Chapter Seven:
Current Mood: drunk
Current Music: Minor Swing- Chocolat soundtrack (feat. Johnny Depp)
That was quite unexpected. I was sure Mirien would be unwelcoming and that my trip would be rather miserable, but I was mistaken. I admit, I find myself drawn to her - there is something about her that is not like the others. Perhaps it is her Silvan heritage, for she is so different. The elves in Lorien...they are so painfully stoic, so weighted by the cares of the Noldor that they forget to live the life Illuvatar has given them. Mirien and the others...they truly love life. There is such spirit among them; I find myself fascinated by everything about them. It is...infectious.
I will never survive this trip, not like this. Especially now that I have been invited to evening meal in her cabin. One thing I am sure of – tonight will be interesting.
Haldir paused for a moment outside the door to Mirien's cabin. He could hear laughing and talking behind the door and some strange music that he'd never heard before. Slowly his hand reached for the door to open it, but just as he was about to touch the handle he pulled back as if burned. He knocked hard on the wood surface.
The door swung open almost immediately, as if the other was waiting for his arrival. He found himself staring into the pale green eyes of the she-elf who held the door open. She had been laughing at some joke that had been told and the smile still lightened her features, though dimmed when she saw his expression. He took a moment to look her over, take in her travel-worn clothes and hair a color of which he had never seen. It seemed as copper streaked with gold, and it hung neatly braided down her back. She smiled at him and laughed.
"You must be Haldir," she pronounced. "I am Cariell, ship's Armorer." At his bewildered expression she stepped aside with a grin to allow him access to the welcoming room.
The inside was a fairly large room made somewhat smaller by the presence of a large table dominating its centre. Many elves sat around it, Haldir counted eleven including himself, eating and drinking, laughing and talking. Cariell all but pulled him inside, for in his astonishment he hadn't moved at all. He scanned the faces and realised that he knew very few. The two he did know sat at the head of the long table – Mirien and Doran, her second officer. As he caught sight of her she waved and beaconed him over to the empty seat beside her. He made his way over to it, feeling somewhat out of place in the carefree atmosphere of the party. He'd been to many dinner parties before in Lorien, but those were usually calm, subdued affairs where one would closely watch one's every move and choose words with care and precision. This was altogether a different sort of party. Already he caught sight of the wine bottles that littered the table.
"Not quite what you were expecting, is it?" asked Mirien beside him as she leaned over to fill his wine glass. He looked around him with a smile, becoming accustomed to the noise around him and adjusting the volume of his voice accordingly.
"It certainly is...different," he admitted. She grinned at him and took a long sip of her own wine before answering.
"We do things a little differently in Mirkwood," she said. "I love Lorien truly, but once I leave it I feel as if I can breathe again." She laughed lightly at her words, but he heard the truth in them. Indeed, a change had come over her since they'd left the woods. He was finally seeing who she really was, not that he'd known her for long before. He felt the easy camaraderie of the friends and shipmates around him like a warm hug, feeling also that within this room, there was no separation of rank or caste, only friends. Here one could really relax. The feeling was intoxicating.
The evening went smoothly, Haldir thoroughly enjoying both food and company. Cariell, he learned, was not of Mirkwood or of Lorien. She was from a small group of nomad elves that had originally lived in Hollin by the Misty Mountains, but were driven away by circumstance. She said that while some had travelled West to sail over the sea, her people split off from the main group. Eventually they settled by the shores of the Celduin that feeds into the Sea of Rhun, East of Mirkwood, and developed close ties with the dwarves of the Iron Hills.
"I learned all I know of weapons-craft from them," she said, "and it has been put to good use here."
"I was not aware that this ship required weapons," said Haldir. Mirien drew his attention.
"We have, on occasion, engaged the odd band of Orcs when we found them," she said, "but Cariell is not only charged with arms. She sees to the care and maintenance of Airëlussa. She is invaluable to me," she finished with a warm smile in the other woman's direction.
The evening wore on, and the wine flowed freely. Many times throughout the dinner songs would rise from the group when the musicians, which he now saw clearly in a well-lit corner of the room, would play a familiar tune. When the meal ended the table was cleared and put away, opening the room for dancing. The music slowed and mellowed as several of the elves paired off. Haldir, having felt the effects of the wine clouding his head, had retreated to a corner of the room to watch the others. He noticed one couple in particular, dancing quite slowly and quite closely. He took another sip of his wine as he looked on, feeling something strange in his heart as he did – jealousy.
Mirien and Doran had been the first to claim the dance floor and seemed not to notice anyone else in the room. The others knew well of their deep friendship, and that it was purely platonic, more as siblings than anything else, though Haldir new nothing of this. They spoke quietly together as they danced, her arms linked behind his head and his around her waist, pulling her close to him. She was telling him of Ameron and all that had happened while she was with him in Lorien, and he in turn spoke reassuring words to soothe her fears and doubts. To Haldir, however, they appeared as two lovers whispering sweet nothings to each other as they swayed together to the romantic music. It was too much for him.
He watched, his eyes burning as Doran caressed her soft face, their lips coming tantalisingly closer, but then withdrawing in the same moment. He knew that his irrational feelings were most likely a result of the wine and that he simply had no right to feel such jealousy but he cared not, instead watching all the more intently. Mirien moved her face closer, until they were now dancing cheek to cheek, and they were whispering in each other's ear. His hands came up to caress her shoulders and she held him tighter with her arms behind him.
"You look tired," a voice suddenly broke into his thoughts, causing him to jump in surprise. Cariell sat beside him with a grin. "This is your first time at one of our dinners. You lasted longer than many."
"What is Mirien's relationship to Doran?" he blurted out, nearly cutting her off. She grinned and looked to her commanding officers.
"You like her, don't you?" she said. He looked down into his wine glass.
"Is it that obvious?" he muttered. She patted him on the shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly.
"Don't worry, I won't tell a soul," she said. "But I recommend you find your bed before you learn what too much wine is like." She stood and helped him to his feet, escorting him to the door. On the other side of the room, Mirien looked up from Doran's shoulder and watched him go.