CHAPTER SIX: Stirrings
WARNING: The following chapter contains a lot of corny, sentimental mush! (What was I thinking?!) But this is strictly PG stuff.
During the next few days the Fellowship made steady progress southward through the Misty Mountains. As the terrain became more rugged, hardly a morning or afternoon passed without the travelers suffering one mishap or another----particularly the hobbits, who were unused to mountaineering. But, fortunately, the resulting injuries were minor, and Aragorn (a gifted healer himself) or Ellie attended to them easily enough using herbs and bandages.
On the fourth day out, however, Pippin sprained his ankle on a particularly treacherous stretch of rocky ground, and took a nasty fall. He landed hard, on his wrist, and all of his companions heard the painful snapping of his bone. The little hobbit's face immediately screwed up in pain, and he could not stop himself from moaning loudly or crying. Ellie reached Pippin, just as Merry--who was ever at his side, but could not keep him from falling--dropped to the ground beside him and gently cradled his friend's head with his hands. While the others gathered around them, she carefully lifted Pippin's arm to examine his wrist. The fractured bone was clearly visible as it pressed against the skin, and already, there was much swelling and bruising around it. Merry winced, and the companions all turned expectant eyes toward Ellie. It was obvious she would have to use her gift of touch-healing to take care of the little hobbit's injuries.
But first she needed to take care of his pain. Legolas crouched down quietly beside her and she asked him to take hold of the hobbit's injured arm; then she laid both hands on Pippin's wet cheeks.
"Hot…hands…," the hobbit said, instantly quieting down, and she met his startled gaze with a smile.
"Yes, they are hot. But they do not burn, and they do not hurt. You do not hurt anymore," she told him, in a soft, persuasive voice. "Do you, Pippin?"
"Nay, I don't," he replied, surprised, as the delicious heat in his face swept throughout his body and a sense of well-being enveloped his mind. Only then did Ellie take his broken wrist in her healing hands. She gently pressed the bone into place, and began mending the damage, cell by cell. Legolas watched her, fascinated, as did the others--all except for Pippin, who seemed oblivious to what she was doing.
"I feel as if I've drunk a whole tankard of ale," he smiled happily, "or maybe two tankards!" His slurred words certainly sounded like he had.
"And what would you do with two tankards of ale in you, Master Pippin?" she asked him, smiling back, while her able hands continued with their healing.
"Why, he would find himself a pretty girl to dance with!" Merry answered for him.
Pippin nodded his head enthusiastically. Then he searched her face and asked, suddenly serious, "Do you dance, pretty Ellie?"
Ellie laughed and shook her head. "No, Pippin, I do not dance…Nor do I drink ale…" And, when she finished with his wrist, and took his sprained ankle in her hands, she teased, "And it's just as well I don't know how to dance. With feet like yours, I'd be terrified you'd be stomping on mine the whole time!"
Crouching next to her, Legolas chuckled, then whispered in her ear, "I don't have hobbit feet, Ellie. Shall I teach you?" and gave her arm a squeeze.
Ellie turned to stare at him, mouth agape, and blushed scarlet.
For the remainder of the day, Ellie could not get the incident with Legolas out of her mind. Was he actually flirting with me? she wondered time and time again. It was a new experience for her--and a surprisingly pleasant one at that, but it left her feeling anxious and confused at the same time. It was one thing to be asked to dance by a drowsy little hobbit mesmerized by her healing touch, and another thing altogether to be asked to dance by a tall, beautiful, and quite sentient Elf. Ellie did not know how to react to it--how to react to him. She had never encouraged such attentions from any young man back home, and thus had received none. Indeed, except for Jamie and his immediate family, the people of Ravenwood had always treated her with utmost respect and deference, as one would a priest or a revered elder. But Legolas is an ELF--a fey being, she finally concluded, as she lay down next to Jamie later that night. Such behavior must come naturally to him. And so, in the end, Ellie decided to ignore it.
Legolas had not intended for Ellie to be so disconcerted. Why, she's a complete innocent! he had realized almost immediately and was abashed. Yes, he had been flirting with her, but he certainly hadn't meant anything by it--or so he told himself. Verily, he was at a loss to explain his behavior towards the girl. She wasn't particularly beautiful--not when compared to other Elves--nor was she particularly worldly-wise or winsome. And even though she was almost surely half-Elven--at least he was convinced of it--she completely lacked the sophistication and cool elegance that was inherent to his people. Furthermore, she was much too young for him, by his reckoning. In truth, Ellie simply was not the kind of female that should, or would ordinarily appeal to him.
And yet she did.
During the next few days, Legolas repeatedly sought Ellie out, all the while chiding himself for his folly, but unable to stop. He was curious about her, and he enjoyed her company. After all, he reasoned, despite their many differences, they still shared much in common. Until her arrival, the hobbits had had each other, the three men too, leaving Gimli and him the odd ones out. Gimli was a boor and no company at all. And while Legolas had always been a solitary being, he had actually felt lonely in that first week away from Rivendell.
But Ellie had changed all that. They now spent many an hour talking about the things that were dear to them—their special relationship with Nature, their love of trees and music, their friendships with mortal humans, and their immortality—for Ellie had scarcely aged in almost 285 years and knew herself to be immortal.
"When did you first know?" Legolas asked her one evening as they went for a short walk near their camp.
"I began to suspect that there was something different about the way I was growing up by the time I was fifteen or sixteen. I noticed that all the girls I knew had become…uh…fuller," she said, moving her hands around to show a curvaceous figure. Legolas smiled, as she hurriedly continued, "But I was just as skinny and just as…flat…as a blade of grass!" Ellie turned her face away, suddenly embarrassed.
"Were you green too?" He teased, seeking to ease her discomfiture.
She giggled, turning back toward him and playfully hitting him in the arm. "No! Anyway, I knew for certain that I was aging differently from other people by the time I was 30 and looked no older than Jamie is now."
Legolas frowned, puzzled, "Did you not ask your mother about it, Ellie?"
"To be sure. Many times, in fact. But she just kept reminding me that Ilissans were descended from Gondorian royalty. And, as you know, Legolas, it was not unheard of for some Gondorians to live to see several centuries." The Elf nodded, and Ellie continue, "But my mother herself did not live to see two. And after she spoke of Lothlorien to me, I began to suspect that I might be part-Elven as well. As the years passed, I became more convinced of it--because, frankly, I look the same now as I did when I was 50."
"Skinny and flat as a blade of grass…" Legolas repeated, smiling mischievously. Ellie hit him again.
Then, as the two of them settled down on a felled tree, a startling thought occurred to him. "Ellie, you belong to the Royal House of Gondor--just like Aragorn. You are his kin. You realize that, don't you?"
"Yes, as I am sure he does. But this is something I will not think on," she replied, suddenly serious and dropping her gaze, "The Ilissans are strictly matrilineal. We do not acknowledge kinship with any man. Or any kind of relationship, for that matter."
"What of lovers?" he asked her curiously. And was instantly appalled that he had asked her such a question.
For a moment, Ellie stared at him with eyes wide and astonished, but she recovered quickly enough. He doesn't mean anything by that question, silly girl, she told herself with a shrug, and was able to reply quite calmly. "We have none. We couple only to conceive."
Legolas nodded thoughtfully, as he recalled what she had told the Fellowship before about Ilissans not maintaining relationships with those who sired their daughters.
And then she dumbfounded him by shyly asking in return, "Have you a lover, Legolas? Or are you married?"
Legolas searched her face, and then smiled slowly. "No, Ellie, to both questions."
"You've never had a lover?" she asked incredulously.
He laughed, and then tenderly cupped her chin. "I am an Elf, Ellie, not a monk. But I certainly have never loved anyone enough to want to commit an eternity to her."
"Elves marry for all eternity?" she asked, truly shocked.
Legolas laughed again at the stunned expression on her face. And since he couldn't help himself, he wrapped an arm around her shoulder and drew her close, delighting in the heat that washed over him as he did so.
Ellie admitted, "There seems to be much I still need to learn about Elves." And Legolas promised to teach her what he could before they arrived in Lothlorien.
He was true to his word. As the Fellowship journeyed onward, he told her stories about his home in Mirkwood, about his family, and his father the King. He also told her about his childhood and upbringing, so many years ago. Like Ellie, Legolas had lost his mother at a young age, but to the Undying Lands, and not to Death. He described Valinor for her, and the kind of life she might one day lead there. Ellie had not known that as a peredhil* she would one day be able to travel with other Elves to that enchanted place. And she could scarcely believe it.
"It is like a dream," she told him, enthralled, and silently wondered if she might find other half-Elven Ilissans living there. Legolas saw hope kindle brightly in her dark eyes and misunderstood it. I will make an Elf out of you yet, Ellie, he dared to believe, enormously pleased. And then, perhaps, you and I…
"Can you imagine, Legolas?" she interrupted his thoughts. "Other Ilissans, half-Elven like me, may yet live and I will be able to join them in Valinor, without fear!" she told him excitedly. And Legolas' hope faded away before it ever had a chance to spark in his heart. He smiled faintly at the girl, then continued with his lessons. Ellie never suspected a thing.
Over the next few weeks, he taught her Elven lore and history, and the rudiments of Sindarin, the Elvish language spoken in Lothlorien. With his soft, melodic voice, and his gift of words, he transported Ellie into a different, captivating world, one she could never have imagined. She was an apt pupil, learning quickly and asking many insightful questions. Jamie often sat with them and listened, for the boy was even more fascinated by Elves now that he believed Ellie to be one. But often it was just Ellie and Legolas together, sitting and walking side by side.
More than ever before, and for reasons he did not want to examine too closely, Legolas was curious to learn about Ellie's past and her Ilissan upbringing.
"Does that hole in your belly hurt?" he asked her unexpectedly late one evening, as their other companions slept. Legolas was on watch duty, and Ellie--not yet ready to fall asleep--had moved her makeshift pillow to where he sat and had lain down next to his outstretched legs.
"The hole in my belly?" she questioned, glancing up at him with a puzzled expression.
Legolas placed his hand over her navel, and fingered the ring hidden underneath her dress.
Ellie's stomach clenched beneath his touch, and for a moment she forgot to breathe. Then, as she remembered the morning they met, when his face had lain pressed against her naked skin, she felt herself blush yet again in his presence, only this time it seemed as if her entire body was suffused with deep, rich color. All this blushing is really starting to annoy me, she thought. And when she saw a ghost of a smile on Legolas' lips she suspected that the Elf knew precisely what he was doing to her.
"No, the 'hole' in my belly does not hurt," she snapped, pushing his hand away, and sitting up.
Legolas raised his brows in surprise, then gave her an apologetic look. "I did not mean to embarrass you, Ellie. I was simply curious about the piercing. Gandalf told us that it was the one thing that distinguished Ilissans from other women." Personally, the Elf found the practice abhorrent and savage, but he did not tell her that.
Perhaps he was being sincere, perhaps not. Ellie decided to take him at his word. "Forgive me for getting angry. Actually, I don't remember my navel ever hurting at all. I am sure the actual piercing must have hurt, but it happened such a long time ago, when I was a small child. I cherish my ring, Legolas. It is a symbol of my Ilissan heritage. And it is the only symbol I can safely wear, for it would be too dangerous for me to pierce my ears and nose as my ancestresses did."
Thank the Valar for that, Legolas thought, yet he was intrigued. "But what does the ring actually signify?" It was truly an unusual jewel. He recalled the four long gems, each one a different color, that were inlaid into a band of gold instead of being set upon it.
"Did you get a good look at it that day?" she asked him and when Legolas nodded, she took his hand and placed it back on her stomach. "Do you feel this stone?" The inlaid gem was barely discernible beneath the fabric of her dress, but Legolas' sensitive fingertips could make it out.
"That is the emerald you saw. It symbolizes the Firmament--the forests, hills, and meadows. Middle-Earth, Legolas, your home and mine."
Then she moved his fingers lower. "And this is the sapphire--representing life-sustaining Water and the blue heavens--Air--above us. Without both our bodies would cease to live."
She trailed his fingers around the delicate band until he felt the next stone. "The ruby is the Fire in the Ilissans' healing hands and the bright red Blood that flows within all of the Valar's children," she continued in a soft, reverent voice. Legolas shifted his gaze from the small hand that guided his fingers and looked at her lovely face. She had a sublime, beatific expression in her eyes that at once filled him with wide-eyed wonder…and with a strange, restless longing that he could not define.
She moved his fingers up to the last stone. "And this gem, the diamond, is the most precious of all. It symbolizes the Light that shines within our souls and brings us ever closer to the gods that created us. Without the Light, we would be fell creatures without souls, no better than Orcs. The Light is Life, Legolas. And my ring is the symbol of that Life--the life of an Ilissan." Her words sounded almost like a prayer.
And Legolas finally understood. This ring was no mere bauble. It was a sacred thing, a holy relic for Ellie and her kind. And as such, an object to be revered, not abhorred. For the first time since meeting her, Legolas fully appreciated the depth of Ellie's devotion to her Ilissan heritage. It was a humbling moment, heartbreaking even, as he realized the hopelessness of his affection for the girl, and Legolas found it impossible to speak.
Instead, he took her face in his hands and pressed his lips gently to her forehead.
*peredhil=half-Elven
