To Live Again: Waiting Between Worlds {Lord of the Rings Fanfiction}

30. Remember Me...

"This is highly disrespectful! What? Do they believe we have nothing better to do than wait around in the woods all day?"

"I think you will find that is exactly what they think we do," Celairiel chuckles, glancing down at Legolas from the most unorthodox position stretched put between two trees, her bare feet digging into the flaking bark - and I can't for the life me understand how that doesn't hurt her toes?

"Yes, well we can see why they would with the likes of you traipsing about the woods," Legolas grumbles and makes a show of slouching into the neck of his horse, who in turn lowers his head in utter boredom. There is a brief moment of silence before Celairiel shoots up the branches, and after a brief rustling of leaves there is a distinguishable whoosh and loud curse, as an acorn smacks Legolas off the back of the head. I, of course, receive an indignant look.

"You deserved that," I reply with a pointed finger, picking up the hems of my worn and dirt stained travelling garb, I make my way back towards my son carrying some meagre food rations. I offer the small handful of nuts and berries to my unhappy son, smiling when he brightens up at the mere thought of food. "Eat...you are so unreasonable when you are hungry," I command with a soft chiding to my voice, though it is entirely weightless. Leaning my head back I glance up into the vast treetops and squint; "And you...madam...your Adar will be hearing of your behaviour on our return! You are a grown elleth Celairiel, not a disobedient elfling!" Legolas gives an amused snort but chokes it off when I level him with a warning look, crossing my arms I glance upwards again; "three seconds Celairiel...one...two...th-."

"Good Eru you are all so bloody tense!" Celairiel's irked voice sounds beside me as she lands to the ground with an elegant thud. Before she can carry on giving me some lip, I lick my thumb and begin to rub off the streak of forest dirt across her left cheek, which predictably is met with much whinging.

"Celairiel, please, for maybe a few hours could you act like a Princess?" I plead quietly, combing her unruly hair from her face and attempting to work it back into the unravelled braid.

"Why?" she asks bluntly and I resist the urge to glare in that predictable motherly fashion. She smirks a little at my expression and shrugs, "they are just dwarf smiths, I doubt they would understand the etiquette of elven society even if it was displayed before them."

"Regardless of their understanding, you are here representing your Adar and his Kingdom!" I scold, and for once I see a hint of shame colouring her cheeks. Roughly I straighten her burgundy cloak and level her with a serious stare; "Just because relations between our races is poor does not mean that we shame ourselves by not being the best version of ourselves in their presence...besides dwarves are a noble folk...or so I have heard. Now, go tidy yourself up and practise your most charming small talk."

"Yes, Naneth," she sighs and at least has the decency (or maybe the audacity) to give a small curtsy before she strides off into our hastily built camp.

Our people are getting considerably more irritated by each passing hour, for our dwarven guests have not yet graced us with their presence. We have camped overnight in anticipation they would arrive upon the road in the late morning, sadly the daylight is fading and it looks like we shall be camping another night. I have attempted to remain calm and unruffled by their tardiness and even send some guards ahead to ensure nothing ill befell of our travelling company, although Legolas assures me he has scouted most of the road and bordering woods these past few weeks and is satisfied all is safe and well maintained. The consensus is that these trading dwarf lords have decided to purposefully keep us waiting. I want to think better of them, but given the circumstances and the strained history between us and them, I would say the consensus is probably correct.