Chapter Four – Beginnings
Legolas had closed his eyes the better to concentrate on the music of Lorien. The mournful harmonies complemented his current temper perfectly. The Halflings were listening to Sam's verses in praise of Gandalf's fireworks and Aragorn was in earnest conversation with Boromir, who still appeared shaken by his encounter with the Lady.
Arlannis was at the very edge of the glade. She sat with her back to the companions, looking out at the trees. Legolas watched her from behind half-closed eyes. She seemed distracted and uneasy. No wonder, he thought, she has been banished and that was not an easy penalty to bear. And now all knew it and would no doubt wonder why she had deserved such a harsh fate.
Sliding gracefully to his feet, Legolas approached Arlannis quietly. She sensed his coming and seemed to tense slightly as he sat beside her.
'It has been a sad day,' she said slowly, raising her eyes to meet his.
'A grievous one indeed and not solely for the loss of our friend,' answered Legolas, meeting her gaze openly.
She sighed and began to loosen the leather ties of the greaves around her wrists. Her concentration seemed absolute until she broke the silence again.
'You do not scorn me then, Legolas?' asked Arlannis.
'Because of your banishment?' he said, 'No, Arlannis I do not. I have seen evidence enough of your good character in the last few days before I ever knew of this exile from Lorien. It is clear to me that whatever brought that punishment on you is in the past. You no longer deserve to bear it.' Arlannis nodded as if indeed this was true.
'Are you not curious then? As to what exactly I did?' she asked carefully.
Her hands had untied the greaves and let them fall to the ground beside her cloak. Legolas drew breath to answer but Arlannis did not let him speak.
She pulled the sleeves back and held up her arms for him to see. Twin, white scars ran the length of both forearms from the crooks of her elbows to her wrists. 'I did this. Many years ago, when life no longer had any meaning for me,' she said calmly. Her eyes were luminous as she waited for his reaction.
Though her confession shocked him, Legolas let no hint of it show on his face. Instead he gently took her left arm and brought it to him to study more closely. 'You were truly intent on death,' he said tracing the scar with his fingertip, 'This wound was deep, I have seen men die from such wounds if they are not attended swiftly.'
'But I was attended,' Arlannis answered bitterly, 'the Lady knew the very moment my life was in peril and sent my father to my aid. It was his skill that saved me though I did not wish it.'
'I am glad your wish went un-heeded,' said Legolas quietly.
Arlannis could not speak as he cradled her arm and continued to follow the line of the scar with his fingertips. The elf's touch was both hypnotic and soothing. 'Why?' he asked eventually. The spell of his touch was broken. Arlannis' brow furrowed slightly as she struggled to keep her emotions in check. Legolas saw tears behind her lowered lashes and swiftly regretted his blunt inquiry.
'I am sorry, Arlannis,' he said quickly, 'it is a private matter, I understand.'
She shook her head, 'No, Legolas, it is not the question that troubles me, but the answer.' With those words Arlannis stood and strode into the forest.
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Aragorn turned around in time to see his sister leave her place next to Legolas and walk quickly into the trees. Legolas looked bereft and a little disconcerted as he watched her go. The elf left his seat and approached Aragorn, stepping lightly over the forest floor. Aragorn had guessed which way Legolas' heart had turned since his friend had met Arlannis at Rivendell. He approved of Legolas' choice, but doubted the elf would succeed in winning a place in his sister's heart. And in his innermost mind, he doubted that Legolas would want to after he discovered the source of Arlannis' shame.
She had suffered terribly after the banishment. Such was the elves' reverence for life that her act of desperation caused her to be regarded as sick of mind. Upon learning the news, the elves of Rivendell had received Arlannis with courteous pity and little else. She had been more isolated than ever.
A return to her old life was impossible, so Arlannis had started a new one. She had left the elves, sought out Aragorn as he roamed the wilds with the Dunedain and joined the world of mortals. She had trained assiduously until she became proficient with both sword and dagger. Her archery was merely competent for one of elvish parentage but her courage was never in doubt. This, and much experience had forged her into a warrior of no little skill. And she finally had the sense of belonging and purpose that she had missed at Rivendell.
The years passed and Arlannis came seldom to her father's house. Aragorn spent more time in the North while Arlannis stayed in the East, close to Mordor's boundaries. She had been summoned to Rivendell for Elrond's Council to give what aid she could in the quest to destroy the one Ring. Aragorn had not intended for Arlannis to join the Fellowship, deeming the quest too dangerous, but her knowledge of the borders of Mordor and her undoubted skill as a warrior had made her a companion too valuable to discard lightly.
Aragorn knew his sister as well as anyone could claim to. The attempt to end her life had shocked him beyond telling but had also drawn him closer to her. Their subsequent years together roaming the wilderness with nothing but their skill and wits to aid them had taught him respect for her abilities. But now, when his thoughts would turn to Arwen and his heart would swell with love, he wished that Arlannis too could open her heart to another being and love again.
When he broached the matter with her she said, 'I lost my heart that day in Lorien, brother and it can never be called back. And, indeed, I would not wish its return, for the pain of it took from me my will to live and made every breath an agony. I wish you well but I will not venture into love again'
And thus, Arlannis made it clear she had chosen a life of service in the Dunedain.
Legolas was nearly three thousand years old and had seen much of the world of men and elves. Maybe enough to accept Arlannis for what she was and what she had done, or so Aragorn hoped.
'I fear I may have distressed your sister, Aragorn,' said Legolas, upon reaching his side, 'she revealed the reason for her banishment to me and...'
'And you could not resist asking why,' stated Aragorn, secretly impressed that his sister would be so honest with the elf.
Legolas nodded silently and looked slightly ashamed of himself. 'The question was scarcely out before I regretted it,' he said.
'If Arlannis showed you the scars, I think she will tell you the rest of her tale, Legolas,' Aragorn ventured, 'for you are the first she has told of this. Take heart from that, my friend.'
Legolas did not look particularly encouraged, but managed a slight smile for Aragorn before taking his leave of him. The elf intended walking amongst the blessed trees of Lorien before the Fellowship's brief sanctuary there was over.
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