To Travel With Wings

Silnar awaited the arrival of Galadriel with an air of supreme irritation. Her generally pleasant mood had dwindled to one of peevish impatience so that even Ingewan began to avoid her company. The first spurts of glee she had felt when she had decided to surprise Elrond had faded rather quickly into a nervous sensation that played havoc with her stomach. What would happen if Elrond refused the Lady of the Woods entrance? He wouldn't do that would he? Not to someone as important as Galadriel! Unfortunately, Elrond Peredhil could be rather unpredictable; Silnar blamed his mortal blood.

However, it was not just Galadriel's imminent arrival. Glorfindel had performed a full reverse on her. He had gone from the sulking Elda to the ever-attentive friend. Whenever she turned around, his powerful golden form was somewhere in her near vicinity. What was so terrible about it was that he had not tried anything of the romantic nature since their last confrontation. Glorfindel had been the soul of courtesy and friendship..platonic friendship..it was driving Silnar in.
.

She was not altogether ignorant of his scheming. Silnar knew that Glorfindel had some plan of attack; she just could not decipher his true intentions. If only Galadriel would arrive! Her dearest friend would know exactly what she should do. While Silnar did have a great knowledge on the neri of her race, she had only true experience with one. Maedhros was as different from Glorfindel as Arien was from Tilion, so she had no idea on how to cope with Glorfindel's new attitude toward her.

Sighing softly, Silnar leaned her head back against the cushion of her chair. She had become tired of late. According to Elrond, her recent activity the last few weeks had probably exhausted whatever strength she had. This weakness was also frustrating her. Silnar had always been active in life, this idleness was grating on her nerves, which did not help her already fragile condition.

A knock on the door startled Silnar from her thoughts. Slowly gaining her feet, Silnar moved to the door and opened it cautiously, not sure if an angry Elf-Lord was waiting on the other side.

It was no angry Elf-Lord, but Ingewan. In her hands she carried a vellum envelope with Cuivië written in a flowing script. Knowing immediately who had ten ten the letter, Silnar grabbed Ingewan and pulled her inside, slamming the door behind her and locking it.

"Where did you get this, letter, Ingewan?" Silnar asked, almost tearing it in half in an attempt to reach the contents. Ingewan calmly took the letter from Silnar and used the letter opener on her desk to slice it apart.

"A very fine bird delivered it a few minutes ago. I sent the animal to the bird house and brought this directly to you."

"You are wonderful, Ingewan, you have just averted a disaster!"

Silnar quickly scanned the words and smiled broadly. "My dearest friend is only hours away, Ingewan! I have not felt this much joy in so long!"

"We are having visitors?" Ingewan inquired carefully, realizing these visitors were unexpected. Silnar shot her a guilt-laden look.

"Yes, we are actually. The Lady Galadriel and her husband have decided it is time to renew old friendships."

"How strange the Lord Elrond knows nothing of this," Ingewan murmured, absently straightening the coverlet on Silnar's bed.

In a rare show of emotion, Silnar flung herself onto the bed. "Oh, Ingewan, what have I done? The Peredhil is going to be very angry with me! Do you think he would have the audacity to turn away Galadriel?"

Ingewan shook her head. "He will want to turn you away, but the Lord Elrond has manners yet. I am glad to not be in your place, however."

Standing quickly, Silnar rushed into her closet, dresses flying every which way. "Oh, Ingewan, you must help me prepare! Galadriel and Celeborn are on their way and I only have a few hours in which to make myself presentable!"

Calmly, Ingewan led Silnar to her vanity and set her down. "Breathe, Lady Silnar, and I shall prepare you."

Silence ruled as Ingewan brushed Silnar's copper hair. "I have never seen you so desperate to be made up, my lady."

Smiling ruefully, Silnar explained. "In the First Age I was considered to be of some importance. I was Maedhros' companion, friend to all his brothers, and moved in high circles. Galadriel is all that remains of those high circles and I wish to look as I did in Beleriand, when I was at my full strength."

"Well then, my lady, I shall certainly do my best."

Silnar could not recognize herself when Ingewan finished. She had brushed her hair until it shone like fire. Upon inspecting Silnar's jewelry box, Ingewan had found a bag of emeralds. Tenderly, Silnar had touched them, her eyes suddenly filled with deep sorrow.

"These are the very first gifts Maedhros ever bestowed upon me," she whispered, clenching her eyes shut against the memories.

Ing Ingewan knew her lady's wishes and, using the emeralds, twisted her long hair into an elaborate knot on top of her head, allowing stray strands to rest against her neck. Her ears she left unadorned and around her neck placed the heavy emerald chain that was a companion to those in her hair.

Silnar had chosen an old dress of fine green silk designed in the old style of Beleriand. Once Ingewan had helped her dress, she stepped back and could not help but curtsy. Silnar looked as an Elven Lady of old. It was almost as if she had stepped from the pages of Elrond's history books.

Soft hands caressed the folds of her dress. Breathing softly, Silnar murmured, "Oh how I miss those days, Ingewan. Every night we ladies would dress in our finest and dance in the grand halls of Melian and Thingol until dawn touched the sky. Some days I would return home to Maedhros and we would sit together, I reading, he planning his next defense. You would have loved Beleriand; there shall never be another place like it."

Ingewan gently touched Silnar's shoulder; no words were necessary. Outside, a trumpet announced the coming of riders. Blanching, Silnar squared her shoulders, ready, if needed, to do battle with the Peredhil.

Rushing as fast as she could in the cumbersome dress, Silnar raced outside, Ingewan trailing behind her. She arrived just as the riders entered Imladris. Galadriel, for all the time she had spent in the saddle, looked glorious. Her husband dismounted first and then helped her down. Although all the Eldar around her touched their hearts in acknowledgement, Galadriel had eyes only for the diminutive figure of Silnar, standing still upon the steps.

"Mae govannen, Cuivië!" Galadriel called out moving swiftly into the open arms of her dearest friend.

"Mae govannen, Galadriel!" Silnar welcomed her friend warmly, feeling very content.

"For too long you have been away from us. Elen síla lúmenn' omentielvo," she whispered quietly, in Quenya. The two had spent hours conversing in the forbidden language, attempting to keep its richness alive.

"Ná," Silnar whispered back.

Looking over Silnar's shoulder, Galadriel murmured, "Here comes our thundercloud. I am assuming he was not forewarned?"

"You assume correctly. It is good, sometimes, to keep the Peredhil on his toes."

"Worry not," a deep voice, said, "My wife shall win him over, her powers of persuasion are great indeed.

Silnar smiled warmly at the Lord Celeborn and greeted him with a hug. "Mellon, I have missed you as well."

"Our home is empty without your smile, Cuivië. When this visit is over, perhaps you can be persuaded to journey to Lothlórien? The woods shall be at their most beautiful in the coming year."

"I shall think about it, Celeborn. First, however, I believe we should deal with our thundercloud."

Elrond did look angry, as well as slightly rumpled. He had been taking a rest from the pressures of Imladris when his aide, Erestor had awoken him to the surprise presence of the Lord and Lady of Lothlórien. There was only one elf that would dare undermine his position and arrange for such a visit to happen without his permission...Silnar.

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Mae govannen-----Well met (Used in greetings.)

Elen síla lúmenn' omentielvo---- A star shines on the hour of our meeting. (This is a greeting in Quenya. During the First Age, King Thingol forbid the use of Quenya in Beleriand and all the Elves from Valinor were forced to speak Sindarin.)

Ná----Literally means: It is so. (Also Quenya.)

A/N: I am sorry it has been so long since I updated. My grandfather was recently diagnosed with lung cancer, so updates will be sporadic for a while, at least until I find time to write.