Stars of Varda - An Elven Love Story (Thranduil)

21. The River's Daughter

Ferdir comes by my chambers and invites me to accompany him for a sunset walk. I can think of no reason to decline. The days are growing shorter with September's approach, the lavender-blue pincushion flowers along the road to the village among the final blooms of summer.

I pause to touch one of their frilly petals, admiring their enduring spirit, inclined to pluck a few to cheer my rooms but not wishing to disturb their peace. A firey glow from the sky filters through the trees, bathing the earth in warmth. The light touches the river's surface, turning it to running gold.

I take in the scene before me, memorizing it by heart, for no paintbrush can capture it.

"You look like Goldberry," says Ferdir. "The River's daughter."

I look at him in surprise. "Alas, my river is not the Withywindle, nor am I as ancient as spring."

"Thankfully not." He reaches down and plucks one of the pincushion flowers, and tucks it behind my ear. "But this forest belongs to you, and you belong to the forest. The sun's light gives your hair a firey halo, or perhaps a crown...a woodland queen."

"I am no queen." I smile shyly, removing the flower from my hair and pretending to study it. "Only Rîneth."

Silence falls between us, Ferdir seemingly as lost in his own thoughts as I am mine. His manner of giving compliments so freely reminds me of Nethanar, and despite an inner knowing he harbors no malicious intentions, I feel wary.

"I shall be departing after Mereth Nuin Giliath," he says. "My aunt has already sent two letters begging my return."

I walk to the edge of the mossy bank for a better view of the golden river, and lean against a trunk of one of the proud beech trees. "She seems to be attached to you."

He joins me. "When my mother died, Adar thought I should be raised by her sister. She is like...a mother to me. And to her I am a son."

"Why did your father not raise you?"

"At that time he had many duties. He traveled far and wide, to realms of both Elves and Men. He did not believe he could raise an elfling on his own."

I imagine Lord Amdiron trying to rear a child and silently agree.

"I feel much guilt when I leave her," he continues. "My aunt and uncle never had children, for reasons I am not privy to. It was planned for me to return to the Greenwood after I reached adulthood, but when I did not, King Thranduil believed I lacked respect for my father."

And there it is, the reason for Thranduil's disdain towards Ferdir. Ever since his arrival I have pondered it, never feeling at ease to ask about it. The King places Amdiron in high regard, not only for his loyalty and respect, but for being at his side through every battle. It makes sense he would believe Amdiron deserved the same respect, especially from his son.

"Shall you ever live here permanently?"

"Yes." He leans his hand against the trunk above me. "The reason my aunt is so desperate for my return is due to them leaving soon for the Grey Havens. Afterward, I shall live here."

"Their departure must be difficult for you."

"Yes, certainly."

But I see only a touch of sadness in his dark eyes, as though he speaks of mere acquaintances.

"At least you shall experience Mereth Nuin Giliath. I doubt it compares to the festivals in Lórien, but here the song and dance continue through the night, until the sun's rising."

His sideways grin returns. "The Elves of the Greenwood love a good party."

"Tis true. And we love to dance."

"Then you and I shall dance the entire night."

I gasp as he suddenly pulls me into his arms. Around the riverbank he leads me in a dance, his angular face full of delight, as though he has waited for this all summer. My legs feel wobbly until my initial shock wanes. I decide to humor him, allowing him to lead me between the trees, and I tilt my head back in laughter after a dramatic twirl. He gives me a wink when he finally lets go.

"You are quite skilled, my lord."

"I hope I continue to surprise you, my lady."

I return to my prior spot against the beech trunk, an unpleasant knot tangling in my stomach. I wish he would stop looking as though he has just won a battle. Or my heart.

"Tell me, have you solved the great mystery?" I ask.

"The mystery of the harp?" Ferdir shakes his head, strands of his black hair flying away with the gentle evening breeze. "I still have my suspicions, even though you do not share them."

"Nay, I do not believe it was the King."

"You know him far better than I, so it is settled. It was not our dearest King Thranduil Oropherion," he says, his tone unconvincing. "Poor Lady Caewen. Unless her admirer reveals himself soon, she may be left to spend the ages with her mother..."

"You speak as though not marrying is the ultimate doom."

"It is when you are Caewen. Her father left them with hardly any silver to their name. She must learn a skill so may live comfortably until she crosses the Sea."

"Caewen is young and beautiful. I have little doubt she will find a mate."

"She is beautiful, yes, but she is no you."

My cheeks grow warm, and the unpleasant knot in my stomach tangles further. I excuse myself with a strained smile, stating a need to finish chores before the day's end.

As I reach the arch bridge, I let the pincushion flower fall from my hand to the river below, a small touch of blue in a rush of gold. It is carried to the other side of the bridge towards the shadows, where the water is dark gray, and I see its happy speck of color for a moment more. Then it is gone.

A/N:  WOW guys, thanks for all your comments and votes! The votes have really increased in the past few week and it's so exciting to know my story is being read and (hopefully) enjoyed! I have a feeling you'll like the next couple of installments....I'll update soon ;D