Author's Notes
Thanks for all the great feedback :)
I am going to try and see about lengthening my future chapters, and perhaps even revisiting my old chapters and adding scenes to get them up over 2000 words.
Chapter three in particular was, I believe, not even over 1000 words. **Egads!**
I must say I'm relieved to find that my "masochistic" Rúmil is going over well with everyone, I was concerned I might have been burned at the proverbial fan fiction stake for that one. **naughty grin**
And since it's been brought up a couple of times; yes indeedy! You have not seen the last of the beautiful Glorfindel...or Erestor for that matter. **insert inappropriate catcalling here**
Alright, enough of me, here's nine...
~ Liomi ~
Chapter Nine: The Day That Wouldn't End
The house seemed quite empty, Andúnil noted with pleasure. Stillness and tranquility permeated the rooms within. The maiden wondered only briefly where her sister had gotten off to, but her attention quickly shifted to darker thoughts as she spied her little reading bench all askew.
'Blasted males and their confounded intrusiveness!' She thought, eyes narrowing as she snatched up a flattened cushion from where it had fallen to the floor. A faint odor wafted past her nose, and she eyed the object warily, then gave it a tentative sniff. Instantly, she recoiled. "Oh for the love of all that is holy! Must they leave their mark everywhere they go?" She demanded aloud, holding the poor little cushion at arms length.
Disgusted beyond reason, Andúnil banished the pillow to her washing basket, and pulled the padding off the bench to share the same fate. The goblet which still sat full of water also received a scalding reprimand, for it was sitting atop one of her storybooks making a ring. She'd be damned before she let one drunken warden and his stupid brothers disrupt her life!
Remembering the siblings gave further fuel to her ire. The nerve of that accursed Rúmil! Who did he think he was attacking her in such a fashion? Had she not made her contempt for him perfectly clear? Andúnil stomped one foot, sputtering with vexation. "The nerve I say!"
The compress across his forehead felt unnaturally heavy and cool, but Haldir didn't mind. The air in the infirmary smelled strongly of herbs and other flora. It was the first time that day he could recall not feeling the strange pressure behind his eyes. With the passing of the headache there also came a clarity of mind, and as he lay recovering he sifted through the memories that were beginning to surface.
Still working over a few details, there was one thing though, he had decided for certain. Haldir was going to kill his brothers. He knew not when, he knew not how, but in some form or another they were going to pay dearly for this pain and humiliation. At the moment, the Captain could think of nothing quite vile enough to inflict upon them, but he felt confident it would come to him sooner or later.
A presence stirred in the room and Haldir opened his eyes. The pale robes and serene visage of Laurelindórenan's Lord greeted his view and the Captain smiled. Celeborn returned the smile and procured himself a seat next to the warden's cot.
"You look much improved my friend," he observed.
Haldir nodded slightly. "And I feel much improved, my lord, in body at least," he sighed, "I fear my dignity may have suffered irreparable damage, however."
Celeborn chuckled. "I would give you words of consolation on that matter Marchwarden, but I believe there is naught to be offered," he tilted his head candidly, "though you have my deepest sympathies in regards to your unfortunate relations."
Haldir could not hide the sneer that came to his lips. "I am going to kill them."
Another chuckle escaped the Galadhrim's Lord. "I have every confidence that you will! However," he paused and gave the Captain a significant look, "I believe there is one other individual who has suffered because of this mischief, and she too deserves restitution."
The warden nodded. "Aye, not excluding from myself, for I believe I am at least partially at fault for her miseries."
Celeborn raised a practiced eyebrow. "Perhaps, perhaps not," he replied, "though if you were, I believe you have already been punished far and beyond what would have been owing."
Haldir nodded and grinned wryly. "I agree."
"What do you think to letting the maiden choose their punishment?" Asked Celeborn curiously.
Haldir considered this for a moment. "Well, I suppose it is fitting, but do you not think she will be too lenient with them?"
Celeborn grinned. "Nay Captain, I do not doubt for one minute that the maiden Andúnil will be appropriately harsh."
"Andúnil? That is her name?" Inquired the warden, "I had not remarked it until now, it is rather pleasant sounding."
Celeborn knit his brows together and curled up the edges of his mouth. "Is it?" There was something of amusement in his tone.
Haldir chanced to roll his eyes at the Lord. "I did not mean it to sound suggestive of interest!" He looked a little flustered, "I was only making an objective observation."
The Lord cleared his throat to mask an unbecoming snort. "And do you have any other 'objective observations' to make about the lady in question?"
"Nay, I do not," replied the warden, narrowing his eyes, "and you have my consent to offer her the honor of penalizing my troublesome brothers." Haldir eased himself into a sitting position, "though I still intend to kill them."
Rúmil and Orophin sat on a low branch near to the infirmary, waiting for Haldir to be released. They'd witnessed Lord Celeborn entering the building, he'd given them a curt nod, and apprehension filled their hearts.
Though it was probable the Lord wished to see how his Captain faired, the brothers could not help but suspect that the visit would also include a discussion of their 'ultimate doom'. They exchanged nervous glances.
"This is all your fault, you know that aye?" Growled Orophin.
Rúmil turned up his nose and crossed his arms. "Please! Without your contributions this situation would have never gotten so far out of hand!"
"My contributions?" Demanded the younger warden, "I'll have you know that without 'my contributions' you'd probably be laying in that infirmary yourself recovering from a sound, and just I might add, beating at the hands of that poor maiden."
Rúmil scoffed. "Poor maiden indeed! She hits harder than you do," a slightly dreamy expression passed over his face, "fiesty thing, that one."
"Spare me the commentary on your twisted little fantasy world, if you don't mind," huffed the younger Elf, "we need to put our heads together and come up with a way to diffuse this situation."
Rúmil seemed to ignore his brother. "I think she might have even bruised one of my ribs, it..."
"Will you focus please!" Snapped Orophin, smacking his sibling on the forehead.
"Ow!" Protested the elder warden, shooting his brother a glare, "brute."
Orophin released an exasperated sigh, was it too much to ask that Rúmil take something seriously every once in a while? "Are you going to help me or not?" He demanded at last.
Rúmil tilted his head and seemed to ponder for a few moments. He thoroughly enjoyed how easily Orophin seemed to get himself worked up. It certainly didn't take much at times.
"Alright, I'll help," he replied finally. At worst he didn't suppose they could do their situation any more harm.
Celeborn emerged from the infirmary smiling. To most it might seem a warm, friendly sort of smile, to Haldir's younger brother's it spoke only of wicked fate.
"My lord!" They chirped in unison, doing their best to feign cheer.
"Well met once more, my good Marchwardens, will you follow me to the upper halls please?" He too sounded cheery, though his was genuine.
The brothers slid down from their perch and eyed the Lord of the Golden Wood with scepticism. "May we inquire as to nature of this invitation, my lord?" Asked Orophin.
"No," replied the Lord with a broader smile, "you may not," and with that he set off briskly, expecting them to pursue.
The brothers exchanged more nervous glances before following. "What now?" Hissed Rúmil.
Orophin frowned. "Let us wait and see what he has planned before we take any action, if worst comes to worst, I'll improvise."
"Dear Eru," moaned the elder brother, "we are surely doomed!"
Andúnil found her footsteps once more gracing the flets of Lord and Lady's court. She mused at the oddness of her coming here twice in one day when often decades would pass in between former visits. But this, she reminded herself with a weary sigh, had been anything but a 'normal' day.
There had come a knock on her door, as the sun began its lazy descent toward the western horizon. Guardedly she had answered its noise, fearing what she might find on the other side. Blessed be, it was only a young-eyed warden come to summon her to the upper halls. She followed him willingly, her ire long subsided, and was curious to know why she was wanted.
Andúnil followed her guide right up to the room that she recalled was where Lord Celeborn kept his office. The maiden clutched at her mantle subconciously, feeling an unexpected bristling of her nerves. The warden knocked politely on the door and they waited to be admitted. At length the door opened and Andúnil found herself being considered, once again, by a pair of cool, grey eyes.
She met Erestor's gaze evenly, holding her chin up to show that he did not intimidate her. Really! What was this game of his? For weeks he skulks around Caras Galadhon completely unkown to her, then after a brief meeting she is forced to endure him thrice in one day? Confound him too! Him and his insufferable superiority. Why could he not be Glorfindel? Now there was an Elf she would not be sorry to have to endure even a dozen times in a day.
"My Lord Celeborn, your guest has arrived," Erestor's monotone pulled her back from her thoughts.
Andúnil was admitted and her guide bowed and dismissed himself. She was greeted by the Lord's friendly smile, but felt bile rise in the back of her throat when she spied the other two occupants of the room.
"Should I leave, my lord?" Asked Erestor.
Celeborn shook his head nonchalantly. "Nay my friend, that will not be necessary unless you should desire it, your council may yet be called upon in this matter."
The Imladris Elf bowed his head in consent. "Then I shall remain." He claimed a spot sitting at Celeborn's right.
"Wont you have a seat good lady?" Offered the Lord of Lórien.
Andúnil accepted the offer, sliding into a seat before his desk. Nervously she glanced over to the brothers, sitting glumly in a far corner as if a pair of naughty children. What was happening here? Had she done something wrong? Suddenly she remembered the unfortunate scene with Rúmil, it was possible Erestor had witnessed some or all of the affair. Perhaps he had relayed the information to her Lord, and she was now to be held accountable for assaulting a warden?
"I can explain my lord!" She cried, rising quickly from her chair. All eyes in the room turned to fix her with a puzzled look.
"Explain, Madame?" Queried Celeborn, frowning.
"Yes, please! Allow me to explain before any judgements are made, I beg you!" She gave the Lord a pleading look.
Erestor, who up until that point had managed to conjure up an expression resembling mild confusion, suddenly stiffened as a realization dawned upon him. "Madame, I feel that you should know that I did not..."
"Thank you, Lord Erestor," she interrupted snidely, "but you have done quite enough already, I assure you."
Celeborn frowned more deeply at her tone. "Now see here Andúnil, there's no reason to speak in such a fashion to..."
"No, no my lord, it is quite alright, if it is my silence the lady wants, then she shall have it," he straightened and raised his eyebrows, "please continue with your aforementioned explanation, Madame."
Andúnil seized the offer gratefully. "Well you see I was very frusterated and angry when I realized that we had lost the Captain again," she began, "and I suspected that Haldir's brothers might be playing a joke on me, so I was further displeased with the pair of them," she sighed, "I know that it does not excuse my actions, but perhaps it does explain them? Perhaps you will not banish me?"
Celeborn found himself at a momentary loss for words. The brothers, who had by now realized what was going on, began to snicker. Erestor had the nerve to look subtly amused.
"My good lady," the Lord replied at last, "I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about."
"You don't...?" She trailed off looking to where the Counsellor sat silently, "but I thought you-he..." Erestor returned her gaze, offering no explanation. Was it Andúnil's imagination or did he just wink at her?
"But of course, now I am highly curious," continued Celeborn, "wont you please inform me of what, apparently, only I am not aware of?" Ah, so he had remarked Rúmil and Orophin's snickering.
Andúnil paled. "I'd rather not, if that is permissible my lord."
"I am afraid my dear, that at this point, it is not permissible," teased the Lord, "I beg you, enlighten me."
"Well, I-I..." she glanced over at Rúmil and Orophin, they were attempting to look contrite and failing miserably, "I may have given Rúmil a bit of a poke in the middle."
"A bit of a poke?" Demanded Orophin, incredulous. Celeborn silenced him with a sharp look.
Andúnil felt the tips of her ears turn pink. "Well alright, perhaps it was more than just a 'poke', but at the time I felt he deserved it!"
"And now?" Asked Lord Celeborn.
"Now, I..." she tossed another look over her shoulder, Orophin's head was bowed and Rúmil was leaning into a fist, grinning. Andúnil swallowed her irritation and faced her Lord. "Now I believe I regret the action, I should have handled myself with greater decorum."
Celeborn nodded. "And what say you over this affair Counsellor, I am to surmise that you were already aware of these circumstances?"
"Indeed I was, my lord," Erestor replied smoothly, "quite near the oddest thing I'd ever witnessed in all actuality," he turned his gaze upon the Lord of Lórien, "she ran into him, then punched him, and then he kissed her and she called him an Orc."
Celeborn's lips twitched. "Is that so."
"Quite," replied the Imladris Elf.
"Well," said the Lord after a moment, "there you have it, shall we now discuss the business at hand?" There were no objections so he continued. "Andúnil, Haldir and I would like you to be the person to select a punishment for Rúmil and Orophin, we give you this 'honor' for it is understood you were quite unfairly dragged into the middle of their little scheme and suffered some...grievances, as a result." He looked at her expectantly while she digested his words.
"Oh," she replied at length, "well, I see." It sounded too good to be true, Andúnil snuck another glance over her shoulder at the brothers. They looked perfectly horrified. "Lovely!" She exclaimed looking back to the Lórien lord, "I'd be more than delighted to assist you in this matter, how long am I given to decide on a penalty?"
"Well, they are off duty for the next three weeks, perhaps you can conjure up an idea before they must return to their patrol?" He suggested.
"With pleasure!" She replied.
"If I might make a recommendation my lady?" Came Erestor's voice.
Andúnil smiled at him. "You most certainly may, my lord," was her cheerful response.
"It seems a shame for a near full flask of orcish-whisky to go to waste." He offered.
Andúnil gasped. "Erestor! You are brilliant!" She exclaimed, quite forgetting herself.
The Counsellor shrugged one shoulder, looking as composed as ever. "I know."