Undisciplined Hearts

Alatáriël: Morning waned late, as most of Gondor’s citizens were loathe to greet the dawn. Indeed, the castles inhabitants groaned and held foreheads as they stumbled out of bed, many of the men wondering how they’d woken in strange places. But such was the nature of good mead and ale that curiosity was overshadowed by the tumultuous pounding of many a skull in the bright sunshine. Indeed, even the King himself was a bit groggy, much to the delight of his wife and son. “Getting old, Father?” Eldarion teased at the late breakfast. Aragorn merely scowled at his heir, which only made the young man’s mirth heighten. “Eldarion,” his mother chided with amusement. “Tease not your father, dear. Even if you do have more good sense than he.” The king only grunted at his family’s antics and continued his forced nourishment. But, as always, although taking a bit more every time, the feeling passed and the king sat in casual conference with his two most trusted friends. “What have you heard from Mayor Samwise recently, Legolas?” he asked solemnly. “It grieves me that he could not be present for the celebration. I would have liked to see him and his family again. If you and Gimli will be escorting the hobbits back to the Shire, would you be so kind as to extend my greetings and heartfelt good wishes?” Although he knew this to be a moot request. Aragorn held a special place in his heart for the brave hobbit, knowing of his crucial role in the destruction of the One Ring. “I do miss his wise tenderness.”



Legolas : Legolas couldn't help a chuckle at Eldarion's jest. He had inherited his mother's sense of humor complimented by his father's smirk. Last night's events still lingered in the back of his mind, but the day was new and the company enjoyable. Gimli ate much more slowly than usual, likely due to the same ailment Aragorn suffered from. Legolas kept a straight posture as they sat in the dining hall. He'd already finished his light meal. At Aragorn's question he smiled, looking thoughtful, "Gimli and I journeyed through the Shire only the past winter. Sam told us a little of the happenings in Hobbiton, the most notable of which being that Elanor is expecting a child." The elf smiled at delivering such news. The birth of any child was a joyous thing to be celebrated by all. Sam gaining another grandchild was even more cause for happiness... though some of his own children still had quite a bit of growing to do. If there was one thing of which elves could be envious of hobbits, it was their ability to bear so many, many children. "He is doing well, save for the few troubles that come with being a leader. He handles them well, though. We have heard little from him since... yet I am sure he is very busy." Legolas finished, accentuated by a thunderous belch from Gimli.



Alatáriël: Aragorn leveled a withering look at his son, who hadn’t ceased his teasing, but replied, “Ah, that is splendid! I’ve little doubt Sam and his lady-wife will have the child spoiled in no time,” he said with a heartfelt smile. “Such a joyous event indeed, the birth of a hobbiton child.” An idea was beginning to churn in the king’s mind. “I would go myself,” he murmured, “but duties here keep me busy, although I do long to visit Annuminas again. Prince Eldarion,” Aragorn began formally, his tone changing from the humored levity to kingly firmness, “it is my desire that you make a state journey to the Shire and pay Gondor’s respects to Mayor Samwise Gamgee in congratulations of his first grandchild. In consequence, you shall also escort Masters Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took wither they will.” Eldarion, in the middle of a jest with Gimli, blinked and stared at his father, a bit surprised at the sudden change of mood. “Sire?” he asked in a bit of incredulousness. Aragorn quirked a brow at his son. “Thus says your king, Prince Eldarion.” A ghost of a smile hovered over the king’s lips and Arwen hid her smile in her napkin. Gimli belched again and laughed. “Ah, another adventure, then! Very well indeed!” Aragorn continued in his formal vein. “Prince Legolas, I ask you to join in representation of the Woodland elves…” he paused and stroked his beard, other hand propped on the table. “And I do believe I shall entreat Gildor of Rivendell as well, since he and company travel in the same direction for a time.”



Legolas : Legolas laughed quietly at Eldarion's new assignment. No doubt he would rather enjoy the summer in the company of some of his many admirers. The Mirkwood Prince, for his part, was more than happy to oblige. He was about to speak his agreement when a thought struck him, flowing out in a question almost immediately. "What of the Lorien elves? It has been long since one of their folk journeyed much abroad, and I cannot recall them visiting the Shire..." He leaned forward slightly in anticipation of his answer. If Aragorn made a request for a representative -for Alatáriël- to go with them to the Shire, then Valandil could not refuse! This could be her only chance to see the things of which she'd dreamed, at least a little before returning to her cage.



Alatáriël: Aragorn carefully kept his countenance thoughtful lest he break into chuckles at the expression on his friend’s face. Lorien elves, indeed. Aragorn would wager much that it wasn’t the whole of Lothlorien on his friend’s mind, but he was determined to keep some dignity, at least. Arwen didn’t miss the nuance either, for she glanced knowingly at her husband. “Lord Valandil will select a proper representative, I’m sure,” Aragorn returned blandly. “I am not as familiar with them as I am the other factions, sadly enough. A problem I mean to rectify in the near future.” He stroked his beard yet again. “Hm, perhaps Orophin or Rúmil would be kind enough to oblige. Haldir’s brothers are able warriors and strict diplomats, that’s sure.”



Legolas : Legolas flushed just the slightest. He felt he was being baited, and suddenly felt very self-conscious for his request. Still, Alatariel's happiness hinged on whether or not she was ever allowed to explore, even just a bit. Legolas plodded forward, regardless of the grin and mumbled comment by his dwarf-friend. "Actually, I have spoken to some of them. Lord Valandil has a daughter who is close to being of the right age to see the world around her without prejudice that others may carry. I believe it would do her good to see the Shire, and the halflings would like her more for her openness to their world."



Alatáriël: Aragorn kept his bland expression and leaned back comfortably in his chair, opening the throat of his tunic. Damned constricting things, collars. He excused Gimli’s muttered gruff comment of, “Wonderful! Now the pointy-ear’s gone and lost his head over a mere tween’s skirts! What next?” Eldarion snickered most unbecomingly and raised his voice. “Ah, you speak of Lady Alatáriël, Legolas. Yes, Father,” he said, turning to the king with enthusiasm. “I myself have met and spoken with her. She is young, true, but ever polite and dignified.” The prince’s grin spread. “And lovely, as well. I beg you entreat Lord Valandil to allow her to join our entourage. There will be naught but safety and high spirits along the journey. And she expressed the utmost curiosity about other races of Middle Earth. Please, Father, she would be the best representative from the Lothlorien elves. Prince Legolas speaks truly.”



Legolas : Legolas raised a brow at Eldarion and wondered at once of his intentions. Still, if they presented the same argument, it mattered not for the moment. Waiting patiently for Aragorn's answer, Legolas leaned back in his seat, straightening himself and regaining a bit of his dignity, though he speared Gimli with a small glare. The dwarf only chuckled as it seemed to confirm his suspicions, humming merrily to himself as he piled his plate with more food than Legolas guessed any one person should ever eat. They were wrong, of course. He had only the purest of intentions, willing to see the lady be happy, as everyone has a right to. The fact that she was fair and lovely had little to do with it. He was fairly certain that if he made this argument, he would be quite and quickly teased again.



Alatáriël: The Queen spoke. “An excellent idea, Legolas,” she said gently. “I myself spoke with the young lady and judged her to be bright and intelligent. I think the journey would be quite educational for her. Surely she could be no safer than with the assembled entourage. Do speak with Lord Valandil, Aragorn. Assure him that no undue harm shall come to his daughter,” she added, with a stern glance at her son, who had the grace to flush and lower his eyes. Satisfied the prince was humbled enough, she rose from her chair gracefully and, her youngest daughter on her hip, led the other girls from the dining hall, exiting through the side door. Aragorn watched them go with a gentle smile, then the meal finished in quiet peace. Afterwards, he caught Legolas by the arm and inquired, “If you and Gimli have other obligations, there is no reason Eldarion cannot go alone. I merely gave him this task to give him something constructive this summer. Aside from swiving all the noble ladies of the court and badgering me constantly about fame and glory. I fear the lad needs a lesson in character. But a three hundred league journey will not be easy, despite the jocularity. If you would refuse, do not fear to do so.”



Legolas : Legolas withheld the small, relieved sigh at the Queen's words. Certainly, Aragorn would ask Valandil now. The Lady Evenstar had a way of bending him to her whims and fancies, as she had with her father. Few could refuse her of anything, her beauty and charm had taken many a breath from those blessed enough to meet her. Legolas smiled his gratitude to her as she and her daughters rose and left. When the meal was finished, the prince excused himself and intended to walk the gardens, when Aragorn stopped him. He knew better than to think Aragorn thought him too busy. Did everyone think him so stricken with this maiden? The truth was beside the point. "We have no obligations elsewhere. I had planned to visit Sam and see the Shire again soon. I can see that Eldarion still is young, and I agree this journey will do him good. Gimli and I can make certain of that," he said with a small smirk.



Alatáriël: Aragorn grinned. “Would that I be along to see it. The boy is headstrong, much like his mother.” Aragorn proceeded down the corridor into the sunlight, grimacing a bit as the rays seared his eyelids. “By the Valar, I’m getting far too old for this. And yes, I will speak to Lord Valandil. Doubtless he’ll object at first, but I’ve no doubt Arwen will exert her influence. Just…be sure my son behaves, hm? I cannot risk offending the Lorien elves and Eldarion doesn’t really consider politics before he acts. I sincerely hope he learns that trait if nothing else.” Later on that afternoon, Lord Valandil and his daughter met with the King and Queen in a small conference. Lord Valandil was, quite simply, on the verge of an apoplectic fit. Ren had never seen her father so unsettled. But she nearly gasped herself when she heard the king’s quiet entreaty. To visit the Shire! Unescorted by any of her family, to carry a diplomatic greeting to a former member of the Fellowship! The honor! Twisting her hands behind her silently, she just kept her eyes lowered as her father tried to wiggle out of this royal suggestion. “…Sire,” Valandil was saying, “…while I cannot argue that my daughter is most skilled in all forms of diplomacy, we elves holding protocol in strict reserve and regard, she is far too young to journey alone across the lands of Middle Earth! Especially such a distance!” Arwen smiled. “But she will not be alone, my lord. Lady Alatáriël will be traveling in the best of company, for my own son has been dispatched to lead the entourage. Traveling beside him are Gimli, Lord of the Glittering Caves and Prince Legolas of Mirkwood. As well as representatives from Rivendell and Masters Meridoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took. King Eomer and his sister, the Lady Eowyn and her husband Lord Faramir will be journeying as far as Edoras, having business in Rohan. I can assure you, she will be perfectly safe.” Again, her gentle smile. “Come, we elves are a hardy folk, are we not?” But her expression steeled just a fraction as Valandil still looked unhappy. “Lothlorien is still a part of Middle Earth, Lord Valandil. Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel never forgot the other races, did they, thus bringing about the unity of all. Lady Alatáriël shall accompany as representative of Lothlorien, the Golden Wood, to deliver greetings and renew ties with Master Samwise Gamgee, mayor of Hobbiton and his family.” Valandil, knowing better than to countermand a royal request, merely swallowed his bile and bowed low. “Of course, Your Majesty.” Ren, sensing it was her turn, stepped forward and did the same. “Majesties,” she echoed quietly. She knew she’d get lectured when they returned to their quarters, but to her surprise, none came. He merely looked long at her, as if memorizing her features. She stilled the coming words by embracing the older elf. “Father,” she whispered in Sindarin, “I know what you would say. And I beg you for silence. This task has been handed to me and I shall not fail. Although it seems trivial, it is but my first test in the world. Let me honor both you and the Golden Wood by completing it!” Stepping back, she twisted her fingers before her, but Valandil’s hands covered hers. He did not speak for a long moment, but finally answered. “Oh, my child. How I have longed to keep you safe, secure and by my side. I never wished to see the bird caged, merely protected. But even the slightest protection is as strong as iron bars.” Long slender fingers sifted through chestnut locks. “I love you dearly, my daughter, and only wish for your happiness. But it seems you must seek it elsewhere, and not beneath the boughs of Lorien. I will pray for your return to me with all haste and safety and wise in the ways of the world. Would that I could educate you, but some lessons must be learned through self-teachings. Go, and embrace all life has to offer, my dear.”




Legolas : The following day found the small company each preparing in one way or another for their departure. Legolas had already packed his few essentials and clasped the elven brooch that would hold the worn cloak of Lorien make over his shoulders. They it showed a few very small signs of wear, it was still a key part of his wardrobe. Gimli had yet to part with his as well. The elf prince gathered the two tiny braids that kept the finer strands of hair from his face and pinned threaded them into a larger braid at the back of his head, leaving most of his hair loose but for that which might get in the way. He smiled at his reflection in the mirror. Yes, the garb of a warrior and a wanderer fit him best. Not even the loveliest threads of elvish make could convince him otherwise. Already he could hear Gimli clacking and clanking down the hall, ambling his way. Dwarves were many things. Quiet was not one of them. He could easily add to that list but withheld it until a time when his short friend would be there to appreciate his humor. Settling the small pack over his shoulder, he opened the door and made his way to the courtyard where the others would all meet to farewell the king and queen before setting out on their journey. His quiver was full, and though he knew they likely would have no trouble, it always felt better to have the familiar weight of a goodly amount of arrows on his back. Gimli caught up with him in the hall, and the two talked all the way. "I see ye have a fair spring in yer step today, elf. Could it be the company we'll be keeping that's got ye so roused?" Gimli didn't hide his knowing grin as he elbowed Legolas' hip as if knowing a great and amusing secret. The elf only smirked, "What company are you referring to? As much as I value you as a friend, you are not my definition of fair." A right and proper return, he figured. Gimli huffed in mock outrage, "Why, ye may think it's all lovely and nice to go 'round smooth as a polished stone an' prancing about like a wee fairy, but I'll have ye know that by dwarf standards, yer the ugly one. And ye know right and well, laddie, who I'm speaking of..." The grin returned. Legolas merely kept his smirk and feigned ignorance, "I've no idea, really."



Alatáriël: The preceding day had passed rather quickly for Ren. Having really little to no idea of how one went about preparing for such a trip, she was saved by the Queen’s intervention in the person of Lady Eowyn. The Matron of Rohan was well used to traveling via horseback and carried altogether a noble and kind air, providing a wealth of knowledge for the tender young elf. Taking Ren beneath her wing, she outfitted everything needed for such a trip, from clothes to supplies to weapons even. When Ren shyly informed Eowyn of her skill with the bow, the shieldmaiden immediately bustled her off to the smithy, where a hesitant Ren took her choice of Gondor’s finest bows and arrows. Although not of Lorien make, they all were well made and hardy; she had no trouble spotting one to her liking. When inquired of a blade, Ren flushed and had to admit veritable ignorance. “Tsk. Better to have one and not need it then the other way ‘round,” she said with a smile, ushering the elf maid to the racks of bright steel. Eowyn, well experienced in the use of a sword, guided the other in selecting a lightweight blade with a hard tang, fitted for her hand. “Not an elven blade, to be sure, but it’s light enough for you to wield. Don’t fret,” she said gently, “you’ll doubtless receive instruction along the way.” Eowyn eyed the elf a bit knowingly. “From countless sources, I’m sure.” Ren, not understanding, merely sheathed the blade and added it to her growing collection. From the king’s stables, she chose a robust grey mare with black stockings on all four feet. A white blaze marked the horse’s face and the large liquid eyes were soft but hid an inner light. Ren crooned to the mare in elvish and the horse nickered back as if she understood. Love at first sight. Eowyn smiled, understanding the feeling. After lunch, Eowyn pulled Ren into the seamstress’s closet to find some suitable traveling clothes. The clothes she’d packed were more suited to a formal gathering than a cross-country trek. The Queen’s sewing mistress fixed this little problem. With pins, needles and considerable skill, she changed some of Ren’s more conservative gowns and dresses into a warrior maiden’s garb, altering the fit so that wearing weapons would be comfortable and easy. Not to mention the days in the saddle. By evening, Ren was receiving instruction of how to pack a saddle and bedroll sparingly, as to save the horse. She soaked up all she could, listening wide-eyed and eager. It all looked so simple. She didn’t sleep that night. She and her maid, who would be accompanying them on the trip as far as Rohan, remained awake, whispering excitedly together. Dawn found her in the stable, saddling her mare and arranging everything accordingly. That done, she hurried upstairs to receive the formal greetings to Master Samwise from her father and exchange a lingering embrace with her only family. But even his sadness couldn’t daunt her excitement. She fairly flew to the stable to retrieve her horse and join the others who were beginning to gather. She was determined to do her best. Thus she was seated atop her horse well before the rest of the company, holding the reins easily. The blade was sheathed to her saddle and the bow slung across her back, along with the quiver of arrows. She gazed into the distance, the morning breeze ruffling the falls of pressed emerald velvet that had been altered into a lady’s split skirted riding outfit, long chestnut waves gently flowing around slim shoulders. A braided lock wound around her head, holding back the rebellious strands from obscuring her vision, which remained ever fixed out over the plain, as if she could verily taste the beginnings of adventure.



Legolas : Gimli ceased his chiding remarks as the courtyard came into view. A stable boy held the reins to their mounts. Legolas had been blessed with a stallion whom Shadowfax himself had sired. The wizard's horse had gone with him into the Grey Havens to the land of its famed ancestry, but had not left Rohan's -nor Gondor's- stables without passing his bloodline through several mares. Though the horse he rode was not of full mearas blood, he showed nearly as much intelligence and spirit as his father. Arod, the horse who had carried he and Gimli through many perils in the battle with the Enemy, had been retired to live his remaining days in peace, cared for in his old home of Rohan. Legolas' new mount, Shadowstar, was the image of his sire, but for the black mane and tail of his mother. Gimli's mount was much like he was, short, stout and tough. And not much to look at, Legolas thought with a small grin. But the sturdy pony had heart. Of a smaller stock bred for hard work rather than speed, the aptly named Pelekko was as close to perfect as any horse could get for the dwarf, even named the elvish word for his weapon of choice. The pony snorted as his rider approached, pricking his dappled ears forward, his coat of white speckled with many flecks of grey twitching here and there. His shaggy, frizzled black mane and tail even resembled Gimli's beard in a way. Gimli had even learned to ride him well enough without falling off often, going as long as half a day without a single tumble. He'd opted to have his own horse when he tired of always riding behind a friend and relying on their questionable skills. To the dwarf, faster was not often better. Legolas smiled at the sight that greeted him. True enough, Alatáriël had been allowed to journey with them, and for that he was grateful. The look in her eyes held excitement and wonder he'd not seen in any elf for long, long years. She so reminded him of himself, especially when he was young and the world was new. He still was, and it still was, in a sense. But years of war and battle had taken some of the splendor out of life. Watching friends die and grieve killed a little part of any heart, even that of an immortal. Yet the look in her eyes stirred genuine happiness in him. He thoroughly hoped this world could be all she had dreamed of, and their journey would follow her into the West, kept forever fresh in her heart and mind in the Undying Lands.



Alatáriël: The king himself came forth to bid them safe journey and see the company off. Giving thanks for attendance, he stepped to his son and murmured a few more private words, ending with a hard clasp between king and heir. Eldarion, grinning, mounted his black stallion and rode to the front beside King Eomer and Lady Eowyn, nudging the animal with his heels to proceed down the circular street of Minas Tirith, headed for the city’s gates. Ren and Vanya, her grey mare, fell into place somewhere in the center, which seemed to be the best spot for her just now. The lords of Rohan treated her cordially and with the utmost respect, although not a few chuckled at the antics of the dwarf and his grizzled pony. Meriadoc and Peregrin rode with him, they considerably more skilled in horsemanship than he, and offered all sorts of advice, most of which went ignored and disdained. Ren could only laugh lightly and ride on. Once they reached the Fields, they turned west, heading away from the rising sun. Eldarion dropped back a bit to fall in beside Ren, smiling in greeting. “Good morning, my lady,” he said warmly. “I see the trip will be most pleasant indeed, with you to make it so.” She just gave him a smile in return and replied, “I thank you, Your Highness, but I fear this is yet my first true outing and you might find my ignorance most taxing as we go along.” The prince chuckled in jest. “Never fear, lady. Should you require assistance, I would never leave your side. My word on it.” A hail from above rang forth and Eldarion nodded to her and clicked his horse into a gallop, returning to the front of the line. Ren just shook her head a bit and sighed. Eldarion of Gondor was charming, certaintly, but from the talks she and Lady Eowyn had shared, she feared she was to be just another conquest for the young prince. Yet as ignorant in the ways of male and female, she had a broad generalization, but really didn’t want it used against her. Therefore she resolved to be on her guard against Eldarion’s seeming attentiveness. It was hard to accept, the thought that these Men would find her lovely, when she’d been overlooked so at home. The thought turned her gaze, quite against her will, to the other side of the column, where rode Prince Legolas alongside the crusty dwarf. He seemed perfectly at home on horseback, outfitted in a wanderer and warrior’s garb. Did he ever feel thusly? Or had he been among Men so long the nuance had worn away? She sat her mare easily, a thousand unanswered questions tumbling in her mind.



Legolas : Shadowstar kept alongside side Pelekko, who had been his own trusty, gruff little companion just as their riders were friends. Now and then one would nicker or snort to the other, mimicking the merry conversation between dwarf and elf. Though Gimli struggled with his stubborn little pony from time to time, it seemed a pleasant and lovely day overall. The perfect beginning for a journey. Merry and Pippin nudged their ponies to ride alongside Eowyn for a time as Merry inquired on the well-being of his friends in Rohan. Though residing in the Shire, he and Peregrin had kept strong their ties to the countries they had pledged service to. Legolas smiled and laughed with the whole of his heart at a witty remark from the dwarf concerning Eldarion. These were fine times and good friends, to be treasured and remembered forever. The elf looked in their newest friend's direction in time to see Eldarion resume his place in the lead, leaving the maiden shaking her head the slightest. Exasperated, no doubt. Legolas knew Eldarion was an accomplished charmer among human ladies. Among elven women, his flowery words and favors were bound to get tiresome. He looked back to Gimli, realizing he had missed half of what the dwarf was saying. Something about the quality of Old Toby, the Shire's finest pipeweed. The mere thought of all of them smoking themselves silly around a cheery fire made him grin enough to give Gimli reason to believe he was quite interested in the conversation. He seemed a little surprised when Legolas excused himself to click at his stallion and veer to ride beside Alatáriël. Gimli only grinned and reserved any remarks for later. The lady looked a bit lonesome anyway. "It seems as though you are set free for a time, my lady!" Legolas greeted her, smiling in friendship rather than the cunning slyness of a bachelor. "It is well that you were chosen to accompany us on this long journey." He made no mention of how or why she was chosen, nor did he plan to.



Alatáriël: Vanya nickered in welcome and Ren came out of her thoughts to see the Mirkwood prince riding towards her and a genuine smile that brightened her entire countenance. “Yes, Your Highness,” she replied, wondering why she sounded so breathless suddenly. A peal of laughter escaped her throat; she couldn’t have held it in for all the wealth of the Valar. Turning back to him, she continued, “I have to say I’ve never been this excited in all my years! Although I can’t understand why I was chosen, I thank the Valar and King Elessar nonetheless. As well as the Lady Eowyn. She has been a veritable fount of knowledge and experience. I am deeply in her debt,” she said quietly, a soft flush creeping her throat and cheeks. But her smile returned upon him again and she asked warmly, “And how do you and your friend fare this lovely morning, my lord? Well, I trust…?”



Legolas : Shadowstar returned Vanya's greeting, ever interested in the lovely mare. His rider reflected a little of Alatáriël’s glow, trusting his horse to keep the easy path as he kept his gaze on his new friend, as he would all her now. "We fare well, and more than that on a day like today." He chuckled softly, "Parties and celebrations are wonderful, but the scent of the open air ever calls to us, inviting us to feel the wind's caress in our hair," he glanced back to Gimli, plodding along on Pelekko, "Or beard, in some cases. Lady, I would that you would call me a friend on this journey, and by my name as friends do. That is, if it is well with you that I call you my friend..." He looked at her, his eyes seeking permission and his smile perhaps a little unsure.



Alatáriël: Ren closed her eyes at his words and breathed the deep warm scents of morning, relishing the tiny fingers of wind in her own hair, teasing the burnished locks and tossing them playfully. To his latter request, she opened jade eyes and looked at him, the sun bright on her cheek. A moment passed before she answered. “…a friend, my lo- Legolas,” she said hesitantly. “Yes,” she replied shyly, modestly lowering her lashes a bit then returning his gaze. “I would be most pleased to call you so. And likewise, I’m hopeful…”



Legolas : The smile that had been on his face seemed a dim shadow when compared to the glow that lit his countenance at her consent. The intense blue of his eyes sparkled as strands of his pale blond hair escaped the collar of his cloak to float behind him on the breeze that ruffled her own wavy locks. "By what name do your friends call you?" he inquired, knowing that elves with multiple names as she had could go by either, or shortened versions of one or both. He was not about to share some of the nicknames given him by Gimli, as they did not count in his own opinion.



Alatáriël: Ren gently corrected Vanya as the mare playfully nipped at the prince’s stallion, then answered, “At home, the short version of my name is Ren. It was the pet name my father had for my mother,” she recalled with a wistful smile. “Although it depends on what mood my father happens to be in, what name he uses. But my mother always used it.” Yet a shapely brow lifted in the dwarf’s direction. “Are dwarves so imaginative in all their labels or are the elves just a specialty of his?” She chuckled, she and Eowyn having heard a few of them the previous day as the companions readied themselves for the journey. “I’d long thought most dwarves uneasy out from beneath the hills and mountains. Lord Gimli’s truly rare.” Her brow furrowed. “Crusty, yet sturdy. A solid stone that prickles.” She giggled at the thought.



Legolas : The prince laughed freely, his fair skin showing a hint of rose as he looked toward Eowyn, then the dwarf. Ah, so she had noticed. "That he is, Ren." He liked the name, it fit her well and held the sort of mild intimacy a good nickname should. "Gimli is as different to other dwarves as I am to other elves... as I'm sure you are as well. That is perhaps the best thing about adventure. It brings together those of like courage and heart, forging between them friendships closer than the ties of blood. I trust you will know this as well as any here, come the end of our journey." He met her eyes again, "If you find your are left wondering in any matter, or in need of assistance in any kind, ask of me. I will do what I am able, and without advance." He looked pointedly to Eldarion, one brow raised slightly. Aragorn hadn't been jesting about his son, and was likely very relieved at having him away for a time.



Alatáriël: Ren had to quietly join in his laughter, relishing the sound. By whatever fates had arranged her involvement on this journey, she was unendingly grateful it had been given her. “Oh,” she amended with a soft shrug, “I am not so different, at least not in the sense you mean. A typical elven child, brought up beneath the boughs of Lorien, studious and respectful. I suppose the only thing my family and I do not share is the feeling that there is more to life than remaining within the protective circle of mallorn trees. Amongst my friends, I was ridiculed for even speculating thus. And my father would hear none of it,” she said with a slight frown. Looking back at him, she said earnestly, “But you know the difference. There are great people of other races that have courage and goodness equal to even the highest children of the Valar! You are bonded with not a few! Trials, tribulations, circumstances; these are things that all share along a journey, molding one’s character and teaching individual strength, bound by a common cause.” She sounded terribly wistful. A soft sigh, then she tuned to his latter words. The meaning sank in and she flushed, lowering her head, unbound strands falling to hide her pinked cheeks. “…it is strange,” she admitted softly, feeling terribly young. “At home, among our people, I am not openly gazed upon with such…wonder. The prince is charming, but I doubt his intentions are as true as he thinks. All have said he is a good man, worthy of his father’s title. But so young and impulsive.” And still a man, her inner voice spoke quietly. She looked back at the elven prince shyly, through thick lashes, “It would not trouble you? Should anything unforeseen come to pass?”



Legolas : He inclined his head a little, giving her a smile and a look of truest sincerity, "Nay, it would be no trouble." It was the truth. He would gladly be of help to her in whatever manner was in his power. He would do the same for any friend, new or old. He felt a little awkward at her confession of how she was being admired. He had garnered his share of stares and soft giggles as well, though thankfully most females were far too shy to approach him... well, all but a few. Gilraen came to mind instantly, tossing her hair in a flirtatious gesture in his mind's eye. Among elves, his status as his father's son and one of the Fellowship gained him the most attention when he was among his own kind. He felt he knew more of how she felt than she realized, and that she gave herself too little credit. Perhaps it was that elves, looking ever to the sea and their long future, tended to overlook the treasures among them. Certainly they didn't count many of the ones outside their own closely-guarded world. Unable to leave her former words without comment, he spoke quietly, looking forward to their road again, "As for the difference between you and your family, the one counts for as much as many. In the world around you, you see wonder and excitement. In the people whom you do not understand, you seek understanding and knowledge. You would learn from those who are not your elder in years, but in experience. I feel that you are very like I was, and in years and adventures to come, I pray you will come to a far greater understanding of the world than most. It is sad that your family wishes not to share it." Then he chuckled, "And regarding the affections and attention you gain among men and other races, I fear you will have to get used to it quickly. I think it would be best if you honed your skills in parrying such advances... for your courteous ways may be taken as interest." He gave her a smirk, raising one brow a wry look.



Alatáriël: Ren blinked back at him, not quite understanding. “…interest?” she replied, a blank expression smoothing her brow. “Surely you jest, Legolas. I am far too young to even have notions of marriage and family.” She looked between Vanya’s ears, a hint of annoyance shadowing her face. “And my father wouldn’t hear of such a proposition from anyone beneath my station,” she said a bit sourly. “No matter my choice.” A soft sigh escaped her and she shrugged off the thought. A mild frown creased her lips as she said slowly, “I do not wish to garner undue attention. Quite the opposite. All I wish is freedom to simply be as I am, not my father’s daughter. Just Alatáriël, as I am. I see no gain in the fortunes of disgruntlement between the races, for are we all not children of the Valar? Blessed with gifts that make us unique and well suited to our various tasks and residence. Dominion of one another can only lead to heartache and bloodshed. And ‘tis a senseless loss of life, as well. But for the other…” she paused, then said, “I do not wish anyone ill. Nor do I wish to offer false pretenses, as you’ve said. The prince is a prime example. But for the predatory gleam in his eye, I would think him serious in his affections. I do not wish to be the deer the wolf stalks, Legolas. Are you suggesting I simply remain aloof and…slightly rude?”



Legolas : He laughed, a sound quickly cut before he might offend her. She truly did not understand the ways of men and women outside her forest of mallorn trees where all were polite and protocol was strictly followed in such matters. "You are young, Ren. Yet by the standard of any other race, you are more than ready to marry. Though he is a good man, Eldarion would think little of what your father wanted. That is his way, impatient and thoughtless are many of his actions. His father hopes this journey will bring him a step closer to maturity. Should you be aloof? Nay, be yourself. Form friendships rooted in love and mutual respect. Should you be rude? Well... perhaps just a little. It is not an uncommon trait for any race, even elves. We all are different and should respect that. Yet if anyone crosses the boundaries of your comfort in the way they speak of and to you, you should let them know they have done so. Then you will not be a deer, but another wolf to be respected as an equal. Yet if you enjoy any man's attention..." He let the pause drag through the space of a few seconds. The thought made him uneasy, and he wasn't quite sure why, "Then entertain them. Your father may be opposed, but you are your own person, and I am sure one day he will come to treat you as such." The conversation for him now felt a little uncomfortable. Perhaps it was that he was unaccustomed to discussing matters of the heart, particularly with females. Yet he did worry a little for her, and wish to offer what council he could. As a friend, an elf, and a male, he hoped she would take his words to heart in a way that she may not take Eowyn's words. He had no doubt that if the two hadn't spoken of the matter, they would soon. Though women had a way of sometimes disbelieving each others advice, at least from the few incidents he had witnessed. And they were very few indeed, with regard to that subject.



Alatáriël: He had indeed given her much to think about. So lost in thought was she that she didn’t answer, merely stared between the mare’s ears, eyes fixed unseeing on some point far ahead of their group. Eowyn had indeed informed the tender young elf of such matters, but the conversation had brought such a flame to Ren’s cheeks that the Lady had chuckled and simply let the subject fade away. She would learn, in due time. How was it the elven prince knew her very heart? What she longed for? Because, like her, he didn’t see the world as most elves did. It was a wide and wonderful place, not forbidding and dangerous. Although there were dangers, one simply had to be prepared for such. Still lost in her musings, she blinked with a start to realize Eomer was calling a brief halt to rest the horses. The sun’s position revealed midday; they’d been riding all morning. Ren slid from her saddle easily, smiling as Vanya butted her head against her mistress. Obligingly rubbing beneath the mare’s headstall, Ren watched with a mirth filled grin as the dwarf was nearly bowled over by his little pony, who’d taken the liberty of stepping on his master’s foot as Gimli dismounted. Shaking her head, she chuckled and handed the mare’s reins to a Rohirrim and slowly moved away from the column, gazing out over the plains of Anorien. If she recalled her map correctly, they’d reach the Druadan Forest by nightfall. The wind moved through the grasses as if restless, fluttering her riding skirts about her as she stared at the landscape. So wide and open, nothing at all resembling the woods of Lorien.



Legolas : Seeing after a moment that she was lost within her own mind, Legolas allowed Shadowstar to drift back to trot alongside Gimli's rascal of a pony. "I do hope ye'll invite me to the wedding," the dwarf greeted with a grin that was half hidden under the abundance of his red beard. Legolas only gave him a chastising look and said in matter of fact, "If ever I have a wedding, which I have no plans for, you would come only for the ale and to shout lewd remarks to me all the while! To put your busy mind at ease, I was simply offering her a little advice regarding Gondor's young Prince." As Eomer called for a halt, Gimli huffed and slowed his mount with a little too much tugging for the pony's taste, "Aye, she'll do well to watch that young charmer. If he does anything like what I know he's thinking, I'll have to end Aragorn's chances of gaining a wee grandchild from that one..." The dwarf, Legolas knew, was only half-joking. It was entirely possible for him to hurt Eldarion along the way should he misbehave, though the elf winced at the thought of his castrating the poor boy. He almost laughed, just the same. "I don't think he would go so far. At least I hope not. Ren has better sense than to allow for too much, though." He did laugh when the dwarf dismounted only to be bullied by Pelekko. He muttered and lightly swatted at it for a while as the short stallion bit on his sleeve and made rude sorts of gestures with his mouth, lips curling and teeth showing. Giving up on the pony, Gimli turned to his friend who had dismounted with his usual grace and ease, allowing Shadowstar to nibble at the grass, "Ah! Now she's Ren? So what happened to 'Lady Alatáriël' or 'My Lady' or any form of her proper name?" The dwarf's grin had returned. The elf gave him a flat stare, "I asked her to call me by only my name, and that I could call her as her friends do at home. It is no pet name, and is much better than many names you call me by. Or that you are called by, for that matter." At this the dwarf went into a string of questions of who said what about him that only made the elven prince laugh again.



Alatáriël: The dwarf, perhaps sensing he was pushing his luck with the elf, wisely muttered to himself and let the subject be, all the easier as he turned and realized one of the hobbits had made off with his smoking pouch. Blustering in irritation, Gimli clunkered after them, the halflings hooting and ensuing all sorts of laughter from the soldiers. Ren heard the commotion behind her, of course, but she paid it no mind. Her thoughts were lost among the grasses of the plain. So wild and free, it caused a quiet bubble of laughter from her lips, which she allowed free rein. Opening her senses to the wilderness, she wasn’t at all surprised to find it accepting her willingly, as she was elven, able to feel the earth and all its glory. Standing still for a long moment, caught in nature’s embrace, the young elf came back with a breathless sigh, opening eyes full of wonder and alight with sunshine. A small smile on her lips, she turned and rejoined the group, taking the mare’s reins and stepping atop the saddle easily. A breath of freedom assailed her and, nudging Vanya with her heels, she eased the horse away from the rest, heading out off the plain towards the forest, still some miles away to the north. It was nearly intoxicating; the wind rushing past her, the horse surging beneath her, the absolute ease of everything. She’d no doubt worry them a bit, but she was taking Legolas’ words to heart, exploring as she deemed and setting out blazing her own trails. A rebellious bit of freedom, that. Ren knew far better than to get completely lost. Eomer would likely be annoyed, which wasn’t conducive to a smooth trip. Eldarion would likely bluster. But she was her father’s daughter when it came down to all. She would learn, and do what she could. She just wanted to ride the mare over Anorien for the first time alone.