Chapter Three
"Please…just tell us your name." King Thranduil and the head of the healers, Manle, had been trying unsuccessfully for nearly three days to persuade the silent stranger into speaking. Their efforts had proved fruitless and frustrating, therefore, they once again left her in the care of Yavanna, bidding her to tell them immediately if she spoke or made any attempts to communicate.
Yavanna spoke with the stranger, talking of anything she could think to say as she mused about Legolas and her upcoming wedding.
"Of course, without your speaking I have no way of knowing if you hear my words, I would like to think you do. I have but little time left with you tonight, I am to meet Legolas tonight for dinner. Here, the sun has just crested the frame of the lowest window…I must take my leave…"
"Ëmara…" Yavanna started and quickly leaned forward over the woman, who parted her pale lips for a second time and sighed in a whisper-like voice:
"My name is Ëmara." Yavanna could hardly contain her excitement, and forgetting the bidding of King Thranduil and Manle, pulled a chair next to Ëmara's bed and spoke with hardly constrainable excitement.
"Ëmara, a beautiful name…can you tell me where you are from?" Ëmara breathed in slowly, the raspy sound of air passing through her parched throat spurred Yavanna to grasping a pitcher of water and offering it to the lady who drank hungrily before sighing with contentment and replying:
"From Lorien…Lorien…Leomë…Dîniath…" Ëmara began to lapse into semi-consciousness again as her words slurred and her eyes rolled back into her head frightening Yavanna terribly. She reached out and picked up Ëmara's wrist, attempting to feel her heart beat. No sooner had her fingertips grazed the dark flesh than a force she could not explain tossed her arm violently away from Ëmara and nearly forced her shoulder out of joint. Yavanna did not see the flick of Ëmara's wrist, nor the intense eyes that were watching her actions just beneath their half-closed eyelids.
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"I speak the truth My Lord. A force I could not see threw my hand away…as though something did not want me to touch her skin." Thranduil sighed and gave Yavanna a disapproving before running his eyes over Ëmara, who was sleeping soundly.
"That you did not send for me instantly upon her awakening upsets me greatly…however, I am interested in what you learned from her. An ancient name…Ëmara, one that I have not heard in many years, its origins rest in Belirand and the days before the sundering of elves' first home. The forest of Lorien confuses me though, she does not look as though she belongs to that fair realm but we shall know soon enough when my emissaries return. I am asking that Manle watch her personally from now on." Yavanna raised her sorrowful eyes to Thranduil who quickly reassured her.
"I am not displeased with you Yavanna. There are many other things however, that you should have your mind upon, such as your forthcoming marriage. Speaking of which, here comes my son now…" Legolas was indeed approaching, his countenance however, was set and stern as he passed Yavanna without a word and walked up to his father.
"We have just received word that this elf did in fact come from the forests of Lorien. Her brother, Leomë, is but three days from here and approaching rapidly to bring her back home." Here he paused as his eyes quickly scanned those around him, noticing that all were hanging on his words with breathless attention. Dropping his voice so only his father could hear he annexed a warning that Leomë had given them regarding his sister.
"He said that if she should awake, none should try to physically force her to do anything, that…that the results could be catastrophic." Thranduil's eyebrow raised in confusion as Legolas shrugged his shoulders, neither truly understanding the warning but heeding it nonetheless. Just as Legolas had turned to acknowledge Yavanna his eyes caught sight of Ëmara's as she now sat completely awake and yet forgotten in the confusion of Legolas' arrival. For a fleeting moment he glimpsed immeasurable depth in her gray eyes mixed with a power that sent a chill into the core of his body. She was staring directly at him and to his imagination he felt she was seeing through him somehow. The moment was quickly lost as Manle noticed her and the flat matte façade was pulled over her eyes, shutting the windows Legolas had but glimpsed into.
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Yavanna had been silent all throughout dinner; Legolas' brooding was spreading even to her as the sharp clinking of utensils against glass was the only sound in the empty chamber. She watched his eyes intently as they seemed to be traveling many miles away from where they now sat.
"That elf…Ëmara," 'So that is what this is all about.' She thought, noticing that his eyes still seemed to be on thoughts far off. "Did she say anything besides those four names? Nothing about her past or her wanderings?" Yavanna shook her head and tentatively ventured:
"Why do you allow her to trouble your thoughts?" He looked up at her and tried unsuccessfully to clear his mind of Ëmara and focus solely on his fiancé as he forced a smile.
"She is not troubling my thoughts. Have you finished your wedding dress yet?" Yavanna allowed his weak subject change to pass as she happily replied that she would show him on the morrow. The dinner ended amiably as they parted at Yavanna's door, Legolas' eyes still shadowed with thoughts he did not share with her as he absentmindedly kissed her cheek goodnight and made his way towards the healing house.