3. Begetting Day Preparations
Today was it…the most exciting day of his life. Rúmil took care with his appearance. He was not sure why he was putting forth any extra effort. He had no desire to catch anyone’s attention since he would be leaving the realm shortly. Maybe, he mused as he pulled the side strands of hair back into a herringbone and tied it off, he wanted to make a good impression on those of the Wandering Company. Lord Gildor was being most generous to accept him along…of course Rúmil knew that *no one* could deny the Lady of the Golden Wood, all the more reason to show Gildor that he was worthy of this opportunity.
With his hair gleaming like spun silk and pulled away from his face, the young Silvan began to dress. His thoughts turned back to the handsome Lord. The Wandering Company was an eclectic group of elves and Rúmil wondered to what kindred their leader belonged. He had heard tell that nearly all branches of elves were represented in the company. He pictured Gildor. He had rich, deep blue eyes and golden hair like summer wheat. He certainly did not look like a Noldo, maybe Sinda? The few Teleri in middle earth all had silver hair. Silvan elves’ hair was often pale blond, but their eyes were light blue or gray. Lady Galadriel had golden hair, which was a familial trait. The only other golden haired, dark blue-eyed elf on Arda was, of course the lord of the Golden Flower and that was because he was a Vanya, born in Aman. The Vanya were long gone from Arda’s shores and none, save Glorfindel, came with the Exiles; that meant Gildor was not a Vanya. Rúmil was quite curious.
The archer tied the pale gold sash around his waist. It was a perfect contract to the forest green raw silk tunic and black buckskin leggings. As he laced his boots, Gildor again, crept into his thoughts. He found himself wondering what the elf lord would be wearing. His hands stilled on the laces of his boots as he remembered the open tunic and the gold chain peeking enticingly out. A sudden heat rose within the young elf. Rúmil chuckled; great, he was infatuated by his soon to be mentor. He felt like an elfling who had a crush on his teacher. He smiled. Perhaps that was why Silide became the Lórien ambassador in Imladris. Rúmil checked his appearance once more and left his talan. As he closed the door, a small cloud crept over his heart. His bother would be none to happy about all this.
Gildor dressed for the feast. It was good to see Galadriel again. He had missed her calm presence. He pulled his shirt over his head and tucked it into his dark blue leggings. As was his style preference, the collar was open on the shirt to nearly mid chest. It was a sliver blue with silver embroidering at the yoke and cuffs. He sat at his mirror to tend his damp locks. Gazing at his reflection he noted a hint of melancholy lingered in his eyes. He was getting bored with Arda and lonely, but he was not comfortable with the thought of sailing west. He thought of the new addition to his company. The young Silvan seemed bright and willing to learn. He certainly had skills that the group would benefit from. One hundred and fifty, though…he smirked…that was so very young! He could not even remember that far back.
Gildor brushed his light golden locks till they fell like a soft waterfall to the small of his back. He decided against any braids. Instead, he placed a delicate circlet on his brow. He may not like to flaunt his lordship, but he was the head of his company and Galadriel frequently reminded him of his true station.
He smiled as he thought of her. Rarely did she far-speak him and he was surprised to hear her soft voice interrupt his own darker thoughts. A favor, she called it, a favor with benefits to Gildor in turn. Take a young elf with him, teach him of all things in Arda, and he in turn will teach you, she had said. His mind turned again to the young elf in question. Gildor wondered if there was some reason the ellon wanted to leave the wood, for he was in his prime and should be looking for a mate or moving up in his career. Rúmil was definitely a good catch physically. He was tall and lean, and had a comely face framed by beautiful light blond hair. His light blue eyes were deep and thoughtful; there was wisdom locked inside, waiting to come out. The elf lord was a good judge of character and could sense the goodness in the younger elf. Of course, he had Galadriel’s favor too.
Gildor pulled on his over robe and closed the clasp at his waist. Rúmil would be quite a catch. There was a flutter in Gildor’s stomach at this thought. It caught the ancient elf off guard. “What was that?” thought Gildor as he left his flet.
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.