Chapter 9
She heard the voices first.
They began as soft murmurs, as if a conversation was being muffled behind a shut door. She strained her ears, listening for any semblance of familiarity in the voices, but found none. It was dark and she could not she tell where she stood. There was nothing but blackness all around her and she could not feel the ground that she stood upon; in fact, she felt as if she was floating, her arms and legs light and feathery, as she hovered through the air. Her entire body felt weightless and detached, but it was her blindness to her surroundings that worried her the most.
The longer she dwelled in the inky blackness, the more uneasy she became at her situation. The voices were gradually growing stronger and louder, but she still could not see to whom they belonged. She tried to call out to these voices, to beg them for help, but found no sound from within her throat. She knew her lips moved, she could feel their movements yet her voice was not found.
Taking a deep breath, Ziendriel moved to scream as loud as her situation allowed, but was alarmed when again no sound passed her lips. Frantically, she looked around her, moving her head in all directions, but finding nothing but expanse darkness.
A feeling of hopelessness washed over her and she felt a sudden weight rest down upon her shoulders, pressing on her. Her body began to slowly sink downwards, pulling her deeper into the darkness, as if she was a rock sinking into the depths of the sea…..
Legolas stared down at his wife's once again unconscious form peacefully laying in their bedchambers, his frown creasing his forehead. If the situation wasn't one of such importance, he would surely be laughing at the many times Ziendriel had fainted in the past few days, for those episodes were coming almost daily now.
He looked at her now, her skin slowly regaining its lively hue of warmth, her eyes half open and staring right through him in her oblivion. His hand reached out to lightly brush her temple, his fingertips reveling in the warmth of her skin. He watched her chest softly rise and fall with each breath she took, as his arms ached to take her into his arms and hold her until they both woke from the nightmare threatening their peaceful lives.
"I should have prepared for this day," Legolas now murmured, his eyes never leaving Ziendriel. "Father and Lord Elrond warned me this day would come, but I did not heed them." He gently outlined his wife's jaw with a light finger, pausing his fingertip over her lips. "I am so sorry, meleth," he whispered. He replaced the soft touch of his finger with that of his lips, hoping the action of that simple kiss would awaken her from her state of slumber.
When she did not, Legolas leaned back into his chair and uncomfortably settled himself against its high back. He felt an enormous amount of guilt for the events that had recently unfolded, but more so for the heavy burden Ziendriel now faced because of the revealed truth of her parentage. He had been among the small group of people who had been aware of her true identity, but had been sworn to secrecy with the hope that the truth would never need to be revealed.
Whether it had been pride or pure foolish hope that a day such as this would never come, Legolas did not know why he had not been allowed to speak with Ziendriel about it. Perhaps if he had been allowed to tell her the moment he had been privy to the information, then his wife would not be laying unconscious from the shock of the truth. His thoughts drifted back to the day his father had summoned him to his private study. It had been three days before Legolas was to wed Ziendriel, which made the urgency of his father's request all the more curious….
FLASHBACK
"You wish to speak with me, Father?" Legolas asked, once he was admitted into his father's study. His steps faltered as he realized the presence of Lord Elrond of Rivendell beside Thranduil's chair. He quickly bowed in respect, then greeted, "Lord Elrond, welcome."
Elrond merely nodded, then turned his dark eyes back to Thranduil. The king looked at Legolas for a moment, then gestured for his son to sit. "Please, my son," he invited. "Sit and be comfortable, for there is much we have to discuss."
Legolas started at the tone of his father's voice, as well as to the grave expression on Elrond's face. "Has something happened, Father?" he asked, concerned.
"No, no," Thranduil answered, quickly. His eyes went to Elrond who nodded encouragingly. "Our discussion has no need of that kind of concern." His eyes once again traveled to the lord standing calmly beside him.
Elrond recognized the hesitation in his friend's eyes. "We must speak to you concerning Ziendriel," he told the prince, then watched as the eyes of the younger elf narrowed.
At the mention of his betrothed, Legolas felt his body stiffen. "Yes?" he prompted, though his voice now held an edge. Though the events concerning Ziendriel's abduction were now nearly nine months in the past, it still pushed to the front of his mind whenever her name was mentioned. And being summoned for a private counsel with his father and the man who had a hand in the raising of his bride-to-be did not calm his nerves.
"There is something you must know of her," Elrond continued, purposely ignoring the warning in the prince's eyes. "This information I must impart will no doubt have an impact on your decision to marry Ziendriel."
Legolas clenched his jaw and stared hard at Elrond. "Whatever you feel you must tell me will not change my mind, Lord Elrond," he very nearly spat, misunderstanding the intentions and actions of the Elder. "I will marry Ziendriel in three days' time and nothing will change that!" He turned blazing eyes to his father. "Why now, Father?" he demanded, desperately holding onto his anger. "You had me believe Ziendriel to be acceptable in your eyes!"
Thranduil started at his son's words, disbelieving his ears. He stared at him, their identical blue eyes locked together. The words finally sunk into his mind and Thranduil said, "You misunderstand Lord Elrond, as well as I, Legolas! We both love Ziendriel, there is no doubt of it, do not fear! In truth, we may feel she is well beyond the likes of you, son!" He chuckled then, attempting to lighten the mood.
For a moment, Legolas sat there, confused beyond words. He looked first to his father, then to Elrond, then back to Thranduil. "Then, what-?" he asked, his forehead creased.
Elrond smiled at the prince's confusion and walked over to him. He placed a soothing hand on the younger elf's shoulder. "Do you love Ziendriel?" he asked, though he knew the answer. It was written on his face, as well as his actions; there was no doubt that the prince indeed loved his lady.
"Yes," Legolas answered, bewildered. "She is precious to me." He blinked when they both laughed at his words.
"More than you know, Legolas!" Elrond told him, chuckling. He took a seat next to him and proceeded to tell him the tale of Ziendriel….
END FLASHBACK
Legolas sighed as the memory faded to the back of his mind and he was once again brought back to his wife's still form. His eyes searched for any signs of regained consciousness, but flashed with disappointment when none was found. He lingered for a moment on her face and found a smile flutter across his lips. Despite the admission his father and Elrond had told him that day so many years ago, Legolas had been firm in his decision to marry Ziendriel. It did not matter whether or not she had been borne from the love of her parents or from the magical inclinations of a sorceress; he had discovered her to be the missing part of his heart and he would not give her up easily.
Images of their wedding day flashed before him, causing his smile to soften. He remembered greeting those guests of honor at the steps of his father's house, warmly embracing each remaining member of the Fellowship as he welcomed them: Aragorn, now King Elessar, great ruler of the free lands; Arwen, whose sacrifice of immortality suited her, despite the tiny signs of aging; Gimli, whose graying beard did not dull his wit and sharp tongue; Gandalf the White, armed with a sack full of fireworks to celebrate; and the remaining Hobbits, Sam, Merry and Pippin, all of whom were now happily married and fathers of their own mischievous Hobbits.
It had been a bittersweet day, for the company of Frodo had been missed. The Ringbearer had left with Bilbo to travel the sea to the Undying Lands prior to the wedding. It had saddened Legolas for a moment, until Gimli had teasingly reminded him that sadness on a day such as that would only bear ill will.
Legolas softly chuckled at the thought of his Dwarf friend and briefly wondered what Gimli now occupied his time with. At the moment, he sorely missed his blustering companion and would gladly give anything to hear his wisdom now.
Lilia fervently paced the hallway outside her daughter's bedchambers, her hands unable to remain still for a second. Velia had assured her that Ziendriel was fine and would awaken on her own time, but that time was taking far too long for her liking. She had been alarmed, to the say the least, when Ziendriel had suddenly fainted after she had been told the truth. She had imagined many reactions for her daughter to have after hearing of her beginnings, but in all honesty, she had never imagined Ziendriel would faint! Somehow, after everything she had been through in the past several years, she had thought her daughter beyond fainting.
"Why did I not tell her?" Lilia now muttered as her pacing increased, "She had a right to know, but I did not acknowledge it. Was I afraid? But of what?" She did not know, truthfully but it did not comfort her in the least.
Ziendriel was more to her than a daughter, she was a treasured gift to be cherished and loved with one's very soul. Never in her life before Ziendriel was born had Lilia thought she would be blessed with the preciousness of a child for the Healers had declared her barren. The reason for this was unknown and remained so even now, but Lilia no longer cared. She would forever be indebted to the sorceress who sacrificed herself to give Ziendriel to her. She would never be able to fathom the power of Aìnu, to understand how she could possibly form a babe from her essence. The process was lost on her, a simple she-Elf of the royal court, but it did not deter her gratitude.
Ziendriel is my gift, my treasure! She now thought as she paused her pacing to once more stare at the door that led to the bedchambers, I was not only blessed with one precious life, but two. Never could I have imagined that a mother would I be to two beautiful daughters; not after that dismal verdict by the Healers! Ziendriel made it possible for me to conceive Ariel, of that I have no doubt!
FLASHBACK
"How is this possible?" Lilia asked, staring at Lord Elrond as she sat upon her bed within the guest rooms at Rivendell, "It cannot be, can it?" She continued to stare at him, her eyes bewildered.
"I assure you, it is," Elrond told her, smiling amusedly. "You are once again with child. Congratulations." He allowed to the words to sink into the young Elf-maiden's mind, watching for her reaction with interest.
He wasn't disappointed. Her jaw dropped open as the blood slowly drained away from her face. "But, how-?" she stammered. "Ziendriel was a miracle, you know it as well as I. I did not think it would affect my infertility." As a close friend to her family and also as a revered healer, he had been privy to her special situation regarding her firstborn. It had been a great comfort to her.
"Lilia, you were blessed with the very powers of an elven sorceress," he told her gently, sitting down next to her. "One who was blessed with great healing. I have no doubt that the time spent within you was used wisely on the part of Aìnu's powers."
Sudden understanding dawned within her eyes. "Ziendriel cured me!" she whispered, her eyes wide. When Elrond merely nodded, tears suddenly blurred her vision. "Children! Before Ziendriel that dream has always been denied to me. And now…now!" A grin suddenly burst out onto her face and she reached over and hugged Elrond.
END FLASHBLACK
Jhad sat quietly on the balcony of the princess' bedchambers, staring out into the trees surrounding the palace. Inside, Legolas stood vigil over Ziendriel, an act Jhad himself would be performing had the princess not been married. As her Guardian, it was his duty to oversee her safety, a duty that he so far was failing in.
The honor of the Guardians of Aìnu had long belonged to his family, first bestowed upon his grandfather Sèro. When he left for the Undying Lands, the duty had passed on to Varno, Jhad's father. Varno had taught his son the importance and the honor that accompanied such a responsibility, and Jhad's young heart and mind had absorbed it eagerly.
Unfortunately, the torch had once again passed from father to son when Varno was killed while protecting Aìnu. He had been the reason the sorceress had escaped the first time from the Men, but had paid with his life. Jhad had been devastated at his father's death for in his eyes there had been no greater man, save his grandfather, who had ever served in that capacity.
A year after his father's death, Jhad suffered another loss when his mother left for Valinor, hoping the safe haven of the Elves would help unburden her heart. Súre had held the broken pieces of her heart until she felt she could no longer do it and had all but fled Mirkwood, pausing long enough to bid farewell to her son. Had he not been bound by duty as a Guardian, Jhad was sure he would have gone with his mother.
He'd thrown himself into that duty with unusual conviction for his age at the time. Merely three hundred years old and dealing with the loss of his parents, he worked day and night training. It had been his idea to King Thranduil to jumble the events of Aìnu's last days, with the intent of setting any seeking Men off the path that led to Ziendriel. Thranduil had been impressed by the suggestion and had done accordingly to his request.
Jhad had watched Ziendriel from the moment of her birth. He had stood guard outside Lilia's door as she labored to bring her daughter into the world; he'd also been one of the first, after Jerec, to hold the newborn Elfling and gaze at her with wonder; from afar he'd witnessed her first steps, as well as her first word, and many other firsts in her life. As his father had taught him, Jhad had watched the she-Elf with well-trained eyes, always with the cover of secrecy for acknowledgement of her Guardian and his true purpose was not permitted.
And then came the day that he'd hoped would never arrive. He had silently followed Ziendriel into the forest, watching as she skipped happily among the trees. She had been only six years old at the time, just a year older than Erundil was now, and no doubt just as carefree. So it had been no wonder she had been troubled when she had come across the carcass of a freshly fallen buck….
FLASHBACK
Jhad watched silently from his perch as Ziendriel knelt beside the body of the great animal, secure in his knowledge that she had not detected him. He crouched down upon the bough of the tree a few feet behind her, his keen eyes surveying the actions of his charge.
He saw Ziendriel reach out to gently stroke the now cooling flesh of the buck, and could tell from her slouched posture that she wept. Her long fingers ran over the shining coat of hair, pausing over its eyes. With a moment's thought, she closed the animal's eyes, then bowed her head in solemn tribute as she whispered an Elvish verse of farewell. It was then that Jhad realized that as she did this, her hand, which had rested upon the bulk of the animal's body, began to glow. It began as a dim, fluctuating light, starting at her palm. As the light began to spread to her fingertips, it grew stronger in its brilliance until it held the brightness of a small sun. With growing awe, Jhad watched as light slowly seeped from Ziendriel's hand and spread across the buck, enclosing them in a great sphere of blinding light.
Jhad turned away from the scene before him, vainly attempting to shield his eyes from the light. It was of no use as the light seemed to saturate his arm to blind him. He did not know for how long this would last, but was startled when the light suddenly dissipated just moments later.
Lowering his arm to his side, Jhad allowed his eyes to readjust to his surroundings before seeking out the presence of his charge. He almost fell from his perch as his eyes found Ziendriel now standing, happily hopping up and down as she watched the great buck slowly get to its feet and trot away….
END FLASHBACK
Immediately following that incident, he had gone back to the palace to inform the king, as well as the maiden's parents. It had moved him as Lady Yalith had cried in protest, knowing their worst fears of their child possessing the very power she had been molded from, were now manifested. Lord Elrond had warned them of this possibility, that Ziendriel would become what her creator had been, therefore placing her in danger. It had been their hope that despite her unusual beginnings, Ziendriel would be nothing more than an average Elf.
Plans were immediately laid and Ziendriel was whisked off to Rivendell where she would be safe and protected. Lord Elrond had vowed to help her harness her power as a Healer, while at the same time concealing the true extent of her capabilities. Jhad had then enlisted the help of his cousin Anárion, son of his mother's sister and resident of Rivendell, to assist him in protecting Ziendriel. It had been Lord Elrond's suggestion that Jhad stay in Mirkwood to further his training with the king's guard; it had taken hours of assurances from Lord Elrond that Ziendriel would be perfectly safe in Imladris before Jhad had finally relented.
She was safe in Rivendell, Jhad now thought as he stood vigil out on the balcony, Her return to Mirkwood began the chain of events that have now brought us to this point. I wish…I wish for her sake, she had stayed in Lord Elrond's house.
Upon her return to Mirkwood, he had easily fallen back into his role as her Guardian and continued where he had left off. He was now more confident in his commission, having spent the time training and moving up among the ranks of the king's guard. His father would have been proud, he was sure.
It had been his idea alone to pair Legolas and Ziendriel together, but he hadn't been sure as to how. From the reports both Anárion and Lord Elrond had sent him over the years, he had been able to follow Ziendriel's progress as a Healer and as an individual. He was pleased at the attributes she displayed while there in Rivendell and did not doubt her humble disposition was due in part of her powers. She reminded him of Legolas, his friend since their childhood, but on a much quieter level. It had been an answer to a prayer when Legolas had voiced his displeasure at not being able to find a suitable mate; it had given him the opportunity to set his plan in motion. He admitted that it had not played out as smoothly as he had hoped, but it had all worked out in the end: Legolas and Ziendriel had fallen in love and married. He did not know a better ending than that.
Except now her son has been abducted and she fainted at the news of her true self, he thought wryly, Life has decided to throw another life experience at her and I am afraid this will be her downfall.
He grabbed the railing of the balcony tightly, his knuckles white. The guilt he felt over his inability to thus far protect Ziendriel was overwhelming and it took all his strength not to sink to his knees and weep.
"I think she is awakening."
Ziendriel heard those words and moaned. Her eyes felt heavy as she tried to focus her vision on the blurred images floating above her. Her head felt as if it was carved out of stone and she could not lift it no matter how hard she tried. There was a sticky film in her mouth that made her grimace when she swallowed and her ears were ringing. She felt, her head spin as she tried to remember what happened and where she was. Her hand weakly lifted from the bed and shook as she placed it to her throbbing temple. She groaned from the effort, for it felt very much like she had just lifted an entire mountain.
"Ziendriel," a voice gently called to her. "Ziendriel, can you hear me?"
She turned her head slightly to the voice, blinking when all she saw was more blurred shapes. She winced when the voice came again. "No need to shout!" she muttered, squeezing her eyes shut. She heard someone chuckle and perked at the familiarity of the sound. Her eyes once again opened and tried to focus on the shape hovering over her. "Legolas?" she asked, weakly.
Legolas smiled, then turned to Velia who stood behind him. She visibly relaxed then quickly stepped to the other side of the bed and sat down. "You gave us quite a scare, meleth," he told her, chuckling. He gently brushed her cheek and rested his fingers there.
Ziendriel stared at him, forcing her eyes to focus on his eyes. Slowly, his outline began to sharpen, until his face finally came into view. "Legolas," she said, smiling. She placed her hand over his, pressing his warm fingers against her cheek and closed her eyes. "Never have I been more pleased to see you," she told him. "Not after the horrible dream I have had."
She did not see her husband pale at her words nor the frown that marred Velia's face. "What did you dream?" he asked her.
Her eyes opened, revealing the dark green color that he knew so well. "I dreamt that Adrianna was returning to Mirkwood and that I was traveling to Rivendell to see her. Erundil was with me but we were attacked by a band of Men who took our son," she answered, somberly. "I then dreamed that I was not an Elf, but some sort of matter created by a great sorceress." She paused the moment she felt his fingers tense and quickly sought out his eyes. What she saw there made her heart drop. "It was not a dream, was it?" she whispered, staring intensely at him.
Legolas found he could not return the gaze and guiltily looked away. "I am afraid it wasn't," Velia answered for him. She gently smiled at the younger woman, while patting her arm in comfort.
Ziendriel's eyes blazed. "You knew also?" she demanded, turning her head slowly to face her. She winced at the discomfort she still felt, but ignored it. "Who else knew? It is obvious I did not, although it was a matter concerning my very existence!" Velia did not answer her, but averted her eyes.
"I did," a new voice answered, causing Ziendriel to once more shift her head. Her eyes widened when her eyes fell upon Jhad standing in the doorway leading out onto the balcony. He saw her look of disbelief and rushed forward. "I will explain, if you allow me the chance," he offered, standing at the foot of the bed. His face was a mix of many emotions: guilt, sorrow, hope; it made her heart ache even more.
Ziendriel blinked back the tears she felt threatening to spill over. During their entire friendship, it had been Jhad that she had trusted most after Legolas. He had never kept any secrets from before and she had offered him the same courtesy. The pain from it was overbearing. "I cannot," she said, hoarsely. "Not right now." She shook her head slightly, splashing her tears upon her pillow. "This…This is too much…" She buried her face into her pillow to muffle the sobs she had been struggling to hold back.
Velia glanced at the prince, her eyes full of sorrow. "Let us give her a moment," she whispered to him. She stood from the bed, then waited for him to do the same. She saw Legolas hesitate for a moment, his eyes drawn to the shaking body of his wife, but he ultimately decided to grant her request. He stood from his wife's side and sighed. After a moment, he obediently led the way out of the room.
Ziendriel waited until she heard the door close behind them before lifting her head from her pillow. With one glance she saw that she was alone and gratefully so. Rolling onto her back, she sighed. The throbbing in her head had returned and was now causing her to wince. She spoke the truth when she said the situation was becoming too much for her to comprehend. First, Erundil was ripped from her arms, despite her efforts to keep him safe. Then, her whole existence was thrown into a tailspin over the discovery that she was not an Elf but some sort of matter shaped from the power of a long-deceased sorceress. And to make matters worse, the majority of her family knew of it, yet did not tell her.
Why? she thought to herself, Why would they not tell me? Her heart tightened at the thought of her loved ones keeping such a secret from her and she once again felt the tears stinging her eyes.
"You are being ridiculous, Ziendriel!" she told herself, her hands swiping furiously at her tears. "It would not matter when they told me, my reaction would still be the same." Her heart sank as Thranduil's words once again drifted to her ears: Have you not guessed yet, Ziendriel? You bear the mark of Aìnu; you are the child given to the barren couple by the sorceress. "I am nothing," she whispered, a lump forming in her throat. "Nothing more than dirt to be molded." She swallowed hard, wincing at the pain in her throat as she did so.
And now I have put Erundil, an innocent, in danger, she thought, guiltily. Images of her son flashed before her eyes, causing the sorrow she felt to expanse hundred fold. Her heart screamed in protest at the assault and she allowed her tears to finally fall freely. A torrid of emotions ran through her, making her head spin as she tried to understand and acknowledge her feelings.
"How can I have these emotions?" Ziendriel sobbed, clutching her pillow tightly. "Are they real, for I am not. I am not what I believed myself to be for three thousand years. I am no Elf; I am merely an extension of one. Can one such as I be allowed the luxury of emotions?" The room remained silent, void of an answer, which only served to further upset her.
She continued to sob until she felt her tears eventually slow. Her eyes were uncomfortably puffed and slightly swollen as her sobs quieted into sniffles and her nose was pink from rubbing it so. Ziendriel slowly sat up, throwing her pillow down to the floor. Her head was beginning to throb less and the room didn't spin as much when she moved. She swung her feet over the side of the bed and sat there until her vision was no longer blurred. Hesitantly, she put both feet to the floor and slowly rose to her feet, clutching the edge of the bed to steady herself should she have the need.
A small smile tugged at her lips as she released her death grip on her bed and found herself steady on her feet. She took a few small steps forward, testing herself and her strength. She did not know how long she had been unconscious, though judging by the way her body ached she guessed a few hours. Her legs protested as she began to slowly pace the room, but the ache she felt in them eventually ebbed away from her constant movements.
I need to leave! she suddenly thought, stopping to stare at the doors that led out into the hallway. I cannot think in here! The walls of the room seemed to be closing in on her, making her thoughts scatter and difficult to sort. She contemplated her situation for a moment, then decided against leaving through the doors. No doubt her family would be there, ready to pounce on her. She knew they meant well, but Ziendriel did not wish to speak with them at the moment. In a way she felt betrayed by them all, but could not really place the blame on them. She knew her family; they would not purposely hurt her.
But it did not make it any easier to swallow the truth.
She needed room to think, to sort her feelings out, but it could not be accomplished with her family hovering over her. If she told them she wanted to take a walk in the garden, someone would insist upon accompanying her, defeating the whole purpose of her desire to be alone. I admit I did not react well to the truth when I was told, she thought, wryly, But it is as if they anticipate I will hurt myself because of it!
Shaking her head slightly, Ziendriel glanced about the room, searching for another exit. Her eyes fell upon the balcony and the open doors that beckoned her. Without a thought to what she now contemplated, she quickly made her way outside and glanced over the railing. "It does not look so high this time," she murmured, smiling through the discomfort of her puffed eyes being slightly tugged. It had been just a few days before that she had looked down from the very same balcony and deemed it too high.
Her eyes spied the branch of a tree that stopped just short of the railing and followed the limb back to the trunk. The tree was only a few feet away from her and held many branches to help in her descent to the ground. It is almost like the tree outside my old room at father's house, she thought, suddenly grinning at the memories of the many times she had "escaped" from her room thanks to that tree.
Glancing back at the doors of the bedchambers, Ziendriel perked her ears but did not hear any evidence of being interrupted. Gracefully, she hopped up onto the railing, steadying herself with one hand pressed against the outside wall, while the other held up the hem of her dress. She sniffled as she counted silently to herself before jumping from one perch to the other, her eyes concentrated on the branch and not the ground below. She nearly screamed in delight when her feet landed solidly atop the limb without so much as a wobble, but managed to bite the exclamation back. With renewed confidence, Ziendriel walked towards the great trunk of the tree and nimbly jumped down to a lower bough. She continued hopping from branch to branch, making her way swiftly down the tree until her feet were finally on the ground below.
She took a moment to glance back up towards her balcony, feeling her eyes widened as she realized the great distance she had managed. She would no doubt pay the consequences once Legolas discovered what she had done, but at the moment she did not care. Her concentration had been solely on her descent that she had not noticed the slight lightening of her burden on her shoulders. It did not feel so heavy outside, which lifted her spirits somewhat. She turned and quietly whispered her thanks to the tree, then turned and ran through the garden.
If she was to accomplish what she needed to do, then it was best if she hurried. Escaping her room in the manner she'd just performed would be for naught if she was discovered now. And she could not afford that, not as her thoughts now ran unrestrained through her head. She lifted the hem of her dress higher as she ran, allowing her feet the freedom they craved. It quickened her steps and she soon found herself on the path that led her out of the garden and ended at the forest just beyond it.
Her tears had returned, slightly blurring her vision, but she continued her way despite the minor setback. She furiously wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, her pace slowing as she did so. The images of her vision before falling unconscious rushed back to her, as well as Erundil's screams and King Thranduil's admission of her parentage. Round and round the words and images spun into her head, nipping and snapping in assault of her heart, until she finally let forth a sob and sunk to her knees. She doubled over as the tears splashed upon her dress, her body shaking with each sob. She cared not of the spectacle she made of herself nor the clamor she caused to echo in the woods. Her grief now controlled her and she succumbed to its power willingly.
It was then that she heard her husband yelling for her, the worry in his voice mixed with his anger. Ziendriel did not pause in her grief, but did glance back. She regretted doing so when through her tears she saw him standing out on the balcony, his blue eyes bright despite the distance between them. His handsome face was dark with fury as he stared at her, no doubt cursing her for being so foolish.
It does not matter, she thought, turning away from his piercing eyes and wiping her face dry with the sleeve of her dress. She quickly got to her feet and took off running once more. She heard Legolas give a shout of frustration, which only furthered her determination to lose herself within the forest. She did not doubt that Legolas was now after her and if she wished to gain a semblance of peace for herself, she would need all the advantages she was allowed.