Chapter two.

Letter from Athelas, to her friend Arwen.

My dearest Arwen,

I intend to take full advantage of the courier returning to Rivendell tomorrow, and have taken the whole afternoon to myself to answer your charming letter.

I am so gratified to hear that both you and Aragorn are well. How convenient for you that he has to travel so close to Imladris lately! I am sure that you are taking full advantage of it. Please give my love to Lord Elrond, and thank him for his kind messages.

Spring seems late in coming this year and Mirkwood is delightfully muddy and damp. There also seems to be an upswing in the number of spiders. Legolas is of course dismayed by this, and is thus careful to hide his pleasure in being able to go out and hunt them down.

You ask how my young charge is, and I wish I could tell you that we have found her family and she is settled happily. This is not the case, however, and I feel that you will forgive me, my dear friend, if I take this opportunity to not complain, exactly, but to outline some of my frustration with the girl.

Daewen is completely healed in body, but I begin to wonder if she is, indeed, insane. Is such a thing possible for one of our kind? She must have been treated very badly to deprive her of any concept of manners, let alone common sense. I am inclined to think that her present behavior is some kind of backlash against the torment she has been through. She apparently believes that she is some kind of Queen, or at least that she is entitled to the respect and love that we all carry for our Lady Galadriel. I am trying to convince her of the folly of this, but it is very tough going. I have had to issue orders that her commands are not to be fulfilled. Her requests may be. I hope this will help her learn the difference.

I see now that my first mistake was in treating her very gently when she first came to us. As I explained, I was outraged by her treatment, made allowances for her, and was very careful to not upset her. This has had an adverse effect on her, as she now believes that everyone and everything in Mirkwood is at her disposal. For a week or two I made excuses for her, but when the complaints began that she was entering the rooms of persons unknown to her and trifling with their belongings, I had to put a stop to it. She took offense to this and acted as if I had beaten her. I merely put Nimeth in charge of her exercise, and made it understood that she was to be attended to at all times. She now seems to believe I want to spy on her. At least that it was I think she was trying to say.

For the first few weeks of her residence with us, she appeared to understand that we would be learning her tongue, and not the other way around. She was actually attempting to teach it to Nimeth and myself, when I stopped her and told her, and everyone else in Mirkwood, that she is to speak Sindarin, and nothing else. Any statements made in that barbaric gibberish are to be ignored.

For example, just this morning, I had intended to spend some time sewing with her. Her command of the language is minimal at best, and I hoped some conversation would help her along. She seems to have no real interest in learning our language, and at the rate she goes I will have mastered her wild speech before she can express herself decently in mine. But I digress.

As we sat, she, Nimeth and I, she was somewhat sullen, and kept picking at the easy work I had given her. Nimeth and I tired to engage her in dialogue about the work and the weather, but got nowhere with her. After a short time she stood up and threw her fabric to the ground. Surprised, but not shocked by this behavior, for she is often in a fit of passion about something, I asked her what was wrong. I shall try to recreate our conversation for you.

I: What is wrong, Daewen?

D: Sewing bad. This puzzled me for a moment, as I thought she believed her work to be unacceptable. Then I realized it was not her performance, but the act itself of sewing itself that was disagreeable to her.

I: Why is sewing bad?

D: Sewing female! Bad. Bow, arrow, male. Good. I nearly burst out laughing at her, but as you know, I can control myself when the occasion warrants. Where was this child raised to think that women cannot be archers? For a moment I wished Legolas were home, to show her the wonderful new wrist guards Merenanu made for him. His work is unsurpassed, and he is most definitely male.

I: You would rather be out practicing with a bow and arrow? I asked easily, willing to grant this if she asked.

D: Yes, I not sit. Go now! she demanded. Arwen, if you could have seen her face! Her eyes flashed, and she looked angry. Classifying this as a command, I refused.

I: No. If you wish to be excused, you must ask. I told her calmly. But, oh, my friend, to be spoken to thus in my own home! It took her a few moments to puzzle out what I had said, as she honestly does not seem to recognize the difference between a petition and an order. Finally it dawned on her.

D: I go? Please? A small victory! I willingly shooed her off, telling Nimeth to take her to Gilon and have her learn some skill with a bow. Now that I think of it, it does make more sense to me that she would want to learn to defend herself. It is just this sort of circumstance that makes me wish she were cleverer with language, that I could learn her story. I do not wish to be harsh with the child, but I cannot allow her to upset the whole of the Hall with her capers.

There is one other situation, my dearest Arwen, that I must tell you of. I found this to be highly amusing, and hope that you will as well.

Not long ago we had a warm day and all of us here in the Hall seemed to feel that spring was close. It led to high spirits among us, and in the evening music was proposed. Daewen accompanied me, and sat beside me in the hall. She does try to pester King Thranduil, who is less patient with her mischief than I am, although he has not yet lost his composure with her. Eru protect her on that day.

This night Legolas was restless, and spent the evening going from elf to elf, talking, laughing, sharing a cup of wine here and there. You know how he is when he is in high good humor. Daewen and I sat with Thranduil at the head of the hall and enjoyed ourselves thoroughly. During the evening, he requested that I sing for the company. To please him I did, though we both know that I am not a great musician. I gave him a sprightly tune, one that has cheered him before and he kissed me when I was finished, and called me his songbird. He does that to tease.

Then, to my surprise, Daewen stood up and said, in her halting Sindarin, that she would like to sing. I was happy to see this, for it seemed to me the first inclination she had shown of doing something, well, elven. She went and took her place with the musicians, and Legolas came and sat by me in her chair. She took a deep breath and then began to sing, in that barbaric language. The sound of it sent chills up and down my spine! Never, in all my time, not even when I was a child and your brothers frightened us with tales of the Balrog, have I been startled like that! The silence from the other elves was terrible. We heard every word of that, I want to call it an incantation, and the look on Legolas' face was something to behold. He is the bravest of elves, but to see that fascinated horror on his face nearly reduced me to tears of laughter. And our Daewen continued to sing, as proud as if she were as gifted as Luthien.

I still recall the words of that ballad, if I may call it that, and I write them that you may have some sense of it:

"I walk these lonely streets, down the only road I've ever known..."

What it means, the Valar alone know, but it gave me a shock. When she had finished, King Thranduil, perhaps to dispel some of the gloom that had gathered suggested dancing. Daewen made her way to Legolas and asked, mind you, if he would partner her. He agreed, and they made their way to the center of the Hall. As the song began, she began to gyrate and twitch in a way that had me from my seat and to her side in an instant. I truly believed she was suffering a convulsion! Pulling her to a chair, I called for wine, and was dosing her when she managed to convey that she had merely been dancing! I had never seen the like before! Once my fright was over, and when we retired for the evening, I nearly laughed myself sick. Legolas attempted to imitate her dance, and the sight of him, arms flailing, hips spiraling, put me into a frenzy of mirth. I laugh now, even as I recall it.

This letter has been much longer than I anticipated, my friend, and I thank you for allowing me to share my concerns with you. I feel much better for having expressed myself, and shall return to my task with renewed energy. Daewen must overcome her past and take her place among us, and I shall be happy to help her.

Let me hear from you soon, my dearest Arwen

Athelas