Synopsis:
In the time before the War of the Ring,
a loved one was lost. Now, in the peace that follows, Valraen,
the King's own cousin has been found. But her past is covered in darkness
and Valraen has no memory of herself or the Elf she
loved. As the forces of darkness that separated them gather once more,
can Legolas bridge the distance between them and
reclaim the one he lost?
OK… I sat down for two and a half hours straight and got Chapter 4 done. Its two o'clock in the morning here in Oz and so
I'm off to sleep… but I hope you like it.
Please review… all comments welcome (as long as they're constructive).
Legal Stuff – All characters (except Valraen/ Arienel and The Master) belong to Tokien
The Great. None to me (more's
the pity). I am but a trespasser on his glory.
Chapter 4: Awakenings
You shall call me… Arienel…
Arienel woke with a fright as the last remnants of the dream slipped slowly from her mind. There had been a boy. Someone that had been very important to her. Frustrated, she tried vainly to remember as the images faded into a hazy mist.
This was the first time she could ever remember having a dream. You know better than most why the Selenar do not dream, she heard a little voice say. You don't want to remember. You know how dangerous it is.
She recalled the tales told of Selenar driven mad by dreams of their victims. Dreams, it was said, that once seen could never be erased from
the mind's eye. So they were trained to forget and they were taught to discard; not just their dreams but anything that tied them to the world. Most Selenar preferred it that way, Arienel most of all.
So why then did she feel this dream to be so important? Why did the thought of forgetting now fill her with such a sense of loss?
It was this place, she decided angrily. It was the way the King Elessar had hugged her. For she knew now where she must be. She had seen the Elfstone. She knew about the King of Gondor. His victory over the Lord Sauron had made the life of the Selenar very hard indeed. Although they had survived, they existed now only in the shadow of their former glory.
It was the Elf she decided; the way he had looked at her and the fact that she could not forget it.
Why could she not forget?
I hate them both, she thought. But why should that be so? The Selenar did not feel anything so strong as hate. The Selenar did not feel at all.
She would think about this later, much later. She felt a deep desire to escape from this prison they had somehow trapped her in and to return to familiar ground. She wished for that very much. Later, when she was sure of her grounding once more, she would think about the irrational reactions this situation had prompted, process them and discard them as needed.
For now, she needed to make good her escape. Her head still felt light, but the severe pain had receded. She would not find herself on the floor again, of this she was certain.
Arienel slipped out of bed, shivering slightly as her bare feet touched the cold floor. Pull yourself together, she told herself sternly, THINK.
She needed clothes and weapons. Both of these she could obtain. There was bound to be a guard somewhere nearby. If this Valraen was as important to them as they pretended, they would not have left her room completely unprotected. She would simply slip behind the ill-fated man and… crack… clothes and weapons.
Satisfied that she was once again in full possession of her faculties, she moved towards the door. It was locked, as she had anticipated. So, she thought caustically, they do not trust this Valraen after all. They did not know the Captain of the Selenar, however. She did not rise to head of her order without being able to escape traps. There wasn't a door that existed that Arienel could not unlock, with or without a key. Grinning humourlessly, she checked the lock and frowned abruptly at what she saw there. This was not a lock she had seen before. Only one explanation presented itself to Arienel's mind, and that was impossible. Dwarves did not mix with the likes of men and elves, despite the old alliances. Without her tools, she had no hope of discovering the secrets to this lock.
Thrown, but not defeated, Arienel moved to the window at the other side of the room. She slid her fingers between the shutters and pushed. A mild breeze blew in as they swung open. Leaning out she could see a small ledge below running down the length of the outer wall. The ledge itself then dropped about three feet to the courtyard below.
Arienel grabbed hold of the top of the window and lifted herself up. She was in the process of lowering one leg onto the ledge outside, despite the danger of the drop, when another quite unprompted thought occurred to her.
You have panicked too soon, dear Captain and you have been blinded to what stares you in the face. You will never have this opportunity again.
The King. She was in the palace of the King of Gondor… and he had called her cousin.
Arienel swore softly as she lifted herself into the frame of the window once more and dropped soundlessly into the room. Her mission had been to find the sender of the letter, discover their purpose and then bury them. She had not completed her mission.
What's more, if the Master got word that she had been in a position to infiltrate the inner court of the King of Gondor and that she had tucked tail and run, her life would be forfeit.
She could not leave, regardless of whether she wanted to. Swallowing a feeling that felt strangely like foreboding and relief mixed together, Arienel slipped back into bed.
I will wait, she decided. I will plan…
… and when they step back through that door, I'll be ready for them.
***
Legolas gazed disbelievingly at the red book Aragorn had placed in his hands. "This cannot be," he whispered. "Aragorn, you told me this was lost."
"Forgive me, mellonamin," the King responded apologetically. "I would have not brought it out now, except that I thought it may help Valraen to remember."
Legolas looked up at his friend angrily.
Refusing to yield to his friend's cold stare, Aragorn walked over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Legolas, I know Valraen's loss hurt you deeply. At first, I thought this book, filled with the images and words my cousin had written for you, would bring you solace. But it did not." Aragorn sighed.
"Instead I saw you draw, day by day, more and more inward, until I feared that you would forsake life all together. I was afraid for you."
He looked at his friend pleadingly. "Believe me…" he said. "I would not have taken it, had I not thought it for the best."
"For the best?!" Legolas stepped back from his friend's touch.
"King or not," he said with a quiet rage, "You had NO right!"
"This book," Legolas said angrily, "Contains the last remnants of the woman I love. Even now, that she is found, it is all that remains of our love. Had I come between you and Arwen in such a fashion, our friendship would not have survived."
Aragorn flinched as he registered the truth of these words.
"Legolas…" he began edgily.
Not responding, Legolas turned to leave. He came to the exit and stopped, placing a hand tentatively on the frame of the doorway.
"Did she remember?" he asked softly, not looking back.
"She did not." Aragorn replied watching his friend's back tense at his words. "Amin hiraetha, mellonamin."
After hesitating for a moment, Legolas acknowledged this with the barest of nods and with that disappeared, leaving the King to his chaotic thoughts.
***
Much later, Legolas sat still and thoughtful beneath the shade of his favourite tree.
Opening the book to the first page, he ran his fingers tenderly over the fine handwriting.
Ten a' maelamin… For my beloved…
Closing his eyes, Legolas recalled the day she gave him the book… and the day he lost her forever.
"Legolas! Manke naa lle?! Come now, my Prince, I know you are up there somewhere. I can hear you breathing."
A cheeky laugh sounded from directly below his feet. "I may not have Elvish sight, but I am very good of hearing."
"Come, I have a present for you," the tinkling sound of her laughter filled the forest. "I promise you will like it."
Legolas smiled widely as he moved from branch to branch, evading her seeking eyes.
"Well a'maelamin… you know better than any how poorly I climb trees, but you leave me with no choice."
"Do I not?" Legolas whispered huskily in her ear from where he had dropped silently behind her.
She had jumped at least a foot high and then they had collapsed together onto the forest floor in peals of laughter.
Much later, after their laughter was spent and their hunger for each other satisfied, she had shown him the book.
"This if for you," she had said, much more solemnly than was usual.
Looking questioningly at her anxious face, he had taken the book from her and opened it up to the first page.
Ten a'maelamin… For my beloved…
Smiling at the her sudden stillness, he turned to the next page. The smile faded from his face. A picture of him, in such beautiful colours and with such skill that it seemed almost alive.
He looked at her in awe, thinking to compliment her on her skill but she had simply shaken her head and had said quietly, "No… there's more…"
Legolas turned the page again. This time a poem. The next page, a painting of the falls where they had first met. The next, a letter that she had written to him on the day of their first parting, when he had returned to Mirkwood and she had gone with Aragorn to Rivendell. A letter she had never sent.
And there was more – paintings, poems, letters, thoughts. Even the first flower he had given her, pressed reverently into the pages.
"Memories…" she had told him. "Of all our moments together… of our love… for when I am no longer with you… a'maelamin…"
Only after he had felt the tears in her eyes trace paths down his cheek had Legolas realised that he was weeping.
"Lle naa mela en' coiamin…" he had said, "And you will always be with me."
It was the last time he saw her.
***
Elvish translation c/- the Grey Company (www.grey-company.com)
Mellonamin = my friend
Amin hiraetha = I am sorry
Manke naa lle = Where are you
A'maelamin = My beloved
Lle naa mela en'coiamin = You are the love of my life