Chapter 19

            Elyse sat quietly at the window seat of her bedroom, concentrating on her sewing. It was the only thing that helped her relax these days, all things considering. There was just something about the fluidity of the silver needle darting in and out of the silk that she found mesmerizing. She loved sewing in the sunlight, causing its rays to bounce off the smooth silver of the needle. She worked quickly, just like her mother had taught her, and often gloated about her swiftness and obvious gift at the task. Besides, it showed off her slender fingers.

            Relaxation had been hard to come by following the days of King Thranduil's ball. She had thought that her intentional slip of the truth to Ziendriel would have cleared her path to Legolas; instead it had inhibited it even more. Somehow, and she did not know how exactly, Ziendriel had caused the prince to truly care for her. It was obvious in the way he moped around, always frowning, always muttering to himself. It infuriated her to know that all of his thoughts were focused on Ziendriel, preventing him from everything else around him.

            What infuriated her more was the fact that the maiden that had beaten her, that had stolen the heart of the prince from within her grasp, was Ziendriel. For the life of her, Elyse could not understand what Legolas could possibly see in her! She was not beautiful as she, nor would she ever be; she spent most of her time with the sick and ailing; and she read books, by the Valar! Books! Touching centuries old paper covered in dust and grime….Elyse shuddered.

            "A spell," Elyse muttered, setting down her sewing, "It must be a spell! She spent most of her years at Rivendell; she must have learned something from the Elders there! She knows her herbs very well…perhaps Lord Elrond has shown her how to make a love potion." She nodded to herself, unaware of how idiotic her ranting sounded. "Yes," she told herself, "It must be a love potion; what else could it be?"

            In the back of her mind, the voice of logic spoke quietly. Perhaps there is more to Ziendriel than you could possibly understand, it told her, More than you see, but refuse to acknowledge.

            Elyse harrumphed. "Not likely," she muttered, "I see nothing special about her and I am not jealous, if that is what you are implying." She picked up her sewing once again and began to move the needle quickly.

            A sudden knock sounded on her bedroom door and a frown appeared on her face. "Yes, what is?" she demanded, irritated.

            The door opened and in stepped her maidservant Rya. She quickly curtsied. "This has just arrived, milady," she announced, handing her a roll of parchment, "From one of the prince's couriers."

            At the mention of Legolas, Elyse straightened up. "A message from the prince?" she asked. Rya nodded. "For me?" she continued, clearly shocked.

            Rya hid her smile. It was a rare occasion to see Lady Elyse caught off her guard. "Yes, milady," she answered.

            Elyse pondered this for a moment, then rudely snatched the scroll out of the servant's hand. "You may leave now," she barked.

            Rya nodded, quickly curtsied, then left the room. Elyse paid her departure no heed. Instead, her hands quickly broke through the seal of the prince and hurriedly unrolled the paper. Her eyes greedily read the message printed. Her eyes grew wider and wider as she read each word, her mouth slightly gaping.

            At last, her eyes broke from the paper, a huge grin growing on her face. Her body literally shook from head to toe as she stumbled to her bed. With a scream of pure delight that no doubt startled her mother downstairs in the sitting room, Elyse collapsed on her bed in a fit of giggles.

            Tiri grinned as she heard Lady Elyse's scream drift out from the open window above her. Moments later, she heard the mother burst into the room, demanding to know what was going on. The maiden's answer was inaudible, her screams and laughter making it hard to understand.

            Tiri nodded to herself. Mistress will be pleased to know that the first part of her plan is now in motion, she thought, quickly running to the safety of the shadows that the forest provided. She had been warned to do nothing to cause suspicion, nor provoke the anger of her mistress. The forest had many shadows that could conceal her from prying eyes.

            Personally, she thought that the cloak of night made for a better environment for acts such as spying and manipulating; she rather liked the excitement that accompanied her as she met with her mistress in the dead of the night to talk freely. The forest had often been their meeting place, far away from unintended ears, allowing them the privacy and freedom they needed. In fact, it had been one of these meetings that the mistress had come up with her plan to claim the prince as hers.

            Unfortunately, the mistress no longer found cause for their midnight meetings. She was now confident in her plan that they now met behind the closed door of her bedchambers. Tiri had been nervous at first, with the fear of being caught. But it did not take her mistress long to convince her otherwise.

            And now that the plan was set and begun, there was no backing out now. She had pledged her loyalty to her mistress and intended to keep that pledge.

            No matter what.