Chapter 36
With a sigh of defeat he threw his hands in the air. "I give up!"
Simvynel scowled dark enough to portray sudden bad weather. "You're not allowed to give up." She snapped glancing over her shoulder as she paced in front of the vine-framed window. Lilluil looked past her stiff sister to watch the storm clouds tumbling over each other like murky waves in the sky. The rolling clouds were still miles out to sea but their looming forms were already darkening the bright afternoon. She snapped back towards the room at the sound of her name.
"What?"
Geisran laughed insanely while running a hand through his hair. "How is this going to work again?" he demanded sarcastically. Simvynel closed her eyes and muttered some phrases to soft to hear.
"Lilluil, darling. You're going to give your poor sister a headache I do believe." Geis commented once he got a hold of himself. A grin alit his face and he leaned forward until his sun streaked hair fell roguishly around his face. "You really ought to listen you know, I'll tell you.for a favor that is."
He was a friend of her sister, so she knew he wouldn't harm her. The implications were bold though. Normally she would have shaken them off with a smile but coming from an elf she was supposedly betrothed to it was something else altogether. Spinning in her seat she grabbed Simvynel's attention.
"I don't think so. Tell me what's happening."
Geis flicked his hair back huffily. "Ouch, snappy little thing isn't she."
Simvynel sighed. "We're going to try to get you back north, tonight. Forget all other plans we may have made due to Father dear they're hunting you in the streets. The northies stuck in the jail won't have much time either now that the King is riled. We have to act."
"So what are we going to do?" Simvynel sighed again and she waited patiently.
"Our best bet at this moment is a decoy, long enough so that you and all those others can get out. We're going to leave quite soon to jailbreak the northies, Geis and I have exceptional knowledge of the jail system."
"From when your sister brained that cheeky fellow." Geis inserted cheerily.
"We'll be able to get them out and we'll send them northwards through a part of the border that Kirel controls. They won't see anything."
"If Legolas and Fathiel haven't managed to screw up they should be at a meeting place that we've already arranged. I left a note for them counting on the fact that they can read of course, instructing for them to hide in the cellar there until we come for them."
"So what am I supposed to do?"
"Kirel picked up your tools from the forge. I suppose you can get back to what you do best and put an edge to their butterknives."
She giggled quietly but authenticly. That had been a joke if ever she had known one. Northern weapons about as sharp as the hammers she used to temper the edges of her own blades. The younger elves practiced with blades as sharp as the ones that their warriors wielded. It was humorous at best, pitiable at worst. Her blades though, outmatched even southern ones so with a little time their weapons could be quickly refined into real knives.
"Great, when do I start?" she chirped.
Geisran grinned. "As thievery is the soul of a thief, so be his trade to the artist." He quoted.
Simvynel smiled half-heartedly. "That wouldn't be Tathion would it?"
His grin grew even bigger if possible. "No, Lord Geisran Rodariel actually." He replied smugly. "As for the trade I believe mine would be escape artist, Lilluil's would be weaponsmith and yours is of course all around conspirator. As that wise elf once said their trade is their soul. We ought to get on with our lives right about now."
She nodded. "Another good idea from a wise elf."
He rolled lithely off the couch. "Well ladies usually go first but since both of you haven't a fraction of my knowledge concerning the tunnels I'll go first."
Lilluil scowled slightly mirroring her sister's thunderous expression at the comment but both wordlessly followed him as he strode across the room and deftly flicked open the door slipping into the hallway beyond it.
Warily Legolas and Fathiel marched down the beach surrounded and held in check by numerous spears, swords knives arrows and even a single pole ax. It was not a troupe of southern warriors that escorted them now, oh no. Instead a party of twenty some elven children and youths were leading them along the shoreline.
Oddly enough, or luckily enough they were being carefully led away from the city and other eyes, instead the entourage were traveling at a rather quick pace down the coast. They had been half walking half trotting for a good ten minutes already and the group was showing no signs of stopping.
At first glance Fathiel and he had thought the group of elven youths more of a danger for exposing them than an actual physical threat. This assumption had been quickly turned over though when the sheer numbers of the group became apparent and the two of them grimly realized they had surrendered their knives to Lilluil's sister.
There was the group itself too. Twenty.six he believed. All of whom were under a century old and still in adolescence or even younger still. He hadn't seen an elven child in centuries nor heard of one in all the northern domain. To have twenty-six the southern population must be flourishing still. It was a revelation that sent them both into startled surprise long enough for twenty six pointy objects to be leveled in their direction.
They turned around a curve in the beach and abruptly came onto a gathering. Even more elven children were grouped on the pale sand. The group was massive, in a glance he could easily tell that there would at least have to be one child from every other family that lived in the city was present. It was astounding and for nearly the first time in three hundred years Legolas stumbled slightly barely catching himself in time to prevent a spill across the sand.
Like a wave the crowd turned to survey the new arrivals. Although he was the prince the piercing gazes which didn't even make attempts to hide their blatant studying unnerved him to the core. They were not the pale blues he usually identified with but scorchingly dark browns and sea deep blues all dark penetrating colors.
Fathiel next to him stared openly back. "By the valar! There's got to be a hundred of them!"
One of the elder ones, with hair light enough to be mistaken as silver or even white, broke away from the group his unwavering gaze never leaving them. "One hundred-thirteen to be precise." He replied somberly. "We are all actually here for a reason too. You're a northie so I'll explain."
Fathiel winced at the casualness of the comment.
Legolas however allowed a curious smile to settle into place. "You don't exactly look like a southern elf yourself." He pointed out.
He cocked his head and laughed loudly and before long many of the other children were laughing, not the light laughter of mirth though. It was veined with sarcasm and bitter anger. It was frightening to hear such a sound from the children that were considered next to sacred to their race.
Between the laughter a couple comments regarding the intelligence of northern elves and his overall ability to see were issued before silence once again took the reigns. "Well I suppose that would be because I'm not a southern elf." He replied cynically.
Legolas and Fathiel just stared. It took a moment to collect his thoughts but they finally formed a sentence. "You're a northern elf? What happened to you?" he asked incredulously.
He smiled again, this time though it was a tolerant one. "No, I'm not a northern elf, with the regard you have for your offspring, and the fact that there hasn't been a southern child for at least two hundred years I can imagine your surprise, but no. I'm actually what the southies and northies refer to as an ice elf."
Lilluil grinned slyly and shoved her sleeves up past her elbows. "Ha, time to get to work. I'll have.!"
Simvynel and Geisran were simultaneously sending her last-warning looks. It took only a moment before she remembered the situation and the abrupt need to pose as a common weaponsmith. Which meant, unfortunately no female conversation while the forging was going on. Forges were created to reduce sound but that didn't diminish the range of elvish hearing in the slightest.
She gave them a weak smile and then a parting nod as she plucked the sack from the rafters. It was always hidden in the same place. With a flick she opened it and removed the knives. Two ivory handled ones with intricate designs inlaid into the blades. Luckily they were a little back from the edge and wouldn't be damaged, and two lesser ones obviously belonging to Fathiel with equally blunt edges and similar workings along the blades. She'd taken an interest earlier with the fanciful designs that could be carved into the metal but she'd never had the strength to do it. High hopes for beautiful blades had fallen and deteriorated within days.
It was not however something she would linger over though. The forge was already going so she plunged the weapons into the heat and waited for them to soften.
With a sigh of defeat he threw his hands in the air. "I give up!"
Simvynel scowled dark enough to portray sudden bad weather. "You're not allowed to give up." She snapped glancing over her shoulder as she paced in front of the vine-framed window. Lilluil looked past her stiff sister to watch the storm clouds tumbling over each other like murky waves in the sky. The rolling clouds were still miles out to sea but their looming forms were already darkening the bright afternoon. She snapped back towards the room at the sound of her name.
"What?"
Geisran laughed insanely while running a hand through his hair. "How is this going to work again?" he demanded sarcastically. Simvynel closed her eyes and muttered some phrases to soft to hear.
"Lilluil, darling. You're going to give your poor sister a headache I do believe." Geis commented once he got a hold of himself. A grin alit his face and he leaned forward until his sun streaked hair fell roguishly around his face. "You really ought to listen you know, I'll tell you.for a favor that is."
He was a friend of her sister, so she knew he wouldn't harm her. The implications were bold though. Normally she would have shaken them off with a smile but coming from an elf she was supposedly betrothed to it was something else altogether. Spinning in her seat she grabbed Simvynel's attention.
"I don't think so. Tell me what's happening."
Geis flicked his hair back huffily. "Ouch, snappy little thing isn't she."
Simvynel sighed. "We're going to try to get you back north, tonight. Forget all other plans we may have made due to Father dear they're hunting you in the streets. The northies stuck in the jail won't have much time either now that the King is riled. We have to act."
"So what are we going to do?" Simvynel sighed again and she waited patiently.
"Our best bet at this moment is a decoy, long enough so that you and all those others can get out. We're going to leave quite soon to jailbreak the northies, Geis and I have exceptional knowledge of the jail system."
"From when your sister brained that cheeky fellow." Geis inserted cheerily.
"We'll be able to get them out and we'll send them northwards through a part of the border that Kirel controls. They won't see anything."
"If Legolas and Fathiel haven't managed to screw up they should be at a meeting place that we've already arranged. I left a note for them counting on the fact that they can read of course, instructing for them to hide in the cellar there until we come for them."
"So what am I supposed to do?"
"Kirel picked up your tools from the forge. I suppose you can get back to what you do best and put an edge to their butterknives."
She giggled quietly but authenticly. That had been a joke if ever she had known one. Northern weapons about as sharp as the hammers she used to temper the edges of her own blades. The younger elves practiced with blades as sharp as the ones that their warriors wielded. It was humorous at best, pitiable at worst. Her blades though, outmatched even southern ones so with a little time their weapons could be quickly refined into real knives.
"Great, when do I start?" she chirped.
Geisran grinned. "As thievery is the soul of a thief, so be his trade to the artist." He quoted.
Simvynel smiled half-heartedly. "That wouldn't be Tathion would it?"
His grin grew even bigger if possible. "No, Lord Geisran Rodariel actually." He replied smugly. "As for the trade I believe mine would be escape artist, Lilluil's would be weaponsmith and yours is of course all around conspirator. As that wise elf once said their trade is their soul. We ought to get on with our lives right about now."
She nodded. "Another good idea from a wise elf."
He rolled lithely off the couch. "Well ladies usually go first but since both of you haven't a fraction of my knowledge concerning the tunnels I'll go first."
Lilluil scowled slightly mirroring her sister's thunderous expression at the comment but both wordlessly followed him as he strode across the room and deftly flicked open the door slipping into the hallway beyond it.
Warily Legolas and Fathiel marched down the beach surrounded and held in check by numerous spears, swords knives arrows and even a single pole ax. It was not a troupe of southern warriors that escorted them now, oh no. Instead a party of twenty some elven children and youths were leading them along the shoreline.
Oddly enough, or luckily enough they were being carefully led away from the city and other eyes, instead the entourage were traveling at a rather quick pace down the coast. They had been half walking half trotting for a good ten minutes already and the group was showing no signs of stopping.
At first glance Fathiel and he had thought the group of elven youths more of a danger for exposing them than an actual physical threat. This assumption had been quickly turned over though when the sheer numbers of the group became apparent and the two of them grimly realized they had surrendered their knives to Lilluil's sister.
There was the group itself too. Twenty.six he believed. All of whom were under a century old and still in adolescence or even younger still. He hadn't seen an elven child in centuries nor heard of one in all the northern domain. To have twenty-six the southern population must be flourishing still. It was a revelation that sent them both into startled surprise long enough for twenty six pointy objects to be leveled in their direction.
They turned around a curve in the beach and abruptly came onto a gathering. Even more elven children were grouped on the pale sand. The group was massive, in a glance he could easily tell that there would at least have to be one child from every other family that lived in the city was present. It was astounding and for nearly the first time in three hundred years Legolas stumbled slightly barely catching himself in time to prevent a spill across the sand.
Like a wave the crowd turned to survey the new arrivals. Although he was the prince the piercing gazes which didn't even make attempts to hide their blatant studying unnerved him to the core. They were not the pale blues he usually identified with but scorchingly dark browns and sea deep blues all dark penetrating colors.
Fathiel next to him stared openly back. "By the valar! There's got to be a hundred of them!"
One of the elder ones, with hair light enough to be mistaken as silver or even white, broke away from the group his unwavering gaze never leaving them. "One hundred-thirteen to be precise." He replied somberly. "We are all actually here for a reason too. You're a northie so I'll explain."
Fathiel winced at the casualness of the comment.
Legolas however allowed a curious smile to settle into place. "You don't exactly look like a southern elf yourself." He pointed out.
He cocked his head and laughed loudly and before long many of the other children were laughing, not the light laughter of mirth though. It was veined with sarcasm and bitter anger. It was frightening to hear such a sound from the children that were considered next to sacred to their race.
Between the laughter a couple comments regarding the intelligence of northern elves and his overall ability to see were issued before silence once again took the reigns. "Well I suppose that would be because I'm not a southern elf." He replied cynically.
Legolas and Fathiel just stared. It took a moment to collect his thoughts but they finally formed a sentence. "You're a northern elf? What happened to you?" he asked incredulously.
He smiled again, this time though it was a tolerant one. "No, I'm not a northern elf, with the regard you have for your offspring, and the fact that there hasn't been a southern child for at least two hundred years I can imagine your surprise, but no. I'm actually what the southies and northies refer to as an ice elf."
Lilluil grinned slyly and shoved her sleeves up past her elbows. "Ha, time to get to work. I'll have.!"
Simvynel and Geisran were simultaneously sending her last-warning looks. It took only a moment before she remembered the situation and the abrupt need to pose as a common weaponsmith. Which meant, unfortunately no female conversation while the forging was going on. Forges were created to reduce sound but that didn't diminish the range of elvish hearing in the slightest.
She gave them a weak smile and then a parting nod as she plucked the sack from the rafters. It was always hidden in the same place. With a flick she opened it and removed the knives. Two ivory handled ones with intricate designs inlaid into the blades. Luckily they were a little back from the edge and wouldn't be damaged, and two lesser ones obviously belonging to Fathiel with equally blunt edges and similar workings along the blades. She'd taken an interest earlier with the fanciful designs that could be carved into the metal but she'd never had the strength to do it. High hopes for beautiful blades had fallen and deteriorated within days.
It was not however something she would linger over though. The forge was already going so she plunged the weapons into the heat and waited for them to soften.