Chapter Ten
"Dara, Lord Elrond wishes to speak with you." Legolas had entered his daughter's chambers with these words, eliciting a snappy response from her.
"Good morning to you, too, sunshine."
"There is no time for jest, Dara, Lord Elrond urgently wishes to speak with you. Put on a nice gown, brush your hair, and hurry. You can eat after you've spoken to him, as you have chosen, once again, I might add, to miss breakfast."
"You are so anal, it's frightening at times." But Legolas couldn't respond, as he had already flung her into the bathroom with a gown he picked out. It was midnight blue, and Daralis reemerged from the washroom with a look of disdain on her face.
"I can't wear this. It's an evening color." Legolas turned, incredulous, to her.
"Daralis Isolde, if the people, languages, and food in Middle Earth are different, is it at all possible that so are the fashion patterns? Now put it on, the color is a favorite of Elrond's. He is waiting, Miire-nin, and you would do well to hurry."
"Fine. No need to snap, though."
Daralis rushed through the halls to arrive at Lord Elrond's study. When she entered, she discovered that it was similar to her grandfather's, only more spacious.
Elrond sat at his desk and beckoned her to sit across from him, as the caterpillars in her abdomen escaped from their chrysalises and became rabid flesh-eating butterflies.
"Daralis, I sense that you have some apprehension about this conversation. But I also sense that it is misplaced. I do not call you here to speak about my son," Daralis' eyes widened, "But about your blood line." Her eyes narrowed in suspicion and confusion.
"How do you mean?"
"I mean that you are aware that you are a Peredhil?"
"Of course I am."
"And you do realize that the Elves are immortal?"
"Well, my father is about two-thousand nine-hundred and fifty years old, but doesn't look a day over 23, so yes,"
"And have you never considered the effect that his blood may have on your life?"
"Not really, I mean how-" She ended her sentence short, with her mouth in an O. "You- you don't mean that I have to live forever?"
"Not necessarily," declared Elrond, frowning at the desperate tone to her voice. "It is possible that you, like my own children, shall be given the choice. I have forseen this."
"The choice of what?"
"To allow the human blood you carry to overwhelm the Elvish and become fully mortal, or to allow the Elvish blood which flows in your veins to finalize your status as an Elf."
"What if I don't have the choice?"
"As it seems that you have certain human weaknesses, you will most likely perish at an end of your life."
Daralis' eyes filled with tears at this news. So many emotions conflicted her at once, and this final obligation wasn't about to help anytime soon.
"Um, th-thank you, Lord Elrond, for discussing this matter wi-with me. I-well, it means so much to me that you would concern yourself enough to help." She was beginning to sob, hiccuping, and sniffing at the same time, which was no combination for speaking to an Elven lord. "Please, excuse me won't you?"
"Yes, of course, Dara. I hope to see you later tonight at the meal. You shall be able to meet my other son, Elladan's twin brother Elrohir." He spoke hopefully, as if wishing to lift her spirits, but they were so drenched already that nothing but an acceptably polite answer could be managed.
"I look forward to it, Lord Elrond." With those words, she turned and dashed from the room
.. and straight into her father. Looking horrified, he pulled her into his arms, trying to discern what the problem was.
"Dara, mani naa taa? Hmm? Mani marte?" Legolas knew that Elvish was much more calming than anything else he could say.
"Atar, he said that I may have the choice"
"The choice the choice! Dara, what is the matter, then?"
"It's just that.. I- I don't know."
"You don't know what?" Daralis looked up at Legolas and with dismay, realized that what she had feared had come true- he looked both betrayed and injured.
"Well, it's just that.. I don't know which choice to make!"
"How can you not? Have I done something to make you unhappy at the thought of an immortal life?" His voice was getting angrier.
"No, Atar, of course you haven't, but it's just that I.. I was almost hoping" Her eyes filled with tears.
"Hoping for what?" She looked at him again. His eyes were dark with worry, and something else.
"Nothing. I have to go." She wrenched herself out of his arms and ran to her bedroom.
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Elrohir, sitting on his brother's balcony, heard the sounds of weeping.
Because it was coming from the room next to the one he was in, he stood and went to the door, knocking softly. When the crying continued, he knocked harder.
From inside, he heard, "Please, just, go away." At the sound of the female voice, his eyebrows raised, and he spoke.
"Lady, if you would pardon me," He began, "I would feel much better if I knew that you were alright. Are you in a decent state?"
"No." was the reply. "I'm in my nightgown."
Seeing as how it was nearly three in the afternoon, Elrohir entered the room.
Daralis rose her head from the bed to look at the intruder. It sounded like Elladan and looked like Elladan, but somehow she knew that it wasn't. Therefore it must have been his twin, Elrohir.
"Elrohir, please, leave me."
"Ah! You know my name! Have I rescued you in some daring risk of my life before?"
Daralis snorted. "Hardly."
"Then how, Daralis?"
"I know who you are," Daralis began, standing up and walking to stand in front of him, "because you are the spitting image of your brother Elladan, who I have had the pleasure of meeting. I know that you are not he because I know him fairly well, and I know that the name of Elladan's twin is Elrohir, because your father told me that this morning when he was informing me of that fucking choice. How do you know my name?"
"Ah, the choice. I struggled with it too," said Elrohir, completely ignoring the last question.
"What?"
"You are speaking of the choice of whether to be mortal of Elf kind are you not?"
"Yes, but you struggled with it?"
"Yes. It was quite difficult for me."
"Why?"
"Because I was not sure of which way I wanted to go. If I were human, there was so much I could feel, and learn, and do, but if I were Elven and eventually sailed to Valinor" he paused.
"What?" Daralis asked breathlessly.
"If I went to Valinor, I could see my mother again."
"What? Why is your mother there?"
"She was destroyed by orcs."
"What? They killed her?" Daralis was horrified. If she was to protect the Elves of Mirkwood from the kind of beast that- Elrohir's voice interrupted her thoughts.
"Not killed. Destroyed. Please excuse me, Daralis, I believe I shall take my leave, as it were."
"Oh! No! No, Elrohir, I am sorry, I didn't mean to- please, don't go. I'd like to talk about it, if you don't mind too much."
Elrohir looked thoughtful, and turned back to her.
"Of course, I do not mind."
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Elladan walked to the door of Daralis' chambers, but stopped short when he heard her voice, obviously speaking to someone.
"The thing is, I'm almost the opposite of you. If I become a full Elf, then I have so much to do, and learn, and feel, and then there's my father, of course. But, since the day I lost her, I've kind of always thought in the back of my head that when I die, I can be with my mother again. And if I become an Elf, I can't do that."
"Elves can die, Daralis." Elladan was surprised to hear Elrohir's voice.
"What? No one's told me that yet."
"Yes. We can die, in battle or of grief. But," he added quickly at the look on her face, "It must be a grief so absolute in its existence. Sadness over the loss of a pet, or a torn dress, cannot move an Elf to the grief I speak of. You may have noticed, Daralis, that the Elves are not a very emotional race." Daralis snorted again, but Elrohir continued.
"For an Elf to die of grief, it has to be the farthest one can go before insanity breaks them.
"Your father nearly died of heartbreak."
Daralis' eyes flew directly to Elrohir's, searching for some sort of jest, but they were like stone.
"Wh-what? When?"
"Shortly after he returned from his unexplained disappearance. It was as if he had been taken, abused, and traumatized so that he never wished to speak again. Quite tragic, actually."
Tears were filling Daralis' blue orbs. Elrohir looked alarmed.
"Please, Daralis, I did not mean to disturb you so. I-" At this, Elladan opened the door. Both of them turned their heads to him. Daralis was sitting on her bed and Elrohir was in a chair beside it. Daralis had her hands over her cheeks and nose, and tears were quickly collecting in her palms.
Elladan rushed to collect her in his embrace, and Elrohir looked at his brother, horrified. He heard Elladan's voice in his mind.
'Elrohir, do not trouble yourself with guilt. She is very upset, but this is not your fault. Thank you for speaking to her.'
'Is there anything I can do for her?'
'At this point in time, no. But I shall remember the offer.'
Elrohir left silently, his brother embracing Mirkwood's princess in his arms.
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