Chapter 7

Mari had only just finished unfastening her pack from Milhir's steed when she heard Arewen call to her.

"Come Mari! I should think you'd like to bathe."

Mari spun around to face her. "Would I!" There was some soft laughter at her eager response. She didn't care; after so many days of not bathing, she felt filthy.

Carrying a small box, Arewen went off in a direction toward the river. Mari followed, not bothering to put down her pack.

When they reached the river, Mari could see that this was a commonly known rest spot. There was a part of the river that had been damned up by large stones that created an area free from the current, deep enough to swim in or (even better) bathe in.

She dropped her bag to the ground with a sigh of relief. First she took off her boots and stockings. Next came her skirt. She was careful to remove the knife holsters at the same time so that Arewen wouldn't see them. Mari then took off her blouse and threw it unceremoniously into the pile with her skirt stocking and boots. Normally she would have taken the time to neatly fold these items, but she was too excited about getting clean to care.

Just as she was about to remove her bra, she saw Arewen looking at her quizzically.

"What is it?"

"What are you wearing?" exclaimed Arewen.

"Huh?"

"Those things covering you." She was pointing to Mari's bra.

"These? Oh! They're my...um...langure...What's the word you have for them...? Undergarments?"

"But they're so beautiful!" She was referring to the fact that it was of a lavender, silk fabric. "Why would such cloth be worn under your clothes?" Mari began to laugh very hard at this. "Forgive me, " continued Arewen, a bit annoyed, "But I'm afraid I don't understand what is so funny."

Mari got her laughter under control once she remembered she was with a princess. "I'm sorry!" she blurted out between breaths. "It makes sense that they would seem strange to you, I guess. They're just so normal where I come from."

"Do all women wear similar garments in your home?" asked Arewen from in the water. Mari took note of how quickly she had gotten undressed and had begun bathing.

"Well, they're not all the same, they vary, like all other types of clothing, but they all have a similar look to them."

"And they're always worn beneath your clothes?"

"Yes," she replied, trying to hold in more laughs. That idea was particularly amusing to her. She couldn't even picture what wearing a bra over a blouse would look like, or for that matter, what people would think of such a thing!

"It just seems silly to me that such fine cloth would be used for an item no one would see."

"Well some people see it."

It was only now that Mari noticed Arewen had set the small box she'd brought with her atop one of the large rocks that formed the dam. Inside it were different soaps and oils for her hair. "Who else would see?" she asked, handing Mari a once whole bar of scented soap.

"You saw it."

"Yes, but what does it matter that I see it in a situation such as this? You weren't planning on showing it off to me, were you?" she joked.

"True; but if I were to do my laundry and hang them up to dry, any one who passes by might admire them." Arewen gave her a sideways glance, knowing she was trying to by silly now. "And sometimes pretty under clothes make you feel pretty!"

"I highly doubt that!"

"It's true!"

The two women were laughing loudly together now. Arewen sighed deeply as her laughter subsided. She began to lather soap in her hands.

"And besides," continued Mari, slowly, "The men I'm with like the way they look."

"Men?" Asked Arewen, stopping mid way through washing her arm.

"Yes."

"As in more than one?"

"Not at once. Is that a problem for you?" She was testing the waters with Arewen. She needed to know what type of a society she'd fallen into and what sort of things were permissible and tolerated.

"Not necessarily," she replied, choosing her words carefully, "But I should warn you, not everyone in this world is as accepting as I am. The roles of women must be very different in your world, but here, a women who takes many lovers in this world would be called a whore. I don't know you well enough to say that you are or you aren't."

The woman and the she-elf regarded each other silently for a moment.

"The roles of women are very similar to here is my best guess," replied Mari.

"Then why is it you are so... open, in regard to your...lovers?"

"I do not hide what or who I am," she said solemnly. "I do not flaunt it, but I do not hide it."

"That is respectable," said Arewen, sincerely.

There was another brief pause.

"I won't tell a soul if it is what you wish."

"It is."

"Then I won't. I advise you to be careful who it is you share that information with."

A new, comfortable silence settled between the two.

After completely cleaning herself, Mari hoisted herself on top of one of the large rocks that closed in the little swimming hole. She sat there, staring out to the other side of the river, bathing in the sun, until Arewen interrupted the silence.

"Would you like to use my comb?" she asked.

"Oh yes!" replied Mari, eagerly accepting the wooden comb Arewen had took out of her box.

Mari sat, contently combing her hair, trying to think of a way to make polite conversation since she had been so generally courteous.

"It's strange they let you out here alone," she began. "I mean, you being a princess and all, I'm surprised you don't have someone keeping watch over you or something."

"I'm not a free as you are lead to think," she said, smiling. "One of them is in that tree over there, keeping guard. We're right in his sight."

"What?!" squeaked Mari, attempting to cover her body. She was about to dive back into the water up to her neck before Arewen stopped her.

"No! No!," she said, laughing. "They're all well mannered enough to not look."

Mari calmed. She trusted Arewen in this matter. She resumed combing her hair and warming her body in the sun.

LGLGLGLGLGLGLGLGLGLG

Legolas was ill at ease after what he'd told Mari about being with the fellowship and their task. For most of the rest of the day he didn't speak. He desperately wanted to get away from his companions for he felt he would turn into his worse self at any moment which was strange since it was they who usually kept him in his normal condition. His hopes were that once they stopped for the day he would be able to go off for a while by himself to collect fire wood or something. He found his escape when Arewen and Mari went to the river to bathe. Before any of the others had a chance to, he volunteered to keep watch over hem.

He headed off in the direction they had gone then took to the trees as he neared the river. Once he reached the trees closest to the shore he settled himself on a nicely curved limb. He placed his hands behind his head and crossed his ankles. To another he might have appeared relaxed, but indeed he was not. More than anything he wanted to hang his bow and quiver on one of the branches and completely let his guard down but, bound to his duty, he could not allow himself to. Though nothing was likely to happen within the boarders of Gondor, he was still obligated to protect Arewen and Mari (simply because she was in the company of Arewen). In his state, he could hear their chatter but did not listen, not only because it would have been rude, but also he didn't much care for the idle conversation of women.

He stared up at the canopy of green. He could see blue sky. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. No, it did not smell like home. He had fooled himself that it might, for resting like this was something he used to do in the woods of his home at the end of the day.

Legolas missed Mirkwood, his home. He missed the smells, the sounds, and the Lonely Mountain to the north. He missed the leaves that were beginning to fall when he first left, the snow that fell while he was on the Caradas, and the flowers that would be blooming in a week's time. Most of all he missed his stubborn, passionate father and his solemn, loving brother. There were no words in Elvish, common speech, or Dwarfish that could express the longing he had for his homeland.

There was one thing, however, that he wanted more than to return home. He wanted to see the world.

Before he journeyed to Rivendell he had never stepped foot outside of Mirkwood. He realized now that he had led a very sheltered life in his father's kingdom. True, he had become an excellent warrior (one of the best in the entire Greenwood) and he did have to endure the royal ceremonies of his father's and the yearly festivals, but he was spared the usual duties of royal offspring. He was allowed to get away with such things, he assumed, because he wasn't the heir to the throne as his older brother (who had not be spared such duties) was. Instead of sitting in on his father's meetings, Legolas had been racing with friends in the woods; instead of attending tutoring sessions in diplomacy, Legolas had been swimming in Lake .

Speaking of swimming, these women are taking too long. He turned his head to check on them. Just as I thought. They had, in fact, finished bathing and were sitting on some rocks talking as if they had all the time in the world. Well Arewen does have all the time... His mind stopped when he suddenly remembered that Arewen had given up her immortality to wed Aregorn. It pained him that the Evenstar would one day have to grow old and die.

Arewen was one of his oldest and dearest friends. He and she had been the last elven children born on Middle Earth. She was six hundred years his senior, so for six hundred years people had thought she was the last born, until, that is, the beautiful wife of Thranduil, Queen of Mirkwood, gave birth to her second son. When they were young, their parents and others had joked, saying that the two of them would marry one day. Both Legolas and Arewen found it terribly funny. Firstly because they were too young to know what love really was and second because it got them so much attention. Once they were old enough to know what love was and found out that their parents hadn't been joking, they realized, to the disappointment of half the Elvin population on Middle Earth, that they weren't in love and never could be. They had grown up together and loved each other as brother and sister. It took their parents several years to accept this fact, but they didn't push the matter. Now Arewen was marrying the love of her life and would be a mortal as the naked woman sitting beside her.

At this moment Legolas realized just how much of a Peeping Tom he was being. He gave it a half a second of guilty thought before he continued staring at the two women; his generally curious nature had won. Well, not really the two of them. He'd seen Arewen without her clothes on more than one occasion. (Those occasions were in no way as perverse as one might be lead to think. Mostly they were the childish antics of Elledan, Elrohir, and him stealing her and her hand maidens' clothes while they were swimming.) Instead, he focused his attention on Mari.

As he had decided before, she had a strange look to her. It appeared her entire body really was a darkened color, not just colored by the sun. She was more...voluptuous than the average woman and far more than any elf-maid. Her bosom was ample; her hips were wider, giving her body noticeable curves. She was generally small compared; nearly two heads shorter than him. Despite her height and strangeness, were he not so unsettled by her mere presence, he might have considered her beautiful.

Her skin was soft. He remembered this from last night. His head began to hurt at the memory. His hand also began to tingle at the moment he remembered, in the same way it had when the mysterious healing power coursed through it. What had happened? How had he done it? Her back was to him now and he could see that the scars and bruised were definitely gone.

An overwhelming power had claimed him when he touched her and it made him feel as though he was part of the living world again rather than a ghost floating through it. It gave him a chill of excitement and fright to think of it. He knew not what the source of this power was but believed that she must or that at least by touching her again he might find the answer.

His eyes had gone out of focus and he no longer stared at her. Some movement caught his eye though, and his thoughts came back to the present. What he had seen was Mari an Arewen walking along the rooks to the shallow end then to the shore. He continued watching Mari as she dressed. It seemed senseless to him that such clean, beautiful skin should have to be covered in filthy clothes. Should have to be clothed. Period. he thought.

He was no longer entranced by his thoughts but by the way her limbs moved as she put different articles of clothing. As she dressed and more of her skin was covered he became more entranced by the bits left exposed. First she put on a set of very strange undergarments, followed by her skirt, the blouse, then stockings and shoes. She made the whole process of putting clothes on more mesmerizing than taking them off, which was something he couldn't quite understand but wanted to learn more about.

After they walked away, he dropped down from the tree to the ground and undressed to take his own bath. Soon the rest of his male companions would join him and his peaceful solitude would be over.

LGLGLGLGLGLGLGLGLGLG

Mari walked with Arewen back to the camp. When they arrived all the elves went to the river for their turn to bathe. They had already lit a fire, so the two women sat beside it and continued to talk as they had in the river.

"A woman like you must think me foolish to marry," began Arewen.

"How do you mean?"

"Well, you take pride in not having one man to whom you are bound. Surely you must not favor marriage."

"Actually, no! I think its a wonderful idea if it is what you want. I simply have never found the right man."

"But you have...bedded men, no?"

"Yes, but I could not see myself spending my entire life with any of them." Arewen looked at her, urging her to continue. "You see, I am a Gypsy, and the life of a Gypsy is a particular one. We live outside certain constraints of society. Were I to marry a non-Gypsie, he would expect me to give up my wandering life for a settled one with him. I am not willing to do this any time soon. I am willing to love only one man so long as he is able to love the one me there is. I am what I am and can't change that."

Arewen stayed thoughtfully silent. "I understand completely," she eventually said in the stillness, "for that is exactly the type of man I am to wed tomorrow!"

Mari smiled, remembering that Arewen was going to marry the king of Gondor. "You seem very happy about your marriage to him. I can tell you're in love with this man."

"Can you?" she asked with a smirk. "How?"

"A person in love is easy to recognize."

"But you said you have never been in love."

"I never said that." A smile of sweet memory crossed Mari's face. "But I have seen the case of my sister and her husband. They are truly in love with each other and have been for years. When they are close to one another it is obvious but when they are are apart there were certain ways to tell. Like the way their eyes light up when the other is mentioned, the smiles and far off looks they get on their faces and how when you asked them what it is they were thinking of they would respond, 'My beloved husband,' or 'My beautiful wife'. You clearly had the same look on your face, the same gaze in your eyes; I bet if I were to ask you what you were thinking of you no doubt would have said, "Aragorn, the man I am to marry."

Arewen's smile grew a little bigger, here eyes turned down and were she not an elf she would have blushed at the way Mari had been able to read her so easily. "Is it really so easy to tell?"

"For me, yes."

"Are all your people so talented?"

"No. I just have what we call a 'knack' for such things."

"Then you, Mari of the Roma, are truly gifted.

Mari smiled shyly. No one had ever complimented her intuitions before.

"Come. Help me to prepare dinner," said Arewen in a way that was more inviting than commanding. "I doubt they've done anything."

"No lembas bread?"

"No.Tonight we celebrate! As much as we can, at least."

In one of the saddle bags that had been slung over a low tree branch they took out cured meats and a spit which they assembled over the fire. They ate once the meat had finished cooking. As she ate, Mari wondered why it was they weren't eating the lembas as they had the night before. Just as this thought crossed her mind, the elves came back, cleaner and in brighter spirits than before (which she hadn't thought possible). With them came Legolas who, she realized, hadn't left with them. That seemed rather odd to her. Then it hit her. He was the one keeping watch.