To Rescue An Elf 4

To Rescue An Elf

Part 4

Posted: January 4, 2008
Title: To Rescue an Elf
Author: Inwë Sáralondë

Summary: Celeborn puts forward a proposition to Lothvaen.

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The next morning found Lothvaen making his way to Celeborn in one of his newly shortened robes. He had to admit that it was so much easier now that he did not have to worry so much about tripping over them, and knew that he should have it done a long time ago.

“Maer aur, híren,” Lothvaen said formally as he stepped inside Celeborn’s study.

Celeborn looked up briefly. “Maer aur, Lothvaen.” His gaze travelled down, and his eyebrows rose slightly as he took in the shorter robe. “I see you managed to visit the seamstress after all.”

“Híren?”

Celeborn’s lips twitched. “I was fully prepared for you to have forgotten getting your robes shortened, seeing that a certain Marchwarden returned from the borders yesterday. I have no doubt that your mind may have been on…other things,” he clarified, and watched in amusement as the scribe’s face flushed.

“Aye, híren,” Lothvaen said, feeling a little mortified. “Haldir did return, but I made sure that I brought at least some of my robes to the seamstress to shorten before…ummm…”

“Indeed,” Celeborn said dryly, giving up trying to hide his smile. “I must inform you, however, that Haldir will need to return to the borders within the next few days, so I suggest you make full use of your time together.”

Lothvaen’s eyes widened. “So soon?” he asked, dismayed.

“The last foray into our woods by orcs has left a number of our Geledhil injured, which means we need every warrior available to man the borders against any further incursions,” Celeborn explained, his mien now sober.

Lothvaen remained silent for a moment. “I understand,” he said finally, his voice quiet. “But that does not make it easy for me, for I worry.”

Celeborn nodded. “As do I, as does the Lady Galadriel. Dark times approach, Lothvaen. The signs are there; now it is only a matter of time before things come to a head.”

The scribe swallowed. “What is going to happen, híren?”

A brief smile appeared on Celeborn’s face. “Even the Lady Galadriel is not certain, Lothvaen. But it does mean that we will need to be even more vigilant.” He sat back in his chair and contemplated the younger elf before him, his gaze assessing. “Have you ever visited any human settlements, Lothvaen?”

Startled by the sudden change in subject, Lothvaen could only shake his head.

Celeborn pursed his lips and looked at some parchments on his desk before returning his gaze to his scribe. “I have a trade agreement that will need to be delivered to a human settlement seven leagues from our realm. I would like to include you with the party that will deliver it.”

“Me?” Lothvaen squeaked, dumbfounded.

“Aye. You will be accompanying Berendirith and two Geledhil. I wish I could spare more, but Berendirith at least has some skills with a sword.” Celeborn paused for a moment, his gaze assessing. “Have you had any weapons training, Lothvaen?”

Lothvaen swallowed. “No, híren. There was never any need for me to learn.”

“I see.” Once again Celeborn paused for a moment, obviously thinking, and Lothvaen waited with trepidation. “This will need to be rectified, but it can wait until your return. I will at least ensure that you are armed with a knife. That is, of course, if you wish to go?”

“Go? Of course, híren! I am honoured that…” Lothvaen babbled excitedly.

Celeborn quickly raised his hand. “Enough, Lothvaen.” Amusement laced his voice. “I believe that Berendirith has some tasks for you in the library. I suggest you go and see him forthwith.”

“Certainly, híren! Hannon le, híren!” Lothvaen was almost dancing on the spot, a huge smile on his face until he caught the raised eyebrow of Celeborn in front of him, and he made an effort to compose himself, with little avail. “Yes, the library. Tasks. Berendirith. I shall go there directly!” Still smiling, Lothvaen fled Celeborn’s study, leaving the lord wondering if he had made the right decision.

*****

Elvish translations:

hannon le – thank you
híren – my lord
maer aur – good morning
7 leagues = 20.99 miles or 33.7801 kilometres
Berendirith is taken from the Council of Elrond website.

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