Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any characters and/or places
thereof
Author's note: to make this easier for everyone, Arwen states her age as it would be to a mortal. Elven aging is actually anywhere from one year to two and a half mortal years to one year to five mortal years, as far as I know. In this, Arwen will refer to a "year", which to her is two and a half to five years to us. Does that make sense?
Author: Copper Tragic
Title: Daisy Chain
Rating: PG-13
Archive: Please ask first
Feedback: Yes, please!
With thanks to my beta-reader, Ariel: whatever would I do without you?
*****
I never understood how my brothers could sleep some nights. When it was summer, the heat kept me practically immobile. At night I would lie atop the sheets and feel my night-clothes stick to my body with sweat. I would toss and turn with discomfort, but to no end, for motion only increased the heat. My parents would always be amazed at the amount of water I drank during the day. They never understood how much I lost in the night.
There were games I would play. I would try to imagine that I was submerged in an icy lake. My feet would go numb, then my legs, the numbness creeping slowly upwards. The game was supposed to make me sleep by the time it reached my head, but it only made me feel hotter and made me sweat more. Some nights I would try to lie perfectly still, and listen to the sounds of the night. I would count in my head, trying to memorize the list: one, owl, two, crickets. . .Nothing worked. When at last I drifted off to sleep, it was only to be awoken moments later by the morning birds and sunshine. Other nights I did not sleep at all.
Somehow there was always activity during the day. I, alone as usual, would slip away, and explore within the perimeters my parents had set for me: I was not allowed out of Imladris nor across the Bruinen, and that was that. As there was much I had yet to explore within these confines I did not argue. Naneth insisted that I always take a picnic meal with me, which became something of a burden at times, but I carried the food in my knapsack, and was more often than not grateful for it. My treks took me half a day's journey away from home, usually. I set my own limitations, that as soon as the sun peaked I must head no farther from home. My parents would worry if the sun was beginning to set before I returned.
I remember one day finding what I thought to be the largest tree I had ever seen. The largest in Imladris, at any rate, for I remembered Grandmother's forest but did not count it. And of course, as a young girl encountering a large tree, I endeavored to climb it. I dropped my knapsack to the ground and was just about to leap for the lowest branch--when I realized that a tattered dress was not quite what my parents hoped to see when I returned. Knowing this, I stripped down to my underclothes and scrabbled into the branches. In a matter of minutes I had reached branches so thick I could walk upon them. While I was well aware of the fact that I might fall and be hurt, I never thought I actually would--no child does. And certainly no Elf considers his or her own death. So it was without giving any serious thought to the matter that I climbed up to the highest branch that would take my weight and threw my arms open, inviting all the land I saw into my heart. It was beautiful: treetops and birds below me. I had never been up so high in my life, and I trilled my ecstasy.
Another time I set down by the lake not an hour's walk from home. I threw my knapsack beside me and pulled out a ball of twine I had brought with me. This day had a plan. I found a nice, long stick and tied a length of string to the end, cutting it off with Naneth's sewing scissors. I was not allowed to have these, but had not asked and had simply taken them instead. With a bead for a sinker, I was nearly ready. First I spent a good half hour digging around in the dirt to gather up some worms. By the time I was satisfied with my pole, my worms (which I kept in a small cloth bag), my string, my knot, and my bead-sinker, my stomach was growling. That day I was truly thankful for Naneth's insistence that I bring nourishment with me, because I sure was hungry! Once I had eaten I cast the sinker into the water and waited. I did not catch any fish. It is one of my favourite memories.
I went fishing another time that summer. This time, I had a determination. I wanted to catch a fish, I needed to catch a fish. It was a two-day project. The first day, Elladan and I dug up worms together. He told me to only take the really fat, juicy-looking ones that I would want to eat--if I was a fish, he added quickly. "You know, Arwen," he told me later, "technically, you are going to eat the worm. You eat the fish that eats the worm." We must have caught a hundred worms--at least it felt that way. I think it was actually more like thirty, because Elladan threw so many back. We kept them in a jar with holes poked in the lid that Elladan and Elrohir used to keep frogs in, when they were my age. He even helped me make a proper pole, with a hook. The next day, Elladan took me out to the lake. Naneth and Ada said I could not go out on my own so early in the morning, so Elladan accompanied me.
I had not realized just how early we were leaving. "Arwen," said Elladan, shaking my shoulder. "Arwen, wake up." I shook the sleep from my eyes and looked at my brother. He was standing beside my bed, already dressed, a vague form in the grey light of pre-dawn.
"Elladan, what are you doing?" I asked him. "What time is it?"
"The fish get up early, Arwen, and so should we, to catch them." He left the room, and I forced myself to rise. I washed my face and combed my hair, then dressed and pulled on my boots under my dress. Summer boots were my favourite shoes, always. They would be worn-in and caked with mud by the end of the summer, their insides softened with my sweat then formed again so that only I could wear them comfortably. Many Elves neglected to wear boots at all as they were unnecessary, but I liked them. Anyone who didn't was truly missing out. There is something special, magical, in the feeling of lacing up bootlaces, tying them in tight bows, and clomping around in personalized shoes. That morning I stood before the mirror and wriggled my toes, before dashing into the hall to meet Elladan.
We each carried a pail to hold the fish we planned on catching, and I had my pole slung over my shoulder. Elladan had our worms in his pail, in their jar. Just as we were leaving, taking a care to be as quiet as possible, Naneth stopped us. "Here," she said, holding out my knapsack, "take this with you. I know you are going to catch fish, but you should have a default meal prepared." Naneth was always like that: she looked out for us, but she never interfered. She did things in a way that radiated love.
"Thank you, Naneth," Elladan said, taking the knapsack and giving her a one- armed hug and a kiss on the cheek.
"Nana, you did not have to wake up just because we did," I said, hugging her tightly. "I am going to catch you a fish today, Nana," I promised.
"All right, Arwen," she said, "you have a good time." Then she saw us to the gate and waved at us, and I waved back. I wanted to walk backwards, but Elladan said that would take too long. I did peek over my shoulder often, so I know that Naneth stood at the gate and watched until we were out of sight. I hoped she did not spend too long standing at the gate. Later Elrohir, who had been unable to participate as his arm had been injured in a sparring accident, told Elladan, and I overheard, that Naneth did not go back to bed, but she did not appear to worry. In those days, I did not think that she worried, because as I had no conception of danger I knew not of any reason she might worry.
Elladan and I tramped along the path in amiable silence. We listened to the birds of early morn sing and twitter. I saw a red squirrel disappear up a tree. It was dark, but I was not frightened as Elladan seemed to think I might be. He kept saying pointless things like "Are you all right there, Arwen?" and "I never had so much energy as a child, not at this hour." At that point I told him that as I was awake, I might as well make good use of my hours. Sleep, to me, came with difficulty but left with ease. This last part I did not tell Elladan, because I knew he would worry--older people sometimes worried about such insignificant little things.
At last we reached the lake. A hint of pink was beginning to appear on the horizon, hinting at nearby dawn. Tiny black insects were buzzing about above the surface of the lake. As I watched, a fish leapt from the waters and swallowed up one of the insects. I made a face, and Elladan laughed. "Now you see why we came at this hour!" he exclaimed, plunking himself down on a rock. I copied, then cast my line--these were fancy words Elladan used, and I liked the way they felt. For a long time we sat quietly together, waiting for the fish to bite. The sun rose, and I started to watch, but Elladan said that was unhealthy, so instead I watched the reflection in the water. It was beautiful there, too, even though I saw shadowy images for a while afterwards.
The sun was high in the sky, but it was early yet. I had not caught any fish. "Are you hungry?" Elladan asked. I was, but I shook my head to say I was not. "Well, I am," he replied, and lifted the knapsack onto his lap. "Let's see what Naneth packed us." He rummaged around for a moment, then grinned. "It looks as though we may stay out all day if we wish to, Arwen, because Naneth has sent us prepared!" He handed me a muffin. "Just in case," he said, then started in on a muffin of his own. Within moments my muffin had disappeared, and Elladan was grinning.
Late afternoon came. I had not caught a fish yet. Elladan had stretched himself out on a slab of stone and covered his face with his hat. He might have been asleep. A part of me wanted to give up, but the rest of me protested, if only for Elladan's sake, and for the promise I had made to Naneth. Just as I had become firm in my decision, I felt a jerk at the pole in my hands. I started and grabbed the pole tighter as the jerk came again. "Elladan!" I cried. "Elladan, I think I caught something!" He was awake in an instant, helping me hold the pole and pull it out of the water. A silvery, slippery, wet fish the length of my forearm floundered on the rocks. Elladan handed me a heavy stick. I stared at him, not understanding, then took a swing at the fish. I missed and hit my brother on the foot. The next swing, I smashed the fish on the head. Elladan asked if I was ready to go home, and I said I was not. That day I caught four more fish, and I did not once more hit my brother on accident--or on purpose, for that matter. He forgave me for the stick incident, of course, though much to my chagrin would later recount it to our family. We returned home late, and ran the entire distance, but were happy with fish in our pails, bug bites on our skin, and spots of red on our cheeks. Elrohir was so jealous, he made us recount the story time and time again.
These adventures occurred in a space of about three years. It was between the time when Elladan told me I was ugly and made me cry and the time I was caught breaking curfew and a few other rules. That same year, Ada would ask Legolas to stop calling me his future bride. Not so very long after I would begin to understand, but it would take many, many years for me to forgive him. But that was not the reason I stopped having adventures, though that, also, was Ada's fault.
One night I could not stand the heat. It was just too much, washing over me in waves, rising in my shoulders. My underarms and the backs of my knees were soaked with sweat, and my nightgown was uncomfortably sticky. It seemed my skin was crawling. When it was too much to bear I tiptoed across the floor and shut the door to my room and stripped off my nightgown. The window provided ventilation, so I needed not worry about fresh air. But even without my nightgown, the heat was unbearable.
I put my nightgown back on, and stole into the corridor. With a deep breath, I took my first step towards my first time out alone when I was not allowed. My heart was pounding with fear. I passed Elladan's room first, then Elrohir's. I was not afraid of them, trusting that they would not stop me. When I came to Naneth and Ada's room, I stopped. Here my courage would be measured: either I would pass by and be very brave but quite possibly punished, or I would go back to my room a coward for ever. I took a deep breath and held it, then dashed past their open door, out of the house, and into Naneth's garden. I did not stop running until I was outside of the gate and hidden, then I panted for breath. Although, or mayhap because, I had broken a huge rule, I was perversely proud of myself. I was brave.
The lake where Elladan and I had gone fishing was the closest I could think of, and so I headed for it. At first I walked, thinking this would be better as running would cause my blood to pump harder and my temperature to rise. After a time, I realized that it would be better to run and have the tramp over with. I broke to my top speed and raced, running along the path with the wind in my ears. I enjoyed the run so much that I took a longer path, and came out on the opposite side of the lake to the rocks. Here there was a muddy and grassy shore.
The air was still and containing a certain quiet loud one could not help but admire. The wind rustled the leaves of the trees, so abundant and lively about me, and even the grass whispered into the night. Summer reflected plainly in the air, which could be breathed in to experience the exact oppression, the heaviness, the stifling and smothering quality which would for ever mark that time when heat reigned. The moon hung high in the sky, full and smiling down upon me. Upon the water the moon threw her glowing shadow, a white orb alighting upon the world, casting silver tendrils across the grassy lawns and eerily alighting the patches of woodland. The plants were more filled with life, and the shadows deeper and darker with secrets.
The lake was quiet that night, its waters transmuted from an inky blackness to, with the prompting of the moon, a deep blue, only a step from black yet clearly defined as not. The wind traipsed over the body of the lake, telling some gaudy secret which was flown on rippling waters to the shore, leaving all the surface atwitter. A peaceful lapping sound added to the gossip of the wind, calming the night and the chill upon the air. Somewhere near the tree line a jackrabbit or squirrel bounded towards its accustomed domain, paused, then continued onwards. The lapping continued, as though unaware of the goings-on of other creatures, soothing the hour into tranquillity, as though Ulmo himself resided in those waters and sought to sing this lullaby to his children--or really, Navanna's children.
Upon a granite slab protruding over the water where rock met grass stood a lone figure, me, a shadow upon shadows in the moonlight. The moonlight showed me for a young woman, not bent with age and certainly not yet grown with it. I raised one arm to my head and loosed my masses of hair, allowing a leather tie to flutter to the ground. I bent my hair forward and shook it, then retrieved the leather tie and again bound my locks, tighter in a tail than before. My hands trailed down as if to my sides, and all of me bent with them, reaching down to my calves and grasping my nightgown, only to strip the garment away and drop it on the stone beside me. For a moment I stood there, naked and shivering. Then with a gasping breath I dived, threw my arms back then forward, arcing in the air and entering the water with hardly a splash.
Below, the world roared in my ears. I did not waste a moment, but swam firmly and swiftly down to the bottom of the lake, my hands pounding into the ground and sending up clouds of silt. Choosing a smooth grey stone I grasped it in my hands and returned the surface, breaking through with a tremendous noise in my ears and drawing in deep breaths. The water had shocked me upon impact, being beyond cold with the night despite the summer heat, but I had not given in to my first instinct to hurry back to shore. Now my lungs burned within my chest, and I swam a lap to warm myself, depositing my rock on my original perch then swimming the perimeter again. My skin that was exposed to the air prickled and I could hardly gather the air to my lungs. It felt so good to be cool and wet.
I dived down again, loving the feeling of being so submerged, the oneness with the water. My hair freed itself and wafted before my face. I chased bubbles of air with my hands. When at last I was compelled to return to the surface for air, with great regret I left my underwater paradise. I did not know, then, how long it would be before I was allowed to return.
"Arwen!" a shocked voice exclaimed. I turned to see Ada standing on the shore, looking quite scandalized.
"What is it, Ada?" I asked.
"What is it?" he repeated in disbelief. "Arwen! Come out of there at once!" I did not understand why, but I knew he was angry, so I did as he asked. When he saw that I was not dressed he turned so as not to look at me as I pulled on my nightgown. "What were you thinking?" he asked when I was dressed again.
"That I wanted to be cool," I replied honestly.
"Arwen, listen to me. I know that you are still a child and that you act as such, but now I must ask that you take more care in your. . .exposure. Think of what might have happened if an Elf of. . .less virtue had come across you. Arwen, you must have no more of these escapades, do you understand? No tramping through the woods all day alone, and especially no more night swims."
"But why?" I asked, and the look on his face was so withering that I replied, "I promise, Ada."
We walked home together. I was too young to know what I had done wrong. The idea of innocence, that someone might take advantage of a young and defenseless girl such as myself, had not crossed my mind. When I asked Elrohir what "an Elf of less virtue" meant he said he was unsure, but in another conversation I overheard Ada told Naneth exactly what he was afraid of. That was the first time the mechanics of reproduction were introduced to me, and the first time I realized that my world was not so safe as I thought. I was just over eleven years old.
*****
To Be Continued
Elvish translations:
Ada = Dad, Daddy
Naneth = Mother
Nana = Mom, Mommy
Explanations on Valar references:
Yavanna was the giver of fruits, the mother of all things that grew. The reference to "Yavanna's children" meant the plants, trees, grass, and all of nature around the pond.
Ulmo was the lord of the waters.
And a teaser of next chapter: I must have been six, perhaps seven, years old when Elrohir told me I was ugly. True, at that time in my life I had been quite vain. Who would not have been? I was a child, and so often told of my superior appearance that it was to me a fact: I was beautiful. . . .
Author's note: to make this easier for everyone, Arwen states her age as it would be to a mortal. Elven aging is actually anywhere from one year to two and a half mortal years to one year to five mortal years, as far as I know. In this, Arwen will refer to a "year", which to her is two and a half to five years to us. Does that make sense?
Author: Copper Tragic
Title: Daisy Chain
Rating: PG-13
Archive: Please ask first
Feedback: Yes, please!
With thanks to my beta-reader, Ariel: whatever would I do without you?
*****
I never understood how my brothers could sleep some nights. When it was summer, the heat kept me practically immobile. At night I would lie atop the sheets and feel my night-clothes stick to my body with sweat. I would toss and turn with discomfort, but to no end, for motion only increased the heat. My parents would always be amazed at the amount of water I drank during the day. They never understood how much I lost in the night.
There were games I would play. I would try to imagine that I was submerged in an icy lake. My feet would go numb, then my legs, the numbness creeping slowly upwards. The game was supposed to make me sleep by the time it reached my head, but it only made me feel hotter and made me sweat more. Some nights I would try to lie perfectly still, and listen to the sounds of the night. I would count in my head, trying to memorize the list: one, owl, two, crickets. . .Nothing worked. When at last I drifted off to sleep, it was only to be awoken moments later by the morning birds and sunshine. Other nights I did not sleep at all.
Somehow there was always activity during the day. I, alone as usual, would slip away, and explore within the perimeters my parents had set for me: I was not allowed out of Imladris nor across the Bruinen, and that was that. As there was much I had yet to explore within these confines I did not argue. Naneth insisted that I always take a picnic meal with me, which became something of a burden at times, but I carried the food in my knapsack, and was more often than not grateful for it. My treks took me half a day's journey away from home, usually. I set my own limitations, that as soon as the sun peaked I must head no farther from home. My parents would worry if the sun was beginning to set before I returned.
I remember one day finding what I thought to be the largest tree I had ever seen. The largest in Imladris, at any rate, for I remembered Grandmother's forest but did not count it. And of course, as a young girl encountering a large tree, I endeavored to climb it. I dropped my knapsack to the ground and was just about to leap for the lowest branch--when I realized that a tattered dress was not quite what my parents hoped to see when I returned. Knowing this, I stripped down to my underclothes and scrabbled into the branches. In a matter of minutes I had reached branches so thick I could walk upon them. While I was well aware of the fact that I might fall and be hurt, I never thought I actually would--no child does. And certainly no Elf considers his or her own death. So it was without giving any serious thought to the matter that I climbed up to the highest branch that would take my weight and threw my arms open, inviting all the land I saw into my heart. It was beautiful: treetops and birds below me. I had never been up so high in my life, and I trilled my ecstasy.
Another time I set down by the lake not an hour's walk from home. I threw my knapsack beside me and pulled out a ball of twine I had brought with me. This day had a plan. I found a nice, long stick and tied a length of string to the end, cutting it off with Naneth's sewing scissors. I was not allowed to have these, but had not asked and had simply taken them instead. With a bead for a sinker, I was nearly ready. First I spent a good half hour digging around in the dirt to gather up some worms. By the time I was satisfied with my pole, my worms (which I kept in a small cloth bag), my string, my knot, and my bead-sinker, my stomach was growling. That day I was truly thankful for Naneth's insistence that I bring nourishment with me, because I sure was hungry! Once I had eaten I cast the sinker into the water and waited. I did not catch any fish. It is one of my favourite memories.
I went fishing another time that summer. This time, I had a determination. I wanted to catch a fish, I needed to catch a fish. It was a two-day project. The first day, Elladan and I dug up worms together. He told me to only take the really fat, juicy-looking ones that I would want to eat--if I was a fish, he added quickly. "You know, Arwen," he told me later, "technically, you are going to eat the worm. You eat the fish that eats the worm." We must have caught a hundred worms--at least it felt that way. I think it was actually more like thirty, because Elladan threw so many back. We kept them in a jar with holes poked in the lid that Elladan and Elrohir used to keep frogs in, when they were my age. He even helped me make a proper pole, with a hook. The next day, Elladan took me out to the lake. Naneth and Ada said I could not go out on my own so early in the morning, so Elladan accompanied me.
I had not realized just how early we were leaving. "Arwen," said Elladan, shaking my shoulder. "Arwen, wake up." I shook the sleep from my eyes and looked at my brother. He was standing beside my bed, already dressed, a vague form in the grey light of pre-dawn.
"Elladan, what are you doing?" I asked him. "What time is it?"
"The fish get up early, Arwen, and so should we, to catch them." He left the room, and I forced myself to rise. I washed my face and combed my hair, then dressed and pulled on my boots under my dress. Summer boots were my favourite shoes, always. They would be worn-in and caked with mud by the end of the summer, their insides softened with my sweat then formed again so that only I could wear them comfortably. Many Elves neglected to wear boots at all as they were unnecessary, but I liked them. Anyone who didn't was truly missing out. There is something special, magical, in the feeling of lacing up bootlaces, tying them in tight bows, and clomping around in personalized shoes. That morning I stood before the mirror and wriggled my toes, before dashing into the hall to meet Elladan.
We each carried a pail to hold the fish we planned on catching, and I had my pole slung over my shoulder. Elladan had our worms in his pail, in their jar. Just as we were leaving, taking a care to be as quiet as possible, Naneth stopped us. "Here," she said, holding out my knapsack, "take this with you. I know you are going to catch fish, but you should have a default meal prepared." Naneth was always like that: she looked out for us, but she never interfered. She did things in a way that radiated love.
"Thank you, Naneth," Elladan said, taking the knapsack and giving her a one- armed hug and a kiss on the cheek.
"Nana, you did not have to wake up just because we did," I said, hugging her tightly. "I am going to catch you a fish today, Nana," I promised.
"All right, Arwen," she said, "you have a good time." Then she saw us to the gate and waved at us, and I waved back. I wanted to walk backwards, but Elladan said that would take too long. I did peek over my shoulder often, so I know that Naneth stood at the gate and watched until we were out of sight. I hoped she did not spend too long standing at the gate. Later Elrohir, who had been unable to participate as his arm had been injured in a sparring accident, told Elladan, and I overheard, that Naneth did not go back to bed, but she did not appear to worry. In those days, I did not think that she worried, because as I had no conception of danger I knew not of any reason she might worry.
Elladan and I tramped along the path in amiable silence. We listened to the birds of early morn sing and twitter. I saw a red squirrel disappear up a tree. It was dark, but I was not frightened as Elladan seemed to think I might be. He kept saying pointless things like "Are you all right there, Arwen?" and "I never had so much energy as a child, not at this hour." At that point I told him that as I was awake, I might as well make good use of my hours. Sleep, to me, came with difficulty but left with ease. This last part I did not tell Elladan, because I knew he would worry--older people sometimes worried about such insignificant little things.
At last we reached the lake. A hint of pink was beginning to appear on the horizon, hinting at nearby dawn. Tiny black insects were buzzing about above the surface of the lake. As I watched, a fish leapt from the waters and swallowed up one of the insects. I made a face, and Elladan laughed. "Now you see why we came at this hour!" he exclaimed, plunking himself down on a rock. I copied, then cast my line--these were fancy words Elladan used, and I liked the way they felt. For a long time we sat quietly together, waiting for the fish to bite. The sun rose, and I started to watch, but Elladan said that was unhealthy, so instead I watched the reflection in the water. It was beautiful there, too, even though I saw shadowy images for a while afterwards.
The sun was high in the sky, but it was early yet. I had not caught any fish. "Are you hungry?" Elladan asked. I was, but I shook my head to say I was not. "Well, I am," he replied, and lifted the knapsack onto his lap. "Let's see what Naneth packed us." He rummaged around for a moment, then grinned. "It looks as though we may stay out all day if we wish to, Arwen, because Naneth has sent us prepared!" He handed me a muffin. "Just in case," he said, then started in on a muffin of his own. Within moments my muffin had disappeared, and Elladan was grinning.
Late afternoon came. I had not caught a fish yet. Elladan had stretched himself out on a slab of stone and covered his face with his hat. He might have been asleep. A part of me wanted to give up, but the rest of me protested, if only for Elladan's sake, and for the promise I had made to Naneth. Just as I had become firm in my decision, I felt a jerk at the pole in my hands. I started and grabbed the pole tighter as the jerk came again. "Elladan!" I cried. "Elladan, I think I caught something!" He was awake in an instant, helping me hold the pole and pull it out of the water. A silvery, slippery, wet fish the length of my forearm floundered on the rocks. Elladan handed me a heavy stick. I stared at him, not understanding, then took a swing at the fish. I missed and hit my brother on the foot. The next swing, I smashed the fish on the head. Elladan asked if I was ready to go home, and I said I was not. That day I caught four more fish, and I did not once more hit my brother on accident--or on purpose, for that matter. He forgave me for the stick incident, of course, though much to my chagrin would later recount it to our family. We returned home late, and ran the entire distance, but were happy with fish in our pails, bug bites on our skin, and spots of red on our cheeks. Elrohir was so jealous, he made us recount the story time and time again.
These adventures occurred in a space of about three years. It was between the time when Elladan told me I was ugly and made me cry and the time I was caught breaking curfew and a few other rules. That same year, Ada would ask Legolas to stop calling me his future bride. Not so very long after I would begin to understand, but it would take many, many years for me to forgive him. But that was not the reason I stopped having adventures, though that, also, was Ada's fault.
One night I could not stand the heat. It was just too much, washing over me in waves, rising in my shoulders. My underarms and the backs of my knees were soaked with sweat, and my nightgown was uncomfortably sticky. It seemed my skin was crawling. When it was too much to bear I tiptoed across the floor and shut the door to my room and stripped off my nightgown. The window provided ventilation, so I needed not worry about fresh air. But even without my nightgown, the heat was unbearable.
I put my nightgown back on, and stole into the corridor. With a deep breath, I took my first step towards my first time out alone when I was not allowed. My heart was pounding with fear. I passed Elladan's room first, then Elrohir's. I was not afraid of them, trusting that they would not stop me. When I came to Naneth and Ada's room, I stopped. Here my courage would be measured: either I would pass by and be very brave but quite possibly punished, or I would go back to my room a coward for ever. I took a deep breath and held it, then dashed past their open door, out of the house, and into Naneth's garden. I did not stop running until I was outside of the gate and hidden, then I panted for breath. Although, or mayhap because, I had broken a huge rule, I was perversely proud of myself. I was brave.
The lake where Elladan and I had gone fishing was the closest I could think of, and so I headed for it. At first I walked, thinking this would be better as running would cause my blood to pump harder and my temperature to rise. After a time, I realized that it would be better to run and have the tramp over with. I broke to my top speed and raced, running along the path with the wind in my ears. I enjoyed the run so much that I took a longer path, and came out on the opposite side of the lake to the rocks. Here there was a muddy and grassy shore.
The air was still and containing a certain quiet loud one could not help but admire. The wind rustled the leaves of the trees, so abundant and lively about me, and even the grass whispered into the night. Summer reflected plainly in the air, which could be breathed in to experience the exact oppression, the heaviness, the stifling and smothering quality which would for ever mark that time when heat reigned. The moon hung high in the sky, full and smiling down upon me. Upon the water the moon threw her glowing shadow, a white orb alighting upon the world, casting silver tendrils across the grassy lawns and eerily alighting the patches of woodland. The plants were more filled with life, and the shadows deeper and darker with secrets.
The lake was quiet that night, its waters transmuted from an inky blackness to, with the prompting of the moon, a deep blue, only a step from black yet clearly defined as not. The wind traipsed over the body of the lake, telling some gaudy secret which was flown on rippling waters to the shore, leaving all the surface atwitter. A peaceful lapping sound added to the gossip of the wind, calming the night and the chill upon the air. Somewhere near the tree line a jackrabbit or squirrel bounded towards its accustomed domain, paused, then continued onwards. The lapping continued, as though unaware of the goings-on of other creatures, soothing the hour into tranquillity, as though Ulmo himself resided in those waters and sought to sing this lullaby to his children--or really, Navanna's children.
Upon a granite slab protruding over the water where rock met grass stood a lone figure, me, a shadow upon shadows in the moonlight. The moonlight showed me for a young woman, not bent with age and certainly not yet grown with it. I raised one arm to my head and loosed my masses of hair, allowing a leather tie to flutter to the ground. I bent my hair forward and shook it, then retrieved the leather tie and again bound my locks, tighter in a tail than before. My hands trailed down as if to my sides, and all of me bent with them, reaching down to my calves and grasping my nightgown, only to strip the garment away and drop it on the stone beside me. For a moment I stood there, naked and shivering. Then with a gasping breath I dived, threw my arms back then forward, arcing in the air and entering the water with hardly a splash.
Below, the world roared in my ears. I did not waste a moment, but swam firmly and swiftly down to the bottom of the lake, my hands pounding into the ground and sending up clouds of silt. Choosing a smooth grey stone I grasped it in my hands and returned the surface, breaking through with a tremendous noise in my ears and drawing in deep breaths. The water had shocked me upon impact, being beyond cold with the night despite the summer heat, but I had not given in to my first instinct to hurry back to shore. Now my lungs burned within my chest, and I swam a lap to warm myself, depositing my rock on my original perch then swimming the perimeter again. My skin that was exposed to the air prickled and I could hardly gather the air to my lungs. It felt so good to be cool and wet.
I dived down again, loving the feeling of being so submerged, the oneness with the water. My hair freed itself and wafted before my face. I chased bubbles of air with my hands. When at last I was compelled to return to the surface for air, with great regret I left my underwater paradise. I did not know, then, how long it would be before I was allowed to return.
"Arwen!" a shocked voice exclaimed. I turned to see Ada standing on the shore, looking quite scandalized.
"What is it, Ada?" I asked.
"What is it?" he repeated in disbelief. "Arwen! Come out of there at once!" I did not understand why, but I knew he was angry, so I did as he asked. When he saw that I was not dressed he turned so as not to look at me as I pulled on my nightgown. "What were you thinking?" he asked when I was dressed again.
"That I wanted to be cool," I replied honestly.
"Arwen, listen to me. I know that you are still a child and that you act as such, but now I must ask that you take more care in your. . .exposure. Think of what might have happened if an Elf of. . .less virtue had come across you. Arwen, you must have no more of these escapades, do you understand? No tramping through the woods all day alone, and especially no more night swims."
"But why?" I asked, and the look on his face was so withering that I replied, "I promise, Ada."
We walked home together. I was too young to know what I had done wrong. The idea of innocence, that someone might take advantage of a young and defenseless girl such as myself, had not crossed my mind. When I asked Elrohir what "an Elf of less virtue" meant he said he was unsure, but in another conversation I overheard Ada told Naneth exactly what he was afraid of. That was the first time the mechanics of reproduction were introduced to me, and the first time I realized that my world was not so safe as I thought. I was just over eleven years old.
*****
To Be Continued
Elvish translations:
Ada = Dad, Daddy
Naneth = Mother
Nana = Mom, Mommy
Explanations on Valar references:
Yavanna was the giver of fruits, the mother of all things that grew. The reference to "Yavanna's children" meant the plants, trees, grass, and all of nature around the pond.
Ulmo was the lord of the waters.
And a teaser of next chapter: I must have been six, perhaps seven, years old when Elrohir told me I was ugly. True, at that time in my life I had been quite vain. Who would not have been? I was a child, and so often told of my superior appearance that it was to me a fact: I was beautiful. . . .