Legolas woke slowly to the sound of crickets chirping. Such creatures were not native to the forest of Mirkwood, but he had encountered them occasionally on the road and remembered them from his first visit to Rivendell. He felt relieved. Their presence tonight was all but essential to his mission.
He rose from his crouching position and stretched. Though stiff at first, Legolas felt better by the time he had crossed the room and reached the door. His hand found the handle and he opened it. A calming breeze rushed cool against his cheeks, which had dried tearstained as he slept, and now stung fiercely.
When Elrond and Elladan had come to check on him earlier that evening, the younger had recognized Legolas' robe as one of his. The elder, finally realizing Legolas' plight, had found him two sets of appropriate clothes and promised Legolas more could be made for him any time he wished.
At the moment he was wearing a robe. It was loose, with a top that reached about mid thigh, and pants that fell loosely. The ends hovered just above the floor. They were unsuitable clothes, and the riding set, which was tighter fitting and made of a material designed not to snag on branches, would have been perfect.
Unfortunately, Legolas couldn't manage the straps and ties of such an outfit, and there was absolutely no way he was going to ask someone to help him dress. In light of this, the robe he wore was the default. It would have to be dealt with just as surely as the other handicaps. He wouldn't let them hinder him, not since she'd taught him better.
He reached into one of his deep pockets and withdrew from it a jar. Elrond had also given this to him, as a reward for finishing its vile contents, which the healer insisted would make him feel better.
There was a dull tingling running up and down his limbs. It was the only response his body was giving him though, and he was thankful for even that as he walked to the ledge. From here, the noise seemed to rule the night, and its constant strength heartened him.
He placed the jar on the rail and waited. After a moment of silent apprenticeship, Legolas imitated the call of the crickets, and after another moment he heard one strand of the orchestra bear towards him on silent wings.
Its rumbling chorus was cut short when Legolas deftly reached out and caught it. He cradled it in his hand briefly, marveling at how small it felt, before gently coaxing it into the jar. He repeated this again and again, catching the creatures until he heard a distinct and powerful chirp coming from the jar.
Legolas placed a cloth over the bottle, and with some effort tied a string around it. Once satisfied that the seal was secure, he breathed deeply.
Calming his spirit as he had always been taught seemed more difficult now. He purged his mind of excess emotion and willed himself to be empty and transparent as the jar had once been. Unfortunately he felt too much like it was now, as though crickets were dancing in his stomach too.
At length, Legolas made one final check on the jar, satisfying himself that it was secure.
"Forgive me friends. If it is within your power, please bring me back here." He whispered, and with that, he vaulted over the rail. For Legolas, it was a leap from darkness into darkness.
Arwen skipped the evening meal that night and headed straight for her room. She remembered the first time they had met, how she had been angry with Legolas. Indeed she remembered walking away, determined never to speak to him again. But then he had called to her.
She shook her head angrily. He had not stopped her this time, and more than anything else that was what bothered her. The frustration that filled her was maddening.
Why had he pushed her away just when they had been making so much progress? Obviously there was more to him she had yet to know, but she was ready to be patient and open. Why wasn't he?
"I though he trusted me...even liked me. How could I have misjudged him so?" Arwen cried aloud as though the vermilion ceiling would shout down a perfectly rational answer.
Was he just using her? Buying her out by means of sympathy and bringing her into a relationship that meant nothing to him, yet so much to her?
Though Arwen's heart protested she was too far-gone on her poison logic to pay it any mind. How angry she was, angry and betrayed, and she never wanted to see him again! Scowling into the mirror and cursing his name she put on her nightclothes.
Suddenly, as her hand brushed by her ankle, she paused and glanced down. The greenleaf pendant was gone! Frantic, she rose and dashed off to search throughout her room. Nose to the floor, she covered every square inch, checked her bed, and even went a little out into the hallway.
After half an hour, the search still fruitless, Arwen finally collapsed onto her bed. A great feeling of emptiness seized her. Not only did this feeling seem more deeply rooted than her anger, she had no idea how to deal with it. She had never felt this way before.
Arwen rose and walked over to her dresser. She opened the top drawer and pulled out a wooden box. Opening the lid carefully, she rummaged past an exquisite hairpin, a scarlet ribbon, some yellowed parchment, and various other seemingly unrelated trinkets until she came upon a neatly folded handkerchief. It was stained and ruffled, looking just as it did the day it was folded and placed in the box. The crest of the Mirkwood royal family was embroidered on one corner.
Arwen removed the item, though it was not what she had been searching for. She carried it reverently back to her bed and after one more glance around the room, she sunk onto the bed.
'I have lost my greenleaf.' She thought, and inconsolable, she sunk her face into her pillow, clutching the handkerchief tightly. It would not be the last time she would soak the cushion, or deny herself any rest on his behalf.
Even when Arwen's sobs and sniffles had died away, sleep would not come to her. She lay in her bed, tossing and turning. Once she fell into a light sleep, but awoke moments later, no more rested than before.
Finally, she gave up on the world of dreams, and decided to search for the anklet once more. She must've lost it late last night, and only a few others would have passed the places she had passed between then and now.
Truth be told, in the residential area the greenleaf would be relatively safe. Only trusted elves passed through, and they would almost certainly turn it in to Glorfindel. She had also, however, passed through the Healing wing and other adjacent areas where travelers stayed whom she did not trust so much.
The hallways of Rivendell were empty as a tomb. She was deeply enclosed in thick walls and heard no sounds of the outside. The only consistent noise came from the candles that ran the length of the halls. Arwen also carried her own light, which she used to search wherever shadow fell upon the floor.
Cautiously Arwen retraced her steps. Her trepidation made her overly cautious, and she was always on a lookout for the nearest hiding place. Being up so late at night would be hard to explain, especially since she would have to make up a story.
If she were caught, eventually she would be brought before her father, and telling him she had lost the greenleaf would entail a description of the article and consequently an explanation of how she had come by it. These were things she was not overly eager to confide, and so the simplest course of action seemed to remain unseen.
Arwen walked along the way to the nursing ward until she came to the open air corridor that overlooked the gardens where the tree climbing had occurred. Here she paused, and looking out over the lovely plot, she let her guard slowly drop off.
The moon was crescent, and cast the faintest beams of light upon the foliage. The beams were sliced to pieces by the leaves and trees and fell shattered upon the dark ground in a speckled mosaic of luminescence.
It is only through light, however, that there is shadow. It was as though the garden housed two planes of separate and independent existences. One world bloomed exquisitely and burst into color and pattern under the bright light of day.
The second world loomed just on the edge of its brother, visible in its full might when night came. Now it imitated, taking the shapes of the world of light in a flagrant mockery. As the moon waxed overhead, the shadows would weaken, routed from every corner and every nook. Then the moon would vanish, the darkness would renew itself and with brazen vengeance, it would swallow the light.
Frozen mid-battle, the interwoven light and shadow were breathtakingly beautiful; a little seen element of a place where splendor was so rampant it was almost expected in all aspects of life.
'I wish I could show him.' Arwen found herself thinking, absently reaching for the handkerchief in her pocket, but she quickly scolded herself and commanded her thought and hand away. Still, she couldn't help being amazed by the hold he had on her, even now.
Suddenly, her sharp ears caught the slight whisper of breath, and a rustling of leaves. She looked out into the garden, wondering if she would catch a glimpse of the cat in the boughs of the tree.
She saw something move. Arwen leaned over the rail and held out the candle, straining her eyes, but the shadows and thick leaves hid the creature. She saw that it was approaching a break in its thick green shield and sure enough a moment later something rose into view.
"Arwen?" called a voice. Instantly she drew away from the rail and held up the candle, face to face with her father and Glorfindel.
"Adar, Glorfindel." She acknowledged them innocently, desperately trying to hide her shivers as the cool night air penetrated her thin, arguably insubstantial pajamas. Glorfindel immediately averted his eyes.
"Is something wrong, Arwen?" her father asked, looking perplexed.
"No Adar, I wanted to see the Garden." Arwen replied.
"In your under things?" Elrond continued. Glorfindel was blushing madly.
"Well," she thought for a moment, "It was rather an instantaneous decision."
"And would not the sea of gardens outside your balcony suffice?" Arwen said nothing. It occurred to her to wonder why he and Glorfindel were wandering the halls so late, but she knew to ask would make him think she was trying to change the subject, and convince him further that she had something to hide.
"Go to bed, Arwen." Elrond said, exasperated, "We'll talk more in the morning."
"But Excellency, it is the morning." Glorfindel put in, hoping to lighten the mood.
"Indeed, sirrah." Elrond replied dryly, and with that he walked away. Glorfindel shared a grin with Arwen, and then regaining his modesty, quickly diverted his eyes and hurried off after Elrond.
The next morning, however, Elrond was not present at breakfast and he did not send for Arwen. She spent most of the day moping about her room. She did seek out Glorfindel at one point and confided that she had lost a precious piece of jewelry, which accounted for her late night search.
Nothing had been turned in to him, but he promised to ask around and inform her immediately if it, or anything related surfaced.
At one point she walked to the healing wing, all the way up to his door. She was only looking for the greenleaf after all. For a minute or two she stood there, idly searching the floor. If it had been there she probably would have looked past it, but it wasn't, and after a moment she briskly hurried away.
Arwen was sure to be punctual and fully dressed to breakfast the next morning as well. Her father, both of her brothers, Glorfindel, and Erestor all attended as well. Arwen was glad for their company.
It was doubtful her father would lecture her in such a public place, but it had happened before. He had never, however, lectured her alone before her brothers, or any of his advisers and rarely in the presence of Glorfindel.
Everyone at the table stood as Arwen approached and they all sat together. Elrond nodded towards her in acknowledgement. Arwen was relieved to see that he did not seem angry or particularly eloquent this morning.
The talk was lighthearted and easygoing. Once convinced her father would not confront her, Arwen returned to her other musings. Had she thought about it, she would have realized that not eating and ignoring the friendly conversation only made Elrond more worried about her. But she didn't. She had other things to think about.
"Lady Arwen?" Arwen turned to see a servant standing behind her seat. The servant bowed, her dress momentarily sweeping the floor.
"She was discovered wandering the hallways." She said politely, and as Arwen stood to see, the servant pushed a bundle into her arms. Arwen fell back into her seat, shocked.
Small it was, and covered with jet-black fur. Its eyes were hazel colored, and it had a long bushy tail.
"Mrow." It announced loudly enough to draw the attention of most everyone in the hall.
"But she isn't mine." Arwen protested, however the servant was already gone and the cat seemed to disagree. She quickly established herself on Arwen's lap and nudged her arm. It was then that Arwen noticed a card on the creature's collar.
Upon closer examination, she saw that it was just a small folded square of recycled parchment, but clearly printed on the front was her name.
She ignored the attention of the hall and opened it. On the inside was written:
The most amazing things grow on the trees in Rivendell.
She stayed with me yesterday, but now she wants to leave.
I cannot blame her, as I have been downright Orcish to my
guests lately. I hope she can find it in her heart to give me
another chance. I have found that until now I did not appreciate
that every morning, no matter how dark the night, the sun rises.
Her name is Horple.
There was no signature, and no need. A smile curved across Arwen's face, and then she noticed something else. The collar in which the note had been tucked was not a collar, but a very familiar and welcome anklet.
She gently removed the greenleaf and placed it back on her ankle, noting that the latch seemed to be tighter. Arwen laughed gleefully, and startled the sleeping cat by lifting her up and dancing over to the window with her. Arwen yawned suddenly and returned to her father.
"I think I'll go have a small rest father." She said, kissing him on the cheek. Then, her smile no less dazzling, she waltzed off with her unnerved dance partner, Horple.
Meanwhile the entire hall looked on, stunned at the sudden change in the lady's demeanor.
"Amazing Adar. What did you lace that note with?" Elladan asked.
"Yes," Elrohir continued, "And how was the cat unaffected?"
Elrond shook his head. It was one of those rare moments when he didn't know what to think.
"This was not of my doing." He finally acknowledged.
"Arwen just left the hall acting like Elladan does when he sees a girl he hasn't fallen in love with before. There has to be some explanation." Elrohir replied, inciting a dirty look that promised later retribution from his brother.
"Don't worry Adar, you can tell us. Remember when you told us the truth about Arwen's fish going to Valinor? We never told." Elrohir continued, ignoring Elladan.
"I did not confide that in you. The two of you knew the truth because you were the ones who decided to take the fish horseback riding." Elrond reminded them.
The twins blushed and Elladan smiled, noting his chance for revenge,
"I must have forgotten that..." His voice was nostalgic, "Of course that whole thing was Elrohir's idea. I'd never have done a stupid thing like that. Exactly alike, the two of us are. Excepting of course what Elrohir lacks in intelligence."
"Hey!" yelled Elrohir, elbowing his older brother. Elladan coughed and just managed to raise his napkin to his mouth before a piece of his breakfast emerged. He growled and grabbed Elladan's shirt, but the younger twisted free. They faced each other menacingly but before any further contact could be made, Elrond silenced them.
He angrily and swiftly sent them away, one with Glorfindel, the other with Erestor, to expend their plentiful energy helping the two elders with the mundane duties of the day.
The chief adviser left first, following after a sullen Elladan, and giving Elrond a wry smile as he passed.
"You expect that after they surpass the age of 3000 or so, your parenting skills will have become obsolete." Elrond commented in passing.
Erestor smiled, "If that is the current estimate I would consider it optimistic. In any case, you could do with a refreshing of those particular skills. After all, when he arrives, you'll need them."
-end-
Ok guys, I gotta ask for more reviews! Just 3 for chapter 4, and that just makes me sad. I know its partially my fault for slow updates, but if you're reading
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Review! To those who did, thanks so much. You're the reason I keep going.
Officer Budbabe: Hey, thanks for the review. I'm glad you like the story. Here's your update and I hope you still like the story. I have to say your comment made me blush: you're too kind, but thanks!
Karone Evertree: Hey again. I can't tell you how much I appreciate the support. You're the closest thing I have to a regular (: BTW, Did you like Legolas as an entomologist?
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