I'mela en'i'ilfirin:

The Love of the Immortal

Chapter 3: Elin Sila Lumenn'ometielvo

(A Star Shines on the Hour of Our Meeting)

"Seriously Selfern, how much farther?" Nien interrogated the obviously annoyed elf. They had been riding hard since daybreak and no matter how many times she asked, the other elf would not answer how much farther they had before they reached the palace.

It was late in the night now and the company had been passing small villages for about an hour. The setting of the sun also marked the setting over her patience. Each hour that went by meant less chance of anyone from her village surviving; anyone of her family surviving.

"Please," she begged turning to Falnuin and Cerulion.

"We will be there within half an hour Nien, don't distress," Cerulion finally answered giving in to the anxious look her beautiful, yet greatly smudged, face held.

Chancing him a smile before turning back to look over Selfern's shoulder, Nien once again felt hope begin to rise within her. There may be some possibility that one of her family members might survive. That is, if the king spared her a horse to go looking for them. She had never met his Majesty and didn't know if he was a generous soul or a tyrant.

No matter, she thought. Someone was bound to lend her one. And if not, she'd have to steal one. There was no way that she wouldn't go back to Lake Gatheral the next day, legally or not. Shivering involuntarily, she hoped it didn't come down to stealing.

Within moments of her sudden depression, Falnuin pulled out a long horn from his saddlebag, and blew one long, billowing note. The unexpected noise nearly made Nien fall off the speeding horse, but she was already alert when the answering tune played.

"What was that?" she asked, desperately trying to see over Selfern's shoulder.

Urging the horse faster, he answered, "That, my dear, would be the guards of Eryn Lasgalen."

The road suddenly veered to the left, bringing two large oak gates into view from between the thick trees surrounding either side.

Cantering through the archway, Nien suddenly found herself faced with bustling city life. Men, women, and children of the market emptied the street to allow the speeding royal guard through. She was busy looking at the different canopied food stands set up, so she didn't notice the looming presence of the palace.

When she finally turned to face the great housing of the king, she was stunned by it's beauty. While large and overpowering, the building gave a welcoming appearance through the many windows built into the outer walls. It was made with a rich white stone, and above each doorway were different phrases carved in Sindarin. The magnificent structure demanded it's own respect to all that beheld it and Nien made a mental note to get better acquainted with the different rooms inside.

Selfern led the way with his horse to the stables, where he quickly dismounted. Cerulion and Falnuin followed suit and Nien grasped the idea that she, too, should get off the horse.

She took Selfern's offered hand and clumsily slid from the dappled mares back. "Am I to see his Majesty tonight or will I have to wait till tomorrow?" she questioned, realizing that it was rather late at night and Thranduil, in all odds, would be asleep.

"Well," Falnuin stated giving a look at her appearance, "you may see him tonight if you wish, but I would suggest waiting till morning when you're properly cleaned and dressed."

Looking down, Nien took into notice that her once semi-acceptable dress now had many tears strewn about, and was caked with dirt and blood. Granted, being a farmer's daughter, her clothes had never been court-worthy, but now they were even below her own tastes. She didn't even bother trying to gaze at her own reflection because she knew that must be nothing more worthy than a troll's eyes to fall on. "I must see him as soon as possible, my family's life may hang in the balance," she stated as firmly as possible, leaving no room for argument on the other elves behalves.

"Follow me then," Selfern replied stepping out of his horses stall and leading the group up a flight of stairs leading into the palace.

Nien followed obediently, walking in between Cerulion and Falnuin, although her eyes never left Selfern's back. She was led through an amazing amount of twists and turns before finally coming to a halt outside two large doors she presumed led into a dining hall of some sort.

Selfern then beckoned to his two companions and told Nien to wait there.

For the first time since arriving at Eryn Lasgalen, she felt nervous. She watched as the doors closed behind the three and began allowing insane scenarios to run through her head.

What if the king took one look at her appearance and sent her away? What if he didn't care about the loss of her village and laughed in her face? What if he didn't believe her and threw her in the dungeons for "lying"?

Her mind froze as the doors opened again, by two servants, allowing her enough room to step in. If she weren't so distraught at seeing the king sitting on his throne at the front of the aisle, she would have noticed the beauty of the grand hall she was walking in.

Coming to the foot of the few steps that led up to king's throne, she halted and curtsied clumsily.

"Elen sila lumenn'ometielvo," the king greeted merrily, smiling down upon her.

"Good evening King Thranduil," she offered in return. "My name is Nieninque Elothinal and I hail from the Lake Gatheral." Wanting to show no weaknesses, despite her appearance, Nien kept eye contact with Thranduil's astonishingly blue ones and held her posture as straight as ever.

"Oh really now?" he stated, obviously shocked at where she came from. "We hardly ever get any visitors from that area. Tell me, how are your people fairing? Your journey couldn't have been a good one judging by your appearance," he added as a worried after thought, creasing his brow slightly.

Nien had the grace to blush at his comment, but refused to let her confidence waiver. This was the moment she had come for after all. "We faired fine, your Majesty, until five days ago. Then we were attacked and I fear I may be the only survivor."

Standing in astounded rage, the king demanded, "Who attacked your village?"

"Yrch," Nien replied, disgusted as the word passed her lips, and waited for the king's reaction.

She got one and it was immediate. "Selfern," he called in a very royal tone that had only been acquired in the past few seconds, "take Cerulion, Falnuin, and a party of twenty, and leave tomorrow at dawn. Ride to Lake Gatheral and check for any survivors. Then send a scout out to check or remaining orc. I want a full report when you get back."

Bowing slightly from their position off to the side, Selfern exited the hall with Cerulion and Falnuin at his heels. Nien assumed they were leaving to gather others for the journey.

"Lady Nieninque," the king addressed suddenly. Nien, not used to the title, looked taken aback at first, but she turned grateful to the fact that he didn't judge her solely on appearance. "I thank you greatly for your forewarning of orc aggression and offer my hospitality as thanks. One of my maids will show you where you'll stay."

At his words, a young maid, around Nien's age appeared as if from nowhere.

Seeing that she was about to be left behind on the expedition, Nien panicked. "Your Majesty, am I to go on the journey to my village?" she called out before she could stop herself.

Thranduil looked sadly down at the young elleth before him. She looked to be a little younger than his son, yet she had no idea of the way things worked outside of her village. "No, it is too dangerous for you and none of my warriors would want to be burdened with protecting an untrained female."

"But my family may still be alive out there! I refuse to abandon them like this. Your warriors need not even acknowledge my presence. I beg you your Majesty," Nien argued, knowing full well that she could be thrown in the dungeons for disrespecting the king's decision. But she'd rather be locked away then walking free abandoning her family.

Thranduil opened his mouth to deny her further, when he was cut off by a voice next to him.

"I will look after her father," Legolas spoke up, making his presence clear to the elleth for the first time.

Nien's eyes snapped to the elf sitting to Thranduil's right and felt a chill go through her body. She had no idea there was a prince to the throne! And never would have believed that this elf would be the king's son. Where Thranduil had dark brown hair, this elf had fair blond. The king had a large muscular build, evidently that of a soldier, and his "son" had a slim, toned body that looked as if it depended more on agility then the actual strength of weapons. In fact, the only physical trait they shared was their stormy blue eyes.

"Legolas don't go trying to override my response. My decision is final and will not be swayed."

The prince seemed to grow irritated at his father's stubbornness because his body tensed and he retorted, "Try to show some compassion for once. How would you like for me to leave you alone out in danger of orc or potentially urakhi? Because that's what you were asking of her."

"Enough. You are a trained warrior and know how to defend yourself. I will not allow this maiden to put her life on the line like that."

"But I, the trained warrior, will be protecting her…"

Thranduil, growing tired of his son's defiance, threw his arms in the air and shouted, "You will not! The both of you are dismissed. Kindly show her to her room."

"You can't dismiss me, I am your son!" Legolas shouted before turning his back on his father, stalking past Nien and the maid, and making his way out of the hall.

The maid, who had stood unfazed by the exchange between prince and king, pulled a shocked Nien away from the miffed king. "Come on mi lady, we must get you to your room and have you cleaned up," she urged as they stepped beyond the door and into the stone hallway.

"Are they always like that? I'd feel horrible if I was the cause of something major between them," Nien asked, still slightly unsettled by the exchange.

The maid gave a slight chuckle and nodded, "They never quite saw eye to eye on things, but both are the most stubborn elves I have ever met. By the way, my name is Alme, and I will be your maid for your stay at the palace."

"Nieninque, but my friends call me Nien," Nien replied, gazing at the female next to her. Alme was about an inch shorter than her and had dark brown hair and eyes; she was actually quite pretty for a maid, she thought.

The two walked the rest of the way in silence and Alme stopped in front of a large door with gold trim some ten minutes later.

"Here we are, Nien. Your temporary bedroom, feel free to roam the castle at your wish."

Stepping inside, Nien took a couple seconds to take in her room. It was average seized with a bed on the wall opposite her. Next to the bed was an ornate dresser and vanity, with assorted pieces of jewelry arranged on top. To her right was a large bathroom, complete with many different soaps, perfumes, and shampoos.

With the help of Alme, Nien bathed and managed to get the blood and mud cakes out of her long, wavy hair. She discovered that she had a rather nasty cut on the back of her head, along with multiple scrapes and bruises on the rest of her body.

After drying off, Alme handed her a white sleeping gown that she found in the dresser. Nien put the gown on hesitantly, because she'd never worn anything so grand, even if it was just sleep wear.

Alme left after brushing Nien's hair out, allowing her to crawl into bed and fall into a troubled sleep, consisting of her family and this prince that defied his father for her, someone he had never spoken to before.

Alright, so there's another chapter in this story. I'm soo sorry it took so long, but school got the best of me and I had absolutely no time to write. Hopefully now that summer's here I'll update A LOT more often. Now go click that little "go" button that leads to the reviews :)

xoxo

sammii lynn