Of Firwen and Eldanur

Several days later, Lord Elessar held a feast to welcome some of Legolas’ kin who had come to Ithilien to help with it’s regrowth. Firwen valiantly attempted to be somewhere else, as she had a suspicion a certain someone would be there. Alas, her entreaties were in vain. Her sisters and mother cornered her, and forced her to endure while they combed her hair into plaits and found a suitable dress. Firwen did not make it easy for them, however. Finally, the little procession emerged down at the courtyard.
Firwen was forced to the front with other members of the family and her fathers counsel. She glanced around, trying half-heartedly to look like she actually enjoyed being there, and melted silently into the background of the empty hall.
Soon, however, the hall filled with people, laughing and talking with the newcomers, and Firwen dared to venture out from where she had been standing, half-concealed behind a tapestry. Chancing a quick glance around, she did not see a trace of – what was his name? – Eldanur, and emerged into the crowd.

It was near the end of the feast when Firwen suddenly felt as if she were being watched. Glancing up in alarm, she encountered Eldanur’s grey-blue eyes, studying her intently. He nodded gravely at her, and Firwen, seething, coldly turned her back. She hurriedly made her excuses to her mother and left the hall. She didn’t realize he had followed her till she felt his hand on her shoulder.
“What?,” Firwen snapped, without turning around.
“ Why do you dislike me so, my Lady?” His voice was low, so as not to be heard. Firwen did not stop walking.
“Whoever said I dislike you?”
“With all due respect – you did, Lady.” Though he sounded quite humble, Firwen could hear subtle undercurrents of annoyance. She stopped walking to give him a curious walk and resumed her furious pace.
“Not with words, Lady, but with your actions and manner. What have I done to earn your contempt? Or do you simply hate my entire race?”
“I do not hate your entire race, at least, I do not hate the ones who do not spy on me!”
“Spying?” He sounded hurt now. “ Lady, there are many things I may have done in my life, but I swear to you by Iluvatar himself, I was not spying on you!”
Utterly exasperated, Firwen whirled around.
“Well, if you weren’t spying, what where you doing?”
“I had the same idea as you, M’lady. I wished to swim, that was all.” Firwen gaped at him. She could have smacked herself. She had been cruel to someone who had done nothing to deserve her treatment, simply because she had believed something wrong.
“And, if I may be so bold as to offer your Ladyship some advice, I would recommend not being utterly contemptuous of a person until you have found all of the facts of the matter. The way you are currently behaving makes you seem like a two-year-old.” It was not an insult, merely a gentle rebuke from one who has seen someone behaving badly and knows a way they could improve. With that, he turned and walked off, leaving Firwen to run to her room in tears of shame.

Several minutes – or it could have been hours for all the distraught maiden knew – Lady Undomiel knocked softly on Firwen’s door. There was a scuffling noise, then a soft voice called “Come in.” The second Arwen entered, she knew something was wrong with her eldest daughter. There was no sign of tears, but all one had to do was look at Firwen’s eyes to know that something was wrong.
“What troubles you, my daughter?” Arwen perched beside her daughter on the bed. Firwen buried her face in her mother’s shoulder and cried softly.