Chapter Two
Daralis woke up to brisk morning air, took no notice, felt something hard beneath her, and then remembered that had fallen asleep, on her stomach, on the floor. She groaned, and rolled over, to find that she was shrouded from the sun not by her precious ceiling, but by what seemed to be a canopy, a canopy of..
"Trees?" She stood, and turned around, her clothes hanging off of her like drapes. She felt the urge to scream.
"AIR?" She definitely wasn't at home, and the air, which was cold, and harshly nipped her in her worn t-shirt and flannels, smelled cleaner she wasn't sure that she was even in her own country.. maybe she was in Ireland or somewhere like that, where everything wasn't already destroyed, and the air still smelled good.
Which, of course, completely made sense.
"Oh yeah, lots of people wake up in the woods and wonder if they're in fucking Ireland! What is going on?! Ohmygod. I've been kidnapped. I have been kidnapped! What else can go wrong here?"
She was considering her options, thinking about how in the hell she could have gotten there and walking absentmindedly in a circle when she heard a voice call to her.
"Hauta!" She stopped abruptly, both because she had no clue who had spoken, and the voice was commanding, and then began frantically searching them out for some aid. She had the good sense to put her necklace inside her shirt and the photos that were still in her hand in a pocket at the back of her flannels as a platinum-haired man landed directly in front of her, causing her to jump. He took the pictures from her pocket however, and looked at them in both suspicion and wonder. He peered at her closely, coming inches away from her face before pulling back and saying in a decisive tone,
"Tulya o amin. Lle kena i Haran."
'Ah yes. A strange man could ambush me, and then kill me with the bow and arrow he's packing. There's something.' She thought to herself.
She was about to ask him what he was speaking and what it meant when he grabbed her arm and began pulling her to follow him. She resisted, she dug her feet into the ground, she shrieked for help, but to no avail. Finally, she just allowed him to take her, and they began moving faster. They crossed a stream, and Daralis' pajamas trailed in it, her bare feet stinging with the cold. The pants stuck to her ankles, sending icy shivers up her legs, and so she stopped suddenly, surprising her guide into a halt. She bent down and wrung the legs out, and then rolled her pants up to the knee so the cold fabric couldn't touch her skin. The man with her watched her curiously, and when he cocked his head to one side, Daralis noticed something as his silky hair parted - his ears were pointed, just like her father's in the picture she had seen of him. She mentally noted this, but stayed silent, as she didn't know where she was, and didn't want to offend him. Besides, he most likely couldn't understand her.
What was the point, really, in asking someone about their strange attribute and most likely insulting them if they couldn't even answer you properly?
They were on their way again. Suddenly, her guide stopped, but as Daralis was looking at a tree she didn't recognize behind them, she went straight into him. If he had given a bit, she could have stayed upright, but seeing as he stood as firm as a brick wall, she was rebounded back and landed flat on her back, looking up and cloud, sky, and then a male face as he looked over her face, looking concerned and worried. She blinked a few times, and slowly stood.
They were going to need some kind of communication.
She pointed to herself. "Daralis." She repeated it, until he pointed to her and said her name, causing her to smile. He gave her the same inspecting look he'd given her when she had woken up, which she stopped by pointing at him, until he told her his name.
"Alklithion."
"Um.. wow. So Big-Strong-Guide-With-Pointy-Ears-Guy won't work?" He looked at her, completely unimpressed.
"Okay, okay, sorry. Alklitheeawn?" He shook his head, looking at the ground as if disappointed.
"Alklithion," He repeated for her.
"Al-Alklithion." He gave her a nod, and a satisfied smile. She was looking around her when he spoke her name.
"Daralis," He said. She looked to him, question on her face. He pointed to a far off mountain, and they began walking in that direction, Daralis with a horrified look on her face,
"Are you mad?" He stopped, and looked at her as if she was crazy.
"I'm not climbing that thing! I am BAREFOOT!" She gestured to her feet frantically.
He promptly scooped her up and slung her over his shoulder, and continued walking.
They went over the mountain that way, Alklithion never faltering, and walking at the same speed he had been all day.
By about lunchtime, three things had happened. Daralis had convinced herself that that feeling in her stomach was indeed her stomach lining eating itsself- she hadn't eaten at all the day her mother died, and this was most likely two days later, she was again walking barefoot on forest floor, and they had come in view of a magnificent palace. Alklithion spoke.
"I mar narya ne i nosse narye ne Mirkwood." His voice startled her, as they had been silent for all the hours it had taken them to get there since he spoke her name the last time.
The palace inspired even Daralis, though it was proof that she was in a different time altogether. She walked a little faster.
'They're sure to have food in that place!'
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Daralis had been hoping for a meal. But when she arrived, she was immediately led to a large, regal looking room, with odd and even disgusted stares from the people she passed as she went by. She figured she probably stunk. By the time she got to the room, which was covered in marble and what looked like the same metal as from her mother's necklace, hung with plush fabrics and tapestries, she was completely mortified that she should meet anyone else looking as she did. She released her hair from the makeshift pony tail she had crafted by holding up her hair with a lock of spare hair.
It was a trick her mother had taught her, although it had always worked better on her wavy, curly hair then on Daralis' silky straight locks.
She smiled thinking of her mother, and then realized that she had been left alone.
She was by herself in the room for several minutes, feeling very small indeed, while the man who had brought her there gained entrance to the connected chamber.
She was startled when three of the strange men were escorted out by guards, and Alklithion approached her simultaneously.
Very quickly he came back out, pulled her up and beckoned for her to follow him. She stood, and shuffled slowly with him.
"Tulya! Lle kena i Haran!" She went a bit faster at his hurried tone, and he led her into the room he had just exited. She walked by pillars, seeing flashes of flaxen gold hair between each one, and she turned, following a rich green carpet which led to a throne at the head of a shallow marble staircase.
' Talk about great luck. I'm going to meet their goddamned royalty like this.'
She brought her head up, and saw who was sitting there. She gasped quickly, brought her hand up to her open mouth and whispered her next words with her lip trembling.
"Are you..? No, no you can't be. But you look like the one in the pictures.. A-are you my f-" She took a deep breath and continued. "My father?"
The man laughed, and rose form his throne to come nearer to her.
"I am not, Hen-amin, no, but I do see features of my own son in you. Along with these," Thranduil handed her the photographs of her mother and Legolas, "I have strong reason to believe that you are my granddaughter." Daralis looked up at him, as he was taller than she, in utter confusion.
"But who are you? Where am I? Where are you from?"
"One question at a time, Hen-amin. I-" He was interrupted.
"What does 'Hen-amin' mean?" Thranduil rolled his eyes.
"It means, 'my child'. And now to your questions. I am King Thranduil of Mirkwood, and your paternal grandfather. You may address me with the second title. " He smiled. "You are in Mirkwood, in Middle Earth, which is where I come from, as the roots of the Firstborn are in Middle Earth." Daralis looked utterly confused, but she had no more time to ask another question, as Thranduil took her arm and led her to one of the many doors behind the throne.
"I believe it would be wiser to continue this conversation in privacy, do you not agree?" Daralis nodded blankly and let herself be led into what looked like an office; there were books covering one entire wall, along with a desk and chairs. It was very cozy, warm and inviting, even though its space equaled about that of all of the bedrooms in her house combined. A fireplace was on one wall, with seating in front of it. The fire in the grate was dying out, and Daralis rushed to it, sat down on one of the chairs in front, and pulled it closer to the fire, rubbing her hands.
"And now, child, I ask you- what is your name and from where do you come?"
"My name is Daralis Isolde Storms, and I'm from California, and I don't know how I got here, so don't ask." Thranduil raised an eyebrow at her brisk speech. "Grandfather..?" Daralis added as a sort of peace offering to her brisk statement. She received a smile.
"You are much like your father." Daralis' eyes showed excitement at the mention of the word, which Thranduil picked up on.
"Unfortunately, Indye, my son is part of a scouting party. Since he returned from his disappearance nineteen years ago, he has wrapped himself in work. When he is without it, it seems, he draws himself into his room and does not leave; no food, drink or company can revive him of this depression. The Elves, as you may know, can perish of grief, and as I do not wish to lose my son, I allow him the tasks he wishes." Daralis had stopped listening.
"Sorry, but who are the Elves?" Thranduil was floored.
"Surely, child, you know about your ancestors? The Elves are the legendary race of Middle Earth!"
"What do you mean, my ancestors?" Thranduil put two fingers between his eyebrows and looked at his newly-found granddaughter in disbelief.
"But how? How can you not know?"
"Well, how would I?" At this remark, Thranduil leaned in from the other chair and peered at her right ear, which was the closest to him.
"It is as I thought. You are a Peredhil! Your mother never told you this?"
"No though she was probably planning to." She decided not to tell him the news; she didn't want to break down in sobs this early in the family reunion. Thranduil looked into her face.
"You are keeping something from me, Hen-amin. But no matter. You must know of your heritage.
"The Elves of Middle Earth are the first race that the Valar placed upon Arda. We are the immortals, our senses developed beyond those of the races we share inhabitance here with. Our sight is better, our ears more talented, our smell most tuned." Daralis swallowed nervously. She'd always had more sensitive hearing then her friends, been able to read the signs miles away on road trips with her mother, always taller than everyone else in all of her classes, and she frequently got headaches from the potency of her Aunt Melissa's perfume. Admirers followed her since childhood, from the game of house in first grade to the fourteen Prom invitations she'd gotten in her senior year of high school. Fastest student in the school, Valedictorian of her class, anything she had ever tried she had succeeded at.
But she had always chalked all of this to good genes, and luck, and anything other reason she could satiate her mind with. It certainly wasn't with being half mythical creature from ages and ages ago.
"Now hold on just a minute. Are you trying to tell me that- that, WHAT?!" She was standing, waving her hands wildly in the air. "I'm an Elf?"
"No child, you are a Peredhil. A half-Elf. Now permit me to finish my tale. " Daralis went silent and sat down obediently, and Thranduil continued.
"Shortly after Legolas' return, the Elves of Imladris, which is another Elven city, Daralis, called for representatives from the realms of all the free peoples of Middle Earth-Elves, Men, and.. Dwarves-" Thranduil's face had taken an unpleasant expression before continuing, "-to a council. Your father then became one of the Nine Walkers, and accompanied the Ringbearer to Mordor to destroy the One Ring. For you see, that ring was the final object the darkest lord this Earth has ever seen needed to return to his former power. Think of it this way- in your time, there was war, no doubt?"
"Yes, there is."
"Well, when your people to go war, they go to fight other people, of their own kind. But the battle on the Pelennor Fields was a war against supernatural forces and unbeatable enemies and foes. And yet the free peoples prevailed.
"However, after the victory, he returned and fell ill. Only labor and task can help him. I believe that is sufficient information for you for right now. Perhaps your father can tell you the rest.
"I must go and tell a messenger to send for Legolas' premature return from the scouting party." Thranduil stood, and Daralis followed suit. They began walking out of the room.
"And while I do that, Hen-amin, I shall also find you a handmaiden." At the early signs of protest from Daralis, he put a hand up. "Trust me, grandchild. You are in dire need of a bath."
Daralis stopped, and Thranduil continued on his way.
Okay, you guys, I've a few words to say!
First of all, there will usually be an Elvish Translation if I use Elvish in a chapter, but I forgot, and now (as I write this note) I can't remember what it means exactly. So. Alklithion's statements were something like "Come with me, you must see the king". And Indye means grandchild.
Thank you so very, very much to my reviewers, but it's the wee hours of the morning, so all I can do without passing out is update the story real quick. So personal thanks and comments are coming. But I just want to say that I appreciate it so much, and it really inspires me. :) Thank you all so much again.
And, as always, REVIEW!
That is all.