***
Kathryn opened her eyes. All she saw was a high white ceiling, framed with elaborately carved and gilded wood. She lay there in a daze, watching the light play across her vision, trying to remember where she was.
"Where shall I find Elrond, I wonder." She mused aloud.
"How about seeking old friends first?" A soft but rough voice asked quietly. Her first instinct was to draw her blanket up about her, but then she realised who it was.
"Estel?" She asked, anticipation forcing her to whisper.
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost;" She could feel his breathe on her cheek.
Recognising the verse, she chanted with him, "The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not touched by the frost." He chuckled. "Estel!" She slid out of bed. Her friend lifted her up in a tight hug and spun her round. Estel still had a rugged look to him, and he smelt of outdoors, acquired from all his wandering. Of course the verses applied to him, the same hobbit that had spoken with awe of Rivendell had composed the lines for him. His long, straggling brown hair had been quickly combed. Ten years had changed him, but this meeting lifted the cares and burdens from them for now. He wore more wisdom upon his brow; he seemed to have more confidence in his abilities than before. Once again Kathryn found the sadness of lost Númenor in his keen grey eyes. And now she realised how much she had missed his frequent visits to her home in Angmar. "How did you know I was here?"
"Your arrival has not gone unnoticed! Let's just say an enraged Prince of Mirkwood told me." He smiled.
"How does a prince know of me?" Kathryn asked, puzzled.
"I thought you were on very close terms with him. I heard you challenged him to a fight yester eve."
"Legolas is a prince? He challenged me the pompous elf!"
Estel was grinning now, obviously amused by the event of last night. "What did he say when he lost?"
Kathryn sighed, casting her eyes downwards; "I lost if you must know." But then she met his gaze again. "I was weary. His anger was caused by the challenge I put upon his swordsmanship. I know I could have won. I know I could have fought better!"
"You lost?" Estel's eyes flitted to the wound in her shoulder. "What happened? Are you hurt badly?" Instead of waiting for an answer, he sat her down on the bed, examining the gash. The burning died down from his cooling touch to small flickers of pain. "You should have had this dressed you know. He almost sheared a muscle. Nonetheless, it would be best if you leave swords alone for a while, I would not risk harming yourself further, though you seem to be able to do it all be yourself anyway."
Kathryn's eyes flashed at the remark but when she looked up she saw a teasing sparkle in his eyes. "All right," She sighed again, "I will do as you ask. Now wait here while I get dressed. Turn around." Estel rolled his eyes and turned his back to her.
"Legolas's father, Thranduil, what lands does he rule?" She asked, pulling off her slip.
"Mirkwood. East of the Misty Mountains, beyond the East banks of the Great River. His elves are sometimes the only light in the darkness of those trees. Many dark things dwell there. Only recently an evil in the South of it has been banished. His residence was Dol Guldûr, blackness still abides there."
"Have you been there?" She pulled a clean slip on.
"I have wandered through many lands near and far, and yes, Mirkwood has been one of them. Some of the paths there are perilous. Your father, Taurrandir, took me there the first time I think. But let us speak of happier things."
Kathryn paused, looking through one of the open arches in her high room, imagining faraway lands. "I wish I could journey to the places you have been. Even the perilous, dark roads."
Estel straightened, alert, and turned to face her, ignoring the fact she was only half dressed. "Do you?" He stepped towards her, a shadow of pain over his eyes. "Do you?" he repeated, stepping even closer. "Could you cope with the horrors I have seen, that threaten to consume me with terror, or worse, madness? Could you survive the darkest of paths in Mordor, without perishing from blackest despair? Sometimes it's almost unbearable. And worse, there are far worse things than dying. I have nightmares of the black places, of the enemies I have had to behold. Those places you speak wondrously of." He bowed his head, and sat down.
"But Estel, do you not consider the wonders you do behold, the magic you encounter, the unveiled beauty?" She asked earnestly, sitting beside him.
"The only beauty I need is right here, in you, in Rivendell. Here my heart abides when I wander far."
"But is the price not worth the freedom you have?"
Head buried in hands, he whispered, "I do not know. When I get home I always ask myself 'Why do I leave this place of peace?' All I need is here - adventure, pain - they are nothing in this tranquillity. But I always leave; something always calls me back into the wilderness. When I look at you, I wonder what could tear me away from my friends and family. It is not the call of adventure often told of in stories. Nay, anyone called as such returns within a month of rain and mud. Nay, what makes me leave is necessity, if I don't go who else will protect this peace and happiness? Someone else will have to suffer when it should have been me." He stopped as if just realising her presence. "Ironic isn't it? I have to leave this place in order to keep it."
She put an arm around him, "I'm sorry, Estel, but your words do not change my resolve. I believe the price is right. Horrors balancing the wonders. Long have I yearned to journey from my home in the ruins of Angmar. Nothing holds me back now. My parents are dead." She said bitterly. "I began my journey already by travelling to Rivendell, where all roads begin - even yours."
Estel cried out, grasping her shoulders. "No! Dear Kathryn, no! I fight for you to live! Do not journey to places where I cannot protect you!" The first tear in years rolled own his cheek. "Please!"
"It is my decision, Estel. Would you take away my right to make choices just to protect me?"
"If it stops you getting killed."
Her chin up in defiance, she spoke, "I may not have the blood of Númenor flowing through my veins, but I can survive on my own as you do."
"I have suffered so you would not suffer." His steel grey eyes cut at her. But she had decided.
"Would you shield me, keep me blind from the whole world like a child, Estel? What would happen if evil came to this place and I wasn't prepared?" Estel's grip on her shoulder tightened.
"I will not let you do this." He said in a tight voice.
Closing her eyes, bracing herself, she slowed her breathing. "I understand what you are saying. But listen to me! It is not your decision."
Estel stood up and looked down into her eyes, his face in endless agony. Then he turned and left the room, saying no further word.
Kathryn put her head in her hands and wept.
Kathryn opened her eyes. All she saw was a high white ceiling, framed with elaborately carved and gilded wood. She lay there in a daze, watching the light play across her vision, trying to remember where she was.
"Where shall I find Elrond, I wonder." She mused aloud.
"How about seeking old friends first?" A soft but rough voice asked quietly. Her first instinct was to draw her blanket up about her, but then she realised who it was.
"Estel?" She asked, anticipation forcing her to whisper.
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost;" She could feel his breathe on her cheek.
Recognising the verse, she chanted with him, "The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not touched by the frost." He chuckled. "Estel!" She slid out of bed. Her friend lifted her up in a tight hug and spun her round. Estel still had a rugged look to him, and he smelt of outdoors, acquired from all his wandering. Of course the verses applied to him, the same hobbit that had spoken with awe of Rivendell had composed the lines for him. His long, straggling brown hair had been quickly combed. Ten years had changed him, but this meeting lifted the cares and burdens from them for now. He wore more wisdom upon his brow; he seemed to have more confidence in his abilities than before. Once again Kathryn found the sadness of lost Númenor in his keen grey eyes. And now she realised how much she had missed his frequent visits to her home in Angmar. "How did you know I was here?"
"Your arrival has not gone unnoticed! Let's just say an enraged Prince of Mirkwood told me." He smiled.
"How does a prince know of me?" Kathryn asked, puzzled.
"I thought you were on very close terms with him. I heard you challenged him to a fight yester eve."
"Legolas is a prince? He challenged me the pompous elf!"
Estel was grinning now, obviously amused by the event of last night. "What did he say when he lost?"
Kathryn sighed, casting her eyes downwards; "I lost if you must know." But then she met his gaze again. "I was weary. His anger was caused by the challenge I put upon his swordsmanship. I know I could have won. I know I could have fought better!"
"You lost?" Estel's eyes flitted to the wound in her shoulder. "What happened? Are you hurt badly?" Instead of waiting for an answer, he sat her down on the bed, examining the gash. The burning died down from his cooling touch to small flickers of pain. "You should have had this dressed you know. He almost sheared a muscle. Nonetheless, it would be best if you leave swords alone for a while, I would not risk harming yourself further, though you seem to be able to do it all be yourself anyway."
Kathryn's eyes flashed at the remark but when she looked up she saw a teasing sparkle in his eyes. "All right," She sighed again, "I will do as you ask. Now wait here while I get dressed. Turn around." Estel rolled his eyes and turned his back to her.
"Legolas's father, Thranduil, what lands does he rule?" She asked, pulling off her slip.
"Mirkwood. East of the Misty Mountains, beyond the East banks of the Great River. His elves are sometimes the only light in the darkness of those trees. Many dark things dwell there. Only recently an evil in the South of it has been banished. His residence was Dol Guldûr, blackness still abides there."
"Have you been there?" She pulled a clean slip on.
"I have wandered through many lands near and far, and yes, Mirkwood has been one of them. Some of the paths there are perilous. Your father, Taurrandir, took me there the first time I think. But let us speak of happier things."
Kathryn paused, looking through one of the open arches in her high room, imagining faraway lands. "I wish I could journey to the places you have been. Even the perilous, dark roads."
Estel straightened, alert, and turned to face her, ignoring the fact she was only half dressed. "Do you?" He stepped towards her, a shadow of pain over his eyes. "Do you?" he repeated, stepping even closer. "Could you cope with the horrors I have seen, that threaten to consume me with terror, or worse, madness? Could you survive the darkest of paths in Mordor, without perishing from blackest despair? Sometimes it's almost unbearable. And worse, there are far worse things than dying. I have nightmares of the black places, of the enemies I have had to behold. Those places you speak wondrously of." He bowed his head, and sat down.
"But Estel, do you not consider the wonders you do behold, the magic you encounter, the unveiled beauty?" She asked earnestly, sitting beside him.
"The only beauty I need is right here, in you, in Rivendell. Here my heart abides when I wander far."
"But is the price not worth the freedom you have?"
Head buried in hands, he whispered, "I do not know. When I get home I always ask myself 'Why do I leave this place of peace?' All I need is here - adventure, pain - they are nothing in this tranquillity. But I always leave; something always calls me back into the wilderness. When I look at you, I wonder what could tear me away from my friends and family. It is not the call of adventure often told of in stories. Nay, anyone called as such returns within a month of rain and mud. Nay, what makes me leave is necessity, if I don't go who else will protect this peace and happiness? Someone else will have to suffer when it should have been me." He stopped as if just realising her presence. "Ironic isn't it? I have to leave this place in order to keep it."
She put an arm around him, "I'm sorry, Estel, but your words do not change my resolve. I believe the price is right. Horrors balancing the wonders. Long have I yearned to journey from my home in the ruins of Angmar. Nothing holds me back now. My parents are dead." She said bitterly. "I began my journey already by travelling to Rivendell, where all roads begin - even yours."
Estel cried out, grasping her shoulders. "No! Dear Kathryn, no! I fight for you to live! Do not journey to places where I cannot protect you!" The first tear in years rolled own his cheek. "Please!"
"It is my decision, Estel. Would you take away my right to make choices just to protect me?"
"If it stops you getting killed."
Her chin up in defiance, she spoke, "I may not have the blood of Númenor flowing through my veins, but I can survive on my own as you do."
"I have suffered so you would not suffer." His steel grey eyes cut at her. But she had decided.
"Would you shield me, keep me blind from the whole world like a child, Estel? What would happen if evil came to this place and I wasn't prepared?" Estel's grip on her shoulder tightened.
"I will not let you do this." He said in a tight voice.
Closing her eyes, bracing herself, she slowed her breathing. "I understand what you are saying. But listen to me! It is not your decision."
Estel stood up and looked down into her eyes, his face in endless agony. Then he turned and left the room, saying no further word.
Kathryn put her head in her hands and wept.