Chapter Eight
Ëmara could not be wrong in her guessing- she really need not have guessed at all, for she knew that Leomë's coming would herald the end of her stay in Mirkwood, and in all other elven lands for that matter. Their bargain long ago had been for his silence in return for her help, but now they had grown independent of each other. Ëmara knew that her attack against him would be countered swiftly; his silence was no longer something she could count upon. The timing was earlier than she had hoped, but no less than she had expected.
Upon the day of Leomë's arrival in Mirkwood, none were expecting him, save the watchful eyes of Ëmara. Worn out and tattered looking he rode in upon a half-starved mare, barely alive himself. Her cage had worked perhaps too well; she hadn't meant to cut him off from sufficient food or water supplies. Leomë was rushed to the healing house where he refused to rest, chanting over and over that he "must talk with the King."
'So be it.' Leomë's ravings were all Ëmara needed to hear to assure herself that he really meant to address the courts and expose her long kept secret. She still had many things to prepare.
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"Legolas?" Yavanna had noticed a brooding silence about her future husband ever since the night of the ball. She had found him wandering far away from the festivities, amongst the paths of the gardens; obviously thinking about something that he would not speak with her about. Even as she now spoke, he seemed not to hear her words as he continued to watch out of his window at the comings and goings in the streets below his balcony.
"Legolas!" He snapped his head around, his clear blue eyes wide open with inquisitive curiosity.
"Yes Yavanna?" Now that she had summoned the strength to speak, she found her words failing as she swallowed and began to talk at almost a whisper:
"You…you seem to be distracted My Lord. Ever since the dance you seem…distant." This time, Legolas did nothing to assuage her fears as he merely nodded absentmindedly and returned his eyes to the window.
"Have you heard anything I have said?…Legolas!" Once again he turned to her, his eyes dull with thoughts and slight aggravation lacing his voice.
"What?!" His voice's harshness startled her to tears as she shook her head and excused herself from his presence. Legolas stood up to follow her, inwardly cursing himself for being so harsh with her.
'These thoughts of Ëmara are becoming a mere source of aggravation! I have forgotten my duties to my love as well as to my life.' He called out to Yavanna, only to be met with silence as he assumed she must have been too upset to hear his call. Just as he was about to leave his room in pursuit of Yavanna, there suddenly appeared a vassal of the King.
"Your Father bids your presence now- the elf Leomë has asked that all members of the court be present while he addresses King Thranduil." Legolas sighed despondently as his eyes followed the hallway towards Yavanna's quarters before nodding and following the messenger into the Great Hall.
When Legolas arrived he found the hall already filled with many elves and emissaries from all corners of the forest. The room was thick with the buzz of voices and the shifting of uncomfortable feet, noises which were uncommon, to say the least, of the court of King Thranduil. Legolas cut his way through the crowds and took his place at the side of his father, who looked particularly upset today.
"What is it Father?" Thranduil had hardly time to sigh before a flourish of trumpets announced the entrance of Lord Leomë. An ominous hush fell over the crowd as the elf entered and made his way towards the throne.
'He looks rather different from Ëmara, one would almost think they were not related. See how young he looks as well- and he is the eldest of the two!' Legolas' mind raced as Leomë approached and knelt at the feet of Thranduil. When he was bidden to rise, the turned to face the host while keeping his body respectfully slanted towards the King.
"I address you as a member of the elven race, an ambassador for no kingdom, for no kingdom has heard what I now share with you. You have in your midst…an imposter!" The murmurs started again with a fury, rising to shouting voices as questions were thrown at Leomë.
"What do you mean…who is the imposter…why have you come here…?" Thranduil raised his hand and commanded silence as Leomë continued to speak.
"There is one among you…the Lady Ëmara, who dwells in darkness." At this Thranduil himself could not quiet the tumult as nearly everyone began to shout and fill the room with voices.
Suddenly, from the entrance to the hall came a voice with chilling calmness, which silenced the entire room in an instant. There Ëmara stood, clad in a long dark blue dress, her gray eyes erupting with flames and strength as she flipped her hand towards Leomë.
"Do continue, dear brother…you have such marvelous theatrics."
"I am no brother of yours!" He spat out; Ëmara did not flinch. "I was once sworn to be as a brother would be to a sister, but your darkness has consumed even your caring for me! Lady Ëmara," Leomë pointed an accusatory finger at her, "is no elf! She was created at the hands of Morgoth himself during the time of the First Age!"
"Impossible! You shall pay for this slander!" Legolas stood up, enraged at Leomë as he motioned for the guards to apprehend him. "Never have such wicked lies before been spun! You will be punished and shall beg the forgiveness of the Lady Ëmara!"
Four guards rounded Leomë as his eyes widened like a wild animal's when caught in a trap.
"I speak only the truth My Lord! Ask the Lady Ëmara if all I have said is true!" Legolas fearfully turned his eyes to Ëmara and the sight nearly sickened him. She still stood stoic in the entryway but her eyes were now dropped with shame and sadness. Time slowed to a crawl as her deep gray eyes lifted to his and she confessed the truth of her past in an instant. His breath let out in a rush as he felt his legs would no longer support him and he heaped into his chair. Thranduil watched his son with wide-eyed astonishment, his mind working quickly beneath his furrowed brow as Legolas lapsed into silence.
"Continue Leomë." Ëmara spoke as she began to approach where Leomë now stood, held in place by two of the guards. Leomë looked up at her with momentary fear as she seemed to raise her hands to strike with her powers when instead, she had merely meant to reach out to him. She recognized the fear in his eyes and it struck her harshly to the heart.
"The Lady Ëmara escaped from Belirand upon its destruction and found herself under the care of my father. Upon his passing he elicited a single promise from her- that she care for me. When I learned of her…maker and of her powers, I was determined to help her…she seemed so kind at the time. Little did I know of her treachery! We came to the fair realm of Lorien where she married Lord Dîniath, though not for love, I can imagine." Here Ëmara could bear no more insult and spoke out with anger:
"I did love him! I loved Dîniath more than anyone knew. I did love him! You suppose me to be cruel and indifferent to the feelings of others; you would make me into a sorceress who uses others without regard for their lives nor their hearts! How cruel you are to one who was so kind to you!" Tears of hot indignation streamed through her speech as she turned her eyes from Leomë to the ground, too enraged to speak any further.
'That he should have the audacity to suppose my love for Dîniath was not real! I loved him so very much…but why should they believe? The darkness of my breeding shows in the lines of my face…surely they have noticed it and therefore believe me not.' She brought her sad gray eyes back up to Leomë and then to King Thranduil, who seemed to be lost in thought for a few moments before he spoke in the silence of the room.
"Lady Ëmara…how do you plead to the charges of the Lord Leomë?" Without a momentary regard, she straightened her shoulders and turned towards the host, now pale with fear and trembling under the weight of her stare.
"I am as Leomë says. Though there is little to substantiate it, I would have you believe that I brought no harm to this forest. I would never have hurt you…but now I find I must take me leave, mine is a welcome long worn out." At this the people, who had once pressed towards the front of the hall to hear all that was said, began to move quickly towards the doors leading out into the palace halls, fearful of the powers of Ëmara.
As for Legolas, a spectator to events his mind still could not bear to grasp, he stood with his father and passed in front of Ëmara, neither turning his head nor removing his eyes from their straightforward stare.
'And so it is decided, a foolish folly of romantic inclination mercifully lost in a moment upon the words spoken by Lord Leomë. That I ever found that loathsome creature handsome!' Even as his mind spoke these bitter words, Legolas was having a difficult time persuading his heart to accept them. 'It too shall pass. When I marry Lady Yavanna, whom I dearly adore, all thoughts of Ëmara shall have died in my heart. To think I came so near to ruining my happiness!'