Lady Eowyn Undomiel: Yes, there is more to the story. You will be glad to know that there is some, ahem, 'interaction' between Gandalf and Edwen Nana in this very chapter. As to your other requests—both a mischievous Arwen and a warrior Arwen—I will definitely consider writing stories that incorporate those elements!
Dragonfly: Yes, Tathar has turned into quite a character in his own right. He certainly knew to hit Elrohir where it hurts, so to speak!
Legosgurl: Thank you for adding me to your favorites list (author blushes self-consciously).
Terreis: I'm with you. As I said to Dragonfly above, Tathar has turned into quite a character in his own right.
Andi-Black: Those sticky buns make great weapons. Yes, Malthenrî and Rúmil will be quite a pair. I'll have to show them together in a future chapter or even in a separate story.
Beta Reader: Dragonfly
Vocabulary
Caranlass—'Red Leaf', Círdan's niece
Chapter 58: Matrimonial Meddling
Legolas had not thought it possible that he should be anxious to depart Imladris and ride on to the Grey Havens, but after several days of escorting Arwen in front of tittering masses of young Elves, the Mirkwood Elf wanted nothing more than to be away from that place. Now at last he was riding through the gates of Rivendell. The previous night, however, he had been vouchsafed a most surprising bit of news.
He and Arwen had gone for one last walk in the garden. As they stood before the fountain, Arwen had said, "Legolas, we must talk about marriage."
'Oh, no', Legolas thought in a panic. 'What shall I do! What shall I do!'
"I am sure you know," Arwen continued, "that the gossips would have it that you and I shall marry."
His tongue cleaving to the roof of his mouth with embarrassment, Legolas could only nod.
"Of course, we both know the notion to be silly. We are brother and sister, you and I."
"Oh, yes, of course," Legolas said hastily and in great relief.
"Moreover, I have given my heart to another. I am betrothed, Legolas."
"Betrothed! To whom? Not Haldir, surely!"
Arwen laughed.
"Why is it that whenever an elleth is betrothed, the first question out of anyone's mouth is 'Not Haldir, surely!' The world badly underestimates the matrimonial potential of that poor ellon."
"So it is not Haldir?"
"No. It is Estel I hope to marry."
"Estel!"
"Does that surprise you?"
"Yes, but not because I find him wanting in any trait that would suit him to be your spouse. It is simply that I have never before thought on the matter: Aragorn—married!"
"But now that you do think on it, does the thought displease you?"
"No! no! You suit each other. He is a human, true, and you an Elf, but it is not unprecedented in your family for Man and Elf to espouse. But, Arwen, if you are espoused to Aragorn, why has Elrond not made it known? At the very least it would have saved me a great deal of grief!"
Arwen smiled, but a little sadly.
"My father will not permit our betrothal to be formally announced."
"Why ever not? Elrond is very fond of your intended. After all, Aragorn is both his foster-son and his kinsman. Why would your father not want Aragorn's betrothal to you to be generally known?"
"My father is very fond of Aragorn, but no less fond of me! He will lose me if I marry Aragorn. Surely you must know that, Legolas."
Legolas was brought up short. Of course. By choosing a mortal as her husband, Arwen would be forfeiting her opportunity to depart with her father when the time came. She would never journey to the Undying Lands. With Aragorn, her dust would someday be mingled with that of Middle Earth.
"Elrond opposes the marriage, then," he said soberly.
"Not altogether," Arwen replied. "Say merely that he has placed conditions upon it. There are deeds that must be accomplished before any wedding can take place. Until then, the engagement is not to be bruited about—for one thing, it may be dangerous if attention were to be drawn to Aragorn. Some would ask, 'Who is this human who presumes to the hand of the daughter of Elrond of Imladris?' There are those who would kill for the answer to that question."
"You are right," Legolas agreed, "and you may depend upon my discretion. I will not mention this matter to anyone."
"Oh," said Arwen teasingly, "you may mention it to your father if you think it will help you bear up under his attempts at arranging a marriage for you."
Legolas laughed merrily.
"I thank you, Arwen. Yes, at least now my father will be forced to give over his hopes that you and I will become engaged. You may be sure that I take great comfort in that fact!"
Thinking of this conversation as he rode, Legolas smiled. One potential spouse removed from the marriage market, he thought cheerfully. Now it was only necessary to evade Círdan's niece in order for him to return to Mirkwood as matrimonially unencumbered as he had been at his departure. Perhaps, he thought hopefully, perhaps this niece would be the one destined to marry Haldir. Someone had to do it!
Just then he drew up his horse, for the column had come to a halt. Gilglîr had been in the lead, and he cantered back to speak with Legolas.
"Legolas, a scout has sighted Man tracks, but more disturbingly, Orc tracks."
"So close to Imladris?" said Legolas, surprised. "And on the western side of the Misty Mountains?"
"It is unusual," Gilglîr agreed, "but the scout is one of my most experienced, and I do not doubt his word."
"How fresh are the Orc tracks?"
"Only a few hours old."
"How many?"
"Three."
Legolas pondered.
"Three Orcs would be no threat, but perhaps they are scouts. These three may be harbingers of greater numbers."
"We are still very close to Imladris. Should we turn back?"
Legolas shook his head.
"If we turned back every time we came across Orc spoor, we would never complete any journey. We must send back one rider to alert Elrond, but the rest of us shall proceed—cautiously, of course."
"And when have you ever known me to be other than cautious," retorted Gilglîr.
Legolas grinned.
"You have often taken my side against my father, the King of Northern Mirkwood. That does not bespeak caution!"
Gilglîr returned the prince's grin and then broached another subject.
"One other matter Legolas: Shouldn't we send Edwen Nana back with the rider? She is, after all, an elleth."
"Hah! Now you are being incautious. Just you try sending back Edwen Nana—but only if you don't mind being beaten about the head and shoulders with your own sword!"
"True," Gilglîr conceded hastily. He had seen Edwen Nana in action often enough to agree that being beaten with his sword was all too likely a prospect should he cross the nursemaid. "Very well. I will send a messenger to Elrond to tell him of these tracks. I will instruct the others to be more than usually vigilant."
Slowly the company rode on, and soon more Orc tracks were spotted. Gilglîr's scout pronounced them to be the same three Orcs, and it soon became apparent that these goblins were repeatedly criss-crossing the trail in a seemingly random fashion.
"They appear to be meandering about," declared the Seneschal, perplexed. "I wonder what sort of creature they are tracking."
Legolas shook his head, equally bewildered.
"At least they are not tracking us—that is plain."
Just then they heard a rustle nearby.
"Perhaps I misspoke," hissed Legolas.
As one, every Elf drew and nocked an arrow. A stick was heard to break under a foot. A branch moved. All bows were draw taut and pointed toward that spot.
"Hold!" Legolas suddenly shouted, urging his horse forward and between the archers and their target. "Hold!"
Bows were instantly lowered.
"Mae govannen, Legolas," cried the erstwhile target. "Mae govannen."
"Mithrandir," exclaimed Legolas. "You are lucky not to have been turned into a pincushion. Are you mad, approaching an armed troop in that manner?"
"Oh, sorry. Careless of me, I suppose. But I am so very weary. I have been trying to shake three Orcs for several days. I have dodged about this way and that, but can't seem to throw them off the scent. You don't suppose I could join your company, do you? I'm sure the Orcs would cease to trouble me if they saw that I was but one rider amongst a large company of armed Elves."
"Rider? I don't see your horse."
"I'm in the market, as it were," replied Gandalf. "But," he added slyly, "I am sure one of those pack horses would do very nicely."
"Yes, if we redistribute the load," Legolas laughed. "But don't you want to know where we are going?"
"Oh, yes, of course. Where are you going?"
"The Grey Havens."
Gandalf looked horrified, and Legolas laughed again. He was beginning to enjoy the reaction he got when he told people he was making for the Grey Havens.
"Don't worry, Mithrandir. I am not departing just yet. My father is sending me there because he hopes I will marry Círdan's niece, who has just come of age."
"Círdan's niece," spluttered Gandalf. "Nonsense! You won't be marrying Círdan's niece."
"I am glad to hear you say that, Mithrandir, and I trust you have it on good authority."
"Yes," huffed Gandalf. "Excellent authority. My own!"
"At any event, now you know where we are going, do you still wish to ride with us?"
"Now more than ever! I have to make sure you don't do anything foolish. I have met Círdan's niece, and she is beautiful and charming. I won't have her bewitching you!"
"You should talk, O Grey Wizard," teased Legolas.
"Yes, but I am a professional," returned Gandalf, who was now smiling.
His smile grew even broader when he learned that Edwen Nana was in the company.
"Really?" he exclaimed, his eyes gleaming. "I have missed her, her, her—her skill with thread and needle! You don't suppose she could be prevailed upon to mend several rents in my garments?"
"I am sure," Legolas replied with a perfectly straight face, "that if you will take your garments off for her, she will be glad to attend to your needs."
"Scamp," growled Gandalf, but her looked about eagerly until he caught her eye, and they exchanged smiles.
The company rode on, still cautious, but they saw no further sign of Orcs, and after a time the Elves relaxed and began to sing and tell stories as they rode. For several days they journeyed in this manner. When they came to the Shire, they skirted the north of that land. Legolas espied Gandalf looking longingly in its direction.
"We cannot stop now, Mithrandir, for we must arrive at the Grey Havens in time for the coming of age celebration for Círdan's niece. But I promise you that on our return, when we are less pressed for time, we shall camp hereabouts for several days so that you have an opportunity to visit your Perian friends."
"Ah, I am much obliged, Legolas. It was for the Shire that I was making when I picked up my Orc followers. You may be sure I did not want to lead my foes there!"
A few days later the company rode into the Grey Havens and drew up before the abode of Círdan, who, as a dutiful host, awaited them. Beside Círdan stood an elleth—his niece, no doubt. Her appearance was striking. Aside from the usual attributes of an Elf—willowy frame, shapely limbs, flawless skin, ethereal face—she had red hair, a color rarely seen amongst Elves, whose tresses were usually either very blonde or very brown, even to the point of blackness. In fact, this elleth was only the second Elf Legolas had ever met who had red hair, the first being Tathar, of course. In fact, Legolas now glanced over at Tathar to see how his friend was reacting to the sight of a red-haired elleth, and he was amused to see that Tathar stood with his mouth hanging open. He caught Tathar's eye, and his friend abruptly closed his mouth, his face suffused with a red flush that was only a little lighter than the color of his hair.
Círdan stepped forward to formally welcome his guests.
"Mae govannen, Legolas Thranduilion, prince of Northern Mirkwood."
"I thank you, Lord Círdan, Master of the Grey Havens. May I present to you Gilglîr, Seneschal to King Thranduil of Northern Mirkwood, Lord Tathar, chief amongst my advisors, and Edwen Nana, first amongst Naneth. We are accompanied also, as you see, by Master Mithrandir, high amongst the ranks of the Istar who serve Middle-earth."
Legolas had never referred to Tathar as a 'Lord', and that Elf, whose face had resumed its former color, now blushed anew.
Círdan solemnly acknowledged each guest with a bow and then introduced the elleth who accompanied him.
"I would like to present to you my niece, Caranlass, who has been visiting with me these past several months."
'Red leaf', thought Legolas, amused. Truly the name suited the red-haired elleth. He offered his arm to the maiden, as was expected, and followed Círdan into the hall.
For the remainder of the day, Legolas exchanged pleasantries with Círdan and Caranlass. The other members of his party were meanwhile suitably housed—Legolas made sure to ask that Gandalf and Edwen Nana be placed in adjacent chambers.
"Edwen Nana always likes to have someone to look after," he told Círdan, "and Mithrandir doesn't mind humoring her."
"How noble of him," Círdan said dryly. It seems that rumors of Edwen Nana and Gandalf had been carried to the Grey Havens by departing Elves. But Círdan did order that Edwen Nana and Gandalf be so accommodated.
That evening the company was reunited for dinner. Throughout the meal, Tathar ate little. He kept craning his neck about to gaze upon Caranlass. For her part, she seemed to be similarly afflicted, pushing at her food with a silver spoon and glancing repeatedly toward the end of the table where Tathar sat. No doubt she, like Tathar, had never before seen any red-haired Elf besides herself.
After the meal, when they had a few moments alone, Legolas decided to feel out Tathar on the subject of the red-haired elleth.
"What did you think of Caranlass?" asked Legolas in the most neutral voice he could muster.
"Charming," enthused Tathar, "absolutely charming!"
Legolas fought hard to keep from grinning. Was it possible, he thought, that Tathar would somehow contrive to remove a certain young elleth from the 'eligible' column of his father's list of matrimonial prospects? He certainly hoped so!
Edwen Nana also was not slow to notice the interest that the young elleth had for the young ellon, and vice versa. She of course wanted Legolas to be well-married, but she had equally compelling reasons for wishing happiness upon Tathar. She thus found herself bewildered—eager to play matchmaker, but unsure which match she ought to forward. In her quandary, she sought out Gandalf—although she did not have far to go.
"Mithrandir," she said one night. "Have you noticed that Tathar keeps staring at Caranlass, and Caranlass keeps gazing back at him?"
Gandalf had his face buried in the pillow, and all Edwen Nana could make out in reply was, "Mmmph." She yanked the pillow out from under his head.
"Madam," cried Gandalf, "are you never satisfied?"
"As I am immortal," retorted Edwen Nana, "I don't see how I ever shall be—but that goes for you, too, I assume."
"You'll be sorry if you rouse my ire."
"I only want to briefly rouse your tongue."
"Really! You've never wanted that before!"
"I said rouse your tongue, not arouse your tongue. You are not a very cunning linguist."
"That's for want of practice, not desire," grumbled Gandalf. "Well, what have you woken me up for?"
"Tathar and Caranlass."
"Oh? What troubles you about the Willow and the Red-leaf?"
"Haven't you noticed how they gaze one upon the other?"
"I have."
"Don't you find that to be interesting?"
"Not especially. It is the nature of ellyn to gaze upon ellith, and vice versa."
"Yes, and such looks of longing sometimes lead to marriage."
"Have you some reason to believe that in this case it will?"
"No-oo, but don't you think a marriage in this instance would be a desirable outcome?"
"Sleep would be a desirable outcome," growled Gandalf.
"Oh, yes, of course, sleep. Tathar sleeping with Caranlass."
"Then he won't get much sleep, will he!"
"I should hope not!"
Gandalf groaned.
"Madam, what exactly is it that you want of me?"
"At the moment? Advice."
Gandalf sat up.
"It seems I shall get no sleep myself until I have satisfied you."
"First of all," said Edwen Nana briskly, now that she had Gandalf's full attention, "if Tathar were to marry Caranlass, then Caranlass couldn't marry Legolas. Perhaps we ought to discourage Tathar so that the field is clear for Legolas."
"Tell me, Edwen Nana, has Legolas been staring at Caranlass?"
"No."
"Has Caranlass been staring at Legolas?"
"No."
"So we have one pair of Elves that is staring ardently, and another pair that is staring not at all. Edwen Nana, I think there is little likelihood of Legolas marrying Caranlass, regardless of the wishes of his father."
"Then there would be no harm in encouraging Tathar and Caranlass?"
"Do they need encouragement? I had thought that in such cases encouragement would be redundant."
"True, in most instances, but remember that Tathar knows that Thranduil wishes Legolas to marry Caranlass. He is not likely to put himself forward."
"Hmmm. Very well. Does not Tathar spend considerable time each day in the garden?"
"Yes. That is how he occupies himself whilst Legolas squires Caranlass about."
"Next time ever Tathar is in the garden, you make sure that Legolas escorts Caranlass there. I'll take care of the rest—or, rather, Tathar will take care of the rest once I make sure that he has an opportunity to do so."
"Ah, hannon-le, Mithrandir!"
"Don't mention it. Are you satisfied now, Madam?"
"Not entirely," murmured Edwen Nana, a familiar spark kindled in her eye. She pushed Gandalf back down upon the bed. Gandalf pretended to groan, but in truth, a similar spark had flared in his own eyes. Ai! At this point in the tale, the chronicles fall silent, and thus, Reader, so must I.
Mwah hah hah. I am sooo evil.