A/N: As Northrop Fryeonce once said, 'Literature is a world that we try to build up and enter at the same time.' When the real world caused me to withdraw from the fanfic world, I quickly withdrew from the LOTR world – in particular, from the Unruly World. On occasion, the desire to write would strike me and so I'd try to re-enter the Unruly World, but was refused entry. And so the story paused, waiting. Thankfully, I've just rediscovered the key, access has been granted, and I have been frolicking in the Homely House…come join me.

Chapter Thirteen: Fluffy White Clouds

The resolute footsteps of a willowy healer echoed along the corridor as she strode down the passage towards the great library. Upon her face, a look of determination – she would find him, she had to find him. He had not been in his chambers, nor in the sitting room with the ladies of the court. With some amount of professional relief she had noted that he was not yet exerting himself in the stables nor practising at the training fields. But she did possess a growing sense of frustration – just where could a young ellon be?

Prising apart an imposing set of wooden doors, Oloriel, the lively daughter of Imladris, purposefully entered the library and continued her search. At one shelf, a thoughtful scholar flicked through well-worn pages. At the next, an historian pulled a heavy volume from amongst the tomes. Students sat quietly in the corner, transcribing their hefty works. A grey-gowned elleth murmured lines of flowery verse. The grand room was tranquil, its occupants only briefly noting the intruder before returning to their tasks. Oloriel walked softly amongst the shelves, lightly fingering leather-bound spines as she stared absent-mindedly at their titles. Herendil was nowhere to be seen.

Closing her eyes, and leaning back onto the shelf, Oloriel breathed deeply. What had inspired her to be so recklessly impulsive? Surely she could have waited until Herendil had healed. Surely – certainly – no-one would have minded if she had pursued him then? She suppressed a chuckle. She pursue him? Had she only waited, it could have been the other way around – the way it was supposed to be. Had it all just happened the way it was supposed to be, she would not have been given the opportunity to be so thoughtless, so unprofessional. There was now a young warrior, somewhere, who was upset, and quite probably very angry at her. And that tore at her heart.

Oloriel left the library and wandered aimlessly down a corridor. From a window she saw Arwen still in the garden, where she had left her some time ago. Her friend was sprawled on her back, looking at the sky. Her ebony hair fanned across the lush grass, glinting in the afternoon sun. She was immobile, but Oloriel sensed that she was not asleep, merely thinking. She regretted not asking her about Legolas, for there was much she did not know. Abandoning her search, she decided to rejoin Arwen in the garden.

X

Arwen lay in the garden, warmed by the sun. It was a comfortable position, and she did not want to move. The sky was unfathomable, such a solid bell-blue that she reached up as if attempting to touch it. There were fluffy white clouds in the distance, and she brushed her fingers through the air as though stroking them. Oh how lovely it was.

Footsteps, muffled by grass, caused Arwen to sit up and look around to her left. A blonde came into view. "Why hello Herendil. Is it not lovely this afternoon?"

"Indeed, it is very lovely" came the reply. The warrior looked around the garden for a moment before adding "I have just returned from a walk through the woods. It is very pleasant there."

Arwen smiled warmly at him "A woodelf must not be long parted from his trees, that I understand."

Herendil chuckled. "Aye, sometimes we are very simple creatures."

"I'm sure your carer would disagree with that!" Arwen joked, but quickly changed her demeanour upon observing her companion's distraction. She frowned, then gasped. "Oh my! Oloriel went off in search of you some time ago now. She did not encounter you then?"

The ellon raised an eybrow. "I have been walking…she has been looking for me?"

Arwen nodded. "Aye, 'tis so. I apologise for being so obtuse; I should have informed you immediately. Perhaps she has withdrawn to her chambers?" she offered, silently berating herself for her forgetfulness.

"My thanks, I must away and find her" he replied shortly, before turning decidedly and walking towards the House, leaving a curious Arwen behind him.

X

A resigned Oloriel traversed the marble hall before passing through the building's majestic front doors. About to begin her descent down the stairs, the healer started with surprise upon seeing Herendil climbing up them. The warrior halted and looked up at her inquisitively. "You were looking for me?"

Oloriel found her voice. "Yes. Yes I was." she managed.

Herendil tilted his head. "And? What was it that you wished to say?"

Upon hearing his curt voice, the healer's pulse quickened; he was not happy with her. She tried to regulate her breathing. "I wished to say…" she faltered. Breathe, she reminded herself. She regained a little composure. "I wished to tell you that I am impulsive, and sometimes I do things that I should not!" Oloriel blurted. Immediately, she regretted her bluntness. She stared apprehensively into the male's face.

The ellon looked up at her anxious face and climbed the remaining stairs until he was but one rung below her, their eyes level. "And was that moment borne solely out of impulsive whim, or was there any other motive at play?" he asked softly.

Oloriel released a shaky breath, and looked directly into the warrior's eyes. "Despite my spontaneity, I have never before acted in such a manner; of that I can assure you."

Herendil smiled gently, raising his fingers to the maiden's cheek. "I am glad."

In that moment, a wave of relief washed over Oloriel. She broke out in smile, and felt tears spring to her eyes. Feeling foolish, she turned from the warrior and blinked them away. "How very silly of me!" she exclaimed, before feeling the warmth of a hand at her back. She shook her head, and then looked back to Herendil with some amount of confusion. "But what does any of this mean? I have known you but a fortnight. You know nothing about me, nor I about you."

Herendil smiled shyly. "It means we have much to learn."

X

This encounter upon the front steps was an intriguing one for the Evenstar. She could not help but look on in curiosity as her childhood friend and the wounded warrior spoke in such an intimate manner. What had truly happened between the pair? There had recently been some sort of intimate contact – this Oloriel herself had admitted to her – but she was unsure as to the extent of the act. Herendil was certainly handsome and amiable, and she could understand her friend's attraction. Arwen was not truly surprised that Oloriel had acted in such an instinctive way, for it was true to her usual disposition, but she was a little surprised – a little shocked, even – to see how deeply this attraction had affected her companion. Oloriel had always been very exact about what she did and did not like in a suitor. She held few qualms about openly criticising the opposite gender, and had mocked a great many that had displeased her. Indeed, her temper was unnatural amongst elves. Arwen had always presumed that Oloriel would perpetually toy around with the ellyn, and that eventually she would take a lover. Perhaps – after an age – she would settle with one. But the ebony-haired maiden had never even imagined this future; it was too far away, too unthinkable. And yet she saw her spirited friend blink away tears…it was all too strange.

Realising that she was standing alone in the garden, Arwen climbed the front stairs – long vacated by the fledgling lovers – and found herself outside of her father's office. She knocked on the door, and upon hearing a response, she entered the room. "Am I interrupting you, Adar?" she queried.

Lord Elrond looked up from his papers and smiled. "A welcome distraction. How may I help you, Arwen?" he asked.

Sinking into a chair, Arwen pondered how to frame her question. "Adar, when you first met Naneth, did you know that she would become your wife?"

The Lord of Imladris appeared slightly taken aback by this question, but smiled and replied "Yes, I knew. There was something different about Celebrian." Elrond paused for a moment. "Why do you ask?"

"It seems that Herendil of Greenwood is interested in Oloriel – and it appears that she is interested in return."

Raising an amused eyebrow, the Lord considered this before giving a slight chuckle. "None of us can fight love – not even our dear Oloriel."

"But Adar, is this really wise?" she questioned. "I do not dislike Herendil, indeed, I quite approve of him, I merely wonder about the speed of the union."

Elrond nodded. "I understand your intentions, Arwen, however I believe that it would be unwise to interfere. Allow the pair to settle this matter themselves – only they can do this."

Arwen smiled. "Yes Adar, I will. I think I sought only to reassure myself." The maiden stood, kissed her father's forehead, and left the room assuaged. She would leave her friend be. Indeed, observing the couple would be most intriguing. Perhaps she would learn something useful? She giggled. What an interesting notion, using her own friends as subjects to further her own social education!

Back in her room Arwen looked about and felt ambivalent. What was she supposed to be doing? She realised just how much she had relied upon Oloriel, how much time she spent with her. Given the recent turn of events, Arwen understood that this could no longer be so, and accepted it. She turned once more and headed for the sitting room, eager to seek out her other friends. The past fortnight of confusion and self-reflection had prevented her from regularly keeping their company. She feared not their reproach, as Valadhiel and Ithilwen were as closely bonded as she was with Oloriel.

Appearing in the sitting room, embroidery in hand, Arwen grinned when she caught sight of her friends. She crossed the large, airy room and sank onto a lounge nearby. Ithilwen looked up from her needlework and beamed at her friend. "It is good to see you, Arwen."

Laying her book aside, their copper-haired companion jeered "Oh Ithilwen, we both know that Arwen has had much more agreeable things to do." The two giggled, whilst Arwen blushed.

"Hush! I have merely been reacquainting myself with an old friend!" Her friends giggled further.

"Pay no mind to us," Valadhiel continued "for we have also been acquainting ourselves with our Greenwood kin. They are much more…earthy."

"And exotic." Ithilwen added, whilst the other rolled her eyes.

"Certainly. They are very much a part of the natural world. I find it intriguing."

"Oh yes, as does Ithilwen!" Valadhiel laughed whilst her fair friend pursed her lips. "But I digress; their tales have been of much interest. The royal residence appears interesting. One would imagine that a cave could hardly be a comfortable residence, let alone a kingly one, but the way they describe it, it sounds rather magnificent. Also, they eat more game than we do here. And they marry far earlier!"

In this fashion Valadhiel and Ithilwen relayed to Arwen the many diverse and interesting stories and facts which they had been told over the duration of the past two weeks. It was a most welcome distraction from her own feelings, and she delighted in each new piece of information. She'd always liked stories – unlike others, she had never outgrown them – and the fact that these were all true made them even more compelling. All too soon it was time for the trio to separate and ready themselves for the evening meal. Despite the interruption, the three went gladly enough for all were eager to study Imladris' newest couple...

XXX

A short and fluffy welcome-back chapter to get us all back into the swing of things. Please let me know if you're still reading. LC.