The Price of Pride

Elvish translations

Meldir – friend (male)
N’uma – no
Mellyn-nín – my friends
Melethron – lover (male)
Aniron – I want
Uma – yes


Chapter 14

When I finally reached a decision and had myself under control again, I returned to Arwen’s room. I was still wearing my uniform from that morning, and while Elrond might have been tolerant at lunch, he would not be at dinner. I changed into more appropriate attire, wincing as muscles I had not used in months let me know that they did not appreciate the intensity of the workout I had given them that morning. I was massaging my leg absently, trying to ease a cramp, when Arwen returned.

“There you are, meldir. I have been looking for you. Where have you been?” Before I could think up a sensible reply – for how could I tell her the truth? – she noticed that I was rubbing my leg. “Did you overdo today? We do not want you to reinjure your leg!”
“It is just a cramp,” I assured her. “It will pass.”

She came to my side and kneaded the muscle expertly. The cramp subsided almost immediately. “I will give you a proper massage tonight, but for now, we should go to dinner.”

After dinner, Arwen again joined Lindir in providing music for our pleasure. Elrond excused himself, leaving me alone with the twins.

“Did you speak to her?” Elladan asked softly. Elrohir’s back was to me as he watched his sister and the minstrel, but I could tell he was listening.

“No, and I am not going to tell her.”

“What?!” the twins exploded in unison, though they managed to keep their voices down. “Why not?”

I explained my decision to them as best I could. They started to argue, but I cut them off. “N’uma! This is my choice to make and I have made it. Swear to me you will not interfere.” I caught the rebellious looks on their faces and knew that I had to press the issue. “This is between Arwen and me. Swear on your grandfather’s star that you will not interfere.” I did not often use the regal tone I had learned at my father’s knee, but it served me well now. “Swear,” I said one last time.

“By the light of Earendil, I swear,” they both said finally. “Though nothing but heartbreak can come of this,” Elrohir added.

“Perhaps not, but it is still for me to decide, mellyn-nín.”

The cramps returned with a vengeance as I waited for it to be late enough to leave, and not just in my leg. It felt like every muscle in my body was sore. I was limping by the time Arwen and I retired to her rooms for the night. She had to help me undress, I was so stiff. While I certainly did not mind her helping me remove my clothes, I was embarrassed to require her help. She just laughed. “Amme warned me about catering to the male ego,” she said.

I must have looked indignant for she laughed again. “I do not mind, melethron. I can think of worse fates than catering to you.”

If I had not been in so much pain from the muscle cramps, I would have shown her exactly how she could cater to me, but that was not an option given my state. I lay gracelessly down on the bed at Arwen’s urging. I watched silently as she shed her own clothes before climbing onto the bed beside me, a bottle of oil in her hand.

“I am not going to smell like lilacs, am I?” I asked. Lilac was still Arwen’s favorite scent.

“No. Roses,” she replied.

I lunged for the bottle before she could pour any on my skin. When I wrested it away from her and smelled it, I realized I had fallen for her trick. It was sandalwood oil. “Gullible,” she said, shaking her head as she snatched the oil back. “Do you want a massage or not?”

“Aniron,” I replied.

“Then be still.” She pushed me back onto my stomach and began working the oil into my skin with deep, strong strokes, loosening the tight muscles ath.ath. I groaned with pleasure as the tension left my shoulders and back, arms and neck. I couldn’t stop a shiver when her hands glided down and began work on my buttocks.

“So you like that, do you?” she murmured.

“Uma.”

“I will remember that.” Just for a moment, her touch became more loving, less clinical. Then she continued down my legs, working out the cramps in the muscles there. “Turn over,” she instructed when she had reached and finished my feet. Though her touch had been that of a healer rather than of a lover, except for that one moment, even the healer’s touch had an effect on me. Her eyes lit up as she noticed my semi-erect shaft. She stroked it once. “We shall save that muscle for last,” she informed me with a wicked gleam in her eyes, leaning up to kiss me lightly. Though her touch remained neutral as she worked her way up my legs and across my abdomen and chest, the promise in her words caused a very unclinical reaction. By the time she was done with the massage, I was aching for a different kind of touch.

When I could stand it no longer, I reached for the phial of oil she still held and poured some onto my own hands. I reached up and ran my slickened hands over her breasts, tweaking the dusky nipples in passing. “I think you said something about catering to my ego,” I murmured.

“Is that what you call it these days?” she asked, reaching down to stroke my erection. My hips came off the bed, following her touch. I did not bother to reply to her taunt. I had all I needed. Her hands on my body and her body under my hands. She was quickly as covered with oil as I was, and our bodies slid together most appealingly to the great satisfaction of us both.

That day became the pattern for our days in Rivendell. We trained with Glorfindel in the mornings, sometimes with the sword or knives, sometimes with the bow. I spent the afternoon helping Arwen with whatever duties claimed her time, either with Erestor in the library or with the healers. She soothed my sore muscles in the evenings until they could again withstand the strain. We made love often, as if we knew that our time together was limited.

I also spent what time I could planning for her birthday. I wanted to show her, since I could not tell her, how special she was to me, how much I loved her. Erestor provided me with the first suggestion. He reminded me of the cottage near the river that Elrond kept for Galadriel and Celeborn when they came to visit. They would not be visiting for Arwen’s birthday so the cottage would be vacant. I could arrange everything to my satisfaction there, with Arwen none the wiser until that night. He also promised to arrange flowers as he had done before. I wracked my brain for ideas beyond that. I had few opportunities to arrange romantic evenings since the only one I wanted to share them with was in Imladris and I was in Mirkwood. And my options for seeking advice were severely limited. Elladan and Elrohir had left on patrol the day after I made them swear not to interfere and I did not know when they were to return. I would not have felt comfortable asking Elrond even if he had approved of my feelings for Arwen. Celebrian, whom I might have felt comfortable asking, was not returning from Lórien until the day before Arwen’s birthday. That left Glorfindel and Erestor, because I certainly was not going to involve anyone who did not already know of my feelings. It was difficult enough keeping my feelings hidden as it was. Getting them alone without Arwen, though, was proving almost as difficult as coming up with ideas on my own. And I still had to find her a present. I would give her a bouquet of the same flowers that had been in her room the night of her Cuivië as I always did, but I would be with her this year, and I wanted to give her something special.

Arwen needed a new bow, and it would remind her of me every time she used it, but I really wanted something less functional. I thought about giving her a clip for her hair, but though it was personal, it did not seem special enough for my beloved. My father used to give my mother jewelry, and though I could have afforded anything I wanted, having something made would lead to questions I did not want to answer. Not to mention that the only jewelry I had ever seen Arwen wear was the Evenstar. I wanted to give her something that would remind her of me, not something that sat in a box in her dresser that she got out when I came so she wouldn’t feel guilty. I had despaired of finding the right gift and was about to settle for just giving her the flowers when inspiration hit, in the form of one of the cooks who came storming out of kitchen, fuming about the kittens that were forever underfoot.

Kittens. That was it. Arwen loved animals. She was forever at the stables, spoiling the horses. She was especially fond of the foals. I would see if the cook would let me have one of the kittens for Arwen.

“I could take one of them,” I told the cook, “if you really do want them out of your kitchen.”

The cook turned around in surprise. She had not seen me in the garden when she came out.

“I did not mean to startle you,” I reassured her, “but I could not help overhearing. I can only take one, but that would mean one less to get underfoot.”

“They are just plain kittens, Prince Legolas,” she stuttered. “Not anything special.”

“May I be the judge of that?” I asked her. Plain kittens were just fine with me. Arwen wouldn’t care. She would see a fluffy animal all her own.

The cook consented and led me into the kitchen. There were three kittens tangled together under the table where the cook’s assistants were trying to chop vegetables. The kittens kept wrapping around each other and the assistants’ ankles, generally making things difficult. I scooped them up, removing them from harm’s way, and examined them, trying to decide which one I would give to Arwen. They were all adorable, with soft fur and raspy tongues. I settled finally on the calico one with the green eyes. She seemed the most loving of the three, staying willingly on my lap when I released them. The cook gladly gave me permission to take the kitten with me, even providing me with a bowl and some food. Now all I had to do was hide her until Arwen’s birthday so I didn’t ruin the surprise.

The gift taken care of, the rest of my plans seemed to fall into place more easily. I made the arrangements and I waited. Two days before Arwen’s birthday, Elrond summoned me again to his study, this time to tell me that he was satisfied with my recovery and that I could return to Mirkwood at any time.

I informed him that I had no intention of leaving before Arwen’s birthday, unless he was planning on throwing me out. And if that was the case, he could explain my absence to Arwen before I left. He made no comment to that and I returned to my plans.