Disclaimer: Check chapter one
Chapter Eleven
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He understood now the poignancy in an upwards glance, the depth of a whisper. Something had unfolded itself before him, but the moment was too fleeting in its passing for him to envelop it. Her hand slipped from his face, the pads of her fingers leaving behind naught but a breeze.
She stepped quickly out from the balcony; her slippered feet padded quickly down the hall. Pausing briefly in front of the ballroom, she caught the sound of shocked murmurs, and her eyes were drawn to the full pane windows, slamming against the walls as several elves struggled to close them against the wind.
They had been unlatched.
The halls were dark, and she stepped back into the maze. Isorfir was not in the ballroom. She turned, and ran flush into Legolas, who looked somewhat out of place.
"Explore the northeast wing, and I will follow the opposite path. Call if you find anything."
He nodded but caught her hand before she could turn away. Her eyes reflected the glint of a solitary candle as she slowed, catching the reality of the seconds that crept by.
"Take care, milady. Vesta amin…"
Another tick of the clock sounded, and she was gone.
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Fiothiel bounded up the west wing stairs, pausing at every corner, breath caught raggedly in her throat. She could hear movement, but it was behind walls too thick to release their secrets. She knew every crack, every door, every corner. When it seemed like all of her options had been exhausted, the steady creak of a heavy oak door echoed through the hall.
Every nerve in her body strung tight as a bowstring, she drew her dagger and opened the door with a push of her toe.
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Tiptoeing along the east wing, Legolas tried to calm his beating heart. He could not tell if his palpitations were from fright, or the memory of her eyes mere inches from his. He tried to ignore the pattering of spidery branches on the windows, calling out to distract him. Trying to focus on the task at hand, he stopped when he heard the lively music begin anew. A mellow drumbeat could be heard, sounding the rhythm the dancers stepped to.
Beat two three, beat five six, beat… beat…
A scream.
His head whipped around painfully as he sprinted towards the sound, not caring anymore about the silence in his step. Past the north wing, up the stairs… familiar surroundings became a blur as he came closer to the elaborate wooden door under which a crack of light could be seen. He drew his knife, and kneed the heavy door open with a bang.
Time froze, but unawares, life went on below…
Beat two three, beat five six, beat…beat… beat.
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