Disclaimer: See prologue
Chapter 9
Meeting in the Library
Legolas watched Katherine with great care as the group made their way down the forest path. Her lips were pursed, troubled eyes downcast, and her stride met his.
His fellow elves, and Gandalf, eyed her garb with curiosity. Legolas had not thought to ask her to change into a dress. He knew not if she even had one; he had never seen her don a gown during his 'visit'.
Her dark blue flared jeans clung tight to her long legs. The olive green shirt she wore was made of soft, thin, suede-like fabric. It was smooth like velvet, but would not keep her warm. The sleeves were elegant, for they seemed to bellow out at the elbows like an elven dress would.
Yet he said nothing, having already gone through her lecture about the differences between their clothes.
The rain did not let up as they walked, but only intensified. The chill of the wind nipped at their faces and hands, causing most of the elves to pull up their warm hoods to keep the rain off them. Gandalf's fabled hat kept him dry. And Legolas had his own cloak to stay the cold bitter rain. Katherine however, did not. But still, she said nothing. She shook her head stubbornly when Legolas offered her his cloak for warmth.
Soon, they reached the tall gates that seperated the palace grounds from the outer kingdom, and entered.
Legolas had told her that the palace was mostly underground; brightly lit corridors of strong white stone. The part that was above ground, was mostly the Dining Hall, Throne Room, Council area, etc. Such things like the kitchens, and personal quarters were underground.
The pillars, walls, and such were extravagantly carved to perfection. The symbols and intricate designs of trees, flowers, battles, and people gleamed in the candle-light.
As they walked up the stone stairs and into the Hall, Legolas let out a sigh of relief that it was empty; he did not want to have too many suspicious eyes following Katherine when she was already worried enough. The guards took their leave, giving Katherine one last strange glance, before heading off to other pressing duties.
"Come Legolas." Gandalf beckoned, continuing on to the stairs that led underground. As they walked, Gandalf spoke, "I suggest that you find the lady a chamber and a change of warm clothes. Lest she catch ill. Your father is in a rather long council at the moment, and will not be available until dinner."
Legolas nodded, not surprised. "I shall meet you in the library in half-an-hour then?"
The wizard acquiesced, striding off down the long hall to his own quarters.
Legolas took hold of her hand, and turned down another flight of stairs. "The chambers here are mostly my father's and mine, but there are a few rooms reserved for higher guests." He continued on, pointing out some rooms. "These first three doors on the right are my father's. His living quarters, study, and room... The first door on the left here, it leads to a more private garden... And this door is my quarters..." he said, pointing to the second door on the left, further up the hall. He walked past that, to the only other door further down from it on the left. "This room will be yours."
He opened the door, ushering her inside courteously.
The room was beautiful. Bedecked in dark mahogany and olive. The large bed was to the direct right of the door, dressed in a thick maroon velvet comforter with an olive embroidary of vines and leaves with gold trim. Fluffy pillows were set perfectly to match. The marble fireplace had a chaise lounge covered in comfy blankets and pillows in front of it. A wardrobe was opposite the bed, though she hadn't thought to look in it yet. There was a table with two chairs in a corner, cutlery set out incase one would take a meal in their room. The vanity was beautiful. The glass table had many a perfume, and hair accessary waiting to be used. The plush chair sitting before the vanity had a bathrobe sitting on it; ready for use.
"Your private bathing chambers are in the room to your right," Legolas said, gesturing to the door near the table on the far right wall.
"And what of this door?" she asked, pointing the dark mahogany door to her left.
"It leads to my chambers should you need me." he said, failing to hide a grin.
She carefully rolled her eyes at the ceiling, while walking to the wardrobe to look at the clothes. "Am I allowed to use these?" she asked in an astonished whisper. There were four dresses inside, along with normal black, tan, and brown leggings, and a few unadorned tunics.
One dress was silk, of a powder blue color, and a square cut neck. It was sleeveless, but had two long glimmering strips of silver fabric that would hang around the arms. A girt of grey braided suede wrapped around the waist.
Another gown was a dark green with long butterfly sleeves. It was simple and plain, more for riding and outdoors, etc.
The third dress looked very elegant. White, with a low half-moon cut neck adorned with tiny white gems along the neckline. Tiny intricate leaves and vines of silver thread wove around the sleeves, neck, and hem. There was a girt for this also, save for it was not fabric, but of real silver that looked like interlacing vines. It was truly beautiful.
And the last dress was of a pale yellow. It reminded her of springtime when she looked at it. The embellishes of tiny flowers and leaves covered the dress. She loved this one, just because of the way it made her remember garden's, and how she loved to watch things grow.
Legolas's voice broke in on her thoughts.
"They are only temporary. Tomorrow, I am sending the seamstresses up to fit you for new gowns of your own." Legolas said, looking around the room himself. She tried to protest that there was no need, but he insisted. "Dinner is in a few hours. I will send Mariel in to assist you." He noted her hesitant look at the thought. "Do not worry. Mariel has known and taken care of me since the second I was born, and will treat you as a mother would a daughter."
"So, if I asked for some embarrassing stories about a certain prince, she would have quite a few?" Katherine asked, giving him a cheeky smile over her shoulder.
He, however, paled.
"Your silence is most reassuring..." she laughed.
He kept his expression neutral, and said, "Bathe if you wish, change, and rest. I have no doubt that you are tired."
She failed to stifle a yawn as he said the last sentence, and she glared at him reproachfully. "Shall we go see this, Mithrandir, now?"
Legolas shifted uncomfortably. "Actually, I would prefer to seek council from him in private while you rest. There is much that needs to be said."
"Legolas, I need to know what you're keeping from me!" she pleaded with him, her eyes glazed with anger and frustration.
"And I shall tell you when I have finished speaking with him." Legolas said, making for the door.
She watched him leave her standing there, alone, without reassurance, and angry.
Once he had closed the door behind him, he leaned against it, breathing deeply. At least she didn't shout at me again... he thought, making his way up the stairs to the library.
Upon entering, he knew that Gandalf was in here. The smell of pipe-weed was thick upon the air.
The wizard was sitting near the grand fireplace, puffing away in deep thought. "Tell me of your tale, prince. I am most anxious to hear it..."
Legolas sat in the chair next to him, nodding. "Aye, I shall. But there is much that I must seek council on from you, Gandalf. There are gaping holes in her past that I wish to be filled."
Mithrandir wave his hand, urging him to continue.
And so the prince told all. Of nearly killing her, finding the mark upon her hand. Of seeing her memories in a nightmare, and protecting her from the man who tried to rape her. When he reached the part about how she had told him the white-haired man was not her father, Gandalf was rapt with attention. "Her mother told her that he was not her father, but a servant of Gorthaur." Gandalf's eyes were narrowed in thought and deep concentration. Legolas could tell that he thought the news was perplexing. "There is more that is even more astounding." The Grey Pilgrim removed his pipe, turning to look at the worried prince. "Gandalf, she says that her mother had 'many names'. In the... other world... 'she was merely Em'. But once she recieved the mark, her mother told her that her real name was... Kementari."
Gandalf spluttered, coughing on his pipe smoke. "W-What!" he exclaimed.
"I know! It is unheard of!" Legolas exclaimed, getting up out of his chair. He leaned against the mantle, staring into the dancing flames of the fire. "Her ears are not pointed like that of an elf - as one would assume she would be." He leant back, looking up at the portrait of his mother, who smiled down at them. "Mithrandir, if what she says is true, and I saw no lie in her eyes, then her father would be Aüle... Gandalf, if this is no falsehood, then she is the daughter of a Valar."
