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Chapter 9

For days we followed the River Snowbourne north, but it was not the same as it had been the last time we had traveled along the river. Our old horses were gone, replaced with the beasts of our enemies, and we were not as well rested or good humored as before. We no longer took pleasure in gazing across the shimmering waters, or waving to the fishermen and river people. Now we were solemn, and quiet. We rode on our enemies' horses all day, quickly; our only rests were to find something to eat and we slept on the horses, who also had been trained to sleep lightly and standing, for a few hours at night. But I felt, as I am sure Aeiliel did as well, that there was no longer that fire or desire to live anymore. Trying to survive was a lonesome routine, and I was weary of it.

Time passed, the river we followed forked, and then we were following a new river. This one continuing to take us ever northward, into the north of Rohan, where hopefully Aeiliel's family, and safety, awaited us.

A month after our time in Edoras, we had decided to take a longer rest one night. It was a beautiful evening, all the stars visible in the clear night sky, and Aeiliel and I built a campfire a decided to give ourselves and the horses a whole night of rest.

As we laid out there on our capes, staring up at the sky, I started crying.

Aeiliel heard, looked over at me, and came over and put her arm around me. It was the first time I had cried since before my parents had been killed.

We lay silently for a moment, except for the sounds of my sobs.

I wasn't just crying for my parents, or my lost home, or because I was miserable and tired, or even because I had killed a man, but because a horrible, undeniable truth had steadily become clear to me, and I could ignore it no longer. If I went with Aeiliel to Rohan, where her family was, then the men would follow us, and put all of her family in danger, and that I could not allow.

"You know I can't go." I whispered, after an hour of silence.

"I know we can't." She whispered back.

Her words made me start crying again. She had answered my silent question, if she was coming with me, and said yes. As much as I wished I could, I knew there would be no way to dissuade her. She would come with me, and she would probably die for it. I squeezed her hand, happy for her company, in spite of all things.

.

So we continued to follow the river up, up and away from all the country we had ever known. I could not even be sure where we were going now. I had a picture in my head, from a map I had seen in one of the rooms of the castle, that detailed most of the known lands, but child that I was I had only been interested in the areas I knew or had heard of, like Rohan or the Black Land. I knew there were other lands; tall mountains and deep mines, enchanted forests where elves dwelt and places so old and strange that held creatures the people of Gondor had no name for them. But all the places outside of the South were foggy in my mind, and I felt like I was traveling blind.

When we came to a large, and dark wood, Aeiliel said this was time that we should change our course.

"Why?" I asked, gazing out at the trees that stood so tall against the late summer sunset.

"I believe we have come to Fangorn forest, and the forest is filled with much magic and evil, as the tales say. It would be best now for us to go another way."

I admitted that standing on the borders of the forest did give me a strange sense of foreboding, and so I listened to Aeiliel when she told me that if we traveled East, we would come back to the Great River eventually, the same one that stretched eventually into Pelargir, and we could follow it North into the unknown lands that it may take us.

We used the Sun and the stars to show us the way east, now that we no longer had landmarks to follow.

We had spent a week traveling east when we saw people for the first time. We had stumbled across a small settlement of farms.

We arrived on the small village at nightfall, and the fields all around the town were all in flames, lighting up the sky and grounds in a blaze. Some people that saw us riding in called for us to help. We immediately jumped off our horses and went to help fill up pails of water from the stream and carry them back to the blaze. Everyone in the town must have been there, down to the smallest child that could carry a pail of water. There was no way for the fire to be extinguished by just the water from the creek beds, but we, along with the rest of the town, worked the entire night, using the water to keep pushing the water east, where it came to a huge river that ended the fire.

When the fire was finally out, and everyone stood around assessing the damages, Aeiliel and I exchanged a meaningful glance. We both knew that we had arrived at the Great River, and now we would travel north, into the wide world.

Before we continued our travels, the people of the village insisted we stay for few days to rest and let our burns get treated. We were fed very well, and the beds were so large and soft, compared to the rocky ground we had slept on for months, that I had no idea where I was when I awoke in one of the villager's homes. Even more confusing, I wondered why there was a bandaged fox sleeping on my pillow, until I recalled the night before, when I had found a fox that had been injured from the fires-one eye completely burned out- and insisted against everyone's refusal to take it back with me.

.

I still went out occasionally, to walk outside, and fish, or just visit with all of the elves that I had met, but most of my time now I spent in the music room. Just as the King had said, it didn't look like it had been used at all. But after I cleaned the dust off of everything, and got rid of all the cobwebs, I could see that it was really a very grand room. The furniture and instruments were all made of the finest wood and gold, but one wouldn't really expect anything different from elves. They always had the finest clothes, tools, and men.

One of the things they had enjoyed explaining to me was the difference between the elves. My entire life living in Gondor I had always assumed that elves were all the same; but they readily explained to me that there were quite a few differences between the elves. The Silvan elves, Galessel explained to me, were the very best kind of elves (although I imagine her opinion might be biased, she being a Silvan herself). They were the ones that dwelt in Mirkwood. She explained to me in great detail how they were different from the Sindar-which was the kind that the King and his family belonged to-but through all the complicated discussion about lineages and migration, the only thing I really remembered from it all was that Silvan elves had pointier ears, and their hair was usually a brownish-color, and the Sindar's hair was the shiny golden-white that the king's was. She tried to explain about even more types of elves, but I suggested that was enough for one day. Rather than be offended, she expressed delight that I had been interested in their history.

Living with the elves for so long had made me curious now about them. As I polished the harp now I wandered about the elf named Elrond, who the king said had given him this room as a wedding present, and who they said was a great elf in Rivendell, much like the king was a very great elf in Mirkwood.

I was just thinking how I would ask the King about Elrond and Rivendell when I saw him again, when the door opened. I thought it was the King at first from his height and hair, but when he stepped into the room I saw to my dismay that it was Coruven who had come.

I began to get up to curtsey, but he gestured me to sit down.

Instead he came and sat down on one of the other chairs across from me.

We awkwardly exchanged a few half-hearted pleasantries. Before long neither of us had anything to say, so I sat awkwardly, not playing, because I thought that might be rude, but not sure either what I should be doing.

Coruven himself was turning his head to look all around the room. After he had done this for a few moments, he stopped, and smiled grimly at me.

"I see you have made yourself quite at home here." He said.

"I have tried to tidy it up, yes." I answered. "His highness the king, your father, told me to make use of it."

He gave a short, bitter laugh. "Yes I can understand that. My mother certainly never used it, so of course he would give it to you instead."

I stared down at a small wind instrument, frowning. His mother? "The King told me that it was a wedding gift from Lord Elrond…"

"Yes, it was a wedding gift to her. He hoped that she would take an interest, and play for my father. But she had no desire to play or listen. She was a warrior, and had no time for such silliness. And so this room was never used and was soon covered in dust…"

I found I had nothing to say.

But it didn't matter, because he took a deep breath, and his eyes bore into mine. "You must be wondering why I am here."

"Yes."

"I wanted to tell you, that I am dreadfully sorry for you about this business with your cousin Baldrick. What he did to your parents is just terrible. I know what it's like to lose a parent." He paused, took another breath. " I know my father himself thinks that you will be safest here, in Mirkwood. But I myself think that it is dangerous for the rest of us if you continue to stay here. What I wanted to tell you is, if you think it best that you surrender yourself to your cousin, or if you want to go somewhere else, not to your cousin but to a different land, I would offer my help in any way that I can."

"Oh. Well…I … er… thank you?" A strong desire for Aeiliel to be here shook through me. She was always so astute about reading people. She could tell in an instant if a person was lying, telling the truth, or if they were keeping something or had something else on their mind. I could have used her perception now.

"Consider it for a while. You can let me know at dinner tonight your decision, and if your decision is yes, I can have you out of this realm by tomorrow morning."

"Well, I can't very well tell you at dinner."

"Just give me a sign. Understand?"

"Alright," I whispered, and watched him fold up his robe and leave the room.

I dressed quickly for dinner that night, and sought out Haltholben, the elf who had taught me how to shoot, and walked with him to dinner.

He asked me how I was enjoying the music room; he knew the king had given to me.

"Very much. I can imagine few things that would have pleased me more than his gift. But I wished to speak with you a moment about other matters before we arrive at the dining hall."

He looked down at me concerned. "Go on."

"Before I say what I must say, I wish you to know that I am only burdening you with my thoughts because of all the elves I have met here I believe you to be one of the most straightforward, and honest of them all, and that is indeed saying something. I hope I can count on your discretion."

"Of course, my lady."

I took a deep breath. "This business about my cousin troubles me. The longer I stay here, the longer I put everyone around me in danger. But the King assures me he is well able to protect me, and that the people of this realm would rather me stay here than give myself up to the danger my cousin presents. And I have recently discovered an easy way to leave, and remove the threat of danger from this realm. I am not sure how to proceed."

"Hmm." He cleared his throat before continuing. "Well, to speak for myself, I cannot even imagine my own despair if you were to leave and endanger yourself so. I agree with the king, and indeed with the rest of my kin, that we would rather have you here, danger or no. Of course I will not say anything to the king, and I understand why you are conflicted. I cannot answer for you. But I would advise you to follow your heart. In some cases, it may not be always best to listen to your mind, which will only tell you what should be right in some cases. I think you've earned the opportunity to follow your own desires for once."

His words surprised me, because to me he was always the most rational of all elves, but I knew he was right. I could rely on my feelings to take me on the right path.

…..

For most of the feast the king was busy speaking to his counselors and kin. It was fortunate that he did, because I was much too distracted that evening to keep up a conversation with him. I needed to make my decision by the end of dinner and give Coruven a sign. But towards the end of the meal the king turned to me and asked me calmly how I was enjoying the instruments. I answered him, very un-calmly, how it was my greatest pleasure, and far too kind of him, and many other thanks that I stuttered over in my embarrassment.

He raised his eyebrows. "Please stop that babbling. It was really nothing."

I smiled thinly at his words and gave him a teasing look, "Do you mean it is nothing because the whole thing is a plan to keep me occupied during the day and out of trouble?"

There was no humor in his face when he listened to my words. He set his wine cup down, and stared at me seriously, looking me in the eyes. "No." he said. "I thought of nothing but your happiness."

He turned away to speak to someone else, so he did not notice my stare lingering on him, emotion in my eyes and love in my heart.

I took a servant who was walking by their sleeve and asked him if he would do a favor for me.

Ten minutes later the same servant walked back into the hall with my harp as I had requested. The hall quieted down and many people watched curiously, wandering what was going on, including the king, who turned to look at me for the second time that evening.

"I was wondering if I could play you a tune that I wrote for you." I told him.

One of his dazzling rare smiles gave me his consent, and the hall was silent as I walked over and sat at the harp.

The truth is I had not written anything for him yet, but as we held each other's eyes, I wrote him a tune that I made up as I played, using his spirit as my paper and my heart as my quill.

There was a gracious applause when I was done; everyone enjoyed it, especially, I think, the person it was written for.

When I was finished I looked around for Coruven, and I could not find him. But I knew he must have understood. There could be no clearer sign, no more specific answer than if I had just said that I could never leave, then the look in my eyes as I stared at his father with every good thing I could ever feel.