To Dream – Ch18: The Plots Thicken

by Sep 18, 2003Stories

Things you need to know about this story…
1.) Elven dreams are very realistic
2.) Elves shouldn’t normally meet *real* people along the Olórë Mallë (Path of Dreams)… but something happens in this story that is not normal

Names/Pronunciations will come at the end of each chapter.
`*’ signals a footnote

A/N: Please forgive me for taking so long to update. I have started my first year of college and things are pretty crazy. I will try to be more diligent about writing this story, but if it comes down to it, the homework will have to take precedence… oh the injustice of life…


Chapter 18.) The Plots Thicken

“I am the tender voice calling… Whispering between the beatings of the heart,”
– George William Russell

Time: Two weeks after the last chapter.

Elladan stifled a groan. He had been sitting in the same dreadfully boring meeting, listening to the monotonous drone of Lord Beledhel’s voice for almost an hour now. It was no use: he could not keep his mind focused on what was being said. After all, he had nothing to contribute to the debate; he was there only for the sake of protocol.

His thoughts began to drift toward a certain elf-maiden of Lorien. Just thinking about her brought a smile to his face. Elladan was still in the wonderfully dizzy state of newfound love, and hoped desperately that he would never have to recover.

He had asked his father two weeks ago for approval to court Oloriel. The elleth {she-elf} had been adamant on this point, believing that Elrond would somehow disapprove of her low-birth. Of course, Elladan knew that his father would not care who her parents were, but he asked for his blessing none-the-less. Elrond had been cautious in his answer, but not discouraging. Having never met the girl he simply wanted to know more about her. With this goal in mind, Elrond had sent a message to the Lady Galadriel, his mother-in-law, to glean more information concerning the maiden who might one day be his daughter-in-law. The answer was expected to arrive any day now.

Elladan fidgeted with the hem of his robes in excitement. He knew that a carrier pigeon had flown in from the south that morning. It had to have come from LothLorien. Of course, the pigeon flew in just as he was on his way to the council that morning, and there was no way that he could have found out what message it brought without being late for the meeting. Elladan tried to muffle a frustrated growl as he thought of his misfortune. The elf lord sitting next to him raised a questioning eyebrow, but did not comment.

Elladan slumped deeper into his chair, not caring any more about good Elven posture. He did not think he could take much more of this insipid gathering. But, just when he felt that he had reached his limit, he was rescued from utter monotony by the soft presence of Oloriel’s mind seeping gently into his thoughts.

He smiled softly. This touching of minds had been growing more frequent, and no longer did the sensation startle him.

//Mae aur, melamin {good morning, my love}//, he reached out to her with his mind, trying hard to hide his amusement as he felt her consternation.

//I had thought to sneak up on you, but I suppose I’ll never be able to that. How did you know I was here?//

His mental laughter wafted through her mind as he replied //Your presence is such a refreshing contrast against my own that it’s rather hard to miss…like a cool sea breeze.//

Oloriel’s voice sounded rather awed as she questioned him further. //Have you actually seen the sea?//

//Yes… When I said good-bye to my mother.//

Oloriel’s mind shrank back from him a little, as if the words had struck her. //Oh, I am sorry Elladan. I did not mean to bring up unpleasant memories.//

//No, it’s alright. I know that I shall see her again someday, when I travel to Valinor… I just wish that my sister could see her again as well.//

There was silence for a moment. Elladan had spoken much of his sister, and Oloriel knew how much he cared for her. She also knew of Arwen’s love of a mortal, which would keep her from answering the call of the sea. //I’m sure she does also. But… but you know that Arwen would fade, were she to be taken away from her love.//

//Aye, I know it well. Now that I have tasted love for myself I know what drives my sister. I do not think that I would last very long either, were I to be kept from you.//

Elladan’s eyes took on a merry glow as he felt a ripple of shy modesty pulse out from Oloriel. She was not at all accustomed to being flattered, and still blushed delightfully at his small shows of affection. He might not be able to see her, but he could still imagine how she must look, head bent down in dismay at the warmth was blooming on her cheek.

//Nor I you…//, she whispered hesitantly. Beyond saying that she loved him, Oloriel was still not quite at home with a lover’s vernacular. It had been many long years since she had opened up her heart and mind so fully to another individual, and it took some getting used to. But she did try to speak her heart, and this time the effort was amply rewarded by the surge of contentment that swelled from her beloved and engulfed her in its warm embrace.

//It’s settled then… we’ll just have to stick together.//

Oloriel could feel him smiling as he said it and could not help smiling merrily herself. //Not that we have much choice// she quipped, //trapped in each other’s minds as we are.//

Elladan chuckled. //Yes. Isn’t that convenient?//

Elladan stopped chuckling abruptly as he momentarily came back to reality, noticing that all eyes were now trained on him, and that Lord Beledhel had stopped talking. Casting a furtive glance around the council room, he sat up straight in his chair and cleared his throat softly. “Ahem… um, pardon me, Lord Beledhel… ah, please continue.”

Once Elladan had convinced everyone in the council that he was indeed paying attention to the oration, he went right back to conversing with his love. Oloriel teased him merrily about letting his mind wander while he should be attending to important business, but in truth was thrilled to get him back. They had never before been able to communicate for so long while awake, but neither one was about to complain – they would take whatever they could get.


Írima rolled her eyes slightly as she watched Oloriel’s retreating form. The two of them had gone out earlier that morning to gather apples from outside the city gate and were now returning. Oloriel walked ahead with a brimming basket on her arm and a light spring in her step. This situation itself would not have caused Írima a moment’s thought, but add to it the fact that Oloriel had been humming nameless tunes all morning and walking around with a ridiculous grin on her face and you can see why Írima was slightly exasperated. Something was up, but try as she may Írima could not get two words of sense from the she-elf to illuminate the situation.

Írima’s confusion grew as the light sound of bubbling laughter came to her from up ahead on the path. Her brows furrowed slightly. Did she just hear Oloriel giggle? This day was getting stranger by the moment…


Oloriel smiled brightly as she wended down the forest path, a basket of apples on her arm. She could feel Írima’s consternation, but had no intention of easing her friend’s curiosity – keeping this delicious secret to herself was proving to be far too enjoyable for that. But also, how could she tell Írima that the reason she was so distracted was because she was carrying on a conversation with an elf who wasn’t there; that, indeed, she had been talking with him for over an hour already? Írima would think that she had gone mad!

//I think that I am worrying Írima to distraction.// Oloriel told Elladan cheekily //She can’t stand a mystery, and with the way that I have been acting all morning she knows that something is up.//

//Írima?// Elladan felt like he should know who that was. //Ah yes, that is your friend who has the child, correct? Where else have I heard that name?…//

//Yes. Írima is my good friend. But I can’t imagine where else you could have heard her name; I don’t think that she has done anything of renown to mark a place in one of your father’s lore books.//

//But I know I’ve heard it somewhere else… Oh, I remember! Does your friend happen to have any kin living in Mithlond* – perhaps a sister?// Elladan inquired.

Oloriel thought for a moment and then grinned wickedly. She would confound Írima further this day. Turning around on the path she called back to her friend. “Írima, does your sister or any other of your kin dwell in the north, at Mithlond?”

Írima looked at Oloriel as if she had sprouted a second head. `Why on earth would she want to know that?’ she wondered. Finally she decided that she was tired of trying to discern her friend’s mood and simply answered the question with a sigh. “Yes, dear heart, I have family in Mithlond; most notably, my eldest sister, Melwakú and her family. Though last I heard they were feeling the call of the sea, and may have departed by now.”

Oloriel smiled her thanks then silently replied to Elladan. //Last she heard, her sister Melwakú was still dwelling in Mithlond with her own family. But she may have recently sailed to Valinor.//

Elladan was delighted at this coincidence. He had heard Nessúlë mention the name of her aunt several times, but had never made the connection. //And would it surprise you to know that Melwakú’s children are now residing in Imladris, and that they hope to travel to LorhLorien soon?//

Oloriel almost choked on the apple she was eating. //Really? I’m sure that Írima will be pleased!//

//Well then, by all means tell her. I must go now – my father has summoned me. I think that it is about a message he received from LothLorien this morning. Hopefully it will hold good news for us.//

Oloriel smiled excitedly. Elladan’s continued insistence had put her to ease concerning his father’s approval of her, but nevertheless, a final word on the matter would set her a good deal more at ease.

//Go to him then// she whispered //I will speak with you tonight.//

With those words their link faded and Oloriel was left with an annoyed Írima and a basket full of apples.

“I know something you don’t know,” she called back to her friend.

`That does not surprise me,” Írima shot back. “You are full of secrets this morning.”

“Aye, but this secret concerns you… Your sister’s children will be in LothLorien before too many months have passed. If they are anywhere near as delightful as you I shall look forward to meeting them.” Oloriel grinned at Írima, whose face wore an utterly bewildered expression, and began laughing heartily. `I am sorry for teasing you so. One day I will tell you everything you want to know.”

With that, Oloriel twirled off down the path, taking a childlike joy in the feel of the grass beneath her feet and the warmth of the sun on her face.


“The Valar help me! I am this close to committing a third kinslaying*!” Lantél burst into Alarkelú’s room, his thumb and forefinger pressed together to show just how close he really was to perpetrating homicide.

Alarkelú and Elrohir looked up simultaneously from a game of chess and threw him questioning glances. When no clarification was forthcoming, Elrohir turned back to the chess bored and surveyed the results of his latest `brilliant’ strategy. Shrugging his shoulders he looked up at Lantél.

“I may just help you with that,” Elrohir replied nonchalantly. “I thought myself to be fairly good at chess until Alarkelú came along. If he defeats me one more time I may be forced to take some desperate measures.”

Alarkelú just smiled complacently then addressed Lantél as well. “Who has wronged your honor this time, young one? You cannot take every slight so seriously.”

Lantél bristled. “I am not so foolish as to take offense at every harmless slur against my own character. But I was not the one being dishonored.”

“Who then?” inquired Elrohir.

“My sister.”

Elrohir sat up straighter. Someone would dare to insult Nessúlë? “Who has done this?” he demanded, standing up and almost knocking over his chair.

Lantél’s eyes narrowed as he spat out the answer. “Hallandakil.”

“Surely Hallandakil would not be so foolish as to stain your sister’s honor?” Alarkelú questioned calmly.

Lantél sighed. “You are correct, he has not stained her honor – at least not in so many words. It is his manner that offends. He speaks of her with a degree of familiarity and suggestion that is entirely repulsive.”

`What has he done?” demanded Elrohir. He could not yet admit that he was falling in love with the girl, but neither could he deny that he cared for her. The thought of Hallandakil taking any liberties of manner where Nessúlë was concerned made his blood run hot.

“I overheard him boasting to two other elves in the stable this afternoon that, if he had the mind to do it, he could have Nessúlë falling at his feet by the end of the week. But then he said that he wouldn’t take her anyway because she was as cold and wild as the sea that she was named after*. He then went on to say that, though he could break her in if he so wished, he would rather have his mares come to him willingly.” Lantél grimaced as he spoke the words, as if they themselves held an unpleasant flavor. “I cannot believe his insolence,” he stormed, “he compared my sister to a mare! Doubtless he would wish to saddle her in the fashion of the second-born* and lead her around with a sharp bit in her mouth as well. Amin feuya ten’ro {He disgusts me}!”

Elrohir’s visage had darkened visibly. “I always knew Hallandakil was a fool when it came to women, but this is intolerable. What did you do?”

Lantél sighed heavily. “Nothing. What could I do? I am a guest in your father’s house. I cannot go around mauling his citizens, no matter what the offense.”

Alarkelú spoke up, his eyes glinting dangerously. “It is true that you should not act rashly, but that does not mean that Hallandakil’s behavior should go unpunished. He may not have said anything specifically against your sister’s honor, but he has not acted like a gentleman.”

“I agree,” Elrohir cast in his lot. “We have to do something.”

“I am more than willing to make him pay.” Lantél admitted. “Shall we go to your father first and see what recourse we have?”

Elrohir grinned satisfactorily. “No, that won’t be necessary. I can speak for my father.”


“I think that the pupil may one day out-strip the teacher,” Kallindo cried jovially as Oloriel went to retrieve her arrows. The elleth smiled cheerfully under the praise. The bow was, without doubt, her preferred weapon. She enjoyed wielding her long knives, but her skill with them would never equal her good aim.

Kallindo let his eyes stray over Oloriel’s form while her back was turned. Her stance and figure had changed over the past few months, taking on a warriors poise and alertness, enhancing the litheness of her form. When sufficiently provoked she could turn from a playful kitten into a sleek cat waiting to pounce. Kallindo found that he liked the change. Oloriel had always had an independent streak in her nature, but it had only ever been a hidden possibility. Now it was beginning to become a reality; bearing fruit in the deadly aim of her arrows and the graceful arc of her blade.

Their training sessions together had been going on smoothly and comfortably for the past two weeks, and Kallindo was gaining more and more confidence in his dealings with her. When she had turned from him the first time he tried to kiss her, he thought that his chance with her was over, but her behavior since then had restored his hope. She had never shunned him, as he expected her to, and over the past couple of weeks she had been positively glowing with happiness. He could not be absolutely sure of what caused this joy in her, but he decided that it couldn’t be a bad sign. All in all, he felt that his prospects were rather good. Having decided this several days ago, he had begun to formulate a plot in his mind. He had to approach Oloriel again, tell her of his love; but he had to do it right this time. There was no room for error.

Kallindo smiled as he anticipated putting his plan into action. Oloriel had gathered her arrows and was coming back to where he stood.

“Is that all for today?” she inquired. “The sun has dipped below the mountain peaks and my stomach is telling me that it is time for supper.”

Kallindo nodded agreeably. “Yes, that will be all for today. But before you go I would like to ask you something.”

Oloriel turned back to him with a questioning glance, and Kallindo continued. “You have improved much of late. I was wondering if you would like to try your hand at patrol duty. You would not be a full member of the guard and would have to be under my supervision, but it might give you some valuable experience. What do you say?”

Oloriel’s face brightened. She enjoyed new experiences, and this was certainly something she had never tried. “I would love to, Kallindo. I am flattered that you think me ready for such a venture.”

“It is only what you deserve,” Kallindo replied warmly. “Um… I am off tomorrow night. Would you like to, uh… why don’t I take you out to the northern border tomorrow evening and show you around a bit? It will be useful to know the area before you take up a watch.”

Oloriel thought about it for a moment, but could not think of a reason why she could not accept his offer. “Thank you Kallindo, that would be lovely. When will we have to leave?”

“We shall leave two hours after the mid-day meal. If we ride swiftly we shall be able to reach the northern border while there is still light to see by.”

“Very well; I shall be ready. Until then.” Oloriel picked up the rest of her gear and wandered off toward her flet.

Kallindo watched her go with satisfaction. Things were running exactly according to plan.


Elrohir, Lantél, and Alarkelú exchanged sly grins.

“It’s settled then – we have a plan.” Alarkelú said with a crafty glint in his eye.

Lantél grinned. `It’s perfect. After this, Hallandakil will think twice before he dares to even speak my sister’s name.”

“Aye,” Elrohir concurred. “He won’t know what hit him.”


1. The Silmarillion documents two `kin-slayings’, where elves took up arms against other elves.
2. The Grey Havens.
3. Nessúlë’s second name is Ëarwen: `sea maiden’
4. `Second-born’ refers to the race of men. Unlike men, elves do not need a saddle and bridle to ride a horse.

Things to Know:

Oloriel: `dream daughter’
elleth: `she-elf’
Írima: `lovely, desriable’
Lantél: `shooting star’
Alarkelú: `swift stream’
Nessúlë Ëarwen: `young spirit/sea maiden’
Hallandakil: `tall victor’

Big Question: Would you guys prefer shorter chapters that come more frequently or longer chapters that come less frequently?

***Sorry guys, no prize-incentives this time. But next chapter there will be another `Win a Cute Elf Raffle’. Stay tuned… and review!!!***


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Found in Home 5 Reading Room 5 Stories 5 To Dream – Ch18: The Plots Thicken

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