Whilst pacing in my room (feeling so trapped, I seem to be doing that a lot
lately), I hear voices outside. 'Tis my father and Rumar of Clothden, the
man he seems to see as my future husband.
Tears prick my eyes as I think of my father's plans for me. Surely he doesn't mean to trap me in a loveless marriage? But it appears so, because of the way he is talking to Rumar.
Rumar will not have me. Not under any circumstances. I tell myself that as anger surfaces within me. I try to crane my neck to listen to what they are saying outside. I can just about hear them, as they are talking loudly, their tone smug.
"I look forward to joining with Eden. She is quite the beauty." Rumar talking. I simply can't stand his voice. I much prefer Legolas's. It is sweet and gentle, and not at all commanding. He loves me for who I am, not what he can achieve through me. "I will do well for Hardane,my King. I will make it everything it has the potential to be. Your crop has failed some years, and you have not had the castle that your landscape deserves. But with me governing, you will."
I begin to feel sick.
"Yes," my father replies. "This is most suitable. Eden is dutiful, and she knows what she must do to be a good Queen. She will obey you."
Now anger rises in me and I work hard to quell it as best I can. I clench my fists. Then, looking at them, at the man I think I have to marry, I suddenly feel sad. I take a piece of parchment from my dressing table and a quill. I begin to write.
My dearest,
How are you? How is your journey? I hope with all my heart that you are faring well.
You will want to know how I am, but I fear I have not the best news that anyone would want to hear. I can already hear my father and that idiot, Rumar, making plans for our impending wedding, I do not know how long I will be able to hold them off for.
I long for you to return home,. And rescue me. When will you learn if you can vouch for me in Valinor?
Sudddenly I become aware that my father and Rumar are no longer talking outside. I listen carefully. They are coming upstairs, towards my room,. My heart racing, I shut the half finished letter and quill into the bottom drawer of my wooden dressing table and try to look presentable and welcoming. If I am rude, my father will punish me later.
Although I would take a thousand punishments if it meant I could be with Legolas.
"Eden." 'Tis my father's voice. A voice I had previously loved, but now am sad to hear. And it is a thing I hate to admit - that I dread the sound of my father's own dear voice. "Are you decent? May we come in?"
"Yes, father." I agree, reluctantly, trying to shake off the tone in my voice.
They enter, Rumar dressed in full robes as I expected. Sighing, I try not to vomit as he kisses my hand lavishly. It does not make me feel well at all.
"Eden, you look beautiful this day."
"Thank you, my Lord." I curtsey and try not to think about how good it would be to tie him up and hang him from the castle roof by his.ears. "You look well, aslso. May I ask what I can do for you?"
"As you know, I have asked your father for your hand."
That father stands behind Rumar looking smug. He is holding everything he has on this arrangement, I know, and it makes me feel so sad. So sad. Because I am his only child and he feels he can commit me to this atrocity.
"I have been informed, yes."
"And?"
Fanning myself with my hand, I fain swooning. "My lord, I fear that the proposal has made me rather overexcited and I wish time to think about this. But I am only too aware of the honour of being your Queen."
Pleased, my father ushers Rumar out.
I collapse on the bed. Time to breathe at last!!
I retrieve my letter from its hiding place and my quill in hand, I begin to write again. My hearts feels heavy now that I have my impending marriage hanging over my head. What will I do? I ask myself, feeling tired of living with my father, tired of having him dictate my life.
I am not sure how long I can hold off Rumar. I do not wish to marry him - every fibre in my being is against it. Please, hurry back and tell me I can accompany you to Valinor, where we can marry and live together happily.
I finish with
Amin mela lle, I love you in Elvish, the language of both our hearts. And I pray for his swift return.
Tears prick my eyes as I think of my father's plans for me. Surely he doesn't mean to trap me in a loveless marriage? But it appears so, because of the way he is talking to Rumar.
Rumar will not have me. Not under any circumstances. I tell myself that as anger surfaces within me. I try to crane my neck to listen to what they are saying outside. I can just about hear them, as they are talking loudly, their tone smug.
"I look forward to joining with Eden. She is quite the beauty." Rumar talking. I simply can't stand his voice. I much prefer Legolas's. It is sweet and gentle, and not at all commanding. He loves me for who I am, not what he can achieve through me. "I will do well for Hardane,my King. I will make it everything it has the potential to be. Your crop has failed some years, and you have not had the castle that your landscape deserves. But with me governing, you will."
I begin to feel sick.
"Yes," my father replies. "This is most suitable. Eden is dutiful, and she knows what she must do to be a good Queen. She will obey you."
Now anger rises in me and I work hard to quell it as best I can. I clench my fists. Then, looking at them, at the man I think I have to marry, I suddenly feel sad. I take a piece of parchment from my dressing table and a quill. I begin to write.
My dearest,
How are you? How is your journey? I hope with all my heart that you are faring well.
You will want to know how I am, but I fear I have not the best news that anyone would want to hear. I can already hear my father and that idiot, Rumar, making plans for our impending wedding, I do not know how long I will be able to hold them off for.
I long for you to return home,. And rescue me. When will you learn if you can vouch for me in Valinor?
Sudddenly I become aware that my father and Rumar are no longer talking outside. I listen carefully. They are coming upstairs, towards my room,. My heart racing, I shut the half finished letter and quill into the bottom drawer of my wooden dressing table and try to look presentable and welcoming. If I am rude, my father will punish me later.
Although I would take a thousand punishments if it meant I could be with Legolas.
"Eden." 'Tis my father's voice. A voice I had previously loved, but now am sad to hear. And it is a thing I hate to admit - that I dread the sound of my father's own dear voice. "Are you decent? May we come in?"
"Yes, father." I agree, reluctantly, trying to shake off the tone in my voice.
They enter, Rumar dressed in full robes as I expected. Sighing, I try not to vomit as he kisses my hand lavishly. It does not make me feel well at all.
"Eden, you look beautiful this day."
"Thank you, my Lord." I curtsey and try not to think about how good it would be to tie him up and hang him from the castle roof by his.ears. "You look well, aslso. May I ask what I can do for you?"
"As you know, I have asked your father for your hand."
That father stands behind Rumar looking smug. He is holding everything he has on this arrangement, I know, and it makes me feel so sad. So sad. Because I am his only child and he feels he can commit me to this atrocity.
"I have been informed, yes."
"And?"
Fanning myself with my hand, I fain swooning. "My lord, I fear that the proposal has made me rather overexcited and I wish time to think about this. But I am only too aware of the honour of being your Queen."
Pleased, my father ushers Rumar out.
I collapse on the bed. Time to breathe at last!!
I retrieve my letter from its hiding place and my quill in hand, I begin to write again. My hearts feels heavy now that I have my impending marriage hanging over my head. What will I do? I ask myself, feeling tired of living with my father, tired of having him dictate my life.
I am not sure how long I can hold off Rumar. I do not wish to marry him - every fibre in my being is against it. Please, hurry back and tell me I can accompany you to Valinor, where we can marry and live together happily.
I finish with
Amin mela lle, I love you in Elvish, the language of both our hearts. And I pray for his swift return.