CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Elvish Crush no2

Wow. Hi guys. Anyone still there?

Haven't been here for a while, but this story wasn't forgotten. I've read each and every review in the meantime, and I'm really so grateful for you readers. Thank you thank you thank you.

So, I'm working on this story, but I'm afraid I won't be able to post more regularly. Enjoy this one tho, and I'll see you rather sooner than later ;)

On October 24th, at ten o'clock in the morning, Frodo Baggins woke up.

Only a few minutes after having awoken, he fell asleep again.

Dylis had failed to mention this little detail to Ariel, and in all honesty, it made the entire ordeal a bit underwhelming.

Not that Ariel would've been able to do anything with the knowledge of Frodo being awake; she had been firmly told to stay out of anything to do with the hobbit.

But still. She had hoped to catch a glimpse of him or something.

It was, however, announced that there was to be a feast held for Frodo, and this prospect left Ariel slightly more excited. Of course, there was also the fact that visitors from far and wide roamed through the very same hallways she frequented— visitors whom Ariel knew to eventually end up in the Fellowship. That said, even though she hadn't yet seen the main character of this story in action, Ariel could feel her belly buzzing with butterflies now that the story was starting to feel real.

This morning, when she walked through the corridors on her way to have breakfast, Ariel suddenly heard people speak in a language she had never heard before. Their voices were gruff, the words harsh and gutteral, and she couldn't help but stop walking to listen for a bit.

If she had to compare it to any language, it would have been something akin to Hebrew, or perhaps Turkish. It was absolutely fascinating to listen to the flow of speech, so utterly different from the lyrical language of the elves Ariel had been surrounded by these weeks.

Her fascination was stopped short when four stout dwarves came round the corner. They stopped abruptly as they eyed Ariel suspiciously.

Ariel flushed red and waved sheepishly. "Hi."

The dwarves walked on.

During her visit to the training grounds with Lithir to watch Eluwen, Ariel spotted another delegation party. They were elves— as beautiful as any of them— though they had a different air about them. Apart from the hair colour, it was difficult to pinpoint what made them different from the elves of Rivendell.

Ariel cocked her head curiously as she studied the three elves practising archery. Each elf shot their arrows dead-centre, and even before the thunk of the arrow embedding the target was heard, another was already nocked on the string. Ariel wondered whatever they still had to practise for.

"Lithir?" she asked, having difficulty tearing her eyes away from them.

"Hmm?"

Ariel looked sideways to see her friend soak up what little warmth the sun provided. It was one of those autumn days where the sun shone deceptively bright, luring Rivendell's population outside only for them to be met with chilly air.

But of course, elves didn't feel the cold the way mortals did. So here she was, wrapped in a soft blanket outside, provided by Lithir, who was clutching his own cloak around him. All this just to continue their own little ritual of watching elves train, which somehow had become so precious to her.

For just a moment, Ariel's eyes went unfocused as she thought about it. Only a few months ago, she would waste the hours away by staring at her phone screen. Now, she was wasting the hours away by watching beautiful beings torture themselves with pointy weapons.

When Ariel didn't immediately reply, Lithir squinted an eye open as he turned his head to her questionably.

"What is it?" Lithir prodded curiously.

"Who are they?" Ariel wanted to know, nodding to the archery zone. "They don't look like your typical brunette Rivendell elf."

Lithir followed her gaze. "That is because they are wood elves," he said simply, but then saw Ariel's blank face. "Wood elves," he repeated with a shrug. "They come from the other side of the Misty Mountains, either Lothlórien or, in this case, Mirkwood."

Ariel frowned. "Do all elves from Lothlórien and Mirkwood have blond hair, then?" she asked.

Lithir looked at her slightly incredulously. "Of course not," he said with a laugh. At Ariel's unfaltering curious gaze, he rolled his eyes. "Well, wood elves can be divided into two peoples," Lithir explained. "There are the Sindar, whose hair is oftentimes dark and sometimes silver-grey, and there are the Silvan, with hair that ranges from golden to russet."

Ariel nodded thoughtfully as she mentally matched each elf's appearance with the description Lithir just gave.

"One could hardly speak of two peoples anymore, however, as they have coalesced considerably into one woodland people."

The smooth, silvery voice came from behind them, and Ariel turned her head.

Her eyes travelled from the leather boots all the way up to the elf's face. Just as with every ellon who got in Ariel's vicinity, her breath was caught in her throat.

He was extremely beautiful— a word of which Ariel realised had become a tad generic for elves. His face was stunning, all angles and hard edges but still soft in an ethereal way, and he had eyes that were the grey-blue of roiling seas.

His hair was long and flowed freely in the slight breeze, as if someone had strategically put a fan in front of him for the effect, and from that moment on Ariel decided she had a specific weakness for ellyn with hair the colour of the golden sun.

Realising Lithir had already gotten to his feet, Ariel shot up as well and brushed off her dress.

The ellon in front of them was smiling pleasantly at Lithir, and since his attention wasn't on her, Ariel took the brief moment to take in his garments. He wore a tunic of a deep green shade, and there was something embroidered in silver thread on his right chest. It was a royal crest, and again Ariel was struck by the realisation that seeing such an emblem on someone right in front of her was far from mundane. If someone had told her three months ago that she'd be living with royal elves for a few weeks, Ariel would've cackled in their face.

She was openly studying the royal crest when the fabric shifted and strands of flaxen hair fell over it. Ariel's eyes flickered up and found the ellon looking at her and Lithir for a moment, as if assessing the relationship between them. Conscious, Ariel shifted a little.

"Ernil Legolas," Lithir said with a wide smile, hand over heart and bowing his head a little, "Le suilon."*

Ariel's jaw dropped and she gazed openly at the elf upon hearing Lithir drop the name so casually. Legolas. This was Legolas. What the—

"Mae govannen, Lithir," he replied as he returned the gesture, then gave Lithir a firm yet merry look. "An gell nín, laitho i enos."*

Ariel did not even try to catch the words that were said. All she had eyes for was the elf, her mind racing and her shoulders tensing now that she knew it was Legolas who stood before her— who had been the object of fourteen-year-old Ariel's brief but nearly obsessive admiration. He was even more handsome than his movie counterpart— that's probably why she didn't recognise him at first glance.

"Wow," she breathed in wonder.

The ellon's eyes— Legolas' eyes!— fell on Ariel then, and there was a sparkle of mirth and amusement.

"Ariel," Lithir said, rolling his eyes and touching her elbow briefly, "this is pri— Legolas of the Woodland Realm."

Ariel started and felt her cheeks grow warm.

Legolas inclined his head, and Ariel tried to copy their greeting gestures as best as she could and forced a smile to appear on her face.

"Mae govannen, hîr nin," she said with a heavy accent, inclining her head as well.

"El gila erin lu govaned mín," Legolas said, and, again not even trying to figure out what it meant, Ariel nearly swooned at the melodious words.

"Ariel has only just started learning the elven tongue, Legolas," Lithir said, looking very inclined to swat Ariel's head for her behaviour.

Ariel blinked and a blush crept up to her face. "Yes— I am afraid I have no idea what you just said. My Lord," she added quickly, then chuckled awkwardly and immediately cringed at herself. Oh, God, another crush on some unobtainable elf was definitely not what she needed.

Legolas smiled, all dimples and twinkling eyes. "It is a greeting," he explained politely.

Lithir chuckled. "A very poetic, elaborate manner of greeting," he added good-naturedly, and turned to Ariel as he clarified, "Princes and lords are rather fond of those, experience tells me."

Legolas grinned full-out now, and shrugged his shoulders in a way that said 'what can I say?'

Ariel thought she might have melted a bit.

"Speaking of which," the ellon said to Lithir, his voice lowering slightly, "have you seen Aragorn?"

"He is likely to be in Elladan's quarters," Lithir replied. "He and Elrohir returned from the Angle only this morn. They seemed to have much to discuss."

Ariel turned her head to Lithir upon hearing him falter a little, and she brushed his hand lightly as she shot him a comforting smile. Any mention of the Dunedaín's settlements still made him uncomfortable.

They didn't notice how the elf's eyes flickered from the gesture to their faces, and how his lips tugged up a little.

"Hannon le, Lithir," he said as he dipped his head. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Ariel. Na lu govaned mín."*

He left. Ariel craned her head as she watched him walk away and go round the corner into some hallway, until Lithir gave her a half-hearted jab in the side. She started, snapping her head to him with a scowl.

Lithir shook his head and sighed as he raised his eyes to the heavens. "Eru help the girl pining after unattainable elven nobles," he muttered.

Ariel rolled her eyes and swatted his arm. "Oh, shut it," she said. "Nothing wrong with admitting he's handsome. But what did I hear you say? Lord Elrond's sons have returned? Has Angharad come with them?"

Lithir nodded. "Yes," he replied. "He is resting now. I have spoken him only briefly."

"Well, I'm glad your friend has finally returned," she said with a knowing smile. "You can admit you've missed him, you know."

His eyes flickered to her, his lips tugging up slightly. "It is funny that you always think we Dúnedain are emotionally constipated," he said, making Ariel snort. "I'll have you know we are quite good at feelings. We merely do not always see the need to put them into words."

"There's nothing bad about voicing your feelings," Ariel defended. "Sometimes, it's nice to hear you did well, or that someone loves you or misses you."

Ariel turned back around to where Eluwen was just in time to see her come to a stop in front of an ellon, her blade inches from his neck.

Ariel grinned and called, "That's our girl!"

Eluwen's head snapped up in her direction and the elleth beamed at the compliment. With a challenging grin, Ariel shot Lithir a look.

The man simply rolled his eyes and chuckled. "Were you not supposed to meet up with Dylis?"

Ariel's eyes widened. "Shit."

Ten minutes later— during which Ariel had been running through the corridors in search of the blonde— Ariel let herself fall on the plush sofa in the Hall of Fire, empty except for her, Dylis and Bilbo. Adjusting the pillows to make herself more comfortable, she leaned back wearily.

Dylis had wanted to go over the Council of tomorrow again, so Ariel was a bit surprised to see Bilbo with her. She shot the blonde a questioning look over Bilbo's curly, grey head.

Dylis shrugged helplessly.

Ariel huffed a breathy laugh. Over the course of the weeks, she had gotten to know Bilbo well enough to know he did whatever he pleased, and that once he had settled himself in a nice comfortable seat, he wouldn't be the one to move away.

But then Ariel frowned.

"Bilbo?"

"Yes, dear?" The hobbit, as always, didn't look up from his book, scribbling the pages away as if he was running out of time.

"Why are you not with Frodo?" Ariel asked tentatively. "You do know he has gained consciousness this morning, don't you?"

He still didn't look up. "Of course I know, you silly girl!" he said as he waved the hand holding his quill, then continued. "I have to finish this," he explained like it was obvious. "I shall see him tonight."

Over the top of the hobbit's head, Ariel shared a look with Dylis.

"Now, don't go doing that again," Bilbo said, finally laying his quill down and studying the state of his ink-blotted fingers distractedly. "I may be small but my blind spots are further back than you think."

Ariel and Dylis snorted. "Will you at least be there at the feast tonight?" Dylis asked.

Bilbo shook his head. "No… no, I don't do those things anymore," he said, voice suddenly a bit thin. "I'm too tired."

"But Frodo will be there," Ariel said.

"I know Frodo will be there," Bilbo replied snappishly. Then he sighed dejectedly. "Frodo is a good lad, he has his friends, he doesn't need his old Uncle Bilbo. I…" He trailed off, staring into the distance. "I have a feeling this journey is not over for him… and seeing me, old and weary and stretched thin…" He waved a hand and shook his head again. "Ah, it would do him no good."

There was a moment of silence, Bilbo's book and quill and ink briefly forgotten.

Then Dylis took his quill, closed the bottle of ink and lay the book aside open, so that the fresh inked letters could dry.

"Then let us at least finish that song, shan't we?" Dylis suggested kindly.

Bilbo started from his contemplation and sucked in a feeble breath. "Yes," he said. "Yes. I suppose we could do that."

"Good," Dylis said, eyeing Ariel for a moment, and Ariel understood they would talk about the Council later tonight.

"Now, where were we…"

o0o

"Well? How do I look?"

Ariel brushed the skirt of her long dress self-consciously, tugging a bit at her hair. Dylis was wonderful when it came to hairstyling and had made two small braids that went just past the top of Ariel's head, from which her brown tresses then flowed freely. It had grown much faster than usual as well— likely it had something to do with the oils the elves used for their hair, Dylis figured aloud. However, she had done Ariel's hair so tightly that the brunette felt as though her skin was stretched thin over her skull.

A few tiny strands fell out of the braids, and Dylis clucked her tongue. "It was good, until you started rearranging my work of art," she chided, starting forward to tuck the strands in. "It was very kind of Eluwen to lend you that dress," Dylis said as she went to work on Ariel's hair again.

Ariel hummed. "It's a bit tight 'round my chest, though," she muttered, pulling at the deep purple fabric a little. Dylis swatted her hand with a disapproving sound. "What? I can't help my boobs!" the younger girl complained.

Dylis rolled her eyes. "You should be grateful ellith do not wear corsets," she said, stepping back to assess her work. She had deliberately let out some strands to frame Ariel's face. After a moment, she nodded, clearly satisfied. "And anyway, the dress suits you. You look darling."

Ariel frowned. "You're really in your element here," she remarked. "Have you been suppressing your peculiar way of speech all these years?"

Dylis shrugged. "Tried to, yes," she said. "Except when I was with Will."

The mention of Will triggered a simultaneous reaction of the girls: there was a brief moment of weighty quiet as their eyes went unfocused, staring into the air.

Then Ariel shook her head and brushed off her dress again, startling Dylis, and the two of them went back to admiring the beautiful needlework on their sleeves and skirt.

"Red looks wonderful on you," Ariel said to Dylis. "You're always hiding yourself in those earthy colours."

"There is nothing wrong with warm earthy colours. But thank you," Dylis added with a somewhat abashed smile. "It is only a feast— not some kind of ball."

"You were the one who said we should be cleaned up nicely," Ariel pointed out, reaching out to Dylis' long, wavy hair and combing it gently with her fingers. Dylis had done a half updo in her hair which stood out lovely because of her almost flaxen, natural highlights. Ariel often wished she had hair like hers— she often thought her own hair to be just plain brown.

But, looking in the tiny mirror that hung on the wall, she smiled a little at the face she saw there. She had cleaned up well. And it didn't even matter her ex wasn't here to see it, or any other guy within her league. She knew there was no amount of make-up or number of pretty gowns to attract the attention of a handsome elf. A compliment such as "You look pretty for a mortal" suddenly seemed more than enough if it came from a gorgeous elf.

She snorted. Had she been in one of those fanfictions she had tried reading in ninth grade, either Legolas would have already fallen in love with her— or Aragorn would already have ditched Arwen for her. The thought nearly had her gasping for air.

Dylis shot her an odd look, and Ariel laughed even harder. "It's just— wow. It's just so weird." She shook her head. "I mean, we're going to the feast for Frodo, and— and tomorrow's the Council of Elrond, and today I met— I met Legolas, and it's all real!"

Just as sudden as her laughter started, it died down, and Ariel felt her shoulders tense, could see her hands shake. She took a deep breath in, rolled her shoulders and neck, and let the air whoosh out. When she felt herself become calm again, she looked at Dylis again. "If Will only knew… He'd be so jealous if he only knew…"

Dylis smiled gently. "Will would have absolutely loved Rivendell," she said with a small sigh and looked around the room, and what was beyond the arched windows. "But with all the handsome ellyn here, I don't think he'd ever have a moment to breathe calmly." She gave Ariel a knowing look. "Lithir told me about your little meeting with prince Legolas."

Ariel rolled her eyes. "I'm not ashamed," she said with a shrug. "I mean, these elves know they're pretty, so who am I to pretend otherwise?"

It was not the complete truth; Ariel had to admit she felt a bit stupid for saying "Wow" right in front of the elf.

It seemed Ariel wasn't really doing well when it came to first impressions. Likely Gimli was among those four dwarves she had been low-key eaves-dropping on this morning, and they had all eyed her suspiciously and disdainfully.

And then came the fact that Aragorn was most likely to be extremely weirded out by her and her (literally) otherworldly story, and wasn't keen on talking with her either.

Conclusion: perhaps it was better for Ariel to stay away from the Fellowship members, if only for her own sake. If these story heroes were to remember her at all, she did not want them to remember her as that one freaky mortal that came up as a brief sidestep in a conversation about "that time we were in Rivendell, remember?"

She could already see how that conversation was to go.

She was startled out of her musings when she heard bells chiming through the city.

"It's time," Dylis said with a faint excited smile. "Let us go."

They left the room and walked side by side through the corridors. "So," Dylis said lowly in Ariel's ear, and slowed in her steps when they saw a couple of elves walked a small distance in front of them, "we will probably have assigned seats. If anything, I don't think Elrond will have us share a table with Council members because of our— you know. And I don't think it's a good idea to… engage with any of the members of the Fellowship."

Ariel faltered in her steps a bit. "Why, actually?" she asked curiously. Of course, she hadn't really planned on it anyway, but certainly there was no harm in talking with them? She had talked with Aragorn and Legolas already, what had been the harm in that?

"Well, our story is quite a feeble one, to be honest," Dylis said. "We are Dúnedain who started working in Bree away from their own people— which is highly unusual in itself. Even though you're a 'distant cousin' from Aragorn, you don't know Sindarin, and we seek advice from Lord Elrond about a matter important enough for us to be present tomorrow at the Council."

Ariel clamped her mouth shut and nodded. "I see."

"Yes, it doesn't really add up, does it?" Dylis said with a chuckle. "So we must not give them reason to question us too much."

Unfortunately, Ariel and Dylis could say goodbye to their plans as soon as they walked through the open double doors leading to the hall. Momentarily distracted by the light atmosphere and warmly decorated hall Ariel had so often eaten her meals in, she didn't notice Lindir approach them.

"Ah, lady Ariel, lady Dylis," he greeted with an incline of his head and a smile. "Allow me to guide you to your table."

Dylis accepted graciously and tugged Ariel with her.

Ariel followed, but was surprised when the ellon lead them straight past the table Lithir was sitting at. His eyes found hers as she walked by and Ariel waved briefly at him with a grin. Her eyes widened when she saw Angharad, all cleaned up and beard trimmed, sitting beside him.

The man nodded at her in greeting with a small smile— a whole lot warmer than his usual demeanour.

She turned back to Lindir again, and nearly stumbled over the hem of her dress when she saw at which table he had stopped.

At her and Dylis' approach, the elves of Mirkwood all stood up at once. Ariel and Dylis eyed each other slightly exasperatedly.

So much for not engaging with the Fellowship. Why were they even assigned to sit with them in the first place? Wouldn't the Mirkwood elves want to socialise with the other elves?

After being introduced by Lindir, the elves in turn introduced themselves as well. The names were, besides Legolas of course, strange and quite difficult to pronounce, so they either flew right over Ariel's head or she didn't know which belonged to whom anymore.

Ariel blushed fiercely when Legolas greeted her kindly, clearly recognising her from the earlier afternoon at the training grounds. Upon seeing Dylis' suppressed smirk, she shot the blonde a brief warning look. She did not need Dylis teasing her about her stupid tendency to crush on elves.

Lindir had already gone to guide the next guests to their tables, and as soon as the ladies sat down, the elves dutifully followed.

It was almost as though Ariel was in one Jane Austen's novels, with all these mannerisms and conventions. She felt a bit overwhelmed by the whole ordeal, and that feeling only increased when she started looking around the hall.

The hall was already filled with unintelligible chatter and the clatter of cutlery against plates. Tables were dispersed evenly throughout the hall, and with it the many guests and citizens around it.

Her eyes settled on the dais, on the lords of Rivendell and their guest of honour, Frodo Baggins.

He was so small! Even though he was seated on a stack of pillows, his feet were dangling at least ten inches above the floor, and he looked around him rather abashedly. He looked completely out of place among the lordly, graceful elves. Luckily, however, the dwarf was now striking up a conversation with him, Ariel noticed, and he seemed to feel a bit more at ease.

That made one of them.

Her eyes found Lord Glorfindel seated at the same table as the hobbit, and she allowed herself to watch him for five seconds tops— no more. It was… refreshing, of sorts, to see him wear something else than the broad, silver armour he sported at the training grounds. He did not look remotely menacing in his fine, indigo blue tunic, with a delicate circlet atop his golden head. Still intimidating and painfully unattainable, but less menacing and even more attractive.

Ariel humphed quietly and averted her eyes. Instead, she let her eyes wander around the table.

Which, in truth, was not much better.

Every time Ariel's eyes happened to fall on one of the elves seated at her table, her cheeks would grow warm and she'd look away hastily. She'd thought that by now, she would've gotten used to seeing elves day in day out. But then again, it was Legolas who was sitting at an arm's reach distance.

As everyone waited for dinner to be served, elves went by with bottles of either a deep red wine or ale. Ariel brought her wineglass to her nose, sniffing it, swirling it a little before taking a sip.

She hummed, pleasantly surprised by the rich and warm taste of the red wine. Dylis nearly rolled her eyes at her.

"Is the wine to your satisfaction?" Dylis asked mockingly. Everyone knew that elven wine was better than any wine made by Men.

"Better than any wine I've tasted before," Ariel said before taking another sip.

"Watch out, though," Dylis muttered lowly and jerked her head to the glass in Ariel's hand. "Elvish wine is stronger than we are used to."

Ariel took the hint and put the glass back down on the table.

"Are you familiar with Elvish wines?"

Ariel and Dylis looked up at the elf who had spoken. He was seated opposite of Ariel, and had strawberry blond hair reaching to his chest. His face was slightly less angular than the others', making him look a little younger and less intimidating.

Still intimidating as all elves were, but less.

"Not so much that I know about the wine outside of Rivendell, unfortunately," Dylis said graciously.

The elf took the bait. "Ah, I could not imagine living a life without Dorwinion wine," he said dramatically, earning a chuckle from one of his companions. "You are missing out," he said with a smile as he raised his glass to Dylis and Ariel in sympathy.

"I have heard of it," Ariel said thoughtfully. "What is so different about it?"

"Let us say that in Eryn Galen, it is not so rare to see an elf stumble," the ellon replied with a cheeky wink.

Ariel couldn't help but feel her cheeks warm as she laughed softly.

"Ai, Glasdir!" the silver-haired ellon beside him said as he nudged him playfully. "Do not say such things. We have a reputation to maintain."

The strawberry blond elf named Glasdir just shrugged with an impish smile, reminding Ariel of the mischievous popular kid in high school— only this elf was probably a couple centuries old.

"So elves do get drunk," Ariel said with a grin.

Underneath the table, Dylis deliberately stepped on Ariel's foot. The younger girl winced and pressed her lips closed. What had she done wrongly now?

Glasdir and his friend didn't seem to notice and just snickered a little at Ariel's comment with a non-committal shrug. Legolas, however, watched Ariel and Dylis with a tight-lipped, but somewhat amused smile. Ariel decided to take another sip of her wine just for the sake of hiding her reddened face behind something.

"It takes a very strong wine for an elf to lose their footing," Glasdir's friend, the one with silver hair, said. "Fortunately, Dorwinion wine is exactly that."

From diagonally across her, the Prince of Mirkwood huffed quietly, a small tug at his lips. "Fortunately," he echoed, pausing with his glass before his lips. "Interesting choice of words, Glawon. I, for one, remember you almost falling into the abysses after trying to impress a certain fellow guard."

Ariel always thought that elves couldn't be anything other than cool and collected, but she found her hypothesis debunked as she watched Glawon's face flush red.

She had to stop herself from snickering and hid her smile behind her glass.

Glasdir noticed, however, because he turned to her and said in a feigned whisper, "I will have you know that it happens more often than we elves would like to admit."

Ariel chuckled incredulously, a bit baffled at how light-hearted these elves were. "But wait…" She frowned a little as she thought about Legolas' words. "Abysses?" she parroted questioningly. "In what way are there abysses, exactly?"

"It involves narrow walkways with no banisters and drunk elves generally avoiding them," Glasdir provided, giving Glawon a pointed look.

"Narrow walkways," Ariel muttered, shaking her head. "What is it with elves and narrow walkways?"

Conversation flowed more easily as dinner was served by the Rivendell elves. The dishes they provided were even more delicious than they usually were; if this was the quality when Rivendell had guests coming over, Ariel thought there should be guests coming every week.

Ariel was also glad that Dylis wasn't as stoic as expected. Of course, there was a handful of times when the elder gave Ariel a subtle elbow in the side whenever she made a comment that was deemed inappropriate.

Eventually, dinner came to a close, and all were invited to the Hall of Fire. The evening passed with song and laughter— and after being reunited with his cousin, Bilbo even performed the song he had worked on so diligently with Dylis and Ariel.

After receiving a graceful applause from the audience, Bilbo raised his glass to Ariel and Dylis with a wink. Ariel grinned, returning the gesture, watching as he and Frodo went to sit down along the further wall, talking quietly.

The other three hobbits were fooling around a little closer to where Ariel and Dylis were seated. Watching the hobbit she'd already met when they were in the Shire, Ariel realised Merry had yet to recognise her. Would it be polite if Ariel approached and greeted him?

Her eyes were drawn away from them when Dylis suddenly went to stand up from her seat. Confused, Ariel looked up, seeing none other than Aragorn approach the two of them. She stood up as well, eyes searching for Arwen. Unfortunately, the elven lady was in deep conversation with Lindir and Erestor near the dais.

"My lord," Dylis greeted with a light dip of her head.

He stopped a few feet away from them and nodded in return. "Lady Dylis," he said in turn, before meeting the brunette's gaze. "Lady Ariel."

"Hello," Ariel said, a little sheepish and reserved.

There was a small pause as the man seemed hesitant with his words. Eventually, he settled on, "Walk with me?"

Ariel nodded and left Dylis' side, the elder giving Ariel's arm a brief squeeze.

The two Dúnedain crossed the hall to the double doors. As Ariel passed Arwen, the elleth gave her an encouraging nod. Ariel inhaled and exhaled sharply, already suspecting what Aragorn wanted to talk about with her.

Despite the glaring obviousness of it all, Aragorn did not say anything for quite a bit. They roamed through the hallways at a leisured pace, and with every step taken in silence, Ariel was driven more and more mad.

"Please forgive my directness," Ariel eventually blurted as she came to a stop in the middle of the corridor. There was little light here; the painting on the wall was the only thing that was well-lit. Ironically, it was an oil painting of a company trekking through a thick forest, all dressed in dark grey cloaks, all with dark hair and all standing tall despite the dense landscape they were navigating through. Ariel faced the man fully, his face cast in a yellowish hue. "I know what it is you want to discuss. I don't think I can bear this silence any longer."

Aragorn's eyebrows shot up, and Ariel was surprised to see him caught off guard. Immediately, she regretted being so straightforward. Was she supposed to stay quiet until he spoke up? Had she just been terribly impolite by assuming to know the purpose of this detour? Was Middle-Earth a place where high-context communication was preferred over low-context?

She was about to apologise when Aragorn exhaled deeply, looking away from her almost a bit abashedly.

"You are right. Forgive me," he said with a nod of his head. He wavered for a second, as if carefully weighing the words he wanted to say. "Lord Elrond told me… he told me a lot, frankly."

He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly, and Ariel was stricken by the fact that this was just a man, not some invincible king-to-be. This man did not have all the answers, and he was just as lost as Ariel was when it came to his past. The realisation made her a little less anxious about having this conversation.

She waited for him to continue, not wanting to disrupt his train of thought.

"I have… many questions," he said, looking at her earnestly, "but I will not swamp you with them now, naturally. Lord Elrond also told me you have not unraveled everything yourself, either, so I understand if you want some time first." Ariel's lips tugged up a little. "I merely wished to tell you that I am willing to become more acquainted with you. If the wisest believe your story to be true, then I will not doubt them."

Ariel smiled, shoulders sagging in relief. This was not what she had expected; this was much better than all the worst-case scenarios she'd pictured in her head. She still sensed some hesitance coming from him. And she did not miss the way he implied that even though he didn't doubt Elrond, he did obviously doubt her. But this was expected. She could deal with that.

"I am really glad to hear that," Ariel said. "It's true that I haven't figured out everything yet. I don't know much about many things— whether it is my past or the past in general. But I am learning more day by day, so I'm definitely OK with getting to know each other better and answering your questions the best I can." Ariel hesitated for a moment. "You should know, though... It's not like I'm out for your crown, or something."

Aragorn stilled, casting a fleeting glance down the corridor. Ariel wondered why she felt the need to clarify this to him. She knew about his own mixed feelings towards his birth right, and this was so not the time to bring it up.

"I do not doubt your intentions," he said after a beat of visible discomfort. He smiled a little, but genuinely, and turned around to the direction they came from. "Shall we head back to the party?"

Ariel nodded. "Yes, let's go." It was with a smile that she entered the Hall of Fire again, and as Aragorn bid her farewell for the rest of the evening to stand by Arwen's side, the elleth gave her a knowing wink and a grin.