"How are you this morning?" Leherim asked gently, bringing the tray into the room with as little noise and fuss as she could manage. The guard locked the door behind her and went back to standing watch without a word.
The she-elf looked up at her, blinked and looked away, but otherwise remained as she was, curled into a tight ball beneath the heavy wood table which stood against the far wall.
"I brought some breakfast for us both. I hope you don't mind if I eat with you." Leherim spoke for the sake of speaking, since she never got any sort of response whatsoever, and sat on the bed, placing the tray beside her, picking up her plate as the she-elf warily approached from the corner beneath the table, walking crouched low on all fours. Every few moments she stopped to search the room rapidly, as if expecting things to have changed, or for some unknown assailant to appear from the stone.
Light grey eyes flickered to the plate, and then back to Leherim's face, and slowly the elf crept closer, until she was at the edge of the bed. Leherim waited as the she-elf with painful slowness climbed onto the bed, reaching her hand hesitantly out to the food before snatching it back the instant the long, nimble fingers had fastened on a piece of bread. Then the she-elf backed up, sat on her heels a few feet from the bed, chewing the bread thoughtfully, holding it so like a squirrel that under other circumstances Leherim would have laughed at the sight.
Things were definitely improving. The first meal Leherim had brought in had elicited nothing from the elf, even when Leherim had left. Five minutes later she returned to find the dishes precisely as she had left them.
Breakfast the next morning had been just as grand a disaster. Nothing was touched. It didn't look like she had even bothered to climb onto the bed to take a look. After that, she left the tray on the floor, but still, everything was precisely as it had been when she left. Leherim had brought her worries to her brother after a few such horribly unaccepted meals. Legolas had frowned and looked towards the room as if he could see the she-elf through the halls and corridors that separated them with many thick feet of solid stone. "Perhaps you should eat with her," he suggested after a moment, his eyes pained.
That had worked, though it made an appalled Leherim angry and equally pained that the elf believed she would be poisoned in the palace, which she figured now was what had darkened Legolas's eyes, though he hadn't said anything about it. That the elf believed she would be poisoned was bad enough, but the palace was a haven for all… who didn't come as prisoners, that is.
While the she-elf wasn't exactly a prisoner, she wasn't exactly a guest, either, since guests were generally left entirely on their own, and expected to eat in the great hall or make their own arrangements with the staff. Guests also tended to walk upright and speak.
But, all in all, eating with her had worked, for she would eat what was on the tray, though it had taken many troubling days for her to eat with Leherim in the room. Even then Leherim had been forced to set the plate in front of the she-elf on the floor and back away.
After nearly ninety meals the she-elf would come to the foot of the bed for the food, but this morning was the first time she had actually reached for the food that was sitting beside Leherim. She had taken some at dinner the night before, but it had been pushed to the edge of the bed where she didn't have to get up onto the bed to get any food. As soon as she had some she had skittered back to her corner.
Yes, this was a definite improvement.
"I brought another bunch of keys today," Leherim murmured at last, dusting off her hands. "Will you let me try some?"
Legolas had been searching the palace for keys, and had hounded the smiths for any designs they had ever crafted for restraints. Because of his single-minded devotion to the only contact the she-elf would allow him without causing her to start trembling, Leherim had a basketful of keys, and a very disturbed brother. Every time he came in to see how their charge was the she-elf would get to her corner if she could, and would huddle there until he left. If he came closer she would cover herself with her hands, or, if she was unable to do that, she would turn her head, her eyes going slightly glassy, as if she could force herself into a sleep-like state on command. And every time she cowered or shut herself away from the world, Legolas was hurt just a little bit more.
Of course, had she said anything, he would have denied it.
But she didn't need to ask. She could see in his eyes that he wanted to do anything he could to help the poor elf, and hated every quiver, every shake that his mere presence or voice caused, sometimes even before he entered the room.
As Leherim spoke, the elf crawled back up onto the bed to get a second piece of bread, but hesitated for a moment, her fingers hovering over the plate, and chose differently instead.
"I wondered when you would be sick of bread," Leherim murmured with a slight smile. "If you do well with that, perhaps by supper I can get you some meat."
The she-elf watched her for the longest time, chewing silently, seeming to savor the new flavor and texture.
"Can I try to get those shackles off?" Leherim asked, withdrawing the keys Legolas had said would be most likely to work of the newest ones he had bought her.
At the sight of the keys, the she-elf slid backwards a bit, sitting down heavily with an utterly perplexed look on her face, but as soon as Leherim touched the chain the elf stayed perfectly still, letting Leherim try key after key in the shackle about the boney wrist. Finally one clicked, and slowly the device released the captive hand.
Immediately the she-elf cradled the freed hand with her other one, rubbing at the skin which had worn red, soothing the cuts and welts as best she could.
"Can I try the other one now?" Leherim asked, slowly scooting forward.
The she-elf tensed, but remained where she was, her legs drawn to her chest as she crouched, ready to flee if given reason. With excruciating slowness Leherim moved to her side and lifted her hand, watching as the darkening eyes flickered rapidly for every move, occasionally checking the rest of the room as if expecting other elves to come forth when she least expected it.
Which was never. Leherim had yet to see a time when she wasn't like that, so over alert and poised to either flee, cower, or slip into the semi-sleep state that so pained Legolas. Knowing the she-elf never did that to escape Leherim didn't help him accept it in the least.
The key slipped into the harness, and was trying to stick, but since it worked for the wrist shackle, Leherim wasn't going to give up easily. She turned harder, applying more strength than really made sense, and finally, the she-elves heard a soft click before they both exhaled. Leherim carefully removed the metal, seeing some hair she had been unable to trim, and some places that needed a good cleaning, not to mention medicinal care.
The she-elf scooted slightly away at once, but was too occupied by running her freed hands through her hair, over her delicately tipped ears, and down her neck before returning to bother with getting off the bed. Leherim looked at the device as the she-elf checked her freedom. It was made so it not only went around her neck, but over the top of her head as well, hiding her ears. If it hadn't slipped slightly when the she-elf was knocked out, Leherim wouldn't have known she was an elf.
The faintest smile crossed the she-elf's face for the birth of an instant, dying before Leherim could complete the transmission of it to Legolas. She smiled.
I'm glad one worked.
How long those were on her I shudder to think.
She felt his sympathy in her mind before he slipped out, turning his thoughts back to whatever their father had wanted him in the throne room for. Leherim picked the hated metal up and shook her head. "Legolas will have this destroyed by nightfall, no doubt," she muttered softly, holding it well away from her.
The she-elf paused and tilted her head at Leherim, who took it as a question.
"Legolas is my brother. The elf that sometimes comes in with me?" Leherim added. "He found the keys for you." And drove half the palace staff nuts doing it.
The she-elf frowned at the bedspread, her fingers idly tracing some of its lines.
"You have time, don't worry. I'll be back at lunch, but first, I want to ask you something. Have you a name?" Leherim nibbled on the inside of her lower lip as she got absolutely no response. "I am Leherim." She murmured, touching her chest. "Who are you?"
The elf looked at her for a long moment, and then turned her head to the side disinterestedly.
Leherim sighed and shook her head. "Then we shall have to give you one." She closed her eyes for an instant, pulling Legolas out of whatever he was trying to say.
Which irritated him, of course. What!?!
She needs a name.
Everyone does, sister dear. Couldn't this have waited?
I want her to have one now.
And you couldn't think of one?
I thought you would like to have a chance to add in your opinion. You would hassle me terribly if I gave her a name without consulting you.
She could feel him chuckle. True. He was silent for a moment, then she felt him smile faintly. Mirimir.
Mirimir?
Why not?
She blinked. Why not? Mirimir it is, if she doesn't object. "I've spoken to Legolas, and he suggests Mirimir," she murmured.
The she-elf blinked in what Leherim took to be shock.
She smiled. "Legolas and I were always close. We have been able to reach each other's mind quite easily since we were both considered far too young for such. Some think I was supposed to have been his twin. Others say since we were born only a few years apart we may as well have been twins." Leherim smiled again. "Will Mirimir do?"
The she-elf tilted her head, then looked down and took another piece of food from the plate.
Well, no objections that I can see.
In the throne room Legolas smiled faintly, absently aware his smile and absentmindedness were hardly appropriate. He was also aware everyone currently present knew of his connection with Leherim, and her tendency to pop in whenever she felt like it, with often the silliest little questions or comments. It was quite handy when he was on patrol and the palace received some information about a planned attack. She had once been able to reach him and the information had kept him out of a trap which would have been sprung had they attempted any other method of reaching him, but some times it was annoying.
"What is it this time?" one of the advisors asked, a faint smile in his eyes as the others blinked and waited for Legolas's attention to return entirely to the discussion at hand. The discussion he had been leading until he blinked and frowned slightly, falling silent as his eyes stopped focusing on the room around him.
He smiled faintly, lowering his eyes. "The she-elf has just been bestowed the name Mirimir."
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And… no one's reading this.
If someone is reading it, let me know. I know the beginning is slow, but if no one reviews soon, I will take this story off-line.