Chapter seven: The Secret Garden
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Niphrediel opened her eyes to the sound of a flute playing in the near distance.
She couldn't see where it was coming from or where she was but it was muffled, a reasonable distance away. If she was indoors then perhaps it was coming from outside her window, if there was one.
The numb feeling that contaminated her body began to slowly die away
She slowly opened her eyes, blinded at first from the light shining within the room.
She was indoors, as she had thought.
Niphrediel's sight adjusted and she saw she was staring up at the roof. "Hello?" She asked, her voice coarse from its misuse when she was screaming and shouting the many times the last time she was awake. She turned her head to the right, turning to see an elleth, a healer judging by her garb, crushing some herbs with a thick marble pestle against the bottom of the marble bowl in which the herbs lay inside on a silver desk a couple metres from the bed where Niphrediel lay.
The room she lay inside was bright and opened up by two walls on either sides of Niphrediel that was lined with silver French windows all opened with their lacy curtains hanging on the doors swaying in the soft breeze and large shelves hanging over the edge of the opened windows like bowls with a mixture of herbs, flowers, weeds and other assorted plants that could be used in healing. The wall opposite where Niphrediel lay was lined with silver-framed oil paintings and tapestries rich with colours against the pearl shade of the wall they hung upon with a large, wooden double door in the very centre with soft white stools on either side and there was a line of pillars two metres from the wall, spanning up twenty feet to the arched roof. Lastly was the wall the Niphrediel's plain white single bed was up against. The wall and the other opposite it were the longer two of the four walls and there were two other identical beds evenly and spaciously placed against the wall with a headstand and chair on each left side of each bed. There was lastly a large mirror in between two French windows on the left wall, of which reflection the identical wall opposite it, making the frame look empty save the shine radiating off the glass.
Niphrediel's eyes looked over the desk the elleth worked upon. The silver desk was large and long with all the tools a healer would need for making ointments and such placed strategically on it amongst bowls of seeds, crushed various weeds and two small china bowls of honey and sugar with silver spoons dipped in them ready to be used, and Niphrediel noticed a bowl of ripe and juicy lemons. Of course there was much Niphrediel didn't even bother trying to identify after she spotted the row of elegantly shaped glass carafes of assorted liquids. The elleth only seemed to occupy one end of the table, crushing herbs and seeds contently, whilst reading from a large book open on the table, the pages at its middle point.
The elleth was tall and fair without scars and without any signs of age. Her hair was a chestnut brown that cascaded like dark gold straight down her back down just passed her bottom. She was dressed in a simple white dress with lace embroidered into the rim of the rounded neckline and down her back. But, though, the most startling feature of the elleth was undoubtedly her lagoon blue eyes that looked like small glass windows that looked through to a pool of water on the other side.
Oh what a relief it was to see an elf that was not Legolas, of course Niphrediel meant that without any hard feelings.
Niphrediel sat up on her bed, making the healer look up from her work. She gave a modest smile, her eyes sparkling as if they had little stars within them that reminded Niphrediel so much of her naneth. "You have awoken!" She declared with a smile, putting the pestle down and standing up straighter, taking her left hand in her right as she smiled at Niphrediel.
Niphrediel nodded, looking about the room again. "Where I am I?" She asked, her voice husky and quiet. Niphrediel had strained her voice and knew that though it sounded as if her throat was phlegmy, no amount of coughing would help.
The elleth smiled, gesturing with a simple wave of her long hand. "You have reached the land of Lorien. You were brought here this morning." She said, and took a small carafe of what looked like water and picked up a silver cup before filling it up with the water to a point just before the middle. "What is your name?" She asked, making conversation as she worked.
Niphrediel contently stared, watching the healer move her hands around with confidence and familiarity to everything that was there as she edged slightly to the side and placed a lemon from the lemon bowl onto the wooden chopping board and cut it in half with a clean knife.
"Niphrediel." She answered, watching the elleth squeeze juice out of the lemon halves into the cup.
"My name is Maranwé." Said the healer, glancing at Niphrediel with a smile before she put a teaspoon of honey into the cup and Niphrediel watched the clump sink down to the bottom and Maranwé picked up a tiny container of what looked like white power and carefully put half a teaspoon of it into the cup and mixed it around. Niphrediel watched the honey blob at the bottom of the cup begin to dissolve making the water yellow, and Maranwé then began to make her way silently over to Niphrediel's bed and handed her the cup.
"Here," She said. "Drink this. It will help sooth your throat."
Niphrediel nodded, and took the cup in her hands and sculled it down, not having the patience to sip it as she watched Maranwé sit down on the side of the bed and slowly peeled back the covers to check on Niphrediel's leg.
Niphrediel quickly made sure the skirt of the nightie she was dressed in was pulled down just in time before Maranwé pulled the white covers back and gently guided Niphrediel's leg out of it so that she could see it properly.
She had been changed into a light cloth nightie with pretty, thick straps of entwined lace, but otherwise not much else that caught her eye. It was overly long, probably meant for someone much taller. It was pretty, though, and a modest girl's worst nightmare if she was wearing it and it began to rain. The only thing she wore that was hers was her silver whistle still hanging sturdily on the silver chain around her neck.
Niphrediel frowned, looking at her leg that she had totally forgotten about wounding. Her left leg was totally bandaged from her shin to her ankle and around her heel just to keep it in place. Her entire shin was layered in strips of white cloth placed over sponges buttered with ointment over leaves draped over her wounded flesh.
Maranwé smiled. "This ointment is the best of its kind. Your muscle tissue has healed abnormally well even with our treatment, though it's very tender. We cleansed all your wounds and scratches when you first came in, but I would suggest you taking another bath either tonight or in the morning." She said, taking Niphrediel's empty cup. "I would suggest not getting up, but if you do it would be best for you to not put too much weight on it, and by too much weight I only mean hopping on it and standing on one leg of course. I should think it would begin to hurt rather quickly if you did." She smiled then, and put the cup on a nearby end table on top of a silver tray to make it more convenient to be carried away by the maid that would eventually come.
Maranwé seemed to hesitate to return to her work at the table, instead turning back to look at her. "I think I will leave you alone for now," She said. "And allow you to look around, as I am sure you would like to see your friends. I shall be back to check your wound and change the dressing, until then, namarië." She said, turning around, but turned back around when something came to mind. "Actually, I shall give you something to do, if you are up to it. There is an orchid to the south of the gardens; quite beautiful, they are, and there are little pink blossoms on the trees. If you have time, pick about twenty blossoms and bring them back to me at the end of the day so I can make a paste for your leg to clean it. Do not worry if you do not get up to it, I'll do it myself later." She curtsied and made her way out the door silently.
She was graceful, even for an elf. Her steps went placidly as if she could walk on clouds. Niphrediel giggled. She probably could!
Niphrediel smiled and waited until the door was closed before she swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up. It was surprisingly easy; Niphrediel must have been given something for the pain, as her leg was numb to the touch, yet it could still be walked upon as if there had been no harm done as long as she kept a reasonable pace and took shorter steps. She did not have to limb, which was a surprise.
Lorien must have had different herbs to create such grand effects so quickly.
Niphrediel stood up and walked to the mirror; anxious to see what mess she had turned herself into this time. She remembered absently that she had been washed, so she took away her visions of dirt and skin stains from the picture she was expecting to see.
The bruise received to her head…. wow, it was dark. Luckily, there were no red patches so it would hopefully fade a little quicker, and the darker part of the bruise was concealed by her hairline. Her arms received little cuts only from her elbow down that now were only thin strips of dried blood, so all was well, and the bruises were already fading. Her chest, though, was clear; except that the bruise on her breast was so large the neckline of the nightie wasn't high enough to cover the fading edges of it at the top. Her premonitions of the result of having Legolas drag her along through Moria were proven to be correct, confirmed by the light, but obvious, bruising around her left wrist. Her hair, though, was washed and fell straight back down her back. Niphrediel felt like cheering when she smelt a tress, confirming she no longer stunk of dog but a jasmine-based soap of sorts.
Niphrediel looked beaten up, though, to any whom she would pass that did know how worse she could have come out looking.
Niphrediel frowned, thinking for a moment and put up a hand and smelt her breath. Her teeth had been brushed too, very convenient if not very uncomfortable.
Niphrediel frowned at her arms as she took a couple steps back to see if the scratches were obvious from the little distance, again the vain side of her influenced by Gilraen and Ivanneth came out to say hello.
Niphrediel sighed, giving up in frustration. "It doesn't matter!" She moaned to herself, frustrated for caring. "You're surrounded by elves, they can see everything!"
But, despite herself, Niphrediel spread her hair around her shoulders and framing her face and such to make the dark fade out slightly. Though, of course, being as pale as she was, she could make a dull grey dress look bright.
Niphrediel shrugged and walked out of the infirmary, opening the door to behold the evening daylight—wait a minute, DAYLIGHT?!
Niphrediel gasped, readying for the burn, and when it did not come it made her frown. She looked up to the sky, the brightness tarnished to shine only between the leaves of the treetops.
So that's how! Niphrediel thought and laughed. The trees prevent the sun from shinning down! Just like the willow tree she, Aragorn and Glorfindel ate lunch under in Imladris.
Niphrediel smiled, lifting her head to the sky and taking a big whiff of late-day outside-air, if there was such a thing.
Niphrediel then lowered her head, taking in the other things around her. She stood on a white, large porch that overlooked a small glade of grass bellow, three feet or so down. White, wooden steps were placed at the middle front of the porch leading to the grass bellow shrouded by beautiful flowers in full bloom.
Niphrediel then moved up, looking at the great trees based as the foundation of the city known as Caras Galadhon. The city was built like a silver haven amongst the trees assessable by walking across bridges to other trees and climbing up the silver staircases that wrapped around the trunk of the gigantic "plants".
The trees themselves held more beauty then Niphredil imagined they would ever have. They were undoubtedly the largest trees in the entire world, with huge branches that reached out to embrace each off the other trees beside them. Perhaps they were all brothers and sisters, Niphrediel thought warmly. The trees were clothed in silver bark that seemed to make the trees look almost man-made if not for the lovely golden leaves that bloomed without knowledge of any season springing from the branches obviously inartificial.
Niphrediel slowly walked down the steps of the porch, one hand on the white railing to help her along with each step.
She finally began to walk upon the soft green grass, her bare feet hidden from view by the incredibly long nightie that gently dragged against the grass behind her.
Niphrediel frowned, looking down at the seemingly hundreds of yellow flowers around her, and picked one up, looking at it.
So familiar, she thought, taking in the sweet scent of the petals, opening her eyes to the sounds of voices dancing across her memory triggered by the all-too familiar smell.
"Mother, what is your favourite flower?" It was the childhood Neph. Niphrediel recognised her voice immediately.
"A beautiful yellow flower, Nieninquë. It's called elanor." Gilraen replied solemnly.
Niphrediel remembered when she asked that. She remembered how disappointed she was at Gilraen's answer. Her favourite flower was not supposed to be elanor. Gilraen's favourite flower was supposed to be the pale niphredil, the snowdrop. The snowdrop, not the sunstar.
Niphrediel remembered that she figured that Gilraen had just made a little error. Perhaps she had forgotten, she thought, and throughout a few years she asked the question repeatedly. Her heart became heavy every time Gilraen gave the same answer. Over and over and over: 'Elanor', 'Elanor', 'Elanor', 'Elanor'.
Ever since the beginning of Niphrediel damaged memory, Gilraen had carried the gentle scent of these flowers. Even in her tomb, the stone room contaminated by death was filled with the smell of these blossoms. Some memories Niphrediel wished not to remember.
The elanor was the flower of her mother. Bright, warm and beautiful. Perhaps Gilraen lived among the blossoms, helping them grow…. or perhaps not, though now that she thought about it, Gilraen's answer was possibly the better between it and the answer Niphrediel wanted.
Niphrediel slowly sat down, placing her legs beside her, and just stared at the flower in her hands. Naturally, she stopped when she felt tears coming to her eyes, not really wanting to go back to that again regardless how much Niphrediel knew she missed her mother.
Niphrediel took a deep breath, calming herself down, closing her eyes for a moment to help her eyes loose its watery moisture.
Her head turned at the sound of a bark and Niphrediel watched Beren running towards her from what looked like steps that were built into the earth, of which Niphrediel could not see, cutting off this small yard Niphrediel sat upon as if the yard, itself, was a porch with steps that lead somewhere downwards.
Niphrediel smiled at the wolf as he ran over, immediately snuggling down beside her, licking her hand as if he hadn't seen her in years.
Niphrediel looked down at him as he rested, daydreaming perhaps. Her hand drew away from the flower, letting it go, and Niphrediel watched the yellow blossom almost float to the ground as her hand moved into the clean neck of her four-legged friend.
Beren's pelt seemed to shine like a white star. His eyes sparkled from within, radiating his happiness and rekindled joy that she had not been able to notice under the shadows of Moria's roof.
Niphrediel bent down and kissed Beren's neck, before she looked to where Beren had come from, seeing Estel slowly coming up. A frown came to her face. She had still not forgiven him on his words he had spoken in the cave, but she knew she would forget, and that both of them had too much pride to bring it up yet both would dwell on it. It was their way, unfortunately.
Aragorn gave Niphrediel what Niphrediel would have thought as the largest smile he could manage. It was as if Niphrediel could see the weight pounding on Estel's shoulders. She could see the fear and anxiety hidden through his strong façade.
Niphrediel's eyes narrowed, she took a deep breath, and said nothing.
The silence dragged on like a big, boring book, regardless how long you read there was always another page after it to take the place of the last.
Aragorn sighed the sound flamboyant against the humming of birds flitting in the air and the sound of Beren's peaceful breathing. "How is your leg?" He asked; his voice etched in care.
Niphrediel remembered her leg and looking down to it, or, rather, the area of skirt where her leg would be underneath the layer. "Numb, at the moment," she answered, her hand patting her ankle lightly enough to not be noticed even if it were not in its unfeeling state. "Of which I am grateful." She added.
Aragorn nodded and slowly made her way over and sat down, that was when Niphrediel noticed he carried her bag.
"I brought this for you," He said, passing her, her bag. "All your material things were to be washed so all that is in this are your books."
Niphrediel's eyes widened, my journal! She almost snatched the bag back. "Did you read anything?" She asked, anxiously.
Aragorn shook his head, which made Niphrediel sigh, relieved. "Good." She sighed, letting out her deep breath, though she knew Aragorn would not have read her private things. He was the one who gave her the empty book in the first place so he would have recognised it as something Niphrediel would not have wanted anyone to read through.
It seemed this action had taken away the tense air around the siblings, both now more relaxed then before.
Niphrediel sighed, looking around at the flowers with an intensely pensive stare that Aragorn noticed. He glanced at where she looked, and seemed to know of whom she thought of. "Elanor." He said, referring to the flower.
Niphrediel nodded. "Mother's favourite flower." She said, letting out a quiet sigh as she said the words.
Aragorn raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.
Niphrediel turned her head to him, her brows high in excitement. "What is your favourite flower?"
Aragorn refrained from saying elanor, regardless that that was his truthful answer. He did not want to hurt Niphrediel, though he would not baby her by giving her the answer she was hoping for to cause her untruthfully given joy.
"I do not have one, I must say." Said Aragorn; surprised that Niphrediel seemed content with that answer. "And what if your favourite flower, sister?"
Niphrediel was obviously surprised to become the victim of her own question. She shrugged. "I don't know. It would be entertaining for me to say the niphredil, but I have not seen it before so hence my hesitation." Niphrediel shrugged, again. "Ask me one day when I have seen more of the petalled-kind to name. Okay?"
Estel nodded, and reached out and put his hand over Niphrediel's, giving it a warm squeeze.
Niphrediel cringed as she continued to breath in the scent of her mother which became harder and harder to handle with each breath.
Aragorn sighed, nodding, also smelling the essence of Gilraen though he was stronger then Niphrediel, his face pained though not in a state of tears, he lifted up his arms and Niphrediel moved over, which startled Beren at her side for a moment.
Niphrediel made her way to her brother, sitting down as he held her topper half in his arms, her head against his shoulder.
"Amin naini ten', vithel." *I lament for her, also* He whispered gently for her to hear, hopefully give her comfort.
He looked down, once reminded of how young the child was. An innocent victim, in all ends, caught inside the aftermath of their mother's death like a ship lost in a never-ending sea. Gilraen had died years ago, but the pain was inside them both and could always be brought back. The misery would remain forever, though it would just become less evident as years would eventually pass.
Niphrediel didn't wipe her tears away from her eyes, for there were none. She was not going to let Aragorn see her cry. Not ever.
Her face felt so much better since she had gone into the cave. Being away from no sun whatsoever helped immensely from the pain she had experienced on the way there. Being underground helped a lot, and Niphrediel hoped that effects would last long if not permanently.
Estel looked around, noticing the bag and reached out a hand, while his spare arm cradled the girl, and pulled out 'The Nightingale' of which he had not read to her for many a year now, and he turned the first page, feeling warmth on his left as Beren came closer and lay down against him as if to be able to listen to him also.
Aragorn simply smiled at the wolf and began to read to two listeners. He only read the poem at the back, one that made the tears stop. It was a beautiful poem, spoken rather then read.
He took a deep breath before he started.
"Ma cenilye Anar acala,
Ma hlarilye filit alire,
Íre tuile tule ara le?
Anar lauca, haire filit-ómar,
Laica salque arwa venya holmeo
Fanyar luini hellesse, en!
Vanye, vanye lóti linquilie
Ma cenilye alda atyulta
Ma hlarilye súre asúya
Íre i vinya lúme sinome sí?
Heldasse aldaron vanwa, súre mi olwar
Queni mótar titte latinassen
Helca ar lauca vilya, rossi, rossi
Caline auri, elene lómi tulir
Ma cenilye hína atyale
Ma hlarilye hína alala
Ar ma amorta órelya?
Híni mallessen, vendi, seldor
Celvar, olvar, atani nostar, ela!
Linte rámar, vanye lossi, calime hendi
Vanima, vanima, vanima, vanima."
Niphrediel sighed, sat up and sniffed.
Aragorn handed her the book and she took it slowly, taking her time as her eyes gazed upon the age-worn cover. She brushed her hand against the front cover, feeling the roughness with a smile on her face, before she put it back in the bag.
Niphrediel looked at where the bag was, with a slight frown. "Do you think I will be able to leave it here? I wish to see the others."
Aragorn nodded, standing up. "Aye, no one will take it. The maids already know it is yours, so if one were to pick it up then they would just put it back in the infirmary." He bent over and put his arms under Niphrediel's as if he where to hug her, and picked her up, getting her to her feet.
Niphrediel nodded in thanks for his assistance whilst brushing off the loose grass and flowers on the back of her dress. "Are you going to come see them with me?" She asked, not really minding if he did or not.
Aragorn shook his head. "I am still awfully tired, and since I know I will not be getting a full-nights-rest for quite a while I best give myself some while I have the opportunity." He said, taking both her hands in both of his and bringing them up together where he kissed them both once.
Niphrediel nodded as her brother guided her hands back to her sides and slowly began to walk off. "Very well, I'll see you later." She said, and Estel gave her a nod and brief wave.
Niphrediel looked down at Beren, who was slowly returning to his feet. "Where are they, Beren?" She asked, beginning to walk off in direction for the steps that both Beren and Aragorn had walked up to get to her.
She stood on the first stone step, indeed built into the hearth of what seemed like a blunt hill. Under and around the steps where blossoms and plants of different colours astoundingly bright and all in full bloom regardless of whatever season the world was outside. The steps went down in a slight curve to a hollow where it seemed the rest of the fellowship were. They were all making beds for themselves under the roof of a silver gazebo held up by silver columns and the like. There was another plain of stairs that led to a deeper hollow. A tree prevented Niphrediel from seeing what was in there, but she really didn't bother to pay attention to it so it didn't matter.
Niphrediel cautiously steps from one step to the next; looking to the company in between each step to make sure they hadn't gone anywhere.
The fourth time she lifted her head, she saw Pippin's head move up in her direction. "Niphredili's awake!" He yelled, over to the rest of company who continued to sought out their sleeping situations.
Boromir walked out from inside the gazebo, his shield left inside, and waved at Niphrediel with a smile that seemed forced and looked through sad eyes that looked almost rivering. He was happy to see the girl was safe, though. His sadness had nothing to do with her.
"Hello, child!" He said, his voice succeeding in seeming joyful. He watched the girl taking her slow steps, having to put to feet down one after the other on each step like an infant still learning to walk.
Niphrediel knew Beren was getting a little frustrated at her currant speed, but she wasn't going to go any faster. She was probably going too fast under her situation, rather then slower. Regardless of that thought, she was relieved when Boromir jogged up the stairs and put an arm under her left one, around her back, and carried her the rest of the way down.
Niphrediel smiled in thanks when he settled her back on the ground. She was no feather, but Boromir carried her more then easily enough. She was not much compared to other things he's had to carry before.
Frodo and Sam put their things down for a moment to greet Niphrediel, as did the other two hobbits. "Are you all right?" They all asked, unfortunately not simultaneously so it sounded like a mass of the same words jumbled up by four voices.
Niphrediel nodded.
"Ah, you are a tough one." Said Boromir, as he looked at the bruise on her head. "Let's hope it wont take too long to heal."
Niphrediel nodded, looking over them all, not really noting that two were not here at that time. "Are all well?" She asked.
Frodo nodded. "Aye. We are all right."
Pippin nodded. "Hobbits; thick skulls." He smiled.
Merry nodded, too. "Yeah, only some skulls are more hollow then others, right Pip?"
Pippin frowned. "Huh?" He asked, giving Niphrediel a hug, his little arms holding her around her abdomen.
Niphrediel smiled, touched. She patted the mop of curls until the little hobbit let her go before running back off with Merry.
Niphrediel then looked over at the gazebo. If that is where the fellowship is to be sleeping, then why was Aragorn walking away from it? Niphrediel sighed, but she would say nothing. Aragorn must have a reason for fibbing.
She walked across the hollow, looking down into the next. She saw a platform that looked like the cut-off trunk of a hollow tree and a small fountain there but not much else. She then continued to gaze around at the old statues around the area that looked as if they had been there for hundreds of years, watching the plants around them grow with ageless eyes under their cover of stone.
Niphrediel sat down on a rock, Beren jumping on beside her, watching as five remains of the company began to go back to their previous task.
You know…..Gandalf would have gotten out if you had just kept running….then your leg wouldn't have been wounded AND he would still be alive. If the world turns to ruins, it will all be your fault, Niphrediel. The fate of the world is all your fault……If only he had just taken my hand! So foolish!!
"You should be resting, you know." Legolas advised, walking passed, giving Niphrediel a little fright.
Niphrediel turned her head, watching him and Gimli walk back to their things under the gazebo. She nodded, rubbing her arm with her hand softly.
She heard a grumble in the distance and only looked up when something took her hand, and pulled it up. She looked up wide-eyed as the angry elf bore into her wrist with his eyes.
"Aiya." He said, looking down and shaking his head after he looked at the dark flesh there.
Niphrediel shook her head, snatching her hand back. "No, no, no. It looks worse then it actually is." She absently noticed he had taken off his tunic, leaving only his pretty silk-looking shirt on that he wore underneath. He looked more comfortable without the pack and bow on his back, too.
Thranduilion sighed. "I'll have to find another gift to compensate the damage." He declared, running back to his bags.
Niphrediel shook her head urgently. "No!" She moaned, in a way that would be completed if she could stomp her foot.
"Yes!" He mimicked, which surprised her since he used sarcasm.
Niphrediel glared. "But you have nothing to give me!" What an annoying husband he was going to be to a wife.
"Silence!" He snapped, rummaging through his pack.
Niphrediel groaned. "You repaid me by taking that rock off my leg, if anything I should be repaying you…. somehow." She said, repaid only with a wave of dismissal of Legolas's left arm.
He must have grabbed something small, since he held whatever the damned thing was in his closed left hand. He walked back to the rock and sat down, turning around and crossing his legs on it so his booted feet were no longer on the ground.
He held out his two closed hands in front of him, waiting for her to turn around, of which she didn't. Niphrediel continued to watch the hobbits make their beds.
"Hurry." Legolas nagged.
Niphrediel tightened her jaw. "I refuse to receive a gift."
"Are you always this stubborn? Most females enjoy getting gifts and do not usually force people to not give them something." He sighed.
Niphrediel frowned. "It's not even a permanent mark." She said, glancing at the elf. "And I must have missed it when you dropped little gifts on the bodies of those dead orcs in Moria as death is a permanent mark."
Legolas said nothing, just continued to sit there and wait stubbornly.
Niphrediel shook her head, once again. "Keep it til I do something worth awarding. A trophic gift." She said.
Legolas sighed, but nodded. "Very well." He said; putting whatever the item was in a pocket. He then took time to look at the dark bruise on Niphrediel's temple.
"Aiya" escaped his lips with his breath quietly as he looked to the darkened flesh there. "Are you well?" He asked, suddenly seeing the wounds as if she didn't have them before then.
Niphrediel nodded. "Oh, yes." She said, "The healers are ever so skilful here."
Legolas nodded. "Of course they did. They are elves!"
Niphrediel rolled her eyes and gave a helpless shrug. She scanned around the area, remembering of what was at the south of the gardens.
Legolas looked around at where she was looking, probably thinking there was someone approaching or such. "What are you looking at?" He asked, confused rather then curious, as his eyes scanned around to anything that Niphrediel may have thought interesting.
Niphrediel shook her head. "Nothing." She said, absently.
Legolas nodded, contently watching other things happening around them.
Niphrediel smiled to Frodo who walked passed, though it dwindled when she didn't get a glance. Niphrediel almost felt ashamed at doing something so much as smiling. Mithrandir, a dear companion, was gone, and it was her doing.
Niphrediel stood up and brushed her skirt before she could feel any symptoms that had anything to do with her eyes beginning to water up. "Where is the orchid?"
"In that direction." Said Merry, pointing through an arcade that seemed to run into an free-ran garden of luscious vines and bushes and fresh flowers and other such plants that grew amongst each other with freedom of gardener's hands.
Niphrediel nodded. "Thankyou." She said, and then looked down at her grim counterpart.
All it took was the couple moments of silence and he was serious again. Overly serious like he was an old dying dog looking up at the sky, waiting for death. It was depressing and uncomfortable. Elves weren't supposed to look such…well, maybe in the past it was so, but in these dark times…. Niphrediel could not be sure.
"Come on, then." She said, making herself as cherry as she could possibly force herself to seem.
Legolas looked up to her, frowning. "Huh? What did you say, child?" He asked, not listening to her previous comment.
Niphrediel gave a nod. "Come on. To the orchid here-we-come!" She said, beginning to walk.
"Hurry up." She mumbled, beginning to lead the way. She didn't hear footsteps, but the leaves crunched behind her, being so fragile under the lighter feet.
Oh how she missed Glorfindel.
Legolas sighed tiredly behind her, but continued to follow her.
Niphrediel walked through the archway, amazed at what it is that it led to.
The garden was large and green. The bushes, flowers and vines were free to grow without maintenance save the shortly cropped grass that must be trimmed sporadically. The walls that kept the garden inside were tall and made from ancient stone clothed with beautiful vines that grew up them. Here and there were the ruins of ancient stone garden furniture and ornaments and at the very end of the garden, so far away Niphrediel could not see it, was a gigantic fountain built into the last stone wall. Regardless of its age, or that half of it overrun with moss and flowers, water still sprout from the taps.
Niphrediel walked along, her gaze unable to keep still. It was like a garden of….a garden of ……Niphrediel couldn't explain, but it was as if the garden was just for her. As if it had waited throughout the ages just for her to come along and look at it.
Niphrediel glanced down at the plain of grass in the middle of the garden, at the flowers there, for she now stood in the heart of it and the flowers were only centimetres from her feet. They were a mass of beautiful white flowers perched on high green stems. They were all white flowers, but two different kinds.
Niphrediel raised a curious eyebrow, and slowly bent down, picking one up. She brought it close to her face so she could see it.
Its petals were large and velvet-looking, spread out to make the face of the flower look like a star, and inside was gold-coloured pollen in the centre.
Niphrediel smiled, and brought the flower to her noise and breathed its perfume in. It smelt like an air of an orchid after the rain…. that very distinctive, fresh smell.
Niphrediel looked at it, thinking for a moment. It was strange that flowers were so….so…feminine. Niphrediel could easily compare flowers to maiden's she knew. Yet this flower seemed different. Wether it was the shape of it, of the shelter-like arch of the petals; this flower was not so feminine. If roses such as roses, daisies and elanors were the female flowers, then it was flowers like these that were the males.
Niphrediel slowly sat down, twirling the stem of the flower in between her thumb and index finger. She turned around and waved the bored elf over. "Hurry up." She yelled.
Legolas sighed and sat down slowly, lazily moving his legs up in front of him so his underarms rested against them. He was in a world faraway, as Niphrediel could tell. He was probably sleeping.
Niphrediel frowned and reached out with her hand and waved the flower in front of his face, accidentally hitting his cheek, but because it was only a flower and wouldn't have harmed him, Niphrediel didn't have to say sorry. "Hey." She beckoned.
Legolas snapped out of his little reverie and looked over. "Hmm? What is it?" He asked.
Niphrediel waved the flower again. "What is this?"
Legolas looked at her strangely, raising an eyebrow. "It's a flower, Niphrediel."
Niphrediel glared. "No. I mean what kind of flower is it?"
Legolas shrugged, looking at the flower. "Why, it is the flower uilos." He said, snatching the flower from her to look at it himself.
"Huh? It's the what?" Niphrediel asked, having misheard what he had said.
Legolas twirled the flower between his thumb and index fingers, as she had, looking down at the star-shaped face. "The uilos flower. The simbelmynë. Its name means 'Everwhite'." He, too, brought the flower to his nose, breathing in the scent. "Its original origins are not from Lorien, nor any other elvish dwelling. Someone must have loved it much for it to be brought here to grow also since it only grows in one other place. It is, though, a rather complementary flower for this place."
"Why is that?" Niphrediel asked, surprised that she was actually interested.
Legolas gave the flower back to her. "It knows no season. It grows all year round. 'Immortal' as its Sindarin name translates."
Niphrediel frowned, trying to remember the meaning of 'immortal' in elvish…..
"Alfirin." Legolas said with a small smile, seeing that Niphrediel was trying to think of the word.
Niphrediel nodded. "Yes, that's it." She held up the flower for her to see. "The alfirin." She thought aloud, before looking to the other flower. She put the alfirin down, moving her hand to take up one of the other kind of flower.
She picked it up, and just like the alfirin, she brought it up to her so she could see it closer.
This breed of flower seemed the opposite of the alfirin apart from its white colour, though it was a little paler. The two flowers were like a set; the alfirin sheltered this flower with its big petals while this flower had yet to let its own petals fall open for it seemed to not yet be able to do so. The meaning seemed symbolic like a parent and child or other such pairs.
Niphrediel brought the flower to her nose, breathing in a sweet scent of honey coming from something hidden inside the layer of petals, letting the flower linger there so she could continue look at it properly.
It was the colour of bright winter snow atop of a long and slender stalk of pale green. The pale petals seemed to hug together, remaining unfolded, like the form of a juvenile rose, shaped like a drop of snow. It was large, though, as physically mature as the alfirin stating that the flower was supposed to look so at its adult state.
Niphrediel waved the flower in front of Legolas, just like she did the alfirin. "What is this?" She asked.
Legolas paused before answering. "Do you think I am a gardener?" He asked, in amusement.
Niphrediel shrugged. "I know not, but anyone has better knowledge about flowers than I, so if you don't know then there is no way that I do." She muttered quickly. "So? What is it?"
Legolas gave a shrug of his shoulders. "Well, if I am right—which I am—then it is a niphredil."
Niphrediel's eyebrows raised, shocked. "This is a niphredil?"
Legolas nodded, laying down on the soft grass. "Indeed, it is." He said, bringing his arms up and putting his hands under his head as he looked up at the sky slowly becoming dim as the sun set. "I'm surprised you didn't know." He added.
Niphrediel shrugged. "I've just never thought about it." She said, leaning on her left arm; her lower arm lying on its side so she was not totally lying down.
For some reason, her hand came up to her whistle around her neck and Niphrediel moved onto her stomach, her elbows keeping herself as high as she could be, as she brought the whistle to her mouth.
"What are you doing?" Legolas mumbled, his gaze not moving from the sky.
He got no answer, until the melodic siren of the whistle was sent into the air. A little too loudly, for it made Legolas cringe.
Niphrediel immediately stopped, seeing his cringe. She then remembered about his more sensitive hearing. "Opps. Sorry." She said apologetically.
Legolas glared at her. "Just don't do it again." He said, before letting it go. His slight irritation drained away after that.
Niphrediel bit her lip.
"My the world has changed since I was young." Sighed Legolas, obviously to himself.
Regardless that he just was speaking allowed, Niphrediel thought about the words he had just said, a frown coming to her face as she pushed herself back up, her arm straight as she leaned on it, sitting comfortably. "What are you talking about? You are young." She said, confused.
Legolas must had been amused at this, for he sat up, and got back into the sitting position as he did before laying down. His amused eyes stuck on hers. "Really?" He said, raising an eyebrow. "How old do you think I am?" He asked, curiously.
Niphrediel shrugged. "I don't know…a little older then me."
It looked like Legolas had to keep himself from gaping. "When I was your age I was an infant."
Niphrediel shrugged. "Okay, that was a stupid answer." She said, thinking again. "Thiry?"
"But a seed!" Legolas declared.
Niphrediel guessed again. "Fifty?"
"Pah!"
"Sixty?"
Legolas raised an unamused eyebrow, stating 'no'.
"Seventy?"
Legolas sighed, looking away like a snob.
Niphrediel grinned. Drama queen. "One hundred!"
Legolas laughed. "I was one hundred more then two hundred years ago!"
Niphrediel nodded. Yes, of course. That is probably the normal age of some elves…
"Five hundred?" Niphrediel asked.
Legolas shook his head, stare amused and a secretive grin upon his lips.
Niphrediel stopped pausing between her guesses, becoming a little uneasy. "Six hundred?"
"No."
"Seven hundred?"
"No."
"Eight hundred?"
"No."
Niphrediel hesitated, eyes becoming wide. "Nine hundred?" She let out.
Legolas smiled at her expression, before he shook his head.
Niphrediel froze for a moment, shocked. She swallowed a lump in her throat and began to continue. "O-O-One thousand?" She said, stuttering.
Legolas shook his head. "I was a millennia old more then a millennia ago."
Niphrediel's arm felt like jelly. "You're"-
"I will be three thousand years old in due time, as time for elves passes quickly. The few years will pass in no time and I would have lived three thousand years."
Niphrediel gaped, looking at the elf in newfound wonder. "Wow…" She paused for a moment. "You're really old."
Legolas laughed hard, so hard he had to lower his head and cover his mouth to try and stop him from smiling since it quickly began to hurt his cheeks. "Compared to you, yes, I am ancient." He said, when he was finally composed enough to speak. "But I am young compared to others of my kin, such as Glorfindel, Elrond, and other elves who you may know."
Niphrediel shrugged, lying down on her back. "Probably." She mumbled, letting her arms go limb on the mattress of soft grass, her right hand still holding the niphredil.
"This will be our secret place, inkay?" She said wit enthusiasm.
Legolas raised an eyebrow, scanning the garden. "Our secret place?"
Niphrediel nodded. "I've never had a secret place before, let alone a secret garden, and since I'm with you it can only fit."
Legolas shrugged. "Alright then. This will be our special place." He said in amusement. He mustn't have had a secret place before. Glorfindel and Niphrediel's special place in Imladris.
Oh how Niphrediel missed Glorfindel.
Niphrediel frowned, again feeling her gut turn with the symptoms of homesickness. She, instead, tried to think about other things desperately; anything that could get her mind of Rivendell and all her loved ones there.
"What does your name mean?" She asked, not in reasons to make conversation, but rather that she actually didn't know since she had never thought about it.
"Green leaf." Replied Legolas.
Niphrediel brought her right hand up, letting it rest against her stomach while it gently held the flower. She blew a tendril of her growing bangs away from her face while the rest of her hair lay like the rest of her on the grass like a black pool. "That's nice."
"I wouldn't say nice, but I have heard worse." Legolas said.
Niphrediel's eyebrows rose in interest. "Oh? Like what?"
Legolas shrugged. "I cannot think of anything, but I know there are some really horrid ones that are totally unsuited like…hmmm." He paused, thinking. "Like a maid with a name meaning 'Princess of the Dawn' or something overly-done like that."
Niphrediel laughed at that, looking up suddenly noticing that the moon and stars were beginning to show through the darkened, though not black yet, sky bared through the trees.
It was then that Legolas, too, noticed the change of day. "Oh, is it getting too dark for you?" He asked, not being able to know how well she could see since he did not have the problem.
Niphrediel shook her head, since she could see just fine at the moment. Tonight seemed that it was going to be a bright night, so Niphrediel would be able to see well enough all night if she had to.
"You have a gift." Stated Legolas, settling down about a metre beside her.
Niphrediel shrugged. "What's that?" She asked, not really bothered, since she thought he was talking about her eyesight under dark circumstances.
"You make me feel young." He said.
Niphrediel frowned. "You said it yourself; you are young."
Legolas sighed. "At such grave times, it does not feel such."
Niphrediel continued to frown, but said nothing else.
"It's supposed to be a complement, by the way." Stated Legolas, as if clearing that little fact up.
"Good." Mumbled Niphrediel, looking up into the sky. "And it is good I make you feel young. You have a lot of time to be old."
Legolas raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Are you 'Niphrediel the Seer', now?"
Niphrediel's eyes brightened at this game. "Yes I am. Its better then being 'Legolas the Old'."
Legolas moved up into a sitting position, his legs crossed. "Then do tell, Niphrediel the Seer, what does the future have in store for dear 'Legolas the Old'?"
Niphrediel took a minute to let her imagination run wild, coming up with her little story. "Well…" She began, emphasizing the word. "You will go on this quest, and after it all prevails and Aragorn, Arwen and I go to Gondor, you will……um……travel all the lands of Middle Earth before finding a small elvish city on your way home."
Legolas nodded, utterly amused. "And then???"
"And you met beautiful elf maiden called…." Niphrediel thought for a moment, her eyes that were bright from her child-like storytelling dimming before she continued on. "Elanor!" She said, making Legolas laugh from his mouth underneath his hand that covered it to muffle the sounds. "With eyes of bright blue and hair so golden one could swear golden stars twinkled from them. Anyway, you take Elanor with you to Mirkwood to meet your father and because Elanor is so beautiful and lovely, everyone absolutely adores her and you marry right away!"
Legolas shook his head helplessly, but Niphrediel, so tied up in her story, ignored it.
"And sooner or later, when poor old Niphrediel the Seer is telling stories only underground in a tomb from a body of dust, as you and Elanor live happily in the Grey Havens, she becomes with child and has a pair of twins. A boy and a girl! You name the boy….." Niphrediel thought again for a moment, as names were obviously not her speciality. "Legolion, and the girl….." A cheeky grin came to her face at the end of her search for the girl's name. "Niphrediel!"-
Niphrediel was silenced by the loud and interruptive sound of Legolas's laughs.
His shoulders bobbled up and down as he laughed, rocking slightly back and forth to keep him from rolling to his side.
Niphrediel continued, either way. "Because Niphrediel is the most beautiful name in the world, so, of course, you would name your daughter that." She waved her hand, finishing her story. "And you lived happily ever after with Elanor, Legolion and Niphrediel. That sounds slightly funny to the ears…. by oh well'."
Legolas continued to laugh. "And what will happen to you in your future, Niphrediel the Seer?" He asked.
Niphrediel shrugged. "I don't know."
Legolas clapped. "Come on. Do predict!"
Niphrediel thought for a minute, before speaking the first thoughts that came to mind. "I will go with Aragorn and Arwen to Gondor, where Aragorn will be titled accordingly and they will be married. I will be known as the rather strange girl who only comes out for dinner by most, which I wouldn't really care about. I will grow up, eventually, and watch Aragorn and Arwen have their own children and love them as my own throughout the ages. I will die happily surrounded by those I love at an elderly age and my coffin will be shrouded with a small lot of elanors and niphredils and I will be buried in a tomb between my mother and Aragorn." She finished with a smile. "That would be a good life, me thinks."
Legolas raised an eyebrow, something coming to mind; yet he did not speak. He continued to think before he lay back down, obviously pensive as his face became grim.
"Don't think." Niphrediel spoke.
Legolas turned his head. "What?"
Niphrediel turned her head, giving Legolas a nod with her eyes. "Don't think. Forget about other things."
"Why?" He asked.
Niphrediel looked back up to the sky. "There is nothing that can be thought of that may relieve you from worrying, so just forget about it all."
"Oh, is that going to be a rule for me whenever I am with you?" Legolas asked, contented.
Niphrediel nodded. "Yes, it is." She said, speaking seriously and with added age. "It is not healthy to worry or think all the time about the past or future, especially for an elf since you have and will live through a lot of it. All those things are forgotten when in my presence from this moment on, Legolas Greenleaf, understand? There is only now, no past, nor future." She preached.
Legolas nodded. "Very well. That is a surprisingly wise idea."
Niphrediel shrugged. "Its from 'The Nightingale'. One of the little poems at the end."
"What is it?" He asked.
Niphrediel shrugged, again. "I don't know it by heart. I'll read it to you one day."
"What is it about?"
"Friendship, I think. Friendship or, and, love in whatever form. It was my mother's favourite." She said.
Silence was brought to the two, before Legolas's voice broke it. "Do you miss your mother?"
Niphrediel took out a deep breath. "Everyday." She mumbled, consternation written on her face.
Legolas shuffled. "So do I." He said.
Niphrediel frowned. "Your mother"-
"My mother waits for my family and I to meet her again in Valinor." Legolas gently interrupted, saving Niphrediel from guessing.
Niphrediel nodded. "Just feel lucky knowing that you will meet her again, Thranduilion. Most are not so fortunate." She said with a small smile, looking up and frowning.
She closed her eyes, for a moment, seeming as if she were just lounging back in peace. Inside she was hoping that maybe, just maybe, if she opened her eyes she will find out the passed years was just a nightmare, and she was still a little girl with a mother.
She refused to open her eyes, wishing with all her might, yet knowing what she was hoping for wasn't going to happen. So instead, she chose to keep the darkness there; the only way she could pretend that she was nothing but air, or perhaps a calm breeze too weak to knock anything over.
She frowned when she felt something soft graze the back of her hand and slightly thicker, longer and stronger fingers move into the gaps of hers. If not for the skin of pure silk, Niphrediel would think this was Aragorn, and if not for the city she was in, she would think this Glorfindel. Niphrediel tightened her hold on the elf's hand, comforted by the brotherly gesture.
Indeed, Legolas was like Glorfindel, though if in a life or death situation, Niphrediel's loyalty to her best friend would undoubtedly come first.
Niphrediel opened her eyes and sniffed. "Urgh, sorry. Something was in my eye." She mumbled, unfortunately making herself smile as her eyes began to fill slightly.
Legolas laughed, sounding more like a sweet giggle. Niphrediel watched him get up and lean over her from his towered height.
Niphrediel raised an eyebrow and waved, making him grin as his laughter faded away.
"Come along, then." Said Legolas. "There is a dinner we should go to."
Niphrediel frowned in distaste of the idea. "No!" She groaned.
"Yes!" Legolas mimicked, making Niphrediel laugh regardless of her efforts to resist.
Niphrediel looked up at the edhel, widening her eyes to beg with his. "Please." She begged. "Lets just stay here. I don't have the energy."
Legolas laughed, shaking his head and bringing his arms to hang down to her, his hands open for her to take. "Come on, Aragorn will get worried if you are away too long." He said, lowering his hands even more. "Hurry up before I hurt my back." He grinned.
Niphrediel continued to frown as she took his hands and allowed him to pull her up, and they began to make their way back. From there, Niphrediel didn't know where to go, so she just stuck with Legolas and followed him like a shadow, of which he expected.
Despite Niphrediel's façade, inside she felt her doubts rising to her surface. Maybe Aragorn wasn't going to come back. Maybe the ring wasn't going to be destroyed. Maybe the world she knew was going to be destroyed at the hands of………evil.
Many other things came to Niphrediel's mind, and all of which revolved around Aragorn, rather then the ring or her mother or the rest of the world or the other things an unself-centered lady would think about. Why did her brother, her keeper, had to be chosen? Why was his fate dependant on him facing the evils of this world? Why was she not born a man so she could help? Why couldn't she have more hope?
Niphrediel's frown darkened, and she continued to move on.
The dinner was quiet, the food more tasteful then anything Niphrediel had tasted for a long time. There was not much chatter, at least not with a lament for Mithrandir echoing through the trees.
After eating all of the food on her plate, Niphrediel left the dinner and went back to the Infirmary. It was there where she collapsed onto her bed and cried.
Note:
I'd like to thank everyone who has reviewed so far and apologise for taking so bloody long to get out this chapter. I'm not going to make an excuse for my ignorance of not writing quick enough, but I will say that I'm trying to fend of Writers Block with all my might and hopefully my efforts will prevail in the battle.
The poem featured in this chapter is called Tuile (Spring) by Ales Bican, look down to see the translation.
Translation:
Ma cenilye Anar acala
Do you see the Sun shine
Ma hlarilye filit alire
Do you hear a bird sing
Íre tuile tule ara le?
When the spring comes beside you?
Anar lauca, haire filit-ómar
The Sun warm, far bird-voices
Laica salque arwa venya holmeo
A green grass with fresh odour
Fanyar luini hellesse, en!
White clouds upon blue sky, yonder!
Vanye, vanye lóti linquilie
Fair, fair flowers of many colours
Ma cenilye alda atyulta,
Do you see a tree stand up,
Ma hlarilye súre asúya
Do you hear a wind breathe
Íre i vinya lúme sinome sí?
When the new time [is] here now?
Heldasse aldaron vanwa, súre mi olwar
A nakedness of trees [is] lost, a wind [is] in branches
Queni mótar titte latinassen
People labour on small fields
Helca ar lauca vilya, rossi, rossi
Cold and warm air, dews, dews
Caline auri, elene lómi tulir
Light days, starry nights come
Ma cenilye hína atyale
Do you see a child play
Ma hlarilye hína alala
Do you hear a child laugh
Ar ma amorta órelya?
And does it uplift your heart?
Híni mallessen, vendi, seldor
Children in streets, girls, boys
Celvar, olvar, atani nostar, ela!
Animals, plants, humans beget, look!
Linte rámar, vanye lossi, calime hendi
Swift wings, fair blossoms, bright eyes
Vanima, vanima, vanima, vanima
Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful
