If You Go into the Woods Today by oshun

Chapter 1

Read Chapter 1

If you go into the woods today.
You’re in for a big surprise.

Aredhel rolled over onto to her back, replete and relaxed, torpid with satiation. Fumbling for the cup of water she had placed on the grass next their bedroll, she almost knocked it over. She grabbed it just before it spilled and sat up to take a long swallow, before realizing how little she had left in the cup.

“I’m sorry. Do you want the rest of it? Or should I go get some more?”

Galadriel snorted, amused. "Never mind."

When Aredhel looked over at her cousin, the sight of her unadorned beauty struck her like a spear straight into her heart. The light of Laurelin filtering in through an opening in the roof of the rosy-tinted silk cloth of their tent set Galadriel’s glorious hair afire with highlights of gold, its silver all but washed away. Her high sharp cheek bones, strong jawline, long well-muscled legs, flat stomach, and only the slightest swell of incipient breasts, made Galadriel, unlike most youths, male or female, look almost more tantalizingly androgynous undressed than covered up.

“Tired?” Galadriel asked, gentler in tone than Aredhel expected.

“Yes. You wear me out.” They both giggled. Aredhel wanted nothing more than to take a nice long nap. But Galadriel always wanted to talk and talk and talk some more. Not that she was ever boring, fast with quips as well as subtler insights, affectionate and yet pointed.

Probably the most endearing thing about her only girl cousin, aside from her beautiful face and skin as soft as a baby’s behind, was that she valued—nay, treasured—Aredhel’s companionship. Everyone loves to be wanted, to have their opinions considered and appreciated. There was also the bond of camaraderie of being the only two females, as well as the youngest, among the crowd of accomplished, competitive, and arrogant second-generation princes of the Noldor.

Aredhel could hear signs—snippets of conversation and the fidgeting of Celegorm’s restless dogs—that the rest of the camp was coming back to life after an afternoon nap. Knowing their jolly band well, she judged that it would soon be time to eat again, before beginning the evening’s festivities which would, more likely than not, involve drinking, singing, dancing, and half-drunken arguments and tall tales. They would finally collapse, after a late evening’s swim or water fight, only to rouse themselves at the crack of dawn for some wild and crazy hunting expedition of doubtful merit.

“Ai! Listen to them. They are the noisiest bunch of . . . ” Galadriel paused, searching for the right word, “. . . bunch of maladroits ever.” Aredhel laughed at her less than perfect choice of vocabulary. Outside, the hounds exploded into yet another frenzy of barking and running about, until Celegorm quieted them with only a few soft words of command and a chuckle. All of the canines adored him, from solemn Huan right down to the pups who had not yet lost their milk teeth. A curse and a yelp from Caranthir echoed over a clangor of metal against metal. He apparently had dropped a cooking pot, or all of them.

‘Watch it!’ someone else shouted, unmistakably Maglor.

“Did you hear that?” Galadriel asked.

“What?”

“Macalaurë and Russo must be back.” Their oldest cousins were coming late to their adventure, having been at their grandfather Mahtan’s house when the trip had been organized. Fingon would relax and enjoy himself now that his sweetheart had returned.

“I hope they brought some wine or at least some of their grandfather Mahtan’s perry cider. I cannot tolerate another sip of that vile poison Tyelko made,” Aredhel said.

Galadriel shuddered. “Oh, I’m surprised it tastes bad to you.” She then launched into her well-polished imitation of Aredhel’s voice, with an exaggerated Tirion accent, huskier-voiced than most girls, but still managing to add the mincing cadence of a lovesick maiden. ‘Oh, everything he does is just perfect. Especially with those shoulders and that smile, not to mention the curls. And he can talk to animals too!’

“Exactly, I’m sure,” Aredhel grumbled. “I am flattered that you think I sound like that. I never said that swill tastes anything but awful.” She did not deny that she might have on the rare occasion commented on Celegorm’s shoulders or maybe even his biceps. She could not remember saying anything about his beautiful hair. But everyone noticed that, not at all like the silvery Telerin blonds or the golden Vanyarin ones, but uniquely his own, more like molten honey. ‘Prince Tyelkormo the Fair’ was the name given him by wistful girls in Tirion, referencing both his beauty and his rare light-colored hair.

Galadriel looked at her and shook her head as though she could read her mind and did not like one little bit what she had seen there. “But I am rather impressed that he figured out how to distill those berries. A little more practice and he might produce something quaffable.”

“Would you like to know what I have been considering?” Aredhel asked.

“No, but I expect you are going to tell me whether I want to hear it or not.”

“It’s true that I have been thinking about him again. A lot, actually. I’ve decided I’m going to do it. He’s gorgeous and he would never tell a soul.”

“What makes you think he would be amenable to your scheming?”

“A girl can tell.” Aredhel tried for a tone of sophistication.

“Pftt! Like you would know, with your vast experience with men.”

“So, it was fine for you, but not for me,” she snapped. That had hurt. How dare she have made such a decision without consulting her dearest friend about it first.

“I was older than that boy. There was a different balance of power. And Alqualondë is a long way from Tirion. What one does on the beach at Alqualondë is unlikely to ever reach the court. They have a more relaxed attitude about these things as well. Plus, I did not let him do everything. You know, just a lot of touching and kissing.”

“I could start with that.”

“I am not sure in Tyelkormo’s case that he would be happy to stop there. And, I have to admit, I expect he could be very persuasive. I’d wager he’s learned all kinds of things from the women he’s been with in Tirion—older women.”

That sounded like a positive asset to Aredhel. What did power have to do with love-making anyway? It was all about giving into new sensations, wasn’t it? Being willing to be daring, impulsive. She could feel her power when she was around Celegorm. He looked at her differently now and there was unmasked desire in his gaze—at least when no one else was looking. Recently, there had been a few times when she felt he was close to kissing her, but then he hadn’t. She thought perhaps he was waiting for her to make the first move. He could be a little lazy that way, inclined to let others make the hard decisions for him. It wasn’t wise to tell Galadriel that she thought he might want her even more than she wanted him. She did desperately wish to feel as though she were a woman grown, one who could make such a choice, and not a silly inexperienced girl.

“I think he would be amazing for my first.” He’s a great teacher, she thought. He’d taught her everything she knew about hunting and most of what she knew about archery and riding. He made her laugh.

“Fine. But if your father ever finds out!” The look of horror on Galadriel’s face was not entirely for dramatic effect. “And, lie to yourself all you want, sweet Irissë. No matter what you decide to do with nature boy, I will always have been your first!”

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Chapter End Notes

Names in Quenya

Aredhel - Irissë
Celegorm - Tyelkormo, Tyelko
Maglor - Macalaurë
Maedhros - Russo