The golden morning light filtered from the open balcony and into the vast room, dancing in shimmering patterns over the polished marble floor. Outside the trees waltzed to the melody of the gentle autumn breeze, their flaming leaves painting the landscape in bright red and gold, some of them eve washing feebly inside the bedchamber like a delicate carpet. At least it was not raining today. I had been raining for the past four days without a break, the sky constantly casting the realm with its somber gray mantle.
Letting out a silent sigh, the Crown Prince of Mirkwood let his fingers unwrap from the delicate railing, gracefully turning around and heading back inside the welcoming interiors of his bedchamber. His emerald eyes scanned over the piece that he already knew by memory, tracing over every single detail absentmindedly. Everything was exactly as it had been the day before, and the one before that, and the one before that. He loved this room, his room. The only piece in the grand Palace that belonged solely to him. The rich silk deep blue curtains swayed languidly at the wall long windows, the color the exact same shade as the feather cover on the overly large bed in the center of the room.
A silver tray with his breakfast laid already on a small round table to the corner of the room. It was gorgeously adorned with intricate patterns of leaves woven in the same silver around the handles, where one of the delicate leaves was awkwardly bent sideways, marking the place where someone had no doubt dropped it some years ago. It was the same tray that delivered to his bedchambers everytime he missed a meal. Sidhel always used the same tray. It was filled with all sorts of pastries, cheeses, bread and freshly squeezed orange juice, but the sight of if did not seem too appealing at the moment. No. It only reminded him that he had been forced to rise at an absurdly early hour in the morning, before the Sun had even had time to show its presence, to attend a Council meeting where he did nothing more than to sit by his father's right side and simply listen to everything that was being said. Not that it bothered him to attend the King's meetings or to simply stand by his side and listen. After all he was indeed Crown Prince and as thus it was his duty to be occasionally present. But it seemed that for the past couple of weeks his father had been constantly on top of him, demanding his presence in every single meeting, not matter how insignificant the subjects they were discussing. He knew that the Elvenking was only attempting to teach him, but Valar it was exhausting, especially when said meetings occurred in the middle of night. How did his father do this every day?
Deciding against having breakfast, - not that he was hungry anyway- the Crown Prince of Mirkwood headed instead to the large wooden wardrobe to the farthest side of the room, absentmindedly discarding the exquisite elegant blue outer robes he had been wearing. At least he had the rest of the day to himself, he might was well spend it outside. Perhaps he would even find Lossenel or Tadion and figure out what had they been up to today.
His slender fingers gently pulled the heavenly crafted pair of doors open, the wood feeling pleasantly warm against his hands as he let his deep green eyes travel over the many robes and clocks hanging inside, searching for a very particular item. But no matter how many times his eyes roamed from garment to garment, that precise dark green cloak he was specifically looking for was not there. His eyes widened slightly in both surprise and confusion for a second. It had to be there. He had placed it there with the rest of his cloaks, he was sure of it. Everything in his bedchambers was always where it was supposed to be. And yet that cloak, his favorite cloak, was not there. But that could not be….. He took a deep calming breath as a new realization suddenly downed on him, reluctantly taking instead a worn light blue cloak as he pushed the wardrobe's doors closed once more. Legolas! Why, oh Why in the name of the Valar did his youngest brother always had to come pick out stuff from his chambers and never return them. But no, this time he not only had to take his favorite cloak without asking, but this time he had to take it to Imladris! He only hoped this cloak would return home safely this time…the last few of his cloaks that Legolas had taken to Imladris had somehow been lost. Of course his father would always replace the lost cloaks with new ones, but he did not specially like new ones…he liked his old ones, the ones he already knew and wore.
Admitting that there was nothing else he could do for his cloak at the moment, Arahaelon swiftly crossed the ample bedchamber, acknowledging the two guards flanking the doors with a curt nod of this head. Candanor to the left and Amrodhil to the right of the pair of majestic doors. They had switched sides today. Usually Amrodhil was to the right. The long grand corridors of the Palace were mostly empty as he patiently walked down their seemingly infinite lengths, knowing every archway, every column, every door already by heart. The tall slender columns that stretched majestically to the intricate ceiling only to meet delicately at the tip of pointed arches, the cold stone seeming warm, casting long elegant shadows underneath the rays of sunlight.
"Sidhel." He called in his usually gentle and patient voice as the slim figure of the maid suddenly rounded a corner, the maid bowing her head immediately with a soft "My Lord" before looking back up at him, no doubt waiting for new orders on his part. He always found it strange how formal and respectful the maid was with him and the rest of his siblings, after all she had been the maid in charge of them during their childhood, and yet always, even when he was nothing but an elfling, Sidhel had addressed him either by 'My Lord', 'My Prince' or 'Your Highness', never calling him by his given name. No one ever did, only his father and siblings, as the proper protocol demanded formalities to be always used when referring to the Royal Family.
"Have you seen Tadion?" Sidhel's gentle eyes looked slightly confused by the question, shaking her head only after a few seconds, long blond hair swaying lightly at her back.
"No, Your Highness, I have not seen him for a few hours, but last time I heard he was outside in the training fields." Of course he was, why had he not thought about it before, it seemed the obvious place to find Tadion. Perhaps he would even go down there himself and spar with him form a while.
"Thank you, Sidhel." He nodded with a soft smile before reassuming his walk down the long arched corridor, already anticipating the soothing calmness of the trees outside.
He barely even noticed the few elves he crossed on his way, only returning the respectful nods on the heads and bows he received on his way, and finally the ample set of vast terraces he had been looking for came into view, where the Palace opened up to the endless gardens outside. It was pleasantly cool outside in the gardens, the fallen red leaves carpeting over the ever green grass and crunching underneath his feet as he made his way through garden after garden, the trees become denser and denser as he walked. His emerald eyes looked up at the canopy above his head, watching as the thousand of branches of all sorts of different sizes tangled together in an enchanting dancing web, the light filtering sparsely through the few openings left and reflecting the bright red and orange tones into the ground below. It was the most beautiful part of the forest: the thick canopy above.
Suddenly his legs bumped into something, startling him form his thoughts and making him immediately look down at the sound of a surprised cry, and Valar if he could have blushed, the Crown Prince of Mirkwood would have turned red with embarrassment as his eyes fell on the slender figure of a Lady who had been sitting peacefully on the fresh grass…until he ran over her all because he had been looking up at the leaves.
"Forgive me, my Lady. I did not see you." He apologized, his voice ever the perfectly serene sound that betrayed none of his embarrassment, his stomach tying in a knot as his eyes fell on the suddenly harsh long line of charcoal that the Lady's hand had accidentally marked over the page where she seemed to have been drawing the nearby lilies that floated delicately over the pond.
"It is hard too see what's on the ground if one's eyes are on the sky, Your Highness." Oh Valar, and he had thought he had been embarrassed before. Tadion would mock him for the rest of eternity if he ever found out about this. And yet the Lady's voice was gentle, as soft and tranquil as the breeze, not seeming to have been bothered at all by the unexpected collision, her head turning to look up at him from where she was still sitting on the grass.
Arahaelon's eyes never showed his surprise as he took in the delicate features of the Lady's face. He knew this Lady. Familiar long silken hair fell in delicate braids down her back, the calming color of ashes, framing a very delicate angular face adorned with large soothing hazel eyes, spiked with green near the pupils. It was Lady Indilene. He had not seen her since she was nothing but an elfling, always running around with Legolas while her nursemaid trailed behind her, constantly attempting to fix her dress or ribbons. He knew both of her parents- her father a well known former member of the Council- had died when she was nothing but an infant, when her uncle – a renowned Lord he did not quite remember the name of- had taken her as his own. She and Legolas had been very close, but she had moved to Lorien some years later to spend time with her mother's side of the family. He had not known they had returned. She looked different not…prettier.
"It seems I ruined your drawing." He added, his eyes once again scanning the parchment where the long line of charcoal had fallen. But thinking it twice, that did not even resemble a drawing. It was horrible, awful, the water lilies on her page barely resembled flowers at all.
To his surprise she raised a delicate eyebrow at him, a soft smile drawing on her face that he could not tell if it was trying to be polite or to mock him. "Do not flatter yourself, my Lord. It was already ruined. It is horrible." Her voice was once again as tranquil as before, even as she spoke the complete truth, as soft as morning dew making him debate for a second before he too admitted the truth to her.
"You are right, My Lady. It is...terrible." And oh, Valar it was. It was an insult to anything remotely resembling a rater lily. The lines were all wrong. Not a single seemed to be drawn correctly. Could Indilene not see how water lilies looked like? And yet it seemed that his words only made a soft chuckle escape her lips, the sound as gentle as her own voice, large eyes looking back up at him in an almost daring manner, slightly narrowed at his words.
"Then why do you not try to draw them better yourself then?...Your Highness" She added at the end, as if she had almost forgotten who she had been talking to, but he did not mind. Oh he could draw them better. He definitely could. But he was not sure if he wanted to make her feel worse about her drawing which was already an embarrassment by itself.
Instead of saying anything, the Crown Prince of Mirkwood slowly sat down on the grass next to her, always graceful and elegant, always the Prince he had taught to be, carefully observing the Lady, but she did not give him a chance to speak before quickly changing her mind, her lips curving up in a defeated smile as her eyes pouted at the horrible drawing sitting on her, as if almost pitying it herself.
"You know, do not try to draw them yourself, my Lord, because I now have the feeling that you will draw them better than me and I already feel bad about my lack of skill." She chuckled, closing the sketchbook on her lap with a swift move of her pale hand. She did lack skill, that was undeniable.
"Have you seen Prince Legolas, my Lord?" She changed the subject, her face as serene and soft as before as if nothing could ever agitate her. "I have been looking for him but have unable to find him."
"Well if you do find him tell him that he has something of mine that I would really like back." He added before he realized he had even spoken. Why was he casually giving her this information? He found that Indilene was now looking curiously at him, that delicate eyebrow once again raised questioningly above her peaceful eyes. And yet the way she was looking at him, casually, softly, made him slightly uncomfortable, as if she was looking at him, Arahaelon, and not at the Crown Prince he portrayed. Even if there was no scrutinizing glance in her eyes, even if she did not seemed to be observing him or studying him, simply casually looking with her innocent soft eyes, it still made him feel that she was looking at him. And immediately he became the Crown Prince again, regal and calmed, cautious of every single once of his movements, every single one of his words. "Legolas is in Imladris. He will be returning in the winter."
His peacefully polite words only gained a nod from Lady Indilene's head, her ash colored hair gently brushing her shoulders in the process, the strands looking as soft, as delicate as the lilies floating beautifully on the nearby pond. But her eyes remained looking at him with that soft entleness, as calming as the undisturbed surface of the pond, as open as a child's eyes, as if she had no trouble in letting anyone see inside them. There was no guard, no barrier, merely open, inviting even, making him all the more uncomfortable as he once again felt that she was looking at him, as if merely with her eyes she was violating a very private territory. He did not want her to look at him. He did not want her to look at Arahaelon. She did not know him. He did not know her.
"Oh." Was all the Lady said, seeming somehow disappointed that his younger brother was not in the Palace as she had no doubt expected. "I have not seen him in such a long time. He was the only elfling for me to play with." Those penetrating eyes turned once again to look at him, a gorgeous smile adorning her angular face, lighting her eyes.
"I remember that." He added, not really knowing why he was saying it, as if the sole inviting look of her eyes was enough for him to open up to her, even if he still tried to remained guarded around her, letting her look always at the Crown Prince, still uncomfortable and yet amazed with the openness of her own large hazel eyes.
A light laugh left her lips. "We used to slide on cloaks all the way down to this same pond." She spoke freely once more, yet not seeming melancholic, simply conversing lightly, he demeanor always soft, reminding him once more of the innocent little elfling that used to trail behind Legolas in each and every one of his crazy ideas, never once complaining and always seeming happy and excited about whatever it was that Legolas chose to play.
"Yes, I remember that as well. Those cloaks were mine." He narrowed his eyes at her in a most un-princely manner, reminded once again of the many ruined cloaks he had found lying messily over the gardens. Why could Legolas never take Tadion's cloaks to mess with? Why did it always had to be his? And yet he knew the reason very well. Tadion would not let Legolas mess with his stuff without a little yell in return. He had seen so many a fight like that before. And yet as Indilene's eyes turned to look at him again he was once again faced with the uncomfortable feeling that she was seeing right into him, making immediately feel the need to lift back his barriers. But she was stunning, those eyes were mesmerizing, as liquid as the dancing waters of the pond as inviting as the morning, so calming, so steady, so…real. No barriers, no pretenses, just her. And he did not why but he once again did not want her looking directly at him. No one looked at him, only his immediate family was allowed inside his walls, why did he feel as if her eyes could penetrate them so easily? He did not like that. What lay behind his walls, behind his carefully constructed barriers was personal, was his, was him. He did not know her. He needed to leave, needed to escape those welcoming eyes before he allowed her to look right past all of his defenses, all his caution.
"Forgive me for running over you, my Lady." He added as he gracefully pushed himself to his feet once more, standing as tall and regal as ever, watching as a look of sudden confusion filled Indilene's honey colored eyes before disappearing only to be replaced with that soothing welcoming gaze. "I must be on my way."
She seemed slightly taken aback by his sudden change in demeanor, and yet did not seem surprised at all by it, as if she had been anticipating that exact reaction from him, as if she had somehow known the he would not let her in. "Of course, my Lord." Was the only thing she said, that warm and inviting smile still present on her lips. He needed to get away from her.
He turned around as well, continuing his march down the gardens, headed towards the training fields. He would find Tadion, just as it had been his intention when entering the gardens. He would find Tadion and spar with his younger brother fro a while before someone no doubt came looking for him to attend yet another meeting. And yet there was still that uncomfortable feeling lingering on him from the way in which Indilene's gentle eyes had innocently looked past all o his barriers and landed on him. He would not let that happen again. He did not ever want that to happen again….And yet he did.
Hi! So here's the first chapter of a spin-off story companion to Alamarëa. The idea has been on my head for a while but finally managed to write it. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Please let me know what you think!
Also I have been working on the next chapter of Almarëa so don't despair! It will hopefully come up soon! I'm still struggling with work for my masters so haven't had much time at all, but again I have not abandoned that story and I never will! Sorry for the awfully long waits, but also I don't want to leave you with a chapter that is bad and rushed just because I wrote it in a hurry.
Anyways I hope you enjoy this little fragment into Arahaelon's life.
Love,
Elena