Copyright © elvenspirit9 2007- 2014 All rights reserved
Disclaimer- With the exception of my original characters, all names, people, and places belong to Tolkien Enterprise. Some original characters have names from Tolkien's works. I make no profit from these writings, they are purely for fun. So enjoy!
Acknowledgements- Thanks to Tolkien Enterprise and Peter Jackson.
For Love and Smoke
Idrial sat at the table, lost in thought. She was thinking about Legolas. He had been gone now for six months. Idrial was beginning to get used to life without him. That scared her. Their few weeks together in Lorien when the Fellowship had sheltered there had been all too brief. Several months had passed since then, and she missed him more than ever. She missed his smile, his laugh, and the way he curved his body around her when he slept. She missed his presence with her. Leaving Mirkwood five weeks after Legolas, she found comfort in her family in Lorien. Mirkwood was still constantly under violent attack, and she preferred to be away from the never ending plans for battle. The clamor of war reminded her of the frightening danger of Legolas' mission. She found escape in the innocent joy of her elfing cousins.
So lost was she in thought that she did not hear her father enter.
"Idrial, the day is fair. Outside air would do you good. I don't like seeing you moping around inside. Your little cousins are all out there, playing with a pipe they found."
Idrial ignored the obvious hint. "A pipe? Who smokes around here?"
"No one that I know. But they found one none the less."
"Wait a second." Idrial thought for a moment. "Legolas told me Gimli was complaining because he had lost his pipe in Moria, and he was unable to have a 'good smoke'." She drew her hands together in a gesture of self pride. "My guess would be he really lost it here."
"Probably. Now, you might want to go check on them."
Idrial couldn't help but smile at her father's unfaltering persistence. "You mean see if anything is left of it."
. . . . . . . . . . .
The sun gently warmed the soft grass beneath Idrial's feet. The air was cool, but not cold. A soft breeze played through the dry golden leaves. Idrial thought of Mirkwood winters, the scented pine trees covered with snow, the hard ice sky above, always tempting you to reach up and try to crack it. Although she was glad for the warmth of Lorien, she missed the crunch of snow as you walked through the majestic avenues of sparkling trees laden in frozen bloom.
She reached the clearing where the Fellowship's camp had been. There was no sound but the quiet rustle of leaves, not even the hushed giggling that would alert her to hiding elfings. In the middle of the clearing lay the pipe, the bowl broken off from the stem. Stooping down, Idrial picked up the pieces with a strange reverence. They seemed so important, sitting in the eye of everyone like they belonged there. Strong, even when broken. A twisted metaphor for Legolas and me? She thought for a moment that perhaps her father had placed them like they were, knowing Idrial always read too much into everything. Laughing, she slipped the pieces into a pouch inside her dress, heading back to the house.
Her small cousins ran to greeting her as she entered the hall.
"How did you little ones beat me home!" she cried in exaggerated surprise. They laughed and teased her that she was getting old and slow. Shaking them off onto her mother, she hurried deeper into the house. Walking across the ornately carved white wood of the main pavilion, she passed into the inner chambers and up the stairs to her loft apartment. Her parents had given her the small top floor for when she and Legolas came to visit. It was a simple abode, with a bedroom, a small sitting room with a fireplace, and a bathroom. The four poster bed looked a little large for the room. The green and gold silken bed sheets caught the sun's rays through the large arch window. Idrial placed the pipe pieces on a small table next to the bed. Feeling strangely self-conscious, she hid them behind her jewelry box. Seating herself before the cold hearth, she pulled off her boots. She loved it here, at the crown of the tree, its white boughs twisting and bending gracefully, their natural growth completely untouched by the hall which stood within it. A clambering at her door warned her of the fact she had been found seconds before several small elfings flew through the door. They all stood before the chair with formality that they found amusing to practice, and told Idrial that dinner was served.
. . . . . . . . . . .
A week had passed since Idrial had found the pipe. It still lay hidden on her bedside table, untouched. Idrial frankly had no idea what to do with it. It felt oddly wrong to throw away the broken pipe. Her cousins had left a few days before, and the house seemed suddenly so empty and quiet without their joyful laughing and constant running.
Idrial was ensconced at the breakfast table along with her father and mother. Linwe, the maid, brought them their plates, then retreated, leaving the family free to talk.
"What's on the agenda for today?" her fatherasked over the rim of his cup.
Idrial ran a hand through her golden hair. "I'm not really sure. There's not much that needs to be done."
"I'm sure there's something." Her father responded, setting his cup down with a resounding thud.
"Now now, Celeborn." Galadriel admonished mockingly. "If our daughter who is helplessly in love wants to sit about the house all day, I can make use of her."
"Yes, I know, I just want to see her out doing the things she normally does, riding, swimming, that kind of thing."
Galadriel gave Celeborn a 'shut up' look. "She's worrying, and she has a good enough reason. I know the danger of that road."
"Ok, you know, I'm fine to go out and do things." Idrial pushed back from the table.
"Oh, yes, I remember now. The border guard was asking after you. Well, Haldir specifically. You know he loves you and Legolas. They are moving one of the watch talansand wanted to see if you could help them. They're down adriver."
Idrial nodded. "Sounds great."
As she sprinted up the stairs, her mother shouted after her. "Take Beleg! You'll need him to pull the cart!"
Idrial slipped out of her nightdress, pulling her black leggings up over her hips. She shrugged into her deep red tunic. Tying her belt, she simultaneously shoved her feet into her boots. She slid down the wide banister back down to the main pavilion. She heard her parents, still talking in the kitchen.
"Well, she's out for the day. You'll have to help get a bit of straightening done around here." Her mother'svoice was teasing.
Celeborn groaned. "If it gets her up and out of the house for a while, I'll do it."
"I don't think you should worry about her 'moping'. It's natural."
"I'm not worried about the moping, I'm worried about what might come of all that thinking." He paused, catching Galadriel's eye with a meaningful look. "You know Idrial." he spoke almost slowly. "I'm worried about her following her impetuous nature."