Silverhelm: A Tale of Two Enemies

I Meet That Imbecile of a Pointy-Eared Princeling Again

We reached Rivendell early the next morning. As we crossed the narrow bridge, elves came out to welcome us. The first such elf was Arwen, Elrond's daughter. She's my aunt, but we just forget all those greats and be friends. I grew up in Rivendell, so we're like sisters.

As we stepped through the arch, Arwen lost all her princeliness and the elegance that I'm so jealous of and came and embraced Aragorn. They stayed like that for a long time, so I took advantage of that time to crouch down and talk to the hobbits in a low whisper.

"The two of them have been in love for a very long time. I like to tease Arwen about that all the time, so you should go out of your way to tease Aragorn. You three remember: this is the House of Elrond, so be on your best behavior. Elves have different values than hobbits, and you should be respectful." I said these last two sentences while staring hard at Merry and Pippin, but I don't think they got the message. "You can make an exception for Arwen and me."

By now Aragorn and Arwen had separated, and they were gazing into each others' eyes. As I stood up, Arwen saw me from behind Aragorn.

"Lyrasael!" she said, then barrelled towards me, enveloping me in a tight embrace. I weakly patted her on the back, gasping for air. She released me, holding me at an arm's length by the shoulders.

"So. Whime are tye as sí edain? (So... Why are you with these men?)" Arwen asked me.

I met Aragorn's eyes, and we reached a silent agreement not to tell Arwen about the orc ambush, at least not yet.

"Oh, ni 'a following i Nazgul, edain following tien'a. Ni saw sí Lempe get attacked, ar, ehtelë, someone has ana keep i menfolk eth -o danger! (Oh, I was following the Nazgul, who were following them. I saw these five get attacked, and, well, someone has to keep the menfolk out of danger!)"

"Mal ni ósanwe tye were -esse i Ered Lithui! (But I thought you were in the Ash Mountains!)"

"I was," I said grimly. "From there I followed the Ringwraiths until I saw these five in danger."

"Danger?! Oh, no, Aragorn, now what did you get yourself into?" Arwen cried.

"It was nothing, just an ambush by orcs. Lyrasael and I easily took care of it," Aragorn responded.

"Oh, what am I doing keeping you here?" Arwen said. "You would want some rest, you've been on the road for days!"

"And a bath," I added.

"And a bath. And Lyrasael, your tunic is soaked with blood!"

"It's nothing," I said. "Really."

"Oh, yes, it is. You need to get that looked at," said Arwen. Honestly, sometimes she's like my sister, sometimes she's like the mother I've never had. I never met my parents; my father, the Elven one, died before I was born, and my mortal mother died during childbirth. I was raised by the elleth (female elves) of Rivendell.

An elleth led me to the room I would be staying in. I thanked her, then went straight to the hot bath in the corner. I took off my sword-belt, my bow and quiver strapped to my back, and the various knives and daggers I carried with me. I felt like a great weight had been lifted off my shoulders- because it had, weapons are heavy. Then I peeled off my tunic, soaked with blood, sweat, rain, and Sauron knows what else.

I descended into the steaming water, scented with lavender, and washed off weeks of filth. I couldn't remember the last time I had had a proper bath; in the Wild, wanting to get clean always resulted in impromptu splashed in a cold stream.

I climbed out and saw new clothes laid out for me, and thank goodness- I couldn't wear my current clothes in Rivendell! Laid across the bed was a simple lavender dress, leggings of the same color, white sandals, a ribbon to tie my hair with, and thank the Undying Lands, a clean bandage. I wrapped my wound (read: scratch) a bit more neatly than Aragorn had and put on my new clothes. Thankfully, the dress had long sleeves, so my scars couldn't be seen. I have scars everywhere else, and I am not ashamed of them. I'm not ashamed of any of my scars, but these- I don't show. I don't want anyone knowing what really happened to me. I tied my hair back in the traditional Elvish style, strapped a dagger to the back of my calf, and headed outside to see how Frodo was doing.

I called a greeting to the elves I knew and nodded politely to the ones I didn't. As I did, I looked around for Elladan and Elrohir, Elrond's sons- they were the ones that taught me to fight. As I looked around the courtyard, I bumped into someone. I looked up and saw a blond elf.

"You," I hissed, my heart filling with hate at the sight of this cold, cruel creature.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" he said, confused. He was acting. I was sure of it.

"You should," I snarled. "I'm the woman you tortured for thirty years to find the secret entrance to Erebor."

"Oh, you're that woman. You deserved it. An elleth doesn't fight, it is the ellon's job to protect them, not the other way around. Let that be a lesson to you." He looked as angry as me now. Good. The angrier he is, the easier it is to be angry at him.

"I am NOT an elleth!" I said. "And if I deserved torturing for fighting when I shouldn't, then what do you deserve for not fighting when you should've? Tell me, what do you deserve for being a capable warrior that cowers behind the enchanted trees of Mirkwood when it is time to fight for the sake of this world, my lord Legolas?!"I spat out those last three words like they were the poison of Mordor itself.

"Oh, I forgot. You aren't an elleth. You're a filthy half-breed. Even more, the reason to deserve torturing." He was dodging my question and wasn't acknowledging my insult, which made it harder for me to insult him, the filthy princeling. "Surprising that even Lord Elrond's kin can stoop so low as to marry a mortal, but then again, he is a filthy half-breed."

I had had enough. To insult me was bad, but bearable, to insult all women and call them weak was horrible, but to insult Lord Elrond was beyond forgiving in all the Ages of Arda. Quick as lightning, I drew back my fist and punched him in the jaw, hard enough that two of his teeth fell out. With a roar of fury, he leaped on me. I easily sidestepped his attack, flipped him onto the ground, and placed my sandaled foot on his chest, holding him down. How I wish I hadn't worn a dress and sandals, but something easier to move in! I pulled out the long dagger I had strapped to my leg and held it at his throat, preventing any movement from him. He stared at me, astonished.

"Surprised how hard it is to hurt me when I'm not tied down?" I said. Just then Aragorn, of all people, walked into the courtyard.

"Lyrasael, what are you doing to Legolas?" he cried. "Let him up! If you want to spar, do it on the practice courts!"

"This is no practice fight," the elf said, gasping for breath. "She is trying to kill me!"

"Shut up!" I ground my heel harder into his chest, and he cried out in pain. "This elf tortured me for thirty years under the hill in Mirkwood. He deserves to die not only for that but also for insulting Lord Elrond."

"Lyrasael, let him up," Aragorn ordered. "We cannot have two members of the Quest fighting to the death." Members of the Quest?! This beast- this creature cared about nothing but himself and, occasionally, Mirkwood! Why was he coming? Nonetheless, I removed my dagger from his throat and let him stand. As I sheathed my dagger, I swore him an oath.

"By the Ruling Ring and Sauron's Eye, I swear I will be the one to kill you, Legolas Greenleaf."

By the way, when I write in italic like this that means they are talking in Elvish, I couldn't find a good Elvish translator, and it takes a lot of time to translate what I want to say into Elvish, then write that into English so the reader can understand, I write like this.