Also, special thanks to that one person who reviewed my last chapter. I don't know who you are, fair stranger, but my heart goes out to you. Thanx!
Disclaimer: I am learning Spanish. Estoy aprendiendo Español. I am only in my third year. Soy sólo en el tercero año. Native speakers, feel free to laugh at my shaky grasp of the language. Españolhablantes, pueden reír de mi mal alcance de la lengua.
~oOo~
Chapter 6: Telperion
I remember when I was about, oh, maybe four years old, and my dad was reading my favorite book, The Hobbit, to me. That was before my little sister came along and my parents became too busy to read to me anymore. I remember when he read the part about the Dwarves being led into King Thranduil's great Hall, bound and blindfolded. You, of course, have been a small child at some point in your life, and you know how they think. At the time I imagined a great, dark, scary cave filled with bats and stalagmites. Thranduil, in my mind, was this sinister, shadowy figure who sent the poor Dwarves (whom I imagined as the Disney sort of Dwarves) into a dank prison to die. Not a nice picture. And, in spite of everything that I had seen up until that point, I think that when I entered the Hall of King Thranduil for real twelve years later, a part of me still expected to step into a dark chamber of horrors. Boy, was I ever in for a surprise.
It was magnificent! The chamber was huge and airy and was filled with an unearthly silver light, not like the golden torchlight that was present everywhere else. The massive pillars holding up the place, so wide that three full-grown men could not have linked hands around it, were carved with thousands of images that covered them from top to bottom. The ceiling was painted to look like the starry night sky. It was like being in a dream. I could have sat down in that place and written a million poems about it, and not gotten tired...
If it hadn't been for the reason I was there in the first place. There, in the midst of it all, was the great king himself, seated magnificently on his throne of carven wood. In his hand he held a carven staff of oak, and on his head he wore a crown of woodland flowers. His hair was golden as the sun, his skin Elvenfair, his eyes strikingly bluer than the sapphires he wore around his neck. The flowing robes he wore were silver and blue and glowed as ice does in the pale light before dawn. He was almost too beautiful to look at, but I found that I couldn't take my eyes off him. Thranduil's face was grim as he looked sternly down on me. His eyes seemed to bore through me, and yet I still couldn't look away.
"Look down, you fool!" Táwarion cried and put his hand on my shoulder, forcing me to my knees. I remembered myself and somehow tore my eyes from the Elven king, bowing my head low and bringing my gaze to the floor below me. "Forgive this one, Your Majesty," I heard Táwarion sneer. "She is of the race of Men and is, therefore, quite slow." Why that little...
"My eyes work perfectly, Táwarion. I need not for you to point out what I can see most plainly." The voice was noble and rich, and I found myself wishing that I could hear more of it. I got my wish, though I later regretted it. "Arise, child, and let me have a good look at you," he said.
I did so immediately. The king turned to Táwarion and said, "Leave us now." The Elf didn't look very happy, but bowed low anyways and turned to leave, giving me a nasty look as he did. Ha, ha! Anyways, I then looked up at the Elven king.
Thranduil's eyes were amazing. Again, it felt as if they were trying to pierce through me, to my very soul. Then he said, "Tell me, what is your name?"
I swallowed to get the lump out of my throat. "E-elizabeth, your highness."
"Elizabeth..." he repeated. "A strange name, indeed. What is it, Elizabeth, that brought you, a mere girl, to trespass in my kingdom? I do not take such offenses lightly."
As much of a big-mouthed talker I am, I found it impossibly difficult to speak. I did my best, though. "Please, majesty, you must believe me. I-"
He cut me off harshly. "I will be the judge of what I must and must not do, girl!" Then he calmed down a bit and said, "Continue."
"I-I was not trespassing in your realm. I swear on my life that this is true!" I stammered.
"It will be your life if I find you are lying." He leaned forward slightly and narrowed his eyes. "You insist that you were not, but how can this be?" the Elven king inquired. "Three of my most skilled warriors found you with a band of demon-worshippers. An Elf, one of my own subjects, was dead, her heart cut out. But you were alive." I cringed, the painful memory coming back to me. The king paused a moment before continuing. "My warriors believe that you were a victim of sorts, for it was obvious that you were to be the next sacrifice to their terrible demon-god. However, I think it not. It is true that their intent was so sacrifice you, but they would not likely use a stranger. It is my thought that you are one of their women."
Whaaaat?! He thought I was one of those blue crazies?! Uh-uh. "I beg your pardon, your majesty, but was the murdered Elf another of their consorts?" I immediately regretted saying it, because at that moment Thranduil's eyes became aflame with rage.
"My people have long been subject to the cruelty of Men, who are envious and will stop and nothing to satisfy their lust for power!!" he bellowed. "I need not speculate as to why they would destroy the life on an innocent Elf!!" He rose from his throne and pointed down at me accusingly. "But why would they kill one of their own people unless to gain more for themselves?! You know about them, now tell me what you know!!"
A strange courage came from somewhere in my chest, and I could feel my heart beating against my locket; it gave me strength to feel it. I stood tall as I could and lifted my chin defiantly. "I don't know anything about them!" I exclaimed. "I don't know how I got here and I don't know why they wanted my life and I don't know what they were! But I do know that they weren't human at all, as you believe, and I'm sorry if that's not good enough for you but that's all I've got!!"
I don't think I've ever seen anyone look so pissed as Thranduil did at that point. "Then where are you from, if you know so very little about your would-be killers?!"
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you!"
"That is for me to decide!!"
"Fine!" I said. I was being so stupid at that point, I can't even believe it. "I come from a place called America, which you've never heard of. I live in the state of Vermont, in a little out-of-the-way town that isn't even on the map, called Hague. My house is on the edge of some woods, and I have to walk about a mile through them every day to get to school. I don't know how I got from there to here, but in my world Middle Earth is just a made-up place in a story, and you don't even exist!!" Man, it felt good to get that all off of my chest. It didn't help the Elven king's mood much, though.
"Preposterous!" he exclaimed angrily. "Ilúvatar made but one world, Arda, and there is no land of America in it!"
"How do you know?!" I shot back. "Did he tell you?!"
He was silent for a moment as he glared at me with a black rage. I really wasn't expecting to live much longer, and I probably wouldn't have if my guardian angel hadn't interceded on my behalf just then. For, just as Thranduil opened his mouth to speak again, there was a loud cry at the other end of the Hall and a servant came rushing in. "Your majesty!" he said hurriedly.
"What is it?!" Thranduil cried, turning on the servant in his anger.
"Forgive me, your majesty, but I was sent to inform you that one of the hunting parties has returned. And... they have taken a prisoner!"
Thranduil sank wearily to his throne again and brought his fingers up to his temple. "Good... At least some progress has been made in this issue." He turned to me with eyes of ice. "The captive will be able to identify you as one of the murderers, and then nothing you can say will save you from my wrath." A cold shiver ran down my spine at his words.
"Here they come!" the servant exclaimed, and I turned my head to look at the open doorway, though I couldn't see or hear anyone coming. Is their hearing that good?! I wondered. Presently I was able to hear a single set of footsteps approaching, which confused me for a moment. Then I remembered that Elves don't make any noise when they're walking, and that the footsteps must belong to the more noisy captive. The footsteps, which sounded as though the person was being half-dragged, grew louder, and then a group of four Elves and their bound-and-blindfolded captive turned the corner of the hallway and stepped into the great Hall. Three of them I recognized as my rescuers, but I didn't recall ever seeing the fourth one. He was beautiful, though! Much more so than any of the others, even Thranduil. His hair was the same gold that you see in winter sunsets, and it shone more brightly than the stars. His eyes were a deep blue and they sparkled with happiness. In fact, every last inch of the Elf, from head to toe, seemed to reverberate with life. I knew who he was immediately.
"Hail, my lord!" he said to Thranduil.
"Hail, my son. I see that your hunt was successful," the king responded, his eyes softening slightly with fondness as he spoke.
Legolas nodded. "Aye, it was indeed." He turned to the other Elves in the hunting party and motioned slightly with his head. They brought the prisoner, one of the blue-robed women, forward. She was bent over with exhaustion and covered in filth, and her hair was matted. She looked as if she had been hiding in the woods for several days... which she, um, had been (duuuuh). In spite of myself, I found myself feeling sorry for her. "This one," Legolas started, "was trying to hide in a tree, but she was so noisy that we could hear her from quite a ways off. There was no sign of the others, though."
"Very well, then," Thranduil said. "Unbind her and remove the blindfold. She will not need them here."
Legolas and his partners complied, and as soon as they stopped holding her, the prisoner fell to her knees exhaustedly. Legolas looked at her with pity for a moment, and then he turned and seemed to notice me for the first time. "Ah!" he exclaimed. "So the sleeping one has finally awakened!"
"Yes," Thranduil responded coldly. "I believe the girl is associated with the killers, and I was hoping that your captive would be able to shed some light on this situation."
His son looked taken aback. "This one?!" he asked incredulously. "She is but a girl!"
"Do not allow yourself to be fooled by appearances, my son," Thranduil warned. "You forget, I have seen the passing of many more years than you have, and I have seen many an innocent and beautiful thing corrupted by evil. You know not the desires of this girl's heart." It was a beautiful statement, the way he said it, and I would have been impressed if it wasn't me he was talking about.
"But Father, her eyes do not betray evil intent; only sorrow and fright, and a grim determination, do I see in her gaze."
Thranduil looked at his son fondly. "You have your mother's eyes, Legolas. She could see through to the very heart of a person. But," he said, frowning now, "not all gifts are flawless. We must determine her guilt or innocence, and take the necessary steps upon making that determination."
"I can attest to her innocence!" I whipped around. The person who had spoken was the Elf who had held me the other night, and I felt the butterflies leap in my stomach as I beheld him. Although he wasn't amazingly beautiful like Legolas or Thranduil, his near-black hair and berry-brown eyes lent him a dark handsomeness. Although I couldn't understand why, I felt safe with him there.
Thranduil sighed. "You would also stand up for this mortal, Telperion? What cause would drive the second-best archer in all of Greenwood to jump to the defense of such a character?" Telperion? As in the tree? Interesting...
He stood up straight. "'Twould be wrong of me not to, majesty. I was there that night in the clearing. I was one of the three that drove off the demon-god that Earemë was sacrificed to." The pain in his voice almost brought tears to my eyes. "They would have killed this girl, too, had my companions and I not driven them off. She had been beaten savagely almost to the point of death; if not for the combined healing skills of Neume and Veon, she most probably would not have lived." Had I really been that bad off? Damn. I owed those two a lot, then.
Telperion continued. "I know of your opinion in this matter, Sire, for you have expressed it to me. But every one of my instincts, every last fiber of my being is screaming that this mortal, this girl, is innocent." I was touched. No one had ever spoken so eloquently on my behalf. Well, maybe Alec... but the memory was too painful. I touched my locket for reassurance. Telperion saw me do so and his eyes softened with sadness. My eyes met his for a moment; there was an expression there that I couldn't read, and it bugged me. Then I tore my gaze from his and turned around to face the Elven king.
Thranduil was nodding slowly. "Well said, Telperion," he said. "Very well. We will see what the captive has to say in this matter." At first I thought he meant me, but then I remembered the woman in blue. There was a gasp that came from one of the Elves, and I looked to see what had happened.
She was gone.
~oOo~
AN: I know you have a life and a busy schedule, but could you please review? It would make me so happy. Thank you.