Please forgive the delay! Life has been crazy, and I've been writing other things. On that note, I will not be abandoning this by any means.
Thank you for the reviews and messages from my last chapter, your kind words are encouraging.
- S
- Chapter 70 -
Her rich, green and brown skirt fluttered about as Lastril elegantly made her way down the corridors of the more elegant housing areas for those of noble standing. Her chin was held high, and she passed the two guards that stood at the topmost step.
She paid them no mind like always, and upon her arrival to the grand hall where feasts of this magnitude were normally held, she was momentarily stunned for words. Inside looked like a rich forest with candle filled moss that draped around the carved stone pillars. It was like stepping into the forest itself. The elegantly carved columns were as beautiful as always, and she wondered if the stranger's arrival and the prince's return home weren't being combined into one happy celebration. The feasting hall was normally well decorated and always stunning, but it looked as if the King ordered for a more enriching atmosphere. She smiled. This was one of her favorite places.
Already many elves were laughing and singing softly, and it was music to her ears. She recognized some of the verses, even if they were soon overlapped by other songs the further into the hall she went.
As usual, the table she would sit at was already occupied by the normal group of ellith and ellyn. She narrowed her eyes as she spotted Osbeth already seated next to her husband, Nedion. The other elleth met Lastril's gaze with a wicked glint in her eyes, and Lastril almost pulled up short. Thankfully, Lastril's hesitancy was quickly and expertly masked with the same, calm and cool expression she mastered years ago.
"Ah," Osbeth sighed dramatically. "Our Lady of the evening has arrived at last."
Lastril wanted nothing more than to bite back with a well-versed retort, but she simply smiled at the happy couple. Their marriage was officiated two years ago, but they still looked like love-struck elves. Clearly marriage was working out well for them, though Lastril felt Nedion, brother of Nodron, could certainly have done better with his selection of a bride. Osbeth, though beautiful if Lastril had to be honest, was a downright sour apple to be around.
"Lady Osbeth, Nedion," Lastril said, nodding her head at them before taking her own seat. "How fares married life?"
Osbeth's eyes narrowed just like Lastril expected them too, and when Nedion heard his name, he turned fully in his seat to properly greet her.
"Lady Lastril," he said, nodding his head curtly at her. "Marriage suits us well, thank you for asking."
She smiled brightly, and Osbeth's eyes narrowed even more but she said nothing, and turned back to her husband and the prior conversation they were having with Osbeth's sister down the table.
To Lastril's right, sat Norien, and while the two exchanged looks, they said nothing to the other.
Lastril's eyes flickered to the still empty head table. She always loved this part of the dinner: the build of up anticipation. Though tonight, she felt different for reasons she couldn't quite understand. It felt off.
Indeed, the hall was buzzing with talk just like it was with sweet, soft songs and melodies of merry elves. She listened closely to the talk at her table in particular, for if there was anything of importance to be heard, it would be right here.
"Lady Lastril," Norien said next to her, her face bright with wonderment. It was clear the she-elf was already indulging in the fine wines selected for the feast. "Are you as anxious as the rest of us to discover who this traveler is?"
Lastril's stomach clenched. She knew the others would be turning to her for information, but she was mildly surprised when Norien didn't ask if she knew who this stranger was. No, she was asking if she was as anxious as the rest of them, which told Lastril that they knew she didn't know anything more than anyone else. Normally, Lastril was proud to say she was always well informed, and she thrived on the knowledge that others didn't have, but tonight, she was disappointed to say that was not the case.
"I thought perhaps you would have knocked on the doors of the royal wing itself to find out who it was," Osbeth said suddenly, turning back to Lastril with that same glint in her eyes. No doubt Osbeth was taking joy in the fact Lastril was not as well informed or included in the happenings with the royal family. "I see that you did not."
"The guards have doubled," Glariel said from opposite Lastril. Her eyes were wide with excitement, and she brushed her long blond hair back with a slender hand. "No one would have been able to knock on any doors, much less the royal wings."
"Does this not make you sad, Lastril?" asked Osbeth curiously, and she tilted her head to the side.
"You are playing with sand, Osbeth, and I care not for your frivolous words this evening. We are all anxious to discover who this traveler is, and to see for ourselves that our Prince is in good health," Lastril said coolly.
Again, Osbeth's eyes narrowed. "I heard the traveler was a woman."
Lastril knew Osbeth was simply trying to get a rise out of her.
"A woman?" murmured a few ellith that sat around them.
Lastril snorted. "A woman? From where, Osbeth? Rohan? Gondor? No fair maiden from those lands would take residence within the King's private wing. None would be important enough. I heard it was a man."
"He would be a short man, then," Nedion chimed in from his wife's side. He draped an arm around the back of her chair, encircling Osbeth's shoulders almost protectively, and Osbeth chose that moment to give her husband an adoring smile. Jealousy flared within Lastril's chest.
Oh, Lastril had no romantic feelings for Nedion, it was the act itself she desired the most: the protective feel of someone's arms wrapped securely around her, to know she wouldn't have to face another feast alone. Plenty of ellyn showed her interest, but her sights were already set elsewhere. She wished she didn't always have to vie for the prince's attention, she wished he would simply give it to her willingly.
Why he didn't, she couldn't fathom. She was perfect for him, except for the fact she wasn't. Images of the white haired she-elf filled her mind once more and the internal burn was almost blinding. Soulmate? What soulmate left their other half, especially if the rumors were true and they bonded at first sight? It was laughable and highly embarrassing.
"Not all those of the race of men are tall like the Rangers of the North or of Gondor," Lastril commented.
"True, but the clothing the stranger wore was that of a female traveler, so whomever this guest is, is clearly no man," Nedion said firmly, and more whispers erupted down the table.
Lastril could have chosen to argue her side, but Nedion already turned away and continued his lingering conversation with another ellon down the way, and there simply was no point.
Everyone was anxious, and now it was only a matter of time. Lastril sipped her wine slowly while the whispers flowed like the wine itself. She discreetly sought out Sidhel and Nodron at a nearby table, and then she pinpointed the rest of the prince's personal guards one by one at that exact same table. Did they never leave the comforts of their troop? They were always close together in one way or another, so finding them wasn't difficult. It was part of being on the guard, she figured, that it brought them closer together.
Sidhel and Nodron did not look as well composed like she expected. If anyone were to know anything, perhaps it would be those two, but the prince's two closest friends looked worried and slightly unhappy. They talked between themselves with their two heads bowed close, clearly partaking in a private conversation.
As if he felt her watching, Sidhel met her gaze with an ice-cold glare that had Lastril blinking with surprise. She tried to keep calm and collected, but his icy glare caught her by surprise so quickly it had her recoiling, and she was forced to look away. Obviously, something was wrong, but she couldn't figure out what it was she specifically had done to earn such a cold look. Sure, the two of them didn't get along and they shared their fair share of glares over the years, but somehow this was different.
She could feel his eyes on her long after she turned away, but she pretended to take no notice. Whatever was bothering the guard was surely not linked to her in any way. It couldn't be.
Suddenly, all singing, and music ceased.
It was time.
Standing along with the rest of the hall, Lastril rose to greet their fair King and his son and the members of the royal court and council. When the doors opened though, Lastril was not the only one who was confused.
The King took his normal seat in the center of the long and elegant table while his councilors, Lords, and Ladies found their own seats. The prince, however, did not follow in after his father. Two chairs to the King's left sat empty and Lastril frowned when the King took his own seat and the doors behind him closed.
The hall erupted into a fit of murmurs and quiet whispers. Lastril's father, oddly enough, sat down on the King's right a few seats away. His eyes were dark, and they skimmed over those in the hall as if he were looking for someone. She was hoping to catch his eye, to get some sort of confirmation all was well, but he absolutely refused to look in her direction. She wondered if he knew what was going on. Based on the way his eyes were darting around and the uncomfortable posture he exhibited, she had to assume not.
The rest of those seated with the King looked equally perplexed and muttered amongst themselves quietly. If the King heard these whispers, he made no notice of them. Instead, he reclined in his chair and focused his eyes on the back of the hall as if he were expecting something.
As the rest of the hall continued to question what just happened, the doors in the back opened once more and suddenly the entire atmosphere in the grand hall changed, as if someone blew out a candle. She turned along with the rest of the party goers, and her blood ran cold.
Her breathing hitched as the doors loomed before them. He gave her hand a gentle and reassuring squeeze, but she felt completely frozen and tense. The silvery blue and white gown draped off of her shoulders in more layers than she knew what to do with. Its elegance rivaled anything she had ever worn before. The blue sapphire necklace centered in a circle of white diamonds (brought with her from Lothlorien) hung from her neck. It matched the circlet she wore on her brow.
Arossel did wonders with her hair, making sure each and every curl was delicately pieced together. Glass beads covered her entire gown from top to bottom, and the rich fabric sashayed around her legs. The slippers on her feet were ridiculously comfortable, and that was probably the only highlight of the entire ensemble.
"You look stunning," he said quietly in her ear as he leaned down closer toward her. His lips brushed her right temple in a light kiss, and she felt a shudder flow through her body at the contact.
How was it possible that such a simple touch from him could be so reassuring?
When she looked up and caught his eye, he gave her a small smile. She tried to reciprocate the gesture, but found she was unable to.
"Not too bad yourself," she replied.
"Do not worry so much," he said softly, but she shook her head. "Everything will all be fine."
"Easier said than done. I'm not ready for this."
"You are ready, and I am right here. I will not leave your side tonight; you have my word."
"How are you so calm?" She desperately wanted to know how he could appear so confident and collected, as if he did this sort of thing every day.
Then again, compared to her short amount of time in Arda, she couldn't deny he had much more experience with this sort of thing than she did. She was confident that no matter how many years she spent in this world, doing this sort of thing was something she would never get used to.
He stopped them and turned to face her, grasping both of her hands in his.
"Because I have faith everything will be well, Nimbrethil," he said quietly. "It is a simple feast, not a war."
She gave a hollow laugh. "It feels very much like a battle we are headed into."
He gave her a soft smile and raised a hand to brush his fingers across her cheek. "If it is a battle we are headed into, then I must say you will be the fairest and most dangerous elf within the Realm. You do not know just how beautiful you are, do you?"
She blushed furiously. "Beauty does not win wars, and you're changing the subject."
"No, but strength and courage do."
"So does a strong army and a well thought out battle plan."
He closed his eyes and lowered his chin, and she realized that was not the point he was trying to make. He sighed softly and shook his head. "You will be safe, love, so please do not worry so."
He could sense her stress and it was troubling, hence one of the reasons he declined telling her about his conversation with his father the night before. She was upset enough as it was, and though he knew he should tell her, the timing was not right now. He vowed not to leave her side tonight and knew without a doubt she would be well protected throughout the whole evening.
She blinked in surprise when he called her 'love.' It was the first time he ever called her that, or anything besides the two names she bore. It was a strange feeling and felt far more intimate than she expected. She cared for him deeply, yes, but love? Maybe someday.
"Do you trust me?" he asked, looking her in the eye once more. Without hesitating, she nodded. "Good. Then trust me when I say it will all be well."
Before she knew it, his lips found hers in a soft and tenderizing kiss. He cupped her face in his hands and she felt the tension within her slowly recede.
Time seemed to move slowly for Shyloh. From the moment the doors to the grand hall opened till she was sat in a chair at the head table she couldn't recall if she remembered to breath or not. Sitting next to her on her right, Legolas offered her a reassuring smile. She'd been told to simply act normal, whatever the hell that meant. Tonight, was in honor of her, and she should be enjoying herself.
All through supper eyes watched the head table curiously and anxiously. If Thranduil's spies were out there working, then she had to trust that the King knew what he was doing.
"Pay them no mind," Legolas said to her quietly. "They are excited to see you once more."
She raised her eyebrows. "Why is that? I was only here for a short while the last time, and that was before a war broke out."
"You bring us hope," he said quietly.
She gave him a long, calculating look. "Why?"
"That happier days might be in our future."
"Elves are leaving these shores as we speak, do they not sail to a happier place?"
"They do, but we will linger here for a time yet. We can still carry hope for a brighter world here before we depart."
"And I bring that hope?" She was very doubtful of any of this. Who was she to bring hope to an entire race? She was merely one elleth, one who was raised in foreign lands as a mortal at that.
"You bring that hope to me," he said softly.
She blushed furiously but the look in his eye was honest and truthful. Yes, she could see she brought hope to him, and that eased her worries by much.
The evening passed in a blur for her. One glass of wine was all she was willing to indulge in. She met countless faces, most of their names she would never remember. There were a few faces, however, she couldn't deny she was happy to see.
Sidhel and Nodron, though they wore tense expressions, smiled when they caught sight of Shyloh when she and Legolas approached. Music and dancing were well underway, and the wine was certainly flowing freely. Sidhel's smile faded slowly, back into a somber expression she couldn't understand. Whatever was troubling the ellon, he kept it to himself, but she didn't miss the hard looks exchanged by himself and the prince.
"Princess," Nodron bowed low then took up her hand and kissed her knuckles. "To say I am surprised to see you within these halls would be a generous understatement. Pray tell, what has brought you back under the guise of such heavy secrecy?"
She hesitated and looked to Legolas for guidance.
Legolas stepped closer to his two friends. "A question that I will answer, mellon nin, but not here."
Sidhel's jaw muscles twitched just the slightest. If Shyloh had to guess, she would say Sidhel was a bit peeved that he was left out of a secret as large as this. If the look he was now giving his friend was any consideration toward how he was feeling, she would guess her hunch was right.
Sidhel was pissed.
And he had every right to be. No doubt the friendship between the two ellyn went as far back as you could go, and when Legolas explained himself, would Sidhel feel threatened by the fact the secret had been kept from him because he, too, had been considered a suspect? How much would this tarnish the friendship between them? And would Sidhel blame Shyloh? Or perhaps Legolas had simply been forced to keep it quiet because his father, the King, ordered it and disobeying said King would have resulted in punishment.
Either way, she felt horribly guilty. She didn't want to come between their friendship.
"I have missed you both," she said with a hesitant smile. "And I do hope you'll forgive me for not coming to say hello earlier. It was a long and stressful trip I'm afraid."
"Are you unwell?" Nodron asked, his brow furrowing. Sidhel's eyes landed on her with a hint of worry.
"No, no, I'm fine, really."
"Her trip was made in earnest," Legolas explained quietly. "And the reasoning behind it has taken a toll I am afraid. The King ordered her to rest before announcing her. He did not wish more burden upon her until she recovered fully."
Well, that wasn't exactly a lie, but it wasn't exactly the entire truth either. She hoped it would satisfy the both of them until Legolas was able to disclose the true purpose behind her arrival. Sidhel's expression softened slowly, and he nodded.
"Forgive me," he said, bowing his head slightly. "For my distant behavior. You most certainly know how to make an entrance, my Lady."
"Yes, it was quite magnificent. I daresay even the King has never stunned an entire audience into silence quite like you have. It will be the talk of the Realm for many years to come," Nodron said almost smugly.
Shyloh blushed furiously and had to turn her head away to hide her embarrassment. When her eyes fell upon the familiar chocolate covered honey-streaked hair, her stomach clenched and the supper she just ate moments ago wiggled. There was no mistaking the hostility in the elleth's eyes, and it put Shyloh on edge. She was surrounded by an entourage of ladies, all of whom were making their way toward where she and Legolas stood now. If Sidhel looked upset earlier, it was nothing compared to how irritated he was now.
One she-elf in particular, led the group, a wide smile upon her beautiful face. Shyloh did not recognize her, but the warmth and acceptance radiating from her eyes was humbling to her, and she felt neither hostility nor displeasure in her steps nor demeanor. The other she-elves were quite the same, save the one at the center of their fold.
The icy stare slowly dissipated, as if the she-elf chose that very moment to rein in her anger, and a slight smile curled up the edges of her lips ever so slightly. It was a mask. Shyloh knew the moment she saw Lastril that nothing good would ever come between them. No friendship would be found there.
"My Lord and Lady," the first elleth said with a smile, and she curtsied low with her head bowed respectively. "We beg you forgive our intrusion, but we were eager to finally meet the Princess of Rivendell."
"No apologies needed, Lady Osbeth," Legolas said with a small bow of his head.
As the group of ladies introduced themselves one by one, Shyloh felt some of the tension ease from her chest until the circle came full round and Lastril was the final elleth who had yet to speak.
Kill them with kindness, she thought. So, she would.
"Lady Lastril," Shyloh said with a smile. "I am so pleased to see you again. You are looking well this evening."
Lastril's eyes flashed for the briefest of moments that Shyloh thought she perhaps imagined it, and then the lady gave her a dazzling smile that would have made any man's knees go weak. She stepped forward and then dipped into the most graceful and elegant curtsy.
"Princess Shyloh, I thank you for your kind words," she said, her voice as smooth as silk. "What a pleasant surprise this evening, to see you have once again arrived within the halls of the Woodland Realm."
If Shyloh didn't know any better, she would have believed the genuine honesty laced within the words Lastril was speaking. However, Shyloh had a feeling that just like the expression she masked only moments ago, her tone was also impeccably schooled. As it were, Shyloh wished this conversation was over. The last time she spoke with Lastril, she'd been humiliated in front of not only Legolas, but his guards as well. Her connection to the dwarves was no secret, and she wondered if that would still be held against her.
"We were not made aware you would be arriving, are you passing through to visit the Lonely Mountain once more?" Lastril asked, the same smile plastered on her beautiful face.
You would like that, wouldn't you?
"Afraid my trip does not include a visit to the mountain this time," Shyloh said steadily.
"The Princess will be staying within the Realm for a time, I trust you Ladies will help make her feel at home," Legolas added, and there was a collective murmur through the group of approval.
"We would be more than happy to welcome you here," Lady Osbeth said sweetly. She stepped forward and took up Shyloh's hands in her own and gave her fingers a gentle squeeze. "We would love to have you for the midday meal sometime soon."
"I would love to join you," Shyloh said, even though her mind was racing. Osbeth seemed nice enough, but maybe Shyloh was just reading into it all too much. Maybe these ellith really did want to spend time with her. But, if they were friendly with Lastril, that could also mean there might be underlying issues.
Lastril disliked her, no matter what kind of smile was on her face right now. But when Osbeth shot Lastril a smug and superior look, the smile faltered on Lastril's lips just the slightest.
"Yes, we would love to show you around, if Ernil nin Legolas has not yet had the chance to," Lady Norien said, stepping forward.
"I for one would love to hear all about Lothlorien," Osbeth added. "That is where you have traveled from, is it not? Unless your travels took you elsewhere after you left here the last time? In which case, we would still love to hear of your travels."
Shyloh smiled. "Yes, I came straight from Lothlorien."
"I would love to hear about Rivendell as well as Lothlorien," Lady Glariel said, stepping closer to Lady Osbeth to join their small circle. "I have always desired to look upon both."
Maybe there's hope in Mirkwood after all. . .
Her soaring good mood only lasted until Shyloh met Lastril's gaze once more. The elleth might have been an expert at schooling her expressions, but if the way her hands were linked and the white of her knuckles were any indication as to how Lastril was truly feeling, Shyloh would have to say there was a fire brewing just beneath the surface.
