The leaves were long, the grass was green,
The hemlock-umbels tall and fair,
And in the glade a light was seen
Of stars in shadow shimmering.
Tinuviel was dancing there
To music of a pipe unseen,
And light of stars was in her hair,
And in her rainment glimmering.
The first time I saw her, she was grieving, though for what she grieved, I knew not; I knew only that seeing her, whose hair was like unto spun gold and whose eyes were blue as sapphires- seeing her so saddened was a sight that not many had ever known. I had never seen her before, this beautiful stranger that wandered in Doriath, and so I hid from her and watched her, silently.
A tear slipped down her face once and she swept it away in seeming shame. I could tell from the proud lines in her face that she was not wont to break down so. She had the Valar-mark upon her, as did my mother Melian. She had spent time in the Blessed Realms, then. I wondered why she had left, and whether perhaps it was the events that had compelled her to leave Aman that caused her such grief now. To this day I know not why I stood and watched and listened to her, utterly enthralled by her beauty. It may have been hours, or perhaps but moments.
Eventually she turned, and began to walk in the direction of my father's abode. I found myself watching the way her dress fell about her hips and moved with her as she walked; never had I seen such power and grace combined in one that was not my mother (though my mother was too beautiful to bear, sometimes.). Her hair fell like a river to her back; her face was strong, high cheekboned -beautiful, but stronger perhaps than could be considered properly feminine. There was power in her face, true power- as though she would rule, could rule any that would attend to her. But now she grieved, and so there was vulnerability in her eyes.
I gathered up my courage, for I was the princess of Doriath- daughter of Elu Thingol- what stranger would force me to hide and watch in silence? I would catch her by surprise. Silently, I slipped out and walked ten paces behind- she was distracted indeed, for despite the quiet of my movements she should have noticed me.
"Stranger," I said finally, my voice wavering. The silence that had hung about us was broken. She turned, alarmed; her hair whipped about her, and a fire came into her eyes as she gasped.
"You startled me," she replied, trying to regain her composure. She tucked a strand of golden hair behind one pointed ear. I suppressed a smile, knowing that she saw me for what I was; daughter of a Maia, princess of my own realm, and beautiful. I knew she knew that I was beautiful. She took a sharp breath inwards.
"I am Luthien, daughter of Thingol," I told her imperiously, stepping forward so that she was closer to me. "And princess of Doriath. What business have you in my father's wood?"
She bowed slightly in an age-old gesture of courtesy. "My lady, I am called Alatariel. Your mother gave me safe passage through this realm, and I thought but to see its beauty before I left."
"This is a long path for a traveler, and you were headed deeper into the forest, towards my father's home," I answered. "Think you that my eyes and wit are so dim as that? Nay; I see that you are troubled. Tell me, what disturbs your mind?"
She swallowed, and I could tell that she debated whether or not to tell me the truth. And then she smiled sadly, those blue eyes wrinkling at the edges.
"I was sorrowing for deeds long done, and choices long ago made; for paths that cannot be retraced, and for light that has been swallowed by darkness."
I moved even closer to her, peering deep into her eyes. "I see the mark of the Valar upon you; yes, you have been in the Blessed Realms. And yet you left, on a journey long and dark...there must have been pain."
Her eyes became shadowed then, and she turned away. "Yes, there was pain," she replied, and made no further comment.
I could see that I had spoken too much, and pressed too deeply. "I am sorry."
"You have nothing to apologize for," she said, but her eyes still kept the shadow.
"Nay, I pressed upon your wound. It was uncalled for."
She turned to me again, and smiled slightly. "You are, after all, a princess, and have the right to question a stranger that wanders your realm."
I nodded. "That does not make it right."
She smiled faintly, a tiny upturn of the lips that seemed to express her feeling of superiority to me. I stiffened. What right had this stranger, walking in the woods of Doriath, to show such impudence to me? I straightened and lifted my head high, letting my hair fall to its full length, where it almost reached my ankles.
"But come, we are of Quendi blood, and lies do not suit us. Tell me what your true errand is," I demanded.
She slumped slightly, seeming defeated. "I fear that nothing can turn aside your will."
I arched a brow. "Do not toy with me, Alatariel." Her unfamiliar name sounded strange on my lips.
She looked shocked for a moment, as though she was not sure whether it was proper for me to use her name so casually so soon. I liked the way her mouth opened slightly, whilst she tried to think of something to respond to me with. This was how the stranger should behave!
"I came bearing a message from my mother, Earwen, to Thingol your father," she said finally.
"And what in this message was so secret that it required such subterfuge?" I inquired, more out of a desire to see her wonder how to respond to me than out of true curiosity.
Again, she looked vulnerable and upset, her lips curving outward slightly in a tiny pout that she was barely aware of.
"I-" she began, taking a deep breath. "It is a message from one of the sons of Feanor."
At this I gasped. "Truly?"
She nodded, and lapsed back into silence.
I moved forward again, and took her hand, turning her so that we were walking on a shorter path towards my home. "Father does not love Feanor overmuch, nor his sons. The news of the Kinslaying much grieved him."
She swallowed sharply, and took her hand out of mine, walking faster. "The Kinslaying grieved all who heard of it."
"You came with the sons of Feanor, did you not?" I said, realizing the truth of my own words. "And this was the painful journey of which you speak!" I had found the cause of her grief, and yet with my knowledge grew some measure of respect. While I had greeted the grisly tales of the Kinslaying with horror, I lived with a Maia; the Valar must have been ten times more poweful, and to stand up to them would take much courage.
She turned back, looking angry, her hair flying about her as she whirled. "I thought it was not honorable to press upon my injury!"
"And yet it was honorable enough, Alatariel, for you to lie to me?"
She sighed. "Forgive me. Old wounds such as I have are not easily closed."
I nodded. "I forgive you. Now, I believe you have a message for my father?"
She sighed in slight relief, and held out her hand trustingly. I could feel my heartbeat speeding up slightly, strangely enough, as I took it, and wondered why it did so; she was beautiful, to be sure, but she was no man! Despite this, I turned towards my father's house, and together we began to walk through Doriath.
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Two Women In Doriath by Thalia Weaver
Story notes: Obligatory plea for gentleness here- this *is* the first time I've ever sat down to write a slashfic, but what can I say? There is entirely TOO little LotR femslash out there. Galadriel goes by the name "Alatariel" for the first few chapters or so- that was one of her actual names- because I like the way it sounds. >.
