What it looked like to Melost was that trouble was brewing. He strode purposely the the corridors, unable to think or to notice the beauty and tranquility of Elrond's home until he reached Anwenelme's chamber. He knocked on the richly carved door harder than he had intended and a delicate-looking Elf-maid timidly opened the door for him, her eyes wide with curiosity and interest. He nodded stiffly to her and asked that he be announced to the Lady Anwenelme at once. She curtsied and smiled prettily, dimples appearing to frame an already beautiful mouth.
Melost shook his head as though to lcear it. "What am I thinking? She's only a maid-servant!" "Be quick, girl! I have no time to dally, I must see her at once!" She dipped her head, then left the roomher back stiff with indignation. After a few moments had passed, Anwenelme appeared and he gazed at her, his heart tight with pain and doubt. She stood still and look him look at her, though she was curious. Why was he so reticent about approaching her?
"Melost, come to me...come here and kiss me!" She extended her hand, the hand she had given to Arthain only a very short while beforehand. He felt sick at heart as he took her hand. then pulled her close and kissed her hard as though to show her...or perhaps himself, that she was his and his alone. She drew back, astonished. "Melost! You would make so free with me before we wed?" In those words he heard the echo of Menelya's sense of decorum and propriety, yet he had felt the fire in her kiss....and he hated himself for what must be said.
He took her by the shoulders and looked into her eyes. "I saw you with Arthain, sitting with him on one of the benches. You were talking and as you left, he kissed your hand. Tell me why my dearest friend would to this with my betrothed." She could not mistake the pain and suppressed jealousy in his voice. She stepped gracefully away from him and laughted lightly. "Come now, Melost. Is he not close to you, is he not important to you? Then I must treat him in the same manner, for I would not bring you shame." Anwenelme turned again to him, as though a thought had just occurred to her. "Surely you aren't angrymy love? You are an Elf, an immortal! What can this mortal possibly mean to me?"
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