Chapter 2: Unidentified Flying Arrow
"In the light of the sunlit wood,
I seek you through the lilting autumn,
And I see you arise, shining and fair, between the trees,
The boughs drifting low in servitude greeting;
How I've longed for you throughout starry eterne
To be in your arms in the peace of the gold and red shade,
Marked by the change you blessed within me
From the moment I first mated with your eyes of sapphire.
Legolas, my Legolas,
Ai, to see you stepping toward me!
I would pay the highest price to have you,
I would pay the highest price to have you love me.
My heart is the target of the arrow of Legolas;
He haunts my dreams at night,
Ai, Legolas, my Legolas,
I follow the path of your light!"
Suddenly, the sharp scream of a stag cut Eruialiwen off, and the elleths instinctively sprang behind two trees. They already had arrows drawn to the strings of their bows when the tawny beast came flailing out of the dell and fell to the ground just where Eruialiwen had been walking in song. The big stag quivered once and died; the white-feathered arrow buried into his chest was long and still quivering from the impact.
Both elves knew not to call on who could be the stag's killer, much less let themselves be seen. Their arrows trembled with the need to fly, their heads pointed toward the shadowy dell where the beast had come crashing from. But nothing more moved other than the dappling sunlight and the drifting leaves. It was as though nothing had happened, but the body of the stag proved otherwise.
Eruialiwen could see her sister out of the corner of her eye, making a single step toward the open but soundlessly in the rustly leaves at her feet. Camoflauged invisibly to any human, the sisters stood still and ready, waiting for the hunter to show himself.
"Either the stag came from a long way, the hunter is slow-footed, or he has seen us," came the barely audible whisper of Enednilwen. The elves were paralell to one another and the stag lay between them. Neither elf blinked or let their hands waver; they were intent and alert for whatever had dared to disturb the peaceful morning. Very still they remained, like dead trees or cold stones, blending into the surroundings so much that no beast born of the area could have perceived they were there if it walked an inch from them. Their eyes and ears were keen, but they heard and saw nothing.
Time moved. The sun crept a little higher into the sky. But the elf-sisters remained unmoving, still staring into the dell from whence they came. "We are losing time," Enednilwen heard her sister saying impatiently.
A sudden hand gripped her shoulder and hooked her backwards. Completely off-guard, her arrow went whistling into the sky as she fell to the ground. Her assailant leaped astride her, and she could not move her arms. He was holding her down with both hands. Eruialiwen cried out, and Enednilwen kicked him in the groin, knocking him away.
"Ai, by the Valar, I've lost my will to live forever!" He was on the ground, kicking it in pain, face-down and clutching his groin.
"You are a fool!" Eruialiwen barked at him, lowering her bow.
"I know," he groaned into the dirt. "So you keep telling me."
Enednilwen sprang to her feet, unwinded yet trying to slow down her racing heart. After a few seconds of blind adrenaline that slowly crawled down off its summit, she recognized the green-brown cloak, straight black hair, and voice of the man writhing on the ground. "Ainacalion." She drew Tirindail out of its sheath and aimed its gleaming blade at his throat.
The he-elf (for he was not a man after all) sat up, suddenly composed. "Enednilwen!" he exclaimed with a grin. His bright green eyes were sparkling like the streams of Rivendell, his home for the past three-hundred years. "How are you?"
"Who killed the stag?" she demanded, motioning her head toward the dead beast. "Was it you?"
Ainacalion's grin disappeared, and he quickly leaped to his feet. "I've never killed a beast of the wood," he retorted. He turned from Enednilwen and her sword and flicked the arrow sticking out of the stag's chest. "And my arrows aren't marked by white feathers." It was then that Enednilwen saw from his quiver that he had arrows tipped by speckled brown feathers. It shamed her to think she could even imagine accusing Ainacalion of something like that, and she felt stupid.
"I'm sorry," she said, sheathing her sword again. "I knew it wasn't you. I was just startled."
Ainacalion brushed himself off and gazed from the stag to her. "Forgive me for scaring you," he said, his tone abruptly gone and a new, lighter one taking its place.
"You act more and more like an elfling every day, Ainacalion," Eruialiwen remarked, bending down and carefully prying the arrow out of the stag to examine its workmanship. Crouching on her knees, she balanced the bloodied shaft in one hand and studied it. "I don't recognize the make," she said after a few silent moments. "I've never seen an arrow like it. It is not as lightweight nor as swift as an arrow of elven make. It is human."
"That is only obvious," said a new voice, an unenthusiastic one, from the trees. The three elves quickly looked up as yet another elf emerged, cloakless, clothed in red-browns and her earth-colored hair falling behind her lithe back in a single plait. She was leading a white horse by the bridle. Her grey eyes darkened at the sight of the dead beast. "Even from back here, I can tell that no elf made the weapons that killed the stag. I'm surprised that elves so high in stature did not realize that themselves."
Enednilwen tore her eyes from Ainacalion, and Ainacalion tore his eyes from hers, and Eruialiwen tore her eyes from the arrow, to stare at the she-elf. "I wouldn't call being half-Edain that high in stature, Lothatal," said Ainacalion.
"Nor would I," said yet another voice in disdain; another she-elf came out of the dell, riding a grey horse and leading three more behind her.
The two sisters felt heat boiling up through their blood as rage, but outwardly they showed no trace of indignance. "I would not discount the blood of Númenor," said Enednilwen smoothly. "Our father was a friend of Elessar's, besides. Do not tell me that none of you admire the name of that man?"
Eruialiwen straightened up, still holding the arrow. A look of reminiscing shadowed her face, but the other three elves fidgeted. "Of course we do," Ainacalion said uncomfortably. "What elf doesn't? Yet--"
"My point made." Enednilwen stately turned and walked toward the second horse that the mounted Talawen was leading; a smokey-white mare with a wavy mane. "Good to see you again, Alanoth, my friend," she said, managing a smile as she took the delicate bridle from Talawen and led the beast along herself. As she walked, she muttered under her breath, "I would that some of Rivendell's dwellers conform to intelligence and not to stupidity..." but she wasn't sure that the others had heard it and she wasn't sure that she wanted them to, especially not the fair-faced Ainacalion.
"In the light of the sunlit wood,
I seek you through the lilting autumn,
And I see you arise, shining and fair, between the trees,
The boughs drifting low in servitude greeting;
How I've longed for you throughout starry eterne
To be in your arms in the peace of the gold and red shade,
Marked by the change you blessed within me
From the moment I first mated with your eyes of sapphire.
Legolas, my Legolas,
Ai, to see you stepping toward me!
I would pay the highest price to have you,
I would pay the highest price to have you love me.
My heart is the target of the arrow of Legolas;
He haunts my dreams at night,
Ai, Legolas, my Legolas,
I follow the path of your light!"
Suddenly, the sharp scream of a stag cut Eruialiwen off, and the elleths instinctively sprang behind two trees. They already had arrows drawn to the strings of their bows when the tawny beast came flailing out of the dell and fell to the ground just where Eruialiwen had been walking in song. The big stag quivered once and died; the white-feathered arrow buried into his chest was long and still quivering from the impact.
Both elves knew not to call on who could be the stag's killer, much less let themselves be seen. Their arrows trembled with the need to fly, their heads pointed toward the shadowy dell where the beast had come crashing from. But nothing more moved other than the dappling sunlight and the drifting leaves. It was as though nothing had happened, but the body of the stag proved otherwise.
Eruialiwen could see her sister out of the corner of her eye, making a single step toward the open but soundlessly in the rustly leaves at her feet. Camoflauged invisibly to any human, the sisters stood still and ready, waiting for the hunter to show himself.
"Either the stag came from a long way, the hunter is slow-footed, or he has seen us," came the barely audible whisper of Enednilwen. The elves were paralell to one another and the stag lay between them. Neither elf blinked or let their hands waver; they were intent and alert for whatever had dared to disturb the peaceful morning. Very still they remained, like dead trees or cold stones, blending into the surroundings so much that no beast born of the area could have perceived they were there if it walked an inch from them. Their eyes and ears were keen, but they heard and saw nothing.
Time moved. The sun crept a little higher into the sky. But the elf-sisters remained unmoving, still staring into the dell from whence they came. "We are losing time," Enednilwen heard her sister saying impatiently.
A sudden hand gripped her shoulder and hooked her backwards. Completely off-guard, her arrow went whistling into the sky as she fell to the ground. Her assailant leaped astride her, and she could not move her arms. He was holding her down with both hands. Eruialiwen cried out, and Enednilwen kicked him in the groin, knocking him away.
"Ai, by the Valar, I've lost my will to live forever!" He was on the ground, kicking it in pain, face-down and clutching his groin.
"You are a fool!" Eruialiwen barked at him, lowering her bow.
"I know," he groaned into the dirt. "So you keep telling me."
Enednilwen sprang to her feet, unwinded yet trying to slow down her racing heart. After a few seconds of blind adrenaline that slowly crawled down off its summit, she recognized the green-brown cloak, straight black hair, and voice of the man writhing on the ground. "Ainacalion." She drew Tirindail out of its sheath and aimed its gleaming blade at his throat.
The he-elf (for he was not a man after all) sat up, suddenly composed. "Enednilwen!" he exclaimed with a grin. His bright green eyes were sparkling like the streams of Rivendell, his home for the past three-hundred years. "How are you?"
"Who killed the stag?" she demanded, motioning her head toward the dead beast. "Was it you?"
Ainacalion's grin disappeared, and he quickly leaped to his feet. "I've never killed a beast of the wood," he retorted. He turned from Enednilwen and her sword and flicked the arrow sticking out of the stag's chest. "And my arrows aren't marked by white feathers." It was then that Enednilwen saw from his quiver that he had arrows tipped by speckled brown feathers. It shamed her to think she could even imagine accusing Ainacalion of something like that, and she felt stupid.
"I'm sorry," she said, sheathing her sword again. "I knew it wasn't you. I was just startled."
Ainacalion brushed himself off and gazed from the stag to her. "Forgive me for scaring you," he said, his tone abruptly gone and a new, lighter one taking its place.
"You act more and more like an elfling every day, Ainacalion," Eruialiwen remarked, bending down and carefully prying the arrow out of the stag to examine its workmanship. Crouching on her knees, she balanced the bloodied shaft in one hand and studied it. "I don't recognize the make," she said after a few silent moments. "I've never seen an arrow like it. It is not as lightweight nor as swift as an arrow of elven make. It is human."
"That is only obvious," said a new voice, an unenthusiastic one, from the trees. The three elves quickly looked up as yet another elf emerged, cloakless, clothed in red-browns and her earth-colored hair falling behind her lithe back in a single plait. She was leading a white horse by the bridle. Her grey eyes darkened at the sight of the dead beast. "Even from back here, I can tell that no elf made the weapons that killed the stag. I'm surprised that elves so high in stature did not realize that themselves."
Enednilwen tore her eyes from Ainacalion, and Ainacalion tore his eyes from hers, and Eruialiwen tore her eyes from the arrow, to stare at the she-elf. "I wouldn't call being half-Edain that high in stature, Lothatal," said Ainacalion.
"Nor would I," said yet another voice in disdain; another she-elf came out of the dell, riding a grey horse and leading three more behind her.
The two sisters felt heat boiling up through their blood as rage, but outwardly they showed no trace of indignance. "I would not discount the blood of Númenor," said Enednilwen smoothly. "Our father was a friend of Elessar's, besides. Do not tell me that none of you admire the name of that man?"
Eruialiwen straightened up, still holding the arrow. A look of reminiscing shadowed her face, but the other three elves fidgeted. "Of course we do," Ainacalion said uncomfortably. "What elf doesn't? Yet--"
"My point made." Enednilwen stately turned and walked toward the second horse that the mounted Talawen was leading; a smokey-white mare with a wavy mane. "Good to see you again, Alanoth, my friend," she said, managing a smile as she took the delicate bridle from Talawen and led the beast along herself. As she walked, she muttered under her breath, "I would that some of Rivendell's dwellers conform to intelligence and not to stupidity..." but she wasn't sure that the others had heard it and she wasn't sure that she wanted them to, especially not the fair-faced Ainacalion.