After Andrea had fallen asleep, Sivi was restless. She got up and
began strolling among the campsites. Finally, she decided that she would go
and take Gil-galad's sword and shield, perhaps his spear, and polish them.
She approached the king's dying fire and picked up his sword. As she glanced around for Aiglos, she noticed that Gil-galad was tossing and turning violently.
"No," he murmured. "Not yet! Not yet..."
Sivi debated for a moment, then pulled the hood of her silver cloak over her face and dropped to one knee by the Elven-king's side. She shook his shoulders gently. Risking everything, she whispered,
"Ereinion?"
He woke and sat up with a start. Sivi pulled herself up behind him, taking advantage of his moment of confusion.
"My liege?" she asked concernedly.
"Sivi?" Gil-galad was still looking frantically around, certain he'd heard her. Perhaps it had been part of his horrific dream...
"A nightmare, my lord king?"
"Nightmare..." The word was too tame for what he'd just experienced. Gil- galad shook away his hopes and fears and grinned sheepishly at the hooded elf standing over him. "Yes, I suppose so. Is that you, Caranlas?"
"Yes, my lord," she replied. "Be not ashamed. The mightiest warrior in Ea may have bad dreams."
Gil-galad smiled and dusted off the knees of his leggings.
"I suppose so. What are you doing here?"
"I could not sleep. I thought to polish your weapons and return them before you had awoken."
"Ah."
There was a long silence. At last, the king tossed Sivi a cloth.
"Stay and speak with me while you polish, then," he said amiably. "D'you want my help?"
"No, my lord king, yet I thank you."
"Your voice is deeper than most," the elf told her as she began to rub.
"So I am told," she returned. Indeed, Sarah had often joked that Sivi sang soprano but spoke alto.
"Have you ever had a lady, Caranlas?"
Sivi smiled. I should hope not, she thought dryly.
"No, my liege. Have you?"
"No," said Gil-galad sadly. "I am hers, but she is not mine."
Sivi's conscience slapped her again.
"I am sorry, my lord," she said, apologizing in her heart for more than Gil- galad could realize.
On the morning of Legolas' disappearance, Widow Dorwen approached Joseph. Tentatively, she handed him a piece of sketchbook paper that had been folded several times. Wringing her hands, she said nervously,
"Ah foun' this on the floor by my bed, good sir. I don' know what i'says; I cannuh read."
Joseph unfolded the paper and stared at it for a long moment. Then he muttered,
"If they're still alive when I get hold of them, I'll kill them both."
"What does it say?" Megan asked from the kitchen table.
"It's written in Andrea's vernacular. It says, 'Mr. Joseph, don't worry about Sivi and me. We've gone with Gil-galad to Orodruin. We have to tie up the armour-bearers so we can use their armour, so if you could go to Ecthalion and let them go, that'd be really cool. Sivi says to go ahead and try to stop Elendil. See you on the battlefield, signed Andrea. P.S.: Tell the elf-guys we'll return their armour after the battle.'"
She approached the king's dying fire and picked up his sword. As she glanced around for Aiglos, she noticed that Gil-galad was tossing and turning violently.
"No," he murmured. "Not yet! Not yet..."
Sivi debated for a moment, then pulled the hood of her silver cloak over her face and dropped to one knee by the Elven-king's side. She shook his shoulders gently. Risking everything, she whispered,
"Ereinion?"
He woke and sat up with a start. Sivi pulled herself up behind him, taking advantage of his moment of confusion.
"My liege?" she asked concernedly.
"Sivi?" Gil-galad was still looking frantically around, certain he'd heard her. Perhaps it had been part of his horrific dream...
"A nightmare, my lord king?"
"Nightmare..." The word was too tame for what he'd just experienced. Gil- galad shook away his hopes and fears and grinned sheepishly at the hooded elf standing over him. "Yes, I suppose so. Is that you, Caranlas?"
"Yes, my lord," she replied. "Be not ashamed. The mightiest warrior in Ea may have bad dreams."
Gil-galad smiled and dusted off the knees of his leggings.
"I suppose so. What are you doing here?"
"I could not sleep. I thought to polish your weapons and return them before you had awoken."
"Ah."
There was a long silence. At last, the king tossed Sivi a cloth.
"Stay and speak with me while you polish, then," he said amiably. "D'you want my help?"
"No, my lord king, yet I thank you."
"Your voice is deeper than most," the elf told her as she began to rub.
"So I am told," she returned. Indeed, Sarah had often joked that Sivi sang soprano but spoke alto.
"Have you ever had a lady, Caranlas?"
Sivi smiled. I should hope not, she thought dryly.
"No, my liege. Have you?"
"No," said Gil-galad sadly. "I am hers, but she is not mine."
Sivi's conscience slapped her again.
"I am sorry, my lord," she said, apologizing in her heart for more than Gil- galad could realize.
On the morning of Legolas' disappearance, Widow Dorwen approached Joseph. Tentatively, she handed him a piece of sketchbook paper that had been folded several times. Wringing her hands, she said nervously,
"Ah foun' this on the floor by my bed, good sir. I don' know what i'says; I cannuh read."
Joseph unfolded the paper and stared at it for a long moment. Then he muttered,
"If they're still alive when I get hold of them, I'll kill them both."
"What does it say?" Megan asked from the kitchen table.
"It's written in Andrea's vernacular. It says, 'Mr. Joseph, don't worry about Sivi and me. We've gone with Gil-galad to Orodruin. We have to tie up the armour-bearers so we can use their armour, so if you could go to Ecthalion and let them go, that'd be really cool. Sivi says to go ahead and try to stop Elendil. See you on the battlefield, signed Andrea. P.S.: Tell the elf-guys we'll return their armour after the battle.'"