CH 6: Excerpt from Lord Glorfindel’s Journal

As always…Feedback appreciated!

Additional disclaimer:

Written with no Beta…Spell check marginally, and so NOT the version I DELETED a few months ago. I did not have the heart to rewrite it yet, so it will appear as CH 7…Back to our program…

Of Pranks and Punishments -

Chapter 6: Excerpt from Lord Glorfindel’s Journal

The moon was already high in the heavens, and the candles burnt low when Lord Glorfindel entered his study. He ran his fingers across a wall of books until he found the one he had been searching for; a slightly worn leather bound volume that was not much larger than his hand. It had creamy, gilt-edged pages that were cradled by the midnight blue cover. He stood there for several moments simply gazing at the journal in his hand. Centuries had passed since he last made an entry. With a slight shrug of his shoulders he turned quickly on his heel and brought the book to his desk and sat down to write:

Tonight I have hit an all time low. How has it come to pass that I should be re-housed to heap such shame upon myself? I pride myself on propriety and chivalry, yet I have behaved in the manner that I disparage. I have seriously offended the Lady Atanone with my conversation with Lord Erestor. Let me just say, that the contents of the discussion were not meant for an elleth’s ears, especially when said maid is a part of the topic. I am not used to Erestor having an assistant (and an elleth at that). I fear that I have become accustomed to dropping my inhibitions when it comes to the topic of choice during my conversations with him. After all, there is no one else in the room to cause us to censure our words. Every so often, Lord Elrond will join us, but he will often spur such conversations. The three of us have been friends for so long, there are few secrets kept between us.

For all the years that I have seen, I should know better. I do know better, therefore there is no excuse for my behavior and I am appalled. Although, I must secretly admit that I was refreshingly pleased with the tongue-lashing and reprimand that she gave the both of us. I grin even now as I recall it. I was greatly surprised with the ease in which she scolded us like elflings, and then walked out of the room. She is normally quite reserved and quiet. Before this whole ‘hair ignominy’, I had even thought of her as shy. It is always the quiet ones that bear watching, for they are usually plotting, observing or thinking something over very deeply. Her outburst tells me she is not lacking in words or initiative. I may have been wrong in my original assessment, but I believe my recommendation for her ‘punishment’ will still serve its purpose.

Ai! It is a shame that they look upon their judgments as punishment. True, they are consequences to their actions, but they were chosen as enrichment experiences. Truth be told, had the lot of them not exploded during the council regarding their prank, they might have been merely reprimanded. However, when over two millennia of petty bickering and jealousy come to a head like that, SOMETHING needed to be done. I personally had reached my boiling point. I cannot say fairly whether or not the fact that my toiletries had been tampered with clouded my reaction to the entire matter.

However, I cannot say that any ellon would be accepting of ones hair being curled as a prank. How could anyone take the Seneschal of Imladris seriously when said seneschal shows up to council in halflling curls? I was sorely tempted to throw Elladan into the fountain when he burst into undignified laughter when he first saw me. I had stormed into Elrond’s study ready to incite the fear of The Valar into the troublemakers that had caused me to look like a giant halflling. The fact that Elrond himself was hard pressed to stifle his own amusement did not help my mood. I suppose, looking back on it now, it was rather humorous. Erestor was of no assistance either, as he was openly laughing the entire time. I never thought that there would be a time for which I was grateful to have the majority of Imladris feel as if they dare not act anything less than dignified and respectful; At least to my face.

Given, it is my due as Seneschal, and I should be treated no less, but it would be refreshing to interact with more elves on a friendlier basis. I admit, that secretly, I am tired of the way many continue to act around me. While they all treat me with respect, their demeanor changes from relaxed to formal as soon as I join their company. I do not foresee that changing anytime in the next millennia. Besides, I myself cannot change so easily, and I would not have my authority or reputation challenged, especially now. I fear a shadow forming, a great evil wakes and I have no time to consider personal happiness when there is the security of Imladris to consider. Ironic, is it not? An Eldar who believes there is not enough time allotted to him? I suppose the time spent in The Halls of Mandos have made a deep impression on my outlook. I have learned that not even the firstborn have the luxury of guaranteed time. That is one lesson I have brought with me from Mandos. Being re-housed gives you a new perspective as well as a change in treatment by other elves.

However, I cannot help but think that Elrond has ‘punished’ me as well, or at least seeks to drive me to madness. You would think that living through Elladan and Elrohir’s pre-majority years would be enough. Not only did he give me the satisfaction of deciding how best to deal with the miscreants, he has instructed Nólemirë to organize my study upon her return from Lothlorien. Now, what is wrong with my study? I admit that there may not be room for every article that resides there at the moment, but I know where everything is! And to assign her! She is distracted easily, especially with books, and it will take her an entire age to finish! That is, if she ever manages to finish. She is also a procrastinator extraordinaire. She is inquisitive, willful, creative, perceptive, straightforward and downright insistent. She will ask a ton of questions and move things around to her liking, and I will never be able find a thing again. Come to think on it, there may be things in there I prefer she not see. She can be quite stubborn when she feels like it, and I do not wish to bother with having anyone hanging around my chambers, moving things and cleaning things no one needs to see.

But there, I am sounding like a petulant elfling. I am not the one who must make amends after all. I was the one who suffered from their prank. That sort of thing I would have expected of the twin imps of Elrond and Celebrian. I would have thought that even too much for Aearion, Nólemirë and Atanoné. I suppose I shall have to resign myself to having my study invaded. What am I to do should I wish to invite an ellith to my chambers? How does one deal with that matter? So long as she does not seek to delve into my personal chambers or private matters I suppose I shall survive. I will simply deal with it when the time comes. Why should it even matter to me? It isn’t as if I have never had an assistant before, no matter how short-lived the arrangement was. For now, I must deal with the situation I have created for myself with Atanone. Elrond has insisted I speak with her and put things to right. I would have no trouble were she a male. However, I obviously do not know how to deal with ellith properly.

I understand that Atanone is quite the herbalist. I would have asked her for the remedy but I would rather take my chances with Elrond’s recommendations, rather than risk an unwanted side effect. The weeks it took to get the last ingredients of the foul smelling concoction here from Lothlorien were well worth it. I could not (and still would not) trust her given her current state of mind. She may have turned it as green as Galangal’s if she were given the opportunity.

I am rather surprised when all is said and done, that things have only just now come to a head between the three ellith involved. I do not know the reason why, but Galangal has ever been the proverbial ‘thorn in the side’ of both Atanone and Nólemirë. I cannot recall a time where the three have ever been friendly. I would say that it is because Galangal is not native to Imladris, but neither is Dúlinn, and she is a kindred spirit to Atanone and Nólemirë. I cannot fault Galangal’s parents either, for they are both kind and loved by all, especially by Atanone and Nólemirë. So what then is the problem? Even with Galangal’s siblings there is no strife. I suppose it is a thing that I shall never be able to grasp, for who can truly understand the mind of an elleth? I do well to understand my own, especially after today’s events. I am starting to seriously doubt my wisdom in my choices of consequences for the three. At least with Aearion, I am confident I have chosen correctly.

Many years have passed since I have made entry into this journal. I am not sure whether that is a good or bad sign of the state of my personal affairs, for I only write when matters trouble my mind and soul. Ai, Elbereth! Grant me the strength to deal with these concerns, for the solutions escape me!

Here the entry ends, although the bottom corner of the page has been torn out. What lines remain give hint to what may have been a drawing of some sort.

CH 5 Part II….well most of it…

The Imp has decided to be my muse for this, rather than work his magic on a re-write himself. He says that he wants me to be the authoress of everything, but he ‘was more than happy to give his constructive criticism and fantastic creative genius for song alteration’. His words (almost) exactly. HA! Nightfahls muse has prodded mine into writing ‘Moonlit Paths’! (With a bonus poem born of pieces culled from the ’song’)

I’m still battling with Chapter 6, which is Nolemire’s account of the welcome feast and possibly the meeting with the Lord and Lady of The Golden Wood. There will be the introduction of 3 new elves (more brothers!) and perhaps more of Aure.  What is Galangal up to now? What were Mire and Aearions punishments? Do we care about Galangals? Stay tuned!

So…I’ve been sitting in the passenger seat of a truck for a week, mumbling and counting off syllables on my fingers ( looking positively mad I am sure) This is all that I have to show for it… I will do the cop out thing and preface it with:

 Found among Aearions belongings in the Guards Quarters was a worn and battered piece of parchement. Half of it appeared to be missing, and among the blotches of ink and apparent wine stains, Lord Glorfindel found the following verses scrawled across the tattered page:

Across the seas

I drift and sail

And dream of Elvin Maids

Their forms are fair

Their lips are soft

Their beauty never fades  

 

They walk with grace

And sylph-like charm

They tempt me with a glance

Their lips are soft

Their eyes are bright

Their hips sway in their dance 

 

 I’ll toast to them

With miruvor

Express my thoughts with rhyme

I’ll dance and sing

And drink fine wine

To while away the time   

 

I’ll wait for one

To call me forth

And claim me for her own

I’ll find myself

Within her arms

Be-spelled by dulcet tone 

 

 Come walk with me

My sweet fair maid

Beneath the velvet sky

Come dance with me

I’ll hold you close

Beneath the stars we’ll lie …

UPDATE! Whoohoo!

Feast your eyes upon the newest ‘photos’ over in the sidebar. More to follow soon. And, since I mentioned ‘Moonlit Paths’ in Atanone’s letters, I was inspired to write them…especially since someone was curious… Stay tuned for Part II of Ch 5, which will be Aearion’s reworking of the song, graciously penned by my inspiration of Aearion himself! Thanks Aodhan (aka ImpLord).

Oh, and my new friend Cat has given me inspiration for NEW characters ( to be introduced in CH 6) Since her sons were fans of Tolkien, and she has been so sweet (I look forward to getting to know her better), my muse has named 3 elves after them!

As always, constructive criticism wanted and welcome.

CH 5, PArt I: Moonlit Paths

Part II coming soon! ( …Aearion’s rewrite…) 

Moonlit Paths 

 

Across the seas

Where dreams are real

There lives an Elvin Lord

His face is fair

His brow is dark

And Valiant is his sword

He rides with ease

O’er hill and glen

Upon his mist grey mare

His deeds are great

His heart is true

And noble is his air

I called him forth

From his fair Land

Whilst elvish minstrels trilled

With selfish thought

I wished him here

Before the voices stilled

He comes to me

On moonlit nights

He walks among my dreams

With strong embrace

He holds me near

Beneath the moon’s bright beams

My waking hours

Torment my heart

‘Til day glides into night

For then I dream

Of his fair form

Soothing my lovelorn plight

He cannot leave

His realm for mine

Despite his love for me

I tryst with him

Inside my dreams

Beneath the mallorn trees

      

No other’s love

Can take his place

My Beloved has no peer

And so I seek

A path to him

I travel without fear

I seek the course

His valiant troops

Doth travel seldom seen

The shining road

Between the stars

And Arda’s hills so green

He’ll wait for me

Until the day

The white gulls call to me

We’ll bind our souls

And seal our love

Across the shining sea

 

Chapter 4: Atanone’s Lament to Nólemíre *finished*

Chapter 4: Atanone’s Lament to Nólemíre 

My Dearest Nólemíre,

Thank the Valar that you have made it safely to Lothlorien. I have been eagerly awaiting your letter, partially because I am curious as to what you have been up to and partially because I have been anxious of the possibility of your party being attacked by orcs, wargs or who knows what else. I knew that you and Arwen traveled with some of the finest warriors that Imladris has to offer, but I worried just the same. Besides, you had to travel with The Orc Spawn. She could have driven you to madness. Galangal is so bitter, she should be a natural orc repellant. I doubt that even balrogs would care to tangle with her. Poor Aearion. He mentioned that his hope of losing her in the forest was dashed all to Mordor, and she made it safely as well. Perhaps time spent in Galadriel’s Realm will change her. Who am I kidding? But I can hope can’t I?

I have missed you dearly, sister. I cannot remember ever being separated by so much distance. I even miss that scamp Aearion. I have not even Arwen or The Twins for company. Those facts alone encompass the absolute worst part of my punishment. I can bear the rest of it.

What chafes me is the fact that if were it not for Dúlinn [1], I would be alone here in Imladris. Somehow, Dúlinn has been assigned tasks that seem to coincide with any breaks I may have, and I rarely see her, except while I am working on texts. I might as well be alone.

This is Lord Glorfindel’s doing. He devised our punishments based upon the areas in our lives that he believes needs balance. He said that I depend entirely too much upon you and Aearion (as well as Dúlinn, Elrohir, Elladan and Arwen). He is of the opinion that I should make more friends, and overcome my shyness. I overheard him say as much during one of his visits with Lord Erestor.

I did not intend to eavesdrop, but one can hardly avoid hearing the entire conversation when one is sitting at a desk nearby. I tried my best to bury myself in my work. I even began humming a tune in an effort to distract myself. Unfortunately, the tune I chose apparently had its lyrics ‘improved upon’ recently by a certain young Elf Lord. Aearion would not have happened to mention anything about a song whose lines now speak of drunken revelry, fair maids and intoxicating elixirs instead of moonlight, stars and the sea now, would he? I hummed the first few bars before noticing that the room had become eerily silent. I looked up to see two rather interesting expressions on the faces of the Elf Lords in front of me. I immediately stopped humming and inquired if there was something amiss. (OK, OK. What I really did was shrug my shoulders and ask ‘What?’) Their reactions were priceless!

Just imagine a pair of millennia-old elves, one of them a twice born Balrog Slayer, shuffling their feet and clearing their throats while refusing to meet my gaze. There were several attempts at an explanation with plenty of mumbling and clearing of throats. Lord Glorfindel finally escaped, mumbling something about paying a visit to the training fields, guards, bawdy songs and ‘taking care to observe who is present before loosening their tongues’. He left poor Lord Erestor to his own devices, much to my amusement. I was hard pressed to squash a fit of laughter. As it was, I had to hide a smirk behind a scroll I was transcribing in an effort to compose myself.

Lord Erestor was struggling to regain his composure as well. After a few moments, he cleared his throat, drew himself up to his full height (which is rather impressive as you well know) and gave me a level stare that sobered me up rather quickly before he spoke. He asked me if there was any particular reason why I chose the song I was humming. I of course had no previous knowledge of its recent ‘improvements’ and answered that there was no particular reason.

“It just happened to come to mind?” he asked with an Elrond-ish quirk to his eyebrow. He didn’t appear to believe me, and I sat there perplexed, wondering what in all of Arda he was getting at.

“I assure you My Lord,” I replied, “it has been a favorite of mine since I was an elfling. I was merely trying not to eavesdrop on your conversation with Lord Glorfindel. I figured if I concentrated on the tune, it would be easier not to pay attention to things that are not meant for my ears.”

Before he could respond, Lord Glorfindel returned, having interrogated a guard who happened to be on his way to see Lord Elrond. He declared that unless I happened to have visited the male baths, I should have no knowledge of the new and improved version of ‘Moonlit Paths’. (I may be bold, but I am not brazen enough to dare such a thing, so put that thought out of your mind this instant!)

An animated debate began about whether or not I had anything to do with the ‘re-write’, and whether it was a part of the series of pranks that we were responsible for. Neither of them could believe that I might have anything to do with such a bawdy tune, but Lord Erestor’s logical side forced him to contemplate the possibility while dragging Lord Glorfindel into his musings. It finally got to the point where they began a discussion of ‘Ellith that happen to wander near the male baths when occupied; Embarrassing or Providential?’

 When they began to discuss my whereabouts in the evenings and whether or not I would actually frequent the bathing area when they were occupied, I had heard enough. I stood up a little too quickly as I scattered scrolls and ink jars everywhere. I stamped my foot and actually yelled at the two. I can’t tell you verbatim what I said, but it was somewhere along the lines of: “ENOUGH! Have you completely forgotten that I am still here in the room with you? Stop talking about me as if I were not here. I would probably still hear every word if I were across the hallway. The last thing that I wish to hear is the two of you discussing how I spend my evenings! It was bad enough that I had to hear you discuss the pros and cons of ellith walking by bathing pools filled with disrobed males. And, here you are worried about whether or not I hear a few ellon singing a few colorful tunes? Really My Lords! If you don’t mind, Lord Erestor, I have completed all that I can today, and I shall see you tomorrow.”

I did not bother to wait for an answer. With a huff, I gathered up my scrolls and ink, and made my exit. I smirked as I let the door slam behind me. I left behind two stunned Elf Lords, so I began to hurry back to my chambers, lest they should come to their senses and hunt me down to talk about my outburst. I had already caught the attention and curiosity of a few passers by as it were. I was so caught up in my thoughts that I did not notice the elf in front of my door as I rounded the corner. Luckily, he noticed me, and caught me as I ran straight into him, dropping my scrolls and ink on the floor for a second time in ten minutes. He was quite tall, so I could only stare at the strange clasp that held his cloak as he gently held me steady by my shoulders.

I was embarrassed to say the least. He made sure that I had my balance before he helped me to gather up my things. I sputtered my apologies while silently cursing my clumsiness. He had silently handed me my belongings (after I declined his assistance in carrying them) when it finally occurred to me to ask him why he was standing in front of my door.

He told me that he was searching for a Lady Atanoné of Imladris, assistant to Lord Erestor. With a grimace I replied that I was she, and eyed him somewhat apprehensively. Apparently, he was about to search for me in Lord Erestor’s study as he had letters to deliver to me. I caught a smirk on his face as he handed me a letter and what seemed like a small package. I was about to make a comment regarding his smirk, but was immediately disarmed by the cheeky grin he gave me when he saw my reaction to discovering that the letters were from you and Aearion, for I dropped my scrolls and ink once more. I clasped my folded hands to my chest then nearly leapt at him, wrapping my arms around his neck in a tight embrace. I may have even squealed with glee as I did so. 

I still had my arms wrapped about him when he told me that he ‘would be happy to deliver any messages I might have if it meant that he would be thanked in the same manner.’ It was not only the embrace. I cheekily replied that he would not have the opportunity to do so unless he released his arms from around my waist. I cannot believe that I reacted so impulsively! He laughed at this and told me that he would happily do so at the prospect of more such opportunities. By now I had taken back my grip on sanity and changed the subject quickly by asking his name. Considering how I had hugged him before proper introductions, I believe it was a fair request.

I hastily took a step backward as soon as he released his hold on my waist. He solemnly made an elegant formal bow before he answered; “I am called Draughir of The Woodland Realm, currently in service as a bard and warrior to the Lord and Lady of Lothlorien.”

 His bow was effortless. I sense an air of mischievousness about him Mirë, but his bearing is both powerful and graceful. His hair is a rich chestnut brown, and I highly suspect that if seen in sunlight, there are auburn highlights. His voice is smooth and the cadence of his speech is a bit different from what I am used to. It is almost as if he is continuously telling a story or recalling a song. What should I expect? He is a bard after all. As for his eyes, they are a deep green, reminiscent of the forest.

Anyhow, I had collected enough of my wits at this point to return his bow with a curtsey of my own. I told him it was my pleasure to meet him, and I thanked him for bearing my letters all the way from Lothlorien. We stood there for a few moments chatting before he helped gather up my scrolls and ink once more. I learned that he knew Aearion when he was training with the Dunadain. I wonder what interesting stories he may have concerning Aearion? I shall hopefully have the opportunity to find out, as he will not be returning to Lothlorien until after Midsummer’s Eve. He never did say if Draughir was actually his name or just what he was called, but I did discover that although he is a kin to Aurë, he is not native to The Golden Wood he now calls his home. Drat! I should have asked Aearion about him, but I am too lazy to unseal his letter and it is a moot point as I hope to find out by the time I would receive answer from Aearion.

Although I found myself loath to let him leave, the letters from you and Aerion were burning in my hands. I have been anxious to hear of your safe arrival to Lothlorien. He is a very intuitive ellon Mirë. He excused himself by saying that ‘he must tear himself away from my welcome presence to allow me to read what news my friends had sent to me’. I agreed to escort him to this evenings feast so I shall have further opportunity to speak with him. He also invited me to the Hall Of Fire where he might share a tale or song. Before he left, he bowed once again and kissed my hand lightly.

I eventually managed to get myself through my door without dropping my belongings, and deposited my ill-treated scrolls and inkpots onto my desk. I had just begun to melt into a chair when I heard a staccato rapping at my door. I groaned and took my time answering it, since I thought it to be either Lord Erestor, Lord Glorfindel or both seeking to speak with me about the way I took my leave of them. Imagine my surprise when a blur of russet hair with a rather large tome flew past me while urging me to ‘hurry and shut the door!’

After a cursory peek down the hallway, I swiftly closed the door and followed Dúlinn to the sitting area where she had already made herself comfortable. Her slippers were on the floor, her legs tucked up beneath her, and the book was propped up on her knees. I reacquainted myself with my chair and waited for her to explain her rushed entrance. Without looking up from her book, she immediately asked who the strange ellon I was flirting with was.

 I sat up so quickly you might have thought I was sitting on a pin. I exclaimed that I was not flirting with him, and that he had just brought me two letters from Lothlorien that I wished to read. She laughingly asked me when I started rewarding ellons who delivered messages with embraces. With a smirk she remarked that it was nothing short of miraculous I accepted his request to escort me to dinner as well. I had nothing to say to this, so I tossed a pillow at her and asked her if she had nothing better to do than to lurk in shadowed alcoves to spy upon her friends and tease them mercilessly.

“As a matter of fact,” she replied, “I thought it might interest you that Lord Elrond himself is on his way here to speak with you concerning the behavior of two Elven Lords. I was just borrowing this volume from Lord Elrond when the Lords Erestor and Glorfindel hurried into his study. I thought I would duck in here first to give you a heads up.” She stopped to take another bite of the apple she had selected from a nearby basket and grinned at the look of horror that was stamped upon my face. “Of course,” she continued, “I would have told you sooner, but I did not want to interrupt your conversation with your escort to tonight’s banquet. What in the world did you do to fluster them so, gwathel nín [2]?”

I deliberately ignored her comment regarding Draughir, and hastily recounted what happened, including my so-called flirtation. She had been so enthralled with my tale, she had lost her place in her book and had her chin propped up on her hands with her elbows delicately balanced upon her knees.

 She shook her head incredulously. “Ellon[3]!” she muttered as she settled back into her seat. “You seem to be the epicenter for excitement lately Atanoné. Oh! I almost forgot. A party is leaving for Lothlorien in the morning if you wish to send a response to those letters. Don’t mind me, I’ll silently enjoy your company while I read. I want to know how our friends are doing when you are done.”

I smiled at her and tore into your ‘journal’ and Aearion’s letter. I read them twice before I moved to my desk. These very pages belong to the much-abused scrolls and ink I mentioned.

So Mirë, tell me more about this March Warden of yours.  Yes, I called him ‘your’ March Warden as you devoted more words to his eyes alone than you ever have to a single male in his entirety. As a matter of fact, nearly half of your epistle concerned your meeting with Haldir. I believe that I shall side with Arwen by saying that there is something more than a passing interest.

I do think you handled yourself quite gracefully Mirë. I would have been suffering waves of agony had I been caught responding so pertly to a stranger. That scamp Elladan! I am sure that he disappeared on purpose, although I am sure he could not expect you to say such a thing. When you get lost in your reveries Mirë, you notice little of the world around you. The mallorns must have moved your heart indeed, for you to be caught off guard like that. Or perhaps it was something else that moved your heart? Perhaps you will someday be a ‘Sylvan Elf’ after all. Of course, I can safely say as much with such a great distance between us. Hah! Can you sense me grinning and giggling all the way in Lothlorien?

Of course, all jesting aside, no matter what the nature of your feelings for Haldir are (if any), you still have Galangal to contend with. I am perplexed at the fact that I alone have been left here in Imladris, while Galangal has been sent with you and Aearion to Lothlorien. I would think that Lord Elrond would have wanted to separate us from her. It is also puzzling to me that she was included in the rounds of punishments as well. Aside from the venomous words and nasty attitude during the council, she had nothing to do with our pranks besides to bear the brunt of our ‘overactive imaginations’. Perhaps Lord Elrond finally tires of her incessant gossip and penchant for stirring up trouble with her meddling and selfish schemes.

It would be well for you to avoid her as much as possible, although you know this already. She has already asserted her ‘claim’ on Haldir. (I just snorted out loud, and Dúlinn is laughing silently at me from across the room. I can tell by the look on her face that she will ask me all about it later.)

 I cannot wait for your next letter. I especially want to hear every detail concerning the feast for the Sons and Daughter of Imladris. Tell me all about your escort, who wore what, which songs were sung, and what stories were told. Are their feasts the same as they are here in Imladris? Spare no detail, as I anticipate not being able to enjoy (let alone pay attention to) any gatherings or festivals for the span of my punishment. Going back to Lord Glorfindel’s opinion that I should make more friends, and overcome my shyness, I am to engage a few of the quieter elves in ‘interesting and enjoyable’ conversation. How am I to do so Mirë, when I am usually one of those quieter elves, content to observe the festivities from among the company of my closest friends?

 I worry most about taking the initiative to draw others into conversation and making sure they are enjoying themselves. I would much rather trot around Imladris all day according to Lord Erestor’s whim, relaying messages, studying, organizing or translating and copying old texts. To top it off, I am to document the entire Summer Solstice Festival! It would be a shame if I were to fall so far behind on my tasks that day that I would have to miss the feast entirely. Or perhaps I shall be too overworked. But, then I would be shirking my punishment, and my apology for my behavior would be a lie.  I shudder to think of what Lord Elrond would say.

Speaking of Lord Elrond, it has been quite some time now, and he has yet to knock on my door. I have been on pins and needles each time I hear someone pass my chambers in the hall. The hour has grown quite late and it is almost time for the banquet. I hope he does not choose to speak to me of this until tomorrow. Preferably without the Lords Erestor and Glorfindel present.

Have fun organizing Lord Glorfindel’s study when you return. I have had a peek at it recently, and it may take millennia to put it into some semblance of order. A raised eyebrow on my behalf only earned me the comment that ‘he knows precisely where everything is, and he has far more important things to do than clean up a room that he does not entertain in.’ I happened to glance behind him and noted that the open door to the rest of his chambers revealed an immaculate haven. A far cry from the chaos of a rat’s nest he calls his study. Brilliant weaponry glinted neatly on the walls and I caught a glimpse of candlelight gleaming from deep within another room in his chambers. He followed my glance and smirked. He was quick to inform me that ‘Of course, those rooms in which he entertained guests in were kept immaculately.’ I left before he could elaborate on that statement further. I leave that discovery up to you.

I trust that you will refrain from relaying any intimate discoveries to me in explicit detail. Perhaps before overhearing his debate with Lord Erestor I might not have minded. I do, however expect great detail in your next letter regarding the welcoming feast and your council with The Lord and Lady of Lothlorien. Until the day I may travel there myself, it is my hope that you continue to add descriptions of The Golden Wood in your letters. Please give my regards to Undomiel, The Twins and Aearion. I miss you all very much.

May Eärendil [4]shine brightly upon your path, and the Valar[5]watch over you until next we meet.

Atanoné

  

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[1]Dúlinn –dusk singer  (also known as Dúiel - dû
[ ] maiden of nightfall  )

[2] gwathel nín – my (sworn) sister

[3]ellon- male elves

[4]Eärendil- ‘lover of the sea’- Mariner who bears the Silmaril as The Morning Star. Father of Elrond

[5]Valar- ‘Those with Powers’ – Angelic powers who took part in the shaping of the world

NEW! Announcing CH 3 & Flickr photo album of our ‘characters’

I’m on a roll…since Atanone needs/wants to tell the same thing to Aearion and Nolemire, I am able to write 2 letters concurrently, so there will be some serious similarities between chapters 3 and 4. The main difference being the difference in information that she wishes to share with each of her friends. Love it? Like it? Hate it? Let me know.

DONE DONE DONE! CH 3 is done. *Gives muse tiramisu* *whew*

Heh heh heh! I am now plotting to rope victims *cough* assistants into taking more pictures on IMVU.

CH 3: In which Atanoné enlists Aearion as a spy

Of Pranks and Punishments CH 3:

 

My Dear Aearion,

 

I am happy to hear that you and Mirë have arrived safely in Lothlorien. I miss the two of you dearly. I am pleased that you are on speaking terms with each other again. Before you left, I tried to convince Mirë that your judgment had been clouded by Galangal’s fondness for creating trouble. Really, Aearion, one would think that after all this time you would not fall for the schemes of that sly elleth. Did you not learn how to read your enemies while training under the March Warden of Lothlorien? 

 

Speaking of the March Warden, I am willing to bet that I will be hearing more about him from both you and Mirë. Her letter (or should I say journal?) went into some detail concerning her meeting with Haldir and Galangal’s reaction to it. Apparently, Nólemíre is trying to avoid thinking about Haldir, Arwen sensed an ‘energy’ between the two after she embarrassed herself, and Galangal presumes to think that Haldir will fall for her so called ‘charms’.

 

Galangal also seems to think that I should learn to be more feminine in anticipation of when the time comes for me to ‘manage your affairs’. Am I such a heathen that I would be a disgrace to you or any ellon I might choose to bind myself to? And since when has it been decided that you and I were life mates?  It must surely be sour grapes on Galangal’s part since she was not able to lure you into her trap. I fear that I agree with you in that you shall pay dearly for taking her word over Nólemíre’s. I am not sure if it would be worse to be slighted by Mirë or to be the victim of some fantastic prank. Do you think perhaps she has had her fill of pranks lately? I believe that I have.

 

I am quite interested in hearing more about Haldir. Especially since the ‘Orc Spawn’ sees Mirë as a threat. I still giggle each time I think of what Mirë said to him. I would love to have been a witness to the look on his face. I must thank Elladan. Whether he planned it or no, the result was priceless. Perhaps Galangal is right in thinking our dear Mirë is a threat to her future with Haldir. Mirë devoted an entire paragraph to his eyes, and she made mention that his gaze ‘un-nerved’ her while declaring her disinterest.  Do me a favor, and keep an eye on them when you can. I am willing to wager that perhaps there is something more than a mild interest on both of their parts.

 

You must tell me all about the feast! I want to know every detail that you can remember, no matter how trivial you may think it. I fear that it may very well be centuries by the time I am able to enjoy another gathering. Lord Erestor manages to find tasks to occupy my time and I have been assigned the task of documenting the upcoming Summer Solstice. I am not even to enjoy the festival, as I must engage a few of the quiet elves in ‘interesting and enjoyable’ conversation.

 

You know how much I would much rather keep to myself and observe the festivities Aearion! It absolutely pains me that I must now take the initiative and draw others into a conversation. I must now spend my time making sure that everyone else is enjoying himself (or herself as the case may be), and I must document the entire thing in the process! By the Valar, I hope that I shall not have to do any dancing. Everyone I feel comfortable with is with you in Lothlorien. Perhaps I shall fall behind on my tasks that day so that I may be excused from the festival entirely.

 

Since you and Mire have left with Arwen and The Twins, my days have been nothing more than deliver messages, organize, study, document, transcribe, translate, and any other task that comes to Lord Erestor’s mind. Even The Hall of Fire does little to raise my spirits. I try to enjoy myself as much as I can, knowing that I shall not be able to do so at the festivals. Lord Erestor is determined that I shall learn from this ‘experience’ as he calls my punishment.

 

 I blame Lord Glorfindel. He devised our punishments based upon the areas in our lives that he believes needs balance. I overheard him say as much during a visit with Lord Erestor.

 

Now, before you say a word, it was not my intention to eavesdrop. I could hardly avoid hearing the entire conversation as I was sitting at a desk nearby. I was determined not to pay attention to what they were saying, so I began humming a tune in an effort to distract myself. Unfortunately, the tune I chose was one whose lyrics had been ‘improved upon’ recently by a certain young Elf Lord. You wouldn’t happen to know who this might be now, would you? After I hummed the first few bars, their conversation ground to a screeching halt. I immediately stopped humming and inquired if there was something amiss. (OK, OK. What I really did was shrug my shoulders and ask ‘What?’) Their responses were amusing to say the least.

 

Suffice it to say that I was able to watch two Elf Lords squirm as they tried to think of a way to discreetly inquire if I actually knew what they were talking about. I was humming ‘Moonlit Paths[1]’. Apparently, the song now speaks of drunken revelry, fair maids and intoxicating elixirs instead of moonlight, stars and the sea.

 

 There was much shuffling of feet and clearing of throats. Finally, Lord Glorfindel wormed his way out of the room with the intent to interrogate the guards and any ellon he could find at the bathhouse. He muttered something about a ‘Young Elf Lord’ I am associated with and his penchant for inappropriate lyrics that no elleth should ever hear. Since he only mentioned one ‘Young Elf Lord’, I am assuming that he is referring to you, as Elladan and Elrohir are usually always mentioned together. (By the way, I am still bitter that I am the only one to miss their welcome feast, even if you must speak with the Lord and Lady the very next morning. I long to visit the Golden Wood one day, and Mirë’s letter does little to alleviate that yearning.)

 

I suffered several uncomfortable moments of questioning by Lord Erestor before Lord Glorfindel returned from the hallway with the announcement that unless I was in the habit of hanging around the male bathing pools while they were occupied, I could not have known the new lyrics, as you had left for Lothlorien before your writing was discovered and passed around among the guards.

 

They began to debate whether or not I would actually have a hand in such a bawdy tune. I was then treated to a discussion listing the pros and cons of bathing if there happened to be ellith wandering around the male bathing pools. When their discussion turned to wondering how I spent my evenings and whether or not I would frequent the bathing pools, I had heard enough. I actually exploded and shouted at the two most powerful elves in Imladris (aside from Lord Elrond). It appeared to me that they had completely forgot that I was still there, so I merely reminded them of the fact. I believe what I said was: “ENOUGH! Have you completely forgotten that I am still here in the room with you? Stop talking about me as if I were not here.” I managed to knock several scrolls and inkpots off of my desk in the process.

 

I excused myself from my work (without opposition from Lord Erestor I might add) and let the door slam shut behind me after I left, earning curious glances from those who were passing by. I hurried back to my chambers before they could think to chase me down and try to talk about what just happened. I was mortified that I actually shouted at them. I was so busy with my thoughts that I did not see the ellon standing in front of my door, and promptly ran right into him. I dropped my scrolls and ink at his feet while he managed to catch me before I fell to the floor in an ignominious heap.

 

I was embarrassed to say the least. He made sure that I had my balance before he helped me to gather up my things. I sputtered my apologies while silently cursing my clumsiness. He had silently handed me my belongings (after I declined his assistance in carrying them) when it finally occurred to me to ask him why he was standing in front of my door.

 

He was silent for so long, I had begun to think that he did not hear me. After a few moments he asked if I was indeed the Lady Atanone. I assured him that I was and was rewarded with a disarming smile. He bowed formally and handed me a letter and a rather thick packet of parchment, which he had hidden among the folds of his cloak. I immediately recognized your writing and Mire’s elegant thin lines. I was so pleased that I believe I squealed and wrapped my arms around his neck in a tight embrace.

 

He chuckled softly and said that he ‘would be happy to deliver any messages I might have if it meant that he would be thanked in the same manner.’ I replied that he would not have the opportunity if he did not remove his arms from around my waist. I cannot believe that I could be so bold! I regretted my words immediately and attempted to change the subject by asking him his name. After all, it was only fair considering that he knew mine and I had hugged him before a proper introduction.

 

He is called Draughir[2], once a ranger and now a bard and warrior, in service to the Lord and Lady of Lothlorien. He never said if that was his actual name or merely what he was known as, but he shall be here until after the Summer Solstice celebrations so I shall have time to find out. I have found that he is not native to The Golden Wood and is the cousin to this Aurë that you and Mirë wrote about. He was not aware that the letter he bore was from you and sends his greetings. He shall look for you upon his return to Lothlorien. I wonder if he could tell me a few interesting tales from when you trained with the Rangers?

 

Either way, I must end this letter to you if I am to write Mire’s before the evening meal. A party is leaving for Lothlorien in the morning, and Draughir will be by shortly. Before he politely excused himself so that I could devour your letters, I promised to attend the banquet with him this evening.

 

Until next we meet, please behave and keep an eye on Nólemíre, Lordling. I anticipate your next letter as I miss you very much and am eager to hear of the drama I am positive has taken place with Galangal and Haldir. I am sure Mirë will tell me, but will hold back items of interest you are sure to observe.

 

Always,

 

Atanoné

 

---

[1] There is no actual tune called “Moonlit Paths”. Should there be? *Thinks- perhaps there should even be the ‘altered’ version?

[2] Draughir – (Wolf-lord)

CH 2 : Aearion’s note

Of Pranks and Punishment CH 2

* A short note scrawled hastily on parchment that appears to have had a goblet of wine resting on it at one time. There are also multiple smudges and words that have been crossed out.

Greetings fair Atanoné!

Mirë and I have arrived safely in Lothlorien. Unfortunately, so has Galangal. Despite having been a victim of our pranks, she still believes that I am fond of her. I found myself secretly hoping that we would lose her somewhere along the way, or perhaps she would hear the call of the sea and wish to leave immediately for the Undying Lands. Sadly, this has not happened, but much to the relief of Elladan, Elrohir and myself, she has turned her attentions elsewhere. The March Warden of Lothlorien no less! He is in for a treat. I am still considering whether or not to offer him my assistance in dealing with her, as he has no idea what he has in store for him.

Despite the unsavory travel companion, the rest of the journey was pleasant. Nólemíre and I are speaking to each other again. She apologized to me first, and I admit that I was so stunned that I almost did not apologize for my foolish behavior in turn. It was foolish of me to believe that she would name me as the ringleader and imply that she was forced into it. I have fallen for another vicious lie of Galangal’s and I owe Mirë dearly for taking Galangal’s word over hers.

At the moment, I am attempting not to dwell on the inevitable meeting with the Lord and Lady tomorrow. For now, I concentrate on the feast that is being held tonight to welcome the Children of Elrond. I consider it a last real hurrah before our punishments begin in earnest. Elrohir and Elladan have been suggesting all kinds of possible punishments throughout the journey. I suspect that they have had some experience with many, if not all of the suggestions they came up with.

I suppose I shall find out tomorrow exactly what is planned for us. I am curious to know what the second part of your punishment is. Mirë is positively green with envy that you are Lord Erestor’s assistant. I still laugh when I picture the expression on your face when you were told as much. I know how fond you are of cataloguing, libraries and history. We must thank the Valar that we did not receive Mirë’s task of organizing Lord Glorfindel’s study upon her return. Which makes me wonder why she was singled out for that task.

I know this note is short (as usual), but Aurë has returned to collect it, as her cousin is leaving for Imladris soon. I do not wish to keep her waiting. It appears as if she is also to be my escort for the feast tonight. How odd it feels to say that. Shouldn’t it be I who is escorting her to the feast? Either way, I will manage to enjoy myself immensely with such a beautiful elleth to escort me. She was very kind to me during my first stay in Lothlorien.

I look forward to the day our debts are paid, and we can look back upon all of this and laugh. I anticipate hearing how you fare back home in Imladris without us.

Ever at your service,

Aearion

  

It was only a matter of time…

until I wrote a bit of Fan Fiction. Is anyone truly surprised that it is a Tolkien based Fan Fiction? I mean, really.
If you are a purist, hate off (and sometimes wayyy off) canon, anything that resembles a Mary Sue, self insertions, cliches and nonsense, then do not bother to ask me for the password. I cannot guarantee that throught the course of this writing, that I shall or shall not travel those paths.

It is simply where my muse takes me. Still undaunted?

This story is told through a series of letters sent between friends from Imladris (Rivendell). Set before the War of The Ring, and after Celebrian (Lord Elronds wife) sails for the Undying Lands, three friends and their intended victim, incur the ire of a certain Balrog Slayer and the dismay of the Lord of Imladris. Punishments are meted out, and the separation of the trio of friends for the first time in centuries shakes up their world.

For now it is only :

• Nólemíre (jewel of wisdom/lore)  (Mirë for short)

• Aearion (from the winding shore, son of the sea)

• Atanoné (born again)

Perhaps one day we shall hear from other characters.

 

I haven’t decided what exactly will happen. Romance? Mystery? Scandal? Mayhem? Battles?  One thing is for sure, this will not turn into a ‘10th (nor 11th and 12th) walker’ fanfic. That horse has been beaten to a pulp, and I leave it for others to tackle.

 

As always, I look forward to any thoughts or opinions.

 

CH 1:Nólemíre - A beginning of an adventure, through her eyes.

Dearest Atanoné,

It seems as if a century has passed since I spoke with you last, and I hope that this letter finds you well. As much as I love Imladris, I must admit that The Golden Wood is wondrous indeed. I know, I know, I complained enough about being ‘dragged out into the woods.’ I believe that “May The Valar send me to The Halls of Mandos now, if I must endure much more of your complaints!” were the exact words to fall from your lips. What would you have done had they complied? Not that there was any chance of that happening. I bet Mandos is not ready for the likes of you.

I promised to write, so let me tell you what has happened since I left Imladris. By the way, I feel that I shall enjoy Aearion’s punishment for our little escapade. As soon as Lord Elrond has calmed down, I shall have to remember to thank him for assigning that scamp to courier duty. We can send as much as we like. As it is, this very missive threatens to become a package of paper and ink, rather than a simple letter. I am NOT however, looking forward to what my punishment might be. I am to meet with The Lord and Lady of the Golden Wood tomorrow morning. (Then again, it would not be punishment if I were looking forward to it, right?)

Speaking of punishments, I think it is horribly unfair that yours should be one of my fondest dreams. Lord Erestor has never had need of an assistant, and I cannot remember him taking on any students in centuries. You must tell me all about the inner library, the private scrolls, the historical documents, and of course, of Lord Erestor himself. Have you visited Lord Elrond’s study? How about Lord Erestor? I am no longer wondering about Lord Glorfindel’s. Perhaps I shall stay in Lothlorien to avoid having to organize it when I return home.

I already miss hearing the Bruinen cascading through the valley. Although the Celebrant flows swiftly through Lothlorien to the Anduin, the Nimrodel murmurs through the trees, as tranquil as the wood itself. The Wood ‘Ne! One day, you should visit The Golden Wood. I shall try to describe it to you, but no matter what I say, it will fall short of doing it justice. Ai! I jump ahead of myself, so I will tell you in a bit.

The morning we left was misty and cool. We rode for the better half of the day before we stopped to water the horses and stretch our legs. Neither Aearion nor I had spoken a word to each other the entire time. I rode at the head of the party near Elladan, and he stayed near the rear with Elrohir. At least most of the time I was sure of which twin I rode with. I know that they switched places every so often. I would have to explain what I was talking about at times, if I happened to reintroduce a topic of earlier conversation. Their memory is impeccable, so the poor excuse of being preoccupied did not fly. How is it after hundreds of years I am still unable to tell the difference between the two most of the time? If I could look into their eyes for any length of time I would know, for their souls would tell me who was who. But I find that for some reason, I cannot bear to do so. I am afraid of the dark things they have seen since our Lady of Imladris was attacked by orcs. Their years with The Rangers have changed them, I barely recognize them at times. They have not been the same since their mother sailed for the Undying Lands. And there is something else I am afraid of, although I will not dwell on that thought more than I have to.

Anyhow, by the time we had stopped to water the horses, the mists had disappeared and the sunlight filtering through the forest canopy was warm. The twins joined me as I was cooling my feet in a stream away from the rest of the travelers. They sat on either side of me, and I could feel the poisonous looks from a certain elleth [1] who was not far upstream from me as they did so. Will Galangal learn that she has not a chance in Arda [4] to win the heart of either brother? Either way, it isn’t as if I did either, so what is she worried about? They have been my friends since we were elflings.

 They began to pester me with a myriad of questions about our ‘offence’, although I am sure that they knew the whole story. They are as sly and wily as that Gollum creature dear Bilbo told us about. What they did not overhear, I am sure they finessed out of the kitchen staff. In the end, I told them a condensed version of the entire affair. I won’t bother to rehash it here, since you were there. After I finished, I was left with two-stunned Peredhil [2] for company. Neither of them spoke for several moments.

Elladan laughed. “Well, even Elrohir and I are not mad enough to tamper with the Balrog Slayers hair products.”

“For the record,” I sputtered, “ if Gerin had read both of the labels correctly he would have read ‘Galangal’ not ‘Glorfindel’, and I might not be traveling to Lothlorien with that orc spawn. At least he got the other label right and delivered it to its intended recipient.” I shot Galangal a glare that could have made her now moss green hair curl as nicely as Lord Glorfindels did.

At this point, it appeared as if Elrohir were choking, as he was emitting strange sounds. “Go ahead and laugh, My Lord. I know you want to.” I pouted before I poked him in the ribs.

 He admitted to barely escaping with his life after being shocked into fits of laughter when the Lord Of The House of The Golden Flower barged into his fathers study with gorgeous curly locks. Has he calmed down at all? Is his hair still curly? That is one thing I do not envy you. You share the same corner of Arda as Lord Glorfindel. An upset Elf Lord/Balrog Slayer is not my idea of a good neighbor.

Going back to what I was saying: Much sooner than I would have wished, we resumed our journey. It took me several minutes to catch my horse, since he mysteriously became un-tethered and ended up wandering away from our group. Galangal had a nasty smile on her face the entire time, so I think it is safe to surmise that she had something to do with it. I’d complain about the fact that she does not act her age, but I would be nothing short of a hypocrite for doing so. After all, she is not the only one being sent away from home to ‘think upon how we have acted, and to decide whether or not we would act as the mature and dignified ellith and ellon [3] that we are.’ I believe it was Lord Glorfindel who concocted our punishments. I can’t say that I blame him.

Even with Elrohir’s help, the sun was well into the afternoon sky by the time I returned to the rest of the group. Our leisurely pace was abandoned for the time being in an effort to reach our intended campsite while there was still light. We made good time and settled in for the night well before night fell. Thank the Valar that I am an experienced rider. Surprisingly, I did not hear a disparaging comment from Galangal concerning my so-called unladylike habits. Undomiel herself is one of the best riders in Imladris, so I think that her remarks are born of jealousy.

 I did not have as many chances as I would have liked to speak with Arwen during the journey. Now that we are in Lothlorien, I do not know how often I will be able to visit with her. Much to Galangals pleasure, I assume. She would enjoy life more if she were not so consumed with her jealous streak. I suspect that Galangal was a very sore and upset elleth after our ‘altered pace’, and I did not worry about the whereabouts of my mount from then on.

Somewhere around the third day, Aearion and I resumed speaking to each other. I was tired of the twins threatening to invite the Orc Spawn to ride with them if Aearion and I did not ‘kiss and make up’. I told them that they could invite whomever they wished to ride with them, but they could not count on me to lower my standards as well. I held that I would not be responsible for her safety should she come within kicking distance of my horse. It was their taunts of ‘lovers quarrel’ and Galangals constant whining that drove me to swallow my pride and apologize. I would prefer to re-label all the bottles in the healing rooms than bear her company. Her voice is NOT elven-fair.

I took my leave of Undomiel and allowed my horse to drop to the rear of the party where Aearion was and apologized at once. If I had known the effect my apology would have upon him I would have done it sooner. He became slack-jawed, and began to stutter something about the end of Arda[4] as he knew it, for ‘Nólemíre herself has apologized first.’  

I shrugged my shoulders and nonchalantly commented that ‘I was rash and acting childish. I know that you were not the one responsible for my actions. I acted upon my own free will, and neither did I tell anyone that you were the mastermind of the entire affair. As a matter of fact, I named no accomplices.’

Aearion apologized in return, and admitted to acting like an elfling and not the young Elf Lord that he was. I noticed that he spat the words ‘Elf Lord’ out as if the words tasted vile upon his lips. I don’t think he will ever come to terms with his title. He maintains that it should be earned and not passed down from parent to son like a vase. If you ask me his time spent as a Ranger and as part of the Imladris Guard have made him wise beyond his millennia. I never ask him what he learned under the tutelage of the March Warden of Lothlorien. But whatever happened during his last visit to The Golden Wood has made a lasting impression upon him.

The rest of our journey was uneventful. I was thankful to leave the mountains behind (no matter how experienced a rider I am, I will never get used to a ride across the mountains.). The closer we got to Lothlorien, the more anxious I became. The sight of my first mallorns made me forget all about my impending punishment. Arwen’s silvery laugh followed me as I urged my horse closer to the nearest one. I let my palm rest on the silver bark of its massive trunk and closed my eyes. I lingered for several moments just listening to its life force. There were no words spoken, but the great mallorn welcomed me to the wood and a great sense of tranquility washed over me. With a smile I thanked the tree and wished it a long life of peace. I caught a golden blossom as it floated to the forest floor and held my cupped hand to my nose as I breathed in its fragrance.

I had been so caught up in my conversation with the tree that I was surprised by a male voice behind me. “Were it not for your dark hair and your manner of dress, I would take you for a Sylvan Elf just now and not a maiden of Imladris, My Lady.”

Without turning, I responded rather tartly. “And just where would you take me, were I a Sylvan Elf My Lord? Is my dark hair not pleasing to you?”

A second decidedly unfamiliar voice was the one to answer my impertinence. “My wager would be to escort you to the feast this evening. And perhaps a dance or two, eh Brother? You always sing of Tinuviel [5].”

I turned around only to wish that a great chasm would open up beneath me and swallow me whole. In my shock, I let the blossom I had been admiring fall to the forest floor. The Valar take my foolish tongue for speaking without thinking! Before me stood three of the Galadhrim Guard, fair haired and alike enough in face for me to surmise that all three were brothers. The two elves on the ends had their bows drawn. While the one on the left was trying to hide his amusement with a shy smile, the one on the right openly grinned at me, reminding me of Aearion when he is having a laugh at our expense. Apparently it was the ellon in the center who had first spoken to me, for the very tips of his ears were flushed and his gaze had an un-nerving affect on me.  He had no weapon drawn, but his left hand rested upon the hilt of his sword. His uniform was the same as his brothers, but his cloak and its clasp differed from theirs.

“On the contrary, your dark hair is as beautiful as The Evenstar’s. I find it very pleasing.” He said with a smirk.

I could do little more than sit there rather stupidly, in shock at what I had just said. I had assumed it to be Elladan, who had been next to me the last time I had bothered to pay attention to my surroundings. “I apologize My Lord,” I said carefully after I had regained some control of my senses. “I had thought you to be someone else.”

I could not draw my eyes away from his, for what reason I still do not know. If you were to ask me at that moment what color they were I probably could not tell you. However, now I can tell you that they never stay the same. Sometimes they are a golden brown, sometimes they are green and flecked with gold, and sometimes they are mossy green and almost grey.

I was spared explaining myself further when he broke his gaze from mine and addressed our party. “Welcome to Lothlorien. Our Lord and Lady await your arrival. We shall escort you from here into Caras Galadhron.”  He said with a nod.

“Well met, Haldir of Lorien.” Elladan replied, having reappeared from where ever it was he had gone to. I scowled at him, but he only grinned cheekily and continued. “ We bring our sister Undomiel, as well as three others that our Grandparents are expecting. May I present Lord Aearion, Galangal of Imladris, and, of course, the Lady Nólemíre.”

A flash of emotion that I was unable to read flickered in his eyes as his gaze once again rested upon me. His lips still curled in a small smirk giving him the appearance of being haughty and aloof. I was too busy chastising myself mentally. Haldir of Lorien! This was not how I envisioned meeting the Galadrim March Warden. I can just imagine you laughing right now as you read this. Go ahead. I deserve it. I decided to avoid him for the rest of the journey to Caras Galadhron.

While I was busy wallowing in embarrassment, Arwen and Galangal had brought their horses forward. Arwen gave me a reassuring smile before nodding at the trio of warriors. She nudged her horse forward while Galangal and I rode on each side of her.

Galangal did not even look in my direction. The expression on her face made her look as if she smelled something bad. “Can you not curb your tongue Nólemíre?” she growled without bothering to look at me. I think she was sour at her introduction, for Elladan had not introduced her as ‘Lady’ Galangal of Imladris. Why should he? She is no more a lady than Aearion is.

Some days I wish we were elflings, Atanone. I would dearly love to take her to task. Do you remember the day she pushed me into the pond? I believe it was on the day of my one-hundredth begetting day celebration that I tackled her and dunked her several times for it. There certainly has never been any love lost between us since then. 

Thankfully, she maneuvered her horse closer to Haldir so I was able to enjoy the ride through the mallorns in peace. Sunlight fell to the forest floor in beams filtered through the canopy of golden blooms and new leaves. The closer we got to Caras Galadhron, the denser the population of mallorn became. Their massive silvery trunks were sometimes dripping with delicate vines, and tiny flowers peeped out from amongst the gnarled roots of the great trees.

After an hour or so, Arwen turned towards me and asked me what I thought of the March Warden. I told her that I did not think of him at all. I did not look in her direction either as I said so. She laughingly replied that she did not believe me. “Besides,” she said, “it does not take my Grandmothers gift to feel the energy whenever you two glance at each other, despite the looks of disinterest on your faces.” She smiled knowingly before turning back to her own thoughts. “We have been friends for over two millennia now, Mirë. If no one else can sense it, I can. The March Warden intrigues you.”

I opened my mouth to say something more, but found I had not the words. Her gaze was still trained forward, but her lips curved into a smirk. I shook my head and tried to think about anything else besides the March Warden.

A silvery voice tickled the edge of my thoughts. “Welcome to Lothlorien, Ithiliel  [6] . Do not turn your thoughts away from paths of possibility. Even those that appear dark must be considered in order for the paths of light to appear brighter.”

I was startled at first, but her voice was so soothing that I relaxed instantly. Only Galadriel still called me Ithiliel. I mentally thanked her for her welcome and wondered what she meant by ‘paths of possibility’.

“We shall speak of it later. For now, enjoy the rest of your journey through Lorien.” She said before withdrawing. “ I look forward to seeing you again.” 

When she was ‘gone’, I looked around to see Aearion smiling and Galangal flushed and frowning. The Lady must have spoken with them as well. I turned at the sound of Arwen’s horse next to mine and broke into a fit of laughter when I saw the wicked grin on her face. Galangal glared at our outburst, which caused us to laugh again. I resorted to childish behavior as we passed her and poked my tongue out at her.

By the time we approached Caras Galadhron, I was weary of riding, so I decided to dismount and lead my horse the rest of the way. I waved off a guard who offered to take him from me. When we came to the great gates, I was unprepared for their magnificence.

 I gasped in wonder at their beauty and then nearly jumped out of my skin when Haldir spoke beside me.  “The beauty of the gates pale in comparison.” He said quietly.

When I asked him ‘in comparison to what’, he quickly looked at me sideways and said ‘the city of course.’ He continued to walk beside me while we both struggled with the silence. I ended up apologizing again for embarrassing myself. “I thought you were Elladan. He was right beside me the last time I bothered to pay attention.”

That infuriating ellon actually chuckled! “It is quite all right My Lady. While your response shocked me, I admit that I find it a refreshing change. Are you always so bold?”

“I would be here under more pleasant circumstances were I not.” I replied. “Is it your habit to sneak up on a lady and startle her by speaking suddenly?”

He did not answer me, but instead asked whether or not it was truly the latest fashion in Imladris to dye ones hair unnatural colors. He glanced in Galangals direction with a slight frown as he did so. I asked him why he did not ask Galangal, and was rewarded with a greater frown from Haldir. Apparently it was not his wish to engage the lady in any conversation for fear that his ears might fall off from her incessant chatter. I followed his glance again, and met with a pair of angry eyes and a scowl. I smiled at her graciously before I turned away.

“It appears as if she does not care for you very much.” He observed. “She seemed quite offended when I referred to you as her friend.”

“No she does not.” I replied. “She and I have never been friends.” With a sigh, I told him the reason behind our visit to Lothlorien. I figured that he would find out sooner or later. If my first words to The March Warden did not shock him, my revelation certainly did. He was speechless for several moments, processing the fact that we had involved Lord Glorfindel (however inadvertently) in our prank.

 Eventually he shook his head and commented that you and I must be the female versions of the Peredhil twins. Aearion had spoken often about us. I had forgotten for a moment that Aearion had been under his tutelage. I wonder what else he has said. On second thought, perhaps I do not want to know.

Not long afterwards, he excused himself. Before he disappeared, he mentioned that he would see me at the feast. I nodded and continued walking determined to enjoy the rest of my journey. Unfortunately, Galangal had other plans for me. She brought her horse along side mine, and surveyed me coolly.

Before she could speak, I commented that I no longer wondered at the March Wardens hastened departure. It did not sit well with her, for the sneer on her face was one that promised no good.

“I would not set my sights upon the March Warden of Lothlorien if I were you.” She stared down her finely sculpted nose at me as she was speaking. “He would choose an elleth who has at least reached her majority in mind as well as body.” She said frostily.

“And I suppose that you are just the elleth for him?” I responded just as coldly. “After all, you are all things an ellon could ever want.”

She obviously missed the note of sarcasm in my voice as she assured me that she was indeed the elleth meant for Haldir of Lorien.  Where have we heard that before Atanoné? Was she not the elleth meant for Elladan, Elrohir, Lord Erestor, Lord Glorfindel and even Aearion? And then there was Gildor. The poor elf actually courted her for centuries before she showed her true colors. I cannot remember the last time I have seen him. He used to tell such marvelous tales in the Hall of Fire. The last I heard, he had taken to roaming the forests between Imladris and The Grey Havens. Only such a one as Galangal could drive an ellon from his home. Lord Elrond is lucky to be bound. I am sure she would attempt to set her sights on him as well.

“And what of Lord Elrohir? Did you not say you were sure to announce your betrothal any time now?” I asked sweetly. “Or was it Lord Elladan? Perhaps you wish to be bound to both?”

That elleth has no shame. She actually told me that I must be mistaken, and that the ‘young’ elf lords were merely close friends of hers. She said that perhaps it was my insecurity and jealousy that colored my opinions. She suggested that if I were to play my cards right, I may land one of them as a husband someday, and even went so far as to graciously offer to ‘teach’ me how to win the affections of a suitable ellon. Apparently, I lack the feminine graces and wiles necessary to land a mate.

‘For all of the fine gowns and airs you put on, you are still lacking in feminine charm, Nólemíre.” She sniffed. “You are far too fond of weaponry, horses and books. If you plan on either of the Peredhil twins as a life mate, you must really learn the art of femininity. Even your beloved Atanoné would do well to heed my advice. Lord Aearion needs an elleth who can keep his affairs in order and represent him well.”

As soon as that last little nugget of wisdom left her lips, I ceased walking and stood there staring at her with my mouth hanging open.  I wasn’t sure what shocked me more; the possibility of either of the twin Elf Lords of Imladris as a feä [7] mate, the idea that I was not feminine enough, or the mere thought of you keeping Aearion’s affairs in order. I shook my head and resumed walking. She was rambling on about ‘ill manners’ and ‘life of solitude’ as I walked away from her, but I was tired of her company. The great gates were behind us by now, and another group of Galadrim Elves were waiting to take our mounts, before showing us to our lodgings.

I bade goodbye to my horse before he was led away, and followed a beautiful elleth who appeared at my side as soon as I did so.  Aurë is daylight itself, and although she is our age, her feä does not feel new to me. Do not ask me how I know, but I believe she is an old soul, re-housed into a new body.

She led me to a talan [8] that afforded me a wonderful view of the wood as well as the very center of Caras Galadhron itself, depending upon which way you look. The city is beautiful, Atanone! The very city seems to hang from the trees like a lantern, yet appear to have sprung from the trees themselves. An ethereal glow emanates from each portal and opening, while tiny orbs of light dance and flicker along the delicate stairs that wind around the mallorns. Imladris has its own elegance, but next to Caras Galadhron, it is strong and almost stuffy. Lothlorien is gentle and graceful.

The talan is spectacularly simple and elegant all at the same time. The furnishings are sparse, but the detail to each piece is incredible. There is a sitting area with a bookcase, chaise lounge and sofa. There is also a dining nook with a small table with two chairs. My sleeping quarters are equally simple, and soothing. My bed is curtained with filmy sheets of gauze, and the bed appears to be a part of the mallorn. I don’t believe that the intricate, flowing designs were carved out of the tree. I believe that they were made by the mallorn itself. There is a separate dressing area with a mirror, armoire and a vanity. My favorite part of the talan is the ledge that faces the east, away from the city itself. I shall be able to greet the dawn if I choose, or enjoy the twilight as I wait for the stars to appear.

I am writing this letter from the ledge as I wait for my escort to the feast. Aurë had mentioned that someone would come for me when it was time. Before she left, she helped me to unpack my belongings. I had not even noticed how or when they appeared. She found a place for everything. It is almost as if the talan was furnished especially for me.

When we were done, I followed her down to the baths. The bathing pools are wonders in themselves. They are crystal clear, and fed from streams of warm water that pour from fissures in a large boulder that sits above the pools. One can stand beneath the small cascades that fall from the rock. The pools empty out into another small stream that eventually meets the Nimrodel.

Aurë eventually had to pull me from the baths with the reminder that we still had to dress for the welcoming feast. She all but dragged me back to my talan and helped me with my hair before she left. To my surprise, she had already laid two dresses on my bed, saving me from the agony of wondering what would be most suitable. I settled on the black dress with the silver and ebony threaded accents. (The one you gave me before I left.)

That was a couple of hours ago. I am not sure though. Time runs differently here in Lothlorien. Aurë has returned, and is asking if I would like to send this letter out with her cousin who is leaving for Imladris with a semi urgent parcel for Lord Glorfindel. I can only imagine what it is. I shall have to apologize to him when he returns, since I have the distinct feeling that if weren’t for us, he would not be missing the feast. I shall describe it to you in detail the next time I write.

Aurë is getting impatient, so I close with my fondest regards. I wish you sweet water and light laughter until next we meet.

Nólemíre

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[1] Female elf

[2] Half-Elven 

[3] Male Elf

[4] Middle-Earth

[5] Luthien Tinuviel – Daughter of Thingol, She was the ’Morning Star’ of the elves, and loved a mortal man (Beren). Arwen is said to resemble her.

[6] Ithiliel- (Daughter of The Moon) – Nólemíre’s mother is named Ithil

[7] Soul

[8] Platform dwelling built in the trees