Eavesdropping by hennethgalad

Chapter 1

  Aradan, whose father had named Marach, sat on a window sill of the Tower of the Valar at Barad Eithel. The walls of the tower were thick and the sill was deep enough to seat two, though Aradan, surrounded by soft cushions, was alone. The view out over the vastness of Ard-galen was stunning, and when loneliness for home took him, he loved to watch the wind ripple in the grasses. It was not often that he missed his kin, or his people. In Barad Eithel he had found all that he had dreamed of, and wonders he had never imagined. 

   But he pulled at a plait of his beard, turning an amber bead between his fingers, restless as a kitten. For his body was ripe, he sought love, urgently, and she whom his heart desired was an elf, many times older than he, whose amused flirtation had raised hopes within him that had him sleepless and fey. Wild thoughts of carrying her home to Estolad, or away, far away, South into the unknown, filled his yearning mind. He had arranged to meet her at the top of the tower, but paused at his favourite seat and decided to await her and surprise her. It was so very difficult to surprise her. He had long ceased to bring wonders to her door, crushed by her patient smile, she who had seen so much, so many many years...

   But her face ! She looked younger than he now, he was full grown indeed, his beard forked, his chest stout, his limbs thick with sinew. He sat up proudly for a moment, his chin pressed down, admiring himself... But then sagged, and bowed his head and covered his eyes with his hands. She would still be considering his worth as a suitor as he lay, an old man, on his deathbed. 

    There was laughter on the stairs, the marvellous spiralling stairs, with the words of Ainulindalë engraved in shining mithril running up the tower. He sighed again and wondered if it was her laughter. A voice came to him, it was her close friend, speaking confidentially 'But my brother says he has hair on his body too.'

   'What do you mean, hair on his body ? Does he have it plaited ? With amber beads ?' It was her ! He leaped quietly to the floor, and realised that it was him they were discussing, and froze.

   'No ! My brother says he saw it. There is hair on his chest, not the same as on his head, more like his beard, save that it never gets longer. My brother asked him. And' she lowered her voice to a whisper 'he says there is hair between his legs too.'

   'Hair between his legs ! You are jesting ! How could he walk if he had hair between his legs ?' 

    Aradan grinned and thought of the times he had had trouble walking from something else between his legs...

   'No, really, just the same as on his chest, short, curly hair, thick and crisp like the hair closest to his face.'

   There was a pause, then her lovely elven voice rose through the still air of the Tower of the Valar to her besotted suitor listening hopefully above.

   'Ew, that’s disgusting ! What are they ? Really, sometimes they seem almost like us, you know, and then you hear something like that... You do mean it, you are not teasing me ?'

   'No, not this time. It is true. But really, my dear, do you not find the beard disgusting enough ?'

   There was another pause. 'Yes. Yes of course. Only, well, it is his eyes that I see. The beard... Well, it has appeared as a cloud on the edge of the sky, but the sun is still bright !'

   Aradan put out a hand then sagged against the wall. She truly did care for him, if only a little. Her flirtation had not been wholly in jest. His heart warmed all in an instant, it was stunning. Hope, stubborn as the wind, poked at his spirit. But her friend snorted derisively.

   'Oh really... the sun... He will be dead before you have finished reading Maglor's new epic. The sun... Ha !'

   'Well, you must admit that Maglor is exhausting to read. If only someone here would, or could, sing it as it should be sung. But no, everyone who can sing is in Nargothrond. Really, I am seriously thinking of going there myself.'

   'Oh no ! You must not ! I am sure there are plenty of handsome elves here, why, my brother, for instance.'

   'Your brother is a darling, of course he is, but I've known him all my life, he feels like my brother ! Whereas Aradan is new, and interesting, and so very intense, it sends shivers down my spine.'

   Aradan clenched his fist and punched the air.

   'Oh but really, you cannot seriously tell me you could kiss that awful beard, full of bits of food, and worse... Or hair on his... Urgh.'

   'That is rude, Aradan is extremely clean !'

   'Even so, how could he get all the... all the bits out of such thick coarse hair, and on his face ! On his actual face ! All round his mouth, it’s completely disgusting.'

   There was another, longer pause. He could almost picture her beautiful face, made ugly by a grimace. 

   'You are right. I could never let that disgusting thing anywhere near my face. But he... Do you remember, a few years ago, when he was full-grown, or so we thought, and strode among our warriors, as fair and fine as any among them ? I could have loved him, had he been one of us. I would have...'

   'You did, we all did, he was magnificent ! That’s why it’s so awful about the hair, and the, well, the creases on his skin.'

   'Creases ?'

   'Are you so blinded by his eyes ? What do you see when you look at him ?'