Disclaimers: I don't own any characters or settings from Lord of the Rings.
Act VI
Chapter 44: Returning to the Elven Hall
The twilight sky painted a gradient of purples and blues as Elladan, Elrohir, Arien, and Legolas set out from Gondor. The city, though still bearing the scars of war, was alive with the resilient spirit of its people. As they rode through the streets, they saw signs of recovery everywhere: citizens rebuilding their homes, children playing amidst the ruins, and soldiers standing tall, ready to protect their hard-won peace.
Arien felt a mix of emotions as they left the bustling heart of the city. She glanced back at the White City, its grandeur now mingled with the harsh memories of battle. Her mind wandered to the many lives lost and the significant changes that lay ahead. The road to Rivendell stretched before them, a journey filled with uncertainty yet laced with the promise of new beginnings.
Elladan and Elrohir rode ahead, their keen eyes scanning the horizon. They shared a silent understanding, a bond forged through countless battles and unspoken words. Arien followed closely, her thoughts drifting to her father and sister. The weight of her true identity pressed upon her, but she resolved to keep it hidden from Legolas for now.
Legolas rode beside her, his expression calm but his mind alert. The serenity of the landscape did little to ease the tension between him and Arien. Since their last heated exchange, an uneasy truce had settled between them, but the air crackled with unresolved tension.
As they exited the city gates, the transformation from urban resilience to the wild, untamed beauty of the countryside became apparent. The rolling hills and verdant fields stretched out before them, a stark contrast to the war-torn streets of Gondor. The sounds of hammers and saws gave way to the calls of birds and the rustle of leaves in the evening breeze.
"Are you planning to keep silent the entire journey, Prince Legolas?" Arien asked, breaking the silence. Her tone was light, but there was an edge to her words.
Legolas glanced at her, his gaze steady. "I did not realize you craved my conversation, Lady Arien."
She rolled her eyes. "I merely thought that traveling in silence might make the journey seem longer. But if you prefer it that way, who am I to argue?"
A faint smile tugged at the corners of Legolas's lips. "I see you are in a mood to provoke, as always."
"Only because you make it so easy," Arien retorted, unable to suppress a smile of her own.
Elrohir, overhearing their exchange, turned back with a grin. "I believe the journey will be quite entertaining with the two of you."
Elladan chuckled softly. "Indeed. Just try not to frighten the horses with your bickering."
They rode on, the banter easing some of the tension. The road ahead was long, but their spirits were buoyed by the shared sense of purpose. Each had their reasons for returning to Rivendell, and the journey itself became a reflection of their inner struggles and hopes.
As night fell, the stars emerged, casting a gentle glow over the landscape. They decided to make camp by a clear, bubbling brook. The serene setting offered a moment of respite from their travels. Elrohir and Elladan tended to the horses while Arien and Legolas set up the campfire.
"Do you ever tire of being so infuriatingly proper?" Arien asked, glancing at Legolas as he meticulously arranged the firewood.
Legolas raised an eyebrow. "Do you ever tire of being so persistently contrary?"
She laughed, the sound blending with the crackling fire. "Perhaps we are more alike than we care to admit."
He looked at her, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "Perhaps. But I doubt you would ever willingly concede that point."
As they settled around the fire, the conversation turned to lighter topics. Elladan and Elrohir shared stories of their adventures, and for a while, the group was united in laughter and camaraderie. The flickering flames cast dancing shadows on their faces, creating an atmosphere of warmth and kinship.
Yet, beneath the surface, Arien's thoughts were in turmoil. She felt the weight of her secret, the burden of her true identity. The idea of being Elrond's daughter played on her mind, and she wondered how much longer she could keep it hidden from Legolas. She glanced at him, his profile illuminated by the firelight, and felt a pang of uncertainty.
As the fire burned low and the night grew colder, they settled into their blankets, the sounds of the night lulling them to sleep. The journey to Rivendell had just begun, and with it, the promise of new challenges and revelations. Arien closed her eyes, her mind filled with thoughts of the road ahead and the hope that she would find her place in this world.
The following morning, the company woke early, the first light of dawn breaking through the canopy of trees. Arien felt a sense of anticipation as they packed their belongings and prepared to continue their journey. The air was crisp, filled with the scent of dew-covered grass and the sounds of waking birds.
As they rode on, the landscape continued to change. The scars of war became less frequent, and the natural beauty of Middle-earth began to reassert itself. Rolling hills gave way to dense forests, and clear rivers wound their way through the verdant landscape. The journey was long, but the changing scenery provided a sense of progress and hope.
Arien found herself riding beside Legolas once more. The previous night's tension had eased, but there was still an undercurrent of unease between them. She glanced at him, noting the determined set of his jaw and the faraway look in his eyes.
"Something on your mind, Prince Legolas?" she asked, her tone softer than before.
He turned to her, his expression thoughtful. "I was thinking of Mirkwood. It has been long since I last saw my home, and I wonder what awaits us there."
Arien nodded, understanding his concern. "We all have our worries. But we must remain hopeful. The world is changing, and we have a chance to shape that change for the better."
Legolas gave her a small smile. "You speak with wisdom, Lady Arien. Perhaps I should listen more often."
She laughed softly. "And perhaps I should argue less. But where would the fun be in that?"
Their banter continued a familiar dance of words that brought a sense of normalcy to the journey. They rode on, their spirits lifted by the beauty of the land and the promise of what lay ahead. As they approached Rivendell, the air grew cooler, and the landscape more rugged.
The sight of Rivendell, nestled in the valley below, brought a surge of emotion to Arien's heart. The Elven city, with its elegant architecture and serene surroundings, was a place of refuge and peace. She felt a sense of homecoming, mixed with the anticipation of seeing her family once more.
As they descended into the valley, the sounds of Rivendell welcomed them. The gentle murmur of the river, the songs of birds, and the faint hum of Elven voices created a symphony of tranquility. Arien's heart swelled with emotion as she looked at her companions, grateful for their presence and the journey they had shared.
Elladan and Elrohir led the way, their faces lighting up with the familiarity of home. Legolas rode beside Arien, his expression one of quiet awe as he took in the beauty of Rivendell.
"Welcome to Rivendell," Arien said softly, a smile playing on her lips.
Legolas nodded, his eyes reflecting the serenity of the place. "It is more beautiful than I ever remember."
As they entered the city, they were greeted by Elrond and a host of Elves, their serene faces reflecting the tranquility and timeless beauty of Rivendell. The great halls and elegant spires stood as a testament to Elven craftsmanship, their intricate designs blending seamlessly with the natural landscape. Rivendell, nestled in a verdant valley, seemed to embrace its visitors with open arms, offering a sanctuary of peace and renewal.
Elrond had been informed by his guards earlier of their arrival. As the group approached, the anticipation in the air was palpable. Arwen, radiant and ethereal, stood beside her father, her eyes bright with relief and joy. The news of the war's end had brought a renewed vitality to her, the weight of darkness that had clouded her heart lifting like a dissipating storm.
Elrond's gaze swept over the group, noting the presence of his sons, Elladan and Elrohir, and his youngest daughter, Arien, alongside Legolas. His keen insight told him their purpose: they were here to escort Arwen to Aragorn. Though he wished Arien had come seeking the solace of her home, he understood her motivations. Elladan's thoughts mirrored his own, sensing his sister's reluctance to settle in Rivendell permanently.
"Welcome home," Elrond said, his voice a harmonious blend of warmth and authority. He embraced each of his children in turn, his eyes lingering on Arien. "It is good to see you all safe and whole."
Arien met her father's gaze with a mixture of emotions. She had often been harsh with him, but now, returning to Rivendell felt like a homecoming she had not expected. She nodded, a silent promise of peace and understanding passing between them.
Legolas stood slightly apart, his regal bearing evident despite the weariness of the journey. Elrond turned to him with a respectful nod.
After the brief but heartfelt welcome, everyone retired to their rooms to refresh and prepare for the evening. The journey, though not overly exhausting, had left them eager for the comforts of home.
Elladan and Elrohir were the first to change and meet with Elrond. In their private chambers, they recounted the events of the war, detailing the battles fought and the state of the lands they had traveled through. Elrond listened intently, absorbing every detail with the patience and wisdom that marked his leadership.
Legolas, meanwhile, found solace in the familiar surroundings of Rivendell. He bathed, washing away the grime of travel, and dressed in attire befitting his princely status. He donned a flowing robe of deep green, intricately embroidered with silver thread, and soft boots that whispered against the marble floors. Unlike his usual battle-ready appearance, he left his hair unbraided, allowing the golden locks to cascade freely over his shoulders, reflecting the soft glow of the lanterns.
As he prepared, his thoughts were troubled by Arien. Throughout their journey, she had been more talkative, though often it seemed just to argue. She still addressed him as 'Prince Legolas', a reminder of their earlier confrontation. Legolas, in turn, found himself both intrigued and perplexed by her. Her mood shifts and the barriers she maintained made him wonder what lay beneath her guarded exterior.
In her own room, Arien cleaned up and chose a gown, a rare indulgence that reflected her lighter mood. The gown, a soft shade of lavender, flowed gracefully around her, complementing her elven features. As she gazed at her reflection, she felt a sense of calm and clarity. The oppressive darkness that had once clouded her thoughts was gone, replaced by a sense of hope and renewal.
Arien's thoughts turned to her father. She realized that she had been too harsh with Elrond and felt a growing need to make amends. The same applied to her brothers and Arwen. She wanted to bridge the gap that had formed between them, to mend the bonds of family.
Legolas, too, occupied her thoughts. Despite their frequent arguments, she recognized his virtues. He was not a villain, nor someone she could truly despise. His princely demeanor, while intimidating at times, did not overshadow the loyalty and courage he had shown. Arien smiled to herself, acknowledging that her earlier fangirl tendencies had faded, replaced by a more mature understanding of who he truly was.
As evening fell, the group gathered in the great hall of Rivendell. The room was bathed in the warm glow of candlelight, the scent of fresh flowers mingling with the cool night air. Elrond stood at the head of the table, his presence commanding yet gentle.
Elladan and Elrohir were already seated, their expressions a mix of relief and anticipation. Arwen, radiant as ever, sat beside them, her eyes shining with joy and hope. Arien entered, her gown flowing gracefully, and took her place beside her brothers. Legolas, resplendent in his princely attire, joined them, his presence adding a touch of elegance to the gathering.
The meal was a celebration of their return and the end of the war. Elrond spoke of the future, of the need to rebuild and heal. His words were filled with hope and determination, a promise of better days to come. As they ate, the conversation flowed easily, the bonds of family and friendship strengthening with each passing moment.
After the meal, Arien found herself walking through the tranquil gardens of Rivendell. The night was cool, the stars twinkling overhead like a thousand tiny lanterns. She felt a sense of peace she hadn't known in a long time, a feeling of belonging.
Legolas joined her, his presence a silent comfort. They walked in silence for a while, the sound of their footsteps mingling with the soft rustle of leaves.
"I am glad you are here, Lady Arien," Legolas said finally, his voice sincere and tinged with formality. "Rivendell suits you."
Arien smiled, glancing at him. "Thank you, Prince Legolas. It feels like home."
Legolas looked at her, a thoughtful expression in his eyes. He hesitated, as though on the verge of saying something more. A subtle shift in his posture betrayed his inner conflict; he wished to tell her that formalities were no longer necessary. However, the memory of their past arguments held him back, unsure how to broach the subject without reigniting her fiery temper.
Arien gazed at him, slightly confused, sensing he had more to say. When he remained silent, they continued their walk through the serene gardens of Rivendell. The night air was cool and fragrant, filled with the scent of blooming flowers and the distant murmur of a flowing stream. They eventually reached a bench at the edge of the gardens and sat, taking in the tranquil beauty around them.
Legolas broke the silence first. "I had the opportunity to examine my mother's map closely," he began, his voice softening. "The details you restored were exquisite, a true testament to your skill. I am deeply grateful."
Arien smiled and nodded, appreciating his words. It was one of those rare moments when they were simply themselves, free from pride and prejudice. "It was a pleasure to work on it," she replied. "The map held such beauty and history. I was surprised by the intricate details as I restored it."
She hesitated to mention his mother, knowing it was a sensitive topic. But Legolas seemed willing to share. "My mother was a remarkable sketching map," he said, a hint of melancholy in his voice. "Her maps were not just guides but works of art. She poured her heart into them, just as you did in restoring it."
Arien felt a connection forming, an unspoken bond over their shared appreciation of his mother's work. They gazed at each other, the moment imbued with gentle magic, as though the very air around them held its breath.
Just then, a maiden approached, her presence cutting through the delicate atmosphere like a knife. "Lady Arien, Lord Elrond wishes to speak with you," she said respectfully.
Arien pulled back, the spell of the moment broken. She glanced at Legolas, feeling a mix of frustration and self-awareness. "I will meet with him shortly," she told the maiden.
Legolas nodded, acknowledging that their moment had passed. The silence that followed was heavy, and when they resumed talking, the conversation quickly shifted to a disagreement.
"I still do not understand why you insist on venturing into dangerous places alone," Legolas remarked, his voice calm but edged with concern. The twilight in Rivendell cast a soft glow over the gardens, illuminating his striking features.
Arien's eyes flashed with defiance as she retorted, "I do not need constant supervision, Prince Legolas. I am more than capable of taking care of myself."
Legolas sighed, the weariness of their countless arguments evident in his demeanor. "It is not about your capability, Lady Arien. It is about unnecessary risk. There are dangers even you cannot foresee."
Arien bristled at his words, her temper flaring. "And I suppose you never take unnecessary risks, Prince Legolas? Are you always so infallible in your decisions?"
Legolas's gaze lingered on her, the intensity of his cerulean eyes unwavering. "Every risk I take is calculated," he replied, his tone measured. "I do not gamble with the lives of those I hold dear."
"Calculated risks?" Arien scoffed, her frustration bubbling over. "You speak as if life can be neatly categorized into safe and dangerous. But life is not so predictable, Prince Legolas. It is messy, unpredictable, and sometimes, taking risks is the only way to truly live."
His patience was wearing thin, and the formality in his speech began to give way to genuine exasperation. "Lady Arien, there is a difference between living boldly and recklessly endangering oneself. Your stubbornness blinds you to the consequences of your actions."
Arien's eyes narrowed, her voice growing sharper. "And your traditionalism blinds you to the possibilities of life. You are so driven by your sense of duty and honor that you miss out on the simple joys. You pride yourself on being this perfect prince, but in doing so, you become detached, prideful. I wanted to say a prideful jerk, but that would not be fitting the protocol, would it?"
Legolas's expression darkened, a rare flicker of anger crossing his face. "You presume much, Lady Arien. You think me detached? I have lived through more centuries and seen more suffering than you can comprehend. My actions are guided by experience and wisdom, not mere pride."
Arien took a step closer, her frustration evident in every movement. "And yet, in all your wisdom, you fail to see that sometimes, living means embracing the unknown. It means stepping out of the shadows of tradition and allowing yourself to be vulnerable. But you, Prince Legolas, are too proud to admit that."
Legolas's jaw tightened, his composure slipping. "You speak of vulnerability as if it is a virtue. But what good is it if it leads to unnecessary harm? I have seen too many lives lost because of reckless behavior. I will not stand by and watch you add to that number."
The air between them was charged with tension, their argument escalating with each passing moment. Arien's hands clenched at her sides, her voice rising. "And I will not be lectured on how to live my life by someone who refuses to see beyond his own rigid worldview!"
Legolas took a deep breath, his voice low and controlled but tinged with frustration. "You are impossible, Lady Arien. You seek to challenge me at every turn, yet refuse to see the wisdom in caution."
Arien's eyes blazed with indignation. "And you, Prince Legolas, are insufferable! You hide behind your titles and traditions, never allowing yourself to truly live."
Their argument had drawn the attention of a few passing Elves, who quickly averted their gazes and moved on, sensing the intensity of the confrontation. The serene beauty of Rivendell's gardens seemed a stark contrast to the turmoil between them.
Finally, Arien turned sharply on her heel, her gown swirling around her. "I will not stand here and be lectured any longer. Good night, Prince Legolas," she said, her voice cold and clipped.
Legolas watched her go, his own frustration simmering beneath the surface. "Good night, Lady Arien," he replied, the formality in his tone doing little to mask his own irritation.
As Arien stormed away, she could feel the weight of their argument pressing down on her. She had never felt so conflicted, torn between her desire to prove herself and the nagging realization that Legolas might have a point.
Legolas remained in the garden, his thoughts a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. He had not meant to anger her so, but their clashing perspectives seemed destined to ignite. He sighed deeply, knowing that their journey together would be fraught with more such confrontations, yet unable to deny the strange, undeniable connection that lingered beneath their pride and anger.
((Upcoming Chapter Forty - Five))
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