The Shadow Walker

27. Touch-and-Go

I slipped into Elrond's house unnoticed, but nearby voices kept me on my guard. I carefully made my way into his study, catching a glimpse of Lord Elrond and Gandalf through the doorway.

As I took the paper out to leave it on the desk, Elrond's voice caught my attention.

"It should have ended that day," he said. "But evil was allowed to endure."

My interest piqued, I tucked myself by the doorway and continued to listen.

In a bitter tone, Elrond said, "Isildur kept the ring. The line of kings is broken. There's no strength left in the world of men. They're scattered, divided. Leaderless."

"There is one who could unite them," Gandalf said stubbornly. "One who could reclaim the throne of Gondor."

I closed my eyes. Poor Aragorn. Why did they have to keep pestering him to take the throne? Eru knows that kind of inheritance is no gift.

"He turned from that path a long time ago," Elrond replied quietly. "He has chosen exile."

"Perhaps," Gandalf said quietly, "someday he'll choose fulfill his destiny."

"Perhaps," Elrond replied, his tone unconvinced.

"Well," Gandalf sighed, "I am going to speak with Bilbo." His footsteps echoed out of the building, and Elrond's came closer. Mordor! I was still holding his guest list!

I made a dash for the desk.

"I thank you for returning my invitation list," Elrond said behind me, his tone highly amused.

I cleared my throat, casually letting the paper drop where I'd found it. "No problem," I replied lightly, hoping he wouldn't say anything else.

Of course, I'm never that lucky.

"However, I am rather curious as to what your interest in it is."

"Hmm." Technically speaking, statements don't require an answer. I turned around, meeting Lord Elrond's bemused gaze. "I'll just..." I cleared my throat. "...go."

"You do that," he replied dryly. I hurriedly moved toward the door, and he added, "Oh, Amariel?"

Something about his tone caught my interest, and I stopped. "Yes?"

His mouth twitched, hiding a smile. "The chances are almost nonexistent...but wear a dress."

My own lips twisted into a grin. Elrond wouldn't tell me anything more...but just this once, I might listen to him.

I left Elrond's house and went directly to my room. Then I began going through my wardrobe.

Lord Elrond had had four dresses made for me before my trousers and shirt. I finally settled on an emerald-green dress with three-quarter-length sleeves, trimmed in gold and white lace. Then I brushed out my wild mane and began laboriously braiding it up into a thick crown around my head. Upon finishing, I inspected my work in the mirror. It was actually pretty good.

Finally, I glanced between my two pairs of shoes. Flats, or boots? Not much of a choice, really. I snagged my boots and pulled them back on. They were much more comfortable than flats ever could be. That done, I regretfully left my weapons behind and exited the room.

I began descending the long series of stairs winding down the mountainside, holding my cumbersome skirt out of the way and letting my momentum build. Focusing on my feet so I wouldn't trip over myself, I flew around a corner. And slammed into oncoming traffic.

"Oomph!" he grunted.

I staggered back, about to fall, but his hands caught my shoulders.

"Eru dammit," I snapped, "watch where you're-!"

Oceanic blue eyes stared down at me, framed by long blond hair.

"...going..."

He released his hold on my shoulders and straightened, holding my gaze in his unforgiving one. "Sorry." His tone was curt. "I didn't see you down there." Twisting his lithe body, he moved around me, careful to avoid contact.

My eyes followed him as he ascended the stairs. He was dressed in a dark green tunic that clung to his muscular shoulders, and an ornate longbow and quiver were slung across his back. And his hair...I imagined how it would feel, running through my fingers...

He glanced at me over his shoulder. Caught, I blushed bright red. His cold eyes met mine, then he gave a humorless smirk and trotted away.

I bit my lip, fighting a smile that made absolutely no sense. I was sorely tempted to follow him...but something told me he wouldn't appreciate the gesture. Besides, I was wearing this blasted dress. Not exactly subtle.

So, I kept heading toward the gate, wondering who that cold ellon had been. He wore the apparel of a high-ranking Mirkwood guard, and carried himself with the confidence of a seasoned fighter. Perhaps one of the Elves on Elrond's guest list? If I weren't still reeling from the whole situation with Elladan, I would probably have a lot of fun with this one.

I winced. Elladan.

Why in Mordor did he have to get in the way of everything!?