I'm going to see if I can do it this way and avoid the whole spacing problem with their quick edit option. Probably not, but I'll try.
Um… yeah, not much interest in the last chapter, and it's easy to see why. This one has a bit more meat to it, but may have more errors. Nea's computer's acting up, so she could only take a glancing look at it once I 'finished' it.
A hint at what Nenya is hiding comes along here.
Chapter 8It did not take more than a week or two for the elves that had traveled away from their home to feel comfortable in the series of flets. Soon they were running through the trees with more freedom than they usually had. In fact, there was little in the way of restrictions here, except for the whole not hunting without Nenya thing. That wasn't really a problem. She went about once a week normally, so she just changed her normal routine to include Dareklien and Legolas.
Still, practicing, walking through the trees, getting to know some of the darkness during the light of day, eating, drinking and telling stories of the forest to Nenya at night only contented them for so long.
Legolas was sent to find her again after they began to think this was all they were going to do. "But—"
"No, Leaf. She talked to you last time."
He sighed and looked above them. He could see a falcon, but after a moment identified it as Zetea, Argile's mate. She helped him out without knowing it, crying out what he had come to consider a 'where are you?'. Argile soon answered her, his voice coming from one of the flets Nenya hadn't shown them to.
He hesitated only a moment, because there were about four such flets and only two had been claimed as her exclusive property. Well, four he knew of. They were hidden so well in the trees that there could be many more.
He pushed the leaves aside and stepped in, calling her name softly.
Nenya sighed and looked up at him. She was laying on her stomach on the floor of the flet, a book in front of her. "What do you need, Legolas?"
"Information," he answered, looking quizzically around. A true wall existed on two sides of this flet, like on the three storage flets above the kitchen. Also like those, it had a permanent roof. Against one of those walls was a bookshelf, filled with books. He realized then that he had kind of thought she couldn't read, which really made no sense when he considered she wrote his father a letter once a year.
When he thought about that he realized he had a lot of things to ask her. But first things first. "When are we going to do something productive?"
"Productive? What do you want to do?"
"Hunt spiders."
She shook her head. "They are calm now. There have been no attacks or even sightings since I arrived at the palace."
He didn't bother to ask how she knew. She wouldn't tell him. "Then why are we here? Taking a few months away from our families for the sheer joy of living in the trees?"
"All wood-elves enjoy such a life once they adjust to it."
"I am not completely a wood-elf, and even wood-elves have duties and responsibilities to their families."
"You wish to go back, then?"
He hesitated. He wanted to see his father and his little sister again, but he did enjoy it out here. If it weren't for the threat of spiders, he would have been happy here. But the threat was there, and it made him unwilling to relax for very long. "I wish to be productive," he finally answered. "The threat remains."
"The threat, as you put it, has been there for thousands of years. A few attacks more or less hasn't changed the fact that there are spiders in these woods."
"But now the threat is greater."
"The threat is the same," she countered, shifting to her feet, returning the book to an empty spot on a shelf. "You perceive it differently."
He sighed, closing his eyes for an instant in pure exasperation. "Why do you insist on battling with words?"
"Do you dislike it? Your speech is very incorrect, Legolas. You must be precise as a leader."
"You should also be willing to impart pertinent information to your subordinates."
"Key word being pertinent. You know all you must."
"All I must, perhaps, but not all I would wish."
"And why would you wish to know more than you must? Such is the thought of a fool."
"One who is not content with his lot as a fool and wishes to gain knowledge in the hopes that his increase of knowledge will one day lead him to wisdom!" Legolas closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath that calmed him a lot less than he had been hoping it would.
When he reopened his eyes, it was to see an approving smile flicker over her lips. "Very good," she praised softly, starlight dancing in her eyes. "Let me impart a bit of knowledge now, and then I will leave you to consider it. Or rather, you will leave." She lifted a brow, informing him of the order even as she drew closer, already moving him towards the door. "You should beware the advice of the wise and the rich. They do not seek company."
He dug his heels in. "Do you like being out here alone?"
"If I didn't, I would—"
"No, you wouldn't." He cut her off before she could say she would move, and frowned at her. "You like being out here, that's not what I asked. I asked if you like being out here alone."
Her eyes fell from his, and she stepped away from him, moving absently to the book shelf. She traced a finger along one of the old spines. "I haven't any choice," she murmured softly after a while.
"Why not? You don't think you could build a serious of flets as impressive as this near other elves?"
"No. I don't think any elves would want to be near me." Her eyes moved to his, and he was pinned in place for a long moment.
"Why?" he asked softly after that moment.
She smiled faintly, a small, bitter smile. "You tell me. Everyone here has already made up their lives, excluding me from all but the stories at night, which they began to halt their fears, and only continue because now that they know so many are false, they wish to learn the truth. I am their teacher."
"You drew yourself away from us. From the very beginning you have held yourself apart, as if you fancy yourself above us, beyond us."
All traces of life left her eyes for a moment, the slight glitter of light within them fading, leaving them a cold, empty black. She sighed softly and shook her head. "It cannot be helped."
"Why not?" he asked, coming closer.
She glanced up, not really seeing him. "Elves will always wish me set apart, when they know the truth."
"What truth?" he murmured, becoming exasperated, and concerned. Their ever-vigilant leader seemed to be slipping out of reach into some self-created cage. He was reaching out, trying to keep her with them, but she was as elusive as ever, giving him a faint smile before she turned away, answering a call from Ertelen that they join the others for dinner and stories.
He shook his head slightly when he received several questioning looks from the others. They sighed or smiled, depending on their annoyance verses enjoyment ratios. When they had finished eating, they all settled down in the big flet, and turned to Oleydya, for it was her turn to come up with a story, tale or idea that wood-elves carried with them of the forest.
"Um," she murmured with a frown. Her eyes lit up suddenly. "How about wood-men having wolves as pets?"
Legolas and Ertelen shook their heads. "They have dogs, Leyda," Ertelen murmured.
"Though they may have some wolf in them, they are not wolves," Legolas added. As both knew members of the guard who were often in contact with the wood-men, they heard the truer stories.
She shrugged and looked at Miranol, who tilted his head forward, causing his hair to cover his ears, which were flushed with his embarrassment. "Well, I remember my gram telling me about the spider witch."
The three guys shook their heads at him, but Oleydya leaned forward. "Spider witch?" she asked, clearly having not heard this one.
Any tale untold, true or believed false, could be repeated without shame, so Miranol nodded his head and relaxed a bit to tell the story. "It's said that a she-elf went into the forest and was attacked by spiders. She beat them back, and wounded a very young spider without killing it, but killed the others. She left it. Later, I don't know how long, she came across the spider again. The spider started to attack, but then didn't, going along her way as if she hadn't seen the she-elf. This continued for a while, but one day the spider and the elf met when there were other spiders around. The other spiders attacked, and the elf fought back. The spider was attacked for not assisting even as the fight wore on, and was slowly bleeding to death as the elf finished the last of them off. The elf drank some of the spider's blood, and gave the spider some of her own, forging a link which saved the spider's life. Ever after, they were sisters in blood, and were as aunts to the other's children. But the elf was changed, became more and more like a spider. They say she hides herself in the forest so the elves won't see her and kill her, mistaking her for a spider."
Dareklien shook his head. "How you can believe that enough to repeat it?"
"My gram—"
"It's true."
Two words, but the entire group, who had been getting up into arms to defend or refute the story, the entire group went still, and looked over at Nenya. She was sitting on one of the branches that made up the semi-wall, her bare feet tucked beneath her, her dark hair being shifted by a faint breeze, her face seeming as white as her hair was dark as she looked up at the stars. She turned to them, some of her hair crossing her face, the darkness there rivaling with the darkness of her eyes.
"What?" Legolas managed after a moment.
"It's true. Except that she believed she would be mistaken for a spider. No elf could ever be mistaken for a spider."
"Is she around here?"
"She left the forest long ago."
"Did you know her?"
"Yes," Nenya murmured, before shifting her weight slightly, going from sitting to walking in a single, agile move, out of sight before they could think to move.