Suilaid!
Apologies for taking so long to update this one! It was a doozy of a chapter to write, but it's length (over 3000 words) will most likely make up for lost time. Enjoy, and don't be afraid to drop me a line!
Two
Curiosity
Darkness quietly falls over the wood. The chirps of crickets and the soft hoots of owls blend together in a nighttime symphony. The trees are hushed and the wind faintly blows. All is peacefully silent, but I cannot find it within me to sleep. Pictures of the dwarf parade haughtily through my head and my questions about him resurface. I grab a book from my bedside and attempt to read, but my curiosity is screaming. No longer able to take it, I slowly and carefully arise, the sheets rustling as I push them aside. I change out of my nightclothes and into something more appropriate for an audience, throw on a cloak to shut out the cold, and, as always in these dark times, cinch my sword belt around my waist. The short sword hides beneath the silver fabric of the cloak. Silently I escape the confines of my chambers, my presence a mere shadow on the wall.
I slink through the corridors and halls, a burglar in my own home. All is eerily still. I begin to wonder if I should return to bed, but my perplexity hypnotizes me and draws me forward. Suddenly the pad of more footsteps leaps into my ears. Instantly I freeze, expecting a handmaiden or Galion to round the corner, but I see no one. Frustrated, apprehensive, and horribly confused, my eyes scan my surroundings.
Nothing.
No one.
Shrugging, I continue forward, descending quite a few flights of stairs. Faint torchlight illuminates the end of a dark corridor. At the end is my destination.
Loud snoring pours into my ears. Fate seems to be with me, for this night, the guards seem to have had one too many a ration of the Elvenking's wine. One lies prostrate on the stone floor of the small room; the other, slumped in a chair. Quietly I slip behind the latter and slowly take the keys that hang on the wall. Finding the right one takes some doing, but finally the lock turns. Gingerly I push the door open, scolding it when it squeaks, and slip inside. I take a torch from the wall to light the new corridor.
Cells line each side of the aisle. Movement comes from none of them. Hesitantly I tiptoe down, able to feel the eyes of the prisoners on me, seeing right through me, screaming at me to let them out.
Or to give them more food.
I catch a shift out of the corner of my eye. Slowly I turn towards it. When my eyes meet the sight, my heart leaps into my throat and fresh excitement courses through my veins. From the other side of the bars, a young dwarf stares me down. Audacity and curiosity mingle in his bright brown eyes; the bitterness that engulfed his older counterpart is not present. Instead he merely scrutinizes me, and I return his gaze, throwing his youthful, inquisitive boldness right back at him. Momentarily our eyes lock. When at last I rip myself from him and continue on, my ears catch the whispers of a chuckle, which both irritates and perplexes me.
Down, down, down I travel. Finally I reach a dead end. In front of me stands a heavy wooden door with a few small bars in a window-like cutout. And I know he is in here. My heart threatens to jump clean out of my chest as I try different keys to the lock. When the lock finally turns, I cannot find it within myself to open the door. Sighing and mustering up my nerve, I push out an opening just small enough for me to slip through. Immediately I am attacked by a ferocious stare from behind me that nearly succeeds at running me out. Hardening my resolve and moving with as much grace and composure as I can manage, I shut the door, set the torch on a stand, take my hood down, and turn.
"You may not have told King Thranduil of your true business here," I say, my voice smooth, cold, and diplomatic, "but perhaps you will tell me."
A savage glower from piercing steel grey eyes is all I get in response. The orange light from the torch etches into the sharpness of his features. Very regal and commanding he looks, but his gaze spits the venom of animosity. I completely ignore the faint hint of sadness that hides behind his eyes. Instantly I know that I have seen him somewhere before, but cannot put a finger on where.
"You cannot stay silent forever." I cock an eyebrow, hoping that the facial expression does not betray my lineage.
"You'll find that I can," he finally hisses.
I sigh, mutter a quick curse, and fix him with the most penetrating stare that I can muster. When he returns it, my resolve nearly shatters and chills shoot up my spine.
"We have already seen straight through your lies," I manage. "And I am not leaving until I get the truth."
A soft, cold grunt lashes out from the Dwarf's throat. "Then you'll be stuck down here for many a moon."
"I have all the time in the world, Master Dwarf," I say rather curtly. "You, however, do not."
The Dwarf cocks a jet black eyebrow. "Is that a threat?"
My face hardens in response.
"I have seen many wars, Elf. In no way will you or any of your kind ever threaten me."
I sigh, trying to conjure up some sort of bait. The fist thing to come to mind jumps onto my tongue.
"I can get you out of here."
His laugh is a slap in the face. "That offers no consolation. You are afraid now, though you try to hide it, and if you tried to spring me out, you would undoubtedly be caught. If you can hardly face me now, then how would you ever be able to stare down your whiny tyrant of a king?"
"My father is not a tyrant!" I blurt. "He is only doing what he deems best for his people."
With an amused glower slathered on his face, the Dwarf sits back and crosses his arms. I immediately regret my outburst.
"So," he hisses, "he's your father?"
Now thoroughly terrified, I recoil a bit. The answer is written all over my countenance.
"Then my suspicions are confirmed. You look exactly like him."
By the tone of his voice and the glint in his eye, I know that is not meant as a compliment.
Silence.
"I assume that he's mad and selfish enough to send his precious daughter to do the dirty work for him?"
"I came here on my own accord," I snap.
"I'm sure," he replies sardonically.
"If I hadn't, would there not be an entourage of guards following in my wake?" My voice ices over. "And would you not be chained to the wall?"
He shrugs tersely. Obviously he has seen my point.
Quiet descends over us again, and he fixes me with another piercing stare. It is all I can do not to buckle under the pressure.
"Why did you come?"
The randomness of the question takes me aback. I begin to form a response, but he abruptly cuts me off.
"You would say to ascertain the truth, but I think not. I am nothing more than an animal to you, incapable of anything noble, forever locked away from the world or any chance of honor, though I mean your people no harm!"
"These are dark times, Master Dwarf," I reply, stunned. "We do what we must to protect our home."
"What about what lies beyond your borders? What about those who suffer throughout all of Middle Earth?"
I sigh. "That which lies beyond our borders is not of our concern-"
"It never is," he hisses. "It never was. And when you had the chance to help the desperate...you fled."
"What are you talking about?"
Infuriated, the Dwarf scoffs. "Do not dare speak to me as if you know nothing!" he barks. "You know full well of what I speak! It should have ended that day. The dragon's fire should have been stomped out that instant! But when your time came, when our need was greatest, when the halls of Erebor were up in flames, the Elves of Mirkwood neglected us, abandoned us. Songs and legends speak of the pain that was, not of the victory that should have been. And in the years since, my people have wandered, wretched, homeless, bereft of our inheritance, all because your people, your father did nothing!"
His words ring hard in the stiff silence that follows.
"You speak as if you were there." I fight to keep my voice steady.
"I was," he spits.
A memory of the dragon's fire flares up in his fell eyes.
"You betrayed us."
"I am not my father," I say coolly, fighting desperately to keep my own fury from getting the best of me. My hand inadvertently wraps around my sword hilt.
"Prove it." He sits up and his eyes bore into mine. "Let me go."
"No." My response is flat.
In spite of himself, the Dwarf laughs. "You sound just like him, though you claim to be otherwise."
"I do not have the authority to give such an order," I counter. "And even if I did, I wouldn't."
The Dwarf harrumphs.
"You have broken our law," I continue softly. "You have trespassed on our lands. You are a threat, Master Dwarf. Therefore you must remain here until the king deems it time to set you free."
He growls. "A threat?"
"Yes." My voice turns back to stone. "You attacked my people-"
"I was looking for help!"
Now it is my turn to scoff.
"Then why are you so determined to hide anything and everything from us?"
The Dwarf begins to speak, but I cut him off as I pace the floor of his cell.
"I am not a simpleton, Master Dwarf. Neither is King Thranduil. You say you mean us no harm, and yet you will tell us nothing of your business here. We already have more than enough reason to be suspicious of you. It would greatly behoove you not to give us any more."
I freeze in my tracks and the Dwarf merely hardens his stance.
"Who are you and why are you here?"
The Dwarf might as well be a coiled viper, just itching to strike.
Impatience at last takes over. "Speak!"
Dead silence.
"I am a merchant," he slowly grumbles. "En route to Esgaroth. I had iron works and weapons to trade, but I lost all my cargo to the spiders."
"What about the others?" I question, happy to finally be making some progress of some sort.
"Others?"
"Yes. A party of twelve dwarves was brought in shortly after you were."
His face remains stone, but relief floods in behind his eyes.
"They too have apparently remained silent. You traveled with them, did you not?"
"I did. It does me good to know that they are alive."
Something else obviously tugs at the Dwarf's conscience, and I deem that whatever it is, I will not be able to pry it out.
"It is a wonder that anyone can survive in this wretched place," he continues. Realization sparks in his eyes, but he pushes back the flames to burn only as low embers. He fixes me with yet another glower.
"I have told you all you need to know," he spits. "Leave."
His forwardness catalyzes my suspicion.
"I know a liar when I see one, Master Dwarf. We are far from done here." I sound uncannily like my father, and the Dwarf cocks an eyebrow.
"Make yourself comfortable then," he quips dryly. "I have nothing more to say, and if you insist on pressing me, you shall be here for a very long time."
"As I said, Master Dwarf, I am patient," I counter, sitting down across from him. "I could wait for a thousand years and not age a day."
"That is exactly what your father said," the Dwarf says. "And nearly word for word at that."
"Then you may want to heed our warnings."
His reply is silence. His grey eyes once again bore into my soul, and, for once, I cannot hold his gaze. I tire of fighting him, and I know he picks up on it. His gaze does not leave my form, and he relishes in his apparent victory. Finally he breaks the silence with something that takes me completely off guard.
"What is your name, princess?"
My guard shoots up. "What business is that to you?"
"I know not. What business are my affairs to you?"
Angered, I jump to my feet and pace to the other side of his cell.
"You-"
"And I would add this: Your father knows full well who I am. I have tried to bargain, but he would not listen. None of your kind ever do."
"You lie. You have remained stubbornly silent. So have those that traveled with you. You are a liar, a thief, and a trespasser! Why in all of Arda should I trust you? Do you not see that we only hold you here to protect our people, our way of life? In case you haven't noticed, Master Dwarf, darkness has crept into our realm and threatens our borders. What has made its way in is indeed formidable. My people are dying, Master Dwarf! Even the wood itself withers!"
"And I am supposed to empathize?" He cocks a jet black eyebrow and his eyes turn to stone.
Slowly I approach him until mere inches are between our faces. My voice lowers to a hiss.
"Of course not. You know nothing of the ways of kings...and you never will."
The Dwarf's face twists into a fearsome scowl. Fire replaces the stone in his eyes.
"I will tell you the same thing I told your precious father," he spits.
He then leaps to his feet and roars a curse so loud and so foul it could melt the skin off of even the most hardened of warriors. Terrified, I leap backwards and rapidly draw my sword.
The Dwarf slightly recoils, but his anger boils over. "Killing me will get you nowhere, princess. And I doubt that you could."
"Hold your tongue!" I spit, backing him into the depths of his confinement. "I have heard enough."
Without lowering my sword, I glide out of his cell, slam the door shut, throw the lock, and storm up the corridor. His gaze is still locked on me as I retreat. Finally I round a corner, sheathe the sword, and bereft him of relishing in his victory any longer. I feel the eyes of the twelve other on me as I travel upwards, and a few snickers meet my ears. Flustered, I merely pick up the pace.
Soon enough I come to the cell of the Dwarf's younger counterpart. Light dances in his eyes. He is glued to the bars of his door, studying me with the same curiosity that so utterly perplexed me before. Now, in my present state, I cannot handle his gaze. I begin to slink off, but his voice stops me in my tracks.
"Don't take it personally. He's not overly fond of strangers, especially Elves."
My brow furrows. "Wait...you heard that?"
The young Dwarf laughs. "It could have awoken a sleeping troll! And was a bit harsh, if you ask me."
I cock an eyebrow. "A bit?"
He merely shrugs in response. A smile spreads across his face, but I detect no malice or bitterness in it. And it disturbs me.
"Perhaps."
"You certainly have a way with words," I say rather uneasily. "As does your father."
The Dwarf laughs. "Oh, he's not my father. He's my uncle. But everyone does say that we look a lot alike." He scrutinizes my face for a second. "Speaking of...family resemblances...you don't happen to be related to King Thranduil, do you?"
I sigh. "He is my father."
"Ah." The Dwarf nods. "That explains some things. But there is one big difference between him and yourself, princess."
"And what, pray tell, is that?"
The young Dwarf's small smile morphs into a full out, cheeky grin.
"You're beautiful."
My eyes pop. Inwardly I scold the blush that creeps up my neck.
"You are most bold, Master Dwarf," I stammer, partially disgusted, partially fascinated.
"Reckless, perhaps?"
Embarrassed and utterly confused, I can only nod. I know he is mocking me.
Or is he?
For the more I look at him, the more I get the feeling that he actually means what he says. The notion makes me incredibly uneasy. Instinct sends my guard shooting up.
He chuckles, and nothing seems to be hiding behind his good nature.
"Everyone says I am," he continues with a shrug. "My uncle worries sometimes. So does my brother. But it's not that justified."
"Oh?" Despite my wariness, I feel a smile twitching at the corners of my mouth.
He almost playfully shakes his head.
"All evidence to the contrary," I stammer.
Another grin cracks across his face. "I get the feeling that perhaps you are too."
"Am I?"
"Well, you slipped past the guards to get down here, alone, in the middle of the night, did you not?"
I take his point. It must register on my face, for the bold spark in his eye begins to burn brighter, though he stares at the floor.
"Aye," he says with a wink, "definitely reckless."
Through my confusion, a shy grin starts to break through.
But a huge commotion towards the top floors of the dungeon wipes the smile from my face and causes my blood to freeze.
"Rhaich..."
My brother's voice drifts down to us, along with those of the guards.
"The keys," my brother demands, "where are the keys?"
"I know not, my lord. They just...disappeared."
"While you were...asleep...I would imagine." He sighs. "The king will have you both flogged when he discovers this!"
Their footsteps draw closer. Looking for a place to hide and finding none, I decide to face them head on.
"Good luck, princess," the Dwarf whispers, slipping into the shadows of his cell. His words are strangely sympathetic.
I swallow hard and stand my ground. When they round the corner, Legolas's jaw drops.
"Caladhiel? What in all of Arda are you doing down here?!" His Sindarin is soft, but in his protective way, I know he is angry.
Stricken dumb, I can only stare at him, a frightened deer catching the glint of the hunter's arrow.
"Ada is worried about you. When he learns of your whereabouts, he will be most displeased."
"I suspected as much, muindor."
"I trust you have the keys as well."
In response I hold them up and toss the to the nearest guard.
"Come," Legolas orders, extending his arm towards me. "Ada is waiting."
Hesitantly I take it and am ushered swiftly from the dungeon's halls.
I am, no doubt, in serious trouble.
