Oropher roused from an uncomfortable sleep, his chin jerking off his chest, as the root cellar door scraped open and soft feet descended the stairs. Alert, his only movement was to glance over at Jailil. The healer slept in slumber; his brow pinched.
Oropher's shoulders dropped an inch when the shadow revealed itself to be a young boy. He set down a small lantern on the bottom step and sat down beside it.
"You are the king," the boy said, his angry green eyes flecked with gold.
"Yes," Oropher said, wincing at the accusation. "Who might you be?"
"My name is Lithan. My father, he will not come. He is too proud. But I do not wish him to die—I do not wish to see my family hurt. I do not understand—why can you not just leave us alone?"
"Perhaps I did not know how to."
"You are not my king!" Lithan spat at him. His hands clenched into fists. "I am ashamed of who I am knowing, somehow, we share blood. I—I hate you!"
His shouting awoke Jailil, who sat up off the floor and ran the front of his hand through his eyes before blinking. Lithan turned on him. "Why did you come here? How can you care about him? He is a monster! You should leave him to die."
"Lowering myself to the same level as the people I do not support is not a healing solution," Jailil replied. "I have hurt myself too long in hate. As a healer, I must heal. I assure you, child, I would as willingly assist your father as I have tended to my king."
"I wish," Lithan said. "I wish you had never come."
Jailil smiled a little. "To not see something for yourself often leads to greater mistakes and bigger heartbreak. I do not like what I see here, but I knew I needed to see it to find a fix."
"In order to find compassion," Oropher whispered.
"My mother said she thought the history of man bloody and rife with cruelty, but she finds her own history as wicked. You are wicked! You do not care about anyone except yourself!"
"I know," Oropher said. "But I am attempting to care for people beyond myself. You are half-elven?"
"No," the boy spat. "I am another human filth!"
Jailil reached out gently and put a hand on Lithan's trembling shoulders. "I know you are upset, child. Believe me, I know what it is like to hurt. Even Mirkwood does not offer a painless life. I struggle every day to find a reason to go on when I am faced with young girls abandoning unwanted babies and see elves I could have saved go into the ground because they did not think anyone could help them."
Lithan jerked away from him. "Years ago, before I was born, Mirkwood warriors came. They burned the village to ash and drove my ancestors toward the mountains. Those who were not slaughtered by orc and beasts came back here to the desecrated land of their ancestors. They came back because they had no choice. I remember too, three years ago the Mirkwood guard came again. They left everything in smoke and ruin! We only survived because the elves of Buried Creek let us into their homes. And now," he blinked desperately, "now you have come again."
Jailil dropped his outstretched hand. "I am sorry for what you suffered, Lithan. This time we are here to rectify our mistakes. I know it will be hard to communicate our sincerity to your people and our own, but it can be done. I can tell by looking at you, you are not ashamed of the blood that makes you who you are."
Lithan's eyes flooded with tears. "I want to believe you. I need to believe you! But my father will not come. He is too proud, but I . . . I—here. Hold me hostage—my father will let you go. I will come with you—you can do whatever you wish to me but . . . please leave my family alone. Please do not hurt them."
Oropher looked at the cold knife the boy shoved at him, the hilt heavy and chilly in his hand. "I do not want to hurt you, child. I want this to end peacefully and agreeably, with room for both our kind to grow. I do not blame your father for doubting me. I have spoken what I see as the truth for so long I have not paused to realize others see it as a lie."
His eyes left the boy and returned to the knife. Oropher was tempted; he felt the longing creep into his chest. He wanted to see the sunshine again and the green of the trees instead of the grim, grey air and the crumbles of earth pressing into his back.
Jailil tensed. Oropher flung the knife on the ground, the cold steel turning to fire against his skin, and turned away. "I do not desire your life, Lithan, or the blood of the people you hold close. I want . . . to be free."
"As do I," Eragion said from the top of the stairs.
Lithan spun around. "Father! I—I am not sorry."
"Nor should you be." The man trotted down the stairs to hug the boy to his chest with one arm.
Jailil's shoulders tightened again as Eragion picked up the fallen knife and tucked it into his belt. He blew out the lantern. The loss of its gentle light went unnoticed. Moonlight glanced through the open doorway.
Eragion gestured to the stairs. "Make no mistake, I cannot allow you to walk free, but perhaps we can better understand each other over a hot meal."
Jailil put a hand on Oropher's good arm as the king made move for the stairs, aware Eragion walked two steps behind. Cool air washed across his skin and shook the dust from his pores as he stepped onto flat earth and saw the winking stars spread out over the shadow rooftops.
"This way," Eragion said. Yellow light turned the hard earth golden under the windows of his log home. He pushed open the door with his shoulder and hung the still-warm lantern off a hook in the wall.
Standing in the empty street Oropher looked toward the dark line of Mirkwood. He heard the trees rustling and felt the last waft of breeze break across his face. He saw too the barred gate.
Jailil nudged him gently. "Come, my king, you need food and rest."
"You need not cling to me as though I am a tethered dog!"
Jailil walked with him through the door. Lithan shut it behind them. The healer gave Oropher an amused glance. "Need I not? I fear you may collapse with every breath."
"A life of plenty I may have led but I too have survived peril. A broken arm is . . . an unfortunate happenchance."
Jailil took the bold plunge through the little lean-too into the main room of the house. Kissing Eragion over the hot platters on the table, the elf woman's eyes froze on Oropher.
"I sent you to fetch our son," she said icily.
"As I have, Vaya," Eragion replied. He moved it front of her and his voice dipped low.
Jailil ran a hand through his eyes and smothered a yawn. His stomach growling blocked out Vaya's hissed-low cutthroat words. The snap of her yellow-gold hair gave away her words in the quiet.
Finally, the woman said, "I find I have not the heart to chain you to the hitching post and feed you like dogs. Sit down. Keep your forked tongues behind your teeth."
Oropher sat down slowly in one of the willow tree chairs at the round table. Jailil sat beside him. Though the table was round, Eragion, Vaya, and Lithan sat distinctly opposite them.
"Madame, I bear you no disrespect," Jailil said quietly, "and speak only because I have no forked tongue to keep behind my teeth. Thank you for your hospitality."
Lithan chuckled. Vaya shot him a withering look, her eyes gorgeous green slits. Oropher thought she belonged in midnight ink silk, so blue it looked black, a shadow against the sky as she looked out over Mirkwood from her balcony.
"I have not the heart to treat my kin as I would treat orc," Vaya replied crisply. She slid plates aross the table to him and Oropher. "As for you who dares call yourself a leader, I see the thoughts in your eyes. Have you no respect for a woman who does not define herself by the name of her lord?"
"It is not my place to judge your way of life," Oropher replied quietly. "I do not attempt to do so now."
"I see you have found yourself several centuries too late."
"Though I am no leader," Jailil said. "I am a healer, and I know it takes effort on both the side of the patient and the healer to heal wholesomely. The all of us sitting here desire change. We will wait at the edges of our stagnant pools of hate forever if we do not start throwing rocks into the water."
Vaya raised her striking arched eyebrows furiously. "How dare you suggest I do not want change? I have wanted it since before I knew love—" she clenched Eragion's hand, and he winced— "was possible. I have been casting my rocks with my kin and family for years and, Jailil, am sorry to say the pool is iced over by no cold of mine."
"Then I believe we will soon learn to communicate excellently," Jailil answered.
Vaya waved a hand at him. "You will communicate none if your words are slurred. Take your king and use the storage room to your advantage."
Jailil pushed back his empty plate and nodded his thanks. As he entered the small box-like room through the door behind him, he heard Eragion murmur, "The storage room, Vaya?"
"I insist you take the cot," Jailil said at once, upon inspection of the musty floor space.
"I accept your offer for tonight," Oropher replied, "And insist I return the favor tomorrow evening."
Jailil groaned as he lowered himself to the floor and leaned back against a sack of grain. "I do not know how much longer we will be here." He tilted his head as he heard a latch rattle. "I believe the fine lady has locked us in."
"No windows," Oropher said, glancing around.
"If there were, I would consider it my duty to hinder your efforts to escape." Jailil smiled as he shut his eyes and crooked an arm under his neck.
"Do you not wish to be reunited with your lover?"
"Yes. It is important to me that I return honestly."
I do apologize for the hiatus! I assure you I will not disappear until this story is marked complete. Just a few chapters remain and I am truly delighted y'all are still here and reading! Please do share your thoughts, as always.
Next Chapter: orc attack!