CHAPTER SIX: THE SHADOW OF THE PAST
His father had left the Kingdom without a word, bursting through the tall laced wood designed gates upon his sturdy elk, leaving his son in the trusted hands of the healers. When no sleep came upon Legolas that evening – for he was holding her in his dreams and couldn't stop seeing her eyes filled with tears. 'It felt so real…' He looked down at his slightly calloused hands. He had no idea where they were on the beach – for in all his travels he never came upon such a divine place, but when he tried to tell her where he was, a dark screech came into his mind and he woke suddenly – it was almost as if someone… or something did not want him to tell her. 'What was she so frightened of? How had they been together in a dream? She had forgotten… forgotten what? …Where was she?'
He aimlessly wondered the quiet halls, hoping the echoing of the crickets would bring him some peace. He thought he heard her soft laugh and turned a corner only to see her hazy figure glance back at him in the dark. Her spirit turned corner after corner, beckoning him to follow. He ran after her till she disappeared into thin air once more, and he realized she had led him into the royal room - his mother's throne glowing in the moonlight that was pouring down upon it, the stars causing dancing shimmers to float around the room. He gave a heavy sigh and paced the room as he let his mother's spirit lead him into a faint memory – one that he had almost forgotten.
He leaned over the balustrade that edged the portico above the arched gate, impatiently seeking for some sign of the Vinyamar Elves who were to arrive today. Within his shifting hands, he held a new quiver gifted to him by his Father, and laden with arrows, two shining knives, and a hand crafted bow – the finest in all of Middle Earth. Elves from all over the region were arriving today. He had never heard of the Vinyamar Elves from the far West – said to be the "blessed ones".
"Patience, young one." A voice, soft and deep echoed behind him, and he turned smiling to see the warm eyes of his mother, Irime, as they strode near, their bright silver hair flowing lightly behind them in the soft breeze, their almond shaped watercolor eyes scanning their surroundings – taking in the mystic Greenwood.
"Who are they mother?" He asked breathless – the perplexing elves were unlike any he had ever seen in his childhood years, after all he was only 100 and was just beginning to travel along with his father to far away regions. Irime elegantly crouched down to his level, her tight green-gold silk dress with train-length lace sleeves, pooling around her.
"That is King Vardamir, son of Lord Elrond's twin brother Elro, from the high Havens of Tirion." She pointed at the Jewel of Varda King who rode at the front on a soft grey stallion.
"A Mearas…" Legolas whispered in awe to himself. The king's silver and golden robes flowing as the horse trotted over the cobbled entrance. The tall diamond crystals set in an intricate silver woven design upon his bright white hair. He was glancing back happily at a woman behind him.
"That is -" His mother pointed with her long, spear-shaped fingernails to the beaming woman with her hand over her stomach, "Queen Aerathine, daughter of Vana and Orome." Her champagne hair braided with delicate flowers was ordained with a golden graceful halo crown set with sapphires. Legolas knew by the names his mother spoke, and the Queen's gleaming pendant that she wore around her neck, meant she was of divine blood.
Suddenly a darker haired elf playing the flute came strolling through the front gate, bouncing haphazardly on his midnight horse whose head kept nodding along to the melody. His mother gave a light giggle of joy upon seeing the tiny elf. She inclined her head ever so slightly when the young elf looked up at them with a beaming smile.
"And that is their son Ecthelion – who must be around your age by now." She stated. The black-haired elf, who resembled his grandfather's; Elros and Elrond more than his parents, was clad in silver that held a tinge of blue, upon his shining crown was a long spike of silver pointed with a diamond. His small golden shield that lay on his back shimmered as if it were bedewed with drops of rain, which was indeed a thousand studs of crystals. They watched his father and Vardamir hug warmly, before joining the rest of the guests in the ballroom.
Later that evening he had become very close friends with the young Rivendell twins Elladan and Elrohir, and Ecthelion who was a clear head higher than them. He did not care much for the redheaded Noldorin elves and their snotty son, "Cuckoo" as he liked to call him. He thought their ruby crowns made them look like a volcano: scorching and fiery that they appeared to be burning to the touch. It took him a while to find his mother in the gigantic crowd of elves; his eyes caught sight of the light beaming off her dainty rose gold tiara that displayed bright spinel flowers and peridot dewdrops that hung down. Unlike his father who always wore such high fashion to showcase his royalty, his mother liked to play it down – its what his father loved most about her.
His mother had given a bubbly laugh when Legolas had told her eagerly what his nickname was for the strange looking elf. Her laugh was like ripples in a still pond after a stone had been thrown in it. It radiated outwards through the packed hall of guests, making his father who had up until that moment been quite silent with disapproval. Now he too began to titter and soon the ripples of laughter became great waves of hilarity between the three. It wasn't until Irime was tucking Legolas into bed that night, when he had begged her to tell him more about the white elves, for he felt a strange pull towards them.
"Where do they hail from?" He asked quietly, as Irime sat down next to his figure cocooned in the plush bedding.
"From all over, dear. King Vardamir rules over Tirion and Vinyamar in the Havens of the Falas, both which he inherited from his parents. While the Queen rules over all of Valmar for she is a direct descendent of the Valars." He blinked a few times.
"She is a Vala?" He was in awe, he never thought he'd ever see one.
"Yes, they both are. Although unlike the Queen's pure blood, the King's blood is only half Vala from his mother Nienna, and half elf like his father Ingwe. That is why he rules over two regions. They were here to celebrate the Queen's pregnancy with a baby girl." She whispered to him, she shifted her weight onto the arm that was placed protectively over him.
"So, then Ecthelion is a Vala?" He questioned quickly. She was going to have to tell him the whole story, if she wanted him to go to sleep. She softly shook her honey blonde head with a light smile.
"For now." The perplexed expression on his soft face, told her she needed to continue. "You know Elrond and his child are half elven and half mortal, and therefore they can choose. Ecthelion and his soon-to-be sister will get to choose between Vala and the elven race." She held up the golden book, pointing to the picture of the Queen and King's family lineage.
The memory quickly faded from his mind and his face beamed with a new sense of realization.
"Oh thank you, mother." He whispered to the deserted throne room and he made a dash for his father's library. He had spent days in the library, endlessly searching for that golden book. The servants were becoming quickly concerned for the Prince's wellbeing, as he refused to eat or sleep till he found it. He had torn apart the several storied room; the once organized books were haphazardly placed and the wooden ladders hung off their hinges – till he finally found it, shoved in the very back of the last row of books. He let go of the breath he hadn't know he'd been holding throughout his search and brushed the cobwebs off the golden binding. His eyes scanning the bronze calligraphy on the thick ivory paper, till he found his mother's writing on the last page. 'She updated it… She knew… Oh thank you mother! Thank you!'
He read the whole ancestry that his mother had written down during her last days, his eyes stopped when her name appeared. When his ears picked up his father's return he kept a clenching hold of the book and dashed to his father.
