Chapter Two
Remelith's husband was in his study, writing. *May the Valar give me strength,* she thought. She took a deep breath, steadying herself, before she stepped inside. "Demeron, may I speak with you please?"
He didn't even look up. "Certainly, as soon as I finish writing this letter to Thranduil."
"And what, exactly, are you writing to him about?" she asked. She knew that her husband and Thranduil had been close friends when he was a member of the royal guard, but she had a feeling that the letter concerned more than just matters of their friendship.
"I am requesting that a room be prepared for Calathi in the palace. I do not wish for her arrival to be a surprise, and I would like to know that she was well cared for," he answered.
Remelith was silent for a moment, pushing away her frustration so that it wouldn't affect her thinking. "Wouldn't you also like to know that she was happy?" she asked.
At this, Demeron looked up, a surprised look in his blue-gray eyes. "What is that supposed to mean?" he demanded angrily.
"You know, husband, that she would rather be a warrior in the royal guard than princess of all of Mirkwood. Yet you still force her to be what she is least?"
"She is of noble blood, and as such it is her duty to become a lady of the court, whether or not she wants to!" he retorted. "She would never be accepted otherwise. Women are not meant to be warriors!"
"She is as strong and skilled as any other elf in Ilinar, and still you continue to say that she is not worthy of such a position! Do you love her? Or are you only forcing her to do this in order to advance your standings at court?" Remelith inquired.
Demeron stood up. "How dare you say that I do this for my own good? I want her to be safe from the horrors of war. Of course I love her, she is the greatest gift I have ever received!"
"Then I beseech you husband, do not push her to become what she does not want to be." Remelith turned and indignantly strode out of the room, leaving her husband staring after her. *Oh, for the sake of Calathi, let him understand, * she thought. With a sigh, she walked down the hall in the direction of her bedroom and prepared to sleep.
Remelith's husband was in his study, writing. *May the Valar give me strength,* she thought. She took a deep breath, steadying herself, before she stepped inside. "Demeron, may I speak with you please?"
He didn't even look up. "Certainly, as soon as I finish writing this letter to Thranduil."
"And what, exactly, are you writing to him about?" she asked. She knew that her husband and Thranduil had been close friends when he was a member of the royal guard, but she had a feeling that the letter concerned more than just matters of their friendship.
"I am requesting that a room be prepared for Calathi in the palace. I do not wish for her arrival to be a surprise, and I would like to know that she was well cared for," he answered.
Remelith was silent for a moment, pushing away her frustration so that it wouldn't affect her thinking. "Wouldn't you also like to know that she was happy?" she asked.
At this, Demeron looked up, a surprised look in his blue-gray eyes. "What is that supposed to mean?" he demanded angrily.
"You know, husband, that she would rather be a warrior in the royal guard than princess of all of Mirkwood. Yet you still force her to be what she is least?"
"She is of noble blood, and as such it is her duty to become a lady of the court, whether or not she wants to!" he retorted. "She would never be accepted otherwise. Women are not meant to be warriors!"
"She is as strong and skilled as any other elf in Ilinar, and still you continue to say that she is not worthy of such a position! Do you love her? Or are you only forcing her to do this in order to advance your standings at court?" Remelith inquired.
Demeron stood up. "How dare you say that I do this for my own good? I want her to be safe from the horrors of war. Of course I love her, she is the greatest gift I have ever received!"
"Then I beseech you husband, do not push her to become what she does not want to be." Remelith turned and indignantly strode out of the room, leaving her husband staring after her. *Oh, for the sake of Calathi, let him understand, * she thought. With a sigh, she walked down the hall in the direction of her bedroom and prepared to sleep.