Disclaimer: I don't own anybody in this story except for Adariel and minor
character associated with her, i.e. Maids and other people like that…….. I
also made up the King and Lakewood. And I definitely don't own the Lord of
the Rings movie plot! Oh, forget it. Let's just say that I don't own any
characters mentioned already in the book by JRR Tolkien.
Okay, I've got something to say about the story……and that is I think I might stick a little bit to the movie plot because it is sooooo much shorter. Or else I'll make up my own sequence of events related to it…
Echoes of the Narbeleth
Spirit Star
Chapter 10: In which the clouds shroud the night
The dawn brought the morning frost that lay heavily upon them as they hurried on. They came to the feet of stony hills, and their pace was slower, for the trail was no longer easy to follow. Here the highlands of the Emyn Muil ran from North to South in two tumbled ridges. The western side of each ridge was steep and difficalt, but the eastward slpes were gentler, furrowed with many gullies and narrow ravines. It was nearly impossible to take a horse down it.
Adariel woke just before dawn, no longer feeling weak and unused to movement. They had decided to leave Starliss behind, much to her regret. She looked at the mare. She was the only tie that she had to Lakewood, and now they were parting.
"She's smart," Aragorn had said, "She'll find her way home."
But Aragorn didn't know Starliss like Adariel knew Starliss. And she knew that the snow white mare would absolutely refuse to go home, which immediately made her worry. But Starliss refused to tell her anything when Adariel asked, then half begged for her to make her way to safety. Which, of course, worried her more. But the day way was fast approaching, and she took leave of her friend up on a patch of grass bordering the rocky landscape. Starliss refused to let Adariel take the rein off her, tossing her head from side to side.
So it was with a heavy heart that Adariel set off scrambling in this bony land, climbing to the crest of the first and tallest ridge, and then down again into the darkness of a deep winding valley on the other side. There, in the still cool hour of the early morning they rested for a brief time. For the moment, Aragorn was at a loss: the orc-trail had descended into the valley, but there it had vanished.
"Which way do you think they would turn?" said Legolas. "Northward to take a straighter road to Isengard, or Fangorn, if that is their aim as you guess? Or southward to strike the Entwash?"
"They will not make for the river, whatever they aim to do," said Aragorn. "And unless there is much amiss in Rohan and the power of Saruman is greatly increased, they will take the shortest way that they can find over the fields of Rohirrim. Let us search for them northwards!"
"Why to Isengard?" Adariel asked
"Have you not seen the 'S' sign on their armor? S for Saruman. By some foul craft, he has crossed Orcs with Goblin kind." Boromir replied. Adariel felt it somehow disturbing the way that he was looking at her. Maybe she should not have said that she had seen what he had done to Frodo. She'd also acquired a couple of sore spots since starting down the ridge when Boromir scraped his arms on some sharp stones that jut out from the surface.
"So I have noticed," she replied drily. They moved on.
The dale ran like a stony trough between the ridged hills, and a trickling straem flowed among the boulders at the bottom. A cliff frowned upon their right; to their left rose grey slopes, dim and shadowy in the late night. They went on for a mile or more northwards. Aragorn was searching, bent towards the ground, among the folds and gullies leading up into the western ridge. Legolas was some way ahead, walking alongside Adariel.
Suddenly, she gave a cry and the others came rushing towards her. "We must have already overtaken some of those that we have been hunting for," she said pointing, "Look!" They all looked where she directed and saw that what they had first taken for as bolders were in fact huddled bodies. Five dead Orcs lay there. They had been hewn with many cruel strokes, and two of them had been decapitated. The ground was wet with dark blood.
"We must wait for the light of day to dawn fully," said Gimli, "If we wish to achieve any conclusion from this scene."
"But however you read it, it seems not unhopeful," said Legolas. "Enemies of the Orcs are likely to be our friends. Do you think any people live upon these hills?"
"No," answered Aragorn. "The Rohirrim seldom come here, and it is far from Minas Tirith yet. It might be that a company of Men were hunting around here for reasons that we can only guess at. But I think not."
"Then what do you think?" Adariel cut in, impatient to be off.
"I think," Aragorn answered slowly as if annoying Adariel on purpose, "that the enemy has brought his own enemy with him. These are Northern Orcs from far away. Among the slain were none of the great Orcs with the strange badges on their armor. There was a quarrel, I guess: it is no uncommon thing with these foul creatures of darkness. Maybe there was a disagreement about what to do, in which case, they settled it rather violently."
"More like a disagreement over the captives," said Gimli darkly, "Let us hope that they, too, did not meet their end here, or any place before here."
Aragorn searched the ground in a wide circle; they all did. But no other traces of the fight could be found. They went on. Already the sun had risen and nearing the middle point of the sky. A little further north, they came to a fold in which a tiny stream, falling and winding, had cut a stony path down into the valley itself. In it some bushes grew and there were patches of grass upon its sides.
"At last!" said Aragorn. "Here are the tracks that we seek. Up this water channel. This is the way that the Orcs went after their little 'debate'".
They moved off swiftly, following the new path. At last they reached the crest of the grey hill, and a sudden breeze blew in their hair and rustled their cloaks. Turning back they saw across the River the far hills kndled: It was noon. "How wonderful it would be to have seen these hills at the dawning," thought Adariel as she swept her eyes before them. There, before them in the West, the world lay still, and only occasional breezes stirred it. Green overflowed the wide meads of Rohan; a slight mist from condensed water shimmered in the water-vales; and far off to the left, thirty leagues or more, blue and purple stood the great White Mountains, tipped with glimmering snows that shone bright to their eyes under the noon sun.
"Gondor," breathed Aragorn, but then said, "Now let us go!" He drew his eyes from the South and then looked out west and north to the way that they were to tread. Adariel reluctantly agreed, straying behind a little. They all left after Aragorn one by one until she was alone on the hill. Or at least she thought she was. As she stood broodingly under the warmth of the mid-day sun, a voice startled her.
It belonged to Boromir, saying "Is it not lovely here. I can not wait to go back to my people in Minas Tirith." Adariel stepped back. He stood between her and the path down the hill. He moved closer. "Have you been there, Lady Adariel?"
Adariel forced herself to stop taking steps backward. "No," she said, "I can't say that I have." To which Boromir answered, "I suppose not. You Elves do not like to dwell too close to Men. I see that you are nervous and doubt me,"
Adariel did not like the way the conversation was going, and she looked around Boromir and down the hillside at the retreating backs of her companions, and more closely at Legolas, who was running after Aragorn just in front of Gimli. But she was already out of hearing distance, and their figures became like specks. Why had she not thought of that? There were no trees on the grassy hill, and nobody listened to what grass had to say. There was no way that she could get her message across in time if anything happened.
"We should catch up. I was foolish to tarry for so long," she said harshly, and glanced at Boromir. He was looking at her intently. "They will be out of sight soon."
"But we can catch up."
"Your speed will slow you, for you are Man and I am Elf. You cannot catch up to them if you tarry longer," Adariel could almost see the way down now. She was nervous, and was annoyed at herself that she had not checked for spent arrows before she had left. Her knife was inside her pack where she had left it as not to discomfort her on the way down the ridge. As much as Adariel hated to admit it, she was practically defenseless. All this time, she had been carefully sidestepping past Boromir while looking for signs of wildlife to carry a message for her.
There were none. She could see the Fellowship only as tiny figures in the distance now. How long had she been here? Boromir stepped forward, and Adariel took this opportunity to scatter past him the remaining way and hurridly set off along the path down the hillside, heart beating.
"We'll talk, another time!" Boromir called after her as he came down the path after her. Adariel paid no heed to his comment as she picked up the past. Behind her, Boromir stumbled a little on the slightly larger rocks that littered the way down, hitting his knee occassionally on one or two of them. This only made Adariel's progress slower as she fought the alternating pain in her legs.
She had just went around a bend where the Fellowship had disappeared off around when she found herself suddenly on the ground after she'd hit an impact. She gasped a little for breath after the shock of the collision and, on instinct, lifted her head up to see what it was that she had bumped into. But it wasn't an object, it was a hand extended down to her. Beyond it there was a pair legs. And another. And a third. Her head snapped up and she looked directly into the face of the Prince of Mirkwood.
"Are you alright, Lady Adariel?" he asked, hand still held out. Hesitantly she took it and allowed herself to be pulled up, snatching her hand away immediately afterward. "I could have helped myself up, but thank you anyway," she announced. They took the hint that she was fine. Beyond Legolas, she could see Gimli the Dwarf and Aragorn Arathorn's son looking at her with a question in their faces. Boromir hurried up the path behind her moments later. They all looked at him, and he held up his hands.
"Where were you?" asked Aragorn, said to them both, "Have you found anything? We had noticed you were gone and had started back up this path to look for you when Lady Adariel here," he indicated to Adariel, "rounded this corner and ran herself into Legolas."
"I was-" Adariel started to say
"Taking a detour with me to look for more signs," Boromir finished for her, quickly cutting in. Before Adariel could say anything, Aragorn said, "Did you find anything?"
"Nothing," said Boromir, shaking his head solemnly. "Nothing at all."
Adariel opened her mouth, then closed it. Then she opened it again. And then closed it once more. There was no need to alarm the rest of them and besides, she assured herself, it won't happen again. She'd be more careful. Gimli saw her hesitation, and said, "Is that what happened?"
Adariel thought for a minute, and said "Yes. Yes that is what happened." Legolas gave her a calculating look that she didn't like. It was one of those looks people would give her back in Lakewood, right before they said, "You are beautiful," and thought that they knew all there was to know about her. She held her head high and shot a glare his way. To her surprise, he turned away and walked on briskly. She now walked next to Giml as avoid as much conversation as possible with Boromir, who brought up the rear behind them.
The ridge upon which the companions stood went down steeply before their feet. Below it twenty fathoms or more, there was a wide and rugged shelf which ended suddenly in the brink of a sheer cliff: The East Wall of Rohan. So ended the Emyn Muil, and the green plains of the Rohirrim stretched away before them to the horizon.
"Look!" said Legolas suddenly, pointing up at the sky above them, I see an eagle! He is very high. He seems to be flying away from this land back to the North! He is going with great speed. Look!"
And they all looked. Adariel saw the eagle flap its wings in its effort to go North and felt a wonder at it. Here was a creature of such grace and freedom flying with such majestic beauty. She was just about to say so when Aragorn said, "No, not even my eyes can see him. He must be far aloft indeed. I wonder what his errand is, and if he is the same bird I have seen before."
"You have seen him before?" Adariel asked. She had looked at Boromir and Gimli and saw that they were striving and straining their eyes as if they could not see the eagle, clear in the sky. Aragorn said nothing in answer to her question, and nor did any of the others because Aragorn said, "I can see something nearer at hand and more urgent. There is something moving over the plain!"
They all looked again at where he pointed them. "Many things," Adariel said slowly. "It is a great company and they are on foot, yet I cannot say any more about them. They are many miles away and the flatness of the land is hard to measure by."
"At least we know that we are on the right path, and need no trail to guess by" said Gimli. "And I do not doubt that the path of the Orcs is the quickest one through these flatlands. Let us go on."
They followed the Orcs by the clear light of day. It seemed that the Orcs had pressed on with all the speed that they could muster. Every now and then they would find things that had either been dropped or thrown away. Things like food bags, torn cloaks and shoes that were broken on stones. The trail led them north along the top of the escarpment and at length they came to a deep cleft carved in the rock by a stream that splashed noisily down. In the narrow ravine a rough path descended like a steep stair into the plain.
They had reached the plain at last, and felt the sudden strangeness on the grass of Rohan. It swelled like a green sea up to the very foot of the Emyn Muil. To Adariel, who had never seen the sea, it was like a great green mist that had spread itself all over and lain to sleep upon the ground. The falling stream had vanished into a deep growth of cresses and water plants and they could hear the slight tinkling of it away under the floating greeness. They seemed to have left winter behind in the hills. Here, the air was softer and warmer and faintly scented, as if spring was already stirring from its parched sleep.
Adariel took a deep breath and closed her eyes. It made her feel light- headed, as well as light-hearted. She exhaled and took another breath and felt the warm breeze flow through her bound hair, cool on her neck. Suddenly, she felt the urge to jump, to dance, to run through these places so green. And she felt less lonely as all confusion flew from her mind and images of home temporarily danced out of her head. Her eyes flew upward, and to anyone watching her, the clouds reflected there seemed to mist her eyes a little until the sunlight shone and they glistened again.
And there were indeed eyes that followed her. More than one pair, but before Adariel could notice, they had set off again in single file, first Aragorn, then Adariel followed by Gimli, Legolas and Boromir. An eager light shone in their eyes, although it shone dully in Boromir's; his was clouded by something else. The path that the Orcs chose was easy to follow. The fair grass of Rohan had been bruised and blackened as they passed. Suddenly, Aragorn gave a cry and turned aside swiftly. They paused and made to follow him.
"Stay!" he shouted from where he was, "Do not follow me yet!" They stayed silently and waited. They watched him run through the grass, and at the furtherest point he stooped and picked something up from the ground and then ran back. "Yes," he said, "they are quite plain: a hobbit's footprints. Pippin's, I think. He is smaller than Merry. And look at this!" He held up a thing that glittered in the sunlight. It looked like a newyly opened leaf of a birch tree, fair and strange in that treeless plain.
"The brooch of an Elven cloak!" cried Legolas and Gimli together. Boromir looked surprised, and Adariel said nothing. They had all recognized the leaf of Lorien. "It has not been dropped by chance," Aragorn said. I think Pippin ran away from the trail for that purpose."
"Then he at least was alive," said Boromir harshly. "We do not pursue in vain."
"Let us hope that he did not pay too dearly for his boldness," murmured Adariel as she glanced again at the brooch, her mind flickering in its calmness back to the mirror of Galadriel, and of the things she had learnt there in the Golden Woods. "Come, let us go on!" said Legolas, catching her mood when he glanced at her, "The thought of those merry young folk driven like cattle burns my heart."
The sun sank from its proud position in the sky, and shadows rose behind and reached out long arms from the East. Still, they went on. One day now had passed since Merry and Pippin had been captured, and the Orcs were still far ahead. No sight of them could be beheld any longer. As the night's darkness was closing about them, Aragorn halted. Only twice had they rested that day, and only for a brief while at that. Now Aragorn spoke.
"We have two choices," he said to them, "Shall we rest now by the fall of the night, or shall we go on until our will and our strength leaves us? Unless our enemies rest, they will leave us far behind if we sleep."
"Surely, even Orcs must pause for a spell on their march?" said Gimli. They were silent, each pondering that very question until Legolas said "Seldom do Orcs march under the watchful eyes of the sun, yet those that we are hunting have done so. Certainly, they will not rest by night."
"But if we walk by this darkness, we cannot follow their trail," said Gimli
"Their trail is straight and turns neither right nor left, as far as my eyes can see," Adariel cut in. She was tired of this debate. "Although that matters not. What matters is that the one who leads us can see it also." They fell silent and looked at Aragorn. He turned, gazing north and west for a long while. The wind picked up slightly, rustling the grass at their feet. With it came the sound of their tinkling voices, arguing over grassy things. Mostly complaining about being trampled by the Orcs.
Absently, Adariel snapped at them. "Taaaaallo," in the language of the green ones. The grass paid no heed. They were all looking at her now. Her voice had cut through the silence. She cocked her head and ignored their gazes, instead directing her attention to Aragorn. "Well? What path do you choose to lead us on?"
"We will not walk in the dark," he said at length. "There is much danger of loosing the trail and the signs of other comings and goings. If the Moon gave much light, then we could use it. But tonight the sky is covered with cloud so that none of the stars might shine through."
"If only the Lady had given us light, such as the gift she bestowed on Frodo!" Gimli exclaimed, although he did not mind the darkness as much. Adariel shivered, but was glad. She did not fancy tramping through darkened grasses that rustled with the withering wind to sound like movement from the deepest darkness. Her eyes drifted on their own accord up to the pale moonlight that gave through the mist of grey, which cast a blurry halo around the moon itself.
Aragorn had already cast himself onto the ground, and from what Adariel could tell, he had fallen asleep at once. Good. She really felt the need to spend some time by herself to think. There were a lot of things that needed thinking about before they became tangled together. Gimli had cast himself on the ground as well. In a minute or two, he too would be asleep. Legolas had walked to a patch of grass that was still undisturbed and cast himself down, making a small nestle which he now lay in.
She laid herself down and pretended to be asleep also, eyes closed. She felt footsteps close to her head, and tensed. They were heavy footsteps, that of a Man. She had no doubt as to who they belonged to. "Pass me by, pass me by!" she thought, and luckily they did. She exhaled gently when she felt the heavy body drop some distance beyond her in the grass, stirring up small complaints amongst the green blades that shot from the ground.
Another minute later, all was still. Her eyes opened cautiously. They were all asleep, she knew. Standing up without disturbing the grass around her, she silently reached into her pack and withdrew the knife, attaching it to her waist again. She couldn't be too careful, and she cast a dark look at Boromir's still form. Leaving the rest of the things in there, she tread over the grass on light feet until she was some way away from the others, although not out of helping distance. There was a small swell in the plain, barely noticable.
With a sigh, she plopped herself onto the unbroken grass and stared up at the sky. The night was still, and only the clouds glided to and fro in front of the misty moon. "What a pity that the stars aren't out" she said to herself. Stars and the Moon and the Night. Things she had come to know and love, as well as her friends, the trees and also the creatures that resided amongst them. How many times had she flung open her window back in Lakewood at night to breathe the crisp air that flowed amongst the trees?
Lakewood. Home. How foreign those words were to her. Instead, Lakewood was immediately connected to Rivendell, and Rivendell to Elrond. Lakewood seemed a distant memory, although she felt she could still picture the lake that lay there amongst the trees, and the streams that glowed around it. And what about her father? Would she be forever divided between Elrond and Eltheran?
"How did I get myself in such a state," Adariel thought "That I have difficulty defining the words 'Home' and 'Father'?"
The clouds seemed to have cleared up now, slightly. Some stars had twinkled through here and there. With the parting of the clouds came the breeze that stirred the grass around her. It came like a tide that swept across the plain and was suddenly gone. She sighed a little. There was a more prominent issue to be addressed.
Boromir was frightening her. Although the madness that she had initially saw when he had last talked to Frodo was gone, it was replaced by desparate urgency. Urgency to talk to her and find out what exactly she knew about his attempt to gain the ring for himself. This, she knew and regretted that she had said that she knew what he had done for the second time. Now that she thought about it, it was strange that none of the others had asked her what she had seen or done whilst she was trailing them. Strangely, she felt that they were giving her time and letting her open up on her own grounds. "They're luckier trying to get me to kiss an Orc," she scorned.
She stretched her arms in front of her, looking for signs of bruising from the bumps that Boromir had taken on their journey. There were none. A sudden thought occurred to her as she lay there in the sweet grass. If she could feel his pain, then maybe he could also feel hers. That way, if he tried to do anything to her if she was ever caught unawares, the damage would be minimal. She didn't really want to try it, but she knew she had to test her theory before it came under the knife in battle. "Which reminds me," she suddenly thought, "I need new arrows. In the meantime, my knife will have to do."
The wind blew over her again, and she moaned slightly at the cool breeze. She loved it. Adariel suddenly had an urge to let her hair down, which she did, thinking that she would bind it again in the morning. Her eyes closed for a moment as her hair rustled in the gentle hands of the wind that flowed past her neck. The smell of grass was back with her again, making her feel giddy. "It was wrong of people to think that Elves were light hearted and happy all the time," she thought to herself. "We're not, although it is in our nature to feel grateful to nature."
The night was getting darker as the midnight hour grew closer. Adariel shivered now. The clouds had covered the stars, and now the moon's light had started fading in with the thickening mists. It was getting darker. What was that? Adariel's eyes widened as she picked up the slight crunch of grass. The footsteps were light, and she relaxed a little. They definitely didn't belong to Orcs. She was aware that she was in a vulnerable positing, lying on the grass with her hair spread around her like a halo.
And then a soft whoosh of air, and she found that Legolas, the Prince of Mirkwood, was sitting up beside her. She was surprised. "You should be asleep, Sir." She said softly.
"And so should you, Lady Adariel." He answered, turning his head slightly to look at her. She could find no answer to that, but said "I needed to clear my head."
He was still gazing down at her when he said, "Do you always do this Lady Adariel?"
"Do what?"
"When something troubles you, do you always strive to be alone?"
"What makes you say that?" Adariel sat up and turned, her eyes glaring into his face. "You know me not and yet you claim that you do!"
Legolas held up his hand in protest. "Nay, I have said not so! I was merely making an observation." It was a statement. Adariel said nothing, merely leaned back on her arms, eyes turned toward the sky. They were silent for a while, and Adariel toyed with the idea of protesting. But it was Legolas who changed the subject.
"Do you ever miss home?" he asked her, his eyes following hers to the clouded sky. Her temper flared up with her confusion. "Home?" she repeated stupidly. "Yes. And no."
"Yes and no? How so?" he asked head turned toward her again. She sat up fully. The wind caught her once more, but this time she felt no pleasure in the freedom it brought. Only the cold, and she shivered. "You wouldn't understand. You're a Prince." Adariel said after a moment's pause, thinking about all those days she had spent locked in her room, gazing longingly outside through her window.
"It matters not. You are a Princess."
"It matters." Adariel answered. She turned to him to find his eyes following her. The pale moonlight cast onto him, and for a minute Adariel saw him as he would be, free in the woods of his home in Mirkwood. It drew her breath from her lips. She suddenly felt light headed again, and confused. She was suddenly struck by her last vivid memory of Lothlorien, when she had cried sitting on the bank near the stream with Legolas beside her.
A flush entered her cheeks. How could she have done that? Crying was a sign of weakness, and she'd spent her whole life trying to be the opposite. Wasn't that the first time somebody had seen her cry? Her brain was a muddle of thoughts as she tried to clear them. There was an awkward pause on both sides, and then she said "Tell me about Mirkwood."
Legolas looked surprised. "Mirkwood?" Adariel nodded and looked back up at the sky. It was cold, near midnight. "Mirkwood…was green. And it was full of light before the darkness came. It still is, but sometimes it seems that you have to look harder to find it. I remember the leaves turning red with the passing of the seasons when they floated to the ground, with the treetops bare. The woods were our friends. In the spring, the leaves grew green and cast shadows on the ground. The birds danced through the trees and ducked under the sunbeams and over the shallow streams that ran from the mountains." He paused, as if remembering it all for himself.
"Did you like it there?" Adariel said, before she could stop her tongue. Then she chided herself, saying. "Of course! He's the Prince of Mirkwood! How can he not like it there?"
But he surprised her by saying, "Like you had said, Yes and no. I am beginning to understand what you meant by those words, although I cannot guess if you meant them the same way as me. I loved Mirkwood with all my heart, for it was there that I resided for most of my life. But sometimes, I would wish to be anywhere BUT Mirkwood. I loved the thrill of the ride, and to see places that I had not seen with my own eyes before."
"I know how you felt. In my heart, I felt it too. The calling of the wind, and the yearning to ride." Adariel whispered. Legolas said, "You know that I am the Prince of Mirkwood, but I have not heard you say where you have come from, Adariel Elrond's daughter. I do not remember you at Imladris (Rivendell)"
Adariel felt the odd stirring of apprehension, but pushed it down. That was the past. "I am Adariel Elrond's daughter, but was brought up by Elth…Elthloir. So I am known as many things, but you may have heard of me as Adariel, Maiden of Lakewood, renamed Adariel Brightstar (Galadel) by the Lady of the Woods."
Adariel stumbled on saying Eltheran, and instead, said Elthloir who was an old advisor to Eltheran. Perhaps Legolas did not know she was Princess yet, in which case, she did not want to be known as one. For some reason, he didn't seem to make the link between the Princess of Lakewood and the Maiden of Lakewood, whom she had just told him she was. 'Maybe it's to my good fortune…' Adariel thought to herself.
Recognition flickered in Legolas's head. Of course. So that was where he had heard 'Adariel' from. He glanced at her and saw her face flicker for a second with a look of pain from her memories, and wondered how she had become feared so much throughout the Elven world. She looked and acted harmlessly enough. An urge welled up inside of him to comfort her. Bearing that title must not have been easy. No wonder she had been so secretive. He thought of something to say to assure her he did not believe a word of the rumors. But the first thing he said happened to be the wrong words.
"That makes you the most beautiful of the Elves,"
Adariel flickered around suddenly, her mood vanishing as suddenly as it came. "Please, Sir. Do not only look upon me with that thought only. In truth, I had surpased my sister, Arwen, there only because of my fabled cruelty and the mystery surrounding me, for they heighten the effect of looks themselves. But they are gone, and I wish not to be called that any longer."
"I am sorry, I had not known." Was all Legolas could think of to say. This girl had hidden depths to her that he had not seen at first. Adariel's initial anger cooled to a feeling of unhappiness. She was tired, she could not deny it. And she still had the issue of Boromir to deal with when the dawning came. The darkness had stopped inching forward now, and she knew it was the calm of midnight that surrounded her.
She surprised herself by saying, "Sometimes, I feel confused. Is my home in Lakewood, or in Rivendell. Is my father Elrond, or Elth…Elthloir? These questions I have not yet answered, and one day, when I go home, wherever that is, I will have them to deal with."
Legolas thought carefully before answering, "Home is where you feel your heart lies, and your father is the one of your choosing. Although Master Elrond may be of your blood, did Elthloir not bring you up by his own hand, and raise you in the shadowy trees of Lakewood? I have heard of Elthloir, yet did not know he had a daughter."
Adariel shook her head and ignored the last sentence. "I have never met Elrond in my memory, and Elther…er, Elthloir……" she shook her head, wanting to keep her thoughts to herself.
He'd locked her up to keep her there although his intentions had originally been good. And he had also started those rumors about her to keep her at his side. She inhaled again the sweet scent of the green grass. It was not the place for her worries now, nor with the company she now kept. She lay her head back down on the grass, and Legolas followed suit nearby. Somehow, she felt comforted knowing that another Elf was nearby. Starliss had been company on her journey, but she hadn't really realized how much she missed talking to another of her own kind.
"We should rest," Legolas said, gazing up at the near-visible stars. "I fear we have a hard march ahead of us still, and I should like to savor these fields before darker times befall us."
Adariel followed his gaze to the shining stars. He was a Silvan Elf. He loved the stars like she did, for she too came from the woodlands. "It's beautiful." She said. "I hate it, but I love it; The night and the stars and the moon. But I will never enjoy it like I have before, not since my journey in the darkest depths of Moria. How I loath the darkness that lay there."
"It *is* beautiful." Legolas said, although he could not say in truth that he was talking about the stars. "And the darkness must come when the light is out. With light, there will always be shadow. Will you hide from the light even as you hide from the shadow?"
Adariel thought about it. It made sense. Still, it was hard to shake off the feeling at night that she was still locked in the tunnels of the Dwarf mines. But then she looked at the stars again, and saw their twinkling light. She'd been renamed Brightstar by Lady Galadriel; Brightstar to shine in the darkness to guide in the hour of dispair. She hoped she was worthy of the name bestowed on her.
She was tired now, her mind starting to wander aimlessly on the paths of Elven Dream. Her eyes were drooping closed. "Strange," she thought, "sleeping with my eyes closed seems to have become a habit, one from living near Man too long." Adariel didn't care though. She was stubborn, and it was her way of doing things that counted.
Beside her, she heard the melodic voice of Legolas singing softly. She didn't remember her voice joining in but somehow, when he had finished, she found her mouth closing gently and her eyes closing. The breeze picked up and swirled around her. It didn't feel so cold anymore, and woven in her dreams were images of stars that shone brightly, trees that stood tall, birds that echoed, and a voice that sang softly in the night.
1.1 End of Chapter 10
Reviews please! NO FLAMES but constructive criticism is very welcome! –Spirit Star
Hahahahaha!!!! I've cut out the song that Legolas is supposed to sing. If you had read this fic earlier then you would have been able to view it…sorry. Email me if you want it.
Okay, I've got something to say about the story……and that is I think I might stick a little bit to the movie plot because it is sooooo much shorter. Or else I'll make up my own sequence of events related to it…
Echoes of the Narbeleth
Spirit Star
Chapter 10: In which the clouds shroud the night
The dawn brought the morning frost that lay heavily upon them as they hurried on. They came to the feet of stony hills, and their pace was slower, for the trail was no longer easy to follow. Here the highlands of the Emyn Muil ran from North to South in two tumbled ridges. The western side of each ridge was steep and difficalt, but the eastward slpes were gentler, furrowed with many gullies and narrow ravines. It was nearly impossible to take a horse down it.
Adariel woke just before dawn, no longer feeling weak and unused to movement. They had decided to leave Starliss behind, much to her regret. She looked at the mare. She was the only tie that she had to Lakewood, and now they were parting.
"She's smart," Aragorn had said, "She'll find her way home."
But Aragorn didn't know Starliss like Adariel knew Starliss. And she knew that the snow white mare would absolutely refuse to go home, which immediately made her worry. But Starliss refused to tell her anything when Adariel asked, then half begged for her to make her way to safety. Which, of course, worried her more. But the day way was fast approaching, and she took leave of her friend up on a patch of grass bordering the rocky landscape. Starliss refused to let Adariel take the rein off her, tossing her head from side to side.
So it was with a heavy heart that Adariel set off scrambling in this bony land, climbing to the crest of the first and tallest ridge, and then down again into the darkness of a deep winding valley on the other side. There, in the still cool hour of the early morning they rested for a brief time. For the moment, Aragorn was at a loss: the orc-trail had descended into the valley, but there it had vanished.
"Which way do you think they would turn?" said Legolas. "Northward to take a straighter road to Isengard, or Fangorn, if that is their aim as you guess? Or southward to strike the Entwash?"
"They will not make for the river, whatever they aim to do," said Aragorn. "And unless there is much amiss in Rohan and the power of Saruman is greatly increased, they will take the shortest way that they can find over the fields of Rohirrim. Let us search for them northwards!"
"Why to Isengard?" Adariel asked
"Have you not seen the 'S' sign on their armor? S for Saruman. By some foul craft, he has crossed Orcs with Goblin kind." Boromir replied. Adariel felt it somehow disturbing the way that he was looking at her. Maybe she should not have said that she had seen what he had done to Frodo. She'd also acquired a couple of sore spots since starting down the ridge when Boromir scraped his arms on some sharp stones that jut out from the surface.
"So I have noticed," she replied drily. They moved on.
The dale ran like a stony trough between the ridged hills, and a trickling straem flowed among the boulders at the bottom. A cliff frowned upon their right; to their left rose grey slopes, dim and shadowy in the late night. They went on for a mile or more northwards. Aragorn was searching, bent towards the ground, among the folds and gullies leading up into the western ridge. Legolas was some way ahead, walking alongside Adariel.
Suddenly, she gave a cry and the others came rushing towards her. "We must have already overtaken some of those that we have been hunting for," she said pointing, "Look!" They all looked where she directed and saw that what they had first taken for as bolders were in fact huddled bodies. Five dead Orcs lay there. They had been hewn with many cruel strokes, and two of them had been decapitated. The ground was wet with dark blood.
"We must wait for the light of day to dawn fully," said Gimli, "If we wish to achieve any conclusion from this scene."
"But however you read it, it seems not unhopeful," said Legolas. "Enemies of the Orcs are likely to be our friends. Do you think any people live upon these hills?"
"No," answered Aragorn. "The Rohirrim seldom come here, and it is far from Minas Tirith yet. It might be that a company of Men were hunting around here for reasons that we can only guess at. But I think not."
"Then what do you think?" Adariel cut in, impatient to be off.
"I think," Aragorn answered slowly as if annoying Adariel on purpose, "that the enemy has brought his own enemy with him. These are Northern Orcs from far away. Among the slain were none of the great Orcs with the strange badges on their armor. There was a quarrel, I guess: it is no uncommon thing with these foul creatures of darkness. Maybe there was a disagreement about what to do, in which case, they settled it rather violently."
"More like a disagreement over the captives," said Gimli darkly, "Let us hope that they, too, did not meet their end here, or any place before here."
Aragorn searched the ground in a wide circle; they all did. But no other traces of the fight could be found. They went on. Already the sun had risen and nearing the middle point of the sky. A little further north, they came to a fold in which a tiny stream, falling and winding, had cut a stony path down into the valley itself. In it some bushes grew and there were patches of grass upon its sides.
"At last!" said Aragorn. "Here are the tracks that we seek. Up this water channel. This is the way that the Orcs went after their little 'debate'".
They moved off swiftly, following the new path. At last they reached the crest of the grey hill, and a sudden breeze blew in their hair and rustled their cloaks. Turning back they saw across the River the far hills kndled: It was noon. "How wonderful it would be to have seen these hills at the dawning," thought Adariel as she swept her eyes before them. There, before them in the West, the world lay still, and only occasional breezes stirred it. Green overflowed the wide meads of Rohan; a slight mist from condensed water shimmered in the water-vales; and far off to the left, thirty leagues or more, blue and purple stood the great White Mountains, tipped with glimmering snows that shone bright to their eyes under the noon sun.
"Gondor," breathed Aragorn, but then said, "Now let us go!" He drew his eyes from the South and then looked out west and north to the way that they were to tread. Adariel reluctantly agreed, straying behind a little. They all left after Aragorn one by one until she was alone on the hill. Or at least she thought she was. As she stood broodingly under the warmth of the mid-day sun, a voice startled her.
It belonged to Boromir, saying "Is it not lovely here. I can not wait to go back to my people in Minas Tirith." Adariel stepped back. He stood between her and the path down the hill. He moved closer. "Have you been there, Lady Adariel?"
Adariel forced herself to stop taking steps backward. "No," she said, "I can't say that I have." To which Boromir answered, "I suppose not. You Elves do not like to dwell too close to Men. I see that you are nervous and doubt me,"
Adariel did not like the way the conversation was going, and she looked around Boromir and down the hillside at the retreating backs of her companions, and more closely at Legolas, who was running after Aragorn just in front of Gimli. But she was already out of hearing distance, and their figures became like specks. Why had she not thought of that? There were no trees on the grassy hill, and nobody listened to what grass had to say. There was no way that she could get her message across in time if anything happened.
"We should catch up. I was foolish to tarry for so long," she said harshly, and glanced at Boromir. He was looking at her intently. "They will be out of sight soon."
"But we can catch up."
"Your speed will slow you, for you are Man and I am Elf. You cannot catch up to them if you tarry longer," Adariel could almost see the way down now. She was nervous, and was annoyed at herself that she had not checked for spent arrows before she had left. Her knife was inside her pack where she had left it as not to discomfort her on the way down the ridge. As much as Adariel hated to admit it, she was practically defenseless. All this time, she had been carefully sidestepping past Boromir while looking for signs of wildlife to carry a message for her.
There were none. She could see the Fellowship only as tiny figures in the distance now. How long had she been here? Boromir stepped forward, and Adariel took this opportunity to scatter past him the remaining way and hurridly set off along the path down the hillside, heart beating.
"We'll talk, another time!" Boromir called after her as he came down the path after her. Adariel paid no heed to his comment as she picked up the past. Behind her, Boromir stumbled a little on the slightly larger rocks that littered the way down, hitting his knee occassionally on one or two of them. This only made Adariel's progress slower as she fought the alternating pain in her legs.
She had just went around a bend where the Fellowship had disappeared off around when she found herself suddenly on the ground after she'd hit an impact. She gasped a little for breath after the shock of the collision and, on instinct, lifted her head up to see what it was that she had bumped into. But it wasn't an object, it was a hand extended down to her. Beyond it there was a pair legs. And another. And a third. Her head snapped up and she looked directly into the face of the Prince of Mirkwood.
"Are you alright, Lady Adariel?" he asked, hand still held out. Hesitantly she took it and allowed herself to be pulled up, snatching her hand away immediately afterward. "I could have helped myself up, but thank you anyway," she announced. They took the hint that she was fine. Beyond Legolas, she could see Gimli the Dwarf and Aragorn Arathorn's son looking at her with a question in their faces. Boromir hurried up the path behind her moments later. They all looked at him, and he held up his hands.
"Where were you?" asked Aragorn, said to them both, "Have you found anything? We had noticed you were gone and had started back up this path to look for you when Lady Adariel here," he indicated to Adariel, "rounded this corner and ran herself into Legolas."
"I was-" Adariel started to say
"Taking a detour with me to look for more signs," Boromir finished for her, quickly cutting in. Before Adariel could say anything, Aragorn said, "Did you find anything?"
"Nothing," said Boromir, shaking his head solemnly. "Nothing at all."
Adariel opened her mouth, then closed it. Then she opened it again. And then closed it once more. There was no need to alarm the rest of them and besides, she assured herself, it won't happen again. She'd be more careful. Gimli saw her hesitation, and said, "Is that what happened?"
Adariel thought for a minute, and said "Yes. Yes that is what happened." Legolas gave her a calculating look that she didn't like. It was one of those looks people would give her back in Lakewood, right before they said, "You are beautiful," and thought that they knew all there was to know about her. She held her head high and shot a glare his way. To her surprise, he turned away and walked on briskly. She now walked next to Giml as avoid as much conversation as possible with Boromir, who brought up the rear behind them.
The ridge upon which the companions stood went down steeply before their feet. Below it twenty fathoms or more, there was a wide and rugged shelf which ended suddenly in the brink of a sheer cliff: The East Wall of Rohan. So ended the Emyn Muil, and the green plains of the Rohirrim stretched away before them to the horizon.
"Look!" said Legolas suddenly, pointing up at the sky above them, I see an eagle! He is very high. He seems to be flying away from this land back to the North! He is going with great speed. Look!"
And they all looked. Adariel saw the eagle flap its wings in its effort to go North and felt a wonder at it. Here was a creature of such grace and freedom flying with such majestic beauty. She was just about to say so when Aragorn said, "No, not even my eyes can see him. He must be far aloft indeed. I wonder what his errand is, and if he is the same bird I have seen before."
"You have seen him before?" Adariel asked. She had looked at Boromir and Gimli and saw that they were striving and straining their eyes as if they could not see the eagle, clear in the sky. Aragorn said nothing in answer to her question, and nor did any of the others because Aragorn said, "I can see something nearer at hand and more urgent. There is something moving over the plain!"
They all looked again at where he pointed them. "Many things," Adariel said slowly. "It is a great company and they are on foot, yet I cannot say any more about them. They are many miles away and the flatness of the land is hard to measure by."
"At least we know that we are on the right path, and need no trail to guess by" said Gimli. "And I do not doubt that the path of the Orcs is the quickest one through these flatlands. Let us go on."
They followed the Orcs by the clear light of day. It seemed that the Orcs had pressed on with all the speed that they could muster. Every now and then they would find things that had either been dropped or thrown away. Things like food bags, torn cloaks and shoes that were broken on stones. The trail led them north along the top of the escarpment and at length they came to a deep cleft carved in the rock by a stream that splashed noisily down. In the narrow ravine a rough path descended like a steep stair into the plain.
They had reached the plain at last, and felt the sudden strangeness on the grass of Rohan. It swelled like a green sea up to the very foot of the Emyn Muil. To Adariel, who had never seen the sea, it was like a great green mist that had spread itself all over and lain to sleep upon the ground. The falling stream had vanished into a deep growth of cresses and water plants and they could hear the slight tinkling of it away under the floating greeness. They seemed to have left winter behind in the hills. Here, the air was softer and warmer and faintly scented, as if spring was already stirring from its parched sleep.
Adariel took a deep breath and closed her eyes. It made her feel light- headed, as well as light-hearted. She exhaled and took another breath and felt the warm breeze flow through her bound hair, cool on her neck. Suddenly, she felt the urge to jump, to dance, to run through these places so green. And she felt less lonely as all confusion flew from her mind and images of home temporarily danced out of her head. Her eyes flew upward, and to anyone watching her, the clouds reflected there seemed to mist her eyes a little until the sunlight shone and they glistened again.
And there were indeed eyes that followed her. More than one pair, but before Adariel could notice, they had set off again in single file, first Aragorn, then Adariel followed by Gimli, Legolas and Boromir. An eager light shone in their eyes, although it shone dully in Boromir's; his was clouded by something else. The path that the Orcs chose was easy to follow. The fair grass of Rohan had been bruised and blackened as they passed. Suddenly, Aragorn gave a cry and turned aside swiftly. They paused and made to follow him.
"Stay!" he shouted from where he was, "Do not follow me yet!" They stayed silently and waited. They watched him run through the grass, and at the furtherest point he stooped and picked something up from the ground and then ran back. "Yes," he said, "they are quite plain: a hobbit's footprints. Pippin's, I think. He is smaller than Merry. And look at this!" He held up a thing that glittered in the sunlight. It looked like a newyly opened leaf of a birch tree, fair and strange in that treeless plain.
"The brooch of an Elven cloak!" cried Legolas and Gimli together. Boromir looked surprised, and Adariel said nothing. They had all recognized the leaf of Lorien. "It has not been dropped by chance," Aragorn said. I think Pippin ran away from the trail for that purpose."
"Then he at least was alive," said Boromir harshly. "We do not pursue in vain."
"Let us hope that he did not pay too dearly for his boldness," murmured Adariel as she glanced again at the brooch, her mind flickering in its calmness back to the mirror of Galadriel, and of the things she had learnt there in the Golden Woods. "Come, let us go on!" said Legolas, catching her mood when he glanced at her, "The thought of those merry young folk driven like cattle burns my heart."
The sun sank from its proud position in the sky, and shadows rose behind and reached out long arms from the East. Still, they went on. One day now had passed since Merry and Pippin had been captured, and the Orcs were still far ahead. No sight of them could be beheld any longer. As the night's darkness was closing about them, Aragorn halted. Only twice had they rested that day, and only for a brief while at that. Now Aragorn spoke.
"We have two choices," he said to them, "Shall we rest now by the fall of the night, or shall we go on until our will and our strength leaves us? Unless our enemies rest, they will leave us far behind if we sleep."
"Surely, even Orcs must pause for a spell on their march?" said Gimli. They were silent, each pondering that very question until Legolas said "Seldom do Orcs march under the watchful eyes of the sun, yet those that we are hunting have done so. Certainly, they will not rest by night."
"But if we walk by this darkness, we cannot follow their trail," said Gimli
"Their trail is straight and turns neither right nor left, as far as my eyes can see," Adariel cut in. She was tired of this debate. "Although that matters not. What matters is that the one who leads us can see it also." They fell silent and looked at Aragorn. He turned, gazing north and west for a long while. The wind picked up slightly, rustling the grass at their feet. With it came the sound of their tinkling voices, arguing over grassy things. Mostly complaining about being trampled by the Orcs.
Absently, Adariel snapped at them. "Taaaaallo," in the language of the green ones. The grass paid no heed. They were all looking at her now. Her voice had cut through the silence. She cocked her head and ignored their gazes, instead directing her attention to Aragorn. "Well? What path do you choose to lead us on?"
"We will not walk in the dark," he said at length. "There is much danger of loosing the trail and the signs of other comings and goings. If the Moon gave much light, then we could use it. But tonight the sky is covered with cloud so that none of the stars might shine through."
"If only the Lady had given us light, such as the gift she bestowed on Frodo!" Gimli exclaimed, although he did not mind the darkness as much. Adariel shivered, but was glad. She did not fancy tramping through darkened grasses that rustled with the withering wind to sound like movement from the deepest darkness. Her eyes drifted on their own accord up to the pale moonlight that gave through the mist of grey, which cast a blurry halo around the moon itself.
Aragorn had already cast himself onto the ground, and from what Adariel could tell, he had fallen asleep at once. Good. She really felt the need to spend some time by herself to think. There were a lot of things that needed thinking about before they became tangled together. Gimli had cast himself on the ground as well. In a minute or two, he too would be asleep. Legolas had walked to a patch of grass that was still undisturbed and cast himself down, making a small nestle which he now lay in.
She laid herself down and pretended to be asleep also, eyes closed. She felt footsteps close to her head, and tensed. They were heavy footsteps, that of a Man. She had no doubt as to who they belonged to. "Pass me by, pass me by!" she thought, and luckily they did. She exhaled gently when she felt the heavy body drop some distance beyond her in the grass, stirring up small complaints amongst the green blades that shot from the ground.
Another minute later, all was still. Her eyes opened cautiously. They were all asleep, she knew. Standing up without disturbing the grass around her, she silently reached into her pack and withdrew the knife, attaching it to her waist again. She couldn't be too careful, and she cast a dark look at Boromir's still form. Leaving the rest of the things in there, she tread over the grass on light feet until she was some way away from the others, although not out of helping distance. There was a small swell in the plain, barely noticable.
With a sigh, she plopped herself onto the unbroken grass and stared up at the sky. The night was still, and only the clouds glided to and fro in front of the misty moon. "What a pity that the stars aren't out" she said to herself. Stars and the Moon and the Night. Things she had come to know and love, as well as her friends, the trees and also the creatures that resided amongst them. How many times had she flung open her window back in Lakewood at night to breathe the crisp air that flowed amongst the trees?
Lakewood. Home. How foreign those words were to her. Instead, Lakewood was immediately connected to Rivendell, and Rivendell to Elrond. Lakewood seemed a distant memory, although she felt she could still picture the lake that lay there amongst the trees, and the streams that glowed around it. And what about her father? Would she be forever divided between Elrond and Eltheran?
"How did I get myself in such a state," Adariel thought "That I have difficulty defining the words 'Home' and 'Father'?"
The clouds seemed to have cleared up now, slightly. Some stars had twinkled through here and there. With the parting of the clouds came the breeze that stirred the grass around her. It came like a tide that swept across the plain and was suddenly gone. She sighed a little. There was a more prominent issue to be addressed.
Boromir was frightening her. Although the madness that she had initially saw when he had last talked to Frodo was gone, it was replaced by desparate urgency. Urgency to talk to her and find out what exactly she knew about his attempt to gain the ring for himself. This, she knew and regretted that she had said that she knew what he had done for the second time. Now that she thought about it, it was strange that none of the others had asked her what she had seen or done whilst she was trailing them. Strangely, she felt that they were giving her time and letting her open up on her own grounds. "They're luckier trying to get me to kiss an Orc," she scorned.
She stretched her arms in front of her, looking for signs of bruising from the bumps that Boromir had taken on their journey. There were none. A sudden thought occurred to her as she lay there in the sweet grass. If she could feel his pain, then maybe he could also feel hers. That way, if he tried to do anything to her if she was ever caught unawares, the damage would be minimal. She didn't really want to try it, but she knew she had to test her theory before it came under the knife in battle. "Which reminds me," she suddenly thought, "I need new arrows. In the meantime, my knife will have to do."
The wind blew over her again, and she moaned slightly at the cool breeze. She loved it. Adariel suddenly had an urge to let her hair down, which she did, thinking that she would bind it again in the morning. Her eyes closed for a moment as her hair rustled in the gentle hands of the wind that flowed past her neck. The smell of grass was back with her again, making her feel giddy. "It was wrong of people to think that Elves were light hearted and happy all the time," she thought to herself. "We're not, although it is in our nature to feel grateful to nature."
The night was getting darker as the midnight hour grew closer. Adariel shivered now. The clouds had covered the stars, and now the moon's light had started fading in with the thickening mists. It was getting darker. What was that? Adariel's eyes widened as she picked up the slight crunch of grass. The footsteps were light, and she relaxed a little. They definitely didn't belong to Orcs. She was aware that she was in a vulnerable positing, lying on the grass with her hair spread around her like a halo.
And then a soft whoosh of air, and she found that Legolas, the Prince of Mirkwood, was sitting up beside her. She was surprised. "You should be asleep, Sir." She said softly.
"And so should you, Lady Adariel." He answered, turning his head slightly to look at her. She could find no answer to that, but said "I needed to clear my head."
He was still gazing down at her when he said, "Do you always do this Lady Adariel?"
"Do what?"
"When something troubles you, do you always strive to be alone?"
"What makes you say that?" Adariel sat up and turned, her eyes glaring into his face. "You know me not and yet you claim that you do!"
Legolas held up his hand in protest. "Nay, I have said not so! I was merely making an observation." It was a statement. Adariel said nothing, merely leaned back on her arms, eyes turned toward the sky. They were silent for a while, and Adariel toyed with the idea of protesting. But it was Legolas who changed the subject.
"Do you ever miss home?" he asked her, his eyes following hers to the clouded sky. Her temper flared up with her confusion. "Home?" she repeated stupidly. "Yes. And no."
"Yes and no? How so?" he asked head turned toward her again. She sat up fully. The wind caught her once more, but this time she felt no pleasure in the freedom it brought. Only the cold, and she shivered. "You wouldn't understand. You're a Prince." Adariel said after a moment's pause, thinking about all those days she had spent locked in her room, gazing longingly outside through her window.
"It matters not. You are a Princess."
"It matters." Adariel answered. She turned to him to find his eyes following her. The pale moonlight cast onto him, and for a minute Adariel saw him as he would be, free in the woods of his home in Mirkwood. It drew her breath from her lips. She suddenly felt light headed again, and confused. She was suddenly struck by her last vivid memory of Lothlorien, when she had cried sitting on the bank near the stream with Legolas beside her.
A flush entered her cheeks. How could she have done that? Crying was a sign of weakness, and she'd spent her whole life trying to be the opposite. Wasn't that the first time somebody had seen her cry? Her brain was a muddle of thoughts as she tried to clear them. There was an awkward pause on both sides, and then she said "Tell me about Mirkwood."
Legolas looked surprised. "Mirkwood?" Adariel nodded and looked back up at the sky. It was cold, near midnight. "Mirkwood…was green. And it was full of light before the darkness came. It still is, but sometimes it seems that you have to look harder to find it. I remember the leaves turning red with the passing of the seasons when they floated to the ground, with the treetops bare. The woods were our friends. In the spring, the leaves grew green and cast shadows on the ground. The birds danced through the trees and ducked under the sunbeams and over the shallow streams that ran from the mountains." He paused, as if remembering it all for himself.
"Did you like it there?" Adariel said, before she could stop her tongue. Then she chided herself, saying. "Of course! He's the Prince of Mirkwood! How can he not like it there?"
But he surprised her by saying, "Like you had said, Yes and no. I am beginning to understand what you meant by those words, although I cannot guess if you meant them the same way as me. I loved Mirkwood with all my heart, for it was there that I resided for most of my life. But sometimes, I would wish to be anywhere BUT Mirkwood. I loved the thrill of the ride, and to see places that I had not seen with my own eyes before."
"I know how you felt. In my heart, I felt it too. The calling of the wind, and the yearning to ride." Adariel whispered. Legolas said, "You know that I am the Prince of Mirkwood, but I have not heard you say where you have come from, Adariel Elrond's daughter. I do not remember you at Imladris (Rivendell)"
Adariel felt the odd stirring of apprehension, but pushed it down. That was the past. "I am Adariel Elrond's daughter, but was brought up by Elth…Elthloir. So I am known as many things, but you may have heard of me as Adariel, Maiden of Lakewood, renamed Adariel Brightstar (Galadel) by the Lady of the Woods."
Adariel stumbled on saying Eltheran, and instead, said Elthloir who was an old advisor to Eltheran. Perhaps Legolas did not know she was Princess yet, in which case, she did not want to be known as one. For some reason, he didn't seem to make the link between the Princess of Lakewood and the Maiden of Lakewood, whom she had just told him she was. 'Maybe it's to my good fortune…' Adariel thought to herself.
Recognition flickered in Legolas's head. Of course. So that was where he had heard 'Adariel' from. He glanced at her and saw her face flicker for a second with a look of pain from her memories, and wondered how she had become feared so much throughout the Elven world. She looked and acted harmlessly enough. An urge welled up inside of him to comfort her. Bearing that title must not have been easy. No wonder she had been so secretive. He thought of something to say to assure her he did not believe a word of the rumors. But the first thing he said happened to be the wrong words.
"That makes you the most beautiful of the Elves,"
Adariel flickered around suddenly, her mood vanishing as suddenly as it came. "Please, Sir. Do not only look upon me with that thought only. In truth, I had surpased my sister, Arwen, there only because of my fabled cruelty and the mystery surrounding me, for they heighten the effect of looks themselves. But they are gone, and I wish not to be called that any longer."
"I am sorry, I had not known." Was all Legolas could think of to say. This girl had hidden depths to her that he had not seen at first. Adariel's initial anger cooled to a feeling of unhappiness. She was tired, she could not deny it. And she still had the issue of Boromir to deal with when the dawning came. The darkness had stopped inching forward now, and she knew it was the calm of midnight that surrounded her.
She surprised herself by saying, "Sometimes, I feel confused. Is my home in Lakewood, or in Rivendell. Is my father Elrond, or Elth…Elthloir? These questions I have not yet answered, and one day, when I go home, wherever that is, I will have them to deal with."
Legolas thought carefully before answering, "Home is where you feel your heart lies, and your father is the one of your choosing. Although Master Elrond may be of your blood, did Elthloir not bring you up by his own hand, and raise you in the shadowy trees of Lakewood? I have heard of Elthloir, yet did not know he had a daughter."
Adariel shook her head and ignored the last sentence. "I have never met Elrond in my memory, and Elther…er, Elthloir……" she shook her head, wanting to keep her thoughts to herself.
He'd locked her up to keep her there although his intentions had originally been good. And he had also started those rumors about her to keep her at his side. She inhaled again the sweet scent of the green grass. It was not the place for her worries now, nor with the company she now kept. She lay her head back down on the grass, and Legolas followed suit nearby. Somehow, she felt comforted knowing that another Elf was nearby. Starliss had been company on her journey, but she hadn't really realized how much she missed talking to another of her own kind.
"We should rest," Legolas said, gazing up at the near-visible stars. "I fear we have a hard march ahead of us still, and I should like to savor these fields before darker times befall us."
Adariel followed his gaze to the shining stars. He was a Silvan Elf. He loved the stars like she did, for she too came from the woodlands. "It's beautiful." She said. "I hate it, but I love it; The night and the stars and the moon. But I will never enjoy it like I have before, not since my journey in the darkest depths of Moria. How I loath the darkness that lay there."
"It *is* beautiful." Legolas said, although he could not say in truth that he was talking about the stars. "And the darkness must come when the light is out. With light, there will always be shadow. Will you hide from the light even as you hide from the shadow?"
Adariel thought about it. It made sense. Still, it was hard to shake off the feeling at night that she was still locked in the tunnels of the Dwarf mines. But then she looked at the stars again, and saw their twinkling light. She'd been renamed Brightstar by Lady Galadriel; Brightstar to shine in the darkness to guide in the hour of dispair. She hoped she was worthy of the name bestowed on her.
She was tired now, her mind starting to wander aimlessly on the paths of Elven Dream. Her eyes were drooping closed. "Strange," she thought, "sleeping with my eyes closed seems to have become a habit, one from living near Man too long." Adariel didn't care though. She was stubborn, and it was her way of doing things that counted.
Beside her, she heard the melodic voice of Legolas singing softly. She didn't remember her voice joining in but somehow, when he had finished, she found her mouth closing gently and her eyes closing. The breeze picked up and swirled around her. It didn't feel so cold anymore, and woven in her dreams were images of stars that shone brightly, trees that stood tall, birds that echoed, and a voice that sang softly in the night.
1.1 End of Chapter 10
Reviews please! NO FLAMES but constructive criticism is very welcome! –Spirit Star
Hahahahaha!!!! I've cut out the song that Legolas is supposed to sing. If you had read this fic earlier then you would have been able to view it…sorry. Email me if you want it.