A.N/ So sorry this took so long! I was so busy with school and fretting over third quarter report cards that I haven't had much time to write, so this probably isn't as good as the first.
Disclaimer: See chapter one.
READ AND REVIEW!! The more I get, the faster I'll update. Please?!
The smell of bread baking in the oven was what roused Haldir from a restful slumber. He stretched, hard muscles going taut beneath marble white skin, and pushed himself up so that he was sitting on the bed, tousled hair forming a halo of moon silver blonde over his shoulders and around his face. He could hear Vanafindon move with the pace of a snail into the kitchen area, and so he ambled out as well, feeling none the worse for the wear, unlike his counterpart. "A fine morn this is, no?" he smirked, seeing the dark rings beneath the young warden's eyes.
Vanafindon glared as best he could at him, though the effect was ruined by his squinting, and replied, "If I could see it and ignore the pounding in my head at the same time, then yes it is indeed."
"What did I tell you, brother? You had far too much to drink last night, and look where it got you! You do this every time you return from your post. And to think you would have learned after all those times, but no! You have to be pigheaded," Apsenniel said, going up to him with a pot of tea and a cup in her hands.
Haldir was quick to note that this time, she was completely dry. A strained expression flitted briefly across his face as memories of last night resurfaced in his mind, but then he shoved them aside, and forced himself to think of something, anything, other than the way her dress clung to her skin, and nearly went transparent.
Vanafindon sighed in relief after he drained his first cup of the tea she brewed, and was able to open his blue eyes farther, the green color receding from his features.
"Better? Then you can start the dishes once breakfast has finished," her voice interrupted his musings on nothing.
"But Penny," he whined, calling her by her childhood nickname.
"No! You deserve it after what you did last night. I always clean up after you and your friends with no complaint, the least you could do is wash dishes your sister and Marchwarden have no further need or use of."
"She does have you there," Haldir agreed.
"Oh brilliant, even my friend and leader is against me on this one. I did warn her! She just went ahead and did exactly what I told her not to do."
"How did you even do that? There was hardly any time," she said, bending over the oven and inspecting the bread, before she shoved it back in.
"You were busy with dinner, so I decided I would put the bucket over," he grumbled. "You did deserve it, you know."
"And what was it that I supposedly did, pray tell?" she said, her hands settling on narrow hips.
"You hit me in front of Alassë. That merited the bucket of water, I think."
"Ah, but that is where you are wrong, dear brother. You never think," she smirked.
He opened his mouth to reply, and then closed it again. Instead, he plied himself with more tea.
Haldir snorted into his own mug, and then watched avidly as she set the bread down in front of him.
"Help yourself to as much as you want, Marchwarden," she said. "I have other things baking as well."
"Absolutely splendid, dear heart," he said happily. Taking up the long, polished silver knife in his strong, assured hands, he quickly and efficiently cut through the spongy, soft white loaf. Steam rose up from it, and he breathed in its fragrant, quiet aroma. His toes curled in delight as he set the first bite against his tongue, and sighed in near ecstasy. He glanced up suddenly, aware that a pair of searching grey eyes were trained on him.
"How do you find it, milord?" she questioned with a nervous waver in her otherwise strong voice.
"I find it well, very well. Thank you for asking," he said.
"Good then," she murmured, walking swiftly to the oven. "That is good." A slight tremor ran through her as she remembered those stormy eyes of his from last night as they gazed ever so solemnly into her own. She removed a tureen of porridge from the stove top, and doused the small fire underneath with a quick splash of cool water ladled from a large jar. Moving gracefully over towards them, she set it down on top of a thick, woolen hot plate. "Marchwarden, would you like any?"
Swallowing thickly, he downed the enormous mouthful of bread with a gulp of still-hot tea, winced as it scalded all the way down his throat, and then rasped, "If it please you, yes." He smiled when she gave a tinkling laugh, and then watched almost lustfully when she put a generous amount into his bowl. "Hannon le," he said eagerly, before he set his spoon into it.
"Miunthel nín, I do believe that you have some competition between you and your culinary delights," Vanafindon chuckled sarcastically.
"Oh shut up, will you? Neithadol!" she said, thoroughly exasperated with the golden haired male. "You are so immature..."
Haldir was hardly paying attention as he dug his spoon into the now half-empty bowl, but looked up at the last sentence his friend had said. "There is no competition between the two, for I know to whom my heart truly belongs..." but his words were cut off by a loud pounding on the door. "That would be my brothers," he sighed, gazing at the porridge and bread in remorse. "This will most likely have to go unfinished."
As Apsenniel opened the door, two large, yet lean elves burst in, nearly knocking her down in the process.
"Rúmil, Orophin!" Haldir said angrily. "Watch where you are going! You nearly ran into Lady Apsenniel!"
Ignoring him, the two said, "We have been looking everywhere for you! Where were you all this time?"
"Away from you, thankfully," he snorted, going back to his breakfast.
Grumbling, Orophin muttered, "Now that was not very nice at all, brother. You of all people..."
"That comment should be expected the most from," he finished.
"Is that any good?" Rúmil said, leaning over towards him.
Orophin pushed him to the side and said, "All you think about is your stomach. Morgoth's balls, and you are supposed to be my kin!"
Straightening her gown, Apsenniel stood straight and said sarcastically, "Mae govannen, it is a pleasure to meet you two as well. Please, let me know if I may get you anything."
"Actually yes, some of that bread would be wonder-ouch!" Rúmil began, but was cut off by Haldir slamming his hand down over the crown of his youngest brother's head.
"You are the rudest elf ever born! Why Naneth and Ada did not drown you in the Nimrodel when they got the chance is beyond me!" he exclaimed, ears burning crimson.
"I do not mind, Marchwarden. After all, my own brother does the same thing. That is one thing that we have in common, at least."
Looking over to her, he said, "You are right, Apsenniel. But I beg of you, let the bastard starve. He deserves it."
Smirking, she went over to the stove and served them anyway. "All this food must disappear somehow," she shrugged in explanation. "Vanafindon is too ill at the moment to do more than wash and dry dishes."
After the two took their first bites of her food, their eyes widened, and immediately they said together, "Goheno nín, Apsenniel. That was utterly rude of us."
Haldir looked at the two incredulously, and said, "If your food can teach them manners, then I wonder what else it can do?"
"Fill up hungry Marchwardens, that is what," she laughed, whisking away his empty bowl and replacing it with eggs, a slice of bread, fruit, and two strips of bacon. She placed a water goblet in front of him as well, and filled it near to the brim.
"If you are this good at cooking, it makes me wonder what else you are able to do," he said, taking a large sip.
"Nagging," Vanafindon said.
"Are not all females though?" was Orophin's muffled reply.
"This is just about it," she said, ignoring them. "My sewing is terrible, and my singing is worse than a deaf human's."
"You have no idea how true that is," her brother replied to the group.
They all burst into laughter, and Rúmil said, "It seems like you are speaking through experience, 'Findon."
"I am," he grimaced, making them roar in mirth again. He began to gather the plates and bowls up, but left the goblets in case they wanted more to drink.
"I beg your forgiveness, but I must leave. I was supposed to go and meet Faelwen at the river today to begin the laundry. Vanafindon, I will need your clothes, and Marchwarden, if you wish me to do yours as well..."
He blushed amidst the jeers of his brothers, and said, "No, hannon le, Apsenniel. I am fine."
Apsenniel was walking towards a secluded part of the river when she heard three female voices conversing together.
"...he stayed the night, too!" one exclaimed.
She moved silently over through the bushes for a closer look at who they were.
"No! You cannot be telling the truth, Miriel."
"I am," came her satisfied voice again. "I saw him go in yestereve, and not come out. Then, his brothers nearly pounded down the door this morning, and almost knocked over that scrawny elleth, Apsenniel, and Haldir emerged later, wearing his border patrol clothes."
"You do not like Apsenniel?" another, whom she recognized to be Malthenniel, questioned.
"Not an ounce! She does not even look like an elf, with her stringy yellow hair and twig figure!"
Cruel laughter followed.
Apsenniel looked down at herself, judging the plain brown work dress she was wearing, and, placing the heavy laundry basket down, measured her hips with her hands. They were very narrow indeed. Tears came to her eyes as more insults were hurled through the air, unaware that she was listening. Turning, she picked up her basket and fled, not stopping until she came to Lady Galadriel's Garden, whence upon she fell, weeping, to the ground amidst the roses' thorns.
Soft footsteps alerted her to another's presence, and a light hand on her shoulder drew her around. "Dear one, what troubles you?" Galadriel's low voice said.
"You know already, híril nín. The others...do they all think that?"
"Haldir certainly does not, and neither do his brothers. Vanafindon would die for you, were the situation ever to arise. And my husband and I do not, either. Hebo estel, little one. The world weeps for your pain. Those ellith do not even know you, and yet they make such assumptions about your character. You are much lovelier than they make you out to be."
"But it is true! I am a stick! I do not look like an elf, I look like an underfed human child!" she wailed.
"Hush, Apsenniel. You do not," was her firm response. "Do not let them get to you, for they will take you down, peg by peg until naught but your bones are left."
Standing up, she held out her hand, and lifted the trembling young female up. "Come. Let us walk to keep your mind from your suffering."
Sniffling, she nodded, and managed a weak smile. "I am coming."
She did not even notice the ellon they passed on the way through, but Haldir stopped, and looked after her red, tear streaked face in puzzlement, unsure of what to do.
Translations:
Hiril nin-my lady
Hedo estel-have hope
Goheno nin-my apologies, I beg your forgiveness
Alasse-Joy
Hannon le-thank you
Miunthel nin-my sister
Neithadol-wrong head, as close as I could get to asshole in Elvish
Naneth-mother
Ada-Father
ellith-female elves
