NOTE: three lines in this chapter are in memory of Mr. Flanagan, my wonderful English teacher from this past spring semester at my college, and the play from which they were inspired, The Glass Menagerie.Miriellar, I wasn't upset, the exclamation point was for my surprise, not anger. I was simply astonished, more so when sofia said the same thing. Anyway, here is a new chapter. Enjoy!
Chapter Nine: Síriel Speaks of her Past
Síriel awoke the following morning to two pairs of voices whispering softly in the kitchen. The pain and wound in her thigh vanished. Celebrindal had done a good job tending to her wound. She rose slowly on her feet and tested her leg to see if it would support her.
"Síriel?"
Her sire came into the sitting room, followed by Prince Legolas.
"Maer aur, Síriel." Legolas told her with a smile.
The maiden replied with a shy smile.
"How do you feel this morning?" her sire asked.
"Very well. The pain is gone, and so is the wound." she replied.
She took a small step, fearing the worst, yet her leg supported her. So she was going to walk normally after all. That was good. She feared she would be walking with a limp for the rest of her life.
"Shall I prepare the morning meal?" she asked.
"You should do that. But hurry if you can. Let us not keep the Prince waiting." her sire replied.
"I have already eaten." Legolas said.
"Nonsense. You will not regret eating with us. Trust me."
Síriel laughed silently to herself. Her sire could not pass up the opportunity to praise her. She went about her task of preparing food. Half an hour later, the three Elves were seated around the small table, helping themselves to the morning meal Síriel had prepared.
"No doubt it is not as grand as what you are used to at the palace." Gil-celeb said. "Our sincerest apologies."
"It tastes much better. That is most important." Legolas said.
After the meal was over, Gil-celeb rose and excused himself.
"There is much work today. Síriel, I excuse you from helping me. You should rest and recover fully. I will not need you." he said.
Síriel nodded.
"As you wish, sire. Here, I have prepared your afternoon meal," she said, handing him a small basket. "Give my regards to the others."
Gil-celeb bowed to Legolas before leaving.
"It was kind of you to come, ernil." Síriel said.
Legolas smiled.
"It was nothing. I had hoped, actually, to meet you since the incident at the feast. You intrigue me." he told her.
Síriel looked at him.
"No doubt you thought it strange that a maiden who seemingly appears to be elven has copper-red hair, green eyes, and skin that is a golden-bronze hue. That was what attracted Celebrindal to me." she said.
Legolas nodded.
"I do not wish to be rude. It is mere curiosity." he told her.
Síriel smiled.
"I do not mind if someone asks me. In fact, I love that. But what I do mind is when no one asks, preferring to remain ignorant. Or when people think they are above me because I am half-elven. It was not my choice. I was born this way. One cannot choose his parents, just as one cannot choose what kind of life they want." she said.
"What kind of life do you want?" Legolas asked.
"To be respected and loved. My sire thinks that every insult thrown at me does not affect me, but it does. I do not show it, but inwardly I am grieved. To be different to most people here is a sin. I do not want him to feel guilty about this because he brought me to live with him.
"You see, I did not live with him at first. I was born among the Beornings. My mother was of them. She met my sire when she was once here visiting. He fell in love with her, and asked her to wed him. She accepted, as she was always fascinated with Elves. My sire brought her here at first to live with him, but she suffered so much ridicule. So he took her to Lake-town. Then he asked your sire if he could be one of the rafters so he could visit her whenever he went there. When my mother went back to visit her family, she gave birth to me there.
"I grew up with my mother in Lake-town. I went several times as a young girl to visit my relatives, the Beornings. I learned everything about them: their language and culture. Then when mother died, since she was a mortal, my sire brought me here to live with him."
Legolas listened intently to her.
"Have you no friends other than Celebrindal?" he asked.
A dark look passed over Síriel's face.
"I did, once, before I met her. I never liked much the company of Elves, most of them being too proud and scorning me. Yet my sire insisted that I befriend some maidens my age. He took me to all these feasts and gatherings just for that purpose. Your sire tried to ease the hardship I faced, for I often confided to him things I did not tell my sire. So he introduced me to some daughters of his advisors. They seemed nice, and for the first hundred years, we seemed to be the best of friends. I often went out of my way and spent what little money I had to buy them nice gifts to prove that I truly loved them. I even attempted to dress like them as best as I could. To me, there was no life but the life of the elite. I would come home feeling ashamed. I led a double life and was miserable.
"Then, one day, there was a grand feast. I was making my way towards my friends when I overheard them saying how much they hated me because I am a half Elf. They went on and on about how they forced themselves to like me only because they had to and how they felt superior to me because their sires were advisors and my sire was a mere rafter. They completely mocked me. After that, I have kept out of their way. I lost my respect for everyone save your sire because all I received from most everyone was mockery and ridicule. Only he proved to me to be unlike everyone else, which he is, I hope." she said.
Legolas was silent for some time.
"I understand you completely, Síriel. My dearest friend, Gimli, is a Dwarf. He was one of my companions on the Quest. At first, we detested each other, for there is a mutual agreement of hatred between Elves and Dwarves. Yet, after awhile, I began to realize that he is just like me. We both have feelings, families, culture, and heritage. We are both people, undoubtedly different, but people nonetheless." Legolas said.
Síriel looked at Legolas.
"That is what most everyone does not understand. Because I am different, I must not be like them. I must not have the same rights as everyone else. They think I do not have feelings at all, like some mere animal. Yet even animals have feelings. If they only took the time to ask and understand, they would be proven otherwise. Yet they do not care at all. Not everyone has treated me so, only a precious few have been kind to me. Your sire is one of them, and I am glad that he is. I am pleased that you understand, ernil." she said. "I have been forced to feel ashamed of myself. I hate the way I look. I regard myself as an Elf, but what Elf has skin that is golden-bronze in color?" she told him.
"Do not be ashamed of yourself, Síriel. Be proud. You are unique, unlike everyone else, and that makes you special. Everyone else has white skin, but what does it matter? They are all the same, all copies of each other. But you are different. You are golden-bronze." Legolas said.
"But that is wrong for an Elf!"
"But perfect for you! Do you not see?"
Síriel smiled.
"I see, ernil. I see more than you know. I see that you are unlike most elite Elves I have met here. You understand me." she said.
Sindarin Translation:
Maer aur: good morning