The Confessions of a Servant Girl
Chapter 1: The Great Valíe
I tapped my foot impatiently, it was midday, and Utùen still had not returned. I had sent him out to gather berries…I should have known better. Utùen could not be trusted to accomplish a task as simple as collecting berries for supper. But I cannot complain, he is but 800 years, and time has left no experience for him to learn from. The sun was becoming warm, and I could bear it no longer. Mounting Agawë, my trusty mountain horse, I went out to search for the silly elf.
"Utùen! Utùen! Where have you gone?" If I had not become so used to his untimely disappearances, I might have been worried for his welfare. Groaning in frustration, I asked my horse for a canter as I circled the large meadow for any glimpses of Utùen's blonde head. "Ah! There you are!" I steered Agawë next to Utùen, who was taking a nap on his stomach, his mouth stained with berry juice.
Dismounting, I gave the elf a rough shake on the shoulders.
"Utùen! Get up! It is almost midday, and you lay here, with not even a half basket filled with berries, most of which may I add have ended up in your stomach!" I shouted in his ear. His eyelids fluttered a few times as he tried to adjust to the bright sun.
"Em! You frightened me!" Utùen stammered.
"I forbid you to call me 'Em,' how many times have I told you so? My name is Emladrial. I hate the name 'Em,' how demeaning." I snapped as I shoved the basket back into his hands. "Come along, Hiahka is waiting for these berries. Wait until I tell her how you ate all of them."
"Yes, Em." Then with a quick shake of his head, "I mean, Emladrial." He looked up at me pleadingly. "You are really going to tell Hiahka? I promise I will stop! I will not do it again!"
I could not help feeling a little pity on the poor elf. Hiahka was always extremely strict on him, as he was her nephew. Utùen always had a harsh punishment coming for him when Hiahka found out about something. I did not want to follow through with my threat, and was not planning to, but for the moment, I wanted to scare him straight.
"Let us see how you plan to keep to your word, eh?" I smirked as a lifted him onto the back of Agawe. Then mounting myself, I headed back towards the palace.
I rode swiftly, for Hiahka was expecting these berries back at midday, and it was nearly past. I glanced back once or twice to make sure Utùen had not eaten anymore berries, but other than that, I rushed to the palace.
The Mirkwood forest was crowded with large and powerful trees. They shaded my path so that the sun shed only thin rays of light onto the forest floor. I held tightly to Agawë's mane as he leaped agilely over large logs and unanticipated bushes. After a short ride, we reached the palace. I led Agawë to the pasture to let him graze and went through the back door to the kitchens.
"Hiahka? I have the berries!" I shouted as I strained my neck to look around. There was no one there, so I placed the berries on the table. Turning to Utùen, I tousled his long, blonde hair. "If you do not wish me to tell Hiahka of today's events, go up to your quarters. I will call you down when I need you." After his light footsteps had faded from my hearing range, I looked down at the basket. I glanced around to make sure nobody was around, and stuck my hand into the basket and grabbed a berry. As I was about to put it into my mouth, I heard a gentle knock. In my sudden haste, I smashed the berry between my fingers, staining my fingers red. I spun around swiftly.
"I did not mean to shock you." The intruder said. I immediately recognized it as Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood. He had shocked me in fact, and feeling the sticky mess between my fingers, I wiped it on my apron and performed an awkward curtsy.
"It was unintentional, I am sure." I said, staring at the ground, instead of the prince's eyes.
"Is anyone around? Or is it just you?" He asked.
"I am afraid it is only me. I do not know where the Head of the kitchens has gone, but I am sure if there is something you wish to tell her, I could send the message for you." I said, not daring to look up.
Legolas laughed. "Why do you look down? Am I frightening?"
"What?" I muttered, unprepared for such a remark. "No, of course not." My cheeks turned red, I could feel it, as I looked up. As I glanced at the prince's face, I realized how strong and beautiful his features were, but immediately I scolded myself for having such thoughts.
"Well," Legolas said, "actually, I was not looking for anyone in particular. I just wanted to know if there was perhaps anybody who was perhaps interested in taking on a different type of service tonight."
"What is it?" I interrupted, immediately regretting my interference.
"Patience, patience. I was going to say that my duet partner is not present tonight, she could not appear, and I have a very important performance tonight. I need a quick replacement, someone who is capable of reading notes, and can learn the music quickly. Since you are the only one present, maybe you would be interested?" Legolas asked me, his thick, expressive eyebrows raising.
"Well, I-" I began.
"Do you sing?" He asked me.
"I am not extremely good, but I suppose I, well, I am not sure." I stammered. The thought of stepping out of the kitchens to sing in a performance with the prince was nerve-racking and I was not sure what the answer was to be, or what answer he wished to hear.
"Well, come up, we will have a look. Are you expected anywhere right now?" Legolas demanded.
"Not at the moment. But you see, your highness, I have never sang in public…or done anything in public, really." I said, trying to dissuade him with my fears.
"Nonsense, you will be fine. Come along." He ordered, motioning for me to follow him. "Just leave the berries here, and you might want to wash those hands of yours, berry juice is a rather annoying thing to have all over your hands." He said knowingly. Embarrassed, I rinsed my sticky hands in a bucket full of cool water for cleaning the floors.
I tried to keep up with the prince, his steps were quick and light, and he knew where he was heading. I had no idea of what was happening, I was a blind man he was leading in a maze. We walked quickly through many halls and corridors, brightly lit, many windows, and sometimes dark and shadowed tunnels.
"What is your name?" He asked me was we walked through a dim hallway.
"Em." I said impulsively, but immediately corrected myself. "Emladrial. Em is just what some people call me, like Utùen." To my amazement, he did not ask who Utùen was.
"That is a nice name, very beautiful. But long, I like Em." He replied critically.
I scolded myself for telling him about my childhood nickname. It had annoyed me since my adolescent years, and some of the younger elves still knew me by it.
"Actually, I prefer Emladrial-" I pointed out, but he cut me off.
"Well, you have my permission to call yourself as you please, but I will call you whatever I wish. I think Em is nothing to be ashamed of." He said as he came up to large, wooden double door. "Step inside." He said as he held the door open for me.
The room was not obscenely large, but it had a high ceiling, with a lovely painting decorating it, with a rare intricacy. The ceiling was so high, I felt as if it challenged the sky. A sweet smelling ivy grew along the walls, attaching itself to the columns which ran along the sides of the wall. There were enormously large windows on one wall, and the curtains had been drawn back, and the sunlight was allowed inside, to scare away any type of shadows which had lurked in the room during night. There was no one in the room, but only a music stand at one corner of the room, and a elven flute resting upon it, alongside a few sheets of music.
"Would you stand next to the music stand, please?" He asked, though I felt I could not refuse even if I had desired to.
"I am afraid I was not educated to play the flute…" I began, but Legolas put up his large, fair hand.
"Do not worry, Em. I am not asking you to play the flute. I will play the flute, you will sing along." He commanded. Then, walking by my side, he picked up the flute and began to play. The melody was soft and sweet, and I felt as if it needed no words, but all the same, I glanced at the music sheet and sang to Legolas' playing.
I found it easy to sing in that quiet room. There was no one there, all was silent, except for the gentle tune of Legolas' flute, and my voice. My voice was hushed and airy, but I felt no restraint as I sang to the melody. After a few stanzas, Legolas stopped playing the flute. I stopped singing as I heard this, but to my sheer surprise, he began to sing along. His voice was clear and strong, yet gentle and tender. His stern expressions softened as he enunciated each word clearly. I resumed singing once more, in perfect harmony to his voice. I knew the melody by now, and as I read the words, we sang the whole song through.
"So, was it torture?" Legolas said, a childish smile on his lips.
"No," I said as I laughed uncomfortably, "it was not as bad as I had expected."
"You have a lovely voice, quiet, but it is sweet and genteel. Would you consider being my duet partner?" Legolas said, his face returning to its firm appearance again.
"It would be an honor." I said, even though I was having second thoughts. I had always been shy, and stage fright was my biggest problem I had to face. Standing up among hundreds of people and to have all of them stare at me, and expect me to say something witty, or two sing something beautiful was my worst nightmare.
"Good," Legolas smiled, "good. We should practice more thoroughly, and then I will find someone to dress you in the appropriate attire." He said as he scanned my kitchen uniform with his profound blue eyes.
* * * * *
I stood in front of the mirror, my eyes wide with disconcertion. I was wearing a white gown which hung below my ankles and trailed on the ground. My raven black hair had been tied into strange patterns above my head, curled into loose ringlets. There was a little red scar on my pointed elven ears where one of the servants had accidentally snipped my ears. It felt odd, I had been a servant not too long ago, yet only two hours later, I was being waited on by servants, some of my own friends. The look on Utùen's face as he was asked to fetch some scented water for my hair was enough to give me second thoughts.
I stood alone in the luxurious dressing room, the marble floors freezing my bare feet. Míriel had left a pair of dancing slippers by the mirror, but I had not put them on yet. Unable to bear the coldness of the stone floors any longer, I slipped my feet into them, relieved. I walked about the room several times until suddenly I heard a knock.
"Emladrial—I mean, miss," Míriel said, unused to referring to me as 'miss,' "the Prince has come to speak with you." I nodded, and she let Legolas inside.
"Míriel," he said gently, "if you would not mind, I wish to speak alone with Miss Emladrial, please." The girl nodded and stepped out of the room, probably off to do whatever chores I would be missing. Poor girl.
Legolas turned to face me. His eyes studied me. I looked back, searching for any signs of disapproval or regard. He stood regally as he tilted his head thoughtfully. Then he took my hand and led me toward the mirror, which I had looked through earlier.
"What do you think? Do you give your countenance?" He asked me as he watched me glance at my reflection.
"I feel naked." I said, and it was truthful. My neck felt bare because my long, black hair had been tied on the top of my head. My arms felt bare as well because I had no sleeves to cover them. My skin was dark from the sun, and it appeared even darker next to Legolas' fair complexion.
"Is it because of your hair?" Legolas asked, and I was surprised that he had guessed so accurately. Seeing my agreement, he took the pin holding my hair out, and put it on a dressing table. As my heavy hair fell down my neck, he asked me, "Is that better?"
I nodded, though I was stunned by this action.
"Don't worry, Em," he said, "nobody will mind."
"But," I retorted, "they spent so much time on it, are you sure they would approve?" But as I said those words, I reminded myself he was the prince, and if there was any approval, it should be his. "Never mind."
"The guests are beginning to arrive. I will show you downstairs and introduce you to several people. You are to smile and to nod politely, but I am sure you already know the general procedure. You may speak when you wish, but control your speech to refined words. I tell you this so you have an idea of what you are to face out in the grand hall, but do not underestimate those who are to be waiting outside. Among many great people are my close friends, Gimli, Aragorn, Arwen, Faramir, Ëowyn, Ëomer, Elrond, Galadriel, Celeborn, Frodo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin are just a few. Valìe was to be my partner tonight, and I still have not informed anyone of her absence. I will play my flute the first time, and then I will join you the second round." The Prince explained.
"Wait…so I am to sing alone, the first time?" I was beyond nervous.
Legolas, seeing my fear, reassured me. "It should be easy. If you become nervous while onstage (though you have no reason to, you sang well enough this afternoon) just imagine you are back in the music room, and you are all alone."
I nodded, still skeptical of myself.
There was a knock on the door once more. Legolas permitted the solicitor inside. It was the King, Thranduil. I immediately curtsied and showed the proper respect to the king of Mirkwood. I had rarely left my kitchen before this, and I had never been this close to King Thranduil. Thranduil nodded his head in response to my show of courtesy and moved to speak with his son. He was dressed in a silver ensemble, and his cloak billowed out proudly behind him.
"Dear son," he said, "they are waiting for you in the great hall. Aragorn and Gimli wish to see you, not to mention those little hobbits." Thranduil smiled a warm smile, but it was no match against Legolas' brilliant eyes at the sound of this news.
"I shall be down at once, father. Tell them I look forward to seeing them, especially the hobbits." The Prince replied.
"They await your entrance eagerly." Thranduil replied as he stepped out the door.
Legolas turned to me. "Are you ready?" He asked me, though it was not a question. I nodded hesitantly. Unwilling or unable to suppress a large smile, he motioned for me to follow him as he headed to great hall. We walked through a corridor bearing an extremely high ceiling before reaching the stairs which led to the great hall. From the stairs I could see all the guests congregated down below. The staircase was wide, and fit for the palace it was built in. The velvet slippers on my feet took quick steps on the marble as I hurried down the steps to keep up with Legolas. As soon as he was halfway down the staircase, Legolas shouted out Aragorn's and Gimli's names.
Aragorn and Gimli turned around, rejoicing at the familiar voice. They shouted back in greeting and hurried to meet the Elven prince. As they embraced, I immediately knew they had been very close. They spoke like old friends, even though it was uncommon to see an Elven prince and a dwarf to speak on such open terms. Only several decades back, I would have wondered about this, but after the destroying of the One Ring, it was no longer a mystery. They embraced like they had not seen one another in hundreds of years, though Legolas had only returned with Gimli from a seafaring adventure.
"Legolas!" Aragorn said delightedly, "It is good to see you again! I presume you are well?"
"You are not far from it!" Legolas laughed. "Times have been good, the elves are returning to Mirkwood now that we have reconquered all of it. And Gimli, the riches we had brought back from our journeys have been spent on rebuilding and the healing of trees and animals."
Gimli smiled. "We are glad to hear things are going so well in Mirkwood, certainly I can tell the trees have regained their original vigor, and the animals have begun to come out again. I have grown accustomed and even partial to what you call 'nature,' even though I must say that my heart will always lie in the hidden caves and passages of stone underneath the earth. Yet, I must say that Mirkwood is a beautiful place and is only rivaled by some of the greatest caves."
"Ah, Gimli," Legolas smiled persuasively in return, "we have yet to see. Perhaps by the end of your life (which I hope is not to be soon) your preference will have changed."
Gimli scoffed at this suggestion. "You speak in riddles, Legolas! You know that the dark mountain halls are wondrous places, one such as I could never become disloyal to such hidden majesties."
"It is good to see you two back together and bickering once more over the forests and caves." Aragorn laughed. "But before you two become so engrossed in your arguing, I should like to ask Legolas who that young elf is standing behind him." I had the horrible feeling he was talking about me, and the last thing I wanted was to draw attention to myself. Legolas turned, smiled, and drew me into the small circle of them.
"This," Legolas began, "is Em. She is to be my duet partner for this evening because Valìe was not able to make the appointment." I felt a little resentment that he still called me Em, but that was not what was particularly on my mind that night.
"Em," Gimli retorted, "surely that is not your full name?"
I shook my head. "My full name," I said, a little started at the volume of my voice, "is Emladrial Thulien. Em is just a childhood nickname."
"Be not offended by my question, Emladrial. I did not intend to sound uncouth, though I may have, because I find the name 'Em' quite charming, indeed. I asked only because it seemed shorter than the ordinary Elven name." Gimli explained.
"Worry not, I was not offended, nor did I find you uncouth." I replied, trying to remember to show off my best manners. I turned to Legolas and he gave me a warm look of approval.
"It is a pleasure to meet your acquaintance, and I am sure Arwen would feel the same way." Aragorn said. He motioned to Arwen who was conversing with two people, who I was not sure of their identity.
"Arwen," Aragorn said, as he took her hand and held it close, "this is Emladrial. Emladrial, this is my wife, Arwen Evenstar, daughter of Elrond. I desired for you two to meet one another."
"It is a pleasure to meet you." I said as I nodded politely.
Arwen smiled. "The pleasure is mine. In fact, I was just speaking with Faramir and Ëowyn a moment ago, surely they would wish to be introduced." Hence, she brought Faramir and Ëowyn to the circle, which had now expanded. "Faramir, Ëowyn, this is Emladrial. Emladrial, meet Faramir, steward of Gondor, and his wife, Ëowyn, sister of Ëomer."
I smiled and said a few words, to have them repeat similar words back to me. They were a lovely couple, Faramir was tall, and dark-headed, obviously Boromir's brother. Ëowyn was small, but strong. I had heard of her braver in Gondor and I was honored to have met her. I watched while my circle widened as the legendary hobbits Sam, Merry, and Pippin joined. Strangely enough, I saw only three, when there had been four. They were small…smaller than I had pictured, but they were quite interesting. They had a messy mop of brown hair on their head, and their large, furry feet were exposed. While everyone wore the traditional apparel of their race, the hobbits were the extremists. They dressed in what seemed like the same clothes they probably wore all day. A brown vest with a tan shirt and breeches was what made up their outfit. I could not help but smile as they stuck out their tiny hands to greet me. One by one they introduced themselves. I noticed that Frodo was missing, and I pondered for a short moment about this.
I did not have long to wonder on this, because I heard the voice of the King from the stage. Everyone hushed suddenly, all at once, and turned to face Thranduil.
"I would like to thank everyone for coming. This party is very special, as you all know, because this is the fiftieth anniversary of the destruction of the One Ring. We are honored that you have allowed us to host this annual party, because after the reconquering of Mirkwood, this is our first worldly event to have here. As a commemorative tribute to the great war we all fought, my son Legolas and his partner Valìe will sing a song for us.
"Before we get to the performance, I would like to bring to everybody's attention that among the four hobbits which journeyed to Mordor, only three are present today. Frodo Baggins, the one who bore the Ring, is not with us today. It has come to our attention that he has died a peaceful death in the hands of the elves in Rivendell. May he rest in peace. We owe so much to that courageous hobbit who saved all of Middle-Earth. He, who started off knowing the least about the Ring, was the one who found the bravery to do the unthinkable and accomplish the impossible. So, we dedicate this party in his name. Thank you, Frodo."
I listened intently as everyone fell silent. A strange loneliness overcame me for no reason. I had never met Frodo, merely heard of him in wondrous tales of valor. Perhaps the silence was what left me with the awkward solemnity in my heart.
Thranduil stepped down from the raised platform and Legolas motioned for me to follow him up to the stage. He carried his elven flute with him as we ascended the steps. I stood on the left side, and he took his place at the right. A nervous panic overtook me and I tried my best to subdue my ferocious trembling. As I tried to calm myself, Legolas began a sweet elven melody with his flute. The tune was sweet and sad, touching and tender, and I felt the words come out of my mouth. At first, I was quiet, scared, but as the flute continued creating its nostalgic melody, my voice became louder and more confident. I imagined myself in the music room, with only Legolas and myself, and I found myself able o sing with a more assured voice.
After a couple of stanzas, Legolas dropped the flute and sang along with me. As he sang, I observed the soft tenderness of his expressions. His eyes were warm and pure, untainted with anger of anxiety. His voice was strong, but not loud. It was firm, but it was gentle. He turned to look at me and I glanced at him. I pretended to sing to him to ease the remainder of my tension. I ignored the audience and sang as if he was my only audience. He seemed to do the same thing for he did not pry his eyes from mine. Our gaze held, and I experienced a strange feeling. I was happy. Not the type of happy like when Utúen brought me a flower, or when my late father surprised me with a small locket for my birthday. This was a different happy. The type of happy that was pure and simple. I felt as if I had lost all control over my body. I was merely singing because it was beautiful, and life was beautiful, and the forest was beautiful, and Middle-Earth was beautiful. It was simple, and I left it that way.
Before I could prepare myself, it was over, and the great hall was echoing with unexpected applause. I saw Legolas bow, so I curtsied oddly, lacking the same inherent composure in the royal blood. All of a sudden, the door flew open, and everyone stopped clapping and turned to observe the unanticipated disturbance.
An elf maiden entered the room. She was draped lavishly with silks of green and white. Her flaxen hair hung down to her waist in loose, wavy curls. Her steps were light and lovely, and even I could not stop staring. She walked down the hall to the foot of the stage.
"Legolas!" she said warmly. Her voice was deep and enchanting with a melodic touch.
Legolas, recognizing her, hopped down from the stage to greet the woman.
"Valíe!" I remember the sound of his voice exactly as he spoke her name. It was of joyful surprise and his eyes sparkled with pleasure. "You have come!"
She returned the same look, "Am I late?"
Legolas laughed, "Em and I have already performed the number."
I felt a twinge of resentment at the way he called me "Em," and how he uttered the name "Valíe" with so much respect. But I reminded myself that I was a servant girl and Legolas was a prince, and Valíe was another of noble blood.
"Oh!" Valíe laughed a bright, musical laugh. "Well, I am sorry I was not here to hear it. I am sure it was delightful."
I felt stupid standing on the stage all alone while the people in the hall were completely silent and Valíe and Legolas spoke like old friends. As if just to hide the silence, the audience began to clap once more. Legolas bowed from the aisle and I scurried off the stage. The awkwardness of the moment embarrassed me and it showed up in my cheeks. I could feel them become a crimson hue.
Arwen and Faramir were sitting close to where I had exited and met me.
"Oh," Arwen smiled, "that was beautiful. You and Legolas make a wonderful singing couple. And his flute is marvelous!"
"Quite. I found you two to be quite a pair. Unfortunately it was only a substitution," Faramir said.
"What do you mean?" I twisted a straightening curl from my forehead as I tried to decipher if that was a compliment or an insult.
"You were not aware of this? This duet was intended to be with Legolas' fiancé. Thranduil has been pushing him to get married. Legolas is not usually very sentimental, so it may end up he marries for political reasons rather than love. Well, I guess I should not say that he lacks sentiment, for the way he appeared when he was singing was a look of pure calmness and tranquility," Arwen explained.
"Oh," I said. I was at loss for words. What were they implying? I nodded politely to them and made a quick excuse. "It is getting close to dusk. I am sure they are waiting for me back in the kitchens."
Faramir and Arwen appeared slightly puzzled but smiled anyhow.
"Of course, we do not wish to hinder you and keep you from wherever you wish to go," Arwen said kindly. I marveled at her easiness of speech and grace.
"Thank you," I murmured as politely as I could.
Faramir smiled a handsome smile, "Just remember, you had a terrific performance." I smiled.
I walked a little and hid behind a door. I did not want to go back to being a servant. I could not. I would not be able to bear facing the simplicity of that life. I could not wear the coarse linen after these fine silks. True, I did not particularly mind the servant life, but it all seemed so undignified.
Emladrial, I thought, your brush with fame as left you with a selfish heart, I reprimanded myself. So, out of my own disgust for my feelings, I made ready to leave, but for the quiet whispering voices coming from the other side of my hiding place. I recognized them as the voices of Faramir and Arwen.
I strained to evade the habit of eavesdropping, but I could not, so I listened, though a loud clamor of voices from the great hall was audible.
"Poor girl," I heard Arwen sympathize. It was a bit demeaning to have someone feel pity for me, but I reminded myself that I was still a servant and that if Arwen wanted to shave my head, there would be little that could be done in my defense. "She did so well, and having Valíe interrupt like so."
"Yes, Valíe is a difficult being to be compared with. Not that Emladrial does not possess her own unique grace and charm," Faramir agreed. I continued to listen.
"Valíe is highly accomplished and renowned, but Emladrial has a refreshing personality. So pure and beautiful…" explained Arwen. I smiled in the shadows.
Faramir hastily replied, "Of course. Emladrial is really a love elf maiden. It is really too unfortunate that we could not be friends."
"Where did she say she needed to go?" asked Arwen.
"Kitchens, I believe. How strange, I wonder why…" Faramir answered. I then realized that Legolas did not mention my true occupation.
