One
Dwarves
Confusion whirls around me like a tempest as I fly through the halls of the palace. I know not what to expect; the only thing I can focus on are the handmaiden's words. They relay a rumor that has spread as wildfire through the courts and crept into my knowing.
My brother has returned prematurely from his hunting trip…with a rather strange and unsettling catch.
My head still spins when I finally arrive at my destination. A pale, but welcoming light emulates from all four walls of the long hall, its orange hue seeping into every corner and somehow running the shadows away. Servants, lords, soldiers, who would normally be scurrying to and fro on errands, stand as a clot in an artery, some completely enthralled by the unfolding scene, others thoroughly terrified.
I understand why.
My father's voice booms menacingly, weaving a daunting spell of authority that casts itself explicitly over the throng. Another unfamiliar voice harshly spits rebuttals, soft and gruff, but equally unbreakable. Something whispers to me that the owner's full potential has not yet been unleashed, a caged timber wolf just itching to rip the limbs off of everyone present. And when I finally succeed at pushing my way through the crowd to the front, I understand the underlying hostility and grueling disrespect of his tone.
The owner is a dwarf.
Surrounded by the guard, he stands completely alone, but audacious and haughty as if he had an entire army of his own behind him. His fell eyes coldly shoot his questioner's stare straight back at him. Glaring bitterness entangles his being just as the spider-webs entangle his limbs. The very sound of his voice is an insult to my father, to myself, and to the rest of my people. The more I study him, the more I begin to loathe him.
Questions bombard my mind like a barrage of flaming arrows. Who is he? Where is he from? What has he done? And why in all of Arda is he here? My mind is hurling so much that I completely miss the choice words that have just escaped the cage of the monster's conscience. Suddenly Ada's eyes flash protective fury, my brother's hand inadvertently moves to loose an arrow, the guards tighten their grip, and the defendant struggles. Whatever this dwarf has done, I deem, is more urgent than merely a trifling trespass.
"I will tell you again as I've said before," he growls, glaring daggers straight into King Thranduil's soul, "I was lost. Starving. A beggar! I was this close to becoming that spider's next meal!" He adds with an extra dose of icy hostility: "Which I'm assuming is your pet!"
"That monster is as much of an intruder on our land as you are!" Ada hisses, a terrible rage pouring forth from his countenance. "And you are not nearly gaunt enough to be truly starving, and much too arrogant to let yourself stoop so low as to beg. You attacked my people while they were at their merrymaking, trespassed within our borders, and have broken our law. Your words reek of lies." At last he stops his pacing and stares right at the prisoner. "I am going to give you one last chance to tell me of your true business here. If you do not comply, you will stay locked in my dungeon until you finally have the sense to spit it out."
"Then I will stay there and rot until the world ends," the dwarf spits back, "because you will not get one more word out of me!"
"Very well then." The king's voice is as fell and cold as iron. "Take him away, Captain."
With that, the guards push the dwarf into movement and they disappear into the shadows.
Eventually the crowd disperses, leaving none but my brother, my father, and myself alone in the empty hall. Letting out an exasperated sigh, Ada flops down on his throne, resting his forehead in his hand. Completely silent, Legolas stands beside him. A small part of me wants to be there with him, but the vast majority cannot convince my legs to move.
At last Ada breaks the silence.
"Leave us, Caladhiel," he says. "Your brother and I have important matters to discuss."
"Ben iest gîn, Ada," I reply, slightly annoyed. Reluctantly I shuffle out of the hall, determined to find my own way about discovering more about the dwarf.
I turn to the library, peel a book from the shelf, and make my way to one of the gardens. The grass tickles my bare feet as I tiptoe through, afraid that I will shatter the beautiful balance that still graces this place, despite the sickness that chokes rest of the wood. I sit under an age old oak. Resting my back against the tree, I open the book and slip away into the realm of the legends of the past. Time slinks by.
The sound of footsteps rips me from my reverie. Soon enough Legolas is sitting beside me, a grave look painted on his face. When he finally speaks, his voice is soft.
"More dwarves were found."
Perplexity delivers a sharp blow to me. "How many?"
Legolas sighs. "Twelve. And one of them looked remarkably alike to the first one, though obviously younger."
"A relation?"
"Perhaps a son. Or a nephew. We do not know, because they will not speak."
Silence plagues us.
"It has been long indeed since the Dwarves were last heard of in these parts," I mutter. "I have not seen even seen one for nearly two hundred years, when we traveled to Erebor before it fell. And I must admit, its halls are a sight to behold. And there is so much gold!"
"That there is," Legolas concurs.
"I wonder what brings them back…"
Legolas shrugs. "But we know one thing. They certainly are not starving. Lost, possibly."
"What direction was the first one traveling when you found him?"
Legolas thinks for a moment. "East."
"Strange…"
Quiet.
"And what could be so important that they must hide it from us?"
"I do not know."
"If they would only tell us! Save us from the stubbornness of dwarves!"
Legolas only nods in agreement. Suddenly he begins to whip around, his eyes holding a slightly perturbed curiosity.
"What is it?" I inquire.
"Shhh!" he replies. "Listen."
The only thing to meet my ears is silence.
"Legolas-?"
He holds up a silencing hand.
Quiet.
At last he speaks again. "I thought I heard footsteps."
"Footsteps?"
"Light and swift. Such as I have never heard before…"
In spite of myself, I laugh. "You, muindor nín, have lost your mind!"
Legolas only looks at me. "You'll find that I have not. Listen!"
Amused and slightly annoyed, I silence myself. After what seems like hours of pained waiting, something, soft as the whisper of the wind, ruffles the grass. Somewhere small feet crunch on fallen leaves. And I deem it not to be any animal.
"I take back my words, brother," I whisper. "I hear it now."
My mouth clamps shut. The soft sound of an opening door creaks through the air. Swift feet pad on stone, then the sound vanishes.
Legolas and I can only stare at each other.
"What was that?" I finally question.
"I know not," Legolas replies, his brow only ever so slightly creased. It is obvious that he is not nearly as miffed about this as I am.
"It was no animal," I say.
Legolas's face remains relaxed. "If it is an intruder, sister, the guards will see to it."
"But that's just it. We cannot see anything of whatever this creature is." Wonder holds a spell over my voice. "Just the soft pad of footsteps, an opening door, and silence."
"We will have the answers soon enough," Legolas says. "But I at least know that I am not crazy."
I laugh. "That is always good!" I too, finally begin to wind down. "And when whatever it is arrives at the gates it will be trapped. We will catch it soon enough."
Silence comes over us yet again. This time I am the one to break it.
"Do you think that we should inform Ada?"
Legolas shakes his head. "No. It is nothing but a fleeting matter. We are most likely overreacting."
I nod in agreement.
More footsteps crunch the grass and Galion, butler to the Elvenking and the royal family, appears.
"Lord Legolas, Lady Caladhiel," he says, clearing his throat and giving us a small bow. "King Thranduil wished for you to join him for dinner."
Nodding, I smile at Galion, for over the years, I have become quite fond of the old Elf. "Le hannon, Galion."
Legolas stands, then turns, helps me up, and offers his arm. I take it and we disappear into the palace.
We sup in silence, our minds only able to rest on the strange events of the day. As I swallow my food, my curiosity piques, and I vow to myself to discover more about our…guests.
Elvish words and phrases:
Ada - Father
Ben iest gîn- Yes (lit. "According to your wish")
Muindor nín - My brother
Le hannon - Thank you
A lot of you probably know these phrases, but I put them here anyway for those that may not. Yes, this is the same Caladhiel that is mentioned in my Lord of the Rings fic "Esgalion's Mask," because I really like continuity. Dwarves, dragons, and hobbits to come. Please feel free to review, favorite, follow, or PM me if you have any questions or comments, especially about the cannon characters (because I'm overly paranoid about having them be OOC…hence why all my other stories haven't contained them so far). Hope you enjoyed and thanks for reading!