Chapter 2 – The Winds of Change
Inziladûn walked swiftly to his tent, confused and impatient. Suddenly wrathful at his perceived weakness and the elf who had occasioned it he glared angrily at the captive standing before him. Eldarcáno's easy stance and utter fearlessness was becoming irritating, he was used to respect and deference. His people bowed before him and humbly asked his will. Not so this elf who held himself as prince and an equal.
"What do you wish of me?" asked the elf breaking the silence without even the slight bow he had given before.
"Who sent you Eldarcáno?" demanded Inziladûn angrily, "You call yourself a messenger, do you not? Who sent you to spy upon us?"
Eldarcáno's lower lip curled slightly at his outburst. "I am not a spy" he said flatly, "I came because your people are dear to the Eldar and you need our aid."
Inziladûn's eyes flashed, "We need no aid nor pity, elf!" he spat, "We are not so weak as you mighty immortals believe!"
"I speak not of strength of arms" Eldarcáno said bluntly, "The Land of the Star, your land, first ruled by Elros of the line of Luthíen is failing. Your people no longer honor the Valar, the name of the One is no longer respected. How long can Númenor endure without the good will of the Lords of the West?"
Inziladûn was furious, how dare this elf, this prisoner berate him! How dare he accuse men of being unfaithful! How dare he!
Blindly, he struck out, his fist smashing into Eldarcáno's face. The elf rocked on his feet, helpless in his bounds as the prince slapped him across the face, the heavy rings he wore tearing the skin. He took it silently, stumbling back from the force of the blows.
He fell heavily, Inziladûn, his face crimson in anger standing above his prisoner. He stared down angrily, the elf was sprawled gracelessly across the floor, his bound hands trapped painfully beneath his weight, his face bleeding and bruised. Still his bright grey eyes sought no mercy and held no fear, only calm assurance.
Inziladûn drew back panting as his wrath drained away leaving him empty and horribly guilty. He stood stunned for a long moment before he silently sought the elf's eyes, his stomach turning at the damage he had caused. What had he become? He had beaten an unarmed and helpless prisoner. Had he fallen so low, was this what the elf was warning him of?
He backed away leaning against the tent pole. As the elf swung himself to his feet with an inhuman agility, he felt slightly relieved, Eldarcáno must not be as badly injured as he had thought. His relief died as the elf twisted his bound hands before him and reached into his left boot.
The prince watched paralyzed as Eldarcáno withdrew a long supple blade, cutting his bonds with a few swift strokes and turned his attention upon Inziladûn. The prince stood firmly, he had behaved abominably, but he was not utterly craven. He would take the elf's revenge without compliant. Eldarcáno stopped before him his eyes glittering strangely in the flickering light.
He brought the blade up, gleaming before Inziladûn's burning face, it dazzled his eyes as it spun and came to rest point down in the elf's hand.
Inziladûn blinked.
Eldarcáno stood there still, a smile quirking about his mouth, the elven blade held down in his hand.
"I mean you no harm, your highness." he said finally, "I meant every word of what I said. I am here as a friend not as a spy." He held the knife out, offering it freely.
"I am sorry"
The shapely mouth formed a half-smile.
"I am ashamed, never have I so lost control of my passions. Please forgive me, my lord." The elf prince's split lips twisted into a genuine full smile.
"You are not so far gone after all Prince Inziladûn." he said, his voice slightly hoarse, "None who can still see the evil of his actions and repent of them is beyond aid. You understand now don't you?"
Inziladûn nodded. What was this creature who could read him so easily? Who saw before he, himself did what he was slowly becoming, trapped in the court. Who was he among his own people? What was his true name?
"I am Legolas, son of Thranduil" said the elf looking him in the eye. Could he read minds? "My life is in your hands as is the fate of Númenor if she can still be saved."
Inziladûn surprise showed clearly in his face. He had thought that the elf held himself well, and so he might. This was no ordinary elf he had mistreated but a prince of the elves…
"You are a prince of the Greenwood?" he asked, his voice shaking slightly.
"I am"
"Then even more so do I repent my actions and those of my companions. Anórhad told me their ill-deeds."
"For both I grant forgiveness freely. We have much to speak of."
Inzilbêth looked about the great banquet hall of the palace at Armenolas. Great swags of velvet and silk were draped gaily along the high stone walls, and though it shimmered in deep and vibrant colors the stone seemed cold to her, cold and uncaring as her life had become.
Even her son, her last and dearest joy, the light of the unhappy queen of Númenor was leaving her. The words of the elf, that night weeks ago had given her hope, but no word had she heard and her hope was fading.
Inziladûn would continue becoming more arrogant and cruel, following his father and younger brother and breaking his mother's worn heart.
Around her the music ebbed and flowed, swelling sweetly as it had long ago on her wedding night. The night she had sworn her life away to a man she did not love. In a way she had not cared, indeed she had been almost eager. Thalion who she had loved first was gone, sent away on a fruitless and dangerous mission by order of the king.
Her heart torn by the king's cruelty to he whom she had loved and the fear of harm to her family should she refuse him she had accepted his advances. Now, looking upon the empty years following her choice she felt a great sorrow that life had served her so ill. Thalion, whom she had loved unknown to all but the king was happily married having returned with honor from his trials. Even his daughter, Melyanna a brave and wise girl who followed her parent's beliefs was so unlike her own children.
About her the crowds swirled, laughing, drinking, dancing as there was no ill or shadow upon the world. But theirs was no innocent entertainment, the laughter was forced and shallow, the drinking in excess and the dancing bereft of dignity. She had no place among them.
Turning, she left seeking out the peace of her own chambers.
She swung to the ante-chamber open and stopped, ill-at-ease. Inzilbêth started towards the low fire with a taper.
The flames blazed with sudden light and she saw the silent figure that stood outside her window.
"May I enter my lady?" asked Eldarcáno.
Inzilbêth nodded soundlessly as he slipped within.
"Your son awaits you, my queen. Do not fear for him any longer."
And he smiled as she whirled about seeking her child.
To Reviewers:
Just A Reviewer: Ah, I love your reviews...nice and long...Its Laiqalasse...the Quenyan for Greenleaf. Yes, their names are a bit messy...blame the great professor. Sorry I couldn't earlier...but life has been evil lately. You're out of school? Where in Arda do you live...even my college doesn't get out for another month. And this is going to be a trilogy...some day. Unfortunately my head is full of plot-tribbles (which means that I constantly have new ideas...latest being a Middle Earth Scarlet Pimpernel...)
Pip the Dark Lord of All: Thanks :)
