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beaflower77 · 7 years ago

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No More Pillows Please

The Great Hall sparkled.

It immensively sparkled and shimmered and took even the most stoic of elves’s breath away. They had adorned the room with an abundance of greenery, topiaries and lush, delicate, carefully arranged flowers and wispy, baby’s breath. Twirling round, dancing, forgetting pain or sorrow, tonight was a night of sheer satisfied merriment and gaiety.

The singers were arranged and awaiting their cue, anticipating an eager crowd. Elrond had seated himself among the throngs of elves this time, forgoing the usual center of attention, while comfortably conversing with Erestor and another. Eager to hear the elliths and ellyns perform for tonight’s performance, he smiled, laughed and enjoyed the camaraderie, relaxing with a fresh bottle of dark wine. Knowing after the songs, the recitals, anyone wishing to perform a talent, a poem, song or other feats of amazement, were welcomed and invited to come forth. Elrond greatly enjoyed these evenings of natural talent and gifts.

So did you.

You sat off to the side of the crowd, cradling a small drink, anticipating the wait. Looking round the hall, fires were brightly blazing away, candles strewn about, flickering reflections off the large mirrors which hung endlessly everywhere.

When the moment for the singers began, a hush quickly grew and raised the elves’ hearts and fae. Lilting, lyrical, melodic sounds rose, dipped and arched over the vast hall, brightly filling, enhancing the joy of all in attendance. When the chorus was sung, had ended, others approached for a chance to entertain and captivate an audience. When the sounds of laughter, applause and smiles drifted down and away, all thought the entertainment over, however, you stood. Then slowly, purposefully, you approached the main diadem of the room.

You had been practicing for ever so long now. So many hidden afternoons, quiet nights, learning to balance your voice. Anticipating each note, high and low, to get the song just right, just perfect for yourself. And him. You wanted very much to show everyone you too could sing, could also captivate an audience. And hold someone’s undivided attention. Being no dummy, your voice was beautiful, however not singing for anyone in such a long time, took a toll with your nerves. Even while knowing you could sing, you still were reticent of standing before others for the innumerable amount of time your song required. A mere three minutes worth, but still, a very large amount of time for you. You trembled with both dread and excitment.

Most eyes fixated to where you stood, wondering, thinking, what were you going to do. Recite a poem? Perhaps read your own which you wrote? Tell a story? You were enjoyed for the stories you told, entertaining others of your unknown, undetermined culture. Hearing, listening to your voice, no one was prepared for what you were about to offer. Elrond too sat wondering, looking casual, relaxed, however inside he entertained more secret thoughts. What were you about to do? Would you be any good at it? Embarassing for him? Upsetting for the elves? He was not about to stop you, however, a certain hesitation grew by the minute, with each step you took, bringing yourself closer, standing nearer the x on the spot.

Once the prepared music, the song began, once you opened your mouth, your voice was captivating, You obviously had a strong, deep, beautiful voice and you obviously had practiced thoroughly. It came out clean, clear, making everyone stare at you with wonder, disbelief, even if you sang in a different language. It didn’t matter what you were singing, just the sound and the song, was lovely, enchanting, captivating nonetheless. How could you, a simple mortal, coming from who knows where, have such talent? Such gifted beauty should never be wasted they thought, agreed and their smiles and tears encouraged you to continue, rather than running down the halls in shame or embarrassment. Finishing, raising your skirts and curtsying as low as possible without slipping, stumbling, everyone applauded. You smiled shyly, looked over the crowd, centered your eyes for the one elf you desired most, wishing he could have known you sang specifically for him, to him, only for his benefit, delight, wanting him to know you loved him fiercely, solely,

Looking round, you didn’t see him. Disappointment set in. A small frown mixed with a little smile, and you decided to find a seat somewhere in the back of the room and disappear, while grabbing another drink off some table or other on the way.

“Y/N,” he called. “Y/N, Lord Elrond would like to speak with you. Follow me,” Haleuth said to you politely. Too politely it seemed. Oh, joy upon joy, it was him! Your one elf, whom you loved. Had he heard you after all? Not moving yet, you stilled him with a soft touch of your hand on his arm. “Halueth?,” you asked, pounding starting in your chest. “Did..you hear me? Did you, did you like it? Did you enjoy my singing?” Waiting for Haleuth to say Yes, No, was an agony in itself. What if he said No? What would you do? Would you be alright with him not caring for you? Would you melt, become desolate? You waited an endless amount of seconds.

“It was nice.,” Haleuth replied, blandly. “Oh.,” you gave, your mouth closing after a second. Well, he did reply. He did say it was ‘nice’. But, that’s not what you wanted, and it definitely was not what you were expecting. “Come with me.,” once again Haleuth said, starting to lead the way to where Lord Elrond sat. The closer you neared Elrond’s chair, him poised just so, seeing him trying to keep a disapproving, questioning look off his face, the more you became anxious, hesitant. And you began to walk slower, slower, and slower still toward him, with your heart beginning to sink. Standing there, before the lord of all, keeping your heart from pounding, bursting, you approached. You tried to smile. It didn’t quite happen.

Elrond’s face. His face, usually inviting, graceful, full of welcome and charm, but not so this moment. Tonight, his face was of stone.

“Your song was unusual, Y/N.” You cringed. He was displeased. You could tell from the tone of his voice, his choice of words, his slowness. If he had been happy, he would have smiled, you thought. But, “The lyrics. What were they concerning?” You couldn’t help shifting your eyes from Elrond to his special guest, Lady Galadriel. She watched you, her eyes not so incensed or irritated, still curious to hear your reply. Downcast, hurt, not to mention a little angry, annoyed, you dumped your answer, not one he wanted to hear either. “The song meant nothing.,” you flatly said. “Just a bunch of messed up, garbled words. It was something old I heard once or twice. And…I…memorized it.” Lowering your eyes, trying to keep from pouting, your heart crushed. For Elrond or anyone else that mattered to you, didn’t jump forth and proclaim your voice majestic and magical. “The song meant nothing.” You shrugged. “It was nothing.” And you would say no further.

“It was a love song.,” Galadriel mentally whispered to Elrond. “She has publicly declared her love for someone here tonight.” And Galadriel secretly smiled inside, her heart feeling yours, her love trying to caress your sober hurt and lonliness. “She has chosen someone tonight.” And Galadriel outwardly smiled softly at you. So wrapped up in your own self absorption, you didn’t register her apparent approval. But he did.

“It would be best then not to sing songs that do not have meaning, Y/N. Or, are unheard of. Especially when the elves cannot detect or understand your language. Nor where it is from. It would be very difficult to explain you.,” Elrond pointedly placed those thick, yet graceful words down on the floor, where you examined your shoes and agreed upon. Looking up, raising your head, your eyes, your brows, keeping the hurt and upset hardly off your face, “Alright. I won’t sing anymore. I understand. Can I leave now?,” already starting to back away. And a motion made with a nod gave you all the permission to turn and go. You looked at no one as you walked toward the exit. You forgot about him for the moment.

Walk slow. Walk slow. Don’t run. Just keep moving. Don’t cry. Don’t look back. Don’t look around. Keep going. Get out, get out, get out. Over and over you talked to yourself as you kept your head up, pacing yourself, refusing to run, cry for being chastised. At least, that’s what you thought it was. And the exit became closer with each step you gingerly took. One foot, then the other. Keep going. I’m almost there. At the exit, you rounded the corner, Run!

And ran you did. Through secret doors, down corridors, you ran till you couldn’t any longer. You threw yourself through the door of your chamber, shut the door and stood with your back against it. Shock, embarrassment, anguish, anger registered within. So much anger. Thinking back, on the song, the having to stand, walk past others, standing before them. Thinking back, he hadn’t heard the song you sang just for him. Him alone. Or maybe he had. You didn’t think so. It meant nothing to him.

You were upset, despondent, angry. You had prepared your song, had worked long and hard on having it just so, just right. So many months you practiced. Some of the musically talented elves, they had helped you prepare, performing the music for you. You stood there, in front of everyone. You felt the fool for doing so now. How? How could he not have heard it? He didn’t like it. He didn’t like you. You were nothing, nothing to him. The anger seethed through you, settling into your heart, piercing it to pieces. Why? Why couldn’t he like you? Why? There was nothing wrong with you. You knew there wasn’t. Why didn’t he like you? He probably liked someone else. Probably had someone else already, or had someone else in mind, you just didn’t know, you just hadn’t ever noticed or heard about. How embarrassing. Humiliating. Demoralizing.

“You should not have been so harsh with her, Elrond.,” Galadriel spoke in your defense, glancing across the floor at the elves, who wondered why you had left. “And how are we supposed to explain to them, who she is? Where she is from? No.,” he said. “It is best not to. It is best to leave Y/N out of the equation. It is best she not come to the forefront for now.” He sealed his mouth, folded his hands and stilled himself. Erestor watched. Wondering how a beautiful voice such as yours, had come before the elves that night.

And he watched also. And listened. And his heart grieved for you.

“There will come a time, Elrond, when you will have to divulge who Y/N is.,” stated Galadriel, not afraid of that moment. She is in love with someone here. At some point,” Galadriel stated, giving Elrond a look, “he will choose her also. And you will have no say over their love.” As Galadriel continued with Elrond, “As for her singing, her voice is quite lovely. She should continue to sing. And be encouraged. A talent should not be wasted needlessly.” Elrond gave her a sideways glance, said nothing, was stubborn, not wanting to know if Galadriel was correct in her surmisses and his waverrings. Elrond aquienced, “If you believe so, I will allow her to take lessons then.,” giving in to Galadriel. “However, I will not have Lindir teach her. I will find someone else. Perhaps Haleuth.” Haleuth, surprised, nodded his accent, his heart rising. Standing, Elrond needing to be alone with his thoughts and misgivings, “Excuse me.,” politely he gave her, nodding to the others with him, bowed, kissing Galadriel’s hand.

Seeing Elrond leave the hall, “What did you think of her voice, Erestor?,” Galadriel asked, pulling him into the arena of her designs. Voicing his opinion just so, “I wondered where she came into such a graceful voice.,” he mused, and crossed his arms. “I knew of her practicing.,” he continued. “I would like to have known what the words meant in her own tongue. it was..resonating..” And he thought about you. And pondered whom you had chosen.

And the other, he pondered his heart over you. He stayed, listened, and cast his eyes downward in thoughts. The look on your face, the hurt. It crushed him so, and he felt for you.

You looked at the room. Your room. And you hated it. You hated the night, the evening you both dreaded and looked forward to. You hated your singing, your voice and your decision to stand before them all. As for your decision, you cast your hatred and anger at your room. And began to pick your life apart. You hated the bed. The bed with the soft pillows laying there for you to rest your head on. The covers, the stupid covers to pull over your shoulders when you were cold at night. The books. The books you couldn’t read. Why where they in here in the first place? Stupid, stupid, stupid. You hated your room. Yourself. They hated you, you believed. You thought you felt this from them. You felt you knew exactly what was in their hearts toward you. You behaved childishly.

Still feeling stupid, dumb, ignorant, an idiot. Why did you sing? Why? You should have just kept your mouth shut. Stupid. Stupid. They hated you. You could tell. They completely disliked you. Stomping toward your bed, you grabbed the pillows, two at a time and threw them mercilessly cross the room, bashing against two brushes on the vanity, sending them scattering, bumping to the floor. “Ahhhh!,” you screamed. Your ripped the sheets, coverings off the bed, pulling, tugging them, almost tripping over them, dumping them into a pile, so lumpy and trimmed with green pipping. Those books, those tremendously beautiful books, which you couldn’t read, why did you even have them? A mockery you deemed. One by one, you flipped them across the room, hoping they would fly and tear. Instead, one, two, actually flew out the window and crashed onto the path below.

You didn’t care. You were swollen with madness and volitility. “Neehee!,” you screeched. Looking about, wondering what else you could throttle, you cast your eyes down. Those slippers you wore, or actually the one still left on your foot. The other slipper, it had scattered, slid somewhere else after you had kicked something or other. This slipper, you ripped off, threw cross the room. It fell outside, down almost smacking someone in the face below. Your closet, well there wasn’t much in there, but there was one dress. Beautiful, deep forest green, low neck line, half sleeved with a soft fur cuffs and lining round the collar. Setting your head down, eyes on the wardrobe knobs, you opened it, almost grabbed the lovely dress, but couldn’t quite accept touching it, defacing it. If you tore this one up, you’d have nothing but what you were wearing now. And well, the door was slammed shut instead, rattling against the wall. What else could you wreck havoc with?

“Haleuth?,” Yathlanae asked, “Would you walk with me a bit? I would like some air on my way back to my chambers.” Oh, Y/N’s friend, Haleuth thought. He thought, she is lovely, smart. And she was your friend. And that fact made him more so willing to walk, talk with her, because she was close to you. And if she was close to you, perhaps he could be more. “Of course.,” he answered kindly. “I was actually going that way myself.,” as he wondered how you were, leading Yathlanae out, down the paths in your general direction. “How did you find Y/N’s singing tonight? I thought it beautiful.,” Yathlanae asked, flashing a hearty smile, and she pulled her cloak tighter round her shoulders. “She has been practicing quite a bit lately, wanting it to sound just right.” “Wonderful!,” Haleuth agreed with. “Her voice is like a dove in the morning, cooing in my window. I want to hear her again, and again. It was breathtaking!” So joyous his countenance became, so enraptured with your voice, your being, yourself, that neither one of them noticed the two books flying out your balcony and landing with a solid, flat donk on the path, sliding off, bouncing into the grass. Then came the slipper. The grasses stained it. It fell into a nearby pool of water and floated.

Both looking at the books, the slipper, then each other, questions formed. What? Where did those come from? What is happening? And a little alarm within their thoughts began. Looking up, as they were under your balcony, they continued to hear noises of bashes, bumps, thumps gracing their elven ears. Looking at each other, they both agreed, let’s go figure this out. And swiftly walked up to confront you, or whomever.

Exhausted, depressed, still heart crushed, you did the only thing left. You landed on your knees, wiping, swiping at your eyes, mad, sad, despairing, and crawled over to where the lump of lush green and brown bed covers were piled. Finding a wayward pillow, discarded, kicked, you pulled it to you, dumped your body onto the covers, truly wanting to stuff your thumb in you mouth. Deciding to forgo the thumb, you curled up and closed your eyes to your pain and emotional turmoil. But as emotionally, physically exhausted as you were, your body wouldn’t let your mind drift off.

A little knock. Another knock on your door and a push, as the handle dipped down and the door cracked open. You closed you eyes shut, refusing to answer to what you had just accomplished in a short amount of time and energy. Your sleep was just a pretend nap.

The disaster. An extreme amount of disaster and cavalcade attended their eyes. “What has happened here?,” Yathlanae asked herself. Haleuth looked round. “What the..,” he asked, then he spotted you. Curled up, asleep, in a pile of nonsense. They felt your left over anger and bitterness fill the room. And his heart fell, “Poor little thing,” Haleuth said, as he carefully, soundlessly walked toward you. “She has exhausted herself.,” and he brought his hand, the tender back of his hand, across you cheek. Caressing, caressing, belovedly caressing your face, “So sweet.,” he mused. “My love. What has happened this night? You have brought a frenzy upon yourself.” And he slipped his hand, his arms under you, lifting you to his chest, found his balance, walked you to your bed. Laying you down, Haleuth carefully covered you for warmth, sitting on the side of the bed. “My little pigeon of music.,” he mused. “Oh, how childish your are sometimes. You must not let other’s opinion of you come near your heart. You are too tender, too easy worried and upset by triviality. Sleep my little dove, your heart and your music fills me with love. At some point you must grow up and not let them bother you so.” Haleuth smiled down on your sleeping form, as all the while you heard him. And what he said, made sense. You just had to learn it for yourself.

Being touched, adored by Haleuth, you kept your eyes shut. And listened. Continuing to touch, caress you cheek, hair, he wondered but didn’t judge your emotional faculties. Only gave sympathy, empathy. Yathlanae, shaking her head, started the tedious business of righting furniture, picking left over books off the floor and smacking dusty pillows and such. “You know she loves you Haleuth.,” Yathlanae mentioned, tossing the pillows down onto a chaise. Halueth smiled, “I know.” He massaged the underside of his neck, rocking, tilting it back and forth. “As do I. However, this behavior will not do. She will have to get a hold of herself, if I can ever ask Lord Elrond for her.” And he brought the covers up over your shoulders. You breathed, trying not to move, shift your weight or legs for a better position. Get a hold of yourself, you thought. He wants me. I’ll get a hold of myself. I will. I can do that, if Hulueth really wants me, I can. And inwardly you smiled and believed in yourself once again. Your heart relaxing, you began to actually drift off. Then the thought arrived in your tiny brain, Oh No, my room! I made my room a total mess. And they saw it!

Drifting off, you didn’t hear their conversation. “I’ll stay and finish up. Go ahead, I’ll do this.,” Haleuth told Yathlanae. Shrugging her shoulders, still perplexed from your drama, she said nothing, instead said goodnight to Haleluth and returned down the halls to her own chamber. As Haleuth continued to clean and pick up, he said aloud to your sleeping form, “Ah, silly one. Much growing up you will have to do, before I can take you.” Then, picking up, brushing off, “What have you done to my books?!” His books? Your mind reeled. Ugh! Haleuth lay down on the chaise, resting an arm under his head, one cross his chest, closed his eyes slightly and rested.

Opening your eyes, stretching, you yawned, surprised you had fallen asleep. Feeling somewhat better after your fit of unreasoning, you noticed your lovely elf was asleep himself on your chaise. Not being able to resist him, you slipped quietly off the bed, padded over to him and watched as his chest rose and fell in silence. You climbed onto the chaise, wriggling yourself next to him. Wordlessly, he wrapped his left arm round you, “You are awake Y/N,” he whispered. “Mmm, hmm.,” responding to him. You wished you had brushed your teeth beforehand.

It didn’t matter, all that mattered was now. Laying there with him, you knew you loved him. And you knew he accepted you. He didn’t ask questions, ‘why did you get angry?’, ‘why are you laying practically on top of him?’, ‘were you ever going to get off and brush your teeth?’ He let you be, let you lay there and held you tight against him, and smiled to himself as you brought your leg over, resting it on top of his thigh. Pulling you slightly tighter against himself, using his right hand to pull your leg over his, as you pushed up, and clamored over his body, raising your dress, so you could straddle him, brush yourself against him. So close. You were so close on Haleuth. Of all the inconceivable ideas, how this was happening you weren’t concerned with at all. Just having him near you, realizing you felt perfect, accepted, loved in return. You just had to emotionally grow up.

As your face came nearer his, his hand came up to rest on yours. “Kiss me.,” you whispered. Haleuth smiled, keeping his eyes closed, brought your face closer, opened his mouth and kissed you. Deeper, more passionate the kisses became. And the more passionate the kissing, the more you and he rocked, till you noticed a little something lengthening between you both. He lifted your skirts, raising them over your behind, causing a breeze to cool your body. Placing his hand between your bodies, Haleuth rubbed gently against you, causing you to quiver, tremble and lose control over your senses. Losing all abandon, you let out a cry, eliciting an adorable grin from him. He kissed you, as he brought his fingers up to his mouth, and sucked on them. The same fingers he had placed on you a moment before. So hot, so animalistic you thought, smiling innocently in return. And kissed him again, being rewarded with a ‘Hhhmmm’, in return.

As Haleuth maneuvered your body, removed your clothing, he placed you on top of him. But, not the front of your body. No, he placed your back, your behind on his chest, covering his own body and asked, “Is this alright? Is this comfortable for you?” Smiling, a little unsure of what this backward position was giving him in return, you still nodded acceptance. Haleuth smiled, knowing what he had in mind. He wiggled out of his leggings, letting them drop to the floor and placed himself between your legs, rubbed himself against your sex, and pushed in. You let out a huff. This was..this was unexpected, but not unacceptable to you. “Do you want me?,” Haleuth asked, whispering with a huskiness on his voice. “Do you accept me?” Tilting your head back against his, opening your mouth, you moved against him, “Yes.,” you said. “Yes. I want you. Yes.” He smiled as you and Haleuth joined, pleasing each other, as he placed his hand, fingers, once again between your legs and circled round, lifting with his hips, pushing inside.

Before this night was over, Haleuth would talk with Elrond. Agreeing to publicly make your wedding official, even if tonight was just a preliminary. You grinned, smiled at your beloved elf, agreeing with his mindset. Yes, a little growing up you would have to do, would have to learn, but long forgotten was the night of your uncontrollable temper tantrum. For now you were the wife of a beautiful, magnificent, kind elf who loved you, only you tremendously.

He wouldn’t put up with the pillows flying about your chambers anymore.

#Original Elven Fiction #You Better Get Control Of Yourself #Quit Throwing Things About And Grow Up

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