Betrothal To An Elf 17

Betrothal To An Elf

Part 17

Posted: August 31, 2007
Title: Betrothal To An Elf
Author: Inwë Sáralondë

Summary: Lothvaen decides.

*****

“Why can I not have what you have?” Lothvaen’s question tore at Lindir.

Trying to buy himself some time, the minstrel continued to pack away his harp and flute, wanting to find the right words so as not to upset his friend further. Only when he had packed away his music as well did he turn to face Lothvaen. “Sometimes,” he began slowly, “one thinks one has found what seems right for them, only to find that, in reality, it is not.”

“But you have found it in Legolas.”

Lindir knew he could not lie. “Yes, I truly believe I have. But that does not mean that you can not as well. It is just not with Elrohir.”

“It was such a beautiful dream, Lindir,” Lothvaen said wistfully. “I thought I had truly found one who would indulge my fantasies. Now, it is a nightmare; one that I so desperately want to wake up from.”

“Could you not have compromised?” Lindir asked.

Lothvaen shook his head. “What point is there in compromise when Elrohir does not love me?”

The minstrel found he could not answer that, but said, “Nevertheless, he should not have said what he did.”

“He did not mean to hurt me, meldir. Do not forget I said some hurtful things to him as well.”

Lindir sighed. “Admittedly, your accusations were baseless, Lothvaen. I confess even I am a little perplexed as to why you accused Elrohir of sleeping with Saelbeth. You are lucky that both he and Silinde accepted your apology after they found out. You should, at least, apologise to Elrohir as well, if nothing else.”

“I know. But it will not be easy to face him again. I feel such a fool!”

“You are no fool, Lothvaen. You believed yourself in love. Mayhap it was just desire on your part as much as it was his. There is one out there who is truly the other half of your fëa.”

“Do you think so?”

Lindir smiled. “Yes, I do.”

“I suppose I should go and apologise to him.” Lothvaen rose from his chair before looking at his friend. “And will you at least promise me that you will no longer glare daggers at him the next time you see him?”

The minstrel flushed slightly. “I can not help it. Whether he did it intentionally or no, he hurt you, and I do not like it when my friends are hurt. But I will promise to at least *try*.”

Lothvaen smiled briefly. “Hannon le.”

The scribe watched as his friend continued to tidy things away. “Will you sing tonight?” he asked suddenly.

Lindir stopped and frowned slightly. “No, not tonight. I had only planned to play my harp. However, if you wish for me to sing, I will. Why do you ask?”

Lothvaen shrugged slightly. “No reason, except that I know Legolas loves to hear you sing.”

“I do sing for him in private, Lothvaen.”

“Really? And what ‘songs’ would those be?” Lothvaen’s tone was mischievous, yet it still took a moment for Lindir to work out what the scribe was inferring.

“Lothvaen!” The minstrel blushed furiously. “I shall not deign to dignify that question with an answer,” he said, a little miffed at his friend’s audacity.

The scribe laughed. “You are as red as a tomato, meldir! If that does not tell me, nothing will.” Lothvaen continued to chortle, oblivious to the black look Lindir was giving him.

“Forgive me,” the scribe finally said as his laughter died down. “I should not have teased you like that. But it is rare that I can. Normally you are immune to such things.”

Lindir sighed and decided against saying anything further on that subject. Instead, he asked, “Were you not going to apologise to Elrohir?”

Lothvaen’s mien sobered. “Aye. Will you come with me? At least that way he can see that you are no longer annoyed with him.”

The minstrel sighed once more. “Very well,” he conceded. “Let us do this now, then it is done.”

*****

Elvish translations:

fëa – spirit
hannon le – thank you
meldir – friend

*****

previous | Chapter Index | next

If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to: Inwë Sáralondë