"Arwen? Oh Arwen!" She called, a soft smile on her ageless face; leaning over a railing she peered into the garden below. A muffled giggle could be heard from somewhere below.
Hands on her hip, Thennil raised an eyebrow as she caught a glimpse of shimmery fabric behind a stone figure. Moving along the hallway she looked down into another part of the garden, pretending to search adamantly for the hiding girl. Moving curtains, looking beneath benches, and in all the many nooks and crannies that Imadlris had to offer she continued her fabricated searching, smirking all the while as she heard the soft footsteps of the elfling that was trying to get away. Skipping down the steps into the garden, Thennil twirled, breathing deeply of the cool, pure air, ignoring the dark head of hair that continued to move farther and farther down the stairs that led to another level of the gardens below. Sighing she took a seat on a bench, her back to the fleeing girl.
"What am I going to do? Naneth is going to have my head if I don't get Arwen to do her embroidery! Oh, what am I to do?" She wondered aloud.
Another muffled laugh echoed through the gardens as her charge decided to back track.
Mouth twitching in withheld mirth, Thennil slipped into the foliage of the garden when she saw that her sister's back was turned. Crouching low to the ground, she crept through the ferns, making her way steadily to the stream that trickled through the gardens. It would provide a perfect path through the thicker foliage that her young sister would be making her way through without a doubt. Ever so often she would peak above the bushes and vines to track the dark head that was trying to make their way through the bushes without stepping on a twig or rattling the brush to much. She had come to the brook and had quickly made her way up it's sandy bank, getting in front of her sister, and stepping behind a large stone carving that stood next to the bath her sister would come to, she waited.
It wasn't long before she could hear the grunts, squeaks, and giggles of the petite figure. She stumbled onto the path, panting from her excursion, and brushed a strand of black hair from her eyes. Straightening her shoulders, she looked around and smiled when she concluded that she had not been followed. Relaxing she flicked the clumps of dirt and leaves from her skirts and untangled her sleeves from the knots that they had somehow gotten themselves into. Upon finishing the inspection of her deep blue gown, she made her way down the path, darting glances behind her ever so often to check for someone following her. It was on one of these glances back that Thennil stepped out from the carving, arms crossed in front of her and a threatening frown gracing her normally joyful features.
Arwen stumbled when she collided with something in front of her. Snapping her head up, she cringed at the expression on her sisters face. She stepped back, staring at her foot while toeing the ground. She sighed, and looked up with her big grey eyes, giving her sister the puppy dog look.
"Yes?"
"You were supposed to be in the sun room twenty minutes ago."
"Aye?"
"And what were you planning on doing down here?"
"Uhh, I was going to visit-umm-Belonin, we were going to go see his aunt who's been ill."
"Really? the eyebrow rose even higher, I'm sure that I just saw him meeting with his aunt this morning and she looked quite healthy."
"Oh-
"Why are you avoiding your lessons, Arwen?"
"..."
"Hmmm?"
The child sighed in exasperation, "It's so boring! And no one ever has anything interesting to say. Naneth is always so patient, but she is always called away for something or another and I end up sitting with all the ladies. They all talk about the weather, their garden's, and what child has accomplished this or that. Sometimes the Elder Ladies tell stories, but it's so, so-
"Dull?"
"Yes, exactly, and I can never ask if they might tell another one."
Moving a finger to tap her chin, Thennil contemplated,"Well, I might have just the story for you-
"Really? You always know such good stories because you travel all over the place, where is this one from? Lothlorien? Angmar? The Greenwood?" Arwen begged, pulling on her sisters sleeve.
"But only if you consent to my instruction for today."
"Yes! Yes! Anything for one of your stories, Nesa!"
"Come then, let's retire, I will show you my favorite place to sew, then you can hear your story."
"Where is the story from?" the elfling questioned, following after her taller relation, a bounce in her step.
"Somewhere, far, far away."
"Is it from among Men?" Arwen asked as they stopped in her room for her to grab her sewing basket before going down a door to get her sisters things.
"Perhaps..."
"It must be, because whenever Naneth says perhaps, it normally means yes." Thennil chuckled at her sisters accurate opinion. "It's from Angmar then, that is the only place of Men that I remember you visiting recently."
"Nay, it is folklore of the men to the south, it was raining and we had to stop at an inn, there was an old woman there who was a good story-teller, but that was years ago." she replied, rummaging through her closet to find the many tunics that she had worn holes in from being on patrol among her many other duties.
"Thennil?"
"Yes, little one?"
"Why do you wear tunics while other elleth wear gowns and dresses?"
She paused in her searching, wondering what brought this up. "Why do you ask?"
"Well, it's just that...you don't look like other Ladies most of the time...and some of them say that you act more like an ellon than an elleth, but I know you're not!"
Turning from her things, Thennil took in the worried expression on her sisters face. Her sister had a right to be concerned, to a point. She had always had a difficult time fitting in with the other elleth of Imadlris, mostly because of the path she had chosen to take. She had always been secure in who she was, but to see her sister like this only made it more of a reality that she was different, very different. Recalling the words her mother had once asked her, she took her sisters hand and drew her to the bed, waiting for her to situate herself before speaking.
Taking a breath, she calmed her mind, and spoke:
"Arwen, what do I normally do?"
"Fight..."
"And?"
"Uphold the weak, protect the helpless, punish the guilty, and a few other's that I can't remember."
"Yes, but what are the other traits of a warrior of our people?"
"Well they're supposed to be gracious, kind, be willing when they are being taught, to know different arts."
"That's right, now what is a lady? Or what do lady's do?"
"Well, they sew, weave, take care of the elflings, they are kind, they teach other people, and at my age are taught, they are known for being kind in word and deed most of the time." Arwen paused, going over both of the lists that she had made. It was as if a light had gone on that had not been there before.
"Do you see the similarities?"
"They're both kind, they both know something of the arts, the teach and are taught. They really aren't that different other than the fact that elleth don't normally go on patrol and fight."
Thennil smiled,"I am still a lady, even if I dress in tunics and practice in the training field. Being a lady isn't just about the clothes that you wear or the things that you do, it is how you act, and how you treat other people. It's a choice."
"I want to be a lady, a lady like you and Naneth. But how do I choose to do the right thing? How do I know I'm doing what a Lady would do?"
"We will teach you, and in time you will know what is the right choice to make when something happens." She reassured her sister with a tight hug.
Looking up adoringly, Arwen smiled,"I love you, even if other people don't think you're a lady, I know that you are."
"And I love you, my little light, always," she whispered, her heart aching, knowing that she could never really be what her sister proclaimed her to be.
T.A. 1975
Everything hurt, it burned, and yet it was cold, icy. It was like it was sucking the light out of her, leaving her dry of all hope. Laying there on the field of battle, bodies littering the ground, all she could think of was the bitter pain that resounded through her being, dragging her beneath its overwhelming waves. She could smell the death, it's stench flooded her nostrils, it would have caused her to choke if she had been able to breath properly. Twisting her head painfully, she gazed with unseeing eyes at the plain filled with her people and those of their allies.
Blood pooled in puddles, the smell of the dead sweaty bodies wafted through the air like a mist; the groans and cries of the wounded echoed pitifully, causing the healers to hurry in their movements. Many men broke down and began to wail at the sight of their many fallen comrades, they knew that the many wives and daughters back home would mourn this day for years to come. The healers worked as fast as they could, saving as many as they were able, but it was never enough. So many died, large graves were dug, and those who had fought valiantly were placed within. The elves bound up their wounded and buried their dead in graves that were covered with stone, an engraving of the date and a small limerick in honor of their sacrifice was carved into a stone that was set up as a marker for them to remember the evils that once burdened the world.
Even with all the death, and the destruction of the northern plains, hope began to grow slowly. Like a shy flower in the morning as the sun warms it, it began to bloom within the hearts of men and elves.
Many nights had she lay in a fevered sleep, raging in hallucinations that plagued her constantly. Her wounds were not easy to heal, even by her own father who was versed in such arts. Many nights he feared that he would loose her, her light seeming to fade before his very eyes. Word was sent to Galadriel, begging her to come and aid him in trying to save her. The elf came as soon as she received his summons, knowing that he would never call for her aid unless the situation was dire. Together they worked at healing their daughter, and granddaughter, putting all their energy into keeping her from passing over to the other side. Many times in her waking dreams she begged them to let her go, to release her from her pain, but they refused to give up.
"It is not only her future that hangs by a thread if she does not survive," Galadriel whispered when Elrond felt that all hope was lose, that he had exhausted all options available to save his daughter, "There are so many other's that will never come to be if her light diminishes. She must live."
Each one of her siblings came and sat with her when her fever abated, yet her fea lingered along the edges of death, unable to decide which it wished for more. Many days Arwen or her mother would sit beside her and tell her everything that had been happening, all the goings-ons, who had started training with her brothers or who was getting married. They wept openly, praying that the Valar and Eru would have mercy and bring her back from this deep sleep. Elladan and Elrohir would spend their nights guarding her, telling her of the pranks that they had pulled, or that they wished to pull, begging her to return to them so that they might band together as their unstoppable trio. Glorfindel visited from time to time, but with each visit he lamented more and more over his decision to train her, to teach her the ways of war. His time spent with her grew smaller and smaller, till he only peered in through her window at night to gaze on her pale, moon-lit face in hopes that she would awaken and that the joy would return to Imadlris. Elrond watched over his daughter with a heavy heart, tending to her, smoothing a strand of unruly hair into submission before messing it up again because it looked more like she had been running her hands through it. They mourned her, living though she was.
Summer hand turned to fall, and fall was on the brink of winter. The room where she lay was empty, everyone had left, the only noise was that of the wind through the trees, nature's song singing of the hope that the world still held on to. It was then that a pale hand twitched, spasmed, trembled. The movement moved to her white face as her eyes began to flutter, then open. Looking around her, she began to test her limits, stretching her unused limbs slowly, testing the waters. Upon realizing that she was still all intact she pushed back the soft coverlet and swung her legs over the side to the cool floor.
She Inhaled the fresh air before pushing off the bed and wobbling towards the mirror that hung from the far wall. Stumbling she gazed upon her face, then her body, before letting a tear fall. With unsteady fingers she traced a jagged scar that shown through the white cloth of her nightgown. It started at her right hip and traveled diagonally across her abdomen, skipping her breast, but ending in a white, puckered scar on her shoulder. Her breath was shaky as she looked at her face and realized for the first time that the sight in her left eye was not quite what it had been, it was hazy, and it only seemed to be able to define things that were practically right in front of her. Though there was no scar that could be seen outwardly, she knew in her heart that her ability to see far with that eye had slipped through her fingers. It was gone. The eye had become milky blue compared to the sapphire blue of her other eye.
She no longer looked the part of a lady, but a scarred warrior. One that had seen to much and who would never be able to view the world as he once had.
She had not heard the footsteps that had entered the room before she turned around. Tears flowed from her eyes like a stream down her face, gazing through them she saw her father. She rushed into his arms and wept, her breath ragged as he ran his fingers through her hair while murmuring soothing words into her ear.
Her world was changing, and she did not know if she would ever be able to accept it. Her heart ached, she felt as if she was slowly loosing everything that she had worked so hard over the years.
So, tell me what you think! I probably won't be posting until sometime mid to late next week because work dumped a ton of hours on me. Please ask questions, and I'll try to answer them in my next post.
See ya!
Robin