DIVERSION
My lord's instruction is very clear. I am to stay at the balcony while he and my brothers converse inside. Inside is a library walled by a thin sheet of sandalwood with intricate designs of flowers and Sindarin graffiti. This wall is what stands between them and me. With this distance and with my elven ear, it is preposterous not to hear every single detail of their conversation. Yet I am forbidden to listen to it.
"Trust me, I know his heart more than any of you here."
"His bow is as sharp as his eye! How can he not be trusted with such skill of a master?"
"Do you doubt my words and on my face?"
"But my lord, he thinks himself prisoner.."
Silence. Even this comes too clear for my hearing. How can I claim loyalty if I can not bring myself to obey my adar's words?
"He is not a prisoner and you know that well. He is happy with me, with us and the entire Silvan folks he has grown up with and has come to love."
"He needs to learn how to fight in the real battle."
"Battle? Who says we're at war?"
"You know it, Adar."
"He shall not be spoiled with the horror of it."
Am I meant to hear this all? What has my adar done that I am unable to honor his word? Think. Ai. Where shall I bring my mind? To Lorthlorien? To Rivendell? Does Lorthlorien have river like Mirkwood? Do elves there still live on trees? Are their trees golden as what the myth says? Are they as tall and robust as Mirkwood trees? Are their barks rough and thick and trunk sat with the heaviness of age? Do they make grumbling, hollow sound that seems to come from some deep cave? Is there agony on it? Fear?
I need not to be reminded on how grave the evil that has come to this forest. With these trees surrounding us, their desperation in their every whisper, in their every murmur, and in their every song is palpable. It does not fail to dampen my spirit. And yet they remain on guard, lining the peripheral of my lord's realm, alerting us to any commotion may be deemed threatening or not. Even the great stream that flows from the cave partially hidden behind two gigantic trunks has its music turn into dirge. What is next? Is our air be poisoned as well? Here comes fungo, my lizard friend. Why has he changed his skin so suddenly that he fails to acknowledge my presence? His color now matches the color of the stone he is now resting. Here comes the sound again. The mingled cry of trees, birds, stream, and any other living creatures in this dark forest sends shivers at the tip of my ear. Warm air swishes across my cheek, and I turn at a time when a hand falls on my shoulder. Adar.
"I see you learn my lesson."
"Lesson? The forest signals for an intruder. Is that it"
"Ah. Of course, you know that. But I meant the other.
I just stare at him with my mouth open. I don't want to ask him what he just meant by it. His kind eyes see me again, and this time with understanding of my predicament. 'Please don't think of me stupid'
"I sent your brothers to inspect it," he says.
Without hesitation I stare directly to where these intruders may have been camping. But they are not visible. We are so deep in the forest that it is difficult to see any passersby. But one thing I am certain. They are more than a pair of feet. There is no clumsiness in each pace they make. There is swiftness too. Their feet are not heavy, but rather...
"Like an elf," says my lord.
"Like an elf. Do you think some elves would pass by this forest, Adar?"
He smiles. "Only the fool ones, "he says.
The tip of my ear again picks up another sound. This one is what frightened the forest a while ago. "There's another."
"There is always another. Mirkwood is big. There is always creature roaming everywhere."
"They might be orcs, or worse Urukhais."
"Believe me, they are. But worry not, their size never grows any bigger."
"Why?"
"For the great many of them have their attention somewhere else."
He has been in Mirkwood for many times already. This forest has become his sojourn whenever he feels lonely, his elven upbringing makes him closer to nature. But he has come to this forest to muse as well; however never has he trod on King Thranduil's place without Gandalf. The King is still wary of his nature. He has never gotten used to him in the company of elves. In Thranduil's eye he is still human.
