The sixteenth sun of the seventh moon ~ Rivendell
I have shown what I've written to my mother and my half sisters Dipka and Dipiki. My sisters laughed and turned away, but my mother counsiled me on my writing style and encourages me to continiue.
I left you last at the Grey Havens, from there, I fell ill for two moons and remember not my first journey to Rivendell. I only know the path that we traveled from my mother. We passed between the white downs and the annuminas..some thing or other...to the Shire, where the little Hobbits live. Seeing them for the first time on my second journey, they are a strange people indeed.
With no laws or law enforcers how can they live so peacefully? They are not great warriors or counted among the very wise in this Middle Earth, but there is something inherently good and decent about them. They have no sense of conquest or power about them, like men do. Men ask how can I get more power and influence? A Hobbit might ask how can I get more cake and ale? They are remarkable. Their little holes seem charming and comfortable, never overdone like our grand halls, but I digress. It seems strange not to mention them though I'm not sure why. They do not seem to be a particularly important people to Middle Earth, and yet...I feel that they deserve mention.
We arrived in Rivendell on the seventh sun of the fifth moon of our journey. After receiving the gifts of turquiose, aquamarines, pearls, silver, and much more, Elrond himself tended to my illness and the very next day I had been cured. I look now upon the kindness of Elrond with much praise and hope that his family is blessed for all the long years of their Elf lives.
Rivendell is equally as beautiful as The Grey Havens if not more so. Large, sloping rooftops cover their fair elven heads, and below them, under the stone white water cascades down into the river below. Once more the architechure of the Elves amazed me. Elrond has one daughter, Arwen, and she is even more beautiful than my mother, and much much older. Young she is, and yet not so. The braids of her dark hair were touched with no frost; her white arms and clear face are flawless and smooth. The light of the stars is in her grey eyes and thought and knowlege in her glance. It was she who kept me company during our stay in Rivendell. My older sisters were far too busy playing in the waters, drinking the elvish wine, and flirting with the elven men to bother with me. Arwen taught me two languages in six moons, Sindarin, and what is known here as "The common tongue." It is remarkable that so many races speak one language. I do not know whether the swiftness of my learning was the result of her elf magic, or my eagerness to learn even more,
But while I do wish to do my stay in Rivendell justice, I am most anxious to tell of the next part of my journey, so Rivendell must wait for another time, perhaps.
With swiftness we traveled over the great mountains, our final destination was the Elven King Thranduil's home in Mirkwood. Oh of what dangers we were warned! Goblins and Giants and Trolls and all manner of vicious beasts that would like nothing more than to feast on our flesh! I was terribly afraid, and Esha was so fearful that she chose to stay behind in Rivendell. Thankfully nothing befell us, the reason for that, is still unknown to me.
We reached Mirkwood on the fifth sun of the ninth moon. I will never forget the vastness of this forest, nor its' majesty. As I've said I saw many things in Middle Earth that struck me like a bell resonating from within. Mirkwood was one of these places. The twisting, towering trees were truly wonders of nature. However, it was not a particularly pleasant place. We stayed on the path that Elrond sent us, and the nights were particularly wearisome. Lighting a fire was ill advised, and we shortly saw why. The light drew monstrous moths and many eyes in the darkness. I was very much disgruntled, and in a state of mortal terror almost every day. It came as a great comfort to know that we were fast approaching the realm of the Elven King.
(It is here that Shreya begins to go into detail about her travels, signifying their importance to her.)
I learned later that King Thranduil had sent scouts into the wood and anticipated our coming, though from his greeting, you would not realize that.
I wonder how we must have looked to his scouts, they must have been mightily impressed by our grand caravan. From what I have since heard about this Elvenking, if he had not heard of what we looked like beforehand he might not have welcomed us so readily. With fifteen mounted riders striding on either side of three horse drawn carriages, my father in the front, my mother and I in the second, and Divya and her daughters in the third, we must have seemed like terribly important people. Our carriages were enclosed with the light aqua blue silk curtains hand woven by our seamstresses at the palace. Our riders carried our flag and insignia, a white crystal star on the same aqua blue background. Oh yes, we must have been a sight for those elf scouts.
The great stone doors of his city opened wide for our coming, and the king himself stood waiting for us, with all of his court. I saw dwellings of the elves in the trees and on the ground but the king's stone fortress stole most of my attention. A towering staircase as old as any I have yet seen led to richly carved wooden doors set in a great stone wall, in a stone courtyard with a beech tree in full blossom. I could not see any other part of his home, and I wondered if it was underground. The captain of our small group of soldiers dismounted and declared (poorly) in the common tongue,
"His Majesty King Amar of the Isle of Imtros sends greetings to the King of The Woodland Realm!"
Our servants brought forward the many boxes of pearls, gems, and silks, opening them before the Elvenking.
"His Majesty hopes these precious gifts from our shores will be repaid with hospitality on his journey of knowledge and understanding."
"Of course, of course!" The Elvenking laughed.
He seemed to find the formality amusing, but peeking out from behind the curtain, I did not fail to notice his light eyes lingering hungrily on the gems. My mother put a hand on my small shoulder, drawing me back inside, and making quiet worried clucking noises. I sighed. My mother straightened her royal headdress, to appear as refined as possible, as she knew my father would like her to be. She then turned to me, and made sure I was smart enough for the King. As a child of (twelve), I was not yet permitted to wear the silver breast plates and belts that my mother, Divya, Dipka, and Dipiki were. A girl does not become a woman in our culture until the age of (fifteen). I wore a blue silk sash wrapped tightly around the hard little apples that had begun to poke out of my chest. This sash was then thrown over my shoulders and crossed at the collar bone. I also was not permitted the fancy silver headresses, that rose from the older womens' temples in high points. Instead I wore only two strands of silver cord, braided through locks of my hair and pulled back, secured with a silver clasp in the shape of a dolphin. I was most definitely not impressive or regal like my parents. I often felt insignificant when I stood next to them. The nobles and senators in my kingdom may stop to pat my head, but never ask what I think...of anything.
"Her Majesty Queen Avanti Jaidev, and her daughter, Princess Shreya Jaidev.".
The captain announced my mother and I, and with a sigh, she stepped out of the carriage. I followed her to stand beside my father. Divya and her daughters followed us. All of the women bowed to the King and said,
"We are honored to meet you."
Divya and her daughters had poor pronunciation which made me smirk. Dipka and Dipiki are not particularly ugly, but they are tall and gangling, with long necks and noses, like their mother. They reminded me of geese. Their antics seemed utterly foolish to me, and yet I was jealous of their maturity. Their ability to flirt and use their womanly charms to their advantage, despite their limitations made my heart sore with envy. Their mother was (and is) also very vain, and wore much more jewelry than my mother, even though she was only the second wife. But though my father seemed to enjoy her girlish giggles, my mother remained the first wife, because she was the only one to bear him a son. My mother is a regal woman, born of noble blood and knows how to carry herself as such. Not to mention, she doesn't need jewelry to make herself beautiful.
"...and nor will you." she often said to me.
The Elvenking introduced his only son and heir, Legolas Thranduilion. He looked very much like his father, with golden hair plaited and a long, handsome face. He had an expression of seriousness, however, and did not seem to be one to trifle with. He bowed stiffly to my father, and passed his light eyes over us women. There was a certain disapproval in his gaze. I knew that their culture did not believe in polygamy and, sharing my life with people like Divya and her daughters, I privately agreed. He looked at my mother first, and the longest, then to Divya, next her daughters, and finally me, spending not more than a glance. Inwardly I resented it.
Later that night, in the gloomy, but warm underground settings of the Elvenking's keep, I fantasized that I would someday be the one who is bowed to, looked at the longest and most wonderingly.
I awoke the next morning to the sounds of my mother's worried clucking.
"You will sleep the day away, my little Shri."
Shri is my mother's nickname for me; in our language it means "radiant light." My mother often said that when Rama was away training, if it weren't for me she'd only have Divya and her two geese daughters for company. She'd said that I was her light in a dark room. My father chose my name Shreya, meaning "lucky" because my mother had a hard time bearing me, and almost lost me at one point.
"What is there to do?" I asked, grumpy and petulant.
"You could go and find someone to teach you about these wood elves' ways." she replied patiently, running an ivory comb through my hair.
"But mother, they do not wish to speak to me, I am nothing but a shadow girl to them!"
This I found, was perfectly true. At the feast the Elvenking had in our honor the previous night, I may as well have been a small fly at the table, for all the attention anyone showed me. My mother did not reply for a long while, as she fixed my hair. After setting the dolphin clasp, she clapped her hands and one of our servant girls, Neva, came and dressed me. After Neva had bowed herself out of the stone room, my mother said,
"Then you may go and spend time with Dipka and Dipiki. They are in the courtyard."
"Oh no, mother!"
"Silence! I will not stand for an idle daughter. Go."
I stood there for a moment but faltered under her fierce turquiose stare.
I headed up the long hallways, bowing to the many elves I met along the way, saying "Good Morning." In their native toungue as my mother instructed me to do. They were a merry bunch, but never stopped to talk to me.
When I reached the courtyard, I saw Dipka and Dipiki standing in their long, elegant skirts and tight, revealing sashes. They were talking to a pair of tall elven men whose names I did not know. They were batting eyelashes and laughing girlishly, speaking their own garbled version of the common toungue. I gathered my courage and walked to them.
"Why, if it isn't little Shri." Dipka said with mock delight, turning to face me.
"Not so little anymore, Dipka, just look at those little mosquito bites poking out of her sash." said Dipiki with a giggle.
They said this to me in our own language and so, the Elf men did not know how wicked they really were.
"What do you want?" said Dipka.
"My mother wishes me to accompany you today, sister."
"Ah so, Miss Perfect is trying to foist the little barnacle on us." said Dipiki.
"Well you cannot burden us today, we are going on a picnic with Millyra and Sassa here." said Dipka.
"So have fun staying home, little Shri." said Dipiki. They laughed, taking the arms of the Elf men, and strolling gaily away.
I do not believe I had ever been so reckless in my life before then, to disobey an elder. I do not know whether it was the air of mirkwood, or the simple fact that my half sisters were unbearably cruel at that moment, but I followed after them.
They walked along a dimly lit forest path, among the other elf dwellings, laughing and talking. I was hoping of course to catch them doing something wrongful so as to report it back to someone important. I stayed several (yards) behind them, jumping behind a tree on the edge of the path whenever they glanced over their shoulders, perhaps hearing me creep along. The keen ears of the Elves cannot be fooled, but whenever one of the Elf men looked back, and voiced his notion that they were being followed, Dipka or Dipiki would laugh and assure them that such a thing was preposterous. Nonetheless, the frequent jumping off the path I had to do was what caused me to fall.
On my third or fourth jump, I suddenly lost my footing and tumbled down a small, steep, slope into a stream. I was so surprised that no sound came out of my mouth, I could only watch, horrified as the cold clear water came up to meet me.
With a splash I plunged into the stream, at the same time, feeling sharp pains in my arm and leg. When I saw the red running through the water, that's when I let a small scream escape my lips. I heard the sounds of running feet above me and soon saw one of the Elf men looking down at me. Then Dipka's head appeared next to his.
"Look, your little sister has fallen into the stream!" he said.
Dipka's mouth curled into a cruel smile.
"Won't you help her, Millyra?" she said.
"I thought I heard the sounds of small feet behind us." he said as he climbed down nimbly. His strong arms scooped me out of the water.
My leg hurt terribly, but it did not hurt as much as the knowlege of how much trouble I would get into for this.
Millyra carried me back to the stone courtyard, where the one person I did not wish to see more than anyone was standing, as if waiting for my arrival.
"What has happened to this child?" Divya asked, looking down her long nose at me.
"Oh, mother..." Dipka sighed exageratedly.
"Avanti told her to come and see us. We asked her to stay behind, but she must have been so eager to obey her mother that she followed us, and she fell into the stream when she slipped off the path." said Dipiki.
Divya's mouth curled up into the same cruel smile as her daughters.
She turned to Millyra and said to him in poor common tongue,
"Thank you, young sir."
He bowed respectfully.
"Come, child." she said to me. I had no choice but to follow her. She took my arm in what would seem to be a helpful and maternal gesture, but her grip was tight, as though I were a fish that she'd been trying to catch and had finally caught.
She led me swiftly through the wooden doors, and down a path into a small room in the wing of the caves that had been given to us. I caught a glimpse of Dipka and Dipiki laughing to one another as the doors closed. My father and mother were sitting side by side on a fine couch while the Elvenking stood, talking to them. My mothers eyes grew wide as she took in my appearance, and Divya's sneer became more pronounced.
"So sorry to interrupt, your Majesty." she said in the common toungue to the Elvenking, bowing.
"Look, your Grace." she said to my father in our language. "Young Shreya has fallen into the stream, she's injured!"
"How did this happen?" my father demanded.
"She was following Dipka and Dipiki along the forest path and slipped. Apparently they asked her to stay behind, but Avanti insisted that she go with them. I'm sure she didn't mean for it to happen." she said, looking at my mother.
Her words were kind, but her intentions were wicked. I saw my mother bow her head in shame, and apologize humbly to my father who only chastised her slightly. But when she looked up at me, it was with a disappointment that reached into my soul and made me bow my head with shame as well.
My mother led me from the room gently but did not utter a word. She said nothing until my soiled clothes were discarded and Neva was dressing my small wounds. I sat on the bed in my undergarments and watched my mother pace angrily. Finally---
"Shame on you! Because of your foolishness, that woman has made me look the fool in front of your father and the Elvenking!"
She paused and glared at me, making my head hang ever lower.
"You will stay in this room for the remainder of the day and night. And you will not set foot outside the courtyard again! It seems you cannot handle that responsability."
She turned on her heel and walked out of the room, slamming the door.
The next day, I was not roused by my mother but, by Neva. I asked her hopefully if my mother wanted to see me. Neva looked at me sadly and shook her head.
After Neva had dressed me and set my long black hair, I wandered the long corridors, not speaking to anyone, and no one spoke to me. I was just as unimportant as before, and now with unsightly bandages on my arm and leg.
Very soon the stifling closeness of the stone walls sent me out into the courtyard. The trees swayed in the spring breeze tantalizingly beyond the courtyard. Dipka and Dipiki passed by, smirking at me over their shoulders as they went into the wood, no doubt to meet the elves from yesterday. I sighed, close to tears. I went and sat in the shade of the beech tree in the courtyard. I tried to keep my composure, but I was only (twelve) after all. Soon I was curled into a fetal position, my head in my arms, weeping. I heard many feet pass by but none stopped to ask what was the matter. This made me cry harder. I did this for about fifteen minutes.
"It is too glorious a spring day to be so unhappy." A kind voice spoke above me.
Ordinarily a Noble Elf wouldn't even notice a young mortal like me, especially if I was making a fool of myself by crying. If he did notice me, it would have been to order me out of his way or some such thing. Yet not only had this Elf bothered to speak to me, he'd spoken kindly. He'd spoken to me in a way that suggested I might be a young woman of standing. The daughter of a good friend perhaps.
I looked up at the speaker and blinked my tears away, astonished. It was Prince Legolas Thranduilion. He was looking directly into my eyes, with a small encouraging smile on his lips. His golden hair shone in the sunlight and his fair complexion seemed to glow. I had always marveled over the fairness of the elves but his beauty extended beyond sight and into soul. I blushed and looked away.
"Be not afraid to look upon me, Shreya Jaidev." he said in that same gentle tone.
At the sound of my name, I hastily wiped the tear tracks from my face and glanced back at him. I was now embarrassed and looked away again.
"My father tells me you fell into the stream. It is nothing to be ashamed of, we all stumble from time to time."
I was amazed that he knew all this and had troubled to remember it. I looked at him again.
"Thank you for your kindness." was all I managed to say.
He smiled and reached up to finger a twig of blossoms from the beech tree.
"I have watched this tree grow from only a seed. It was something small and---"
He looked back at me.
"---insignificant, and it grew into this resplendent tree we behold today."
As I looked at him, I realized what he meant by his words, and flushed with delight. What is there to this tale? For a short moment I imagined a world completely different from the one I'd known thus far. A world in which I was treated with respect, fairness even kindness. A world in which I was not at the mercy of women with wicked hearts. He was in this world.
His smile widened at my obvious pleasure, and he pulled the twig of blossoms from the branch and handed it to me.
"Smile for me, won't you?" he said.
I could not hold my smile back for another moment. He laughed gaily. I caught a glimpse of two elf maidens standing some ways off, eying Legolas with apparent desire.
I set the twig down and stuck my fingers into the cartilage of my ears, making them pointed.
"Now, I'm an elf also." I said in elvish.
He laughed again and knelt on the grass in front of me.
"So you are, my lady." he replied in elvish. "We must think of a name for you."
He seemed to ponder for a moment before clapping his hands lightly and saying,
"From this day onward you shall be known as Aearelen."
"Sea star?" I said in the common tongue. He nodded.
"But who shall call me by this name?" I asked.
"I shall." he said.
I looked down, blushing again.
The Elvenking suddenly called his name from across the courtyard.
He rose gracefully and bowed low to me.
"Farewell my lady Aearelen."
And he strode away on light feet.
"Farewell, Prince of Elves." I said quietly, clutching the twig of beech blossoms to my chest.
What more has to be said for this? I watched him walk away with sickness in my heart, though it was a pleasing kind of sickness. I mean to say, if one experiences an evening more exciting than any in one's life, they are saddened to see it end; and yet one still feels grateful that it happened.
Even after Legolas had disappeared from sight, I remained beneath the beech tree, only to make my encounter with him last longer in my mind. The wind wafted the smell of the woods my way, and it seemed startling and complex, only because of my heightened senses, I feel.
I told only the servant girl Neva of my meeting with the Elf prince, and proudly displayed the twig of blooms to her. I only regretted that the flowers would wither soon, and then be lost forever, leaving me with only a memory of their sweet scent.
The next day, Neva procured a small wooden box, in which the twig fit perfectly. I thanked her much for this gift that would preserve our moment together. I knew not where she found this box, but heard Divya complaining to her daughters that she suspected her servants of stealing from her.
* * *
Although I should have very much liked to speak with Legolas again during the remainder of our stay in Mirkwood, I seldom saw him except for the many feasts that the Elvenking held, and those were not appropriate moments for me to speak to him. I suspected that he was not even in the city for most of the time I stayed there, but this was speculation only.
When the time came for my family to begin the long journey home, I was terribly heartsick. I wanted to reamin there, but of course I had no say in the matter. I saw Legolas Thranduilion for the last time as I followed my mother into the carriage, and, though you may not believe me, he looked at me as well. I smiled at him, and though the lines of his mouth remained stern, I saw a smile playing around his eyes. This gave me great pleasure as we marched through the gates...it also gave me a terrible longing that remained with me for the rest of my days in Middle Earth, and even when I reached the shores of Imtros again.
I longed for the chance to return to Middle Earth, and some (ten years) later I received it.
The senate was now pushing my father to return and do trade with the peoples of Middle Earth. My brother Rama insisted upon making the journey with us. My father's third wife Esha resigned herself to stay, with her newborn daughter, Mirah. In my father's stead as king he had no choice but to leave Count Devadas, the head of the senate, and Divya's brother. He is a hard man, and quite as venemous as his sister, but he is clever and will not run my father's kingdom unjustly. Or so we under the sacred fire must hope.
We come to the present. I am once more in Rivendell, and much has changed in the (decade) I have been away. I am now (twenty-two), and a woman by the standards of our people. Many suitors have come asking for my hand, but since it is law that a princess will marry who she deems worthy, I have accepted no one for this or that reason. My parents seem frustrated by this, but they do not know of my ever burning passion for Legolas Thranduilion.
When Arwen saw me as she passed by my room with her servant, she abandoned all pretense of formaility and rushed to me saying,
"Do your eyes see as mine do, Védith? I hardly recognize her."
"I am glad to hear you say it, my lady." Védith replied. "I thought my eyes had been cheated by a spell."
There was no mystery in these remarks. I had grown very much like a tree in the subsequent (ten years). Arwen asked me to turn my head this way and that, repeating the words, "As lovely a mortal as mine eyes have yet seen." At one point, Védith even asked me to hold out my arms so as to measure my waist and hips with her hands. She did this very unabashedly, and this action would have put a frown on my mothers' face, for our women's clothes reveal the midriff.
This was not the only change since my last visit to Middle Earth. A malevolence sweeps across this land, though we do not know from whence it comes. Even the merry Hobbits in their sheltered lands are affected by it. Elrond greeted my father with little enthusiasm, and stated to him in private that this was a most inauspicious time for his coming. That was all my mother said of the matter, for of course I was not present for this meeting.
A hobbit resides here named Bilbo Baggins. He is elderly and feeble looking, and when he was introduced to us, my father did not bow to him, but gave him a very curt nod. Later that evening, during the feast held in our honor, he told us of his travels and adventures. Oh how he could make bloody battles sound thrilling instead of mortally perilous. At the feasts' end, my father bowed low to the little (but great) hobbit. There may be hope for my father yet.
One moon after our arrival, and three suns ago a wizard came to Rivendell. He rode in on the most magnificent steed I have yet seen. Mithrandir, they called him, The Grey Pilgrim. Despite his dramatic entrance, my first impression was that of merely an old man with a staff. He had a tall pointed blue hat, a long grey cloak, a silver scarf over which a white beard hung down below his waist, and immense black boots. But I learned from Arwen that tales and adventures sprouted up all over the place wherever he went, in the most extraordinary fashion. And so when Elrond introduced our family to him, I looked at him with an almost fearful wonder. I thought perhaps that his coming had something to do with this Eastern Shadow that I'd been hearing about whilst I was dropping the eaves, as the peoples here say.
I must go now, tales of a new arrival are being shouted through the halls.