Something caught his attention as he wandered far from the earthly plane, and focusing, he heard a footstep nearby at the edge of his consciousness. Normally another stroller would respect his privacy and enjoy their tour of the open corridor without disturbing him. However the stroller paused and waited patiently and quietly. He recognized the aura of Alfirin, a scholar from Lorien's woods, yet one well-traveled and sometimes resident at Rivendell as well. He sifted through memories of the sea and his mother and brother, drifting past thoughts about his own twin sons, and slowly rejoined his body resting on the balcony. He smiled a slight smile and shook his head slowly as he returned to the weight and reality of his physical form. He sat up and returned the stone to his pocket.
"Greetings Lady Alfirin" he said softly as he focused on the tall figure before him. Her pale flaxen hair caught the last rays of the rosy sun as it set beyond the canyon's rim, strands lifted in the breeze around them. Her blue eyes were heightened by the shifting colors of her robe, now green, now blue in the fading light. Silver threads picked out a woven pattern as she moved. He beckoned the bench beside him. "I have not seen much of you since you arrived," he remarked, "You have been buried in the scrolls and manuscripts or lost deep in the plant rooms at the greenhouses."
He smiled as her scent reached him, soft and sweet, it was that of a small flower found only among the roots of the Mallorn trees and nowhere else. Arwen favored a similar scent, and his wife Celebrian had worn it as well. The fragrance was inextricably tied to his family and past memories, yet it always made him remember the better times, and brought a smile to his lips.
Alfirin sat and smiled back at him, his erratic aura touched hers, and she always found those unique patterns fascinating. She laid her arm along the edge of the bench and picked up a loose and curling strand of his dark hair. "So, you escaped from Lindefal's attentions today did you?" she asked, referring to the simple braid that gathered most, but not all, of the raven fall of waving locks. She laid it along the rosy fabric covering his shoulder. Silver charms jangled softly as she moved. "I barely escaped his grand plans for my appearance this morning indeed," he smiled. "Have you found the obscure cure you seek yet?" he asked. She nodded no and shrugged, "I can stay until it is found, we both know it is recorded somewhere in Rivendell's library." His hand reached out and clasped hers as it lay along her long thigh. Tiny silver flowers chimed again as they dangled from a slender chain wound around her wrist. He lifted her hand and gave it a small shake to jangle the tiny charms again. Their gentle sound was sweet and amusing. She raised her hand to his cheek and touched it softly, and then laid her hand on his shoulder. She gave an affectionate squeeze and a wry nod of her head. "You seem preoccupied these days, my Lord of Rivendell." She sensed a disturbed flow of energy and discomfort, but dared not proceed further without permission. Perhaps later she might seek to repair the damage.
He looked at her and smiled, remembering past encounters with this healer from Lorien, she was especially sensitive to auras and very adapt at healing manipulations of disturbed energy flows. Her demure professional demeanor hid a cheerful and prankish personality. She would dance the grass off the lawns he had told her at their last meeting, when he had collapsed onto a bench panting as she whirled away into a new intertwining line. The long evening of dancing had not affected her energies as she kept him amused later that night nearly til dawn amidst the sheets of his oversized square bed.
"Healer Thaladorn asked me to invite you to share ale with us tonight, and perhaps more if you were of a mind." Her invitation was offered with a twinkle in her eye and a blush on the cheek. "He is just back from a plant gathering foray and brings a small amount of lanfalas with him on this trip. He used a variation of the formula and wishes your opinion on its quality. We are trying to cultivate the ingredients in our greenhouses, however you know how finicky those plants can be. We may have found plants in that family group with similar properties that work nearly as well." Her hand stroked his tired shoulder and the invitation for further pleasure was underlined by her gentle caresses.
Her offer was tempting, and he was thinking of how pleasant a diversion this could be when a twinge of his shoulder reminded him of this temporary disability. They were healers; perhaps a treatment could be managed between friendly conversation and a tumble in his scented sheets. Thaladorn had delicious dark eyes and a pout to the lips that was enticing. His skills ranged from the most delicate blending of medicines to the necessary strength and refinement of skills needed to reset dislocations and broken bones. These sensitivities were also expressed in more the gentle intimate arts as well.
It had been some time since he had shared an evening with either of these frequent guests. The little buzz of anticipation starting at the back of his mind was interrupted by another familiar sensation. A tickle came to him along the edge of his aura, and by the green and mossy scent, and the familiar pattern of energy he felt, he recognized Galenbrethil nearby. He heard her footstep on the stairs and she came around the corner.
"Good evening, Galenbrethil," he greeted her. "Good evening, My Lord," she responded softly, "and greetings Alfirin." She stood in the familiar position of head tilted to one side and a slight smile on her lips. Her deep gray eyes were affectionate and concerned in their gaze. She held a small glowing lantern in one hand and a small wooden healer's case in the other. Dark hair fell over one shoulder in a complex braid, and she still wore the loose apron of a healer. He opened his eyes wide at this sight, and his eyebrows rose in question. She was not at the Great House for the dancing tonight.
He had not visited with her either for some time now. She taught classes or sorted new plants in the greenhouse, and he had toured the long greenhouse aisles only briefly or taught classes in medicinal herbs and healing himself. She and Findalor continued to relish each other's company and had pledged devotion to each other, but had not come to see him about marriage yet. There was time for those vows later he hoped. He loved them both and desired peace and happiness for his old friends and lovers.
He and Galenbrethil had noted each other's passing in the aisles with a nod, or had felt the presence of the other in greenhouses, but had had no chance for conversation recently. There were many visitors learning new medical skills or plant lore under the guidance of Galenbrethil, Cirgalad and the greenhouse managers. She rarely came to dinner at the Great House anymore. Alfirin and Thaladorn had spent many hours with her in study these past few days.
He looked at her skeptically; they had been friends and lovers too long for him not to know that her sudden appearance in working garments was no coincidence. "You look well," he said, from his sprawl across the bench. He stretched his long legs out in front of him, folded his hands, and looked at her directly. She glanced at Alfirin and after a pause said, "Erestor tells me you are not sleeping and are restless," she replied gently, her piercing eyes taking in his appearance. You do not look well," She tsk-tsked, and said, "Your eyes appear tired and you are pale. Lindefal says you injured your shoulder yesterday." Elrond had already heard Erestor and Lindefal's fussing remarks today, now it seemed they had sought reinforcements tonight. Erestor had already tut-tut-ed about the danger of yesterday's race at dinner tonight. Lindefal had more time to worry over him in these lazy days of summer when the schedule was routine and all had time on their hands for relaxing and enjoying life.
Elrond sometimes thought that Lindefal enjoyed fussing over the Master's Chambers, and the Master, as a hobby as well as a calling. Indeed, the library had been thoroughly cleaned and inventoried, mislaid items found, the study tided and swept, and the bedchamber cupboard's contents had been aired, sorted, repaired and laundered. Again, for the countless time, Elrond had rescued his favorite worn riding leggings and jacket from the ragbag. He thought to himself he needed to find something to occupy his devoted friend's time for a while here in midsummer's lazy days. His wandering attention was drawn back to quiet figure seated beside him and the tall figure standing before him. As patient and single minded as a stone he had characterized Galenbrethil. She had the patience of the ages when she dealt with the dark haired Lord of Rivendell. Alfirin sat taking in the scene quietly and assessing the situation between them.
Ceding her position to the privilege of the resident healer, she rose and with a last warm grasp of his hand, she said, "Perhaps tomorrow evening then? Keep us in your thoughts." She bowed with grace to Galenbrethil with a warm smile and wandered off along the corridor into the darkening evening. Galenbrethil watched her move along the corridor and disappear around the corner. With a slight smile she turned to the dark haired Master of the House and said, "I am guessing my timing is not the best this evening, I apologize if I interrupted anything." He shrugged, trysts and intimate gatherings were loosely organized and arranged at Rivendell, rebuffs were easily forgiven and previous arrangements acknowledged by all. The evening dimmed into darkness and the music from the dancing on the lawn wafted along the corridors.
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