Chapter 6: Arrivals and Introductions
"Ring Bearer? Elrond cannot mean what I think he means…" Lhydell paused mid-sentance, contemplating the thought and the eggs on her half raised fork, "I mean… I thought that it had rolled out to sea. At least, that's what Gandalf told me."
Adair ignored her and continued stuffing a piece of toast into her mouth.
"Well lassie, I can't be sure but I think that you just might be talking about my old ring and my nephew, Frodo. I expected him to come visit me sometime, I guess he must be coming now."
Gulping down the last of her toast, Adair smiled at the sweet old hobbit, "Really?"
Seeing the invitation for a story, Bilbo clapped his speckled hands and began reciting the tale of his journeys to the Lonely Mountain and everything that has happened since.
It was nearly three hours before someone came looking for them, and found them, still sitting around their breakfast table listening to the elderly halfling's story.
Although the hobbit tended to drift off every now and then during his story, the two rangers and the few other's who stayed to hear the tale learned enough to fill a book, and possibly more.
Once Bilbo had fallen asleep for the tenth time, the small knot of listeners dispersed and he was covered with a light blanket and moved to his favourite chair next to the fireplace.
'So that explained a lot of what's going on,' Ithilwen commented to herself as she made her way down to the stables, 'This is much more perilous than I thought… if those Nazgul ride for the Shire… only the Rangers stand in their way! No wonder poor ol' Gandalf ordered the watch doubled, he guessed at what was going to happen. Yes, this explains quite a lot.'
At the stables Adair stopped to gaze sadly at the empty stall where her Tabinith used to stay when they stayed here.
"I figured you'd come here, Ithilwen."
Adair turned.
"I'm sorry about your mare, she was a beauty."
She nodded and turned back to the stall, a hand stroking the smooth wood.
Adarhír sighed and leaned against a tall pillar, "You aren't making this easier for me, you know."
"Oh, and that is supposed to make this all better?"
"Of course not, Ithilwen. Nay, I was only trying to… Ach! Never mind, you are the most stubborn of your kind I have ever met!"
Adair grinned inwardly but turned to the befuddled elf with a look of scorn and condensation, "If you think that I am the worst you must nere have met many, mop top."
The two glared at one another in silence before breaking up into laughter.
"Where in the presence of the Gods did you come up with that?"
Adair blushed and suppressed a girlish giggle, "It's a derivative used by Halflings, but I suppose it works for you." She pointed at the rare curly brown hair worn so prettily by the elf.
Chuckling, Adarhír ran a slender but calloused hand through the offending pile of curls, pulling one ringlet straight until it was long enough to go in front of his eyes, "Hmm, I need a trim, it's too long again."
Adair sighed, "Already? You just trimmed it a few weeks ago, no normal persons hair should grow that fast."
"Lemme guess," Adarhír cut in, "I'm a complete and utter lucky bastard and doesn't deserve to have such wonderfully gorgeous hair and dazzling eyes, not to mention the perfect complexion and pearly white teeth, even if I am one of the First Born?"
The bemused Dunadan nodded.
"Well, too bad, Ithilwen. I guess you'll just have to take my clippings and see if they look good if you glue them to your head."
With a laugh Adair playfully pushed her friend into a pile of straw only to have him catch her wrist and pull her down with him, nearly landing in a water trough.
For a moment it seemed like time slowed and the sun stood still as the two gazed into each other's eyes, their bodies close and hands clasped together.
Hesitantly, as one, they leaned closer until they were touching noses.
Ithilwen felt as though she could see the light of the trees and the glory of the Valar looking into his deep hazel eyes; and, though she would not be able to repeat it or remember how it went, the song of Iluvatar rang through her ears and all her senses sang along.
To Adarhír the song dimmed, dampened by the sound of their breath and heartbeats, and his eyes looked into hers and he saw her Fëa * and it was more beautiful than any gem or precious thing on middle earth.
Their lips touched and a spark shock through them, a jolt that made stars dance in their eyes and their heads float above the clouds.
Time sped itself up again, frustrated that it let itself slow down, and went by quickly, even to the eyes of elves.
Night stole over the hidden realm and the stars shone bright.
Still in the stables Ithilwen, as we shall now continually know her as, and Adarhír lay beside each other in the golden, fresh smelling straw, eyes closed and simply holding one another.
Ithilwen fell asleep with the melody of life drifting through her mind and a smile on her lips, Adarhír drifted into elvish dreams soon after, eyes gazing into nothingness, glazed with happiness and love.
***
That is how Uinaerien, we will now also call her by her Elvish name, found the two.
With a miscevious smile she backed away and left them alone to their slumber, wandering off into the woods surrounding the Last Homely House to the small bridge near what she believed must be the most beautiful waterfall in Middle Earth.
The clear water sparkled and the sound was like nothing to be described as Uinaerien rested among the ferns and young trees surrounding the pool.
Dipping a bare foot into the cool waters she felt that tingle of life energy that time cannot weaken or the years pollute, nor can the body become accustomed to the brilliance of the waters of Imladris.
Our small Numenorean sighed, closed her eyes, leaned back onto her elbows and listened to the sounds of the falls and the life of the stream, smelling the pure mountain air, the flowers and trees, the delicious smell of bread wafting from the kitchens, and the more distant scent of horses and the muffled beating of a hammer upon the anvil.
Out of the corner of her mind she could hear nearly inaudible footsteps coming towards her and the swish of rich fabric.
'Arwen,' she guessed, for she doubted that even if Ithilwen had gotten up, she would have been that silent, and she would not have been able to hear at all any other elves that would speak to her.
"Mellyn-nin," Yes, there was no doubt now that it was the daughter of Elrond, "you almost disappear among the ferns when you lie so low and silently. You must have been taught by my brethren."
Uinaerien opened one eye to see the tall and fair-haired she-elf standing near.
"You must have ignored their lessons, my lady, for you are as noisy as an orc."
Silvery laughter split the air and Uinaerien sat up and grinned at the radiant Arwen Undomiel.
"No offence, of course."
More laughter, "none taken, mellyn."
Arwen moved closer and sat gracefully down upon a large rock and slipped her feet into the clear crystalline waters with a contented smile and deep inhale.
"Do you feel it too, or do only mortals feel the… the… I don't know if there is a word for it in any language… like a burst of energy but good and pleasant?"
Arwen smiled, the white gems strung across her forehead danced with light but they could ne're match the brilliance of her soulful eyes. "Yes, mellyn, the first-born feel this phenomenon… though I do not believe that there is a word for it either. Perhaps we should make one up for it? This pool is called the Evemere, so perhaps we should call this feeling the Gailgorf?"
"Hmm," Uinaerien mocked deep thought, "I suppose it could do…what about Thûlhúr?"
Another smile graced the face of the daughter of Elrond, "Hmm, Torch Spirit or Spirited Breath… actually, I think I like yours better, Uinaerien."
The now beaming adan felt herself blush at this compliment, yet continued with her inquisition.
"Well then, this Thûlhúr is a great mystery to me and never have I thought to ask about it before now, or, at least, I've never actually found a good time to ask."
Arwen nodded and light was cast about the clearing by the reflections of her gems.
"It is very mysterious indeed. I have wondered this often and the only reasons that I can think of is the presence of so many lords of the first-born dwell near this pool and bathe in its waters. Perhaps it draws strength and energy from those that swim in the stream or, in my brothers cases, founder under the falls."
Both smiled and a comfortable silence fell, Uinaerien listening to the waters and the sounds of creatures and distant singing, Arwen to the melody of life.
Bliss overcame all senses and Uinaerien felt herself falling asleep among the clean smelling ferns and soft mosses, but instead of letting herself drift away she moved swiftly and slipped into the Evemere, immersing herself in the pristine waters.
Rising to the surface she saw Arwen gazing into an elvish dream.
Silently she swam closer, feeling more awake than ever, and just as she prepared to splash the poor unsuspecting elf, was grabbed by the ankle and pulled underwater.
Arwen jumped up, quite awake and only a little wet, as Elrohir bodily picked up the small, wet, and furious prankster and tossed her over to Elladan on the bridge.
Elladan, planting a kiss on the spitting mad human's cheek, tossed her back into the deep part of the pool where she landed, cursing and sputtering all types of indecent words in all types of languages. Only once she had pulled herself out of the water and was 'tsk'ed at by Arwen and Elrohir did she quit with the colourful verbs and mumble, "jerks."
Elrohir giggled quite madly and squirted a handful of water at the dripping Uinaerien.
"Oh, 'Aerien, don't you like water?"
When he was snarled at he mocked horror and Elladan came to his rescue.
"Oh, I don't think so, brother, but I think she smells better, at least."
This comment was met with a stick bouncing off his forehead and a fist shook at the other teasing twin.
"That's not very nice. Weren't you ever taught not to throw sticks at people?"
Uinaerien laughed harshly, "You forget, Elladan, that it was you who taught me archery."
Elrohir giggled, "And it was I that taught her blade work… which reminds me, how are your knives? I happen to know that another oddball like yourself that likes the long knives is making tracks for our lovely home as we speak. Perhaps you will find time to spar?"
Arwen helped her brother out of the pool and onto a rock as Elladan, mocking great hurt and injury due to a poorly aimed stick thrown at him, lurched quite un-elf like over onto a bench and sprawled out clutching his 'wounds'.
"Oh, for being the oldest you sure are a big elfling, Elladan," Arwen teased, tossing a strategically placed pinecone at her mocking brother. "You need to set the example in front of such a young and impressionable audience."
"Young and impressionable? Just who are you speaking of, mi'lady," Uinaerien protested, "I happen to have seen over thirty winters, old compared to those of, how should I put it, lesser blood lineage? After all, I am distantly related to you three."
The twins grinned but Elrohir soon felt the urge to push his dear sister into the water when she commented that she had meant him when she said young and impressionable, not their mortal companion.
"Ha, I am older than you," he shouted to his very wet and very mad sister.
"And twice as immature," Elladan noted, pushing his twin in next to Arwen.
Uinaerien, at this time, was doubled over with laughter, making a very nice sized projectile to be tossed into the pond as well.
Now that all three younger companions were in the Evemere an allegiance was quickly formed and a plot was hatched. All at once Elladan found himself tackled, pinned down and ferns shoved in his mouth and tossed into the water.
This wasn't quite to his liking but he decided to give it up when he was threatened with being tossed off the top of the falls if he tried to push or splash any members of the alliance anymore.
Other elves nearby heard much laughter and splashing coming from the Evemere as the four spent the rest of the evening swimming and forgetting the worries of the past week, past month, past year, ai, even the past century (for those that had lived long enough to do so, of course.)
***
Too quickly, it seemed to the residents and guests of Imladris, did the great events leading up to other great events unfold.
On the Eighteenth Gandalf escaped from Orthanc and on that same day the Nazgul crossed the Fords of Isen, and on the twenty-second they reached Sarn Ford and clashed briefly with the watch of Rangers… grievously Wherul, cousin of Aragorn son of Arathorn and Lhydell Uinaerien, was killed and three others, including Adair Ithilwen's brother Arden, were injured. The others were pursed east by five of the Nazgul, the other four rode into the Shire in search of Frodo who left Bag End on the twenty-third.
In the Hurried Days, as they were later called, our story is once more taken up upon the arrival of Prince Legolas Thrandruilion of Mirkwood Forest in Imladris on the sixth of October, the first of the Nine Walkers to arrive.
***
"My lord," The servant bowed low as he entered the study, "Prince Legolas has arrived just now from the High Passes. He is on his way here now."
With a wave of a hand, Elrond dismissed the servant and quickly began to clear his desk and all other flat surfaces of the clutter of scrolls, books, and an odd assortment of other papers and mysterious looking contraptions and dials.
'Can't do to have that little prat seeing a mess and telling one and all that the Noldor peredhil is a dirty incompetent,' Elrond thought bitterly, 'why on Arda is the Princeling here? It's bad enough that the Nine are about without that troublemaker hanging his quiver in my halls.'
Such thoughts like those went on in the tall and rather irritated elf lord's mind, taking his anger and aggravation out on the quite undeserving and well-mannered blond haired Prince.
'Only bad news could have brought him here, as usual. If he isn't bringing bad news it's that he's bringing back an injured Estel or a wounded twin… or all of the above. It has been known to happen,' he added, furrowing his brow in frustration.
A cough alerted a rather abashed Elrond to Legolas' presence and, seeing no small amount of amusement on the younger being's face, looked down and saw that he was tearing a scroll nearly in two. With a heavy glare at the Prince, Elrond indignantly shoved the now quite ragged scroll into a drawer in his desk and slammed it shut.
"Your Highness," Elrond bowed his head to the prince who returned the gesture with a mischievous sparkle in his gigantic blue eyes.
"My Lord Elrond," Legolas struggled to control his mirth, "I come bearing news which concerns deeds that your youngest son…"
"Yes, yes, Prince Thrandruilion, I know that you carry news," Elrond cut him off, "I have called for a gathering of peoples for guidance in a great deed. I wish you to remain and attend this council and then you may tell your message to all, unless it is one that deserves the very moment's importance?"
Legolas shook his head; miffed a bit that this half-elf had cut him off, but said naught in fear that the elder lord would give him 'the look'.
"No, Lord Eärendilion, the matter is not utterly pressed or compelling that I must speak my tale now."
Elrond bowed his head, 'I have been too hard on him; I forget that he is older than my sons and has matured greatly since the departure of his mother and eldest brother to Valinor. Yet, I mustn't say he is completely serious - Estel seems to bring out the imp in him. Not that all great lords are sombre and composed, just last year Glorfindel felt the need to pull all manners of pranks on the twins and Arwen.'
"Then I will call for a servant to show you to an empty room that has been prepared for a guest. How many were in your company?"
"Just myself, eight of my company, and my youngest sister. We left not long after Estel and tried to overtake him by taking the High Pass, but he is surely worthy of the name Strider, he beat us quite thoroughly."
Elrond smiled, all hostility for the 'youth' now banished from his mind, "That he does. I suppose I have you and your family to thank for his confounded speed in the wild and his tracking skills."
Legolas, hiding a sly grin, shrugged, "I would have beat him but we were waylaid by orcs and a company of goblins that lurked on the paths. We destroyed them swiftly though they were many, and continued on with little time lost, but 'twas enough for the accursed man to make speed over the northern passes and into the Weather Hills. I saw him clambering quite ungracefully near the Hoarwells on his way westward as my company and I passed over the final hill.
"I expect that he will soon be returning from his travels? I was intrigued in discovering that he was not making to Rivendell but to the wild lands past."
"Oh! Just a moment, lords, I must tell you this," Uinaerien poked her head in the door and, seeing the two noble elves in a deep conversation, hesitated before continuing at the promptings of Elrond, "There is a message just from the watch that a company of dwarves is approaching and appear to be making for this place. What is your response?"
The lord waved his hands dismissively, "No, Uinaerien, let them pass and travel here under the watch of a scout."
The small ranger made to leave but Elrond motioned her to stay, "on second thought, ride out now and meet this company and guide them here, will you mellyn?"
"Yes, my lord," Uinaerien bowed and departed quickly to the stables where she made ready her pony and rode out on the paths to meet the miners.
Legolas, mindful of the close resemblance in features this girl shared with his friend Aragorn, wondered that he had not met this ranger before in particular.
As if knowing his thoughts Elrond explained Uinaerien's kinship to the Dunedain's chieftain and the reason that she was here.
"I am sending messages to your father and uncle and that adan, along with another, will deliver them. I assume that you will stay for a while and accompany my sons on one of their hunting expeditions? Elladan and Elrohir have already left, but once Aragorn arrives you are most welcome to take him with you and find them, they will enjoy your company greatly."
"Of course," Legolas smiled, "once Estel returns I will make sure that we go for at least two days. I'm sure that you'd love nothing more than to get some of us out of your hair, Lord Elrond. It should prove a good distraction for Estel, if what you say is indeed in occurrence he will need a time of rest when he delivers these halflings to you."
"I don't doubt it," said Elrond, "but I wish that you attend this council also. You are learned in many things other than soldiery and woodcraft and your opinion would be greatly appreciated."
The golden haired prince nodded his head and stifled a small yawn.
A dark eyebrow shot up and Elrond suppressed a smile, "I suppose you are weary from your journey and these encounters with goblins and yrch. I will…"
The two elves stopped their motions of rising to depart when a loud knock echoed through the study. Elrond winced, the sound of dwarf boots and gauntlets clapped loudly on polished stone in the outer chamber and he knew that now there was no chance of escaping the emissaries of the Dwarf King.
"Enter," He called, hiding his disappointment and misgivings as the odd assortment of dwarves and one similarly sized ranger filed into the room.
Uinaerien came forward and bowed low to Elrond, clearing her throat daintily as before she announced the guests, "My lords, may I present the Lords Glóin, head councillor of the King Under-the-Mountain, and his son Gimli, Margow son of Margor, Baren son of Theor, and Umran son of Urdock, chief swords smith of Erebor. Friends, this is the Lord Elrond and…" she trailed off as she realized she had no idea who this golden haired elf lord was.
"He is the Prince of Mirkwood, my lady," the greybeard Glóin smiled tensely and bowed his head in her direction, "we are acquainted."
Legolas couldn't, no matter how hard he might have tried (which he didn't) stop himself from flashing a false smile and upturned nose at the elder dwarf, which cause the younger son of the offended dwarf's beard to bristle and put his hand discreetly on his axe handle.
"You might want to turn that scowl a different direction, master elf, if you wish to keep it attached to the rest of your body."
Uinaerien jumped between the two as they advanced, Legolas' eyes flashing with ice and the dwarf's with fire, "Here, here! None of that, my Lords, you are all grown up yet acting like children. Imagine, picking fights in the presence of not only great Elf Lord but in front of a youngster such as myself! I mayhap be scarred for the rest of my life by the tragedy, should it be played out, so STAND DOWN!"
The last words caused both stares of hatred to be momentarily shaken and stare unbelievingly at the apparently young human girl that displayed so much authority that both took a step back and raised their hands before they realized it.
"There, that's better," she sarcastically clucked like a mother hen, "now settle down, children, you must be tuckered out. Come, come, now."
One of the dwarves, despite the seriousness of the situation, giggled in a deep and grumbly voice, making a curious echo vibrate through the room as the company seated themselves after a nod from Elrond.
'Who could have taught her that trick,' Elrond wondered, 'I know that the twins nor Arwen could have taught that to her, and Estel only has mastered my 'Look' so it wasn't him… she sounded just like mother getting after Elros and I when we died Gil-Galad's banner orange…' He sighed, lost in a painful memory of his broken family.
Uinaerien coughed and he was jerked out of his remembrances to discover everyone looking directly at him. He realized that someone must have asked him a question.
"I asked, Lord Elrond, how your children fare?"
That was Glóin.
"Oh, my sons are all outside my borders, at the moment, on various duties."
The greybeard nodded politely, "And the lovely Lady Arwen, I trust that she is well?"
"Yes, Glóin son of Gróin, she is well and is presently living in these lands, having not long returned from her mother's kin in Lorien."
This exchange was pleasant enough and seemed to appease the elderly dwarf's son for the moment, but there was still a smouldering look in his earth coloured eyes.
At this moment Uinaerien, who could tell that the Prince was tired, rose and asked if she might be excused, then turned to Legolas and asked if he would accompany her to the banquet room.
Legolas, seeing a chance to escape which was readily made by the small human, agreed and they exited the study where Elrond and the dwarves began to discuss something or other that neither cared to listen to.
"Your welcome, 'Highness," Uinaerien said in a scolding tone, "for getting you out of a possibly dangerous situation."
Legolas smiled, "do you always speak so to strangers and elf-lords?"
"Is there any way else to," she laughed jovially, "besides, you are a friend of my kinsmen hence a friend of mine. I'm sure Aragorn doesn't need to pansy-handle you so why should I, eh?"
"For one so short I am amazed by your exuberance, you remind me of Estel when he was little and trying to be an elf by wearing thick heeled boots and carrot-ends on his ears."
This picture made the already chuckling girl drop to her knees in howls of laughter.
Legolas snickered to himself, remembering the incident quite clearly.
"Speaking of him," Uinaerien gasped, "have you any idea as to where he may be? There are plots about and I have been worried…" now quite serious, though a small sparkle danced in her eyes, Legolas could see concern written across her face, causing lines and wrinkles that should not be found on such a young one to appear.
'She can only be in her fortieth year, how can she already be getting lines like such?' He wondered sadly. "I am not sure if I should say but I will tell you that, last I saw him, he was safe and making for the Weatherhills."
Uinaerien shook her head in distress, to Legolas' surprise, and she closed her eyes as she inhaled sharply. He could barely catch her mutter, though he had the keen ears of the First Born, "That is good yet terrible news."
Legolas caught her arm and bent to look strait into her eyes, "What is it? What danger is Estel facing?"
No small amount of despair flooded her eyes, "Nazgul."
Constructive (or deconstructive) criticism please!
