Prologue
Elrohir lay in bed, bitterly thinking about the activities he was missing. He had bandages wrapped around his torso which were clearly visible, due to the fact that he had no tunic on.
Someone knocked on the door, and listlessly Elrohir called out, "Enter."
A servant entered with a tray of food, setting it on a table next to the bed. He silently poured a goblet of wine, looked sideways at Elrohir, and left quickly at the glare he received.
Later that evening, another knock sounded on the door.
Another listless "Enter," was sounded.
A maid walked in. She had jet-black hair that was pulled up from her face, and wore a cotton, dark blue dress that brushed the floor when she walked. She quickly looked up at him, and her vibrant blue-green eyes struck him down before she looked back down at her shoes.
"I beg of your pardon, Lord Elrohir, but I was sent up to tidy your room for you. It is not usual for me to clean while you are in the room, but I need not to make your bed if it inconveniences you, only to dust and polish." She seemed terribly wary of his reply.
"Go ahead," he replied, looking at her curiously.
She felt his gaze on her as she moved around the room, polishing the delicate silver furnishing in the royal room. When she had polished everything she could, excepting the bed, she reluctantly moved to the wooden bedposts. His eyes were still on her. She decided to try to make small talk.
"We were all so happy to see the sentinel come back, Lord Elrohir." She began polishing the huge four poster bed. "I wanted to thank you, especially."
"Why?"
"Because it is a very brave thing to receive injury in battle. And you have done so simply to protect your people." He was silent for a few moments, regarding her words, then he spoke to her.
"What is your name?" He asked her.
"Reidwen, my lord," she answered.
"Call me Elrohir." Her cheeks took on a rosy hue.
"I do not think that that is acceptable, my lord-"
"Please, call me Elrohir." She was silent as she finished polishing the bed.
"Where are you from?" he asked her, wanting to hear her speak again.
"I was born in Imladris. My father is also from Imladris, but my mother came here from Lothlorien." Elrohir inwardly smirked as he listened to her avoid his name.
"Have you ever been to Lothlorien?"
"No, I have never had the chance. When I became of age, I immediately began working here. My father died during the War of the Ring, and my mother has been progressively sicker ever since. I am the only family she has left."
"I am sorry."
"Do not be sorry for me. It is the will of the Valar. This is my place. If it were not, then I would not be here."
She walked up to the side of the bed and gracefully picked up the untouched tray of food.
"Is there anything else you need?" he reached up to brush the hand that supported the tray. Her arm shook, causing the plates, silverware and goblet on the tray to chatter.
"No," he whispered.
She reluctantly went to the door.
"Farewell, Elrohir," she spoke gently as she left.
His eyes were closed as the door shut.
"Farewell, Reidwen," he whispered to no one.
Alright, that was sort of short. But I started work today, and I met a fantastically handsome South African man who had a fantastically gorgeous accent.
What does that have to do with the length of the chapter? Not a damn thing. But I thought you all should know anyway. :)