The Valley of the Bruinen was a deep and narrow wedge of fertile ground pressed against the forbidding heights of Hithaeglir and abutting the broader, bowl-shaper depression defined by the Hoarwell's icy flow and the bounding uplift called the Weather Hills. The secluded vale seemed small in comparison to the greater expanses of Eriador and was so removed from those regions dominated by mortal kind that its existence was falling into myth. In the hidden sanctuary of the Elves, time had stalled and the people there were quickly left behind by the swiftly shifting years outside its borders.
Or perhaps it was the other way round. Maybe in Rivendell the seasons revolved as they had been designed in the beginning while beyond the high, forested walls the rest of Arda progressed through the years at an accelerated pace engendered by the advent of Men. Human existence took place in a frenzy of activity that left little opportunity for contemplation and reflection. The people of the mortal realms were very busy with the job of survival and the span of days allotted them short. It is likely this factor which formed so strong an impression of tranquility and peace upon those few of Iluvatar's younger children destined to visit Elrond's haven.
So mused Aragorn, Estel of Rivendell, as he strolled along one particularly idyllic byway laced through the carefully tended groves of pear and apple trees in his foster-father's estate, the Lady Arwen humming sweetly at his side.
For the Noldorin and Sindarin inhabitants, such an ideal never existed and none of them would deem their fair realm a sedate, serene locale though they were currently shielded from open war with any of the Shadow's many agents. There were always undercurrents and intrigues, dramas and comedies, tragedies and joys occurring throughout the length and breadth of the sheltered dale, as there would be in any community. An enclave of Elves was probably more riddled with scenes of domestic conflict between family members, neighbours, and friends, a consequence of virtual immortality being that one tended to learn a great deal about one anothers' strengths and weaknesses over time and how to exploit, encourage, or hinder them. The pace of all interactions followed the natural rhythms patterned by the form in which Iluvatar cast his favoured Star Children.
A 'day' for an Elf, when defined as a period of wakeful activity, was not measured in the cycle of Arien's journey through the sky, though that term was readily used among the Noldor for practical purposes. No, among the First-born real sleep was rare and seldom needed, so that there was instead a slow oscillation between a brightly animated mental state and a more dream-like one in which the spirit sought communion with Eru. During the latter phase, the body proceeded in a semi-conscious limbo, continuing to perform required functions, senses ever alert should emergency require the intellect to wake. The duration of each condition was not equal; the mind might remain hyperaware for more than ten turns of the sun before the subtle shift into Ôlpathu, the living-dream, happened.
An elf in Ôlpathu could carry out just about any duty or activity, converse with others rationally, and was usually found singing a wordless song, more a vibrational resonation of the soul than a tune, whether alone or among family. A mated couple would drift through this continuum in synchrony while individual members of a household tended to enter and exit the resting state in waves so that never was every member of a family in the dream-time together. The eyes, usually so piercing and focused that a mortal could not abide their gaze, were often filled with a soft and mellow light that seemed to glance rather than perceive. Movements did not necessarily slow but became more fluent and agile, every muscle and fibre attuned to the work of renewal, the perpetual grace of the eldar enhanced as their beings became submerged in the Music.
Conversations with an elf in Ôlpathu were limited out of respect and reluctance to disturb Pathrol na Gail. Words uttered from this fugue of deep association with the Song of Life were considered Pith Thenid and depending on the lineage of the given elf might also be deemed prophetic or sacred. Answers thus given from this mental state, being direct and unequivocal, tended to belie the notion of spurning the counsel of elves. Nonetheless, it was considered extremely rude to intrude upon another's Lu Eden, though some might do so without reprisal. Parents, for instance, were permitted to oversee their elflings' dreaming. There was good reason for the strict tabu against such interaction; most disagreements arose due to something said when tact and decorum were set aside for absolute truth. Fortunately, except in times of great duress or physical exertion, Ôlpathu was short in comparison to the days of vibrant lucidity for which the elves were known.
Every elf knew these things, but among mortals the idea of wakeful sleep was incomprehensible. This ignorance no doubt gave rise to many misconceptions regarding elves, that they were aloof, distant, and held themselves above interaction with other people. The truth was that elves had simply given up trying to explain it and if there was arrogance in that it was born from long centuries of trying to educate the other free peoples on Arda on the nature of the First-born with very limited success. Elves could not make others comprehend the concept of immortality, the need for a separate Elven Home across the Great Sea, or the magnificence of Iluvatar's Song. Was it any wonder that they were leaving Middle-earth for Aman? Nay, and those that remained secreted themselves away from mortals as much as possible. In fact, the Noldorin and Sindarin and Telerin elves had become just as reclusive and xenophobic as the Wood Elves.
Such were the thoughts of Aragorn. He shook his head with a wry grin; the folk of Imladris would be appalled to hear their culture likened to that of the primitive sylvans inhabiting wild Mirkwood's dark domain. He reached up for a flower-laden bow of hawthorn, directed thus by the pointing hand of the Evenstar, and neatly sliced it free with his dagger. His smile gentled as he laid the branch upon the others in her basket, humming along for a moment as she sang her soul-song, for she walked at his side in Ôlpathu and that was the reason for his rambling introspection. She smiled, too, as their eyes met and then she ambled on through the wooded path, plucking blossoms as she went.
Having grown up in Imladris, Aragorn was certainly familiar with this periodic merging of the feä with the One, yet it never ceased to fill him with quiet awe to see Arwen lost in the strains of the Music. Though he could not hear what she heard or see what she viewed in her dreams, he believed he was a part of them. The melodic tone of her vocal chords held a sombre timbre, a hint of something more earthy than star-like, as if her Song was bound not to the elusive source somewhere across the ocean but grounded here, in the land she walked on now. Somehow, it always made him feel that she was weaving together the random strands of energy that would become his very life, for there was a solidity, a finite quality to her voice that he had heard from no other elf. The idea filled him with loving pride and despairing sorrow, for how could he accept her love when it meant she must choose his mortal fate?
Still, not every thought he had while watching her was so weighty and dire. Aragorn was not above using the rare chance to glean some information that he was certain would never be revealed otherwise. He was an astute Man and not blind by any means; he had noticed Legolas' extreme discomfort whenever he chanced to meet Arwen. Aragorn wanted to know the reason for it, not that he was jealous of the bizarre 'male' as a rival. No, he was just curious. Really.
"Arwen, melethen."
"Hmmmm?"
"Legolas does not seem easy in your presence."
"Nay, he is not."
"Why is that?"
"He is embarrassed to face me."
"Why is he embarrassed to face you?"
"Because I fondled his soft, velvety sac and yanked on his lovely little cock."
"WHAT?!" Somehow that was not what the Man had imagined he would hear and he stopped in mid-step.
The strident note of furious disbelief jolted through the Evenstar's dream and brought her to the lesser plane of her mortal lover's existence in a heartbeat. She blinked and then frowned, her face colouring as she realised what Aragorn was up to. "That is inexcusable," she scolded and then smiled wickedly as she realised exactly what the most fitting revenge would be. "Shall I tell you the whole story, dearest?"
"Yes. No! Arwen, what has been going on here?" Aragorn didn't like that gleam in her eyes. "I apologise for intruding on Ôlpathu; I swear I will never do so again."
"Too late for that," Arwen shook her head, enjoying his discomfort immensely.
"No, you must forgive me, beloved. I was but playing a prank on you but I see how wrong it was. I should have trusted you and simply asked about Legolas' strange reaction to you."
"Ah, but you didn't and that's because you correctly surmised that I would refrain from telling you. It doesn't concern you and I wouldn't think it right to reveal something that obviously gives Legolas so much pain to recall. Well, now I think it will cause you more pain to know of it and that is a punishment your unscrupulous attempt at manipulation deserves."
"Nay, Arwen, I just wanted to…"
"Legolas, more so than most elves, loves to bathe." Arwen talked over his attempts at apology and proceeded with her story. "He is a creature of most regular habits and follows a strict routine of daily cleansing. It did not take me long to learn this for Adar and Erestor talk about him almost constantly. Ada has enough discretion not to reveal to his cousin exactly where Legolas likes to bathe, but to me he was most forthcoming. I followed Legolas."
"I don't want to hear any more."
"No? Then you shouldn't have asked. As I said, I was following but he's a Wood Elf and knew at once, so on that day I was thwarted. I had to make up an excuse and leave him standing there in nothing but a thin cotton robe, tied quite loosely, I might add, for he was in a part of the valley few would chance to go. The robe was slipping off his shoulder because he had a bag containing his bath things slung over it. A very fine view of that lovely apricot skin was exposed from his neck all the way down to his cute little belly button. Do you know, his nipples are pink instead of brown; must be his fair colouring."
"Arwen!"
"Well, I had to figure out a means to see him completely naked; nipples and belly-buttons are just plain teasing by themselves."
"Arwen!"
"Of course the answer was so obvious: I had to get there first. So the very next day I rose extra early, donned my bathing robe and gathered up what I would need from my bathroom, prepared to forego the luxury of hot water in order to satisfy my curiosity over this sylvan beauty and his magical allure."
At this point the Man just groaned, dropping his head low in defeated agony.
"Now just to prove how much I trust you, Estel, despite your lack of same for me, I will tell you a secret only Miny'ammë knows. I can do a little magic of my own and cast a screening spell so he wouldn't sense my presence in his private domain. Yet even in that I was fortunate, for had there been any trees about I'm sure they would have given away my hiding place.
"He arrived right on schedule and set aside his bag, stripped off the robe, and stepped into the quiet pool. As soon as he ducked his head under the surface to wet his hair, I cast off my own robe and jumped in." As she spoke, the Evenstar slowly circled around the contrite man and noticed with grim pleasure that he was rigid to the point of trembling. "The splash startled him but I am very fast when I want to be and I was at his side in an instant. You should have seen the shock on his face! Such becoming blue eyes all wide and innocent, his luscious red lips parted like a drawn bow. A mouth most inviting, a kissable, delectable mouth."
"You didn't!"
"I'm not a virgin, Estel, did you think I was? I've done more than kissing with more than a few elves and I would have very much liked to sample his…"
"Enough! I beg you, Arwen. Tell me no more of this!" Aragorn pleaded, falling to his knees and clapping his hands over his ears.
"Nonsense, you're an adult male and I'm sure you're no virgin either. I think you're sneaky soul-spying was wise after all; it is good to discuss such issues openly. Now, where was I? Oh yes, I grabbed him by the wrist and wouldn't let go though he tried frantically to get free, all with his eyes squeezed shut, making every effort not to touch me anywhere.
"What's wrong? Don't you want this? Am I so unappealing you must shut your eyes? I teased him and he let out a strangled sort of panicked denial.
"Nay, Lady, saes, I belong to your Adar!"
"I shrugged and made my breast bump his arm. "I don't see any ring on your finger, Legolas," said I and the response was most enlightening. He put a hand to my shoulder and pressed back, trying to make me let go, an expression I can only describe as hurt and betrayal darkening his brow."
"You were trying to seduce him," Aragorn's tone was flat and hard. His mouth tasted as if he'd dumped the residue of his pipe on his tongue. This could not be real. Somehow he was the one who'd fallen into dreams and now it had changed into a nightmare.
"Of course and I wasn't about to be so easily convinced; my whole purpose was to see if I could tempt him. Thus, I grabbed his hand off my shoulder and pulled hard until I was flush against him, bosom to bosom as it were, circling my arm around his waist to hold him tight."
"Please, no more. You are avenged, Lady. I know my place again." Aragorn made no effort to conceal his bitterness.
Arwen glared but otherwise ignored his interruption. "The poor elfling! How he gasped and squirmed trying to twist loose! It was thrilling; his chest is nicely muscled and it felt wondrous as my nipples were pulled and tugged against his. He felt lithe and warm and strong and lean. Yet one thing I did not feel. The thrill was not reciprocated; the press of my body against his was not enjoyable to him." Arwen's gaze softened as she saw her beloved's eyes fill with both hope and pain.
"You would think that would be sufficient evidence to gain my trust, yet I am stubborn. Many elves can master their bodies and perhaps for all his youth this sylvan was counted among them. Mayhap he was merely clever as Erestor claims, protecting his newly exalted status by pretending to feel nothing. That's when I grabbed his penis and palmed his balls." Her words made Aragorn wince and look away but in a second she grabbed his chin between her fingers and made him face her as she continued.
"That woke him up! Not caring a bit that I was a Lady and his lover's daughter, he kicked me hard and sent me splashing backwards. When I regained my balance, he was gone, but I'd learned what I wanted to know. He did not like being touched that way. Instead of being tempted to take advantage of my offer, he was horrified and ashamed. He was also frightened, Aragorn." Arwen paused, her tone no longer jeering and mocking, and waited for her betrothed to raise his eyes to hers.
"I don't understand. Why would he be scared of you?" Aragorn could not mask his relief to hear the outcome of this lurid tale. Had his fair Evenstar gone on to describe a coupling between herself and the Wood Elf, his soul would have been crushed and he'd have lost all faith in life. He breathed a deep lungful of the sweetly scented air and exhaled away his strife and tension, focusing on her fully, for it was plain what she would say next was to her the most important aspect of the encounter.
"He fears me because he is the subject of nothing but rumours, the victim of many such propositions. Adar does not seem to be aware that the people in his household consider Legolas fair game. They all believe he is only with my father because he wants to better his station. They don't think it possible for him to love Elrond or for Elrond to love him, so he is viewed as a courtesan would be. He was fearful that I would be like the others who boasted of bedding him even though he has turned down every single one. Do you know why that worried him so?"
"Aye, I do," Aragorn nodded, recalling now the clear, unmarred goodwill in Legolas' smile upon learning of his love for Arwen and his for her. "He didn't want Elrond to be hurt, as surely he would be if he heard his daughter had lain with his young lover. Ai, Arwen, why did you do this thing?"
"Now I will reveal what I was truly trying to hide from you. I didn't want you to know I shared those hateful thoughts about Legolas. I believed all the horrid things Elrohir said and I resented a lowly Wood Elf usurping my Nana's place. I was sure he would succumb to my seduction and then I would reveal the truth to Ada. So, now you see that I am just as small-minded and prejudiced as those 'arrogant, self-serving, aristocratic Noldorin fools' you so abhore."
"Oh, Arwen, I would never think of you that way! I understand how grief for your mother's departure made you vulnerable to suspicion and innuendo. You don't distrust Legolas now." Aragorn got to his feet and reached out for her hand, smiling to reassure her of his devotion.
"True, but look what was required before I would open my eyes and see him for what he is. I owe him an apology of mountainous proportions yet I know not how I can ever make it. He will not let me near him now." Arwen scowled in self-recrimination as she squeezed Aragorn's hand.
"Give it time, you will find the right moment. He will be uncomfortable for a long time, though, I would think," Aragorn was smiling over the mental image of Undomiel's ambuscade now. "So, not even a little tremble of excitement coursed through him to have the most beautiful elf in all the world naked in his arms?" He chuckled, seeing how Arwen frowned and coloured in chagrinned remorse mixed with wounded feminine pride.
"It isn't funny!" she insisted. "He has been very well brought up and I can't imagine what he must think of me. I don't think he's every actually felt a female's body before and hasn't touched a breast since he was weaned."
Aragorn laughed outright at this remark and shook his head. "Oh, no doubt he was thoroughly scandalised! Worry not, he knows of our love for one another now and will someday find the means to forgive you."
"I don't know which is worse, having him think me brazen and promiscuous or distrustful and wicked. Even so, he has not so much as hinted of anything improper to you or to Ada. Legolas is chivalrous and deserves to be treated with honour and respect."
"That he does," Aragorn agreed, smiling. He wished he could tell Arwen about the unborn babe, but he was not about to betray his new friend's confidence. "I have a feeling your father will make new efforts to see that this comes to pass."
"I pray you're right, but whatever upset him earlier today sounded serious. I'm glad Adar went after him."
"Aye, Legolas needs him close just now; he's ben under a lot of stress. The night's festivities should go far toward easing his sore heart, I'm sure."
"Yes." A pause proceeded as their eyes locked and each became lost in the other's smile. Then Arwen sighed and tugged her Man back into step beside her. "I'm pleased the issue between Finduilas and Denethor has been resolved, but I am saddened that their marriage heralds your departure, my love. Who knows when next we will enjoy such a time as this? It may be many years before we can walk hand in hand in such tranquility and peace."
"True and I don't want to leave you. The only thing that sustains me is knowing each effort I put forth leads me closer to the day when others spend their morning decorating for our bonding ceremony."
"Aye, that is a day to look forward to, a future to nurture with love and patience."
Now it was Aragorn who exhaled a woebegone breath. "Will you remain in Imladris for a time?"
"Nay, I will take my aching heart back to Lothlorien where Miny'ammë can console me. At least there I can keep watch over you through the Mirror."
Aragorn stumbled and he blinked as if a bright light had blinded him. "Youspy on me whilst we're parted?" he hissed out, indignant and somewhat fearful. Ai! What has she seen?
"Spying? That's a rather ugly term for it, Estel. I merely consult the oracle when my heart forewarns of some dire threat. Is there something you wish to keep secret from me, beloved?"
"Of course there is! There are many things I've no wish for you to observe! Don't you relish your privacy and independence? How would you feel if I were to…" Aragorn was stopped mid-tirade by her bubbling laughter and he smiled in turn. She was only joking with him; a fitting prank on someone who had just violated the sanctity of Ôlpathu. "Enough! You are incorrigible."
"A truce then, mortal, if you will but pick me that bough filled with pear blossoms." Aragorn did so and they resumed their leisurely stroll.
The couple were gathering flowers and foliage to festoon the Last Homely House for Ened Ethuil and the marriage ceremony for Denethor and Finduilas. In fact, all of the valley was preparing for the festival, which had become quite popular among the younger inhabitants due to the relaxation of the more stringent of Noldorin customs regarding sexual activity among unbonded elves. The rather licentious dallying associated with the celebration was one of the main arguments against Legolas' place as Elrond's lover, for the august leader had neither banned the holiday nor forbidden his citizens to participate if they so wished.
Aragorn had ever heard of Mid-spring Rites before, though celebrations of renewal at the time of planting were common throughout the human settlements of Eriador. Nothing quite so free as the activities described by Erestor in such colourful language that it had made Aragorn, a seasoned Ranger, blush crimson. Still, he was looking forward to the ritual with growing excitement, especially since he was in Imladris with Arwen, for rarely did their visits to the valley coincide, and never on so fortuitous occasion. The Man cast a rather wolfish sidelong glance at his Lady and found to his immense delight that her cool grey eyes slid left to meet his, the composure displayed on her patrician features unable to disguise the fire in her soul.
On impulse he stopped on the woodland path and darted aside. There a wild tangle of Morning Glories clung to the trunk and limbs of an old apple, the vine spilling from the branches in long trailing sprays of clear, white blossoms. He gathered several lengths and quickly wove them into a fair crown of blooms, setting the simple circlet upon his beloved's brow. Arwen laughed in delight and leaned up to reward him with a kiss, short, sweet and with enough heat in it to melt him, before bounding off ahead, long black hair dancing behind her, merry giggles daring him to follow. With a grin Aragorn cast aside the greenery he held and sprinted in her wake, wishing Arien would hurry in her journey for once, eager for the promise of the night and the light of the bonfire.
That's All, folks. (not of the Story, just of this prelude.)
© 09/16/2007 Ellen Robey
Ôlpathu: DreamscapePathrol na Gail: Filling with Light - Enlightenment
Pith Thenid:True Words
Lu Eden: New Time
Aragorn rather sabotaged himself, didn't he now? If only he hadn't yelled out like that Arwen would probably have continued on and told all in a much less provocative manner. I don't know, maybe he deserved it. Perhaps Arwen has observed some hanky-panky on his part through Galadriel's Mirror! Well, I had to get this out of my system, it seems. I began writing the last part of chapter ten and this came out instead. A good friend wanted to know the details of how Arwen determined that Legolas' heart was true. Since the humans will be leaving after chapter ten, I couldn't really figure out where to put this scene, for Aragorn will leave with the Steward's retinue. It serves as a nice little prelude to the Main Event of Ened Ethuil, which will be a very long read and should be ready in about a week from now if all goes well. I'm in the home stretch. The reference to Legolas' upset does not refer to his confrontation with Denethor. What happened will become clear once chapter ten posts, for this actually happens after the upsetting event. Sorry if that sounds cryptic but just wanting to assure people that I'm not losing my mind (yet) and they didn't miss something important from the previous chapter. Hope you liked this take on the elven dream-state.