Disclaimer: I do not own Mirkwood (or Middle-Earth). Unfortunately, that
means Leggie too! Waaahh!!
A/N: I'm sorry it took me so long to finish this chapter! If only I didn't keep changing my mind... The good news is, I've got another chapter almost ready- unfortunately, there's still two more to write before that one's up! Any ideas? Let me know.
Shoutouts. As most of you should know, I prefer writing individual e-mail messages to each of you, but here's just a few exceptions to that rule:
--Bree: Thank you so much for your continuous support! I'm glad you enjoy reading my fic. I certainly enjoy writing it when I get cool reviews!
--Elentir gurl: Thanks so much for asking me to beta! I certainly enjoy it. To everybody else- go read her new fic (whenever she decides to put it up) or else!
--myheartxyourknife: There ya go, I've updated! Now you (as well as certain other people) should do the same...
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*Chapter 5*
The loud thunk of something falling to the floor woke Erin from a deep sleep. Startled, she sat up in bed and looked around. Instead of the grey bumps of her own bedroom, she saw a high, dark, smooth ceiling; instead of an overlarge, heavy, worn patchwork quilt, she was wrapped in a soft, light blanket. Relief washed over her as she realized where she was. She wondered what time it was- indoors it was always hard for her to tell, as the torches were kept lit in the halls at all times.
After a long, luxurious bath, Erin dressed in a long-sleeved ivory and brown colored dress with a close-fitting bodice that hid most of her remaining bruises. She was still very sore and moved about stiffly, but Imrel's care had helped ease her pain considerably. She studied herself in the mirror. All those scratches and bruises would take at least two weeks to start to fade, she decided, but at least she would look no worse afterwards than she had before. She blessed good genes: she healed fast and well, and the few scars she had were almost imperceptible.
As Erin brushed her long, dark hair, she tried to think up a different way to wear it. It was beautiful, but it was so long because she refused to cut it that it was hard to do anything with it besides wearing it in a ponytail or braiding it, which she couldn't do very neatly. Therefore, it was usually loose and mostly hanging in her face.
A soft knock on her door brought her back to reality. It was Imrel, coming by to see if she was awake yet. "Would you like me to help with your hair?" he asked from the doorway. Erin grinned. "Sure. Two heads are worse than one to brush. Come on in." They laughed together. He understood her meaning.
***
Nearly three hours later, with Erin's hair done up in as neat an elven braid as Imrel could manage with her moving around, that was held in place with an ivory strip (torn from her gown when he wasn't looking), they headed out into the forest all set to have a picnic. Well, actually it was a picnic only from Erin's point of view, because for Imrel it was just an outdoor meal (namely, a late breakfast). When he had told her that, she'd just rolled her eyes at the ceiling and muttered, "Had to be an elf," which earned her quite a few reproachful looks from several people nearby.
They walked for at least three hours at a brisk pace before they finally got to the nearest eating area. It was basically just a clearing, with a handful of tree stumps for seats, but the lessening of trees and foliage allowed more light and a slight breeze that made it a very pleasant change from the rest of the dark forest and (Erin thought) from being in the palace. The light was a beautiful glowing dark green that made it seem surreal, like a place in a dream.
Erin fell, more than sat upon the first tree stump she reached. Her clothes and shoes were light and comfortable, but not enough so for doing stuff like hiking in the forest, so she felt tired, and her feet were killing her. Imrel's swift pace had not helped much at all, but of course, since it hadn't been fast for him, he didn't notice. Meanwhile, he was gathering fallen branches to use as fuel for a fire, just in case. There were still several lairs of giant spiders left, and even though they rarely dared to go near clearings the elves still frequented, he knew from experience it was best to be careful.
Erin started to set out the food he had brought and realized just how hungry she was. She hadn't eaten a thing since before the fight with her aunt, and only looking at the food made her stomach start growling. It wasn't very good to look at, but the aroma was so delicious she started to doubt whether she should wait for him.
There was sweet-smelling grayish fruit, a large number of strange-looking mushrooms, several types of meat, soft rolls of whole-wheat bread, and small, dark cupcakes sprinkled with what seemed to be chopped nuts on top. Also, a large leather flask she had filled with wine when no one was watching over it.
Imrel noticed her restlessness, so he hurriedly kindled a small fire and came to sit next to her on the forest floor. He looked so comfortable there, Erin finally gave in and slipped beside him shortly after they began to eat. At first she tried hard to eat slowly, but the food was so good, and she was so hungry she finally started wolfing it all down, until Imrel took her hands in his. "Easy," he said, "or you'll make yourself sick."
Erin nodded, finished chewing her mouthful of food, and swallowed it, before explaining, "I haven't had a thing since the afternoon before the day I got here until right now. I'm hungry, and this stuff is delicious. It's just about the best food I've had in my life." Imrel's eyes widened slightly. "Little wonder you were eating like that. That was nearly three days ago you last ate." She blushed.
They continued eating until all the food was gone. Erin sighed contentedly and began to clear things up. There wasn't much to do except gather all the leaf wrappings together in a pile to keep the fire going with. They were still not very dry, and the fire began to smoke, filling the air with a soft, sweet, lingering scent that reminded Erin of raspberry incense.
The wine had been excellent, sweet and strong. As a matter of fact, it was Dorwinion wine, the Elvenking's best and favorite, as well as the most expensive. Erin had begun to feel drowsy after only three glasses and stopped, but Imrel had kept on drinking it as if it were water throughout the whole meal. Now, they were just sitting there, watching the fire burn to embers and talking about their favorite drinks and such.
At his bidding, Erin served them each another glass of wine (nearly the last they had left). She leaned back against the tree trunk, enjoying the silence as they drank up. Suddenly, Imrel looked up at her as if he had only just noticed her presence and started to laugh softly. She stared at him, confused, and asked what was so funny. "You look so different with your hair like that- like an elven maid," was the smiling answer. His words were slurred, and she realized the wine was starting to go to his head.
"Imrel, bite your tongue," she asked him. That was a trick she had learned when she had first started to drink, when she was about thirteen: when you're starting to lose the sensibility in your tongue, you're starting to get drunk. "I can't," he said finally, "I think I'm doing it, but I don't feel anything."
Erin groaned. "You are drunk. Now how are we going to get back? I don't know the way." It was starting to get pretty dark. "Don't worry, I can lead us back," he assured her with a cute, sloppy smile all over his face. She shook her head, "No way, I don't want to get lost out here." "Trust me Erin, we can get back."
He looked like he was about to run off any moment and leave her there. Knowing better than to try to change his mind, she just nodded and gave him a weak smile. "Alright," she said softly, trying to sound convincing, "But I'm a little bit tired right now, can I rest awhile before we go?" Another sloppy smile for her along with a slurred, "Of course, Erin." He looked so funny she almost laughed.
Erin added the last leaves to the fire, silently chastising herself for having let him drink that much. Now they would have to spend the night outside in the forest, and all she had was a thin, largish cloak to keep her warm. 'If only the fire weren't almost out, and if only there were some more wine left... dratted elves, they don't feel cold, but I do...' she thought sleepily, not realizing the wine was starting to have an effect on her as well.
Her eyes began to close of their own accord, and she slid down to the ground, where Imrel was already asleep, with his eyes open and blinking slowly in time to his breathing. She wrapped her cloak tightly around herself and snuggled up against him, trying to keep warm. Her movements woke him up again, and (much to her surprise), he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close.
His feather-light fingertips ran gently down her face, coming to a stop when they reached her lips, tracing their outline. He whispered something unintelligible in her ear, and his face moved softly, slowly towards her own until his lips met hers in the most gentle, sweet kiss. A kiss that would haunt her for long, torturing her heart and teasing her lips, where the memory of his lingered...
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
A/N: Well, there ya go! Alright people, you know what to do to keep this author happy... so get to it! Lol. Just kidding. Well, maybe not. ;-) Ohh, and wait: I mean to change my fics name. Any suggestions? (Please, no grey- company elvish- nothing against it, but I´m trying to be as Tolkien-fact as possible.)
A/N: I'm sorry it took me so long to finish this chapter! If only I didn't keep changing my mind... The good news is, I've got another chapter almost ready- unfortunately, there's still two more to write before that one's up! Any ideas? Let me know.
Shoutouts. As most of you should know, I prefer writing individual e-mail messages to each of you, but here's just a few exceptions to that rule:
--Bree: Thank you so much for your continuous support! I'm glad you enjoy reading my fic. I certainly enjoy writing it when I get cool reviews!
--Elentir gurl: Thanks so much for asking me to beta! I certainly enjoy it. To everybody else- go read her new fic (whenever she decides to put it up) or else!
--myheartxyourknife: There ya go, I've updated! Now you (as well as certain other people) should do the same...
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
*Chapter 5*
The loud thunk of something falling to the floor woke Erin from a deep sleep. Startled, she sat up in bed and looked around. Instead of the grey bumps of her own bedroom, she saw a high, dark, smooth ceiling; instead of an overlarge, heavy, worn patchwork quilt, she was wrapped in a soft, light blanket. Relief washed over her as she realized where she was. She wondered what time it was- indoors it was always hard for her to tell, as the torches were kept lit in the halls at all times.
After a long, luxurious bath, Erin dressed in a long-sleeved ivory and brown colored dress with a close-fitting bodice that hid most of her remaining bruises. She was still very sore and moved about stiffly, but Imrel's care had helped ease her pain considerably. She studied herself in the mirror. All those scratches and bruises would take at least two weeks to start to fade, she decided, but at least she would look no worse afterwards than she had before. She blessed good genes: she healed fast and well, and the few scars she had were almost imperceptible.
As Erin brushed her long, dark hair, she tried to think up a different way to wear it. It was beautiful, but it was so long because she refused to cut it that it was hard to do anything with it besides wearing it in a ponytail or braiding it, which she couldn't do very neatly. Therefore, it was usually loose and mostly hanging in her face.
A soft knock on her door brought her back to reality. It was Imrel, coming by to see if she was awake yet. "Would you like me to help with your hair?" he asked from the doorway. Erin grinned. "Sure. Two heads are worse than one to brush. Come on in." They laughed together. He understood her meaning.
***
Nearly three hours later, with Erin's hair done up in as neat an elven braid as Imrel could manage with her moving around, that was held in place with an ivory strip (torn from her gown when he wasn't looking), they headed out into the forest all set to have a picnic. Well, actually it was a picnic only from Erin's point of view, because for Imrel it was just an outdoor meal (namely, a late breakfast). When he had told her that, she'd just rolled her eyes at the ceiling and muttered, "Had to be an elf," which earned her quite a few reproachful looks from several people nearby.
They walked for at least three hours at a brisk pace before they finally got to the nearest eating area. It was basically just a clearing, with a handful of tree stumps for seats, but the lessening of trees and foliage allowed more light and a slight breeze that made it a very pleasant change from the rest of the dark forest and (Erin thought) from being in the palace. The light was a beautiful glowing dark green that made it seem surreal, like a place in a dream.
Erin fell, more than sat upon the first tree stump she reached. Her clothes and shoes were light and comfortable, but not enough so for doing stuff like hiking in the forest, so she felt tired, and her feet were killing her. Imrel's swift pace had not helped much at all, but of course, since it hadn't been fast for him, he didn't notice. Meanwhile, he was gathering fallen branches to use as fuel for a fire, just in case. There were still several lairs of giant spiders left, and even though they rarely dared to go near clearings the elves still frequented, he knew from experience it was best to be careful.
Erin started to set out the food he had brought and realized just how hungry she was. She hadn't eaten a thing since before the fight with her aunt, and only looking at the food made her stomach start growling. It wasn't very good to look at, but the aroma was so delicious she started to doubt whether she should wait for him.
There was sweet-smelling grayish fruit, a large number of strange-looking mushrooms, several types of meat, soft rolls of whole-wheat bread, and small, dark cupcakes sprinkled with what seemed to be chopped nuts on top. Also, a large leather flask she had filled with wine when no one was watching over it.
Imrel noticed her restlessness, so he hurriedly kindled a small fire and came to sit next to her on the forest floor. He looked so comfortable there, Erin finally gave in and slipped beside him shortly after they began to eat. At first she tried hard to eat slowly, but the food was so good, and she was so hungry she finally started wolfing it all down, until Imrel took her hands in his. "Easy," he said, "or you'll make yourself sick."
Erin nodded, finished chewing her mouthful of food, and swallowed it, before explaining, "I haven't had a thing since the afternoon before the day I got here until right now. I'm hungry, and this stuff is delicious. It's just about the best food I've had in my life." Imrel's eyes widened slightly. "Little wonder you were eating like that. That was nearly three days ago you last ate." She blushed.
They continued eating until all the food was gone. Erin sighed contentedly and began to clear things up. There wasn't much to do except gather all the leaf wrappings together in a pile to keep the fire going with. They were still not very dry, and the fire began to smoke, filling the air with a soft, sweet, lingering scent that reminded Erin of raspberry incense.
The wine had been excellent, sweet and strong. As a matter of fact, it was Dorwinion wine, the Elvenking's best and favorite, as well as the most expensive. Erin had begun to feel drowsy after only three glasses and stopped, but Imrel had kept on drinking it as if it were water throughout the whole meal. Now, they were just sitting there, watching the fire burn to embers and talking about their favorite drinks and such.
At his bidding, Erin served them each another glass of wine (nearly the last they had left). She leaned back against the tree trunk, enjoying the silence as they drank up. Suddenly, Imrel looked up at her as if he had only just noticed her presence and started to laugh softly. She stared at him, confused, and asked what was so funny. "You look so different with your hair like that- like an elven maid," was the smiling answer. His words were slurred, and she realized the wine was starting to go to his head.
"Imrel, bite your tongue," she asked him. That was a trick she had learned when she had first started to drink, when she was about thirteen: when you're starting to lose the sensibility in your tongue, you're starting to get drunk. "I can't," he said finally, "I think I'm doing it, but I don't feel anything."
Erin groaned. "You are drunk. Now how are we going to get back? I don't know the way." It was starting to get pretty dark. "Don't worry, I can lead us back," he assured her with a cute, sloppy smile all over his face. She shook her head, "No way, I don't want to get lost out here." "Trust me Erin, we can get back."
He looked like he was about to run off any moment and leave her there. Knowing better than to try to change his mind, she just nodded and gave him a weak smile. "Alright," she said softly, trying to sound convincing, "But I'm a little bit tired right now, can I rest awhile before we go?" Another sloppy smile for her along with a slurred, "Of course, Erin." He looked so funny she almost laughed.
Erin added the last leaves to the fire, silently chastising herself for having let him drink that much. Now they would have to spend the night outside in the forest, and all she had was a thin, largish cloak to keep her warm. 'If only the fire weren't almost out, and if only there were some more wine left... dratted elves, they don't feel cold, but I do...' she thought sleepily, not realizing the wine was starting to have an effect on her as well.
Her eyes began to close of their own accord, and she slid down to the ground, where Imrel was already asleep, with his eyes open and blinking slowly in time to his breathing. She wrapped her cloak tightly around herself and snuggled up against him, trying to keep warm. Her movements woke him up again, and (much to her surprise), he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close.
His feather-light fingertips ran gently down her face, coming to a stop when they reached her lips, tracing their outline. He whispered something unintelligible in her ear, and his face moved softly, slowly towards her own until his lips met hers in the most gentle, sweet kiss. A kiss that would haunt her for long, torturing her heart and teasing her lips, where the memory of his lingered...
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
A/N: Well, there ya go! Alright people, you know what to do to keep this author happy... so get to it! Lol. Just kidding. Well, maybe not. ;-) Ohh, and wait: I mean to change my fics name. Any suggestions? (Please, no grey- company elvish- nothing against it, but I´m trying to be as Tolkien-fact as possible.)
