Standing together before the looming mass of mankind, elfkind, and beasts of burdon Merry and Pippin were dwarfed even more than usual. Their tiny forms were small enough to fit easily beneath the immense expanse of Dagorgon's underbelly. As they tried to decide how best to begin the race, they began to bicker.
"We don't need a banner, Pip. All we have to do is tell them when to go."
"Yes, but it would be better if we used a banner."
"No, Pippin. By the time we made a banner, no one will want to race anymore."
"Well can I at least make one to signal the end of the race?" Pippin asked, his little hopes rising and falling on the prospect of a banner.
"I don't care, Pip. Right now, let's just concentrate on starting the race." Merry sighed in exasperation.
"Ready? Set? Go!" Pippin shouted to the riders before turning back to Merry. "Can I make the banner, now, Merry?"
The riders were so amused by their idle bickering that it took a few seconds to register when Pippin called out for the race to begin. They turned from one to the other in confusion before Elrohir took the initiative and took off in a thunder of hooves. Not to be left in the dust, the others were hot on his trail.
"Pippin!" Merry complained. "We were supposed to do it together."
"Oh. Well then you should have told them to go. I only want to make the banner." Pippin chirped, completely oblivious to Merry's frustration.
Merry could only grumble his irritation as he took a perch on the stable fence to await the return of the riders. Pippin happily recruited the help of several elf bystanders to create his banner. They were easily overcome by his Hobbit charms.
The thunder of hooves was immense as the riders flew through the street. Those unwitting to the race were quick to leap from the path as they stormed through. They had begun in a cluster, but some were forced to fall back in order to accommodate the narrowing path. Elrohir rode several paces in front of the rest. Behind in close succession was Aragorn astride Nadu, Elladan upon Lothvalthen, Arwen on Glawenor, and finally Lúthien riding Gilleth. She could tell Gilleth was frustrated to be in last, riding so hard on the tails of the other horses that she was in danger of crossing hooves with Glawenor.
"Easy, my friend." Lúthien soothed. "Save your strength for open ground."
Gilleth conceded, easing her fruitless strain. She settled into a steady canter behind the others, waiting for her chance to open up and beat the earth with merciless hooves. Before long, the end of the row was in sight, and all the horses picked up speed in anticipation. In that instant, Elrohir cried out in horror.
"Mithrandir, gangway!" He shouted, jerking Dagorgon sharply to the side as Lúthien watched him just barely avoid running over a hunched old man.
The fragile old man shouted in alarm as he pressed himself against the wall of the last elfin building on the row. He hadn't expected to turn the corner directly into the path of a stampede. He seemed only slightly put off by the unexpected surprise as a gentle smile tugged his lips. Lúthien watched as each of the riders slowed, the old man strongly commanding their attention. The horses obeyed their riders, but barely. They were still intent to keep running. For a moment, Lúthien thought the race would stop for this old man. The looks he received from the others made it clear they knew and loved him well. She could see the obvious deliberation on the others' faces as they debated whether to stop and greet the old man, or keep racing. Elrohir seemed to make the final decision, since he was in the lead, as he raced on. The others followed suit and the race picked up again, twice as fast as before now that they'd reached open ground. Stubborn and determined by nature, Gilleth set a brutal pace for herself. She beat the earth, Lúthien clutching tightly to her back with her beautiful blue dress whipping behind her. Doing her best to keep the light material from rising up shamefully, she resorted to tucking the material beneath her thighs. Even so, the hem was slowly creeping passed her knees. As Gilleth pulled even with Glawenor, she noted Arwen was having much the same problem. She halfheartedly cursed the men, their pants, and their impromptu challenge.
"You must ride faster, my friend. You fall too far behind your beloved Aragorn." Lúthien called over in amusement, playfully encouraging Arwen to speed up.
"Nay. It is he who rides too far ahead of me." Arwen joked back.
They laughed together a moment, and the sight was undeniably enchanting. It was a scene from a painting; two unspeakably beautiful women riding bareback upon dazzling mares, their lustrous hair and stately dresses flowing behind them, creamy legs slightly exposed by their swift speeds, and a look of utter delight upon both faces. To any man, Arwen's beauty was irresistible and exotic. Chiseled feminine features shaped her face; high arching cheekbones and a graceful forehead surrounded sparkling, almond shaped crystalline blue eyes shadowed by lush black lashes. Framing those enticing eyes were delicate, crested brows that gave her lovely eyes an almost feline quality. Set just below her small, slender nose were lush, rosy lips. Contrasting beautifully with the enticing rouge of her lips, the brilliant blue of her eyes, and the deep rich color of her dark hair was her creamy porcelain skin. It was flawless and almost seemed to glow with ethereal health in even poor lighting.
Lúthien's beauty was a different kind, but no less captivating. Much like Arwen, she had rich dark hair and creamy porcelain skin. Unlike Arwen's exotic elfin features, however, Lúthien's facial structure was more delicate. Her chin, cheekbones, and forehead all had a soft, rounded shape. She had a small button nose that could only be described as cute. Set just above were large, grey doe eyes framed by a thick forest of lashes and high rounded brows. Her plump lips were soft pink and lightly upturned at the corners, giving her mouth a slight pout. Her beauty was an unnatural sort, too fine to be human. However, her features were also too unlike those of the elves as well.
That was the reason so many had been captivated by her beauty. There was no question why a human would desire her greatly. She was a rose among dandelions. As for the elves, it was her singular and unique beauty. All elves were like roses, glorious in their beauty. Arwen was particularly radiant among them, like the reddest of red rosebuds in full bloom and kissed with shimmering dew, paling all others in comparison. Elf beauty was tried and true. From the dank forests of Mirkwood to the enchanted waters of Rivindell, their entire like shared great similarities in their elfin features. Small differences allowed for individuality, but there was no question that an elf was an elf at just a glance. Lúthien's beauty was something entirely different, like flawed perfection. There were humans with button noses, round faces, and every mutation of eye color imaginable, but their features had always been ungainly in proportion and appearance. Lúthien had somehow been made with a variation of those features into something entirely new and beautiful.
Perhaps a shift in the ph balance of the soil or a bungling bumblebee had caused the mutation. Perhaps a little of both. Whatever the case, she was still a rose created from dandelions, and among other roses, she was a rose of another color. Among the elves, she was a single white rose in a bed of red roses. She was not kissed with shimmering dew like the most beautiful buds in bloom, but she was the single fleck of white amidst red that could catch and hold one's gaze simply for the fact that it was singular. She was also unlike the other roses in that her petals would only blossom for a single season while all others lived on, but that could only serve to make her bloom more precious. A strange mutation like hers was not likely to occur more than once in an era.
As Gilleth raced on, it became evident to Lúthien that she had no intent to linger near the rear of the race any longer. She began to pull away from Arwen and Glawenor steadily, leaving Lúthien to call back to her friend before she was too far to away. "I will see you at the finish, my friend."
Arwen replied in turn. "Indeed. I trust you to cow my dear brother's ego. It already grows so large I fear he may one day topple headlong."
Lúthien laughed in good nature as Arwen poked gentle fun at her brother, but understood well that Arwen was encouraging her to take on Elrohir at the head. Arwen was wishing her to win the race, and she knew Gilleth would do her best to see it done. The proof of Gilleth's determination was in the putting as she doggedly made her way closer to Elladan upon Lothvalthen, who at the moment was also riding ever closer to Aragorn atop Nadu as he drew even nearer to Elrohir on Dagorgon. As Gilleth's muzzle drew even with Lothvalthen's croup, the golden shimmering mare seemed to realize it and cut Gilleth off accordingly. Cross, but not cowed, Gilleth tried again on the other side. Again, the stunning mare cut her short. Gilleth was growing irritated with the female equine as she realized Lothvalthen was intent to keep her back. Her behavior seemed too backhanded in a fair race, and Gilleth decided to reward the mare with similar unfairness. As Gilleth made to pass once again, and Lothvalthen began to cut her off as before, Gilleth let loose a furious whinny before snapping her head toward the other female in order to nip her rump. Startled, Lothvalthen skittered sharply to the side, her pace becoming erratic in alarm, causing her to fall back just behind Arwen and Glawenor. It was a warning from Gilleth to Lothvalthen, not for the race but in general. She didn't know or care why this other mare was playing dirty, but she was not about to take any flak.
Unseen by Gilleth, Lothvalthen was spurned. Had these two horses been cats instead, the claws would have been out and fur would already have been flying. The tension between then was thick, at least from Lothvalthen's end. She did not like the idea of a new mare just strolling into the stables and getting so much attention from Dagorgon. She had always been his favorite mare, and intended to keep it that way. If Gilleth continued to attract Dagorgon's attention the way she had today, Lothvalthen would see to it that they had it out, claws or not.
As the horses continued round in a broad circle around Rivindell, Lúthien could plainly see how quickly they were coming upon the waterfall. They had made their way from the last in line to the middle and the race was almost half over already. The waterfall was now only a straightaway ahead and coming up fast, and Lúthien's gut churned in anticipation. She was both exhilarated by the thought of riding through its waters and dreading the probable cold. Of course, she couldn't and wouldn't back down, now. Honestly, she was having too much fun. She never pictured herself racing wildly on bareback with elves and a man around an elfin city. Now that she was doing it, she would not let a moment pass or a single memory of it all fade. She had been making nothing but precious memories since she'd come here. She would never forget Arwen's sweet company, Aragorn's soothing presence, Elrohir's Cheshire grin, or Elladan's kind demeanor. She would never forget the hobbits' amusing antics, Lord Elrond's welcoming grace, or the sweet little hobbit that still slept in limbo in the healer's marquee. This was all a once-in-a-lifetime experience for her and she would never let the memories or their feelings slip away, even in the decaying days of her last years of life.
As they were almost upon the waterfall, its hum rose from the constant and soothing rush one heard in the city to the deafening roar of pummeling water. The spray from the base traveled on the fair breeze and misted their faces as they rounded about the pooling water that lead away into a steady stream. Lúthien regarded Aragorn on Nadu and Elrohir on Dagorgon as they traveled the path that would lead them under the falls. As they both disappeared into the spray, she realized quickly that there was a sort of alcove formed between the rocks of the wall that formed the falls and the actual water itself. Following them in, she let slip a small squeal of glee as the chill waters washed over her. The first thing that struck her once she'd cleared the water was the beauty of the little recess. Considering it was so close to a fall, she was surprised how dry it was inside. She was also taken by the display of shimmering light caused by the sun filtering through the dancing waters of the fall. The next thing that grabbed at her was the sound. It was a sort of muffled echo that seemed both hushed and deafening. The sound of the rushing water and clicking hooves sounded so odd in that moment that she felt the sudden intense urge to rub at her ears, as though they might be fooling her somehow. She'd never heard such resonance before. Watching as Aragorn and Elrohir shot side by side back through the waters out of the alcove, she heard Elladan and Arwen follow her in from behind. She was amused as Arwen, too, let out a little scream at the feel of the chill water. As she was about to follow Aragorn and Elrohir out, she made a promise to herself that she would come back to enjoy the beauty of this little secret some more. Then she was washed with the fall of water once more and back into the glow of midday.
Shivering slightly as the wind chilled the already cold water against her body, she was glad that the sun was so warm on her skin. Goose bumps prickled as the feeling of the warm air and hot sun mixed with the feel of cold water and cool breeze on her skin. It was a pleasurable sensation as a little shudder racked her body and her eyes fluttered in pleasure. It was moments like this that made her feel most alive. Looking up ahead, she regarded Elrohir and Aragorn. They weren't too far ahead, but Aragorn seemed to be pulling into the lead, now.
"Come now, Gilleth. We must make haste. Once we leave these open grounds, it will be near impossible to pass them."
Registering and acknowledging what Lúthien had said, Gilleth opened up in a full burst of speed. She had abandoned her run and taken up her top sprint. She now gained Dagorgon and Nadu with incredible speed. Her chest heaved and breath huffed with the effort. All the horses seemed to follow Gilleth's example as they drew closer to the final stretch of open ground, the streets of Rivindell coming within sight. Arwen, who had apparently been saving Glawenor's energy finally allowed the mare to open up. Lúthien cried out in excitement as they were almost upon Aragorn and Elrohir, now.
"Keep going, Gilleth! We can pass them." She encouraged, leaning forward in anticipation as they closed in on the leaders of the race. In no time, she pulled even with Aragorn, who had seemed to allow himself to fall back by not opening up Nadu into a sprint like the other riders. Lúthien regarded him in a warm, but challenging smile in the spirit of the race. He returned her smile with a knowing little smile of his own, seeming utterly unfazed that she was passing him. Lúthien wondered at it a moment, but put it out of her mind, deciding that perhaps he hasn't putting as much into this race as Elrohir had. Focusing on her last obstacle, she urged Gilleth on. The streets of Rivindell were almost upon them. If she did not pass the massive Dagorgon, now, there would be no chance of it once the streets narrowed. Racing with all her might, Gilleth formed a sheen of sweat on her pelt as her muzzle came within inches of Dagorgon's croup. Agonizingly, her muzzle inched up passed his flank. Then they were even. The horses sized each other up as the riders did the same.
"I'm very flattered that you have come to visit me, dear Lúthien." Elrohir charmed.
"I came by request of your sister. She would like very much for me to diminish your ego." Lúthien grinned, pulling ahead slightly.
"What ego?" Elrohir joked in mock confusion.
Lúthien only giggled as Gilleth continued to pull ahead of Dagorgon, his muzzle now at her flank. Elrohir grew very serious as he realized she may pass him, but he could do nothing. Through all his urging, Dagorgon could not run any faster. He was a strong and impressive beast, but his build was for hammering strength, not agility. His muscled body was just too wind resistant to run any faster. Gilleth was solid, but lean, and her top speed was superior to Dagorgon's. His muzzle was soon barely even with her croup, and as they reached the first street of Rivindell, Gilleth's tail whipped Dagorgon in the face as she pulled before him into the street. Now in the lead, Gilleth slowed her pace. It would be too dangerous to pass each other, now. Lúthien and Gilleth's victory was assured, and they both buzzed with excitement at the promise of victory. However, they had failed to notice as Aragorn swung wide with Nadu before turning sharply and disappearing between two buildings. They hardly noticed his swift approach until Lúthien saw him disappear and reappear repeatedly between spaces in the buildings. He was passing them from an adjacent street!
"Hurry, my friend, ride on!" Lúthien encouraged her, but Gilleth could not compete with Nadu. Her sprint had waned her strength. Lúthien could only watch in admiration as Aragorn jerked Nadu swiftly, the deft and slim stallion easily maneuvering between two buildings to pull out in front of Gilleth. Now she knew why he had not tried to push Nadu, why he had been unconcerned when she had passed him. She had a feeling he had planned that move since the very beginning. It was a brilliant play. Elrohir, inspired by Aragorn, tried the same thing. However, he had forgotten that Dagorgon was much larger than the nimble Nadu. He had to slow a great deal in order to keep from crashing into the buildings. In the end, the mistake of his decision cost him as he was passed by Arwen. Determined not to be last, he urged Dagorgon at full speed once more, remaining on the adjacent street. Almost all the riders were now in their final positions as the end of the line drew near. In first place was the clever Aragorn. Immediately behind was Lúthien. Hot on Gilleth's tail was Arwen on Glawenor. A few paces back from Arwen was Elladan, and on the adjacent street rode Elrohir.
Lúthien watched Elrohir as he pushed Dagorgon. Though his top speed was nothing impressive, the stallion's stamina was. He apparently had strength to spare as his bulging muscles flexed and constricted with each bound. He steadily crept even with Glawenor before reaching even further toward Gilleth. He had almost pulled even with her when a horrible truth dawned on Elrohir. The street he was racing on did not extend the full length of the race. It was a dead end, and that end was in sight. Having no choice, he pulled Dagorgon sharply into the space of two buildings on another adjacent street. That street did reach the same end as the path everyone else raced upon, however he was no longer visible to the others. Not knowing how far ahead or behind she was compared to Elrohir, Lúthien urged Gilleth faster. Having recovered from her previous sprint, Gilleth picked up speed to her limit. The others followed suit behind her, both Arwen and Elladan having paced their horses for the most part. Lothvalthen pulled only slightly closer to Glawenor as Gilleth drew only a short distance ahead of both. However, there was no catching Aragorn. He had known Nadu's strengths when choosing him for this race, and had used each of the stallion's natural abilities to full advantage. After all, a horse was only as good as its rider, just as a chain is only as strong as its weakest link. If a rider did not know how to handle his horse, he could very well make a proven champion fall to last place.
About 50 feet ahead, a loud cheer of excitement drew Lúthien's attention. She watched as Aragorn and Nadu flew into the open area near the stables where they had first began, ripping through a colorful streamer stretched from one end of the path to the other. Lúthien realized it must be Pippin's banner. Aragorn had won. Lúthien held her breath as she and Gilleth approached and crossed the threshold next. She released her excitement into a beaming smile as Arwen and Elladan crossed together, having pulled even as the path had broadened. Elrohir popped out from two streets down with an apprehensive expression. At first he looked hopeful, then defeated as he realized he had been last. He slowed Dagorgon's run into a trot as he approached the rest, everyone else having slowed to a stop near the stables already.
As the excited cheers died down a little, Merry's voice piped up. "The winner of the race is Strider! In second place, Lúthien. Third place is a tie between Arwen and Elladan!" He shouted, his volume belying his small size. Looking to Elrohir last, he said nothing. He didn't want to risk hurting Elrohir's feelings by announcing that he had lost the race. However, Elladan had no such qualms.
"And in dead last, our beloved Elrohir." Elladan said with an amused grin, his voice not a shout but loud enough for most to hear.
Numerous laughs rose from the crowd from those who knew that this type of taunting between the twins was typical after one had defeated the other. They loved each other without question, so none of the heckles ever dug too deeply.
"So you beat me." Elrohir said, chuckling as he trot around his brother atop Dagorgon. "It's about time. I was beginning to feel pity for you."
"Who is Strider?" Lúthien asked, leaning over toward Arwen as they listened to the twins bicker.
"Strange. Not many usually pity a victor." Elladan countered.
"Strider is Aragorn. He is a ranger, and 'Strider' is what many people know him as."
"That would make great sense since I don't know how it is to be pitied." Elrohir shot back.
"Oh." Was Lúthien's only response as she eyed Aragorn a quick moment.
"Lady Lúthien Arwen." Called a voice from her side. A bit surprised, Lúthien craned her head down to see a handsome elfin guard approaching from her side. She recognized him immediately. It was one of the guards she had met her first night in Rivindell.
"Tirithon." She spoke his name in a breath He was even more handsome in the light of day than he was in the glow of the moon.
Reaching his hand up to her, he smiled charmingly. "I am honored that you so readily recall my name, my lady. Our meeting before had been all too brief."
Not knowing exactly what to say, she let him gently wrap his arm around her waist and pull her toward himself, removing her from atop Gilleth with the same graceful strength as Gonnon had used before. Meeting his clear, sky blue eyes as he softly lowered her to her feet, she felt a rising heat build in her cheeks at the sudden close contact. Having spent time around Lord Elrond's children and their more carefree antics, she'd momentarily forgotten how intense the elves could be. Honestly, she hadn't been prepared for Tirithon. He stepped back, but his hand seemed to burn straight through her clothes and into her skin as it rested on the small of her back. His eyes were so intense that she would have looked away were they not so captivatingly beautiful. The heat from his hand and gaze seemed to spread all over, and she knew she was forming a lovely rosy blush.
"My lady," he began, "walk with me?" He requested, his tones gentle as he already began to lead her away by the hold he had on her back. She could only nod dumbly in response, allowing herself to be lead away. Still astride Glawenor in the chaos of the completed race, Arwen watched Lúthien being escorted from the stable area. She wore the same expression she had several times before when Lúthien had been in the company of an eligible bachelor. It was a good thing Lúthien was too focused on Tirithon as he spoke to notice her grin. The air suddenly smelled of wet horse and blooming romance.
Cerulean Sage
"Not much to talk about this chapter, I think. Mithrandir is how the elves call Gandalf, just in case some of you didn't already know. The horses names are basically self explanatory; Glawenor 'radiance of the morning' for the copper-rust colored mare, Lothvalthen for the cremello mare which basically means golden flower, but I'm drawing a blank on Nadu at this moment... I think it means brave or some crap like that, but don't quote me. It's almost midnight and I don't feel much like looking it up after spending a few hours writing half this chapter in one sitting.
Oh, something I definitely wanted to touch on in this chapter was Lúthien's beauty. I don't feel I adequately explained in previous chapters. When I called her 'more beautiful' than Arwen, that was a personal mistake. I personally think the girl that plays Lana Lang in the series Smallville (which is kind of how I envision Lúthien) is more beautiful than Liv Tyler. However, I'm sure many will beg to differ with that opinion to the verge of violence. Beauty is always, always (always) in the eye of the beholder, and I will refrain from referring to Lúthien as 'more beautiful' from now on. Arwen does have qualities Lúthien just doesn't like innate grace, ethereal magic in physical form, and all sorts of things like that. I used the rose analogy to try to describe it. Lúthien is beautiful enough to pass for elf, since no humans (in this time period) are as flawless. (Find a picture of your great-great grandmother and I can almost guarantee she was ugly as sin... As humans as a species overcome more and more hardship, their physical health and appearance improve greatly.) However, she does not look like an elf. An elf is an elf, just as an orc is an orc, and a dwarf is a dwarf. They have similar defining features that make them what they are.
Imagine it like this. You are in a room full of beautiful or handsome people of the opposite gender (or the same gender depending on your preference), all of which have blonde hair and brown eyes. You've been in that room for 3 days straight (and somehow managed to restrain yourself from suggesting an orgy) when someone just as beautiful walks in, but they have brown hair and blue eyes. No matter where they wander, your eyes will automatically focus because that difference will continue to catch your attention. That's sort of the same idea as Lúthien's beauty. I'm not trying to build her up to be some goddess that makes Arwen look like a hag in comparison.
Imagine it like this... you're back in the room of blondes. Everyone in that building is either blonde and beautiful or brunette and ugly. (Blondes being elves and brunettes being humans) That one beautiful brunette breaks the mold for both the blondes and brunettes. I know my analogy isn't exact, but work with me here... it's late.
Anyway, I also thought that a little love triangle type drama among the horses would be cute. I wanted to give the horses personalities, because animals do have personalities, ya know... Damn human egoists. Not to mention Gilleth needs a love interest or two. After all, she did make that deal with Lúthien many chapters ago.
Oh, and I just had to make Aragorn win the race. Sorry you Mary-Sue lovers, but there was just no way I was going to let Lúthien take first place. And Lúthien didn't win second, Gilleth did. I wanted to show Aragorn's borne leadership skills through his calm tactical competence. I also made that 'weakest link' comment referring to Elrohir and Dagorgon. Elrohir chose Dagorgon simply because he's the most powerful and fantastic stallion in the stables, but Elrohir had no connection or understanding of Dagorgon's nature and abilities, and that's what cost him the race. That's exactly what made Aragorn win. He understood Nadu's strengths and weaknesses and fortified his victory by working with and around those abilities. I just feel that's important in mentioning since similar points will be brought up many times in the future in this story. Luck is only when preparation meets opportunity. Preparation was Aragorn's mind and opportunity was finding a horse that could accommodate his plans.
Anyhow, I also wanted to mention that if I get this chapter up, I may not get following chapters up according to my 'one week' policy. I've been having difficulties with my internet recently. As it stands now, I've been without a connection for several days. I apologize for this, but I will continue to write without internet. Once my situation improves, I will post more chapters according to how many weeks I may or may not be able to post. If I don't miss any weeks, I will just continue as normal. This is the week of April 23- 29, and I believe this is the week I said I would post after posting 2 chapters the previous week. One chapter was for "Lúthien" and the other was for "In The Cold" (my DBZ fic)
As always, review, review, review."