After reviewing some of my writing, I've decided to go into some more depth
of my characters in this chapter. Just so we're clear, here are the major
ones in this story.
Alakdaliel- Archwood Princess parents were murdered, taken up residence in Mirkwood, invitation by the king. Soft, yet outspoken at times. Small demeanor, yet fulfilling presence.
Legolas- (I think we all know who he is).
Daren- Royal Guard to the throne of Mirkwood. Highly respected warrior. Known throughout the regions of his skill and stony face. (Until last chapter, that is, where he made a fool of himself.). A/n: Daren is NOT good, if I haven't gotten the point across enough yet. If you can't tell, he's planning a QUITE evil plot.
Chariste- A Mirkwood noble elf. Not especially pretty, but not totally unfortunate. Has befriended the princess. A/n: PLEASE tell me you've noticed her most recent appearance in my last chapter? And let me add, she was following the likes of Daren…can't be too good if you know what I mean. I'll let you decide. (Use your imagination!)
General Rayon- General to the late army of Archwood. Friends with Alakdaliel. Respected though unseemly quiet.
Any other questions? Just ask!
* * * *
Deceptions and Redemption
Alakdaliel twisted in her seat, trying to see beyond the cloud of bushes that surrounded her. It was a nice afternoon; the warm summer air was cooling off, yet it still held it's radiating heat. Again, the bushes creaked, moving ever so slightly. She now sat on a stone bench, just outside the palace, in the gardens. Squinting her eyes, she searched for the invader.
"Who's there?" She called, and was answered with a quite muffled elf, protruding out of the greenery; hair mussed, and back slumped. "Chariste! What is wrong?" Throwing herself down beside the Princess, her shoulders slumped.
"Nothing. I am fine." Her answer was simple, yet it had not hidden the lie behind them.
"Do not lie to me. I can see it a mile away. Where were you yesterday? I had not seen you after the feast." Alakdaliel's question was simple, but Chariste's eyes were submerged in fear, twitting outwards, looking for an escape.
"I… I was talking to an old friend." Her reply came out stuttered. "I cannot delay it any longer…" Her voice trailed off.
"Delay what? Chariste, you know you can talk of any matters to me. I have never seen you so upset! What is so urgent?" Alakdaliel could not keep the worry out of her voice, sustaining the offhand way she had been trying to prevail into the conversation.
"My friend has brought pressing tidings of Archwood." Chariste seemed to cringe at her next statement. "It seems your sister is still alive, and was not killed in the attack." Alakdaliel felt her heart flutter, as if rising out of her chest.
"How can that be? All remaining survivors were brought to Mirkwood. I do not understand. Surely you were misinformed. Do not toy with my emotions to carelessly." She shook with anger, gripping the stone bench under her till her knuckles grew white.
"I do no such thing! I speak the truth. You must travel to Archwood to retrieve her. You must." Chariste's tone seemed almost desperate, and her eyes bore into Alakdaliel's.
"My sister…I thought her lost. If she truly is alive, I cannot leave her there." She said out loud, thought speaking to herself. "I will inform the King at once." She began to stand, but was stopped abruptly by Chariste, who gripped her shoulder tightly, rising to her full height, nearly a foot taller.
"No. You mustn't. I mean, he would never agree to such an admonition. You must go alone if you wish to reach her successfully. Trust me." Her last words remained in the air, hovering just over Alakdaliel. Embracing her friend, she smiled.
"You have done me the greatest favor I have ever received. When I come home with my sister, there will be a grand ball, you the guest of honor! I will leave at daybreak tomorrow." Alakdaliel could not stop the glee that was arisen in her, knowing full well the treacherous journey she was being forced to make.
"Alakdaliel, if one asks where you are going, tell them you are hunting. You have been learning the bow and arrow, have you not?" Chariste hid the underlying tones in her voice.
"Ah yes! I will. Thank you again, my friend. I do not how I will ever repay you." And with that, she leapt from the gardens, running at full speed to her rooms.
* * * * *
Alakdaliel had spent the restless night fumbling around in her bed, knowing well that she would not catch an once of sleep. Her bags were packed, and weapons ready. Sitting up in her bed, she stretched her stiff muscles, deprived of the rest they needed. She recalled the many people she had been forced to lie to, but under the circumstances, it was necessary. Still, she could not shake the feeling of deception it had awakened in her. Pulling on a cloak, and braiding her hair, she gained her composure, but just as soon lost it, for at that moment the door crashed open so hard it bounced off the wall. Alakdaliel immediately grabbed her bow, but felt a moment of embarrassment when the rebounding door slapped hard against Legolas's outstretched hand. A moment more and she decided to hold on to her bow a while longer. The Prince filled the doorway with his broad shoulders, his face a thunderhead; if his blue eyes could really have given off the firebolts that they threatened, they would have blasted Alakdaliel.
Legolas did not appear to see anything but Alakdaliel. "You let me believe you were going hunting for the day." He rasped at her.
"You may have believed it," She said calmly, "But I never said it."
"Never said it? Never said it! You spoke of leaving today and always linked your leaving with the forests of Mirkwood, and the good hunting it provided. Always! What did you mean me to think?"
"But I never said-"
"By the Valar, Woman!" He roared. It was the first time Alakdaliel had seen him loose his composure. " Do not bandy words with me!" This man had an iron self control, but he was at his breaking point now. Alakdaliel was the one who often let her emotions rage, yet she faced him coolly, head high and eyes serene, hands still on her dark silk cloak.
Legolas took hold of himself with an obvious effort. He appeared as stone faced as ever, as much in control of himself as ever, and Alakdaliel was sure it was only on the surface. "I'd not have known where you were really off to if I had not heard that you ordered a carriage. To take you to a ship bound for Archwood. I do not know why you are going, but you are not skilled enough. Archwood is no place for anyone except a fully trained warrior now. I'll not let you go into that!"
"So," Alakdaliel said lightly. "You question my decisions. Perhaps I've misunderstood Prince's all along. I thought you swore to accept, obey, among other things, for your kingdom. I do the same for mine. Legolas, I do understand you concern, and I am grateful-more than grateful- but we all have our own tasks to perform. I am going; you must resign yourself to the fact."
"Why? For the love of the light, at least tell me why! Archwood!" Legolas trembled- actually trembled! - When he received no answer, he clamped his jaw shut angrily. When he spoke, he was strangely hesitant. "You will need someone to help you at Archwood. Someone to keep an orc from slipping a knife into your back. Archwood is that sort of city last I heard. I could…I could protect you, Alakdaliel." Alakdaliel's eyebrows shot up. He could not be suggesting…he just could not be. She gave no sign that he said anything out of the ordinary.
"Your place is with Mirkwood." Sweat beaded on the Prince's hard face, and he struggled with the words. "I can…I must…Alakdaliel…I …I…"
You WILL remain with Mirkwood." Alakdaliel said sharply, "until it releases you from your duties. You will do as I say. Just count yourself lucky I do not tell you to dance for me." She suppressed a grin.
"Do you not? You dispose of me very neatly." Legolas had a dangerous gleam in his eye, which Alakdaliel didn't seem to notice.
"You are very full of yourself, Legolas Greenleaf. I do as I must, as will you."
"Full of myself, Alakdaliel? I am full of myself!" Legolas moved so quickly toward Alakdaliel that he was suddenly at one side of the room and than the other. One moment Alakdaliel was standing there, with just time to gape at the tall elf sweeping toward her; the next her shoes were dangling a foot off the floor and she was being quite thoroughly kissed. At first she kicked his shins and hammered him with her fists and made sounds of frantic, furious protest, but her kicks slowed and stopped, and then she was holding on to his shoulders and not protesting at all. After a while, Legolas set her back on her feet. She swayed a bit as she straightened her dress, and patted her hair.
"You have no right…" she began in a breathless voice, then stopped to swallow. "I will not be manhandled in that fashion for the whole world to see. I will not!"
"Not the whole world". He replied. "But if they can see, they can hear as well. You have made a place in my heart where I thought there was no room for anything else. You have made flowers grow where I cultivated dust and stones. Remember this on this journey you insist on making. If you die, I will not survive you long." He gave Alakdaliel one of his rare smiles. If it did not soften his face, at least it made it less hard. "And remember also, I am not always so easily commanded, even by a princess." He made an elegant bow; for a moment she thought he actually meant to kneel and kiss her hand. "As you command." He mummered. "So do I obey." It was difficult to tell whether he meant to be mocking or not.
As soon as the door closed behind him, Alakdaliel sank onto the edge of her bed as if letting her knees give way at last. She stared at the door with a pensive frown.
"Poke the meekest dog too often," she quoted. "And he will bite. Not that Legolas is very meek."
WOT!!! YAY! Praise to Robet Jordan. Thought you guys might get a kick outta it…anyway let me know! REVIEW!
Alakdaliel- Archwood Princess parents were murdered, taken up residence in Mirkwood, invitation by the king. Soft, yet outspoken at times. Small demeanor, yet fulfilling presence.
Legolas- (I think we all know who he is).
Daren- Royal Guard to the throne of Mirkwood. Highly respected warrior. Known throughout the regions of his skill and stony face. (Until last chapter, that is, where he made a fool of himself.). A/n: Daren is NOT good, if I haven't gotten the point across enough yet. If you can't tell, he's planning a QUITE evil plot.
Chariste- A Mirkwood noble elf. Not especially pretty, but not totally unfortunate. Has befriended the princess. A/n: PLEASE tell me you've noticed her most recent appearance in my last chapter? And let me add, she was following the likes of Daren…can't be too good if you know what I mean. I'll let you decide. (Use your imagination!)
General Rayon- General to the late army of Archwood. Friends with Alakdaliel. Respected though unseemly quiet.
Any other questions? Just ask!
* * * *
Deceptions and Redemption
Alakdaliel twisted in her seat, trying to see beyond the cloud of bushes that surrounded her. It was a nice afternoon; the warm summer air was cooling off, yet it still held it's radiating heat. Again, the bushes creaked, moving ever so slightly. She now sat on a stone bench, just outside the palace, in the gardens. Squinting her eyes, she searched for the invader.
"Who's there?" She called, and was answered with a quite muffled elf, protruding out of the greenery; hair mussed, and back slumped. "Chariste! What is wrong?" Throwing herself down beside the Princess, her shoulders slumped.
"Nothing. I am fine." Her answer was simple, yet it had not hidden the lie behind them.
"Do not lie to me. I can see it a mile away. Where were you yesterday? I had not seen you after the feast." Alakdaliel's question was simple, but Chariste's eyes were submerged in fear, twitting outwards, looking for an escape.
"I… I was talking to an old friend." Her reply came out stuttered. "I cannot delay it any longer…" Her voice trailed off.
"Delay what? Chariste, you know you can talk of any matters to me. I have never seen you so upset! What is so urgent?" Alakdaliel could not keep the worry out of her voice, sustaining the offhand way she had been trying to prevail into the conversation.
"My friend has brought pressing tidings of Archwood." Chariste seemed to cringe at her next statement. "It seems your sister is still alive, and was not killed in the attack." Alakdaliel felt her heart flutter, as if rising out of her chest.
"How can that be? All remaining survivors were brought to Mirkwood. I do not understand. Surely you were misinformed. Do not toy with my emotions to carelessly." She shook with anger, gripping the stone bench under her till her knuckles grew white.
"I do no such thing! I speak the truth. You must travel to Archwood to retrieve her. You must." Chariste's tone seemed almost desperate, and her eyes bore into Alakdaliel's.
"My sister…I thought her lost. If she truly is alive, I cannot leave her there." She said out loud, thought speaking to herself. "I will inform the King at once." She began to stand, but was stopped abruptly by Chariste, who gripped her shoulder tightly, rising to her full height, nearly a foot taller.
"No. You mustn't. I mean, he would never agree to such an admonition. You must go alone if you wish to reach her successfully. Trust me." Her last words remained in the air, hovering just over Alakdaliel. Embracing her friend, she smiled.
"You have done me the greatest favor I have ever received. When I come home with my sister, there will be a grand ball, you the guest of honor! I will leave at daybreak tomorrow." Alakdaliel could not stop the glee that was arisen in her, knowing full well the treacherous journey she was being forced to make.
"Alakdaliel, if one asks where you are going, tell them you are hunting. You have been learning the bow and arrow, have you not?" Chariste hid the underlying tones in her voice.
"Ah yes! I will. Thank you again, my friend. I do not how I will ever repay you." And with that, she leapt from the gardens, running at full speed to her rooms.
* * * * *
Alakdaliel had spent the restless night fumbling around in her bed, knowing well that she would not catch an once of sleep. Her bags were packed, and weapons ready. Sitting up in her bed, she stretched her stiff muscles, deprived of the rest they needed. She recalled the many people she had been forced to lie to, but under the circumstances, it was necessary. Still, she could not shake the feeling of deception it had awakened in her. Pulling on a cloak, and braiding her hair, she gained her composure, but just as soon lost it, for at that moment the door crashed open so hard it bounced off the wall. Alakdaliel immediately grabbed her bow, but felt a moment of embarrassment when the rebounding door slapped hard against Legolas's outstretched hand. A moment more and she decided to hold on to her bow a while longer. The Prince filled the doorway with his broad shoulders, his face a thunderhead; if his blue eyes could really have given off the firebolts that they threatened, they would have blasted Alakdaliel.
Legolas did not appear to see anything but Alakdaliel. "You let me believe you were going hunting for the day." He rasped at her.
"You may have believed it," She said calmly, "But I never said it."
"Never said it? Never said it! You spoke of leaving today and always linked your leaving with the forests of Mirkwood, and the good hunting it provided. Always! What did you mean me to think?"
"But I never said-"
"By the Valar, Woman!" He roared. It was the first time Alakdaliel had seen him loose his composure. " Do not bandy words with me!" This man had an iron self control, but he was at his breaking point now. Alakdaliel was the one who often let her emotions rage, yet she faced him coolly, head high and eyes serene, hands still on her dark silk cloak.
Legolas took hold of himself with an obvious effort. He appeared as stone faced as ever, as much in control of himself as ever, and Alakdaliel was sure it was only on the surface. "I'd not have known where you were really off to if I had not heard that you ordered a carriage. To take you to a ship bound for Archwood. I do not know why you are going, but you are not skilled enough. Archwood is no place for anyone except a fully trained warrior now. I'll not let you go into that!"
"So," Alakdaliel said lightly. "You question my decisions. Perhaps I've misunderstood Prince's all along. I thought you swore to accept, obey, among other things, for your kingdom. I do the same for mine. Legolas, I do understand you concern, and I am grateful-more than grateful- but we all have our own tasks to perform. I am going; you must resign yourself to the fact."
"Why? For the love of the light, at least tell me why! Archwood!" Legolas trembled- actually trembled! - When he received no answer, he clamped his jaw shut angrily. When he spoke, he was strangely hesitant. "You will need someone to help you at Archwood. Someone to keep an orc from slipping a knife into your back. Archwood is that sort of city last I heard. I could…I could protect you, Alakdaliel." Alakdaliel's eyebrows shot up. He could not be suggesting…he just could not be. She gave no sign that he said anything out of the ordinary.
"Your place is with Mirkwood." Sweat beaded on the Prince's hard face, and he struggled with the words. "I can…I must…Alakdaliel…I …I…"
You WILL remain with Mirkwood." Alakdaliel said sharply, "until it releases you from your duties. You will do as I say. Just count yourself lucky I do not tell you to dance for me." She suppressed a grin.
"Do you not? You dispose of me very neatly." Legolas had a dangerous gleam in his eye, which Alakdaliel didn't seem to notice.
"You are very full of yourself, Legolas Greenleaf. I do as I must, as will you."
"Full of myself, Alakdaliel? I am full of myself!" Legolas moved so quickly toward Alakdaliel that he was suddenly at one side of the room and than the other. One moment Alakdaliel was standing there, with just time to gape at the tall elf sweeping toward her; the next her shoes were dangling a foot off the floor and she was being quite thoroughly kissed. At first she kicked his shins and hammered him with her fists and made sounds of frantic, furious protest, but her kicks slowed and stopped, and then she was holding on to his shoulders and not protesting at all. After a while, Legolas set her back on her feet. She swayed a bit as she straightened her dress, and patted her hair.
"You have no right…" she began in a breathless voice, then stopped to swallow. "I will not be manhandled in that fashion for the whole world to see. I will not!"
"Not the whole world". He replied. "But if they can see, they can hear as well. You have made a place in my heart where I thought there was no room for anything else. You have made flowers grow where I cultivated dust and stones. Remember this on this journey you insist on making. If you die, I will not survive you long." He gave Alakdaliel one of his rare smiles. If it did not soften his face, at least it made it less hard. "And remember also, I am not always so easily commanded, even by a princess." He made an elegant bow; for a moment she thought he actually meant to kneel and kiss her hand. "As you command." He mummered. "So do I obey." It was difficult to tell whether he meant to be mocking or not.
As soon as the door closed behind him, Alakdaliel sank onto the edge of her bed as if letting her knees give way at last. She stared at the door with a pensive frown.
"Poke the meekest dog too often," she quoted. "And he will bite. Not that Legolas is very meek."
WOT!!! YAY! Praise to Robet Jordan. Thought you guys might get a kick outta it…anyway let me know! REVIEW!