Chapter Twelve
Idrial made her way quietly through the halls. It was dark and no doubt most of the palace residents were asleep. By right, I should be as well, she thought to herself. But no matter how hard she had tried, she could not find the peaceful elven dreams she usually found while sleeping. Elrohir's words had kept her awake for two nights now.
"You and Luthin seem very close, but I have yet to see you and Kelderas say one word to each other."
She had spent most of her time thinking about her eldest brother. They had been close once, extremely close. When they were still young, they had been the best of friends. Growing up, he had always protected her and vice versa. When Kelderas had started training to be a warrior, she'd helped him the best she could. She'd make sure there was a bath waiting for him when he returned from practice. She helped him with lessons when he was too tired to concentrate. She had even helped him craft arrows. And when he had been promoted to lieutenant of a patrol, she written to him about home and sent him gifts to keep his spirits high. When Kelderas became a captain, he had been assigned to the palace guard and they spent all of their time discussing what was happening within the palace. There was never a secret between the two.
When their Naneth had died, it was like she didn't know Kelderas anymore. He was a different person, one she had grown distant from. She didn't know why they had stopped talking, for every time she thought back on it, there was no person she should have gone to more for comfort than her eldest brother. Instead, she had gone to no one. She'd comforted herself by comforting others and had accepted no comfort for herself. Self-dependence, it was something she had grown to believe in.
Idrial came to a door and brought her hand up to knock, but she hesitated. A sudden surge of fear ran through her. What if he wouldn't accept her? What if he no longer wanted that sibling bond they once had? He had pushed Adar away, why not push her away as well? Perhaps that was what he had already done. He hadn't come to her anymore than she'd gone to him. She shook her head. That was nonsense. They were both grieving. They needed each other now more than ever.
Pushing herself, she knocked quietly on the door and then put her head close to listen for a response. At first there was nothing, but when she went to knock again, the door opened slightly and Kelderas' face appeared in the space. Idrial fought to find words to say to him, but now that she was here, she could think of nothing. Why had she come? To talk, but about what?
To her relief, Kelderas opened his bedroom door all the way and stepped aside to let her in. She pulled herself together and walked into the bedroom she had come to know so well. During storms, she had often snuck into Kelderas' room to sleep out the rest of her night safely protected by him. She looked around. The room had changed, it seemed darker. She took in the sight of her brother. His dark hair hung about his face and his nightshirt and leggings were ruffled as though he had been tossing and turning most of the night. Apparently, he hadn't gotten any sleep either.
"Kelderas…" She tried to find words to say, but still none came to her.
Kelderas paused for only a moment before walking to a table in his room and pouring both of them a glass of wine. He handed her a glass and then sat down on the bed, motioning with his eyes for her to do the same. Then he downed his wine and threw the cup off to the side, where it rolled and came to rest against the wall.
Idrial, holding the cup in both hands, sat down next to her brother and took a sip. She stared at the opposite wall, the awkward silence between them apparent to her nervousness. She sighed, downed the wine, and set the cup down next to his bed. Then, she closed her eyes, gave a soft sigh, and looked to Kelderas. She found him watching her, waiting for her to say something.
"I've missed you," she said finally. Kelderas' stern face softened suddenly and he looked away from her, his shoulders slumping as he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. He seemed to be thinking. "I hear you are staying home from the patrol," she pressed, not knowing what else to talk about. "Perhaps while you are home, you could help me with my sword work. I know Adar doesn't want me to practice with swords, but I just thought…"
"I pulled my knife on Luthin today."
There was a heavy silence that followed the words. Idrial stared at the side of Kelderas' face, which had hardened like a rock. She couldn't read the emotions there and he only stared at the wall, expressionless. At first, she thought she had heard him wrong. But as she thought about the words, they seemed clearer and clearer, ringing in her ears like the sour note off an untuned harp. He stomach clenched as her mind pictured what he said. She could see Luthin's worried face at dinner, as he ate quietly. She could see Kelderas sitting opposite him, lost in his own world. She had known something was wrong, but had brushed it aside as being from the loss of their naneth. Never had she imagined it was something like this.
"What?" she asked, just to make sure she had heard him right.
"I pulled my knife on Luthin," Kelderas repeated. "Well, almost pulled. We were fighting. I got angry. I've been trying to convince myself that I wouldn't have used it. I wouldn't have driven it into him. But now, I'm not so sure. I lost myself, Idrial."
Idrial could only stare. The knowledge that she had almost lost her younger brother at the hands of her older brother was making her breaths come in short wisps. She looked away from Kelderas and rose to her feet, making for the door. This isn't happening. She thought to herself.
"Do you think I should sail?"
The question froze Idrial in her tracks. She turned slowly to look at Kelderas and let out a sob when she saw that her brother was in tears. She watched as a few of the tears spilled over, slowly etching their way down his cheeks to find themselves dripping onto the floor. Idrial couldn't move. She couldn't find it in her to go to his side, feeling betrayed by him ten times over. He had almost killed their brother and now he was thinking of abandoning them? She wanted to hate him. She wanted to hate him for everything he was doing to them. But she found herself wanting to hate herself as well, for letting him sink this low into despair alone.
"I should have been with her that day, Idrial," he whispered as more tears slipped through his eyes.
Idrial suddenly found herself moving and she ran to embrace her brother, stroking the side of his head. "Shush now, you couldn't have known what was going to happen, none of us did…"
"No!" Kelderas pushed her away and held the sides of her head, startling her but she held her ground. He looked angry now, but his anger wasn't towards her, it was towards himself. "I was suppose to escort her. I was suppose to meet her and bring her back safely. But I didn't! I sent two of my warriors to do it instead while I was here, courting some stupid ellyth!" Idrial tried to shake her head, but Kelderas' hands held it in place. "I could have stopped it! By right, it should have been me who died!" Kelderas yelled, suddenly letting go of her and standing up. He paced the room. "By right, I should be in the Halls."
"Stop it!" Idrial found herself screaming. The yell make Kelderas startle and he turned to look at his sister. Idrial felt fury raging up inside her, making her face red and tears spill from her eyes. "Do we mean nothing to you? Do you think one little mistake will make us push you away? If you had gone, we would have lost Naneth and you…what then? What would we have done then?"
"I could have saved her!" Kelderas screamed back at her.
"No!" She screamed, throwing a fist at his chest. He stared at her in stunned silence. "You're being a fool! There are no what ifs with death. Judgment is not ours to give. What has happened has happened and no matter what you think nothing will change that. You have to stop this Kelderas, you have to stop the blame and the guilt. It is destroying us, your family. It's destroying you!"
Kelderas shook his head. "What do I do then? What do I have left if not my guilt?"
"Us!" Idrial yelled, pushing him again, but this time he didn't react. "You have us you fool! Your family! We need you here…" She sobbed and put a hand to her mouth, staring at Kelderas, whose tears had stopped as he looked upon his sister. "I just want my brother back…" she whispered.
Kelderas' face fell and he rushed forward to embrace her. She cried into his shoulder for a few minutes and then pulled away. She felt his hand stroke her hair and when she looked into his face, she saw a look that she had not seen since the passing of their mother. She watched him for a few minutes, waiting for him to speak.
"I've been gone, haven't I?" he whispered, meeting her eyes. When she nodded he smiled and stroked her hair again. "I have been a fool. I will always carry the guilt with me," he confessed.
"But you do not have to despair so," Idrial said, stroking his arm in return. "You are one of the greatest elves that I have ever known. And I want you back. I do not think you should sail unless you truly believe that there is not a life left for you here. But please first consider that I am here, Adar is here, Luthin is here, and Legolas is here and does not blame you at all. He worships you and still loves you, as we all do."
Kelderas was quiet for a moment. The soft sound of rain suddenly filled the room and a few seconds later, thunder quaked in the distance. He closed his eyes for a few minutes and Idrial almost despaired when she thought she hadn't gotten through to him. But when he opened his eyes, she saw a smile creep into his eyes. "There is a life for me here," he whispered. "I have been missing it. Idrial…will you help bring me back?"
Idrial let out a laugh and playfully slapped him on the shoulder before hugging him. "Of course," she said into his chest. "I will always bring you back."
The thunder woke him, but it was not what had made his heart race uncontrollably. He had dreamt again, of the orcs, of Naneth. Legolas held his blanket close to his chin and stared at the ceiling, trying desperately to convince himself that should he fall asleep again, there would be peaceful dreams instead of the nightmares. But, he could not convince himself of thus. He thought about going to Glorfindel's sleeping chambers, to make sure that the elder elf was not having nightmares as well, but thought against it for he knew that Glorfindel was tired and should sleep. All great warriors needed sleep, that's what Glorfindel had told him when he had asked to stay up that night and listen to some of Glorfindel's stories.
No doubt Daeron, Saeros and Nellas would want to hear Glorfindel's stories as well. Legolas made a mental note to ask his Adar if the three could come over after he ate dinner at Daeron's. In truth, he was excited for the dinner. Daeron's mother had always made good stew and excellent cornmeal bread. He used to eat at Daeron's often. Lanque was a good Naneth to Daeron and Daeron was a good son to Lanque. He would never let her die.
The thought sobered Legolas severely and he sat up. He looked around the room. He found himself missing Narsine almost painfully. The rain outside only reminded him of the times she would come and check on him to make sure he wasn't scared of the storms. Thunder and lightning never scared him and he had told her such many times, but that never stopped her from coming to check on him, just in case.
Legolas stared at the door for a while, half expecting Narsine to pop her head in and tell him that the whole thing was a prank, that she truly wasn't gone. Dead, not gone. And suddenly, Legolas had the urge to move. He swung his legs off the bed and his soft, small feet made no noise as he scurried out of his room and down the hall. He didn't know where he was going. He paused for a moment outside of Thranduil's room, listening to see if his Adar was awake. But no noise came from the room. He paused outside each of his siblings' rooms, but none of them were awake either. He paused outside of Glorfindel's room, but even the nightmare plagued elf made no noise.
Legolas was at a loss of what to do now. He wondered if any of the others were afraid of the thunder. Mayber Saeros was afraid. The littler elfling often was afraid of such things.
Coming to a stop, Legolas noticed he was outside of the armory. Adar had always told him not to go into the armory, and to never touch anything that was inside. But Legolas had always wanted to see what was inside. He had once heard Kelderas tell Luthin that one of Galadriel's shields from the first age was inside. He had always wanted to see it, but he had never asked his Adar to show it to him, for fear that he may think he found out it was in there by sneaking in.
A shield would have saved Naneth.
With that thought, Legolas quietly opened the door, looked around to see if anyone had seen, and then slipped inside. He silently inched the door shut and looked around. It was dark and he couldn't reach the torches to turn them on. He found a few lamps sitting by the door and quickly lit one. He found that the lamp was old, probably an artifact like most of the other weapons in the armory.
Legolas held the lamp up and looked around. He drew in a breath when he caught sight of all the swords and shields that lined the walls and were stacked on holders in the center of the room. He scanned the shields, to find one that could have belonged to Galadriel. When his eyes fell upon one shield that was mounted to the wall, he instantly knew he had found what he was looking for. It was a pale shield, with golden leaves and vines intertwined with a sword. The paleness alone marked it as belonging to the elf lady of Lorien.
Legolas was about to go and touch it when something else caught his eye. A sword was mounted just below it on pegs, readily accessible if the palace was ever under attack. It was by far the most beautiful sword Legolas had ever laid eyes upon. He knew immediately that the sword had belonged to his grandfather, Oropher. Perhaps it had been his swords in the Last Alliance. Legolas could only guess.
Walking quietly over to the sword, Legolas ran his finger up the flat side of the blade and then fingered the hilt. It felt heavy. Legolas set the lamp down and used both hands to lift the sword off the pegs. He struggled under the weight, but managed to balance it by pushing the tip of the sword into the ground. He looked it up and down. It was almost as tall as he was, the end of the hilt coming to his nose.
A sword like this would have saved Nana, Legolas thought, eyeing the glinting blade. It was still sharp, he realized with surprise. He pictured himself with this sword when the orcs had attacked. Fighting off the ugly, foul beasts with Nana standing behind him and sweeping him up in an embrace when he managed to kill them all. That would have been a true act of bravery, the act of a true warrior. One day, he would be a warrior. He would kill orcs and goblins and trolls. One day he would, for Nana.
With that thought, Legolas pointed at an invisible foe at the wall. He growled at them menacingly and the went to lift the sword. The sword lifted halfway into the air, but Legolas' small stature couldn't hold it and it began to fall. Without thinking, Legolas moved his hand to catch the falling blade before it could clink on the ground and make noise. Unfortunately for the elfling, he caught the blade on the sharp side and it sliced into his hand, deeply. Legolas' eyes widened, and he pulled back his hand, letting go of the hilt.
It was Legolas' second mistake of letting go of the blade that cost him dearly. As the sword was falling, the tug that Legolas had inadvertently giving it while pulling back his injured hand had brought the sword coming towards his body. The push he had giving the sword when he had let go in surprise had giving the sword momentum. Combined, it was like the sword lashed out at Legolas with brutal accuracy. The sword sliced at Legolas's left leg, cutting a wound that was deep and high on his thigh. The force of the pain knocked Legolas to the ground. He blinked a few times, staring at the rapidly growing puddle of red that was now forming beneath him. Panic and pain coursed through him. As his head grew dizzy with blood loss, Legolas let out a terrified scream.
A scream that was unfairly muffled by the heavy doors of the armory.
Review Responses:
Moonshine44: Thank you! I think I was really into the last chapter. (explains all the typos lol) I tried to be more careful with this chapter, but I absolutely suck at editing.
MCross: I thought we could use a little rain before the actual brunt of the storm comes. ;-) But unfortunately, even though it may not seem like it, this isn't the storm that I have planned. It's just a prelude.
Eleniel Ithil: Thank you! I'm glad you enjoy the story.
Sesshyangel: I really like fanfiction Glorfindel in most stories. He's always very caring and witty. I tried to keep up with that in this story, but I'm not always sure if I do. Thanks for the encouragement!
Kirsten: Legolas is really cute, isn't he. -) And I do like Luthin, though not as much as some of the others. I think Kelderas is my favorite OC, followed closely by Idrial.
SleepsInOctober: I always picture Celebrian as being really wise and understanding. I think that way, her passing won't be so hard on Elrond and his sons because when she does pass, she will know what to say to make her family be able to go on.
kel: Exactly. Kelderas is very troubled about it too. It's going to take a while for him to get over that little episode with Luthin as well.
daw the minstrel: It sure did wake them up. I thought they could use another eye opener. -)
Templa Otmena: There's a little more about what Kelderas used to be like. I'm not sure if that ideal Kelderas will ever come back, or if he'll even find it in himself to not sail, but I think we're going to be seeing a change in Kelderas very soon. Oh, and those chickens...I got my roaster all ready, so you better watch them closely. (hides the feathers littering the muses' lair) hehe.