Chapter 7

Ziendriel quietly made her way along the path that led to the main hall, trying to enjoy the beauty that surrounded her. It was a lost cause, however, for she could not focus on anything but the emotions that churned within her heart. She did not know the heart could feel so many conflicting emotions at once and found that she did not like the way it tightened at the onslaught.

She thought of the disappointment she felt every time she thought of Legolas and his sudden departure. He had warned her of course of his leave, but she had thought he would have given her word of his return, so she might have had a timeframe of when her lessons would begin. But, no word had come, nor after the first or second week he had left. She felt disappointed, hurt and foolish all in one heartbeat and she desperately wished for a distraction—anything would do—to give her a moment's peace.

As she climbed the steps carved of stone and entered the front hall, she soon discovered that her wish would be granted. The servants that were there in the hall stopped as they spotted her, an attention so sudden that Ziendriel found her steps faltering. A chambermaid that had just come from the staircase off to the left of the arched entry stopped where she was, and upon seeing Ziendriel, bent down to whisper something to maid scrubbing the floor. The maid's hands stilled and her eyes found their way to Ziendriel's.

"'Quel amrun, (Good morning)" she greeted, hesitantly. She nodded her head in acknowledgement, but found no response. Both maids just stared at her, their eyes wide with something akin to awe.

She then turned away and found one of the male servants off to the side of the hall, mirroring the actions of the maids. He stood there, his hands loosely clasped before him, his eyes wide and unblinking at her. "Quel amrun," she tried again, slowly walking towards him. She was disappointed when he merely bowed his head and murmured something unintelligible as she passed.

Ziendriel's brow furrowed in thoughtfulness, contemplating the strange reactions the servants had displayed. She glanced back and frowned when she saw that the three were now huddled together and obviously whispering about her. That is odd, she thought to herself, continuing her way down the hall, I wonder if I have my dress on backwards or a smudge of dirt on my face…again! She slightly shook her head at the thought of those embarrassing moments.

She pushed her thoughts aside as she entered the kitchens, but was once again met by silence. Just moments before, the kitchen had been a bustle of noise: pots and pans clanging, the fires sizzling, the chatter and orders among the servants. All that, however, stopped once the door swung close and everyone turned to stare at her. For a moment, Ziendriel felt a flicker of fear rise in her throat and she swallowed hard. Several pairs of eyes were staring at her with expressions much like those of the maids in the hall, and it was beginning to unnerve her.

Fortunately, Ortho sensed her anxiety and put her at ease with a mighty jolly, "How fares the lovely Lady Ziendriel?" He quickly wiped his hands on the cloth nearest to him and walked over to her, warmly hugging her.

"I am fine, Ortho," she answered, glancing at the others apprehensively. She stared him straight in the eyes and asked, "Naa rashwe? (Is there trouble?)"

The slightly plump elf shook his head. "Nay, lirimaer, (No, lovely one)" he answered, throwing pointed looks to his workers, "Mankoi? (Why?)"

She studied his face carefully, but was interrupted when she realized the noise and activity in the kitchen had returned, although there were some who threw her an occasional glance. She looked back at him, then handed him a roll of parchment. "Velia has a recovering patient in her care," she explained. "She would like these dishes prepared for him and sent down to the House at mealtimes."

Ortho glanced at the list and nodded. "Easy enough," he murmured. He rolled the paper back up and tucked it into his pockets. He saw Ziendriel glancing curiously around. "You have caused quite the stir here in the main hall," he told her, quietly.

She turned confused eyes to him. "Me?" she asked. "I do not understand."

"There has been…talk of you and the prince," he explained, tactfully. "Some of the servants claim they have seen the two of you in the gardens."

At this Ziendriel was shocked. People were talking about her! The thought hit her like a falling boulder, knocking the wind from her. She suddenly felt ill, imagining all the eyes of everyone in the main hall boring into her body. She swooned a bit and grabbed onto the counter to steady herself.

"Milady, are you ill?" Ortho immediately asked, concerned. He rushed forward, but stopped when she vigorously shook her head.

"I-I just need some air," she answered, shakily. She rubbed her head. "I will take my leave now. I thank you, Ortho." She quickly kissed his cheek and just as quickly left the room.

"Poor dear," he murmured, watching her go, "She truly does not do well upfront." He sighed and shook his head before turning back to his work.

Ziendriel made her way through the tunnel that connected to her father's house from the main hall, her breathing quick. She concentrated on moving her feet as fast as she could, thinking of the comfort her room would soon provide. In the lightly lit tunnel so could see the door up ahead that opened up into the front hall of her home and quickened her step.

Stepping onto the hardwood floor, she quietly closed the door behind her. Her encounter in the main house had left her shaken and she did not wish to see to anyone, much less speak to them. She just wanted to lock herself within her bedroom and bury her head under her pillow!

She was just passing the staircase mid point when she hear a voice behind her say, "Ziendriel, may I have a word?" She silently sighed and turned around. Ariel stood at the bottom of the stairs, staring curiously at her older sister.

"Yes, what is it, sister?" Ziendriel asked, meeting her at the bottom step. Truthfully she was in no mood for one of Ariel's emotional and passionate outbursts, which she could see was on the way; the look in her little sister's eyes told her so.

"I am having trouble understanding this," Ariel answered, thoroughly confused, "I-I do not understand how Prince Legolas has chosen to spend time with you instead of I. It completely goes against my logic and leaves me baffled!"

Ziendriel sighed. "I am just as confused by this as you are, Ariel," she told her. "But, I have no answers to give you."

Ariel glanced at her. "Perhaps…Perhaps" she murmured, "you could tell me how you were able to catch his eye?" She looked to her with such hope that Ziendriel had to smother her smile.

Instead, she said aloud, "I truly do not know, dear one. He came upon me while I was in the gardens enjoying its beauty." Her mind wandered back to that day and she smiled at the memory of Legolas scaring her upon his approach.

Ariel stared at her curiously, noticing her smile. Her eyes darkened with anger. "Fine! Do not tell me!" she screamed. "But you are a fool to think that Legolas would have any interest in you!" She brushed past her on the stairs and stomped up to her room.

Ziendriel stared after her, shocked. Never had Ariel spoken such harsh words to her! She hoped in her now aching heart that her sister did not mean any of it, for it would bring her much sorrow to know her sister thought such despairing thoughts of her. She heavily sat down on the bottom step, heaving a great sigh.

It was then that her mother entered the hall and curiously looked at her. "Was that Ariel I heard screaming?" Lilia asked, concerned.

Ziendriel nodded, miserably. "She thinks I am keeping the prince for myself," she explained. "She says I am a fool to think such thoughts. Perhaps she is right," she added with another sigh.

Lilia smiled and went to sit down next to her. "And do you entertain such thoughts, my daughter?" she asked, gently.

Ziendriel furiously shook her head. "No!" she exclaimed, vehemently. "Though I do not confess to know what the bond is between the prince and I, it confuses me! The only word I am able to use to describe it is 'friend', but I don't think it is the right word. But to those boundaries do my thoughts extend; nothing more."

"Perhaps," Lilia murmured, absently smoothing down the skirt of her daughter's dark green dress. Her hands then moved to the strands of black silk that was Ziendriel's hair and carefully unknotted the tangles she found. "Dear, please allow me to run a comb through your hair!" she pleaded, finding more and more tangles.

Ziendriel wanted to scream. She jumped to her feet, the tears of frustration threatening to spill over onto her cheeks. "What is the matter with everyone?" she cried, looking accusingly at her mother. "The servants in the main hall whisper and point at me like I am some sort of object to look upon; Ariel is accusing me of enchanting the prince; Father watches me with the eyes of a hawk; and you are constantly primping me, as if I must impress an important guest due any moment!"

Lilia stood before her daughter. "I apologize, dear one," she said, gently. "I do not mean to upset you." She cupped her chin in her hand and raised her chin so she could see into her troubled eyes.

A lone tear slid down her cheek. "No, it is I who should apologize, Mother," Ziendriel offered, somberly. "I do not know what came over me." When her mother smiled compassionately at her, she felt her spirits rise a bit. Decisively, she announced, "I fear I need more air. Perhaps a walk will clear my head."

Lilia kissed her on the forehead, having to go on tip toe to do so, for Ziendriel had inherited her father's height and was almost a head taller. "Go along, daughter," she encouraged. "I will be here if you need me." She turned and with a last smile, disappeared into the kitchens.

Ziendriel sighed, rubbing her temples as she did so. "I need everyone to stop staring at me, that is what I need!" she muttered, staring at the front door. Resignedly, she walked over and opened it, peeking out. There did not seem to be anyone nearby and she felt her clenched heart relax.

With a deep breath she stepped outside before her mind could tell her feet to run far, far away.