AN HEROIC LOVE
Chapter Seven
Elladan's Tale Part Four
GILWEN'S JOURNAL
Fifth Entry
FA 2 Imladris
How different this visit to Imladris is from my first. Where once we came in stealth and fear, this time we rode openly and were met on the path by Elladan himself. He strode forth, welcoming father and me, and grasped the reins of my horse as he walked with us to the gates of the house.
I will never forget my first glimpse of him. His boots and leggings were black, but this time he wore a white tunic, cuffed at the wrists, but with billowing sleeves and two ties at the neck. His hair flowed down his back, and was held at the sides by two small braids that were held together by a mithril clip in the form of an owl.
He led us to the house, a wide smile upon his face and spoke excitedly about the events that would occur over the next few days. He told us that hobbits would be in attendance, as well as some dwarves and laughed when my eyes widened at the prospect of meeting such folk.
When we arrived at the front steps I hesitated for a moment. When last we were here I had only seen the house at arm's length and this time I wanted to be still for a time and look more closely. I think Elladan understood my brief pause and allowed me the time to orient myself.
Finally though, he offered me his arm and he drew us inside, and while walking the long entranceway pointed out the rooms as we passed. I saw the Hall of Fire, which he explained was a central meeting place where tales were told and music was played. He showed us the dining area and a few smaller alcoves but stopped at the last door. This, he explained was the way to the library, but he asked father's leave to take me there later. They both knew that the library was the place I most wanted to see and I sensed a small conspiracy in making me wait.
At last, Elladan led us to the grand stairway and took us upstairs to show us to our rooms. First, he took father into a room with a large bed and wardrobe, and a small table and chairs. Off the room was a balcony and at the back a door, which led, Elladan explained, to a private bathing area. The colors were rich, dark blues and here and there were carved flowers of gold. Elladan explained that this had been the room of Lord Glorfindel, who he spoke of with reverence. He promised to later tell me more of the Elf-lord. Though the room itself was lovely and the furniture beautifully wrought, it was the bathing chamber that truly astonished me.
A private bathing area? While we had perhaps one bathing area in our homes at Annúminas, a private one for a single person was unheard of. When Elladan noticed my wonderment, he explained that my rooms also contained one such as this. He was amused, I think, by my delight at what to him must seem such a small thing.
His smile widened as he led us to the room that would be mine for our stay. These, he explained, were rooms fit for a Princess – my eyes narrowed at the title, but he held up a finger bidding me to hold my tongue. Then winking at me, added,
"Or for a Queen, for these were my sister's rooms when she abided here."
Like father's, this room was large and held a fireplace and a canopy bed. There was also a small writing desk, a wardrobe and a small dressing table with a mirror. This room too had a balcony and the door at the back which led to the bathing chamber.
But it was the rich fabrics and colors that held my eyes. Surrounding the bed were curtains of burgundy velvet and on the bed a coverlet of various patches – brocades of light pink and gold, celery green silk and the same burgundy velvet as the curtains.
There were pillows of the same fabrics and on the walls tapestries, finely woven. The whole feel of the room was of warmth and comfort and I laughed inwardly at the thought that once I took to the bed that evening I might not want to leave it.
He showed me the bathing area and taught me how to use the levers to obtain both hot and cold water. Again, this was something I had not seen. Any hot water that was used in our baths had to be brought in by buckets. I made a note to myself to learn how this was done for I wanted to share this with the people in Annúminas.
Elladan left us to unpack and refresh ourselves and gave us leave to explore the Last Homely House on our own. Of course, father had been here many times and was familiar with the public rooms and the grounds, so he offered to walk with me. Elladan did make one further request – he wished that he himself be the one to show me the library and that he would do after the evening meal.
Once they had left and I found myself alone, I crept onto the bed and lay down for a while. I fingered the rich fabrics and held on to the pillows and I marveled at how things had changed in just a short time. I once slept where I could, on beds made of straw, and now lay on the bed of a Queen.
Once we had rested, father escorted me through the gardens and I felt again the contentment that was so part of my last visit here.
Things had changed of course. No longer did Lord Elrond or other high elves walk these halls and I felt a small pang of sorrow at that, but their presence was felt in the things they had built and left here and there still remained a certain ethereal quality to it all. But unlike my first sojourn where all was serious and still, this time I heard sounds of laughter and conversation in many different tongues and the courtyards and hallways teemed with all races of free folk.
It seemed to me to reflect Elladan himself – full of life and vitality and the promise of a future where hope and peace and renewal abounded.
About an hour before dinner, father deposited me at my door there to ready myself for the evening meal. I grinned widely, remembering that I had brought two new dresses and I knew which one I would wear. I brought it out of the wardrobe and laid it out on the bed. Next to it I placed my clean undergarments and shoes, and finally laid on top the only piece of jewelry I would wear.
Satisfied with the array, I went to the bath and began running the hot water, remembering what Elladan had taught me. He had also invited me to make use of any of the bathing lotions and oils and powders there were lined up on the shelf. I chose one of the more subtle scents, vaguely crisp and refreshing – the smell of athelas. It immediately awakened my senses and I felt invigorated as I sunk down into the warm water.
I found myself giggling and then laughing as I moved through the water, dipping my head into it and swirling my hair – infusing each strand with its strengthening aroma. I then straightened up, wide-eyed at my own lapse of seriousness. I wondered what had come over me, but found I was unable to erase the satisfied grin from my face. Hugging myself and stepping out of the bath, I knew what had come over me and took a deep breath. I stood stock still for a moment while I considered what my heart just admitted.
I found myself blushing and in that moment everything changed for me. I shook my head soundly and tried to come to the present, but I felt as if I were a different person altogether. Slowly I brought the brush to my hair and with long stokes drew it through the dark tresses. It calmed me and as I looked in the mirror and saw my face emerge through the curtain of hair, I could not help but grin wider. My eyes fairly sparkled and I liked what I saw, where I was, what I anticipated.
Hair dry, I got up from the dressing table and donned the undergarments I had laid out. Then came the dress and I laced the sides tightly, cinching the waist. It was made of black silk, which my father had obtained from Mithlond and the bodice scooped just to my cleavage and the long sleeves were slightly flared at the ends. The trim at the neck and the sleeves was of silver thread and here and there a small rayed star was embroidered among the filigree scrollwork. The skirt flared out at the bottom and the hem was slightly longer in back creating a small train. I slipped on the black shoes and finished dressing my hair.
This night I wore it unbound and the brown strands looked even darker than usual. It framed my face nicely; I thought and felt full, clean as it was. The scent of the athelas was released with every stroke of the brush and I was enveloped by its bracing aroma.
At last I slipped the small fillet of silver over the crown of my head and centered the many pointed star that it held in the back. It had been a gift from father and was like to that worn by the Dúnedain Rangers of the North. Satisfied with how it looked, I smoothed the hair under it and got up from the table. A small pot of glimmering silver powder which sat on the table caught my eye and on a whim, I swiped some of it over my eye lids.
I twirled around twice, laughing mirthfully at this new found feeling of girlishness, but was stilled by a knock on the door. My father's voice boomed from beyond it,
"Are you ready, daughter?"
"I think so, father. Please, come in."
He opened the door and the look on his face stopped me. I smiled wryly letting my father know that I knew what he saw and with a flourish I took his arm. He too never looked more handsome to me. Dressed in his best Dúnedain black, the star pinned to his shoulder, I thought he looked every inch a Prince of the realm and told him so.
He laughed then and holding me at arm's length, took a good look. He pronounced me fine, and never did I feel so highly complimented. I laughed as we walked arm in arm to the dining area.
Once we came to the threshold of that great room, I took hold of myself and tried to present a serene face as we entered. Grasping my father's arm tightly, I drew a long breath and we walked into the room.
For a moment I was taken aback by the gaiety and loudness of the folk there gathered, but then my eyes danced at the sight laid before me. All sorts of free folk talked together; hobbit to dwarf, dwarf to man, elf to hobbit. But then as my eyes drifted left, the noise and all others fell away from my senses as I watched the Lord of Imladris approach us.
Oh Valar. I thought I might drop to my knees, but father's strong arm and Elladan's mithril eyes held me fast and as he approached, I felt myself gulp. He held my eyes as he walked and I saw in them a soft recognition. Then he was before us, welcoming father and then stepping back, appraising me mildly. He leaned in then, whispering as he took my arm,
"You are beautiful, Gilwen."
"And you are handsome, dark Prince."
And, oh my, he was. Again he wore black, but this time the boots were of soft suede as were his leggings. The tunic was made of black silk and under it he wore an iridescent silver shirt, the tall banded collar framing his face and the fall of obsidian hair. Two small braids held it back and a circlet of mithril rested lightly on his crown. A similar interlinked mithril belt cinched his waist which tightened the fabric around his muscled frame, emphasizing the fine planes and long sinews of his warrior's body.
He led us to the table, seating father on his right and me on his left. At once, the kitchen doors opened and platters upon platters of foodstuffs were laid before us. I laughed as I heard the small whoops from the hobbit's table and Elladan explained that there was little that hobbits appreciated more than a fine meal. He pointed out Merry and then Pippin and at last Sam and he assured me that he would make introductions later. He then started naming the dwarves and the elves and the men who were in attendance from Gondor.
I finally bade him to stop as I knew I could not remember them all and he laughed as he poured some more wine in my glass.
The men stood then, leaving their seats to face west and we all silently recited the prayer that had been known to me since childhood.
"Toward Numenor that was, and beyond to Elvenhome that is, and to that which is beyond Elvenhome and will ever be."
Once again seated, the platters were passed and the noise rose again, the din of the voices of all free folk rising up through the rafters. It was so joyous to be here, all well met and with a purpose and future in mind.
I was suddenly stilled when under the table I felt a soft hand brushing mine. I turned to its source and looked questioningly into silver gray eyes.
"The meal is nearly over and soon most will retire to the Hall of Fire for music and tales, and while I would not have you miss it, there are other nights that you will be here. Tonight, if you wish it, I would show you the library."
"Yes, I would like that, Elladan. Very much," I replied, but my affirmative answer belied the nervousness that I held deep inside. We would be alone together, not for the first time, but with a difference. And it was the difference that so daunted me.
Asking father's leave, Elladan then offered me his arm. Taking it with a confidence I did not feel, he led me out of the room.
We walked down the hallway, light glimmering from the wall sconces and when we reached the entranceway to the library, Elladan stopped. Stepping behind me, he placed his hands over my eyes and bade me move forward two steps. I shivered at his touch and did as he asked.
"Now, I will remove my hands, but keep your eyes closed. I will light a few candles and then bid you to open them. Are you alright, Gilwen?"
I shook my head yes and felt him move away and heard the small snick of flint meeting flint. I heard him move across the room and I followed the sounds with my head. He bade me to open my eyes but when I did, it was not the books or the statuary or the room itself that I saw. It was Elladan. Framed by two lighted sconces, he looked like nothing but one of the Valar to me.
I shrunk back for a moment, suddenly shaken, but saw his grin widen as he arched one perfectly shaped eyebrow. I laughed then and was grateful for his method of diffusing the tension between us.
He chuckled as he explained that such was a trait of his father's also and many were the times that he and his brother were the recipients of one sternly raised brow.
Finally looking at the room about me, I marveled at all of the alcoves and niches that were filled with books and scrolls. Elladan was sorry he said, that I had not seen the library in its true splendor, for many of the most ancient and rare of the tomes had gone with his father to the West. Still, I loved the look of it and the feel – so much history here - and the welcome smell of old paper and ink.
We moved here and there while Elladan explained the room's contents and then beckoning me closer, said,
"And I have saved the best for last, Dúnedain Princess, for not only the history of the elves resides here. Allow me to show you some of your own."
He led me into a hallway, the walls of which were covered by murals. They depicted scenes from the Last Battle of Elves and Men, he explained, and showed me the one of the meeting of Elendil and Gil-Galad at Amon Sûl.
"Ever have our peoples worked together against the Dark Enemy. Even through the years of estrangement, my house and yours have kept the Alliance. And now your Chieftain and my sworn brother is King and we are all reunited once more. Aragorn saw done what Isildur could not and the strength of men has been renewed."
He showed me the mural of Isildur and the Dark Lord and then turned me around to face a statue holding an empty tray.
"And here lay Narsil Elendil's sword, broken and untouched for these many years until it was remade and Aragorn took it up and renamed it Andúril. He bears it still and with it opened the pathway for the hobbit's success and the Great Enemy's final defeat."
For a moment I saw a strange resolve pass through Elladan, but it fled quickly as we moved to the courtyard beyond.
Seated now, Elladan held my gaze as he took my hand into his. Ithil-lit eyes bored into mine and I found myself trembling.
We both knew what would come next, but I had never done this before – well, not since I was a child and played innocent games with my friends. I closed my eyes against the feeling that assailed me and then heard his voice, gently calling,
"Gilwen. Gilwen, will you not look at me?"
"I am not sure I can." I heard myself answer, one eye opening, "I have never, I mean, I do not know…"
"Ah," he sighed out. "I understand. Please do not fear me, fair Gilwen. I would not hurt you nor ask of you anything you do not want. I merely wish to steal a kiss. Please look at me."
I opened my eyes and saw the gentleness in his kind regard of me. Taking both of my hands now and holding them lightly, he asked,
"May I?"
"Yes"
And then I felt his lips softly brush mine. A chaste kiss he gave me, so gentle and so light that I barely felt it.
I closed my eyes, expecting more, but then he moved slightly back and I heard his voice at my ear, warm breath tickling the sensitive skin there,
"Oh no, my fair Gilwen. Your lips are soft and you taste sweet and the way Ithil shines on your hair and your face are most enticing, but I dare no more at this time."
He rested his cheek against mine for a moment as I sighed a long slow exhalation of breath.
He rose then and held his hand out to me,
"Come my fair Dúnadan, the hour is late and I would not have your father worry for you. We have many days yet to walk and talk together."
Taking his hand, I got up from the bench and took one last long look at the murals around me.
Elladan gently reminded me that they would still be here on the morrow and also gave me leave to wander the library at my will and to make use of all that I found there.
He walked with me down the long hallway and up the stairs to my room. Here he paused for a moment and I again found my voice,
"This has been wonderful evening for me, Elladan. Already I have seen and experienced more new things than I ever have and well…"
I brought my fingers to his lips and touched them softly as I finished my thought,
"I shall not soon forget what happened this night, and though I am tired, I fear I will find little sleep…"
"Rest well, Gilwen. Think of this as you close your eyes…"
He leaned forward and with mirth in his eyes, again touched my lips with the perfect bow of his own.
He opened the door and gently pushed me inside, saying,
"Now will you sleep?"
"I strongly doubt it," was my answer.
"Nor will I," he replied as he walked down the hall…
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