Oh, and F. Regali, it wasn't that they had just pledged troth. It was that Merel had just found out about them pledging troth.
Chapter Four: Her Choice
She waited, silent, as the Council dragged on. The foolish men were fighting, Mithrandir amongst them.
I don't believe this. Mithrandir, the Grey Pilgrim, has actually stooped down to the level of these pathetic Men. Especially that Gondor Man. He makes me uncomfortable.
"I will take it, though I know not the way," Frodo said.
She smiled. The Halflings are a brave race. To voluntarily go to Mordor…
She shuddered.
The Company was chosen after a small break. Almost, anyway. There were only two places left.
And she intended to get one.
Elrond had known that someone was listening to the Coucil.
Who dares to eavesdrop in my home? he thought, slowly angering.
Suddenly, Lórindel burst from the bushes at the same time two of the Halflings came running down.
"I'm joining the Company," she said firmly, tone brooking no protest.
"Daughter-" he began, determined to try anyway.
"Don't. I'm joining the Company. Final."
He knew that tone and knew that if he continued, he'd be hitting his head on a stone wall. "Are you certain?"
"Yes."
"Then, there is only one more place to be filled in the Company. I will seek someone else-"
"But that leaves no room for us!" the Halflings protested.
"Let them both come as well, Ada. The ten walkers against the Nine Nazgul."
He saw her barely perceptible shudder and nodded.
At least she is wise enough to fear the Nazgul.
Elrond finally saw that his hands had been tied, efficiently, by his own daughter, when Frodo said, "I don't know who you are, daughter of Elrond, but your presence is welcome on my journey."
She bowed to Frodo and walked off.
"That, my friends, is one weird maiden," Legolas said, grinning.
The date was December twenty-fourth, the day before the departure of the Company, and there was more gossip on the grape vine than ever in the history of Imladris.
Legolas and Lórindel had been rounded up two days ago and escorted to Elrond's quarters.
And hadn't been seen since.
The rumour was of a royal message between Princess Lórindel of Imladris and the Prince of Mirkwood.
Arwen and Aragorn had placed it down as nonsense, but, when Lórindel finally returned to her room, they couldn't help but query, "Well?"
Lórindel sighed tiredly. "Lessons. At my age!"
Arwen laughed. "Lessons on what?"
"How to act like a man! Men are foolish, whimsical, and absolutely irritating!"
Aragorn feigned a look of indignity. "I'm offended. No royal marriage?"
Lórindel gave him a glare that would have terrified a lesser Man. "No." She plopped herself into a chair. "Ada's kept me cooped up for three days. Please, forgive my temperment, Estel."
Aragorn smiled. "Forgiven and freely."
"Me-me?" called a childish voice.
"Yes?" She turned to see one of Túrin's playmates, Meian. "How are you, Meian?"
"Fine, Me-me. Are you really going with Estel and the Ringbearer?"
"Yes, Meian, I am."
The child crawled into her lap, dropping her package, and began to cry.
"Why?"
"Because I must." She looked at Aragorn and Arwen, silently telling them to make themselves invisible. "Why are you here, Meian? And why do you cry?"
"My mother made your clothes. We, Túrin, me, and the others, have some things for you, too."
She looked at Meian. "Mellon, please, stop crying. Please?"
"Yes, Me-me." Meian sniffled and sat us straight. "Me-me, look in the clothes."
Lórindel stood, sat Meian in her chair, and knelt reverently before the pile of clothes. Slowly, she sorted through the pile.
First, she came across a coil of finely made rope.
"Túrin and his father made it," Meian informed.
Then, she found a sword of tempered steel. A brand-new Elfish blade.
"That was made by Arelia's father. She designed it, though."
She found all nine gifts and looked at Meian, who had told her who had designed, built, filled, or thought of each item.
"Meian, please tell everyone thank you for me. I cannot express my gratitude."
Meian jumped up and hugged her. "You're welcome, Me-me!" She ran off.
"Estel, what do I need to leave behind?"
He looked at each item, then at her. "Absolutely nothing. All of the items are capable of being useful. Rope, Elf blade, miruvor, and I'm not going to ask how they got ahold of that!, cloak, packs, knives, bow and arrows, quiver, something to tie your hair back with. All of these are items I would take."
She smiled at him. "Then, will you and Arwen help me pack?"
Legolas sighed as he entered his rooms.
The knowing looks, the barely disguised smirks, the subtle claws…
He was sick of all of it.
I can't wait to get back to the wilderness. I'd forgotten how much cities annoy me, he thought. Then, he sighed. Tomorrow…
Tomorrow, they would depart. The adventure would begin and he would leave Imladris.
Another sigh.
He and Elrond had worked for three days trying to teach Merel how to act like a man. Elrond's idea, of course, but she had been most stubborn and persistant that the lessons were unnecessary.
When she'd finally snapped at both of them, Elrond had released them.
"Prince Legolas, would you stay for a moment?" Elrond requested.
He blinked, but didn't take another step towards the door.
"Legolas, you heard Lórindel the other day. You see, Lórindel, though I love her dearly, isn't my natural daughter."
"I already know, Lord Elrond."
"She's Curunír's daughter, Legolas. The wizard had a child by an Elf princess. That child was…is… Lórindel."
He flopped down on the bed.
By the Valar! Curunír's daughter! What have I gotten myself into? he moaned.