The Thankyou's have been added to the end of the chapter…
Disclaimer: I do not own nor am I affiliated with any of the Lord of the Rings companies that are currently under copyright with Tolkien Enterprises and NewLine Cinema and many characters/places are taken for non-profit use only from J.R.R. Tolkien's masterpiece. Don't bother suing me, I have no money!
Dedication: To Nienna Nir – whose support and story has made me smile so much.
****** I sincerely recommend you all to read "A Tangled Web" – it is truly a masterpiece of humour, love and hope entwined – especially since there are so many love triangles happening. One of my favourite parts of the entire story is Haldir tounge-tied. Characters include; Haldir and co., Legolas, Elladan and Elrohir, Elrond and co., Aragorn, Arwen, Galadreil and Celeborn – plus some incredibly lifelike elleth's out to snag themselves the perfect elf. [Watch for Indelin])******
Also Lady of Dragons who with only a few words gave me so much confidence in myself as a writer – you are both truly an inspiration and I cannot fully describe how wonderfully appreciated, respected and beautiful you are to me.
P.S. If you are bored waiting for the next chapter to arrive try reading my other short story called "Of Silver Roses" – it is set in Rohan and if you are liking Estelio Ammen, I'm pretty sure you might like it as well. It is COMPLETE.
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The news was slow to be comprehended. Lady. Order. Caras Galadhon. Me? Câlavendë wasn't sure if they were serious after all they had only just told her she was never to be allowed back into Lothlorien. Her pale hands ran over the careworn surface of her staff, trying to find something to say.
At last, bewildered, she murmured, "I do not understand."
Haldir frowned, now why doesn't that surprise me, and couldn't help the feeling of unwanted duty creep into his voice.
"We are to escort you as a guest to Caras Galadhon, elleth.[Elf-girl] Come this way."
He made to depart gesturing to his companions who had already formed into groups to stay on the borders, whilst he and his brothers took Câlavendë to the Lady. He was already walking back towards the heart of Lothlorien when he looked over his shoulder to see Câlavendë still standing on the spot he had first seen her. She spoke one word and he ground his teeth in irritation.
"If you will follow…,"he paused, the word only now causing him to start, "I beg your pardon?"
"Are you hard of hearing March Warden, I said - No."
"No to what? My presence? That can not be avoided," he thought about Galadriel's words and added stiffly, "much as I wish it were otherwise. No to being escorted? Well, you can hardly find the way yourself in your state. No to journey as a guest? I would have thought you would prefer guest than prisoner, but if you are that way inclined, I would be delighted to make the arrangements."
Câlavendë could almost feel the rope again on her wrists, causing her to be unbalanced and graceless, something she would never admit humiliated her, and the cruel chuckle or merciless laugh of Haldir.
"No, I will not go to Caras Galadhon."
She could feel his anger rising.
First she avoids my questions, then threatens my brother and finally refuses to be escorted. She is insufferable!"You are increasingly a bane of existence," frustrated beyond belief he threw up his hands and paced – two steps left, two steps right.
"Now now, we are not here to trade insults, but be childlike if you wish."
"Stop being so damn insolent and obey me." He retorted, stopping in front of her and for a moment seeing her as a younger, disobedient Warden.
"Obey, you? I would rather walk openly in to Mordor and knock on the Black Gate itself. Now if you would ask me in a more civil manner, may I remind you I am no longer your prisoner March Warden but a guest, I may be obliged to consider your request."
"It was not a request…," he murmured through gritted teeth, but Câlavendë seemed unconcerned. She was actually enjoying herself.
"I am waiting March Warden."
Haldir took a deep breath, resumed his rigid and passive exterior, and continued with grudging civility, which could be seen as a mockery of graciousness.
"It would please me if you would accompany us to Caras Galadhon, elle…," he cut himself short, "Miss Súliell."
She knew she infuriated him more by pretending to think.
"Hennaid [Thank-you] March Warden, but I must respectfully decline for I fear your presence is near suffocating, and whilst my company may be pleasurable, the feeling is not reciprocated."
Rúmil and Orophin took one look at their brother and knew that she was pushing him too far. They were moments away from witnessing a swift murder. Haldir's anger was something anyone that knew him was determined not to awaken. Cold, and often a master at rendering the other a blubbering mess by no other means than stepping forward and staring hard at them with his deadly keen eyes, he was one of the most fearful opponents if ever a dispute arose, and that was even before given a weapon. Orophin put a restraining hand on Haldir's shoulder, telling him without words to hold his anger in check whilst Rúmil spoke swiftly to Câlavendë.
"Miss Câlavendë, please, you are doing yourself no service by angering him."
She sighed, realising she had sunk so low as to toy with the March Warden. It was the Lady of the Golden Woods who wanted to speak with her and if that meant a long walk in uncomfortable company, then so be it.
"Master Haldir, I reconsider your offer and I would be most honoured to accept your invitation to be escorted as a guest to Caras Galadhon."
The tension eased noticeably and Haldir was able to compose himself so that he was less animated, more distant and unfeeling. In truth he became his title, the March Warden. Câlavendë could feel the other elves, who had stayed in earshot in their small watch groups to hear the argument, move into the surrounding trees and back to their talan's on the fences, the borderlands of Lothlorien. Clothed in the weave of Lorien they appeared grey when closely observed, but could blend into any environment they found themselves in. Rippling green of the canopy, dark shadows and browns of the dense forest floor, mirroring both the day and the cobalt and silver darkness of night. They could not be seen or heard such was their craft in woodland lore in addition to their elvish athleticism and instinctive gifts. Three indistinct bird calls later Câlavendë could no longer feel their presence.
"Come…", Haldir said, noting sadly the lengthening shadows and how one misfortunate meeting in the early evening could mean one night and a long walk spent in unfortunate company. The wind was still to the south, the same wind she entered the woods on and perhaps, Haldir mused, she would leave when the wind changed. He could only hope.
Câlavendë, now with her staff safe in her hands, could easily walk behind Haldir with Orophin and Rúmil on either side of her. The grace in which she had first appeared returned and with the hood still shadowing her face, one could almost believe her to be an Eldar of great importance. Haldir set a pace that was punishing, but Câlavendë had no trouble keeping up, though her mind was far from walking under leaf and bow.
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"Your staff, Ca…Ca-Câla."
Shaneth hands me something wrapped in an old bolt of ripped cloth and I smile to where I know he is sitting. We are in front of the little fire that snaps angrily at its rusted grate in the tiny house of wood, that lets cold winds in through unseen cracks and boasts a dirt floor worn smooth by passing feet. He sits on the only stool, which is just a remnant of an old tree and I kneel on one of the soft mats I have made from feathers crudely stuffed into a mattress made of pieces of discarded material sown together.
We had found the dilapidated house on the banks of the Ringló in Lamedon, north-east of Dol Amroth, and decided to stay since the wind had quieted, no longer causing my unrest. Without sight the wind is like a hand pushing me from behind, a sense of direction and guidance in a world where North and South, the stars and sun are meaningless.
How I miss the stars, the beloved of my people, though sometimes I can feel the pull of Eärendil.
The cloth is rough under my hands as I pull it away from Shaneth's gift. He had been working on it for many enquier
[elvish term for "weeks" – one week {enqui} is six days-] and I had often heard him singing as he did so; he says that it steadies his hands. It is a gift he has wanted to give me ever since he had begun teaching me the art of the staff and now it is finally finished. As the cloth falls away my fingers trail feather-light the length of the staff. To it's sharpened tip and blunted end, the craftsmanship is like no other. There is hard oak, wood of strength and protection, but it has been engraved upon, and with more touch I recognise markings to be the vine of my home, the Vine of Dol Amroth. The same vine I had embroidered countless times over, the vine of Varda – Queen of Stars. The vine is silver leaved and insubstantial, light as a feather to the touch yet its fragile appearance belies it's strength. The vine's flowers bloom both night and day until the first rain comes from the sea, and shine with ethereal beauty like many tiny stars upon earth. I touch the engraving again and feel a softer timber, Willow, wood of intuition and wisdom, inlaid within. My fingertips trace the vine again and find something they don't recognize, something round, but cut so that it has many faces. I gasp.
" 'When the leaves are falling,
The wind it passes by,
It sings of Our Lady,
Of Varda, Queen on high.
Yet the stars fought with the wind,
Of who that she loved more,
So the Lady bowed her head,
And spoke these words of lore.
'I love the wind, it is true,
Yet the stars so brightly shine,
So both I shall, truly love,
And make into the vine.'
The vine it twisted like the wind,
Of silver almost unseen,
The flower bloomed in heavenly light,
A star on Earth, gift of the Queen.'
Shaneth's song reawakens the desire for home, for Dol Amroth, my beautiful city by the sea. My mother sung The Vine by my cradle when I was a child and a fierce stab of pain tears at my heart. What would I give to be a child, held in her arms after a bad dream, rocked to sleep, safe, loved…
" … tis the sis-ss-ter of the Arken-ss –st – stone, the Heart of-of-of (he takes a stolen breath) the Mou-mountain. This is the He-he-Heart of the Vine. A g-g-gift…"
I touch the many faceted stone, the Heart of the Vine, again and feel it's light course through my veins, illuminating my dark soul. I know that this embedded gem represents the flower on the carved vine of my staff. The Elder call it the "re Hwesta Silme, Heart of Breeze and Starlight – the two elements in the making of Dol Amroth's Vine, and it was given to him as a gift from someone he refused to name and is his most treasured possession.
"I am not worthy of such a gift, Shaneth –," but he silences my protests by gripping my hand and kissing it softly. The warmest display of affection he has ever shown. The only and the last.
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"…almost unseen,
The flower bloomed in heavenly light,
A Star on Earth, gift of the Queen." Câlavendë ended softly, the last note trailing off into the gathering evening shadows. She did not have a strong voice, nor did it trill or inspire, but it was known as a storytellers voice. A voice that feels the tale and no matter if the tune was the same, the emotive force behind it could enthral an audience. Compared to a bard, her voice was a poor substitute as a sparrow is against a lark. A bard could feel the story and also add a musical element that was beyond compare.
The silence lengthened without a word passing.
"You sing well enough…for one without training that is," Orophin grudgingly admitted.
"Ah, now we touch on one of Orophin's sore points. A century of musical lessons have failed to give this poor unfortunate nightingale one in tune squawk. A pity, because ladies seem to think a musically inclined edhel is a more sophisticated catch." She heard something hit Rúmil. "Oof…. What was that for?"
"At least I don't offer maidens the chance to learn the beautiful art of sword filing."
"That mistake with Estorwen was a completely one off experience. I had no idea it would end so disastrously. Yet at least I can win the maidens by serenading them, whereas you seem intent on deafening them." He mock-whispered to Câlavendë, "He was forbidden last ethuil [Spring] from even offering to sing the Lay of Nimrodel after he literally shattered Undomiel's wine goblet the coranar [sun-round - year] before. I heard it was her favourite too."
"Excuse me, how many times must I explain. The buffoon Glornond tripped over his ever-expanding cloak-train, which I might add was at the height of elvish fashion at least 2000 coranar ago, and knocked the goblet out of the Lady's hand."
"Yes, Yes whatever you say dear brother," aside, "terrible liar, always was."
" Me?! A terrible liar? Who said the reason Elladan was without a shirt was because he could not find a clean one? You might remember he is practically a Prince of Elves and is likely to never run out of clean shirts in the near future when you spoke to Lord Elrond."
"Well at least Lord Elrond didn't see the slightly dishevelled elleth hiding in the undergrowth."
"Yes, congratulations on so ingeniously preventing a case of father-slaying-son-with-bare-hands," Orophin's sarcasm hanging on every word.
"I know I'm a genius, I have been telling you that my entire life – an edhel prodigy." Rúmil sniffed, and started to walk with hands clasped behind his back, long direct strides and head erect in the air.
"More like an edhel dunce," Orophin commented when Rúmil tripped on a large root.
"I'll have you know the youngest is usually the most intelligent in a family."
Orophin sighed dramatically, "To that I'm afraid we are the exception."
Their playful banter ended abruptly when Haldir suddenly stopped and turned on his heel, Câlavendë just recognising his presence in front of her before she careered into him.
"Enough! I cannot stand this dim-witted discourse anymore. I have met many obnoxious Elder in my years, but it seems my own brothers top the calibre for most aggravatingly, annoying, imbeciles. That is your talan," he points to a tree to the left, "that is mine, " he points to another tree at least 50 metres away. "Not one of you brainless creatures will be anywhere near me tonight. We leave at minuial[time before dawn]."
Rúmil murmured, "Touché," and was given a death glare from Haldir. He stormed off to his talan and was soon climbing up into the canopy.
When she was sure he was gone, Câlavendë sat heavily on the ground and at first glance both Rúmil and Orophin thought she was crying. Her shoulders were shaking and she had her face in her hands and stifled sounds like a cross between gasps and sobs were coming from underneath her hood. It wasn't until they came closer that they realised she was laughing uncontrollably, though they were bewildered at it's cause. After she had finally calmed down she smiled wryly, it had been a long time since she had laughed so carefreely.
"Are you always like this together?"
"Yes," Rúmil responded instantaneously.
"Well, technically, no, on the fences we seem to grow up a bit. Or at least I do, I just ignore the immature ramblings of my younger and less worldly experienced brother." Orophin looked down his nose at his ever so slightly shorter sibling.
Rúmil tapped Orophin's chest. "I will have you know I was worldly experienced before you were."
Orophin raised one perfectly manicured eyebrow. "Oh really?"
"Please, enough – I don't think – my sides – can take much more," Câlavendë gasped between her laughter, holding her abdomen in earnest.
"As you say my lady. I guess we should go up, but whilst we are mobile, whose up for stealing Haldir's boots," two heads turned towards Rúmil in astonishment. "So-oo then, no-one's up for stealing Haldir's boots…?"
"I think we should just leave him be and retire for the night. I don't think he would appreciate anymore disputes, especially after I refused to come with him," Câlavendë stated as she tied her staff onto her back.
Orophin retrieved the rope ladder, adjusting it against the tree's base, which was an elm of great height.
"Ladies first."
Câlavendë reached her hand out tentatively for the ladder, wavering a little in direction, before finally clasping hold of it. The brothers noted this with quiet unease, once again reminded that their guest was no ordinary edhel. She began to ascend into the canopy, albeit a little hesitantly.
"It is not so long to Caras Galadhon tomorrow. You do know he would have tied you in a sack and brought you to Lothlorien that way if you had truly been stubborn? He is not used to being disobeyed." Rúmil called, already climbing up after her.
"Well he should be defied more often. He is becoming too arrogant and set in his own ways."
Rúmil sighed, "He is not so arrogant and cold as you seem to think."
I will believe that when I see it and at the moment that is not a possibility. Câlavendë clambered lightly up to finally sit on the small talan, Rúmil close behind her, and waited as Orophin drew up the ladder. The flet was small, but well screened from prying eyes, yet advantageous in the fact that they could see out quite well. They ate a meagre meal of lembas and strollin, a mixture of nuts and dried fruits that Câlavendë had from Dol Amroth and kept inside her belt pouch. The brothers were actually startled to hear a chuckle from her as they distributed the blankets and set the plaited screen against the wind, there was still enough evening light for the lamp to remain unlit.
"Come, come, spit out the joke!"
"No, I was just thinking, 'thank-goodness I cannot see'."
"Why is that, fair guest-of ours?" Rúmil asked, taking out his knife and whittling at a broad stick he had found earlier in the day and saved for such a time as this.
"I am not too fond of heights."
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Thankyou too…
Darkslytherin'angel – thankyou so much for your critique of my story – I have amended my mistakes and I respect your insights whole heartedly. I am so glad you picked up on the reference of Shakespeare.. I like to put some quirks in like that. Thankyou again.
Lily Ashling – you wouldn't happen to have read Obernwetyn would you? Nada y pues – two chapters is not all I'm up for, but time is something I tend to have losing battle with. This story is most likely to be over 20 chapters in length. Yami Ray – I didn't know my story could touch someone so much, I hope it will continue too – goodluck to you. Bratprincess, Green eyes616 & Crystalline4 – not to worry I will keep writing, just for you all!! Dönatallana - you will understand why I will respectfully decline your invitation though I do hope you keep reading. Blessed be. Lalita – you know how much you're wonderful!!! Speak to you soon! Liomi – thankyou, ah yes how she was made blind, that shall be explained further ito the story – just to keep everyone intrigued!! Laureline - *helps her back onto chair* - and I shall try to write faster! Twenty four hour open – I am happy to see you are finding this story intriguing! It is a little bit different, but then again I would'nt have it any other way! Mel – yes the development of characters I always find needs to be more than just physical characteristics and so it will be a long process of discoveryf or the readers, so that my characters become alive! Guestofhalir's – heating up as in love? Hehehe, not for a bit yet, but heating up in arguments – guaranteed. I love Rumil too!! Sarah – hello again! Hrmm your questions will be answered in the following chapters and I really don't want to spoil the surprise for anyone reading! Keep reviewing, gorgeous. Sokochan – thanks for your review and how you picked up on the Shakespeare! Yes, Rumil is a real sweetie. Not to worry the lady hasn't let Haldir off so lightly, yet! There are surprises to come, so enjoy! Gloryfaith – yes Dol Amroth was always a favourite of mine and I was saddened that it hardly got mentioned and I really liked Imrahil. I didn't want to portray him as a meanie, but as a man of the people and with compassion… so he always appeared to me in the books. I truly wish to explore the prejudices and show it's flaws about how it can blind someone of the truth if they let it, it's a major theme of mine too. Goodluck always. Starwatcher, luckylily, Nikki Daisy Princess – thanks for the encouragement, it means a lot! Cam – the prejudice is always an interesting topic for me!! Amber Rose – yes, I'm not for the mary Sue's… to predictable and originality is my theme! Jfrog – hello again! Please continue to sit back and enjoy the ride!! Belladonna – Bella, not to worry my harshness with Haldir is only temporary. Thankyou for your beautiful review.
Notes: This chapter was to lighten the mood. I was finding it has become morbid, and like many other short stories I have penned over time, they were all decidedly sad in most parts, though I am a perfectly happy person myself. If you did like the seriousness, do not be afraid that it will vanish – it won't. I have a lot in store for my heroine and hero's, and I believe this should include both grief and joy in equal measure – otherwise where is the life in the story without it?!!
See the lilac button – it says "Gorgeous, if you liked this, please send me a review!"