Chapter Thirteen

Sirith silently opened the door to her room. As it swung open silently, she looked into the hallway outside. There were bare walls. A long row of pedestals was lined up against the wall with flowers piled gracefully and tastefully on them. She could see no sign of any other person. She silently walked over to the nearest pedestals, a column of white marble with moonflowers, hibiscus flowers, and one red rose on it.

As the elf-maiden breathed in the scent of flowers, she closed her eyes and mentally ran through the directions from the mysterious note. She walked for some time through the sunlit flowers without finding more than a turn in the long, deserted corridor.

When she did find a change, the hallway opened up to the clear, outside air and the refreshing spray of another waterfall. Around this cataract, there were hibiscus and lilac shrubs, as well as linden and holly trees, moonflowers, morning glories, lilacs, lilies, and many varieties of roses.

The passage opened directly to a stretch of grass that extended down to a small strip of rocks about five feet wide that sloped down about three or four feet to the rim of the pool the waterfall fell into. The waterfall was cut into a gracefully curving valley whose rim extended right out to the hallway.

From the clear, deep pool, a small creek, the beginnings of a river, flowed directly through a rut in the hallway floor about six inches deep. The slit continued down the hillside as an aqueduct for as far as she could see just outside the corridor on the other side. She could only see this by bending down to look through the slit the water flowed out from.

The graceful elf-maid found that this cleft in the cliff was a perfect place to bathe her healing wounds. The spot was isolated and hidden from prying eyes.

She was quite grateful for this chance to be clean and change bandages. She had not bathed her wounds in a long time, as far as she knew, and really was starting to feel unclean.

She decided to make use of this pool. No one disturbed her while she cleaned the extra scabbed blood that was stuck all over her body, even though her clothes lay under a large hibiscus shrub. For quite awhile, she reveled in cleanliness.

When she returned to the rocks from bathing her wounds, she noticed bandages stuck into a gap in the rocks where she would not have noticed them when she got into the pool. Upon seeing that, she suddenly understood what the note had meant by 'something of use'.

Carefully and rather awkwardly, she rewrapped her wounds. Once that was completed, she returned to her place of residence.

oooooooooooo

Sirith sat on a chair sitting by one of the large, symmetrical windows, staring out into the pouring rain beyond the panes of glass. She was thinking about her father, Telpegil. He was dead.

Sitting in front of her was a set of drawing supplies that Glorfindel had given her so that she would not go mad from boredom.

As she thought, she heard the door to her room open quietly. She heard footsteps approaching her slowly. She felt a gentle hand on her should. It was a warm hand with slender fingers. For some time still, she sat staring out into the torrent.

After some time, whoever it was spoke in a voice that did not belong to the elf that had visited her previously. The voice was male and spoke in Eldarin. He said, "Lhawe, i edhel man tulant si cituva." (Listen, the other who came to you will lie to you.)

"How can you be so sure?" she asked. As she asked this, she heard receding footsteps. Nobody answered her, so she turned to find the room empty. With that in mind, she returned to her thoughts, a new question on her mind.

oooooooooo

Glorfindel silently swung the door to Sirith's room slowly open. Upon looking inside, he found that she was standing on the balcony. Her slender figure shone in the moonlight. The light of the silvery moon reflected off her raiment and hair, as well as from the waters of the pool far below. Her skin appeared nearly luminescent in nature, and made her whole body shine like the bright moon up far above in the dark sky. The beryls and mithril holding part of her dark hair down to her skull shined like miniature green stars.

He could see why the followers of Celegorm, Curufin, and Maeglin wanted her. He could easily see her as Luthien. To him, she was absolutely beautiful. He was glad that she had been here these four months.

As he looked at her tenderly, a poem sprang to mind, improvised as he looked at her form shrouded in silvery-white moonlight.

With two bright eyes, my star, my love,

Thou lookest on the star above:

Ah, would that I the heaven might be

With a million eyes to look on thee.

Uar galad hin, imo gil, imo mel,

Tiralye i elenath tira si:

O, uva im i menel bele na

Uar rimbe hinello neftirlye.

Slowly and quietly, he walked through the moonlit room to the almost empty balcony. As he approached her slender form, he slowed down even more and ever-so-slowly made his way to Silasea's side. He reached out and touched her hand resting on the ledge. She immediately whirled around to face him with a look of surprise on her fair face and a very tense body. She looks beautiful when she is surprised, and other times, he reflected. Her green eyes widened and her body relaxed visibly when she saw him.

He decided that he should comfort her, and maybe apologize for frightening her. "It is only me," he said rather quickly yet still reassuringly. She let out the breathe she did not know she had been holding and narrowed her eyes to their natural width. She quickly changed her posture until she came to stand before him, not nearly as tense as before. "I came to see how you were adjusting," he said, continuing on with calming her gently.

"I am doing quite well, thank you," she said. She actually sounded sincerely, and not a hint of sarcasm colored her tone. She seemed quite calm, if somewhat on her guard.

He gestured to the noisy waterfall and said, "A beautiful night, wouldn't you say?" He personally found that she dimmed the beauty of the dark night with her radiant, shining form. He turned to look at the waterfall and heard her doing the same quietly.

"Indeed, yes." He thought that her answer was far too brief of an answer, but it was a start. Surprisingly, she continued by saying, "What happened to Morgoth?"

"The warriors who came for you severely wounded him," he said.

"I saw that much. What I meant was: Is he alive?"

"I don't know," he said slightly worriedly.

"Esselye na Silasea," he said in his clear, elven voice. Her head snapped up and turned to look at him as he talked in her native language. Hopefully, she had reacted mostly from his name, and not just from the fact that he was speaking in Sindaran.

"What did you say?" she asked in surprise and disbelief. She had answered very quickly, with surprise and recognition in her voice. Glorfindel was suddenly quite hopefully that she did remember and had merely hidden that fact.

"Esselye na Silasea." (Your name is Silasea.)

"Unin!" (Not me!) As she said this, she unsuccessfully tried to step away from him. She really does not remember, he thought sadly.

"Esselye na Silasea! Rinlye!" (Remember!) He took her waist and pulled her slender body in close so she would not run from him. She would remember! She MUST remember! She quickly fought to free herself from his grip. Her eyes suddenly went immensely wide, and her skin whitened to a deathly pale hue. She collapsed wordlessly and quite soundlessly on the spot right into his waiting arms.

Quickly and jostling her as little as possible, he adjusted his grip so that he would not harm her and carried her over to the bed. He laid her down gently on the mattress. He left knowing she had remembered and would be alright in times to come.

Neither of them had any inkling as to the fact that they were being observed by two dark, slender figures on the other balcony higher up. In fact, neither of them had any idea that they were, in fact, being watched for reactions.

One of these two figures said to the other figure in a quiet tone that was blank of emotion, "Let us hope she does not remember that we made her forget."

"That would be most disastrous," answered the other slender figure.

oooooooooooooo

A dark, cloaked figure watched over Sirith Silasea for the whole time that she was in the grasp of Glorfindel. He would watch her while she stood out on the balcony, in her sleep, and anywhere else she went in the compound. He was waiting for the time to take her back from her kinsmen, the elves.

So far in his wait, he had been quite patient; but when she had fainted, he had almost rushed over to help her. When Glorfindel laid her on the bed, he had whispered, "Silasea." He had wanted to reach out and touch her so badly that it was almost unbearable. Once she was alone, he rushed to her, climbing for over a minute to get to her.

He found her asleep, her hair pooling behind her in dark rivulets. He slowly touched her face and whispered in a voice that laid bare all of his agony, "Please, remember me! Please, think of me! Silasea, my one and only love, my reason for life, please!"