10. Bitter Truth
"I do not care what you do," Rumil stated harshly. "Distract him, it can hardly be that difficult!" The trio stood on the flet below Haldir's talan, above them they could just make out the edge of the terrace. It was a fair ways up and in the next tree over but this locality was fairly secluded and offered the best chance of getting into their brother's home unseen.
"You cannot expect him to fall for this." Dinendal shook his head worriedly. "Your brother is not that dense. And you have Aragorn to contend with as well."
"I told you," Rumil assured in exasperation. "Aragorn is getting up today after lunch to practice walking. You only need to keep them both out of the bed chamber for a few moments. I will take care of the rest."
"And what if walking did not go well and he is already back in bed?" Orophin questioned.
"Then we will simply have to try again tomorrow," Rumil answered fervently. His expression a bit manic. "We are wasting time, go!" He glared at them both until Orophin rolled his eyes, grasping Dinendal by the tunic and tugging him in the direction of Haldir's front door. As soon as they had gained the steps Rumil checked his front pocket for the bright blue bottle and then looked around carefully before jumping up and catching a low hanging branch, swinging himself up into the tree.
He clambered up several feet, checking now and again on Dinendal and Orophin. He was quite quick and he gained the branch over his brother's terrace just as they reached his front door, knocking softly.
Rumil could hear Haldir's voice and he squinted into the sitting room. The curtains were half drawn and it was hard to see. He turned his attention instead to the bedchamber and a smile twisted his lips. The bed was empty.
He jumped down, landing catlike on the terrace and quickly scurried to the alcove near the door. He peered into the bed chamber and beyond he could see Orophin standing near the door, Dinendal shifting uneasily beside him. He caught Orophin's eye and his older brother tilted his head slightly. Rumil's gaze swept the room and landed on the bright blue bottle sitting on the bedside table. Quick as a flash he darted into the room, fishing the bottle out of his pocket and switching it with one on the table before turning on his heel and bolting back out the terrace doors. He took two steps and jumped, pulling himself onto the nearest tree branch, catching his breath as he looked back into the bed chamber.
"You have had enough for now," Haldir stated, depositing the mortal on the bed and reaching for the small blue bottle. "You can try again once you've rested."
A twisted smirk curled Rumil's lips and he scurried along the branch, ducking well out of sight as he made his way back the way he had come. His plan had worked even more perfectly than he would have hoped. In a day or two Aragorn would be on his feet and smelling very much like a dragon carcass.
"I am brilliant," Rumil stated smugly to himself. He stifled a yelp as his foot slipped. He pitched sideways, barely managing to catch hold of the branch with his knees. He let out a nearly silent huff as he dangled upside down over the forrest floor.
"Brilliant," he said irritably.
"Sweet Elbereth," Faeneth let her breath out in a rush as she stared, wide eyed at the reflection. The elleth in the mirror wore a gown of deepest red that scooped shockingly low in the front, showing off a more than generous amount of cleavage and hugging every curve until it puddled on the floor of her bedroom.
"You are quite fetching when you put a bit of effort into it," Meril replied with a wicked grin as she admired her handiwork. It was very true. The normally tomboyish courier was barely visible beneath the shimmering folds of silk. Faeneth's hair, usually drawn back in tight braids now framed her face in elegant ringlets.
"I feel naked," she declared with a slightly ill expression. She turned in front of the mirror, glancing over her shoulder so that she could see the view from the back and she let out a gasp. "I look half naked!" The ruby red gown draped down from her shoulders to beneath the small of her back and she let out a chilled shudder despite the fact that the day was comfortably warm.
"Nonsense," Meril scoffed, clearly pleased with the effect. "there is no harm in showing a bit of skin."
"A bit?" Faeneth answered in surprise. There was a light rap on the bedchamber door and Meril reached over, pulling the latch as Faeneth spun around self-consciously, trying to decide if she should hide her front or her back. Aduial stood in the doorway her hands resting on her hips. Her piercing eyes raked over her friend appraisingly and she frowned. Faeneth gave Meril a triumphant look as if Aduial's disapproval were a point in her favor but her smugness was short lived.
"Faeneth don't cross your arms over your chest," Aduial stated in exasperation. "No one can see anything!"
"That was the point!" Faeneth answered in frustration.
"You talk to her," Meril insisted, ushering her into the room with a wave of her hand "I wrestled her into the dress, I am done."
"You have that look again," Aduial stated, stepping behind Faeneth and straightening her shoulders as Meril flopped unceremoniously on the bed.
"What look?" the courier asked, her brow creasing.
"The look you used to get when you were an elfling right before you climbed out a window and found an obliging mud puddle to play in." Aduial replied as Meril giggled.
"She did not?" the warden demanded in amusement.
"She did," Aduial insisted. "The last time I remember seeing her in a gown was when Haldir's brother's went missing from a midsummer feast and Haldir and I found them all swimming in the Celebrant in their underclothes."
"It was hot," Faeneth defended, as Meril broke into peals of laughter. "We were all elflings and it was Dinendal's idea any way."
"Her Naneth was furious," Aduial remarked with a chuckle.
"A pity it didn't get Rumil's attention," Meril observed.
"There is a thought," Faeneth stated, glaring at her reflection with a repulsed expression as if she were wearing a live snake. "I could parade around the city in my underthings."
"Dear, there is a fine line between seduction and wantonness," Aduial advised.
"Finer in some places than in others, apparently," Faeneth answered sourly.
"It reminds me of a dress I wore when Orophin was courting me," Meril stated with a bit of a romantic sigh that dissolved into a fit of obscene giggles.
"Were you not in pursuit of the prince of Mirkwood at the time?" Faeneth asked in confusion.
"Aye, I was," Meril admitted with an evil leer. "But Orophin liked it better so I married him instead."
"There you go," Aduial stated as if it were all settled. "Rumil is certain to like it." Faeneth shook her head clearly uncertain as to the wisdom of that argument.
"I can go a bit farther," Aragorn squinted as if he were gauging the distance and Haldir shook his head.
"You would be better off if you simply went back to bed," the marchwarden insisted. He was clutching the back of the mortal's tunic in his fist, steadying him as he teetered slightly from side to side.
"I've only just started," Aragorn scoffed, holding his arms out in front of him as he struggled to maintain his balance.
"The last time you started you ended face first on the floor," Haldir reminded, smirking in spite of himself as the mortal grasped at the back of a chair to keep from falling over.
"All in the past," Aragorn insisted.
"Not nearly far enough," Haldir countered, with his most persuasive voice. "Come, I will help you back to your room, it is nearly time for your elixir."
"Rhach," Aragorn swore, turing his head just a bit to glare at his friend. "I have had enough of that vile brew to last me three lifetimes."
"It is the reason you are still alive," Haldir stated in irritation, tugging slightly on the mortal's collar as he continued to walk in the opposite direction of his room.
"Next time let me die," Aragorn snorted, pulling a face.
"I have far too much invested in you," Haldir answered with a smirk. The heir of Isildur was doing surprisingly well and the elf could hardly blame him for his anxiousness. He found found convalescence nearly intolerable and he had many more centuries to learn patience than the mortal. There was a knock on the Talan door and Haldir turned his head to see Aragorn grab hold of the sofa to steady himself. He loosened his grip and hurried to the door, opening it just enough to see out but still shield his guest from view.
"Locking us out now are you?" Orophin asked with a grin, shouldering his way in past his brother with Dinendal in tow.
"Yes well, Laurelin has snuck in one too many times this week," Haldir answered with a chuckle.
"You," Orophin stated, giving the mortal an appraising look as he folded his arms over his chest. "Look much better."
"Haldir says that I am still little more than dead weight," Aragorn smirked.
"Do not take it too badly," Orophin shrugged, giving his brother a sly look. "He says worse about us."
"Are you here for a reason or did you simply come to mock me?" Haldir asked, slightly amused as he grasped hold of the back of Aragorn's tunic again.
"Can I not simply come to see my brother?" Orophin asked, pretending to look wounded.
"Usually you want something," Haldir observed, his attention divided between his brother and his patient.
"Actually we wanted to talk you into practicing archery," Dinendal piped up. "You haven't been out in days."
"I was out yesterday," Haldir replied a bit defensively.
"Delivering a border report is not getting out," Orophin insisted with a chuckle. His brother gave him a bit of a shamefaced look before glancing at the mortal he still clutched by the collar
"I won't break, you know," Aragorn pointed out. "I managed fine on my own for years."
"I will go tomorrow," Haldir promised. "By then I should be able to trust him to stand up on his own without falling over."
"Your vote of confidence is so reassuring," Aragorn answered drily, earning a laugh from the two younger elves.
"Rumil did not come with you?" The marchwarden asked curiously.
"He said he was busy," Orophin answered with what he hoped was a disinterested shrug. Haldir's eyes narrowed.
"He is not sneaking into the ladies bath house again is he?" his brother demanded in exasperation.
"No," the pair of wardens answered quickly in unison. Orophin and Dinendal glanced at each other with guilty expressions and Haldir shook his head with a long suffering sigh.
"I thought having the twins for brothers was bad," Aragorn grimaced.
"You have no idea," Haldir answered. Aragorn took a step forward and faltered, his leg nearly giving way. Haldir jerked him up, setting him on his feet and steadying him as he wobbled.
"A little farther," Aragorn negotiated as Orophin let out a snicker. Haldir sighed again, shaking his head as he roughly spun the mortal around, half dragging him toward the bedchamber.
"You have had enough for now," he stated, dumping the mortal none too carefully on the bed. "You can try again once you've rested."
"I have had so much rest I am sick of this place," Aragorn answered irritably. He let out a groan as Haldir picked up the cobalt blue bottle from the side table and poured it into a mug.
"Take it," Haldir instructed, thrusting the mug into Aragorn's hands.
"Have I not already had enough of this poison?" Aragorn demanded with a dark scowl.
"I save your life and you accuse me of poisoning you," Haldir replied with a chuckle as he stood to his feet and crossed to the door.
"The last time I tasted anything this vile is was poison," Aragorn insisted.
"Drink it," Haldir ordered. "It is the last dose, I will not ask you to swallow any more of it."
"Is that a promise?" Aragorn asked hopefully.
"So long as you do not turn up on my border again full of more holes than an archery target," Haldir nodded. "Get some rest. You can get up again later."
Aragorn stared into the cup as the marchwarden closed the door, he could think of at least fifty things he would rather do than drink the dark, acrid brew in his cup. It reminded him of something he had tasted once, what seemed like a lifetime ago now. His stomach twisted, but not from the smell of the elixir, and his thought turned unbidden to that night.
"I have never seen you look so pleased with yourself," Thorongil stated, his cup hovering at his lips. "One would think that you did not already have a son."
"You can not fault me for for celebrating," Denethor said with a laugh. He turned his head to glance across the great hall to where Finduilas stood with a group of giggling young women, her face aglow with happiness. The hall was filled with celebrants, all breathing a sigh of relief that the Corsair threat was, for the moment, behind them.
"You would celebrate the discovery of a good barrel of wine, son of the Steward," Mithrandir declared with a laugh as he joined them. Denethor raised his cup in salute before taking a long pull. Thorongil only shook his head, raising his own cup to his lips.
The liquor burned the back of his throat and he let out a rasping cough, spitting it out on the floor and drawing a good-natured laugh from the Steward's son.
"Ugh, that is vile!" He declared, pulling a face as he broke out in a coughing fit. "How can you drink that poison?"
"It is not so bad once you have had enough of it," Denethor answered with a shrug, a giggle slipping out as Thorongil gagged.
"You have already had too much of it," Thorongil declared, doubling up and rasping violently.
"Aye, that is what my wife said," Denethor agreed. "she claimed I was mad to drink it at all."
"Here, have some wine," Mithrandir offered, holding out a cup that the captain took gratefully, tipping back his head and draining it in one go. Denethor roared with laughter, thumping him heartily on the back.
"I am not sure a man if your wisdom should father children," the old wizard observed, his mouth curling in an amused smirk beneath his beard.
"Too late now," Thorongil gasped, his eyes watering. Denethor leered at his wife across the room, catching her eye and sending a blush creeping up her cheeks.
"Finduilas has said that you believe it will be a girl," he beamed, emptying his cup.
"Ah yes," Mithrandir nodded sagely, glancing at the captain out of the corner of his eye. "the wisdom of a man with a head injury. Who could possibly doubt?"
"It was not my head it was my ribs," Thorongil answered his voice a bit strained as Denethor snickered.
"Are you certain it was not your head?" Mithrandir asked, his eyes twinkling.
"It would not matter," Denethor shrugged, "he was addled before he ever left." Thorongil shook his head ruefully.
"I think I will take some fresh air before I turn in," he said with a smile, setting his empty cup on a nearby table.
"Leaving your party already?" Denethor almost scolded.
"I have had enough fun for one evening," the captain answered, bowing his head before turning and crossing the room.
"Leaving already?" Finduilas asked as he passed her in the crowd.
"I could use the rest," he replied, pausing with a slight frown. "my lady, you look pale."
"I am a bit tired," she admitted. "Perhaps I will turn in myself soon."
"Are you sure you would not like me to see you to your room," he asked, a hint of worry in his eyes.
"No, I'm fine, Captain," she assured squeezing his arm gently. He bowed his head as she gave him a charming smile and he turned, disappearing through the door to the gardens.
Aragorn frowned, he could hear muffled voices in the next room and he glared into the cup again. His brow knitted in thought a moment and he glanced around the room. His gaze fell on the half open wardrobe door and with an ornery smirk he pushed himself to the edge of the bed, struggling to silently haul himself to his feet. He took a few halting steps careful not to make any noise and reached inside one of the boots, pulling out a half empty bottle of wine. He pried the cork out with his teeth and slowly emptied the contents of the mug into it before recorking it and stuffing it back inside the boot. He wobbled back to bed, easing back into the pillows with an exhausted sigh.
He'd had quite enough.
"What is it?" Silivren asked gently, placing a hand on her companion's arm as they crossed the bridge that spanned a pair of flets. Arwen's head turned, her brow crinkled in a brooding look that she quickly pushed aside.
"Nothing really," she assured quickly, her lips curling a bit at Silivren's reproving look. "It is just, had you noticed anything odd?"
"Odd?" her lady in waiting asked, swallowing down a sudden surge of tension. "in what way?"
"It is just that everyone seems to be acting a bit... strangely," Arwen answered with an elegant shrug.
"I had not noticed," Silivren lied, her eyes widening in panic. Arwen seemed distracted by something in the trees over head and she took the moment to regain in her composure. "what is it that you found odd."
"That for instance," Arwen replied, making a slight gesture above them. Silivren tilted her head back, blinked several times and then turned to the Evenstar with a perplexed frown.
"There is something odd about Rumil dangling from a tree like an overgrown bat?" she asked curiously.
"Well," Arwen's cheeks colored ever so slightly. "He is not anywhere near the ladies bath house."
"That is a point," Silivren agreed. They looked at each other a moment and paused in the middle of the flet, Arwen with her most serene expression and Silivren wearing a slight scowl, her elegant arms folded over her chest. They waited in silence a few minutes, the only sound the slight rustle of the trees and then the branch over them swayed a bit and a figure dropped neatly to the flet. Rumil straightened, dusting off his tunic with a smug smile and turned, his face contorting through a series of expressions as he discovered the pair of elleth standing under the shade of a low hanging branch directly behind him.
"Good day to you, my ladies," he said with his most elegant salute as his face settled on a charmed expression. His coy smile faltered only slightly as he was met with one piercing gaze and one irritated.
"Rumil," Arwen answered, with the faintest polite smile. "So kind of you to... drop in."
"Um..." he motioned to the tree and then at the floor. A practical excuse completely failing to surface.
"You have been spying on some poor elleth while she changes again haven't you?" Silivren demanded with a severe frown.
"What? I... no!" Rumil sputtered, flailing a bit helplessly, "I... I was just..."
"That is what I thought," Silivren said to Arwen, shaking her head in disappointment.
"I was doing nothing of the sort," Rumil defended, the tips of his ears turning pink.
"Well perhaps you would like to offer an alternative explanation then," Arwen suggested diplomatically. Here eyes twinkling with an amusement that was not mirrored in her handmaiden's
"I would be happy to," the warden answered, squaring his shoulders. "just as soon as I think of one." Silivren rolled her eyes and Arwen shook her head. The pair glanced at each other and, as if coming to some agreement, continued along their way. Rumil's face contorted in a terrified grimace and he scurried after them, all pretense at dignity forgotten.
"You will not tell the Lady, will you?" he asked in horror, dogging their steps as they headed toward the heart of the city.
"Rumil, really," Arwen chided. "You must think me an awful snitch to run to my grand mother."
"You are going to tell Lord Celeborn are you not?" Rumil demanded miserably. If anything it was almost worse than bearing the wrath of Galadriel, who, despite her staunch efforts to hide it, quite favored him.
"I think we should consider telling Haldir," Silivren stated without preamble.
"A much better course of action," Arwen agreed, nodding as Rumil blanched.
"Not Haldir," Rumil begged. "He will assign me to the northern fences for the next twenty years."
"Then we shall all enjoy two decades without fear of being spied upon in our own bed chambers," Silivren observed, earning a nod of agreement from Arwen who was struggling not to giggle.
"Why is it you dislike me so much, Silivren?" Rumil demanded, his poor humor getting the better of him. While he was certain that Arwen was at least half having him on he was not at all sure the handmaiden would not bustle off at the first opportunity and report him.
"Rumil, I never said I disliked you," Silivren answered, turning to stare him down. "You can be quite charming when you put in the effort but you seem to think of no one but yourself."
"I was not spying on naked elleth!" he insisted, a bit more loudly than he intended. A cluster of elleth on the next flet looked up and then began to giggle as his face turned red. Silivren only shook her head and continued on, a snickering Arwen at her side.
"Had you ever considered how your behavior reflects on your brother?" the handmaiden asked, her lips drawing up in a thin line as he hurried after them.
"My brother?" Rumil demanded in confusion.
"Your brother," Silivren reminded in exasperation. "One of the most feared and respected elves in all of Lothlorien. With a brother who behaves like a cross between an errant elfling and a cave troll." Arwen could no longer contain her laughter and she pressed her fingers to her lips as she let out a giggle.
"Haldir," Rumil said, his brow knitting. A look of realization dawned on his face and he wedged himself between them, giving the silvery haired elleth a coy smirk. "You fancy my dear brother don't you Silivren."
"He is a catch," Arwen suggested impishly but Silivren ignored her.
"If you wish to spend your life skulking up trees it is no concern of mine," she stated. "In the future I suggest you plan your little escapades a bit more carefully. You would not want this weeks object of your affection catching you. She might not be as willing to let you off as I."
"For your information she does not even live in this part of the city!" Rumil answered smugly. Arwen gave him a meaningful look and he gaped at her a moment as Silivren frowned. "That did not come out right."
"Rumil, when will you ever grow up?" Silivren asked, almost sadly. He skidded to a stop as they continued on, a confused and slightly irritated expression on his face.
"That shows what you know!" he called after them. Arwen let out another giggle, glancing over her shoulder at him.
"Pithy, Rumil," she replied with a wicked grin. "And everyone says Haldir is the smart one in the family!" He folded his arms over his chest sulkily as the pair disappeared down the next set of steps. Suddenly he wasn't feeling quite so brilliant any more.
"This is a library," a soft feminine voice hissed from behind the high shelves of history volumes.
"What better place for the finer points of... intercourse." a hushed male voice answered.
"Faer nin, it is a public library," the elleth pointed out, her voice barely more than a whisper.
"Well I can see your point in that," the elf answered a bit smugly. "You were never so very good at keeping quiet."
"Celeborn, I have something to tell you," Galadriel said softly, struggling to untangle herself from her husband's grasp.
"It can wait," he assured, his well muscled arms caging her against the annals of the first age. "I, my lady, cannot."
"Celeborn," she bit the tip of her tongue to hold in her whimper as he left a lingering kiss between her breasts.
"You are spoiling the moment," he murmured softly against her skin.
"I have a secret," she whispered against his ear.
"Melleth nin, you always have a secret," he purred. "Is it like the one on the beach in Mithlond?"
"Nothing like," she answered. He gave her a naughty leer, pressing closer as his lips hovered over her own.
"Will I like it better?" he asked wickedly.
"No," Galadriel answered flatly, earning a frown. "probably not."
Author's note - I promised to do better about the updates! I'm a little later on this one than I wanted but I have an incredibly good excuse. You can see it on my blog, ('Homepage' on my profile under 'Why I've been missing') It's complicated. Squeezeles to everyone who reviewed! you made the last month livable for me!
Lady Faewen - I think it's probably one evil genius and a pair of minions... which never beats a full house of nobility. ;-)
Nevalie - Ihr Englisch ist besser als mein Deutscher, Ich kann nicht buchstabieren, um meine Lebensdauer zu sichern. Danke
Kelsey - hope you enjoyed this chapter just as much, it was like pulling teeth to get it out.