Unfading Grass
.:MegChes:.
Birthday Poem through Eldarion's eyes
Well, actually, it was a sketch of Kaiga's nostrils, but that wasn't really what I was referring to. What was holding my gaze was another sketch of Min's; it was the profile of Legolas I saw her drawing before. It was finished already, with the shadowing filled in. The only color evident in the portrait was blue, found in the eyes, adding to their intensity. I have to admit, my sister is good.
Anyway, the sketch fell out of the frame of the other sketch Min was holding, and landed on the floor. Before I said another word, I picked it up quickly, crumpled it up, and put it in my pocket.
My parents looked at me with interest. "What was that, Eldarion?" my mother asked.
I thought quickly. "Erm, it's—it's a poem I'm writing."
"A poem?" Min, looked at me incredulously. "You don't write poems!"
That hurt. "Oh yeah? Well, I'm writing one, and," here I straightened, "I will reveal it during the night of Minyaré's birthday party."
My parents looked delighted; my sister, suspicious. Very surprising.
I jerked my head towards the stairs. "Erm. Hey, Min," I said with fake enthusiasm, "Would you like to see this picture I tried to sketch? Of course your drawings would beat mine anytime, but... anyway, it's upstairs," I said, ignoring her disbelieving glances.
"Now?" she whispered. "El, what are you talking about? Since when did you take up drawing?"
Father was growing impatient. "What is going on? Are we going to finish eating dinner, or what?" A growl from his stomach punctuated his question.
Much as I didn't want to go against father's commands, especially when he was still hungry, I continued, "It'll only take a minute. It's really important." I pulled Minyaré to her knees and up the stairs before Father could detain us.
I practically ran right through my door, with barely any time to open it. When we got inside, Min twisted her arm out of my grasp.
"Okay, El, you're acting really weird. Please explain what is going on! And make it quick, I have to get those sketches from mother's clutches, she'll ruin everything! How could Nurithil do that! I trusted her! I—" I cut her off.
"Look, I have your sketch of Legolas." I gave her the crumpled piece of paper, which I had tried to smooth out to the best of my ability. "Um, it fell on the ground, and I didn't want anyone to see it, so yeah. And I am going to write a poem for you." I added, as if that would have made things all right.
She tentatively reached for the sketch. Mournfully, she lifted it up with both of her hands, as if it was a piece of antiquated paper about to crumble into pieces. Then, almost religiously, she slowly placed the piece of paper on my bed, sniffing all the time. It almost made me cry. Almost.
"You...crumpled...up...my...drawing?" She heaved a great sob after every word. It was agonizing. drawing?" She drew her hands into fists, which made me nervous as heck.
I put up my hands as a gesture of comfort, but I'm sure it looked like I was surrendering. "Look, Min, I was just trying to keep your secret safe!" I pleaded. I almost fell to my knees, practically. "Look, I'll make it up to you, okay? I don't know how, but I will! Please, don't cry, don't cry!"
She glared daggers at me. "What secret?!" She spat out. "I don't have a secret! I would feel just as bad if you crumpled any one of my other drawings! I didn't want them to see any of my drawings, understand? And now that they have, what difference would this one drawing have made? And now you've ruined it!" She stalked off to her room, leaving her drawing on my bed.
"Tell me, Min!" I yelled at her back. "Tell me what I've ruined!" I yelled again, this time at her closed door. It was no use, of course. Min could hold a grudge for weeks. It made me feel like crap every single time, though.
Anyway, I sat there for what seemed like hours, although it was probably only a few minutes, thinking about my miserable life, when I felt someone step into the room. I looked up; lo and behold, there was Nurithil. The person who started all this.
"Oh, looked who finally showed up." I muttered with biting sarcasm. At least that was probably what it sounded like to her. "Come to say you're sorry? Well, save it for some other time, okay?" Man, I was really feeling cruddy.
She frowned. "Look, if you really want to know—"
"I don't want to know," I cut in.
"If you really want to know," she repeated, "I did come to say I was sorry..."
I rolled my eyes.
"To Minyaré. I came to ask you first what all the yelling was about."
I laughed bitterly. Yeah, I was really depressed. "Oh, so you're an eavesdropper too."
"Look, I didn't know that Minyaré didn't want her picture shown. I just thought I was doing her a favor!"
"Well, some favor you did her...and me."
"In fact, I'm going to say sorry to her right now, since you refuse to listen to me."
"Fine, go right ahead." I turned my back on her.
Next thing I know, the door slammed shut. I instantly felt remorseful, especially since Nurithil and I were becoming...well, we were becoming friends, sort of. And now I had ruined it. I'd ruined everything.
"Dude, what is your problem!" I yelled at the ceiling. I smacked myself on the head, fell face down on my bed...and I started to think about that poem.
Apology Accepted through Min's eyes
A knock came from my door. I was flopped down on my bed, angry tears dripping down my cheeks. I don't know why I always got so emotional when it came to ruined artwork- it just happened. I was clenching my fists so tight that the nails dug right into my skin. I pressed even harder, and bit my lip.
"Go away Eldarion!" I yelled. "Just...go....away."
"Lady Minyaré? It's me, Nurithil. Please open the door." I heard another soft, tentative knock.
I groaned. I hated intruders. Always popping in, never giving me a moment's peace. "Why'd you have to do that, Nurithil? You know me when it comes to my artwork. When it comes to my private artwork." I sniffed, and I also stopped crying. Geez, Min, get a grip on yourself.
"Please, my lady, just open the door." Her voice was soft but firm. Sighing, I stood up and succumbed to her wish.
Nurithil came in quickly, without a word, without a glance. Brushing my shoulder, she walked past me and sat down on the bed, sighing. "My lady, I didn't know this would...offend you so deeply. You have a rare, beautiful talent in your hands, and...I thought it would please you to expose it."
I snorted. "When the time comes. On my birthday is not that time. Plus those are my private pictures, Nurithil. You know what 'private' means? It's like someone's diary. Now I'm not a writer, but I am an artist. Those sketches were like diary entries- how would you like to have your private diary entries framed for the public to see?" I slapped my forehead in frustration, plopping down on the bed beside my handmaiden.
"Um...Kaiga's nostrils are private?" Nurithil asked jestingly.
"Yes," I retorted. "People would laugh at me if they found out I took the time drawing and shading a horse's nostrils. But don't blame me, I was bored that day, and my sibs were hogging all the steeds. And Eldarion hogged Kaiga for too long."
Nurithil gave another sigh, this time more laborious. I immediately regretted having spoken to her so harshly. I knew she didn't mean for things to end up so badly. Why did I have to be so emotional? Taking a deep breath, I leaned forward and locked Nurithil in an embrace. Kind of surprised, she hesitantly returned it.
"If you want, my lady...I could take back the sketches..."
"You don't have to," I interrupted, pulling back. Wow. I never thought I'd say this in a million years. "It's okay. I was just acting really immature. Really, that was a terrific idea. I shouldn't have been so sensitive. Maybe when people see the drawings, people will want their portraits done or something and I can earn money to buy something really big." A clear, sharp image of a Galadrim Bow 2000 shot in my head.
"Are you sure, my lady?" she asked. She looked like she was going to burst into tears any moment.
"Yeah." I gestured for her to stand up. "Go. It's all right. Forget any of this happened."
Nurithil gave a teary smile, and turned to leave. She stopped in her footsteps, remembering something. "Oh, and I suggest you talk with your brother...he seems...stressed." She turned and left, actually remembering to close the door of my haven behind her. A sad, sinking feeling flooded my body.
"Aw man, I must have really hurt Eldarion this time," I murmured under my breath. I thought about what he said. I denied that I had a 'secret'. Wait. Did I have one? I rubbed my temples in confusion. Man, it was way too late. Sleepiness and languor was overtaking my body. I needed to apologize for my harsh, rude words.
Quietly, I opened the door, and stepped outside into the dark hallway. The only light provided was the dark rays of the luminous moon. The light cast eerie patterns along the dark wooded floor. Silently, I shut my door and crept down the corridor, making for my brother's bedroom, directly across from mine, because our bedrooms were on both ends of the hallway. As soon as I got to my destination, I raised my hand to knock.
"Eldarion?" I heard a scramble and a sound of stuff being thrown around in the bedroom. What was he up to now? I knocked again. The door was opened to me. There was my brother, all bedraggled, and the same as ever. I raised an eyebrow in pure interest. "What were you doing?" I asked, stepping into his room.
"Nothing." The typical answer.
I decided to get straight to business. "Look, Eldarion, I'm sorry for screaming at you." I paused, forgetting the words I had rehearsed in my head. "I-I-" I stammered.
"It's okay," Eldarion assured. "I forgive you." He took my drawing of Legolas from his desk. He flattened it somehow, so it was almost as good as new- the only giveaways were the light creases on the parchment where it had been crumpled. Why did I make such a big deal out of crumpled artwork? At least it wasn't ripped. "Here. I used the dough roller from the kitchen headquarters to try and straighten your picture out...it was the best I could do." He extended his hand.
I took the picture, folded it neatly, and pocketed it. "Thanks...I appreciate it." I racked my head for something to talk about, to distract me from this painful topic. But sleep was conquering. I found myself literally swaying, and I grasped Eldarion's table for support to steady myself.
"Whoah. Min. You okay?" I softened to see the concerned look in his eyes.
"Yeah...I better be getting to bed. See ya." With a wave of my hand, I exited his room, pleased with the way things went. I stumbled down the dark hallway.
I gave a loud shriek as I tripped over something on the floor. "What on Middle Earth-" I got down to my knees to inspect the obstacle. It was Neveriniel, clutching her Teddy Orc. "Thunderstorms," she moaned. "I'm scared!" I heard a bolt shoot down from the sky, and my little sister cringed, pulling the stuffed toy closer to her chest. "I've been waiting for you," she muttered innocently. "Or Eldarion." I marveled how she depended so much on me or Eldarion besides her other older siblings.
I reached out and picked up her frail figure in my arms. I held her close, and began to enter my bedroom. Suddenly, I felt something slimy against my back. I yelled, and dropped Neveriniel, who began laughing wildly as she made her desperate escape.
She had dropped a worm down my back. What a jerk- I couldn't believe how gullible I was.
I gave a loud growl, which sent my little sister running even faster.
More Preparations through Min's eyes
It was harder than it looked. Much harder. Groaning painfully, I tried to aim the tip of the arrow to the small gray cloth, fluttering simply in the breeze. My hand was literally shaking with nervousness. It had always been my dream, besides being successful with drawing, to be a great, feared female archer. My most recent pictures were now of me, holding a Galadrim Bow 2000, and my arrow blasting an orc's head off. Right now, the dream didn't seem likely to come true. We've had two lessons already now, and this was our third one. And sure enough, my gray target shrunk a little bit each time.
"Remember what I told you," Legolas urged, his hand over mine, helping me position it. "Relax. Don't be so tense. Pull the feathers just slightly past your mouth, and aim a little below the center of the target." I released the arrow, and it whizzed through the air, missing the cloth by inches.
The sensitive person I was, I gave a scream of exasperation and stomped my foot in the dirt. "Legolas, it's hopeless. I'm not good at it. I'll never be good at anything." I paused, a little disgusted with how pathetic and self pitiful I sounded. Even Legolas, the great archer he is, had to start somewhere. He was probably terrible too, but as he kept practicing, his skills improved. I blushed, embarrassed with how immature I sounded.
Legolas simply smiled- not mocking, but encouraging. "Here." I gave the bow to him, ready for some majestic demonstration. I longed to start shooting some professional tricks, like two or four arrows whizzing through the air in unison, each one hitting the target and splitting each other straight in half- one after the other. But if I couldn't target this, how much more horrible would I be at such marvelous doings? I stood back, aghast as he pulled back the string, and aimed.
My mind flew, and my heart beat faster. I marveled at how calm he always looked, no matter what was going on around him. What a skill it was, to be able to hide your feelings so well. I imagined him, the way he was now- with golden hair slightly blowing in the breeze, bow in hand, twin blades at his side, eyes twinkling with an indiscernible emotion, nothing but a proud grin on his flawless, alabaster face. I imagined him this way, in the middle of a loud, gory battle, with people's heads being torn off, limbs being broken, swords slitting through hearts. Wow.
It was all too fast. While my mind was wandering off, and while my super calm instructor was giving instructions, the arrow had pierced the very strings of the fabric, dead center. Did it even happen? It was all a blur. I shook my head, shaking my distracting thoughts away. My fingers twitched, and I knew I was once again inspired to draw someone.
"If it helps," Legolas continued, placing the bow back in my hands, "take deep breaths to clear your mind before you shoot. Before you know it, you won't have to do it any more- nerve and concentration is all it takes. It will come naturally after time." He picked a fairly sharp arrow from my lot and handed it to me, feathers first. I nodded, and gulped nervously. I gripped the arrow between my fingers in the way he had taught me how, and I aimed. "You can do this," he assured. "Close your eyes, and breathe evenly. No thalion. Be strong"
I closed my eyes. I breathed evenly. My fingers quavered slightly, and I relaxed my hand just a little. After some time, I opened my eyes, and steered my concentration to the heart of the fluttering cloth. Die, cloth, I thought to myself, sniggering. I released the arrow.
It flew in a slender route, and ripped the cloth down the branch.
"Well done," Legolas laughed. "I knew you could do it. You're the persistent one." That was all it took to make me blush with pride once again. Before I walked in, I gave him another folded scrap of paper. 'Directions to drawing and shading Imbequesse. Imbequesse holding her eyelash curler will be coming after you give me my next lesson.'
Once I saw the hairbrush, I ran away screaming.
"Nurithil's attacking me!! Ai! Thau nin! Lasto pen nin! Yikes! Help me! Someone hear me!" I yelled, leaping through the halls of the palace, my fright giving deft wings to my feet. There's this rumor that every elf treats his or her hair with just as much care as taking care of a baby. Uh- so not true. Anyway, I was half human, so it didn't really matter. As I ran, I fingered my dark locks. They were tangled, as usual. I would always fall asleep in bed, forgetting to undo the braids, thus resulting in intricate mazes matted hair the next morning.
"Yes I can hear you," Erhothien yelled from her bedroom, her melodious voice carrying itself through her door, which was ajar. I heard the mad flipping of pages in her book. "If you are going to blast people's eardrums off, at least use the right vocabulary. It's 'chase', Minyaré, not 'attack'. If your handmaiden bore a deathly sword or spear in her hand, then it would be proper." More flipping of pages. "Geez. You exaggerate such minor things too much."
I ignored her. On I ran. "Get out of the way Neverin!" I yelled to my little sister, who was playing with her dolls in the middle of one corridor.
"Can we play Warhorse again?" she asked, standing up and obediently pressing herself against the wall to let me pass. I heard Nurithil panting behind me, struggling to keep up.
"Not today, Neverin. I'm busy."
"Okay, but next time I wanna be Eowyn again!"
I turned a corner, and ran smack into Eldarion. Before I had any time to react, he held me in his arms, my face thrust into his chest. He clutched me hard, as if he was trying to suck all the breath out of me.
"Great job, Eldarion," I heard Nurithil compliment behind me.
"Eldarion! You were plotting against me?! You're with Nurithil on brushing my hair?!" I exploded in anger. My voice came out muffled, so they understood nothing I said.
"You're welcome," I heard Eldarion say smugly. "Hold still, little sister. Today's your birthday, and we're actually doing you a huge favor." I felt his fingers run through my hair.
"Ow," I screeched, as it tugged against a tangle. "That hurt!"
"I'll handle the victim from here, thank you very much, your grace," Nurithil chuckled, pinching the fabric of my sleeve between her fingers. "Come now, my lady. You can't come to your party looking like...like...seaweed," she ended finally, for the lack of something to say. I gasped in shock. Nurithil gave a tug, and against my will, I was trailing after her, like a prisoner being sent back into its cell after a desperate escape. I glared over my shoulder at Eldarion, who blew me a kiss in return.
I found myself in front of a ceiling to floor mirror. And for two agonizing hours, I gave an occasional yelp of agony as the bristles of the brush tugged at my tresses. My scalp burned. My strands were the trees, and the brush was the wildfire, tearing through the forest like mad, hurting everything in its way. The process was painful, but according the all-knowing Nurithil, 'it would do me good'.
I did not look normal. I saw a reflection of a tall girl, in a long maroon and white dress. I would usually just throw on some shaggy gown lying around in my closet. Nurithil considered black, but black did not look good on me. It was only proper when I was in mourning for lost drawings and sketches. In my reflection, I saw rosy cheeks that stayed rosy after two minutes- which only happens when someone rips my drawings in eyeshot. Nurithil had borrowed some beauty equipment from my older sisters, and did some more horrifying things to 'do me good'. On my the reflection's head was a tiara of jewels, twinkling brightly as if there was some hidden life within. The reflection stared back at me with wide, fearful sapphire eyes.
"Whoah. Dude, what...did...you...do..." I ran my finger through my hair, expecting to run into a tangle. Instead, it came cleanly out the other end.
"Alae! Ah! You look beautiful, darling," Nurithil cooed. Whoah. Only my mom says 'darling'. Nurithil glanced at her watch. "Oh, sorry. I have to leave, there's this turkey I'm attending to, you know, for the grand feast and all." She held up a finger to lecture me. "Don't go horseback riding in your good dress, and don't mess up your hair. Whatever you do, just...just don't do anything, okay?" She flashed me a wink, and rushed out the door.
Ick. Ick, ick, ick. Wasn't it enough that I was showing my sketches to the public- sketches which belonged in the privacy of the cozy place under my bed? I stared at my hair, and began to tear the neat little braids out, trying to get it back to normal.
"Oh my gosh Min! I never knew you had someone gorgeous in there!" To my horror, Imbequesse came bursting in the room, looking all glamorous herself. She touched my dress and did a weird clicking sound with her tongue. "That Nurithil- that Nurithil, she has good taste," Imbequesse dragged on, her voice all high and pitchy as if she were referring to food instead of her sister. She saw what I had done to my hair, and she did that weird clicking sound again. "Don't tie your hair back in braids, Min. First of all, it's an old look, and it's not your look. Second of all, it's good to be original. Just let it down." With gentle fingers, she undid the braids, and tresses collapsed. She patted my hair. "There. See? That's all it takes." She patted my hair again, and linked her arm around mine. "Come on, you don't want to be late to your own celebration, do you?" I winced in disgust, as the fragrance of her strong perfume wafted in my nostrils.
"Wait- I forgot my sketch book!" I held back, but Imbequesse slapped my arm.
"And leave that blasted book behind," she growled through clenched teeth.
.:Reviews greatly appreciated!!!!!:.
