A/N- I had a dream that Legolas proposed to me last night. I'm more than a little disturbed…
This is the first chapter in the sequel to Child of the Wood. I highly recommend that you read that first. :0) Thank you. And one reminder- Théodred is back from the dead. THIS STORY IS AU.
~Chapter One
He sat at the table across from me. He was tall and handsome but in my heart I wondered if I could really love him. My heart was frozen. I sat tall and erect as a statue carved into stone. The conversation was ridden with awkward pauses and nervous glances. I felt as if I would explode at any moment.
Legolas! My heart cried. Legolas, where are you? Come get me, please, rescue me from this hell! I'm trapped! I don't know how to get out, oh Legolas, please come soon! Please, rescue me…
Théodred cleared his throat slightly and stuck his fork into a piece of meat. His blonde hair flopped over his eyes slightly; it hadn't been trimmed in a long time. Stubble crossed his cheeks like shadows, although he didn't have beard or mustache yet. His eyes were clear and blue and searching. I wondered if he could see the pain in my eyes and I hoped it didn't show. Éowyn sat next to her cousin and looked at me with a pitying glaze. A small feeling of relief crept into my heart. Throughout the pain of this whole ordeal, at least I had a melon, a friend.
Théodred reached for his wine glass and took a sip. His hands were big and calloused from a lifetime of riding horses. He saw me looking at them and smiled slightly, though it was an uneasy smile. "Do you like horses?" he asked.
"I love horses," I whispered. "I had one at home."
"In Lothlórien?" he asked.
"Yes," I said.
"I've never been there," said Théodred, his brows drawing together. "I heard it was beautiful."
"It is," I said. Inwardly I cursed myself for not being able to say something more interesting. My heart beat faster. My father talked to Théoden as he sat beside me. I was miserable. I had no one to talk to now, not even Éowyn. I tried to comfort myself with the fact that it would all be over in the blink of an eye but it didn't work. Not now, not with Théodred so near. There was no going back.
I heard a faint voice in my head- it sounded like my mother, even though she was so far away. El eria e môr, I lir en êl luitha uren, the voice said. A star rises out of the darkness; the song of the star enchants my heart. The verse echoed in my head. Had my mother really seen my happiness in marrying Théodred? I had to admit, he was very handsome although nowhere close to Legolas. He was human and he looked it. Legolas had the timeless looks of the immortal. Théodred looked more rugged and weathered, like Aragorn. He was probably the same age as Legolas's friend, except he looked a little younger and he was blonde.
Théoden rose from the table. Celeborn followed him out of the room. Soon Éowyn left too.
"How old are you, Niphredil?" Théodred asked suddenly.
"Why?" I said, bewildered. "Is it important?"
Théodred shrugged. "I don't know…it's just that you're going to be around forever, and I only have years left," he said.
"Does that bother you?" I asked concernedly. I didn't want this thing to get off on a bad start. "So many nights have passed where I laid awake, wondering what living out eternity would be like…and I'll admit, it almost scared me to death," I laughed harshly. "Outliving the world…"
Théodred's face twisted into a kind of half smile. I wondered what he was thinking. I wondered if he thought that I would miss him when he died…
"Can Elves really sense things?" Théodred asked, leaning forward a bit. His eyes were dark now.
"Yes," I whispered, as if I was telling him some sort of grave secret.
"Can you sense the darkness coming over the world?" he asked.
"Sometimes," I said. "My mother- the Lady Galadriel- has a Mirror…you know of the Mirror," I said. He nodded. "That is sometimes how we know…other times it's just a feeling, an instinct. Mornie utúlië," I said.
"Darkness has come," he answered.
"You speak Elvish?" I asked, surprised.
"I learned it as I grew up," he answered. "I heard bits and pieces and just pasted them all together."
I laughed softly, and the silence drove a rift between us. The questions we did not dare to ask hung between us, weighed down our hearts in the beginning of this forced friendship. "Do you think this will work?" I asked. There. The question was voiced. Théodred sighed.
"I think it could work," he said softly. "It could work if we just learned to adjust to each other. I imagine that it will be very hard, though, as the days pass…and I grow old, and you remain, as you are…" his voice trailed off. I saw us together, walking down the streets of Edoras, he an old man and me still a young and vibrant Elf…
"I'm sorry," Théodred whispered.
"Sorry for what?" I asked, fighting back tears.
"For all this," he said.
"It's not your fault," I said. "I know it's not your fault. My father decided that I should be married and decided that we needed to strengthen our alliance with the Men," I said. His eyes looked sad and deep, wells of feeling. "I'm sorry," I said to him. He took my hand in his from across the table. They were warm and big and rough. They were not Elf hands but I found comfort in them nonetheless. We were partners in our pain.
"I think we'll be alright," I whispered. His hands caressed mine gently. "We'll be alright."
Théodred smiled, a real smile this time. I smiled also, until Legolas's face briefly flashed before my eyes. The grin melted off my face slowly. As Théodred sensed that something was wrong, he held my hand a little tighter.
~~~
"My aunt wore it," Éowyn whispered to me as she held out the dress cautiously. "As will you…" her voice trailed off as she tilted her head at me, her blonde hair spilling off her shoulders. The white fabric rustled in her hand and folded onto itself as her hands moved. I reached out and stroked the dress with one finger. As the fabric caught the light it shimmered silver, to darkest gray until coming back to its opalescent color.
"And your father sent this," Eowyn continued, holding something out to me. It was a circlet of silver, edged in gold. Three multifaceted teardrop diamonds hung off the center, catching the candlelight light prisms. I balanced the circlet in my hands delicately, feeling the smooth metal in wonder. It was my mothers wedding circlet. I had pictured her in it many times, the transparent silver material hanging off the rear trailing down her back.
Now it was mine.
I set it on my hair delicately and turned to the mirror. My breath came sharply. I looked just like Galadriel. With trembling hands I removed the circlet and the veil and set them on the bed, not wanting to look at them. They were the seal for a fate that I had not wished.
I wondered why I was not dead yet, for the two ways that death came to Elves were through war and through heartbreak. This qualified with the latter, but still breath came, and my heart beat with the flow of the stars. I did not understand it. Maybe it came with some higher purpose, although this was heartbreak in its cruelest-
Maybe it was right.