Becoming Aredhel

Chapter Seven- The Melody of Forgotten Memories

Elladan's POV

"You have never had such thoughts before," Elrohir comments from his seat across from my bed.

I throw an annoyed look at him as I lie upon the bedcovers, shirtless and slicked with sweat from a morning spent at the practice fields. Glorfindel never went easy on us. He has always wanted us to be the best swordsman in Middle Earth, and he would continue sparring until we could not move a beat more. Training was brutal, even to this day.

"I told you to stay out of my head," I breathe deeply, throwing an arm over my eyes and willing away the images of Aredhel that haunt me every waking moment.

"As if I can actually do that when your thoughts are so loud," he mutters sarcastically, "But I am being serious. I am not trying to tease you."

"You are right. I have never thought of any other elleth this way. 'Tis driving me insane," I confide quietly.

Last night, I had a dream of Aredhel that was quite intense, and images of my fingers twisted through her crimson hair and lips touching her neck have not left my mind since. I have of course not been able to hide such thoughts from Elrohir. It is embarrassing, yes, but after many lifetimes of not being able to enjoy the privacy of mind that others do, I am used to it.

"Ada always told us that the bond was overwhelming," he mentions softly as he continues to scribble aimlessly in a previously empty journal.

A low, amused laugh rumbles in my chest. "Overwhelming is an understatement. I feel as if my entire world as I know it has been turned upside down."

He laughs, too. "I would have to agree with you. Aredhel has already made such a difference in you. I do not know how to describe it, and I cannot even put my finger on what exactly is different about you. But she has shaken things up around here."

"You seem very fond of her," I comment tiredly, not moving a single, sore muscle.

"I am," he replies, and I can hear the smile in his voice.

"You are not going to steal her from me?" I tease him, moving my arm away from my face and turning to look at him.

He grins. "Of course not. I have a mate out there somewhere who does not know how lucky she is."

I roll my eyes slightly. "Such a lucky elleth."

He is silent for a moment. "Aredhel has a charm about her," he says, still scribbling in his journal, "She seems to just draw people in. I noticed that Glorfindel seems to like her very much."

His words make me tense, for I had noticed the same. "What do you mean?"

He sighs quietly. "I do not know. Maybe I am just imagining things," he defends before mumbling, "I wonder if Aredhel reminds him of Daena. His wife had that same unspoken charm about her and the same shy nature. They look quite similar, as well."

"Aredhel is not Daena, and he will do well to remember it," I state firmly, and the amount of jealousy I feel takes me by surprise. I have never been the jealous type. 'Tis simply not an emotion I have ever really struggled with. But the thought of anyone fancying Aredhel has me sick with it.

The memory of them sitting in the gardens together resurfaces, and I clench my jaw. I am all too aware of how females gawk over Glorfindel. He was certainly blessed with handsome looks, and the thought of my mate possibly finding him attractive makes me irrationally upset.

"Look, I should not have said anything," Elrohir says worriedly as he feels my emotions and hears my thoughts running through my head, "I am sure it is nothing. He may just simply like her. No romantic feelings whatsoever."