Welcome to the next chapter!
Secrets of a Raven Beauty
Boundaries
The past ridiculed and taunted Tauriel, and no matter how many orcs or spiders she cut down, it followed her like a shadow. The swelling emotions in her chest enticed unwanted memories. It was like a burden that shackled her. In the King's vast halls, she was always the strong Captain of the Guard. A mask she wore to give the patrol and her people strength but the elves never saw Tauriel. A young and adventurous elleth who cared for the world beyond her kin. A trait she buried deep beneath her duties. Two different people and one body.
The months past uneasily. Her duties matched those of the prince of Mirkwood. They had little time for themselves but on the patrols, the prince and Tauriel grew a strong bond. A friendship that the Captain of the Guard valued. They knew each other boundaries and their conversation was never invading. Therefore she held him up on the pedestal beside Calaerien and Erweth. With Legolas, she could be Tauriel. She was unmasked and comfortable in her own skin. It was beneath the starlight which she found a new appreciate of what she had, rather than what she didn't. Tauriel learned to trust; A delicate matter that required special nurturing. The last person Tauriel trusted was struck down by a black arrow. It was none other than her father, Hinnoron. There were nights when she thought of her gift. A bow made from the Lothlorien that once represented her inheritance. She found it last month. It hung lifelessly on the branch, rotted and molded; it almost joined nature itself. Now she kept it secluded in her chambers in a secure box along with her memories of her parents. It would remain locked all together.
The past was in the past.
Tauriel brushed her fingers over her current bow. It was powerful, study and worthy for any skilled marksman, but it held no important memoirs. Engraved designs that molded with elvish words of her promise to King Thranduil. A sworn oath she took when she joined his military. It was a reminder of her place amongst her people. Despite her oath to the king, Hinnoron's words repeated like a mantra in her mind.
"Never forget where you came from Tauriel…"
Tauriel closed her eyes remorsefully. There were other lands beyond her home that were of this world. Day by day, Tauriel felt the evil growing and knew eventually it would try to take a foothold. When that day comes, King Thranduil would hide behind his walls. Tauriel frowned to that thought. Anger shimmered on the surface and her hand tightened on her bow. When she reopened her eyes, they hardened.
It was time to hunt…
The night sky veiled across the horizon as the sun descended in the east. A shade of orange illuminated across the clouds and retreated from the dark canvas. Before long, darkness swathed the lands and the starlight dazzled brightly. The Forest of Mirkwood was filled with eerie sounds and shadows. There wasn't the slightest indication of the elven patrol sprinting through the forest. The elves were silent and swift. They hastened through the trees and felt foul things larking in the darkness. Tauriel took her route through the trees and leaped from one branch to another along side of Legolas. Not a single thud was in their wake. There was no prints or signs of their hastened approach to the outskirts.
Legolas suddenly halted on a branch, crunched against the body of the tree and held up his fist to signal his patrol to halt. Silently all the elves came to a stop and listened to the forest's warning: Beware, evil is near.
Tauriel stood on a branch higher than her prince and stiffened to the eerie sounds in the forest. Branches cracked in the distance as the spiders neared. They were cunning and dangerous. Though the elves could hear the foul things approach, they waited for their prey to reveal themselves. The critters came from all directions, neared closer and closer. Tauriel's hand tingled with anticipation as it hovered over her bow.
...crack...
Suddenly Tauriel snapped her head toward the sky when the branches cracked in protest to a large weight. Large spiders descended down from their webs, fangs dripping with venom and hissing at her. Others came at the side and surrounded the patrol. Tauriel smiled in triumph when the elves became animated. She knocked her arrow and pierced the nearest spider in the mouth. The arrowhead punctured through the skull as the spider screeched and its body relaxed in death. It fell from the branch and smashed to the ground.
Gaelira charged swiftly then she allowed her body to slide beneath a spider and sliced through the spider's intestines. The elleth immediately came to her feet and followed Maenor toward the spider nests perched on the sides of the tree trunks. They destroyed the pest before they could hatch. The eggs were soft and easily splintered. The undeveloped fetuses bled out and splattered on the ground. Gaelira frowned at the warm yolk that drenched her right arm and resisted to groan in disgust. What was worse, she gasped at the yolk on the ends of hair. Gaelira sighed irritatedly before she continued to aid her patrol.
More spiders came crawling over the thick branches and hissed furiously when their nest were destroyed. They circled around Gaelira in revenge when Legolas flipped over a branch and bared his white daggers. He landed on top of a spider and plowed his daggers into the creature's body. When a soft pain came to Legolas's ears, he leaped off before the spider landed on the ground. Legolas turned, nocked another arrow and shot another spider. Legolas's attention was ensnared by a hiss that neared Tauriel. When a smug smirk developed on his lips, Legolas stealthy came from behind.
Tauriel shot another spider in mid-air before she landed perfected on her feet. She turned when a hiss came from behind and when she reached for his dagger, an arrow whistled passed her ear and marked in the spider's eye. Tauriel sighed irritated when she recognized the feathers on the arrow. When she turned she found a smug prince who took her kill. A habit he developed while he hunted with the sons of Elrond. Her frown expression only made the prince smile wider and he arrogantly noted, "I thought I should offer you my aid, Tauriel."
"How thoughtful." She replied dryly and hated when Legolas pulled those types of stunts.
Legolas replace his bow in his quiver but his smile never faded and his blue eyes shined with gleam. It was awfully easy to get beneath Tauriel's skin which was something he did gladly from time to time.
Meanwhile Gaelira attempted to remove the slime from her arm and grimaced to the horrific smell. She quivered in disgust before she approached Legolas and intervened, "My lord?" When he regarded her curiously, she continued, "The forest is clear for the moment."
Maenor came to Gaelira side and smelt the yolk on he arm. A frown grew before he added, "More will come. They always do..."
Tauriel looked away mournfully and silently agreed with Maenor. The smile on Legolas's face faded into a stern expression. He regarded them with firm nod before he commanded, "Let us make haste to the borders."
The elves nodded in unison to the command and followed Legolas's lead. They picked up their pace and after several miles through the forest, they reached the outskirts. As they slowed their approach, they remain hidden behind the large trees and silently listened. Legolas crunched beside a tree trunk, camouflaged and eyed the green planes with sharp eyes. When he placed a hand on the tree, he heard its warning.
Beware, they come!
"They are near." Legolas murmured lowly and they patrol readied themselves. Some took refuge in the branch while others held their position. They waited under the cover of darkness, hidden in the shadows and listened to the sounds that the wind carried.
Tauriel waited with limited patience for these four creatures to reveal themselves. As she brushed the feathers against her finger, anticipation swelled and bred eagerness to demolish the darkness. Her hands tightened on her bow and her fingers inched for a release. She recognized this part of the borders. This would have been the entrance to her company five hundred years ago and the tree that Legolas crunched by was where Tauriel and Calaerien fled. Anger boiled in her chest to those memories. They came rushing and almost broker her focus. Those who she cared deeply for stripped from her. Not this time filths...
The enemy was not sighted until they rounded over a hill. It was a small pack, but no less dangerous. Legolas grimaced in disgust. The rumors of orcs neared the borders were true, much to his dismay. His hand tightened on his bow as his eyes pierced through the dimness of the night and examined the foul creature. Judging by their height and how they snarl with pathetic sounds, Legolas assumed them to be weakling. Newly bred and fitted for hunting before they completed their malicious training.
The elves remain concealed, readied their bows and waited for Legolas's signal. The orcs drew near the borders, sniffed the air and groaned in the darkness. Legolas's eyes narrowed when they came closer and closer. The feathers of his arrow, brushed against his cheek and forced anticipation to swell. He cocked his head to the side, listening to the trees. It won't be long before the orcs caught their scent but, Legolas wanted them close enough to avoid deserters. This would be a clean kill.
Legolas's eyes widened when the orcs passed into their territory and swiftly he released his arrow. The patrol followed in pursuit and swiftly knocked another arrow. Before the orcs had time to react, arrows swooped through the air and dropped the first line of orcs. These orcs scrambled in confusion before they draw their swords and searched for the source. Another set of arrows struck the orcs and left only seven stragglers. Angrily the remaining orcs hauled their weapons and ran aimlessly into the forest before a final blow knocked them to the ground.
Silence filled the air again as Legolas listened to the wind and trees but no further warning came. When Legolas rose from his position, the patrol regathered to their prince and sheath their weapons. The Prince was the first to step out to the outskirts of the forest and into the open with caution.
"That was relatively effortless." Maenor muttered deeply, almost sounded disappointed for the lack of a challenge. He scanned the planes that was now sprinkled with dead orcs.
"Aye. They are young filths, not properly trained." Tauriel added as she approached the closest dead orc with disgust and she kicked it shoulder to roll it over. The creature's face was twisted in pain with a full view of gruesome and unkept teeth. The skin alone made Tauriel's stomach twist. The face reminded her of the fifth that attempted to bargain Calaerien's life. A deep frown developed on her lips in anger. How she wished to rid the world of all of Morgoth's creations. Then Tauriel inquired curiously, "To why these creatures were around the borders has me curious. Why waste younglings?"
"There are orcs." Another guard answered by the name of Nevath: a young newly guard to the patrol by the decree of the King. His age surpassed Tauriel's but centuries younger than Legolas. His light brown hair cascaded down his shoulders as his green eyes looked upon Tauriel. "They have no means of intelligence."
Tauriel felt a strange feeling in her gut. More like recoiling to the way Nevath looked upon her with interest. Tauriel looked away swiftly and did not want to encourage further attention from the elf. Though he was handsome and fair in comparison to his kin, Nevath was young-minded and inexperienced. Ever since he joined the patrol, she felt his eyes and she would stiffened uncomfortably.
"Do not underestimate them Nevath." Legolas corrected as he reluctantly removed his eyes from the scenery to the young elf. The prince regarded him with sharp eyes that held years of experience. He continued in with a warning tone, "Intelligence or no, they are indeed dangerous. To underestimate your enemy will be your downfall."
Nevath swiftly nodded, hated be corrected amongst his peers. He grind his teeth as his face hardened and looked away.
Legolas looked to Tauriel who appeared to be relieved to be out of Nevath's eye view. When they locked eyes, Tauriel barely cracked a smile in appreciation.
"The borders are safe for the moment." Maenor informed, wanted to redirect their attention to the task at hand and ignored comments from Nevath. "There is no further warning of fell things here."
"Aye." Legolas agreed. "Search them."
Maenor carried out his Lord's command and urged the elves to make haste. They search through armor of the orcs for any evidence or clues that might explain the orc's duties. The patrol grimaced as they removed pieces of armor but the weaklings held nothing of significance. Maenor shoved the ugliest orc, and silently cursed these foul beast. He wished he and his kin left one alive for questioning.
Tauriel moved away from the orc that she recently searched and fell into disappointment for finding nothing. It was no surprise to her. Weaklings held no value and they were untrusted by their own peers. Aimlessly, she moved around and her eyes scanned the terrain in recognition. Slowly she turned in place and stared up at a tree in remembrance. She could almost vision shoving a small Calaerien up that tree when they hid from the battle. Five hundred years wasn't long enough to forgive what has transpired that night. For a moment, she allowed her memories to stream before her mind. It was here when she found the glass flower and her old bow about a month ago. Small trinkets that held such emotions for the both of them. Tauriel stiffened when her mind replayed her mother's scream and Calaerien's whimpering. Will her mother ever stop haunting her?
Legolas heard a deep sigh from his Captain of the Guard and when turned his attention to her, Tauriel stared non-observantly at a tall and thick tree. He watched her curiously when he felt her fury and saw her hand tightened into a fist. By the expression on her face, Legolas thought she would tear the world apart. It was hard to miss the seething air that she unknowingly radiated. Legolas came beside her and inquired, "Tauriel?"
A startled Tauriel flinched in surprise as she looked to her prince with wide unguarded eyes.
"What is it?" Legolas furthered question.
"Nothing." She replied all to fast, dropped her gaze and walked away, "It is nothing."
"I remember this place." He uttered silently with remembrance and understood what plagued his Captain of the Guard. She had the similar distant look in her eyes when they visited the border last month. Tauriel stopped but did not turn to face her prince but listened to his thick voice, "It was near the clearing where my patrol found you. Is this the cause of your withdraw?"
His voice was low, barely above a whisper. Tauriel had to strain to hear but it was for her benefit; not to capture the attention of the patrol. After all these years, Legolas respected her desire to keep her past quiet. Tauriel finally turned and regarded her prince with a passive expression but in her eyes there was sorrow, "Aye, I remember as well."
When Tauriel looked up at the high branch of the tree, Legolas followed her gaze. He wondered what was it about this tree that elicit such emotion for her. Tauriel reluctantly looked to Legolas again and had an overwhelming desire to share her story. After many years of bottling up her emotions, Tauriel wanted— but a moment— of a release. She never spoke of that night nor had Calaerien.
"Calaerien and I…" Tauriel struggled to begin in a whisper as her eyes dropped to the ground and then to her patrol. Legolas suddenly became interested and took a step forward. Tauriel reconnected their gaze and began again, "We hid in that tree until dawn…"
Legolas's eyebrows knitted together in confusion as he tilted his face to the side. Tauriel strived to continue but her voice was pinned in her throat and with much effort Tauriel hardened herself again. Swallowed a large lump and bottled those memories deep inside. This was not the time to speak of such thing. She pursed her lips tightly together, looked away and murmured, "Forgive me my lord. The past is the past. Shall we depart?"
Calaerien repeated her morning like the days before. She aided Erweth in the King's chambers but far from the wine. It was luck that the wine did not set long enough to stain the wood but Erweth had to sacrifice her dress. Although Erweth mentioned nothing, Calaerien felt her disappointment. Erweth favored that dress. Therefore after her morning duties, Calaerien spent her time spinning on her wheel.
It was guilt that had Calaerien spinning furiously to create new yarn over the last two weeks and then weave the yarn on the loom. It was a tedious tasks that demanded absolute focus. Calaerien intended to craft her mother a new dress. Her old one was simply nonexistent but it held a significance. Her father traded for that dress centuries ago. It was simple design for Erweth to wear while serving the Lady of the Light. There was a memory that was now lost.
Calaerien would make a duplicate.
Hours passed and Calaerien finished weaving on the loom. Finally sheets of fabric was at her disposal. The weaving was knit-tight and dyed with a soft yellow hue. Calaerien hummed a song while she began to slice the fabric into the appropriate dimensions. Typically she would ask her mother to serve as a mannequin while she pieced the fabric together. For this project, Calaerien would go by memory. A surprise gift for her mother.
She sew the pieces together delicately. When the sun burned her face from the window, she glance outside where the sun was slowly setting over the mountain. Her mother would return soon and Calaerien would hide the dress in her unmentionables until the following day. It was her hope to finish the dress in several days time but she had to finish Calaphel's dress.
Sighing, Calaerien continued to work diligently.
Five days later
It was late in the evening. The king sat alone at the head of a table in his private dining chambers. It served the royal family and their guest. Secluded from the grand hall for private occasions. Now Thranduil often broke bread with his son in this chamber or alone.
The room was dimmed with the evening orange light beamed through the windows that hovered over Thranduil's head. It was a long and narrow room. Candlelights illuminated the corners. The table sat almost twenty people which left the King alone with nineteen empty chairs. He grew accustom to it, although to his left, Legolas would sit. It was empty. To his right, the queen once sat there. It had been vacanted for many centuries.
King Thranduil sighed as he sipped his red wine and stare non-observantly. Memories of his youth flowed like spirits across the room. He was given little time to indulge in such things. Before the War of Dagorlad, feast were hosted to give the elves of Greenwood tranquility. Only for a short time. The late King Orophor once sat at the other end of the table, hosted grand feast for a selected few. Thranduil's mother, a silver head beauty clan in golden attire, sat at his right and shared stories of their time in Doriath. Thranduil boldly remained at the other end of the table, hand clasped with his betrothed and toasted to peace. A young Legolas joined that conversation with delight. A merry gathering that now haunted Thranduil.
The king's eyes shifted to the side where the queen once sat. An emptied chair…
The door suddenly swung open and interrupted Thranduil's train of the thought. Erweth marched in with three maids behind her. Erweth carried a tray of food, while the others brought wine and other delicacies. The dishes were displayed before the King, and encouraged him to select his desire. The two maids curtsied before they left Erweth alone in the room. Erweth noticed the distant look in her king's eyes. It took much for the King to fade into memory. In moments like these, Erweth assumed he was thinking of his late wife. She frowned and sympathized in silence. That look was all too familiar.
Without giving Erweth a glance, the King inquired in a strong voice, "I trust all is finished."
The King instantly returned to his guarded demeanor as he set the goblet next to his plate. The corner of Erweth's mouth tilted upward in a small smile. It was the same question as the days before and she replied, "Aye, my lord. As it was yesterday."
The King picked out the foods he desired while Erweth sought to refill his wine. It was a comfortable silence that she grew accustom too. After many years of serving the king, Erweth learned to anticipate his every need. Which she had no doubt that it pleased him. As Thranduil slowly ate cheese, Erweth initiated a conversation, "Calaerien was pleased with the wool you gifted her. In fact she almost finished a dress in matter of weeks."
The King was silent, listening intently before he answered in monotone voice, "Indeed."
It came off as an uninterested response. After a long silence, the king said in a undertone voice, "She is talented."
Erweth paused in her work and glanced at the king in surprise. She could not help but beam to his compliment. The King was not one for flattery, it was pointless to him. Anything that came out of his mouth was as he intended. Whether or not it was kind. It pleased her to know the King thought of her daughter's skills. Erweth put away the tray and continued with her own thoughts, "Aye, though I wish she was not so… timid."
If Erweth was honest with herself, Calaerien was downright timorous. It concerned Erweth. The king remained in silence and heard the settle sigh from his maid. Then he replied passively, "She still young."
Erweth collected the pitcher of wine and refilled the King's goblet again. Lost in thought, Erweth truly wondered if it was Calaerien's age that made her timid. Whilst they lived in Lothlorien, the elves thought her shyness was an oddity. The other elflings beamed, ran through the forest singing and dancing. Once they moved to Mirkwood, Calaerien did not grow with other elflings. Tauriel was an exception but she was forced to age before her time. Even as a mature adult, Calaerien preferred to remain at Erweth's side— dependently. Most elven mothers saw it as devotion. The elleth in question was nervous when she was alone. It simply confused Erweth. It was her hope that Calaerien would marry and bore elflings. Erweth had a strange desire to be a grandmother but Calaerien wished to focus on her craft.
When Erweth was in her youth, she thought mostly of bearing many elflings but after Romonil's death, that dream crumpled. It was a maternal instinct to care for all those she crossed paths with. Without Tauriel ever knowing, Erweth would leave honey in her room to cure her niece's sweet-tooth. The King favored his dark wine and Erweth ensured his pitcher in his chambers was always filled. Legolas had a liking to sweet cakes which one was always saved for the prince once he returned from his patrol. Erweth pursed her lips together in thought and she inquired, "Was Legolas timid?"
The king snapped his sharp eyes to her in disbelief.
The question was out before Erweth could catch herself. The king rarely spoke of his son's youth partly because of his wife. Conjured memories of her brought emotions that the King strived to suppress. It was considered arrogance to inquire such things of the King. Perhaps it was fear. The king kept most people at arms length, aside from his son. Immediately, Erweth was regretful and mumbled, "Forgive me, my lord. It was thoughtless of me to inquire…"
"No." He uttered solely and stopped Erweth's apology. The king was unaccustomed to those types of questions but decided to indulge her, just this once, "But Legolas and Calaerien are not similar. Worry not, Calaerien will come into her own."
Erweth nodded in respect as she took a step back and held the pitcher of wine. There she waited to refill the wine goblet when the door suddenly opened. Out from the corridor, came a weary Legolas. Still clan in his armor and weapons from his recent return from the patrol. Erweth cocked an eyebrow in curiosity. Legolas always dressed appropriately for suppers with his father. Though she suspected Legolas wished to report of the current events at the border.
The king eyed Legolas's eyes attire and arched an eyebrow in question. The prince ignored his father's disapproving glance and approached to the end of the table where his father sat. Legolas glanced to Erweth and offered a tender smile followed by a greeting, "Evening, my lady."
Erweth nodded with respect as her heart warmed to the prince. She always had a soft spot for the elloth. The prince redirected his gaze to his father and immediately began to report in a stern voice, "The forest is cleared."
The king sipped his wine as his careful eyes never averted from Legolas. As he leaned back into his chair, King Thranduil tangled his fingers together in his lap and gave his son his undivided attention. "Good."
"More will come." Legolas retorted firmly in a respectable manner.
"This I knew. We shall protect our border son." King Thranduil looked at the food to his side and picked out several slices of cheese. When the prince made no move to take a seat next to him, the king looked up, "Will you not join me in this hour?"
"Alas, ada." Legolas began, his voice strained with weariness, "I shall retire this night,"
"Of course." King Thranduil looked away, slightly disappointed but would not begrudge his son. "Then I shall see in the morn with a report."
Legolas nodded in respect and turned on his heel to leave the dim room. All he sought for was a hot bath and rest for the eve. As he neared the door, Erweth spoke gently, "Shall I have food brought to you?"
Legolas stopped at the threshold and looked over his shoulder at the maid in the corner. A gentle smile came to his lips. Erweth always had other's best interest in mind, "Much would be appreciated, Lady Erweth."
Erweth smiled, "Very well, expect Calaerien shortly."
Legolas stiffened before he nodded and turned away wearily.
The door before Calaerien felt more ominous than it actually was. She had never ventured in Legolas's chambers before, much less stood directly in front of the door. It had been a month since she last saw Legolas at the feast which only left her despondent. Calaerien sighed and shook her head of those thoughts. As she balanced the tray in the crook of her arm, Calaerien gently knocked on the door, heart pounding and waited patiently.
"Enter."
A distant voice came to her sensitive ears. With a deep sigh, Calaerien entered into the dark room. She was surprised how dark it was. The night sky filled the window view. A silver moonlight illuminated across the room. The fireplace was lit as orange flames danced, lit up the contours of the furniture. The prince was inconspicuously concealed in the chair that sat in front of the fire. She noted only his arm which laid lifeless on the armrest with a goblet of wine.
Legolas chambers was similar to Thranduil's. His sleeping chambers were off to the side with the doors closed shut. The room was a masculine theme as she suspected. He had his weapons displayed on the walls along with a single portraits of his mother. However Legolas was more enthusiastic about his weapon displays than the king.
Calaerien swallowed and quietly closed the door behind her as she approached the small table near the center of the chamber. Erweth made sure two sweet cakes were saved for the prince. Calaerien prepped his plate when her eyes caught a glint of light. Her eyes snapped to the blade on the table that moonlight reflected from the steel. The prince made no time to set away his was utterly fascinated, and she hesitantly glanced over her shoulder where the prince sat quietly. As she bit her lip, Calaerien delicately brushed her fingers over the blade. The coolness of the steel made her heart jump in excitement. Erweth forbidden her to wield a weapon. It was simply forbidden intrigue.
"Calaerien." A voice from the fireplace came in a whisper but there was a slight warning. The elleth froze in embarrassment and glanced over her shoulder. "Please refrain from touching my weapons."
The prince hadn't even look over his shoulder to know that she was in awe of his weapons. She blushed, embarrassed and redrew her delicate fingers. Not another word was spoken but his words hung in the dense of the air. Calaerien guessed it was true of what was said about the prince: Legolas had eyes in the back of his head. Skilled as an assassin. She bit her lip and returned to prepping his plate. With whatever dignity she had, Calaerien stroll to the fireplace as her heart thumbed. She rounded the chair in the Prince's line of vision. He leaned into his chair with one leg crossed over the other, a hand supported his chin. Brooding and thinking about the latest events. His eyes were darkened, distant and the wine in his hand untouched by his lips.
Calaerien knew the prince was often detained by his duties of defending the borders. His every thought and action was bent for the people. A noble ambition. Although the consequences were weariness and withdrawn from social life. Calaerien did not know him beyond her years and did not hear much of his youth. Perhaps at one time, Legolas was carefree, however in these dark times, that was now a luxury. Calaerien felt nothing but respected for him.
Silently, she offered him the plate which he hardly noticed. He made no move to collect his food from her. Instead, he stared off with glossy eyes. Calaerien inched closer, furrowing and whispered, "My Lord?"
Calaerien frowned when he did not respond. Then she realized that he had fallen in mediation. A waking sleep. How could she not noticed before? He was breathing calmly and his eyes dazed. It was strange to witness the Prince in this state. He's always alert and ready for any inconveniences. It was but a second ago when he requested that she not touch his weapons. Weariness caught up with him. It made her wonder how often did the prince rested between the patrols and duties in the castle. How many times had Legolas worked until all his energy was drained? Elves endurance surpassed any other race in Middle-earth, but there was a limit.
Calaerien's lips parted ever so slightly. The relaxed prince only made Calaerien's heart swell with affection for his wellbeing. A small smile grew on her lips to the thought of Legolas resting in peace. Though she had an overwhelming desire to trace the contours of his face, Calaerien sighed and leaned away. She would not hover him like a mother hen nor disturb his rest. Silently as she could, she placed the plate on the table end beside the chair. The plate clinked, equivalent to a pin landing on the floor when suddenly Calaerien felt herself being roughly pushed back. She had no time to gasp when she was forcefully turned and held against her will.
An arm wrapped tightly around her waist in a iron grip, slightly lifted her off her feet and almost prevented her from breathing. Calaerien breathed fearfully when the sharp tip of a dagger was pressed against her slender throat. Her back pressed against a hard chest, almost intimately that made Calaerien blush. Calaerien realized she woke up an elven warrior from his sleep. The sound must have jolted Legolas awake and he immediately sought to neutralize the threat. This was a fierce warrior and not the kind-hearted prince.
"Calaerien?" He breathed in her ear in surprise as he slowly released her.
Calaerien breathed heavily when she was released from his iron hold. She was thankful she was not an orc, or else he would have sliced her jugular. Her hand went to her throat as she coughed slightly. When she hesitantly looked at the prince, he was completely bewildered and shameful. He lowered his dagger, sighed long and hard as he brushed he hand over his long hair. "I beg your pardon."
He turned away and set his dagger on the table next to the plate and sat in his chair again. Calaerien eyed him carefully, still haven't move due to her quivering. That was one side she had never witness. It amazed her how quickly he jumped into action from just a small sound. It even terrified her that she did not notice his advancement until she was tangled in his arms. As terrifying as it was, it was also exciting.
"I thought you left your weapons on the table." Calaerien whispered, still rubbing her throat attentively. She hoped to lighten the dim situation.
Legolas glanced up, his eyes reflected the warm fire that only inspired his blue eyes to shimmer. Weariness lingered but did not dictate the prince. A small smirk developed on his lips as he murmured without humor, "Even in these halls, a warrior is never truly without his effects."
It was a warning, not quite a threat but simply notifying her that all was not as it seemed. Even in rest, warriors had a high keen sense of their surroundings, which she recently learned. She looked away uncertain and bit her lip. She dropped her gaze to the dagger on the table. Never before her fascination for weapons became a beacon of fear. Biting her lip nervously, Calaerien whispered dejectedly, "As I see."
"Why don't you take a seat." Legolas offered kindly, waved at the chair beside him as his eyes watched her tense form. "You are trembling like a leaf. I apologize for causing you distress."
Calaerien looked to Legolas's stormy eyes. Almost hated the effect he unknowingly had. She did not want to appear weak. With a sigh, she whispered. "I should leave you to your meal."
If her mother was aware that she prevent the prince from eating, she would scold her to the next age. Legolas simply smiled gently, small dimples protruded in his cheeks. "Calaerien. Sit." He ordered with no exceptions. "I do not think your mother would forgive me if I set you out of here pale as the moon."
Calaerien blushed as her hand fell from her neck. Sighing in defeat, Calaerien sat next to the prince to recover from the incident. This was different. After five hundred years of quick conversations, now they sat in silence. It was a bit uncomfortable, for Calaerien felt his fea. Bright and endearing. In a lot of ways, he intimated her but none other forced her heart to leap as he did.
Calaerien looked anywhere but the elf next to her. Now that she was resting and her heart beat was slowly settling, Calaerien took the time to examine his room further. In front of her was the bookcase cradling the fireplace. Most were historical books surrounding the First Age. She bit her lip as she grew more uncomfortable to the silence between them and Calaerien decided to break the stillness. Casually, she inquired. "How are you fairing on… the borders?"
Legolas shot her warning glance, "Thats is not up for discussion."
The firmness in his voice sent a shiver down her spine. She had not meant the events that were discussed in the King's office but rather his endurance on the patrol. Instead of explaining her intend, she clarified carefully and not making eye contact. "Pardon me. You seem strained and I only meant to offer to lift your burdens."
"They are indeed my burdens." Legolas murmured with a settle voice and calmer than before. As he leaned into the chair, sought for his wine and continued, "I will not trouble you, my lady. There are such things that are not spoken to one so young."
That pinched a nerve. Rarely did anyone ruffled her emotion. Calaerien never sought for conflict or argue to make her point. She was simply reserved and focused on what mattered. However, hearing those words coming out of his mouth made Calaerien tense. Her small hands tighten into small fists and her chest swelled with wounded pride. As she frowned, she could not help but muttered hoarsely with conviction, "Even us young ones have a sense of purpose. Tauriel is no more than three quarter of a century older than I. Do not dishonor me for my age."
Legolas looked at Calaerien with astonishment and completely surprised to hear such words from such a shy elf. He gazed at her as if he saw her for the first time. It was as if a wick had remained dormant for ages suddenly flared with passion. He had never thought her gentle voice could carry such weight.
Calaerien sighed, swiftly looked away and almost ashamed for her momentarily outburst. "Forgive me, my lord. I spoke out of tone."
"Indeed." He replied slowly, almost intrigued. He began to lean on the armrest and inching closer to Calaerien as his head tilted to the side. His eyes taunting and curious. "Tell me, wise one. To offer retribution first and then apologize for it, how does that not dishonor you? You loose your credibility."
Calaerien was baffled by Legolas's question. It was as if he was testing her, trying to determine her boundaries. How far would she go? Calaerien swallowed her hard and straightened in her chair. She tilted her head ever so slightly and replied firmly, "I do not apologize for my words, but how I handled them. Anger is never the answer."
"Ah." Was all Legolas responded. His eyes never wavered, nor did his curiosity. Legolas leaned back into his chair, never breaking eye-contact and inquired tactfully, "Your temper has now diminished. How would you rephrase your words, my lady?"
Calaerien wasn't sure if he was mocking her now or perhaps he was challenging her. But why? She wasn't a warrior or skilled with words. Nothing but a lowly maid who sought for an apprenticeship. She avoided conflicts and now, she wish she could leave this behind. Simply crawl beneath a rock and hide from those challenging eyes. It made her nervous. As her finger fidgeted in her lap, Calaerien swallowed hard and considered retracting her statement. But as he said before, she would loose her credibility. And to loose that with him would be worse. How her mother would scold her now if she listened to the words that came out of her mouth.
Sighing deeply, Calaerien paused her antsy fingers and curled them into a tight fist. She replied meaningfully, her voice steady as a calm river and her eyes sure as daylight. "I would say unto you: Age is irrelevant, a number that hold not true significance. It is our actions that dictate the extent of our wisdom. Without a will or a mind of our own, we will never grow. So I would ask you: Do not judge me by my age, but how I react to all things."
A long silence swelled in the mist of them, neither of them glanced away. For a moment, it was as if they came to understand one another. Perhaps Calaerien was no longer a child as Legolas had thought. A she-elf: a full grown woman lingered in the shadows for too long to be recognized as anything other than an elfling. An elf that was slowly coming into her own. After a long, enduring moment, Legolas smirked and nodded his head with respect. He answered appreciatively, "Well spoken, my lady Calaerien."
Calaerien blinked, baffled that Legolas backed down and no longer challenging her. Legolas smiled wider to her surprise expression and continued, "You should speak more often. You tend to hide from the world. You do not belong in the shadows."
Legolas began to rise from his chair, stared down at her appreciatively. He held out his hand to her, "I shall walk you to the door."
Calaerien's heart dropped, because she was being dismissed. A moment ago she wanted to flee and now she was conflicted with desire to remain and push more boundaries. No one had ever challenged her mentally, or physically for the matter. She quickly learned that she liked pushing boundaries. Calaerien bit her lip as she slowly placed her hand into his large one. As soon as her skin brushed against his, a strange electricity shivered up her arm. Legolas helped her to her feet and swiftly released her hand.
Her blue eyes never wavered from his but she still had to tilt her head up to keep eye-contact. Nothing surpassed his controlled facade as he began to lead her to the door. Calaerien gently curled the hand that tingled from the contact.
Legolas opened the door, widened for Calaerien as the light from the corridor illuminated a long line across the room. It lit the contours of their faces. Legolas smiled gently and murmured, "I thank you for my dinner."
Calaerien suppressed a smile, and replied casually, "Your welcome, my lord."
Calaerien swiftly nodded her head and whispered a good night as she quickly left his sight.
To be continued
Author's note: Hey everyone, sorry for the long wait. Life hasn't been too kind to me and it made writing rather difficult. So here I am again. I have not forgotten this story. I am unsure about this chapter. I kind of feeling a little unsatisfied with it but, I am sticking to it. I hope you like it. Please let me know if there are any typos that need fixing.
WickedGreene13: I am glad that you liked Calaerien's growing up part. It always annoyed me when writers jump in the timeline. You miss out on so much. So I'm glad that I was successful in aging her with a few entries. I am also happy you like my OC. There are a lot of typical OC that seem a little too perfect. I'm trying to create an OC with the opposite traits. I was worried if Calaerien would be bland but I am still developing her character. She is slowly 'pushing boundaries', so I am not done with her character yet! Calaerolas or Legorien? Oh thats a tough one. I like them both! But I think I would vote for Legorien! Team Legorien!
City-of-Dimes : It will come, I promise you!
jshaw0624 : Thank you, I am glad I captured your attention.
Lady Love: Yeah I know. Erweth had it rough. No she will not move on to another elf. I am staying true to Tolkien idea of romance and marriage. They bond once in their life.
JDMirkwood: Are you saying that I am perfect? Why thank you! Just Kidding. Thank you for your comment.
Happy: I am trying to be consist with the chapters. Life is a bit crazy.
Rae Ray: Thank you. I am glad you like Calaerien too.
Blondie: Thank you for your comment. Don't hold back nothing. Review as much as you want, lol. I'm glad you like the characters. Tauriel really is not a main character, but more of a supporting character, but I will show more of Tauriel's side as the story progresses.
Thank you everyone for your reviews!
Do not forget to review!