Chapter 2
"Amaniel! Lady Amaniel!" a young nymph called out to the elleth, stumbling over her own feet as she chased after her. She turned, looking down to the blonde, curly headed child.
"What is it Neledine?" she inquired, her features holding curiosity. When the little nymph caught up to her, she wrung her hands tightly together.
"I- well I was wondering... could you teach me to use a bow?!" she blurted, watching the elleth, anxiously awaiting her response. Her eyebrows shot up at the girl's unexpected request.
"A bow? Well, I would, but I fear your small hands could hardly wrap around one, much less pull it back."
Neledine's big eyes saddened to a shade of disappointment. Amaniel smiled sympathetically, kneeling to the young nymph's level.
"Have you ever made a crown of field blooms? Like the one the elder nymph's wear?" she asked, hoping to peak her interest. She shook her head a few times, looking at her bare toes.
"Would you like me to teach you? It's not archery, but you could make one for your mother." she suggested, lifting her chin with a single finger. The nymph paused.
"Okay." her bright smile brought an equal one to Amaniel's lips.
The Elvenking, alone and solitary, sat in his study; he was looking over an ancient map of what was once Greenwood. He would do so, every once in a while, to remember what Mirkwood used to be. Beautiful, healthy a safe haven for all elf-kind. The days of Oropher shone and flourished, they brought much happiness. Now, Thranduil was left with only scraps to protect. The mutant spiders seemed to hold more reign over the woodlands than he; so the King would think on his gloomier days. Sighing, he removed the weights from the corners of the map, letting it bounce into it's usual roll. He laid it in a drawer and slid the door shut with a snap. His mind was ridden with thoughts of that she-elf. He did feel the slightest guilty for confining her in the palace. Valar, if image was no concern of his, he would've asked to leave with her!
He decided that a stroll would do him good, so he left into the hall, his golden robe trailing behind him. Each of his steps were light and unhurried. He knew no destination, only letting his sightless feet guide him. Corner after corner he turned, and after what he hadn't counted to be about the thirteenth pivot, his keen eyes landed on his guest. She stood still, looking over the balcony, her hands folded and back straight. Her caramel hair fell mostly over her back, save for the sections that framed her face and exposed her pointed ears. The crown of her head was decorated with intricate, traditional plaits that rivaled a silversmith's finest work.
"Do you make a habit of staring at you guests?" she asked, gaze unmoving. Thranduil allowed a crease between his brows as he strode forward. She tested his patience.
"How was your night? Was Lanairen good to you?" he inquired, overlooking her snide remark. Amaniel nodded, her crystaline eyes flitting to follow a bird as it soared through the sky.
"How long has she been a member of the guard?" she asked with a faint smirk. It did not go unnoticed by the King.
"Several hundred years. You are very observant." he commented, looking from the many flets in the trees to her. She tilted her head slightly.
"No, simply not ignorant."
Thranduil narrowed his eyes at her, visibly tightening his jaw.
"But very insolent." he muttered.
"Really?" she snickered. After a moment of tense silence, she turned to him, apologetically dipping her head. "I mean no disrespect, My King. I was only jesting. It's been many years since I returned to the woodland realm. I feel lighthearted among my kin." She explained. At her words, Thranduil lifted a brow.
"You are quite to chide yourself." he commented. Amaniel paused silently for a moment, not exactly understanding the meaning behind his words.
"Would you rather do so for me?" she asked honestly, not considering the implications behind her question. He couldn't help his twitch of a grin at her, which she did not miss.
"Why do you laugh at me?" she puzzled, earning an actual snicker.
"Your boldness could easily be mistaken for impudence." he smiled lightly at her from the corner of his eye.
"Perhaps that is why only children take a liking to me." she mused.
"Oh?" he asked. She nodded.
"There was a young nymph in particular who became very attached to me. Her name was Neledine. She never did regard her words much." The thought of her brought a fond smile to the elleth's lips. The two elves stood in silence for a short while, simply watching the activity among Mirkwood's inhabitants.
"The council will be meeting tonight. You should be present." Thranduil explained, leading her to nod reluctantly. She never did like polotics. "They expect your reason for coming to Mirkwood, as do I. I suggest you prepare your explanation." and he left with elleth to herself. She frowned deeply. He knew she wasn't only passing through, just as well as she knew she couldn't get away with that excuse. Her day suddenly became dreadful by the utterance of one sentence. With a heavy sigh, Amaniel let her eyes trail over the forest floor. Her vantage point showed a great deal of the beauty enclosed by Mirkwood's gates. Though it's colors were muted, and little light shone naturally, the elven civilization seemed to sparkle. Perhaps thanks to it's inhabitants?
"What makes a forest is not it's foliage, but those who keep it alive."
Amaniel recalled the voice of a wise elder she once knew in her younger years. Before Greenwood became Mirkwood, in the second age. The old elleth had long since traveled to the undying lands, but Amaniel always remembered her clearly. She looked up to her in many ways, and every syllable of the elder's advice was taken to heart. Often would her words cross Amaniel's mind, especially in moments like this one.
"I suppose I can only tell the truth, and hope to Valar they might hear my honesty." She dreaded admitting her intentions to the council. None before them had taken kindly to her, and she expected no different this time. At least previously she'd been given time to learn the people and gain their favor, but now she could only rely on wit and her choice of words. When the hour of the council arrived, Amaniel was escorted by Lanairen to the meeting hall. The young guard's steps were sure and confident, in great contrast to the royal guest's. Her feet were unfamiliar with their path, though they knew their imminent destination. Still, Amaniel strove fore a graceful composure as she entered the room. All eyes fell on her as the great heavy doors thudded shut behind her. She smiled in kind to the many elders who sat neatly along the table, the Elvenking at the head.
"Lady Amaniel," he gestured her to the seat on his right. A trifle lower than his was the chair; still, it loomed above the many which seated the council members. She glided over, giving her best effort to appear confident.
"Our guest is here to explain her intentions, in full, to the council." Thranduil announced simply, turning to her in expectation. The she-elf tucked her skirt neatly beneath her as she perched onto the chair. "In elvish.." she decided, taking a calming, preperatory breath.
"I came seeking refuge from the orcs that tailed me. Their numbers were too great for me to fend off alone." she began, looking over the elves steadily. Immediately, whispers of speculation broke out among them, and Amaniel wondered if they truly bothered to hide their conversation, or only meant to taunt her. She spoke up.
"I admit to taking advantage of the forest guard."
Conversation grew louder at her confession. Words like, "She put us all in danger!" or, "What kind of trouble could the selfish wraith cause to draw so many orcs after her?". Amaniel wanted to cover her ears and hide from their suspicious eyes. One elf stood, looking at her pointedly.
"Why did the orcs chase you?" he asserted over the noise. Immediately everyone silenced. The she-elf swallowed thickly, clasping her hands in her lap.
"My blood is cursed, by a dark sorcerer."
Thranduil watched her intently from his high vantage point, his expression unchanging. His gues only seemed to become more interesting by the second, and he wondered how she came about a sorcerer in the first place. What could she have done to incur one's wrath? Questions swirled in his mind like a starving, one-winged vampire. Still, he willed himself to remain quiet and let the meeting unfold on its own.
"I would only pass through so Mirkwood will not be endangered, should you allow it." Amaniel nearly pleaded, an edge of desperation in her voice.
"She should be punished for her crimes against Mirkwood!"
"Get her far away from here! Orcs could be on our boarders as we speak!"
The king sat silently in thought. To a point, the council was right to want her punishment. But he understood it; how it felt to be faced with death. What can an elf do but seek help? She seemed to have no want for his kingdom's destruction. What punishment could he give for her hope to survive? The Forest Guard was fully capable.
"Silence," he said smoothly, leading the room to an immediate hush. He looked over to the elleth, studying her expression. Calm and composed; yet beyond her eyes was a guilt that rivaled any punishment he could order. Her guilt would suffice.
"She will leave with an escort to the edge of the forest." he decided.
"My king, you believe her crime should go unpunished?" One nearest to the head spoke up. A younger elf, wearing the guard uniform.
"She punishes herself, Captain." he paused, glancing away for a fraction of a second. "You shall be her escort; I will rely on your ability to lead her safely." Thranduil stood from his seat. "The council is dismissed."