Part Seven
Rúmil was in a bad mood, unusual for him. He was out on his border patrol with several
others of the Galadhrim, but not Orophin, and not Haldir. Haldir often took an opposite
march from his brothers, so this was not terribly unusual, but Rúmil almost never went
without Orophin. In fact, he hated going without Oro. He felt like he could not
concentrate on his duties unless he knew his brother was near.
It irked him even more that Orophin had chosen to stay behind with Amroth -- and
Galadriel had excused him from his duties and permitted this! It was unthinkable. Rúmil
knew that Haldir liked it even less, because he was concerned about the amount of time
Orophin was spending with Amroth.
Rúmil knew that Orophin was falling in love with the lost king. He had seen it happen to
Orophin before, and knew it was a rare event. Oro usually kept his heart to himself. Rúmil
was a lot more prone to such, though he generally recovered far more quickly than
Orophin. Which, he reflected, was why half the maids of Lórien and several members of
the Galadhrim besides would no longer speak to him.
Rúmil knew as well as Haldir did that this was bound to be a disaster. Of all the elves in
Arda, Orophin had to develop an attachment for a king who was meant to be dead and was
famous for loving someone else, to boot. It was not that Rúmil did not like Amroth. In
fact, he had found Amroth’s tales of Lórien of old to be fascinating. He had a strong, clear
voice, and as his memories returned bit by bit over the previous week, he had been only
too glad to share a cup of wine and speak of his time as ruler of the Golden Wood.
The only subject that seemed taboo was the most famous, that of Nimrodel. This
bewildered Rúmil more than anything. Everybody knew about it. Why did Haldir glare at
him when he had asked? Amroth had simply shaken his head, refusing to speak of her.
Orophin’s preoccupation with Amroth left him less and less time to hunt in the wood or
swim and play with Rúmil, and this bothered him as well. He knew he was pouting, and
that he should leave Orophin to follow this path on his own, but weaseling out of his
patrol had been the last straw!
Rúmil was not the only one in a bad mood lately, he reflected as he stood still, his eyes
scanning the horizon at the edge of the wood. Celeborn had been even icier than usual.
Rúmil had done his best to keep out of his way. Rúmil wondered if he was worried about
Amroth taking over. In Rúmil’s opinion, Amroth did not seem vaguely interested in ruling
Lórien again. He simply wanted to hang around drinking with Oro all night. Rúmil
frowned.
Galadriel had decided to honor their guest with a banquet, which would take place in two
night’s time. Rúmil was not looking forward to that. It would be one more night of
watching Oro make eyes at Amroth, watching Haldir glare at the two of them, and
watching Celeborn glare at everybody. Generally Rúmil loved banquets. Galadriel hosted
them perhaps once a century. Too bad he did not live in Imladris, Rúmil reflected. It was
said that Lord Elrond had parties and gatherings nearly once a week. He was open to
travelers and visitors of all types and races. Lothlórien welcomed only elvenkind.
Ahead on the edge of the clearing, Rúmil saw a party of elves making their way towards
the wood. He stepped forward, motioning to the rest of his patrol, but they saw at once
the flag of Imladris and did not draw their weapons. Imagine Elrond and he appears,
Rúmil thought, grinning. At least Orophin’s absence came in handy today. With him gone,
Rúmil was the senior member of the patrol and had the duty and honor of greeting the
party from Imladris.
Elrond stepped forward and greeted Rúmil, inclining his head with a measure of respect
that Rúmil rarely was offered. It was good to be in charge.
“My Lord Elrond,” Rúmil said, “I trust you are arriving for Lady Galadriel’s banquet.”
Elrond frowned, unsettling Rúmil. “I was not aware that she was holding a banquet,”
Elrond said. “Other news has brought me to Lothlórien. I have come to see for myself if
the rumors are true, and that Amroth truly has returned.”
“Your journey has not been in vain,” Rúmil assured him.
“He is here, then.”
“Yes.”
“Then I have much to discuss with Galadriel,” Elrond sighed.
Rúmil turned his eyes to the other members of Elrond’s party, hoping to see his friends
Elrohir and Elladan, the twin sons of Elrond, but they had not accompanied their father. It
was a small group consisting of five guards, Elrond’s advisor Erestor, and a cloaked
female elf. No, Rúmil thought, not her. His mood went from bad to worse.
She took back her hood and smiled at him. Arwen Undómiel, daughter of Elrond,
Evenstar of her people, and one of the biggest troublemakers in Arda. Whenever Rúmil
was in Imladris, she managed to get him into more trouble than he might ever find on his
own -- and that was saying quite a lot. His only hope of escape was that Haldir show
interest in her. She seemed to like him for some reason.
Arwen was beautiful, there was no denying that. She grew more beautiful each time he
saw her. It did not make him enjoy her company any more, however. Her long, dark hair
fell in a waterfall of night over her slender shoulders. Her gown was of a royal purple and
tailored to accentuate her fine, slender figure. Oh, he was going to ask Galadriel to assign
him a double patrol. If he was at the border, he was far enough away from Caras
Galadhon for Arwen to torment him.
Rúmil recovered himself and greeted her properly. She returned his greeting and smiled at
him, but the smile seemed wicked to Rúmil. Elrond cleared his throat, and Rúmil realized
that he had been staring and he better get himself together or he would never be left in
charge of the patrol again.
“I shall take you to Caras Galadhon,” he said respectfully to Elrond, who merely nodded
and followed Rúmil as he led the way through the wood.
Galadriel was waiting for them as they entered the platform of the receiving chamber in
her talan, into which only Elrond, Arwen and Erestor accompanied Rúmil. He opened his
mouth to announce them but Galadriel spoke before he could get out the words.
“I knew you would come, Elrond,” she said, her voice resonating with calm. She turned to
Arwen with far more pleasure in his tone. “But you have pleased me well, bringing me my
granddaughter. Too long has it been since I have looked upon her.”
Galadriel moved forward and kissed Arwen on both cheeks. Arwen beamed at her,
reveling in the attention, no doubt, Rúmil thought as the two female elves embraced.
Elrond looked as impatient as Rúmil felt.
“Why did you not send word that Amroth was here?” he demanded.
“You know why.”
“Surely you knew that the information would come to me eventually.”
“And it did, more quickly than I might have hoped,” Galadriel said, turning to face the
Lord of Imladris. “Yet that is neither here nor there. You have come, and you are
welcome as always. In two nights time you shall be guests of honor at my banquet. I
imagine that the Mirkwood party is not far behind. We attend them.”
“Thranduil is coming?”
“He could be swayed no more than you could. I only hope he does not bring with him an
impossibly large retinue.”
“And your...other guest, Galadriel?” Elrond asked.
“It would be for the best if you stayed away from Amroth. You and I both know why.”
Rúmil had no idea why, and he wanted desperately to ask, but he knew better. He glanced
at Arwen, who was starting to look bored as her father and grandmother discussed the lost
king. Rúmil wondered if she knew anything, and if she might tell him. The price of getting
information from her might be high...
“I have not come to cause trouble. I come from allegiance to you,” Elrond said.
“I believe that you mean this, Elrond,” Galadriel replied in a light tone. “Yet all the same,
do as I ask.”
“I wish to meet him,” Elrond insisted.
“Very well, we shall see,” Galadriel said. Her voice softened as she stepped nearer him.
“He is no threat to you, Elrond. He never was.”
Elrond lifted his chin slightly. “Forgive me.”
Galadriel nodded. “Rúmil, please escort Erestor and Arwen to the best guest talans so
they may relax after their long journey, and see to it that they have whatever they desire to
refresh themselves. I would speak with Lord Elrond alone.”
“As you wish,” said Rúmil, using all of his concentration not to show Galadriel how he felt
about the task. He offered Arwen his arm, and she took it, not looking any happier than he
did about it. Once outside, Erestor told them he could find his own way and disappeared.
Rúmil fervently wished that Arwen would do the same, but she did not.
“Tell me, Rúmil, is your brother well?” she asked as they strolled towards the trees
reserved for guests. Rúmil tried to walk quickly, but Arwen clung to his arm, forcing him
to keep a sedate pace.
“Orophin is fine,” Rúmil said, purposefully misunderstanding.
She pinched his arm. He tried to snatch it away from her but she held tight. He scowled at
her.
“I meant Haldir.”
“He is fine, too. Please, lady, do not bruise me.”
“I was not aware that Galadhrim warriors bruised so easily,” Arwen said, pinching him
again.
Rúmil hissed at her. “Gladly would I commend you into Haldir’s company if I knew where
he was.”
“I am right here.”
His brother’s voice came from behind, making Rúmil jump. Arwen laughed with delight
and spun him around. Haldir bowed gracefully to her and she curtsied in return -- far too
grand of a gesture for a princess to make even to the Marchwarden, Rúmil thought
petulantly. At least she finally let go of his arm.
“The fairest star of evening returns at last to Lothlórien. It is my honor and pleasure to see
you again, Lady Arwen. I trust Rúmil has not offended you too deeply.”
Arwen’s cheeks grew rosy with Haldir’s flattery. “He has not been any worse than I
expected,” she said airily.
“You set the wildflowers of the Lórien wood to shame with your fairness. Surely, they
weep in envy.”
“Haldir, you have a golden tongue. It seems made for my ear.”
Rúmil shuddered at the image her words produced in his mind. Luckily, Haldir changed
the subject.
“Why are you not at your duties, Rúmil? Is this not your patrol?” Haldir said, raising an
eyebrow.
“I was escorting Lady Arwen to the guest talan, as Lady Galadriel asked me to,” Rúmil
said, making a fist. “However, if you would like to take over this task, I would be
delighted to return to my patrol.”
“Nothing would give me more joy than your company,” Haldir said to Arwen, “Yet I
would not dare set aside the commands of the Lady of Light.”
“I understand,” Arwen sighed. “I suppose I can suffer the company of Rúmil for the time
being, if you promise to come and spend some time with me later.”
“If I were to make such a promise, I would never break it,” Haldir said. “Until then.”
He smiled slyly at Rúmil and then hurried away. Rúmil knew Haldir desired Arwen’s
company even less than he did, himself, and he saw through the slippery words even if
they left Arwen beaming. He took her arm again and started tugging her in the direction of
where she would be staying.
“Am I so unpleasant, Rúmil, that you are so desperately eager to be rid of me?” she
complained. “Really, you need not haul me along so roughly.”
Rúmil bit his lip, not daring to answer as he truly wished to. “It is not far to the talan.”
Arwen stopped, digging her heels into the ground and forcing him to do the same. He let
go of her arm and looked at her expectantly.
“I know well where my grandmother’s guest talan is,” Arwen said with exasperation. “I
have been here many times, this you know. What is it about me that you find so
loathsome?”
“I don’t--”
“Do not lie to me!”
“Arwen--”
“Am I ugly?”
“Of course not. You are beautiful. However--”
“Truly, Rúmil?”
“Truly, what?”
“Do you truly find me beautiful, or are you merely spouting a geyser of compliments the
way Haldir does?”
Rúmil stared at her with wide eyes. She was more perceptive than he had given her credit
for. “I fear I will never be able to spout as freely as my brother,” he said. "Yes, you are truly beautiful."
Arwen threw her head back and laughed, then flung her arms around Rúmil’s neck, kissing
him full on the mouth.
