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Untamed Tales 4 - The Tattoo	By : Mel99Moe Category: -Fourth Age to Modern times and beyond > General Views: 1107 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or places of Lord of the Rings/Tolkien. No money is being made. This is for personal enjoyment only.

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Untamed Tales - The Tattoo, Chapter 1

Rhavaniel and Antien sat quietly in the library. It was not as grand as the one back in their home of Mirkwood, nor was it as abundantly rich as Lord Elrond’s in Imladris. Still, it was very beautiful and held many books of all kinds. Since Ithilien had been built, many people from all over Middle-earth had settled here and made it their permanent residence. Not only elves lived here, but humans and even some dwarves. So there too were books from their races in the library.

Antien was looking over a particular book about dwarf wedding rituals. He had not seen many dwarves outside of the ones who were captured so many years ago in Mirkwood. Now they walked freely through Ithilien and he felt he wanted to get to know them better, and know about their culture. He had recently insisted that Rhavaniel do the same thing. She resisted as long as was possible, but once Antien got something stuck in his brain, there was no arguing with him.

Rhavaniel nervously thumbed through a book about dwarfish weapons. Being that Rhavaniel was a seasoned warrior, she obviously picked this book, but she was hardly paying any attention to it. Her mind was far from here now. You see, in two days she would marry Prince Legolas, Lord of North Ithilien. Some might ask why she would be so nervous to marry the most handsome elf in all of Arda. She had known him since the day she was born, even shared the same begetting day, though separated by several years. They knew everything about each other, had fought, argued, despised each other, and eventually fell in love. They had bound to each other recently, without proper ceremony first, so in a sense they were already married. However, now they must claim their love for each other in front of most of Middle-earth. Rhavaniel would claim her rightful title as Princess and Lady of North Ithilien. This was something she had avoided for many countless years. It was not that she did not love Legolas enough, but that she hated titles and the responsibilities they brought. She worried about others looking at her differently, treating her better than she thought she deserved. There was no royal blood in her family, though they had been in good standing and even held employment in King Thranduil’s court in Mirkwood. Rhavaniel herself had been a royal bodyguard to Queen Arwen for a short ten years. This she was comfortable with, to stand to the side while others had their life spread out for all to see. However, it was her life that was about to be opened in front of all, and this was what made her so uptight now.

Antien peeked over the top of his book and observed Rhavaniel. She naturally wore her tan legging and leather boots, green tunic with gold embroidery and a silky white shirt underneath. The tunic laced up the front, stopping just under her bosom, which made her look quite busty. Her white shirt was unbuttoned so that her ample cleavage was very prominent. Her legs were crossed and the top leg bounced nervously. She held the book in her lap with one hand while chewing on the thumbnail of her free hand. Her long golden wavy hair covered her shoulders, as she no longer wore her warrior braids. She was flipping the pages faster than Antien knew it took her to read a paragraph. Rhavaniel was only going through the motions and he knew she was thinking about the ceremony.

“Have you found out anything interesting about dwarfish weapons?” Antien asked from the couch across from where Rhavaniel sat. She did not answer, but continued to flip page after page, staring a hole through the book. When he could not gain her attention, Antien left the couch where he sat and went to her. He grabbed the book and yanked it from her hands.

“Hey! I was reading that,” she said rather perturbed.

“Alright, then tell me about the different styles of dwarf axes and what they are used for,” Antien insisted.

Rhavaniel glared at him, but remained silent. Antien did the same while waiting for an answer. Then she sighed loudly while rolling her eyes. “Why must I contend with your latest project? I am not interested in learning about dwarf culture right now, Antien. If I want to know something, I’ll ask Gimli, though I’m sure I’ll get the long answer.”

“Well, someone is in a mood today,” Antien said under his breath.

“I am two days away from claiming my new title,” she said with a slightly raised voice. “I think I am entitled to any mood I choose. You do not know the pressure I am under. When you bound to Glandur, you did not have all of Middle-earth come to see you swear an oath to an entire kingdom.”

Antien plopped down in the chair she was sitting in. He wiggled his hips forcing her to scoot over as he squeezed in beside her. He put a hand on her bobbing knee, which was still crossed over the other. His touch was very soothing as he gave her a little squeeze. He didn’t say a word but only looked at her with his hazel eyes, batting his eyelashes at her. Rhavaniel could not resist him when he looked like this, a poor lonely homeless puppy.

“Antien, you know--,” she started but was interrupted.

“Sweetling, everything will be alright. Legolas loves you. He always has. Nothing is going to change,” he said with his adorable smile, instantly calming Rhavaniel. “Well, some things will change,” he said, suddenly looking a little concerned. “I mean, you will have maids and other palace workers waiting on you. And then there are dignitaries that will visit that you will have to entertain, especially when Legolas is away or something. Oh, and let’s not forget--.”

“You’re not helping, Antien,” she said dryly as she pushed his hand from her knee.

“Look, do you think it was that easy to bond to Glandur? I may not have claimed a throne, but there were many things to consider. I remember thinking how simple it would be to confess our love and bind in the eyes of the Valar. Glandur was the one who made me realize some of the things I would be giving up.” Antien paused, staring into the distance before his eyes dropped to the floor as he remembered their ‘talk’. “I thought he was trying to get rid of me at first, you know . . . change my mind, but he was only looking out for my well-being.” He brought his attention back to Rhavaniel. “Legolas adores you. You know that. And the people of Imladris love you too. You are their warrior Princess, the first and maybe the last. No other elleth can claim the same. You have nothing to fear. There is no doubt that your life is about to get a little hectic, but you have Legolas . . . and you have me.”

Rhavaniel smiled and laid her head on Antien’s shoulder. “I am so lucky to have you. Thank you for this, but next time just come out and say what you need to say and spare me a day of reading about dwarves.”

“What?” Antien said pretending to be shocked. “I was only trying to . . .”

The look Rhavaniel shot him said she didn’t believe a word. “Alright, I’ll admit it was supposed to be a diversion. I know how well you have gotten to know Gimli over the past few years. I thought it would distract you from all of this.”

“A herd of wild stallions could not distract me from this upcoming day,” she teased.

“No, of course not, not my Rhav. But there is one thing that might alleviate your worried mind if only for one evening,” Antien said with a crooked smile and a raised eyebrow.

A devilish grin spread across Rhavaniel’s face. “Aye my friend, a visit to The Hollowed Leg. It’s been quite some time since we frequented that haunt.”

“I think this is just the right occasion for such a visit,” Antien said then looked down at her open blouse. “Don’t you think you ought to change first?”

Rhavaniel looked down at her cleavage. “What is wrong with the way I am dressed?” she said offended.

“You are about to become the Lady of North Ithilien,” Antien countered making his point.

“Two days, Antien, and not a minute sooner. This may very well be my last time out of the palace for quite some time and the ladies want one last look around,” she said as her hands came up to cup her breasts.

Antien burst into a fit of laughter. “Oh for Eru’s sake, Rhav. Well, tuck the ‘girls’ in and let’s be on our way then.”

* * *

It was a busy night at the tavern, busier than usual. Rhavaniel and Antien entered the bar and had a look around. Music filled the place. Two fiddlers were battling it out with their instruments in a lively tune. A good number of people stood at the base of the stage, encouraging them to play each round faster than the one before.

Along the right wall was a crowd of men playing a game of Ringing the Bull. The stuffed head of a bull with a metal hook sticking out of its nose hung on the wall. Hanging from the ceiling a few feet from the bull’s head, was a string with a golden ring tied to it. The object of the game was to toss the ring onto either the bulls horns or its nose. The men took turns throwing the ring. Each one had a mug of beer in their hands, laughing and teasing each other.

In the very back of the tavern was a group of dwarves playing a game of Puff and Dart. Each dwarf held a hollow tube in which a dart was inserted. On the wall was a round board that looked very much like a practice target, only smaller. They watched as a rather young dwarf stuffed a dart into his tube, lifted it to his mouth, and aimed at the board. Then he took a deep breath and blew the dart out of the tube. It came very close to hitting the center circle.

There was one other game, this one on the left side of the bar, Frog in Hole. A group of young elves was playing. Essentially, it was a table that looked like a box, with a hole cut out in the middle. There was a circle drawn around the hole. Each player held four small black wooden disks and took turns tossing them. Scoring was easy. If the disk landed inside the drawn circle, it was worth one point. If it landed in the circle and any part of the disk hung over the hole, it was worth two points. If the disk went through the hole, it was worth three points. The elves took turns tossing their disks. After each round, the one with the least amount of points was out of the game. If there was a tie for last place, they had a ‘toss off’ in which the winner went on to the next round with the others.

“Oh Antien, it has been years since I played this game. Let’s see if we can join,” she cooed to her best friend.

“This game is too easy Rhav. I say we introduce ourselves to those men over there,” he said pointing to the right. “Remember, it will be good for you to intermingle with different races, especially after you marry Legolas and become --.”

“Don’t say it Antien. You do not have to constantly remind me of my new position in Ithilien. Now let’s just have some fun tonight, shall we?”

“Good,” Antien said smiling. “Then Ringing the Bull it is!”

Rhavaniel rolled her eyes and followed Antien, who was already a few strides away from her. They walked up to where the group of men stood, waiting their turn to throw the ring.

“Good evening friends,” Antien said cheerfully. “Care to let us join your game?”

The men turned to look at Antien, but did not answer right away. These were off duty Gondorian guards come to Ithilien for their reprieve. They were what Antien once heard Faramir refer to as ‘men’s men’. They were rough and tough, completely opposite of Antien, who was quite beautiful for a male elf. The men seemed a little uncomfortable in his presence. Antien didn’t seem to mind and just gave them a friendly smile.

“Well?” he said waiting for an answer.

The men mumbled and grumbled, looking at one another. Then Rhavaniel finally walked up next to Antien. There she stood in her tan leggings and tunic cinched tightly around her midsection. The tops of her breasts were still pushed up and exposed from earlier. Of course, the men’s eyes all went to that very spot and one by one, smiles spread across their weathered faces.

“What’s it gonna be boys? Anyone up for a game with a couple elves?” she boasted. Rhavaniel was never timid in front of anyone, no matter who they were.

Immediately, the men all agreed at once to let them join their game. Some stepped aside to let Rhavaniel in first. Others were almost drooling, as their sight remained trained on her cleavage. She gave them each a saucy smile and the men were like putty. Antien rolled his eyes. The night was still young and there was no telling what would happen.

Rhavaniel stepped up and grabbed the ring swinging from the string. She held it in her fingers and closed one eye, lining up her shot. One of the Gondorians, a very young one, stepped up beside her.

“Would the lady like me to show her how to properly hold and aim the ring?” he said rather boldly.

Some of the other men laughed under their breath, but the oldest one, a man who looked to be in his forties, patted the young man on the shoulder as he spoke to Rhavaniel. “You must excuse my young friend here.” Then he addressed the younger. “Perhaps you are not aware of whom you speak to. This is the Lady Rhavaniel of the woodland realm of Mirkwood. She has fought at Helm’s Deep as well as the Black Gate along with our reigning King Elessar. She has killed more Orcs than you have flies in your short lifetime. I do not think she needs your advice on how to toss a ring onto a hook.”

At this, the young man’s eyes widened. “Beg your pardon, my lady. I did not mean to --.”

“Tis quite alright. Actually, it is nice to know there are still some who do not recognize me,” she said as she turned to Antien. “Those days will end before too long.”

They played their game, the loser having to buy the next round of drinks. The men ordered ale, but Antien and Rhavaniel had a glass of wine each. It was a rather enjoyable time, playing with these men of Gondor, but soon the elves tired of the game. They excused themselves and moved on to mingle with other people in the bar.

Next, they walked over to where the dwarves played their dart game. They stood by and watched the dwarves’ strategy before asking to join. Rhavaniel spoke, inviting them to a challenge. Two of the older dwarves wrinkled their noses at playing with an elf, and a female at that, but it was the two younger dwarves that talked the others into letting Rhavaniel and Antien play.

Rhavaniel noticed how each of the dwarves wore cloaks of a different color. None of them seemed too much into introductions, so she identified them by color. Red and Blue were the two older dwarves, obviously still not thrilled at having to intermingle with elves. Green and Purple were the younger dwarves that seemed ready to accept her challenge whether they were elves or not. Gold and Burgundy were the quiet ones that just went along with the decisions of the majority.

Red spoke up after Rhavaniel and Antien were invited to play. “They haven’t any tubes. You must have your own tube to shoot with. There’s no sharing in this game,” he said grumpily.

Rhavaniel saw his point. No one wanted to blow a dart through someone else’s tube. Then Green dwarf smiled and spoke up. “I have an extra one in my bag. It is clean and has not been used if the elf lady would care to use it.”

“Why thank you. I believe I will take it,” Rhavaniel said as she watched Green dig through his bag. He pulled out the extra dart tube and a dart to go with it. Then he looked over at Antien who seemed to be watching closely.

“I’m afraid I don’t have one for you, but perhaps someone else does,” Green said looking at his companions hopefully. Red and Blue ignored him, of course. Gold and Burgundy started to search their bags until Blue shot them a look of scorn and they stopped what they were doing. Purple only shrugged his shoulders, knowing full well he had no extra darts.

“That’s quite alright,” Rhavaniel said as she bumped shoulders with Antien. “We don’t mind sharing.”

All the dwarves mumbled and glanced at one another in disgust of the idea. Rhavaniel laughed. “He is my brother,” she said trying to justify why they would share the same blow dart. They were not really related, but close enough to be considered so. Red and Blue still mumbled behind their beards. The rest thought nothing of it.

They were about to started their game, the dwarves going by age (oldest to youngest), and the elves going last, when Red paused. “Well, what are we playing for?”

“Why drinks of course,” said Purple, sounding as if he was grinning behind that big bushy beard. “Dwarfish ale to be certain.” He winked at the elves.

Antien looked at Rhavaniel, not sure if this was a good idea or not, but he knew she would not pass up a challenge. “Loser buys a round?” she asked.

Red crinkled his eyes at her. “Loser pays for *her* own . . . and drinks from this,” he said putting emphasis on the word. He picked up an extra tall pewter mug and brought it down heavily on the table. Antien’s eyes widened. Rhavaniel kept her coolness about her. She could tell the lead dwarf expected her to back out of the challenge. Antien could only pray that she would, but knew better of her.

“Accepted,” she said with a cheeky grin. Antien sighed and rolled his eyes once more.

With the wager set and the challenge accepted, the dwarves went about preparing for the game. Antien elbowed his best friend, a worried look on his face. “Don’t you think you’ve bitten off a little more than you can chew?” he whispered anxiously. “Even you, oh mighty warrior Princess --.”

“Do not call me Princess in front of the dwarves,” she said sternly and gave him a look that could have downed a troll. “Now buck up and let’s get on with this.” Rhavaniel flashed him a wicked grin. “We have some dwarves to best.”
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Untamed Tales 4 - The Tattoo