Chapter Eight
Elladan arrived at the gate, jumping down and going to embrace his father as a stable-hand took the horse to the stables. But the news he bore was not all good.
"Atar, talant Elrohir e i ohta. I do not know what happened. I turned around to see him this way. But one sentinel I spoke to told me that he was out numbered and attacked by three orcs."
" Get him to the Healing Houses," Elrond spoke to the two carrying him between their horses. Then he turned to Elladan. "You have done well, Elladan. Do not fret for your brother, I am sure he will be well again." Elladan nodded, and turned to Legolas.
He placed his hand on Legolas' shoulder in the traditional Elven greeting, and they embraced.
"Ah, Legolas. How do you fare? "
"I fare quite well, Elladan, thank you. I am sorry to hear of the condition of your brother."
"I am as well, Legolas, but I do not worry for him. He is very strong. All he needs is some rest."
Legolas smiled. "Well, there is some good news."
They turned, waving to the people, and began to walk inside.
"Legolas," Elladan began, "You have said nothing of a feast. Am I to believe that there shall be no festivities?"
"Of course not, Elladan. There shall be a feast in the honor of Imladris and its victory. Why do you ask?"
"Legolas, festivity is the best part of battle." He received an arched brow in response.
"And what of the battles that are not won?"
"The lack of festivity is part of what makes them so disappointing," Elladan smirked.
They walked to the palace laughing together.
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Daralis looked at herself in the glass. She had changed from the white gown to a deep red one of crushed velvet and satin. She wore matching slippers, and her mother's necklace.
She sat at the vanity and began preparing herself further.
She left her hair down, something Imsiriel would never have let her do, and was applying paints and charcoals to her face, when she heard a knock on the door.
"Who is it ?"
"Atar, Dara." was the reply.
She rushed to the door, opened it, and went back to the vanity. Legolas looked exasperated.
"Dara, Miire-nin, they are expecting us at the celebratory feast." She looked at him in the mirror while dotting raspberry tint on her lips.
"I'm almost done! Anyway," she added, "Haven't you ever heard of being fashionably late?"
"Dara, please, you must remember that this is your chance to prove yourself to Imladris and its people. We must go now."
"Fine, I'm done anyway! Let's go."
They left, and walked through the halls to arrive at the great hall, where the feast was to be held. They walked through the doors linked to the Royal Wing, and the fanfare or horns sounded as they walked through.
Elladan's head turned to the new arrivals, and he was shocked to see Legolas enter with the maiden from earlier.
Luckily for him, the Elven emotion is a complex, and mostly hidden thing, or the dismay he felt would also have been projected across the room.
Instead, a simple royal smile graced his face, but then a wince as he saw that the two seats next to him could only be reserved for them.
Daralis sat down next to the Elf she had seen ride into Imladris earlier that day, and her face took on a slight blush, as she did find him quite attractive.
The food was served, and Elladan asked her if she wanted any of the wine. She looked at Legolas, whose attention was elsewhere. He was speaking to the Elf next to him, and Daralis looked back at Elladan with a smile while nodding her head in the affirmative.
He smiled back at her, and poured her some in a crystal goblet which matched his and the others at the table.
She took a sip, and was rewarded with the sweet taste of Elven wine- completely unlike the wine she had tasted with her friends and her mother. She smiled at him again.
"Thank you."
"Of course, milady. It would have been rude of me not to." Another smile.
Each of them made him dizzy. She was enchanting him, he could physically feel it as it happened. He wanted to joke, and laugh, and offer her wine forever, if it would bring that smile out, he wanted to commission a work of art with her smile in it, wanted to keep her in a state of happiness for as long as he had sight.
And so he kept speaking.
And with each melodious word Daralis heard, she wanted to hear two more. Each word he spoke filled her mind, every note he uttered, every emotion displayed in the silver eyes, every gesture with those wide hands, every time his ebony hair contrasted with the paleness of his cheek, her heart soared.
And so she kept smiling.
And it would have continued in this, this loving but vicious cycle, if the music had not stuck up all of a sudden. Elladan stood, and asked her to dance.
She stood nervously, and spoke quickly to him.
"I don't know how to do this."
"You shall be fine."
"No, really. I don't know how." He was leading her out to the dance floor now, and she was almost there. No turning back now, everyone was watching.
At least it was a slow one.
She leaned into him, comfortable when she knew she shouldn't be, and let him lead her in the steps. She heard him speaking softly into her ear.
"We have spoken for nigh an hour, and yet still your name is unknown to me. I have lost my manners. I am Elladan of Imladris, miss, and you?"
Daralis opened her mouth to answer him as the music sped up, and she froze up a bit as her face took on an odd expression.
"I am sorry, Elladan, but I really don't feel well. Might we sit down?"
"Of course, Miss."
Illness was, at first, Daralis' rouse to receive a sit down, but once she was down, she realized that she wasn't fully lying. She felt a bit dizzy and her head began to pound.
"Elladan," she said a bit woozily, "I believe I need to lie down."
"I shall take you back to the table then, and speak to Legolas for you." She smiled her grateful thanks, and managed to make her way to the table with as much normalcy as she could muster.
But after she and Legolas made their way through the doors, she nearly collapsed, but for her father, who quickly caught her. He brought her to her guest room, sent her into her bathroom with a nightgown, and bade her change. When she came out, he tied it up for her and put her into bed, promising a pain reliever for her head, and left for the Healing Houses.
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Elladan sat at Elrohir's bedside, simply watching his brother. With the removal of the new object of his affections, he was no longer interested in any banquet, and so while everyone else still was, he was able to be alone, and face the terror he felt whenever Elrohir was sick or injured. He looked at the bed, at his mirror image, and a quick rush went to his heart. He could see him breathing, he could hear his heart beating, but the same had been for his mother and he had lost her.
He remembered looking at her this way, remembered the way she looked, the way Elrohir, as himself, resembled her features.
He remembered when she left.
Tears threatened to fill his eyes, when Legolas entered in what looked like a panic. Elladan rose to see what he needed.
"Mani na taa, Legolas?"
"I need a pain relieving drink. Do you know where there is one?"
"Yes, I believe so Let me go and see if I can find it."
He found, and began to mix it, while Legolas watched. He wanted so badly to ask him
So he did.
"Legolas, I must speak with you on a somewhat urgent manner."
"Yes, alright, Elladan. Go ahead."
"I wish to know the name of the one you sat with tonight."
"I assume you do not mean Lord Endarion?" Legolas spoke with a slight smile.
"No, I do not. I refer to the one I also sat next to, the female,"
"Are you sure you do not wish to know about Endarion? Fascinating, he is."
"Legolas!" Elladan exclaimed, aggravated.
"Alright, alright. If not he, then surely you must speak of my daughter, Daralis of Mirkwood."
The old dismay left Elladan's body as fresh dismay rushed in to fill its place.
Not attached, no, but the daughter of his old companion! She may as well have been married. Or locked up far from Elladan's reach. Either way, he needed some justification.
"Daughter? How did you come to have a daughter?"
"It is a long story, friend, and the same daughter you ask about is in desperate need of the drink you hold - another long story. When there is time, I shall explain it all to you, but at the moment, I must go and tend to my child."
Elladan nodded numbly and handed over the drink.
Luckily for him, Legolas was worried about Daralis. Perhaps he had missed the emotions displayed so clearly over his companion's face in the bright moonlight of the room.
Elvish translation:
Atar, talant Elrohir e i ohta. - Father, Elrohir was hurt in battle.
Mani na taa, Legolas? - What is it, Legolas?
I just realized something - ELLADAN AND ELROHIR WEREN'T IN ROTK!!!! The movie, of course. Wow. That really makes me sad. I was really looking forward to them.. Neither were the Dunedain, now that I think about it.. only Denethor makes a reference. :( poo.
P.S. I wrote this chapter on December 21st, 2003, as well as the above note. I'm writing this P.S. on March 20, 2004. Just so you know I'm not incredibly slow.