Chapter Twenty-Two: Knowledge of Things Unsaid

I stared at the profile of Ehlon's angry face, too confused and shocked to speak.

He did not turn, but I heard him exhale slowly. Ehlon's fists clenched. Finally, his voice rang through the air:

"Yes, Ehlon, I was right to think you would be the first to understand, but you still do not comprehend fully, and for my part that is through no fault of anyone but mine. At last this day has come, and you will hear of everything, but you must not interrupt or argue with me, dear Ehlon, for it is a tale which must be truly listened to. Come…"

His face was serene, but there was a tired, knowing expression in his eyes as he looked upon us warily, as though he had been expecting this moment to come for a long, long time. It was a look of revealing, of telling a tale long supressed, a tale of which I would never be able to forget for both its brilliance and darkness…This I knew innately, and yet nothing could ever prepare me for what followed.

Gandalf sighed and shifted slightly on his feet. "Amira, I have protected you from this knowledge for as long as possible, for anyone possessing any form of wisdom knows that knowledge can be dangerous and corrupting, as is the kind I am about to tell you. Your family history is of what I speak, and though I know you are above the ties that bind you to history and fate, you should know that I do not speak of this willingly, but now there is no escaping me telling of it." Here he shot a venomous glance at Ehlon, who looked away abruptly.

"Please," he said, gesturing to the bench, "sit down."

I looked at Ehlon, who glanced around guiltily, seemingly quite uncomfortable. "Perhaps I should leave you two and-"

"No no no," Gandalf interrupted with a humourless chuckle, "you began this journey down to dark talk, Ehlon, I think you should stay and understand what is about to be revealed."

Woodenly, I sat down, and while doing so I realized just how much my body was trembling. My mind was like a stone well, disturbingly silent and empty of all thought and emotion. Time was merely a forgotten concept as my world ground against reality as glaciers grind against the earth.

"It is not untrue that your story is one of sorrow, but it goes beyond what you have been told. I wished you to know your true lineage, Amira, and I spent many a year in anguish over how I could tell a small child such a large lie." Gandalf paused, "But in the end, it was your mother's words that convinced me. It was her wish that you knew nothing of your past, of her past. It was her final order before she died."

My eyes must have bespoken the shrill thought that raced through my mind.

"Yes Amira, I know of your mother's final wishes before her death, but I did not know her," his eyes deepened, "She left one last message before she died, and it came wrapped around the sword which you now bear…"

Gandalf sighed, "It said, scrawled there upon the worn cloth, 'I know you will find her, Mithrandir, and she will be safe in your hands. She shall know nothing of me nor the evil that runs in her veins. Love her well and teach her the ways of the elves, for nothing fair and good can come of that which resides within the heartless and black ways of Men.'"

When his recitation ebbed into silence, my chest felt as though it would collapse in on itself. Ehlon was gripping the railing so tight that her knuckles showed white.

"Amira, you come from two ancient and powerful lines of Men, though not as ancient and powerful as the blood of Aragorn's Numenorian lineage. They are known to most as-"

"-the Bright House of Este and the Dark House of Melkor," Ehlon spat darkly and bitterly.

Gandalf turned to her, his face a mask of anger, and she shrank slightly under his glare. "You are here to listen, not tell! Now listen carefully and be silent!"

Hot, blinding rage surged through me at that moment, and I shot up from my seat on the bench. "You will not speak to her that way!" I hissed at him darkly. Ehlon clutched my forearm in warning, but I threw her off. "No, Ehlon! You will not stop me from saying this…" I turned to Gandalf again: "You do not deserve to have authority over what is said and what is not, after what you have been keeping from me! And I do not even know the full of it! I trusted you with my life, Gandalf the Grey, and you have clearly betrayed me more than anyone has and ever will betray me."

Gandalf rose to his full height, frightening and dark against the sky. "I had no choice!" he boomed, "I was not content to feed you a lie, but I was following the orders of your mother, who knew well what might happen if you were told the truth about your lineage too soon." He held up his hand, calm descending over us again. His face softened. "I battled endlessly over your fate, Amira, but the Istari can only meddle in the affairs of Men so much…I was given orders, from your mother no less, and I have carried them through the years until this moment."

"And what is it that my mother knew that caused you to lie to me for the last 22 years? This, this," I struggled for words, "dark house that was spoken of…what in the name of Elbereth has this to do with me?"

Gandalf sighed. "It has everything to do with you, Amira…everything."

His bushy brows pulled together slightly as he gestured with one hand: "Please, sit down. There is much to tell and little time to tell it in."

I obeyed, feeling drained from my recent outburst. From the corner of my eye, I could see Ehlon looking on it what seemed like quiet bewilderment.

He let out a wearied exhale. "As I have said, you, young one, are the result of a secret joining of the two Houses, the Bright House of Este and the Dark House of Melkor. Long have they been bitter rivals, but never did they battle each other outright, for they were both equally powerful in their own way. You see, both Houses are magical as you are, though I cannot stress how different their uses of their magical gifts are." He paused a moment, seemingly attempting to string together the proper words.

"The darkness you have felt inside of yourself, Amira, is the dark blood of the House of Melkor stirring within you, kept in check only by the healer in you, the healer that is represented by the bright blood of the House of Este. As Este is of rest and peace, you are yourself an incarnation of half of this power, the other half being Melkor's dark destructive power. Though mixing the blood of these two Houses has happened in the past, your birth was one of a violent nature. Your mother and father had often met in the bitter meetings between the Houses, meetings of which were scheduled to maintain peace and exchange magical knowledge. It is unknown how long they courted each other in secret, but I know that one day your mother's father discovered what had transpired between the two of them. As such relationships are forbidden between the two Houses, your grandfather barred your mother from further meetings, keeping her under lock and key in the high tower of the city. Burning with anger and hatred for your grandfather, your father, in a fit of complete lunacy, broke into her private room and…he did the ugliest thing a man can ever do to a woman."

"He violated her," I said in a dead voice. It felt as though I had turned to stone.

Gandalf nodded, and for a moment his eyes shone and then the effect disappeared. "A month passed and your mother found herself to be pregnant. Upon discovering this, your grandfather did not let your mother speak her side of the story. Without a goodbye, he shamed and banned your mother from the city, driving her into the wilderness. Your father, distraught, sought after your mother, losing himself in the wilderness in the process. It is not known what came of him, for no one speaks his name as it is considered treason in the House of Melkor. As for your grandfather, he died not long after your mother was exiled, they say from a broken heart."

"And my mother?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

"I searched for her, but I never found her body. All I know is what I have told you, and what was given to you at birth." He let out a long breath, "That is all I know, Amira. You must understand that your lineage, though powerful, does not dictate your destiny in any way, as your mother feared. This is why she wished me not to tell you of your ancestry before you were ready to know of it, and while I see the wisdom in this wish, I believe every individual has a choice, Amira. You have a choice now, as you always have. What you do with this knowledge is up to you, and your fate is also yours to bear."

He seemed to be expecting to me to speak or respond in some way, and when I didn't, he stood and laid his hand on my shoulder. "I know you wish to be alone and think, and maybe be angry too, even at me. But know this, Amira," he drew his bushy eyebrows together, "I have always trusted in your ability to adapt, and even though you knew not of your lineage, you have grown into a woman that both of your family Houses would be proud to call their own."

Then, in a slightly quieter voice, he said: "Trandaron and Amaravir were their names, if wished to know…"

And then he was gone, leaving a void behind him.

Silence reigned.

Ehlon shifted on her feet. I had forgotten she was there. Looking up, I saw that she was staring down at the ground, her face a mask bereft of emotion. We did not make a sound, but I knew we were both unable to process the words that still hung in the air like smoke. I let the words hang there, suspended by a hope that they were untrue, that all of this was a dream. I couldn't move; it was like all will to animate my body had left me a long time ago. Likewise, Ehlon did not move a muscle. At the corner of my eye, I could see she was clenching the hilt of her sword so tightly that the tendons in her hand stood out white like smooth river stones.

Finally, I couldn't take the debilitating silence any longer. I stood up gracelessly, striding quickly down the hall away from the words I couldn't face. I needed to get away. Not caring where I was going, I kept walking, knowing all the while that I was being followed. Angrily, I whirled around, expecting to find her right behind me. Instead, I saw her down the hall, standing motionless in the semi-darkness that the setting sun had left behind.

We stared at each other for what seemed like centuries, until at last she raised two fingers to touch her forehead, pulling them down over her heart. My eyes widened. With a small, slow nod, she was gone.

Ehlon had given me a sign of deep respect.

The forehead to heart symbolism was one that a person might address to a royal, a hero, or the Istari. The significance of it and from whom I had received it stunned me. Standing there in that empty hallway in Rohan, weighed down with unbidden knowledge and deeply seated emotions rushing through my veins, I felt the first wave of tears come to my eyes. It was all necessary, all of this I knew, but it still hurt unlike anything I had ever suffered. Truth was a bitter, ugly beast that reared its head at the most inopportune times, and at the same time it was also a beautiful, patient light in the midst of any dark storm cloud, waiting only for the right moment to reveal itself for those ready to see it. As I slid down the wall to the ground, I knew I would never be consciously ready to face my past, but Fate had other plans for me, it seemed. Such knowledge had been thrust at me, and it was up to me know to decide what to do with it – as Gandalf had said, it was my choice.

As tears streaked down my face and fell to the stones near my feet, I allowed myself to weep for my mother, my father, my grandfather, the stupidity of pride and power, and for myself. Serious choices awaited me, I knew, but for that time I also knew I had to let my emotions run their course. As much as a part of me wanted to give up and surrender to my weariness, I had not walked these roads, bled from these wounds, fought these battles, and been returned from death only to succumb to helplessness and anger.

Understanding and peace would come of this, I knew deep in my heart, but for the time being, all I felt was pain. Deep, lasting pain…


This was a very difficult chapter to write, which is why it was such a long time coming. Things will be moving along faster now. Don't expect too much moping on Amira's part, though, for those worried about overly dramatic character development. :P

There are some interesting things in store, things I don't even know yet, as this story seems to be writing itself. Thanks for staying interested in this story - I love all the reviews I receive. Please let me know what you think, as this chapter is a huge gamble.

Peace and love.