Starry Sky

A/N: My test is over, and I've finally managed to write chapters 4 and 5. Thanks to everyone who has been so patient. Chapter 6 will be up by sometime next week; this story is six chapters away from being completed. I'm currently revising chapters 6-7 of In Twilight as well; those should be up by tomorrow.

/ / denotes thoughts.
~~~~~~~~~~ denotes changes in scene or POV.

Chapter 4: On the Borders
Summary: Feeling a little idle, Elrohir accompanies Rumil on what turns out to be anything but a normal patrol.

That was it; he had had enough. Nimriel’s cheeriness was just not going to work for him today. His mood was too foul for even the bright and active princess of Mirkwood to clear the cloud lingering over him. Elrohir was idle, and in need of something to do. Escorting Nimriel around Lorien was not the task he had in mind to keepy. y. He needed something to do, some excuse to get away. And, he needed it fast.

It did not help that Arondil and Celeron were spending the day with Celeborn to survey the lands, nor did it help that Elladan and Legolas had gone off to the Valar only know where. That left Elrohir stuck with Nimriel for the entire day. Unless some suitable excuse to leave the princess to her own devices presented itself before him, he had no other choice. Saying he was going to take a walk with Orophin wouldn’t help; the Galadhrim had gone off with Haldir to train some new apprentices. And, Rumil was about to go on patrol soon. Elrohir was in a tight fix, and he didn’t like it.

The idea of escorting Thranduil’s children to Lothlorien had been a wonderful thought. Arondil and his siblings were eager to visit the wood, and Elladan and Elrohir were willing to escort their friends there. It was the perfect opportunity for the twins to get away from their duties in Imladris for a few days. But, after three days of idle time, Elrohir was getting bored. He wanted to do something, anything to occupy his body, which was starting to get fidgety. Today, he had promised to escort Nimriel around the grounds. He was not looking forward to the task though he thought of the Mirkwood princess like his own sister. But, he had promised her, and Elrohir didn’t want to disappoint the she-elf.

The sound of light footsteps upon fallen leaves drew his attention. Turning, Elrohir found himself facing Nimriel as she raced up to him; behind her strolled Galadriel and a few of the Lady’s handmaidens. The Lady smiled upon seeing her grandson, to which Elrohir gave her a polite bow in return. The princess of Mirkwood skipped up to the Peredhel twin, hugging him tightly as if he had been one of her brothers.

“Forgive me, Elrohir,” the young princess said. “But, I’m afraid I will have to break off our engagement for today. Lady Galadriel has asked me to join her as she travels around the city today.” Nimriel stared up at Elrohir with apologetic eyes, a slight pout on her rosy lips. “You are not upset, I hope?”

“Nay, I am not,” he replied, laying a chaste kiss upon her brow. “I will find ways to engage myself. Please enjoy yourself today, Nimriel. There are a great deal of wonders in the city you have not yet seen. Grandmother would be a more suitable guide for you than I would be.” The princess beamed, presenting him with another tight hug and a chaste kiss to the cheek before returning to Galadriel’s side. The Lady smiled knowingly at her grandson as she led Nimriel and her maidens away.

“Thank you, grandmother,” Elrohir whispered before rushing off to ready himself. If he was quick enough, he would just be able to catch Rumil before the Galadhrim left on patrol. Perhaps today wouldn’t be so boring after all. Some steps away, Galadriel smiled as her grandson nearly ran off. Nimriel giggled at her side.

“I suppose he was rather enthusiastic about your engagement for the day being broken,” the Lady commented as she began to stroll off in the opposite direction. Nimriel fell into step beside her, as Galadriel’s handmaidens trailed behind them, talking amongst themselves.

“I felt awful that Elrohir was stuck escorting me around the city today,” the princess commented. “My brothers all went off today, so that only left Elrohir for the task. I would have enjoyed his company, but I know he would not have enjoyed mine.”

“It was a kind thing for you to release him, Nimriel. Elrohir will be very grateful towards you later. He will be much happier patrolling the borders than wandering the city.”

“I know, my lady. Which is why I had to come up with some excuse to let him go.” A moment’s pause passed between them before Nimriel spoke again. “Do you think Elrohir will tell him today?” Galadriel smiled; so, she had not been the only one in assessing Elrohir’s present emotional state. Even in the short amount of time she had been acquainted with the twins, Nimriel had developed a keen understanding of how Elladan and Elrohir dealt with their emotions differently. Galadriel accounted it to the fact that Nimriel was the youngest of four children, and the only female.

“Let us hope he will, child. But, Elrohir still has some conflicting emotions he must work out for himself. He must sort out his own feelings before he will be able to speak with Orophin.” Nimriel nodded.

“I hope he finds the courage to speak of his heart soon.”

“He will, child. He will.” The two she-elves smiled at one another before continuing on their walk as they entered the heart of Caras Galadon. Silently, Nimriel wished Elrohir luck before striking up an animated conversation with the Lady of Lorien.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Rumil!” Upon hearing his name called, the flaxen-haired patrol guard ceased his preparations and looked up. Running deftly through the trees came Elrohir, knives strapped to his legs, bow and quiver slung over his shoulder. He wore the garments of the Galadhrim, gray cloak draped over his shoulders and over a gray-green tunic and leggings. The Peredhel twin looked as if he were ready for a hunting excursion.

“And, where are you off to this fine morning, meldir?” Rumil asked, shouldering his own bow as Elrohir stepped up to him.

“With you, of course.” The Galadhrim threw him an incredulous look. “I’m bored, all right? I love Lorien, I love the company of Arondil and his siblings, but I’m bored! I’ve done nothing but wander Caras Galadon for three days now. Only the Valar know why I haven‘t gone insane with all this idleness.”

“There are other…nightly activities you’ve been engaging in. With a bit of enthusiasm if I am not mistaken.”

“Rumil!” The guardian grinned as Elrohir blushed furiously. “Anyway,” the twin continued, fighting desperately to contain his embarrassment, “I thought I would join you on your rounds today.”

“As you wish. But, I must warn you. Nothing exciting has been happening lately. I’m afraid you’ll just be even more bored than you are now.”

“I will risk it. Anything is better than sitting around with nothing to do. At least going on patrol rounds will keep my senses alert.”

“If you say so. Let us be off then. We aren‘t due back until mid-evening.” With bows in hand, the pair set off through the woods, the early afternoon sun shining down upon them. For a time they walked in silence, eyes and ears ever alert for sounds unfamiliar, or unfriendly. They kept their attentions focused on the areas around them, waving now and then to a Galadhrim they spotted in the shadows. Stealthily they moved, the Peredhel mimicking the cat-like grace of his Lorien counterpart; indeed, Elrohir and his twin had spent enough time with the Galadhrim to sometimes be mistaken as a member of the patrol.

“Rumil?” Elrohir said in a near whisper, breaking the silence around them.

“Hm?”

“Tell me something. What’s Orophin like?” He flinched slightly as Rumil arched an eyebrow. “I meant, is he any different when…”

“When you’re not here?” Elrohir nodded. “That’s an odd question to be asking, especially since you’ve known him for so long. I mean, you two were friends even before I was born. What would possibly make you believe my brother is any different when you aren’t here?”

“I don’t know. Just something I’ve been wondering about, I guess.” Rumil looked thoughtfully at his friend for a moment. Clearly Elrohir was disturbed by something, but Rumil didn’t know the twin well enough to be able to deduce what it was. He had always believed his eldest brother and Elrond’s youngest son were as close as friends could possibly be, without crossing into the borders of love. But, of course, the two had changed their relationship some years ago. Rumil couldn’t say how they had changed, or what had caused it. He had merely observed that something hadsed sed between them one day and altered how they viewed one another.

“Elrohir?”

“Yes?”

“Now it’s my turn to ask you something.” The dark-haired elf turned, tilting his head slightly in anticipation of the question. “How do *you* think Orophin feels about you?”

“Well…I…” The question had completely thrown Elrohir off-guard. He stopped walking as he contemplated the question. Such an idea had never occurred to him before, not even once. Elrohir had been wrapped up in trying to untangle the mess of his own emotions that he had completely failed to think about how Orophin felt about him. “I don’t know really. He’s always been there to help when I needed it. He offers his services, and himself, before I even have a chance to ask anything of him. I always thought it was because we were such close friends.”

“You never thought he might be in love with you?”

“Well…at one point, yes. But, Orophin hawaysways been the type of person to offer someone help no matter what it was they asked of him.” Rumil wrinkled his nose in slight bemusement.

“Then, I’d say you are calling in some rather…unusual favors, mellon-nîn.” Elrohir fell silent, understanding the truth behind Rumil’s words. The guardian, in turn, used the silence to observe the mixture of emotions that crossed the twin’s face. Elrohir was clearly confused about his own feelings, but knowing that Orophin might be in love with him was putting the twin’s own emotions into a whole new perspective. “You never once thought he might love you?”

“No, not really…you really think he could?” Rumil sighed. It really wasn’t his place to have this conversation with Elrohir. But, he had been the one to bring it up. So, there was no choice but to plunge headlong ,and hope he didn’t rift apart Orophin’s chances at being with the twin.

“I do think he is in love with you, Elrohir,” Rumil explained gently. “Over the years yave ave been friends, he’s taken few lovers. And, he’s always admired you greatly. Orophin’s always very enthusiastic when he finds out you will be visiting, or that he will be sent to Imladris. Whenever you’re around, he’s unusually cheery, and talks a little more than normal.” He paused for a moment, allowing Elrohir to take it all in. “Something tells me, though, that you are unsure of yourself.”

“Aye, I am.” He couldn’t help the slight slumping of his shoulders as Elrohilt alt a little defeated. “I’m just confused, Rumil. “There’s something there, something I feel for Orophin. I’m afraid to say it’s love when it might not be. I’m afraid that if I call it love, and it’s not, something horrible will happen.”

“Risks, meldir. It’s a risk. And, if I were you, I’d take it. It could be your only chance.” His head snapped up; Rumil’s words were echoing Galadriel’s earlier lesson to Elrohir. They had both, in their own ways, told him to take the risk, seize the moment. He began to pick listlessly at a string on his cloak as he contemplated the course of action he should take.

/Perhaps I should. I might lose more if I keep silent and go on as is./

“Rumil, I…” Elrohir’s words were cut off by the snap of a branch beneath a heavy footstep. The elves instantly armed themselves, bows drawn with arrows at the ready. They caught wind of the men before the group of half-dozen surrounded them. The men were of a rugged stock, their clothes patchy and dirty, the hairs on their face and heads bristly. Compared to the men of the Rohan and Gondor, these men were of a less mannered stock, their ways rough. Even the rugged Dunedain possessed more refinement than this group.

“Well well, we track a deer and look at what we’ve caught,” one man said in Won won with a gruff voice. His dark eyes roamed over the elves’ lean forms; the simple act caused the two of them to take an even more defensive guard.

“They’re from Rohan,” Elrohir whispered to Rumil in elvish, reading the accent in the man’s speech. “Or were. Possibly of the race that was cast out when the horsrds rds settled into the lands.”

“Aren’t they a little far from their settlements then?” the Galadhrim answered. “And, what are they doing in the Wood anyway? Most men would not dare to enter, much less hunt here.”

“Doubtless they do not realize where they have entered. Or, they are letting their stomachs control their minds.”

“I don’t understand a word they are saying,” another man said to the first. “Maybe we shouldn’t touch them. They could be casting a spell or something.”

“What are they anyways?” a third man asked. “They ain’t no men, too pretty. And look at them ears.”

“Whatever they are,” the first man answered, “we could sure use ‘em as slaves or something.” Though he didn’t understand a word they were saying, Rumil did not like the tone of the men’s voices, or the way they were eyeing the elves.

The next moment found Elrohir and Rumil fighting off the men. Two fell swiftly to the accuracy of the elves’ bows; another two fell as Elrohir drew a knife from its scabbard. He took down another man before he realized that there were more emerging from behind trees. In the heat of the fight, more men had snuck up on the elves without theirs senses alerting them. There came a crashing sound, followed by a soft thud. Elrohir’s eyes widened as he watched a man approach Rumil from behind while the guardian was engaged with another. A moment later the elf fell from a blow to the head, hard enough to knock him out but not do any physical damage.

“Rumil!” With a flick of his wrist, Elrohir rip himself of his opponent, turning to help the fallen Galadhrim. A blunt, hard object struck him from behind. The blow sent stars into his eyes, his legs crumpling from underneath him. Losing his balance, Elrohir came crashing to the ground, losing his hold on his knife. The weapon went flying somewhere unseen as the men surrounded him, blackness creeping into his vision. The last Elrohir saw were the men standing over him, sneering down at the elf. The last thoughts that came to him before the darkness claimed him was of Orophin. And, then he saw and knew no more.

Translations:
Meldir-Friend
Mellon-nîn-My friend