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| Neithawen's Deception |
| 8. Leavetakings |
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Neithawen closed the door to her room behind her. Her heart pounded rhythmically in her chest. Involuntarily her hand touched her throat where Legolas kisses had been. She sighed. But now there were more pressing matters at hand. She walked to the mirror and began to remove the pins from her hair. As it poured around her face, she was reminded of Legolas and his touch, his fingers like a gentle breeze playing through her hair. Neithawen picked up the brush and small cutting knife from the washbasin stand. She looked at both, saddened about what she had to do. But she must. With quick and diligent strokes she combed the lingering tangles from her smooth hair, making it lie flat against her back. She set the brush down and took a bunch of hair into her hand. Placing the knife about midback, she put pressure on the knife until she felt it give. Strands of her hair began to fall to the floor. Then it fell in larger groups. Finally, the majority of her hair lay at her feet. What was left was straight and sleek, ending a few inches below her shoulder line. Neithawen picked up the brush once more and began to get loose ends out. It seemed so odd to be brushing such a small amount of hair. She glanced back in the mirror, and to her surprise, she was not looking back at herself, but inside the mirror stood a young boy, just old enough to be considered for war. She marveled at her luck for just one moment, and then turned away from the mirror. She decided to completely finish before she dealt with her hair. She picked up the leggings. The dark brown didnt suit her complexion, but she figured that would help with the masculinity. I mustnt think like that any longer. I am a male! She chuckled slightly to herself, then stopped and sighed. Neithawen laid them back on the bed and slipped off her dress. The leggings fit her nicely, although they were a little tight around the hips. They were a soft fabric, very pleasant to the touch. Next she picked up the brown undershirt, which was made of the same material. It fit very well. There was only one problem. Her breasts were a very obvious statement that she was a girl. She picked up the pouch containing her medical supplies and pulled out an extra long piece of cloth. This she wound around her chest until her breasts seemed like muscles. Picking up the shirt again, she pulled it over her head. She tucked it in to the leggings and picked up the light green overshirt. Now this goes with my complexion, she thought, and giggled softly. Over the green shirt she put her fighting gear, such as her sword belt, her quiver with the swan design on the back, and her leather armguards. Neithawen stepped in front of the mirror once more. Her appearance was very masculine, yet young. She thanked Elbereth for her good fortune and smiled. Starting to turn away from the mirror, she looked down. The fallen hair at her feet glistened in the pale moonlight. She gathered it up in her hands and wondered what she should do with it. If she left it in the room, an attendant might find it and her efforts would be for naught. Neithawen had an idea. She stuffed the hair into a pouch, and slung the strap over her shoulder. I shall bury it in the garden under the trees. No one will find it there. She left her room and headed for the gardens for the second time that night. Yet again when she arrived out in the garden she was not alone. Legolas was there still, sweetly singing, tossing petals of flowers into the wishing pond. Neithawen froze in her tracks, the bag full of hair slung over her shoulder. Legolas stopped singing and glanced up. Oh no, Im finished, she thought. But she kept very still anyway. Legolas eyes scanned the shrubbery around them, and his eyes slid calmly over the place where she stood. Thank Elbereth, she thought. I must be more careful. Legolas turned back to the fountain again, and resumed his song. Neithawen stood perfectly still and thought. She couldnt find a way to distract him long enough to make him leave. So shed just have to confront him. Neithawen drew in a deep breath and exhaled, coming from behind the bushes. Hello, she said, dropping her voice as low as sounded realistic. I am called Teleadan. I have come from a remote place in Eriador where not many of our kind dwell. I heard of your war, and I stole away from my home to help your efforts. I wondered if you could tell me where to find the one who is in charge. Neithawen was amazed at how different she seemed, even to herself, than she had earlier that night, in this same place, no less. Legolas surveyed the boy. He believed this boy was about 500 years old, just barely old enough to survive on his own. Legolas couldnt explain it, but he felt a kinship toward this boy, some strange connection. He decided to take it as a sign that he must protect this Teleadan. I am in charge of new friends who wish to help. It seems you have come to the right place, and at the right time. You must have the grace of Elbereth herself, he said, smiling slightly. Oh, no, Neithawen said, I would not assume to have Elbereths grace, tis too great a gift for someone as lowly as I. She watched as Legolas looked her up and down, and she hoped that he found her to look as different as she did. Ah, well, no matter. I am called Legolas, and I am prince of this realm. My father, Thranduil, is our king. And should you choose to fight in this war, there can be no turning back. Do you understand and agree to this? Legolas recited the sentence with unwavering diligence, but Neithawen sensed a hint of boredom in his voice, as though he had said this many times before. Yes, my lord, Prince Legolas. I wish to fight. Very well, you shall be in my company. We leave tomorrow at first light. Have you a place to camp in the woods surrounding? Ah, no. Neithawen racked her brain for something that made sense and would not make Legolas suspect. I had two companions, but when we arrived, they decided theyd rather go back home, Neithawen said, thinking hard. And, they, uh, took my horse back with them. They told me that they were needed at home. Legolas thought for a moment, looking Neithawen over from head to foot, presumably to see if Teleadan was well equipped. Neithawen began to get nervous with him watching her, and she hoped he wouldnt suspect anything. All right, we shall find you a room. And we can give you a horse to ride for tomorrow, if you like. Yes, my lord, that would be good. I thank you. She tried her hardest not to smile at the slightly confused expression on his immensely beautiful face. The moonlight shone down upon him, his brows shading his eyes, making them dark pools of thought. A strong desire to kiss him again swept over her in a wave. Very well, follow me. Legolas led Neithawen up the path to the wing of spare bedrooms. He showed Neithawen into one, saying, here you are, Teleadan. We leave around first light tomorrow. It seems that you dont have much time to sleep, so I shall leave you to it. Find me in the morning, and stay near me. Goodnight, my friend. Legolas smiled in hospitality. But behind the smile lurked suspicion. As Legolas walked away from the door, he felt an odd sensation. He knew, in his heart, that hed seen this young man before. But he just couldnt tell where. And he had a feeling that Teleadan was lying. If Legolas had seen him before, it would not have been in Eriador, for Legolas had never been so far to the West. We shall see what happens when were on the road. Mayhap I shall find something then. Neithawen watched until Legolas was out of visual range, and as soon as she could hear his footsteps no longer, she stole from the doorway of the room and headed to her own. When she arrived, she hastily packed her things into her knapsack, everything that she would be taking, and was about to leave the room when she suddenly saw the blue scarf that she had found in the laundry lying on a stand near the door. She picked it up, feeling the smooth and soft texture of the fabric. Something pulled at her to bring it with her, though she knew not why. Why not? she asked herself. So she pushed it into the bag with the rest of her belongings, and, throwing it over her shoulder to join the bag that still contained the remains of her hair, walked out the door and down the corridor to her new room. |
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