2. Chapter 2
While Lindir prepared himself for the evening meal, he thought about the young lady from Bree. She had arrived at Rivendell a week ago, sick and full of grief. He had learned the cause of her ill condition from Lord Elrond's sons, Elladan and Elrohir. His heart became heavy at the knowledge of his own kin's manipulating behavior toward women. He had his fair share of dallies, but never lied to any elleth or mortal woman about being in love with them.
He wondered how the firiel fared, for he had been thinking about her since the first day of her arrival. She was standing in the hallway with a dark-haired ranger. When Lindir approached, the man introduced himself as Madoc and asked to speak with Lord Elrond on an urgent matter. He lead the man and the young woman to Lord Elrond's study for more privacy, and before he left them, he had learned that her name was Olora.
"Olora" he whispered softly, smiling. Feelings that he had never felt before about her surfaced deep within him. Because he was elven and she was mortal, there was a consequence in bonding. He knew that he might fade when she died, but it was a risk worth taking. In his heart he already loved and accepted her, because he felt a special bond with her. To him she was a rose and his intuition told him that she would blossom with love and warmth. She was beautiful and had not been the least bit insecure until the unknown elf came along with his slick games and played with her innocence.
Lindir decided that he would do something special for Olora. He would sing to her in the Hall of Fire in hopes that it would uplift her, bringing her out of despair.
Olora sat on the edge of the bed already dressed waiting for the bell, signifying the evening meal, to ring. She wore a beautiful black dress with gold embroidery across the neckline and around the cuffs of her sleeves. A soft knock was heard at the door and Olora bid whomever it was to come in. Lord Elrond, followed by a raven haired elleth entered. "I hope that you are well this evening," Elrond said.
Olora gave the dark-haired elf a trembling smile. "I am alright, my lord."
Elrond gave her a sympathetic look and then introduced her to the elder elleth, Cenwen. She had high cheekbones and grey eyes.
Carandra had reported to Elrond her concern about Olora's abrupt orders not to assist her in getting dressed. To the elves, it was considered ungrateful to turn away help when offered and Lord Elrond made it clear that Olora should accept and be grateful. She apologized for her behavior and explained her actions to him.
"You must understand that after working in an inn serving people, I see myself as a servant. I just don't feel that it is proper for one servant to serve another," Olora stuttered as if she was on the verge of another weeping episode. Elrond walked toward her and took her hands into his and held them.
"Dear Olora, you are not a servant here. You are a guest," he replied gently. "So take my advice and accept the help that is given. Now, I will leave you alone with Cenwen, who will care for you. I trust that you will not turn her away as well," he finished with an amused look.
Before Elrond left, he gave her some tea to calm her before the evening meal. Cenwen took a brush from the dresser and gently encouraged Olora to sit while she brushed her hair. She humbly obeyed without protesting. "I usually wear my hair down," she said after an awkward silence. "I see," Cenwen replied, as if pondering Olora's words. "I don't see any harm in trying something different from time to time." She started humming a song, while continuing to do Olora's hair.
Cenwen had given her an up do style, full of curls. Taken by surprise, Olora thanked her with eyes full of tears, which Cenwen wiped away. "There will be none of that tonight, my lady." The bell tolled. "It is time for dinner. Let us make haste," Cenwen said, and taking Olora by the hand, she led her to the dining hall.
As soon as they made their way to the dining hall, the sweet aroma of food drifted in the air. Olora's stomach rumbled, reminding her that she had not had a good meal since she became ill with grief. She only had broth to sustain her. Once she was seated and the food served, she tried not to eat in haste, but failed as she quickly ravaged her food. The elves around her seem not to notice as they made small talk with her. She would grunt out two words in reply to their questions whenever her mouth was not full of food or drink.
After the meal, everyone went across the corridor to the Hall of Fire for singing and dancing. Olora was not in the mood for dancing and thought better to retire back to her room, until Lord Elrond encouraged her to at least attend the singing. She politely acquiesced to his request, joining them in merriment.
The atmosphere was cozy. There was a great hearth between two carved pillars with a fire that blazed year round. Olora was led to a plush chair. After she was seated, Lord Elrond told her to enjoy the singing. The lights were dimmed as a slow melody played and a soft voice began to sing.
La la la la la la
La la la la la la la la
A rose is still a rose lady, you're still a flower
he can't lead you and then take you
make you and then break you sweet lady, you hold the power
His voice was so sweet and beautiful to Olora's ears that she felt the tears slid down her cheeks for the umpteenth time. He was blond with sky blue eyes and he was handsome, wearing a red tunic with gold embroidery and black leggys. A red round hat crowned his head. He seemed to shine like the sun as he continued singing.
Let your life be in the sunshine
not the darkness of your sorrow
you may see you're all today
when you know it'll come tomorrow
A rose is still a rose
she wears a flower, trying to forget about you
He had stopped singing as the music played, making his way toward Olora, who was still crying. He handed her a single red rose. "This is for you, my lady," he said. She accepted the rose and politely thanked him, still sniffling. "May I have this dance?"
Before she could respond, he had swept her onto the dance floor, keeping up with the slow melody. While they danced, he had introduced himself as Lindir. "My name is Olora," she replied.
"I know who you are. I remember you from when you first came here," he said, looking deeply into her eyes. She held her head down, ashamed of the circumstance that led her here. He gently lifted her head with his index finger. "If you let me into your life. I promise, lady I will treat you right. You're still a rose, my special flower," he sanged. Olora laid her head on his chest.
It had been three months since the night that Lindir introduced himself to Olora. Every day he would visit with her, eat beside her in the dining hall and then afterwards they would go for walks in the garden. One day, he was going hunting with his friends. He saw Olora standing outside near the entrance of the courtyard with a few ellith.
He walked hurriedly to her. "Olora, can I talk to you alone for a moment?" He inquired. His face was flushed and he was breathing heavily.
"Are you alright?" She asked frowning with concern. He nodded his head and took her by the hand, leading her to a private area. He gave her the news that he was going hunting with his friends and should return in a few days. She winced at the thought of him leaving Rivendell. What if he would never return like Nengion?
"I will return, my flower," he chuckled as if reading her thoughts. "I have no choice, for this is my home." Olora had forgotten that this was a different situation and that Lindir was nothing like Nengion, who had been full of lies and deceit. No, Lindir was true and he represented love.
"Wait for me, my flower. While I am gone, court no other ellon." He paused and then continued; "I love you." He kissed her on the cheek, leaving her stunned. She placed her hand on her left cheek where the kiss was planted and felt a warm sensation come over her. She prayed to the valar that he would hurry back home. Maybe she would give love another try.
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.