Years have passed, documents have been lost, and I am sure that no-one - including myself - believed that I would ever touch this story again. But here I am. I hope that you enjoy this much waylaid update. xx LC
Chapter Fourteen: Twisted Branches
As ever, the Hall of Fire shone with warm light as its occupants gathered to partake in the evening meal. Soft chatter and the tinkling of cutlery unobtrusively filled the air as diners exchanged light conversation. Though the room, it seemed, was a little emptier, and spirits a little less lively, Arwen could not say that the mood was sombre by any means; rather, it was more reflective, more sleepily at ease. There was no spectacular entertainment this night, but the lack of such a display felt in line with the general tone of the evening. There was, however, something quite new and interesting with which to keep Arwen occupied.
Greenwood kin currently away hunting orcs, Herendil had joined Arwen's friends to dine that night, though he scarcely paid any attention to the rest of the party. Instead, the blonde attended to Oloriel attentively, hanging on her every word. Arwen heard, amongst the general conversation, that her friend spoke of her studies. Pride filled her, for Oloriel deserved recognition for her devotion.
Ithilwen's hazel eyes shone as she observed them. She leaned over and whispered, "He's truly caught in her web!" The others giggled, good-naturedly jealous of their vivacious friend's good fortune, before averting their eyes respectfully.
Some distance away the Lord of Imladris sat in deep conversation with his chief advisor, and Arwen wondered what they might be saying, and whether her father had foreseen the hunting party's prompt return. How long did it take to hunt down goblins? And how would one even know if they'd hunted down the ones they were after? Didn't they all look the same?
She glanced at the recovering Herendil. Did it matter if the creatures who had attacked him were not the same as the ones who had slain Saeldur? No. Monsters were still monsters, Arwen reasoned to herself. The less of them the better.
Elrond caught her eye briefly and nodded at his daughter. Arwen nodded back and turned back to her meal. The hunting party would return tomorrow.
xxx
The day broke warm and clear, inviting the elves of Imladris to begin their day early. For most, today was a brief return to normality, a day in which the usual became usual again, in which hosts returned to inhabitants. For Oloriel, however, it was a day in which the lively elleth spent a great deal of time learning about her handsome companion. The two disappeared on a walk – Herendil had begged to ride, but his carer flatly refused him – and were not seen again for some time.
Curled up on chaise lounge overlooking the mountains, Arwen absorbed herself in the familiar legends of her ancestors. Increasingly gripped with emotion, she read unceasingly until, heart thumping and blood pounding in her ears, her vision went black...
x
It was perhaps only a moment later that the maiden regained her consciousness, although it felt as though a whole decade had passed. Glancing about uncertainly Arwen smoothed her palms over her burgundy dress and shook her head awkwardly. How bizarre, she thought. Embarrassedly she left the tale of the lovely Luthien and her lover unfinished, and ventured off to seek out her naneth.
xxx
After foolishly becoming overly involved with the story – and on an empty stomach, no less, she chided herself – Arwen spent the remainder of the morning with Celebrian. The pale-haired elleth was pleased to have her daughter's company, and the two spoke amicably together as the elder twisted dark hair into intricate braids.
"Truly, I could not have asked for a more beautiful daughter," Celebrian glowed, placing an affectionate kiss onto the crown of Arwen's head.
Arwen ducked her head modestly, before shaking it vigorously. "If that is true then it is only because you are," she replied.
Celebrian smiled. "And what of your adar?"
Arwen laughed. "The hair only…and sometimes the temper," she grinned.
Her mother swatted her playfully, and was about to reply, when the sound of hooves sounded in the distance.
"They have returned!" Arwen cried.
The pair rose and made their descent to the entrance, where they waited a short while before the hunting party finally arrived at the Homely House. Amongst the activity the two saw Legolas and the sons of Elrond jump down from their horses. Arwen saw the faintest twinge of relief pass over her mother's features, before her face resumed its usual serene expression.
"We slaughtered a large pack of orcs in the mountains," reported Elrohir, after he kissed Celebrian's cheek. "But don't worry, not one of us was killed, and only a handful wounded."
Celebrian raised an eyebrow. "A handful too many."
"The healers are more than capable of mending these wounds and sending each and every one on his way," reassured the twin.
Elladan reached the small group and planted another kiss on his mother's cheek. "Well met, Naneth. Are we to have a ball tonight? Before I left I do believe Arwen made mention of one?"
Celebrian chuckled. "Not tonight! But soon enough, I promise. You will have your pick of pretty girls and flavoursome wine however you must let me finish planning it first!"
Her son nodded in agreement, and soon Elrohir and Elladan went off again to deposit their weapons, and Celebrian re-entered the house to begin her plans in earnest. Arwen knew that she should follow her mother, but she remained where she was, looking over to where Legolas stood talking to his kin.
A few moments later Arwen began to feel awkward, standing off to the side on her own. She considered trying to talk to her friend later, when he was not surrounded by his friends. The earthen-clad elves looked less polished than the inhabitants of her home and seemed more reckless. Black blood was spattered across the tunic of one and soaked into the hair of another. They talked animatedly, with gestures and laughter. Arwen got the distinct impression that they really enjoyed killing.
One of the elves, with eyes of flame-brown, noted her presence, and spoke shortly to Legolas, nodding in her direction. Arwen felt uncomfortable as the group turned to appraise her. Legolas smiled, directed a few words to his companions, and then strode over to meet her.
"Well met, Arwen. Have you been standing her long?" the elf asked.
Arwen shook her head. "No, not at all," she replied somewhat untruthfully. "Did you…enjoy your hunt?"
"Of course," he grinned. "I live to hunt."
Arwen crinkled a brow. "Only to hunt?"
"Well, perhaps for a few other reasons as well," he conceded.
The elleth appraised her friend. He looked hale and strong, and vibrantly alive. A dark smudge rested on his right cheek, and there was black under his fingernails. Orc blood? She imagined Legolas' hands slaughtering orcs with his daggers, black blood pouring from gushing wounds. She shivered.
"Arwen?"
Jolted, the elleth redirected her gaze. "I am sorry…I was looking at your hands."
The warrior raised his hands and looked over them, frowning, until he caught sight of the blood caked under his fingernails. He smiled. "My kinsmen and I went scouting this morning on our journey home. We came across a small, disparate band of orcs roaming some distance from the party, and dispatched them before we continued on our way," he explained. After a moment he chortled. "One tried to reach for my throat."
Alarmed, Arwen asked, "And what did you do?"
Legolas' amused eyes turned serious, fixing on hers and looking into them deeply. Arwen felt caught in their depths, unable to move or even look away. His blue gaze stared deliberately at her before replying, "I convinced him otherwise."
The elleth took in a shallow breath, her stomach in knots.
Legolas' eyes gripped her own for a moment more, before releasing them from his intense hold. They darted away momentarily and then returned to her face looking softer. The elf grinned at her again. "Herendil would have enjoyed it…where is he?"
Feeling less affected then she had been just a short while ago, Arwen replied that his friend had last been seen traipsing into the woods with his healer. "I'm sure he'll be back soon," she added.
Legolas looked pointedly at her. "Would you like to help me look?"
Arwen quirked her lips. "Of course."
X
Lifting her burgundy skirts a little to step over a mossy tree root, Arwen followed her friend deeper into the woods. The air was earthy, and the ground soft beneath their feet.
"Did you ever find out why Oloriel left Herendil alone in the Halls of Healing?" Legolas inquired conversationally, admiring the twisted branches of the oak tree above him.
Arwen paused, reflecting on her discussion with her friend in the garden. "I could not help myself. He was far too tempting." She coloured a little, unsure of how to respond to the ellon standing next to her.
Legolas looked at her quizzically. "Well?"
"They'd had a disagreement…of sorts. The two have already reconciled."
Her companion nodded. "I can only imagine he teased her one too many times." He laughed. "What did he do?"
The colour in Arwen's cheeks began to deepen as she further recollected her conversation with Oloriel. "He was asking for attention…to some parts more than others." Sweet Eru, despite her initial confusion in the garden she was now fairly sure that she knew what had happened in the healing room…or at least had narrowed it down to one of perhaps two or three particular acts.
Legolas stared at her curiously. "Arwen? What is the matter? Why do you blush?"
Knowing that Legolas could see the flush on her skin made Arwen feel flustered, but she responded as calmly as she could. "Oloriel and Herendil are now courting."
A surprised expression appeared on Legolas' face. "Courting?" he repeated.
"Yes, they are quite taken with each other. He seems very happy, despite his wounds."
Legolas nodded, absorbing the new information with a smile. "I should not be so surprised. In a visit to him he once joked to me that he could not have landed a prettier nurse."
Arwen giggled. "Or Oloriel a handsomer patient."
"Or more teasing," Legolas added. "I am sure that he would have enjoyed trying to unsettle her."
"He succeeded," Arwen replied.
"And that's why she left?"
Arwen paused for a moment. "More or less."
Legolas looked like he was going to question her further, when Herendil and Oloriel themselves appeared in the distance. They walked closely together, arm in arm.
"Legolas!" the other ellon called. "I am happy to see you back so soon."
"And I am happy to be back – and to discover what has happened in my absence," he rejoined, looking pointedly at the brunette by the other's side.
Herendil smiled proudly. "Perhaps I should thank that goblin for my wound, for it has brought me good fortune."
Oloriel scoffed. "You will do no such thing; a poisoned wound is no trifle."
The elvish prince grinned at the pair. "I see that courtship has not dulled your good sense, Oloriel."
"Of course not," the she-elf replied matter-of-factly. "Are there many wounded?"
"No, thankfully, and they are all being tended to," Legolas assured her.
The ellyn spoke of the hunt for some time, as Arwen and Oloriel ventured out further into the scrub. They tarried for a while to twist wildflowers into their hair.
"What have you been doing with him out here for so long?" inquired Arwen quietly.
Oloriel smiled back coyly. "Mostly talking."
"Mostly?"
"Well…and tasting the earthy lips of our Greenwood kin," the other bantered.
Arwen looked sideways at the proud ellyn, still talking of bloodletting. "And?"
"A lady never tells," boasted Oloriel smugly, before laughing.
Arwen shook her head with amusement. "That is not something you've bothered with before."
Oloriel shrugged, still smiling. "He is different," she confessed candidly. "I feel different around him. Myself, of course," she added, "but a better one. I turn everything into chaos, but Herendil smoothes everything, until there is no problem. He's like a salve."
Twittering a little at the comparison, Arwen squeezed her friend's arm gently. "I am happy for you."
Behind them the ellyn called, "Let us return to the Homely House now, lest we lose you and have to hunt you down."
Arwen locked eyes with Legolas playfully, then turned to Oloriel, whose face reflected the same mischief that she felt blooming in her own heart. With one last glance at the warriors standing tall and expectantly, the ellyth grasped each other's hands and fled off into the scrub.
The hunt had begun.