A/N: Thank you for your patience.
I meant to get this chapter out before Christmas but... obviously, that did not happen. I am not 100% happy with this chapter so please be gentle with me. Don't mentally chase me down with torches and pitchforks.
This chapter is over 10,000 words... so get comfortable with a fluffy pillow and glass of water.
Secrets of a Raven Beauty
Swan Song
TA 2770
It was an evening of a grand feast celebrating harvest time. Barrels of fine red wine filled the elves with the promise of a grand night. Candles lit the grand hall brightly as the orchestra played an upbeat tone. The elves danced merrily on the dance floor, laughing and singing songs. Servants conversed and hosted the guest with goblets of wine and platters of cheese. As the night carried on, their animated voices vibrated in the cavern.
Meanwhile, with Erweth in Lothlorien, Calaerien continued her mother's duties on the king's behest. Behind the crescent royal table, Calaerien stood in the back against the wall and cradled a pitcher of wine. Dressed in her newly crafted light green gown, lined with golden trimmings. Her ocean-blue eyes bounced from the dance floor to Legolas who kept his firm gaze on his people. Whether he noticed her presence or not, Legolas never gave her any indication. Since their conversation in the yard, Legolas reframed from confiding with her, despite her efforts. His hand ceased caressing her chin or hands when they converse light-heartedly. She curved her attention away and ignored her despondent heart. The wall between them widened with layers of stone and bricks.
Calaerien sighed forlornly, yearning for his close intimate friendship again. Anything that differed from where they stood now.
Legolas's gulped down the last bit of his wine which, Calaerien was all too eager to refill. She came to his side and steadied the goblet in her hand. It surprised her when the prince did not release the goblet nor withdrew his hand when their fingers touched. He never acknowledged her yearning gaze while she filled the wine to the brim. He murmured kindly, though Calaerien knew it was strained, "Thank you, my lady."
Calaerien's hand fell from the goblet but wished nothing more to feel him again. Completely enraptured by the prince, Calaerien scarcely noticed the approaching elf until Legolas stiffened uncharacteristically. Then at the corner of her eye, came forth Olithir from the dance floor with a determined step in his stride. He stopped directly in front of the king from the other side of the royal table.
Calaerien paused, her heart stopped cold to his presence.
"My king and prince..." Olithir greeted with his smooth and calm voice as he bowed lowly with respect. When his green eager eyes found hers, Calaerein retreated to her post and cradled the pitcher for any comfort. Olithir uttered, his voice bold, "May I take Lady Calaerien for a dance."
The invitation was not directed to her but to the King who tilted his head up with a satisfied expression.
Calaerien felt her breath ensnared from her lungs as she began to refuse, "Thank you, good sir, but..."
"She would be delighted..." Thranduil answered for her, his voice firm and unmoving. Hesitantly, Calaerien curved her attention to the king who turned his elegant head toward her. There were no words but a silent command that forced Calaerien to give Legolas a sideways glance who met her weary gaze. The king continued, "I'll have another take your place."
Before another word was spoken, an elleth came to her side and acquired the pitcher. She gave Calaerien an encouraging smile followed by a light nudge. Calaerien forced a smile and looked to Olithir. At that moment, her heart constricted painfully, and was unable to use her voice. She curtsied and came around the table. Olithir was all too eager for her hand and led an uncomfortable Calaerien to the center of the dance floor.
Olithir pulled Calaerien into his arms, his head towered over her raven crown. The music persisted with an upbeat tune that had the dancers swaying in glee. A tense Calaerien struggled to the proximity of Olithir and with any chance she had, she glanced at the prince who watched her every move with guarded eyes.
There was a small, in its tiniest form, part of Erweth that knew she was doomed since Romonil's death. Over the last several years, Erweth felt herself fading as time went by. It was involuntary, like fighting a storm that will eventually destroy all in its way. Erweth was tired. Very tired. Perhaps it was her desire or her excessive need to protect and nurture her younglings in their time of need that kept her going. Maybe not even that, it could be her time in Middle Earth was not yet finished. Now as she stood firm upon the precipice on a high platform in Lothlorien, Erweth felt peace.
As the time to travel drew near, Erweth returned to her Lord and Lady on the platform where they bid her farewell. Light surrounded them in a haze of surrealism. The Lothlorien elves gathered to farewell the elleth with song and bowing respectfully. Erweth proudly smiled to her people, while silently grieving for she'll never return to her birthplace. Slowly she drew her attention to her lady whose eyes never wavered.
Erweth sighed deeply as a smile crept upon her face. She inhaled the scent of Lothlorien one last final time when she heard the swift steps of the Marchwarden. Haldir led a band of elven warriors to gather around the elleth. It was a small company of twenty plus Erweth that intended to meet the Mirkwood patrol at the northern end of the Wilderland along the Andruin River. It would be a three to four-day walk by the light feet of elves. Erweth observed the elven warriors when a strange and heavy sense of deja vu consumed her. If her mind were to play tricks on her, she might have seen her bonded amongst the elven warriors. Much like years before, Erweth felt a twinging pain in her chest. A compression upon her heart pressed with a thick and jagged warning.
Be at peace, my friend.
Erweth gave her lady a final glance followed by a respectful nod when Haldir inquired, "Ready to depart?"
"Aye," Erweth responded with a calm and collected tone, followed by a smile. "This all seems vaguely familiar. Does it not marchwarden?"
"Indeed." He retorted though the marchwarden did not share her smile he nodded in respect before he commanded, "Come, we'll depart before dawn breaks over the horizon."
The marchwarden was the first to turn on his heels and followed the spiral steps down the thick and ancient tree. As the elven warriors slowly parted and descended from the platform, Erweth smiled to the elves singing and bowing their heads in farewell. Erweth swept her hand across her chest before she turned and filed in the line of elves. Erweth descended in the middle of the company where she fell into the rhythm of songs.
Calaerien was restless.
She circled her chamber in a relentless internal battle. Memories of her dance with Olithir was nothing short but uncomfortable with the heavy sting of guilt. The elloth yearned for her love which she could not give. How could the elloth not see her hesitance? Did he believe she was beyond bashful and found that oddly appealing? Or was something sinister ladened behind the scenes? Calaerien had not given him any encouragement or promises, however... perhaps the King did…
'My advisor Sarnor informed me his son Olithir is quite taken with you. Even inquired after your lineage...'
The prestigious voice of the king echoed in her mind like a lingering odor. The mere thought lancet a terrible spasm in her tender heart that almost crippled to her knees. The distinct discomfort in her chest elicited labor breaths. The pieces of the puzzles formed the collective idea. The king was intentionally and indirectly forcing Calaerien to pursue the future advisor. Why would an aloof elf king play matchmaker? What did the King gain from toying with the hearts of his people? He, of all elves, should know better about dallying with the heart of elves. The very idea left a bitter taste in Calaerien's mouth. Was the King truly threatened by her presence? Calaerien was nothing more than an elleth residing in his kingdom. She was no warrior, assassin, or even a spy. She was less threatening than a mouse.
"Did he fear Legolas may in fact yearn for me as I did for him?' She mused thoughtfully.
The thought alone enticed a twinge of hope to burn from the embers. Calaerien felt the corners of her mouth tilt into a dreamily smile as her fea illuminated to the reaction of her emotions. All her hopes were shattered upon the bizarre and odd behavior of the prince. When Legolas distant himself from her emotionally, Calaerien felt the heavy burden of pain and uncertainty. What could she have done to earn such a reaction? Her heart dropped to her stomach followed by a long and hard sigh of frustration.
Calaerien reengaged her march around the small chamber. If Prince Legolas did in fact share her desire, then why distance himself from her? Mayhap the prince did not feel the same as she did... which explained his sudden separation... to spare her of a broken heart?
The familiar despair in her fea slowly returned to the surface.
She was consumed by sorrow once more and the momentum in her legs ebbed. Calaerien found herself standing before the small table in the corner of the room. In the center was the gift from Olithir. It was concealed in the small box, hidden from any prying eyes. She remembered the dazzling mythril necklace that obtained remarkable craftsmanship. It held a personal and significant meaning which only tickled the guilt of Calaerien's consciousness. Though her heart was shattered by unrequited loved, Calaerien refused to allow Olithir to follow in her footsteps.
Determinedly, Calaerien plucked the box from its resting place and turned on her heel. When her soft hand came to the door handle, Calaerien paused and inhaled deeply to defuse the overwhelming pressure in her chest. A growing threat developed in the back of her mind. A threat that warned her that King Thranduil will not be pleased when she refuses Olithir.
But for Olithir's heart and fea, Calaerien refused to give him false hope. Whatever consequences lay ahead for her, Calaerien will brave it was a clear conscious.
And thus, Calaerien left her chamber with a still heart and sought out Olithir.
Calaerien crossed the long bridge over the river to the southern wing of the kingdom. Elves greeted her with kindness and warm smiles which Calaerien returned. The river flowed beside her step and played lovely melodies that did little to ease the overwhelming anticipation in Calaerien's chest. Each step she took, the louder her heart pounded in her ears. A large archway designed by tree roots declared the entrance to the vast library. In truth, Calaerien rarely came to the library since she completed her studies but its breathtaking beauty always caught her by surprise. Large bookcases lined down in files, filled with endless amounts of books and ancients recordings. Elves quietly and leisurely passed through the maze, reading or filing tomes. In the center of the Library, Calaerien spot several scribe tables with only a few occupying them.
Calaerien passed by a few elves who only smiled and curtsied kindly. On the side of the library resided the private chambers of the advisors. With every fiber, Calaerien prayed Olithir worked alone at this hour. The door before her grew ominous. She gently knocked on the wooden door, as it was customary to never impose on the advisors. There was a brief pause followed by a rhythm of footsteps approaching from the other side of the door. When the door cracked open, Calaerien was face to face with Olithir.
The elloth in question blinked in surprise before his expression gladdened by her unexpected arrival. He smiled graciously and opened the door, "My lady Calaerien, what a pleasant surprise."
The elloth ensnared her hand and placed a swift peck on her soft skin. An uncomfortable spasm coursed through Calaerien's body as she gently tugged her hand free and mustered a small smile, "My lord, I apologize for my untimely intrusion but I must speak with you, for I can no longer be silent."
The seriousness lingering in her tone forced Olithir to give her his undivided attention, "Of course, please do come in."
Olithir widened the threshold and waved his hand, gestured the elleth to enter. Calaerien never ventured into this chamber before, it was reserved and demanded respect for the King's advisors. As she crossed the threshold, she observed the discreet chamber. Three scribe desk littered with parchment papers and six types of different quills resided in the middle of the chamber. Against the back of the cavern was a large and looming self with thousands upon thousands of scrolls. Calaerien's eyes drifted to the fireplace which burned with orange dancing flames. She breathed with relief for Olithir, was indeed, alone.
When the door closed behind her, Calaerien snapped out of her train of thoughts and curved her attention to Olithir.
"Your timing is impeccable." Olithir began charmingly as he guided Calaerien to two plush chairs before the fireplace. "My father is with the king which gives us a small window of opportunity to further our courtship."
Calaerien mustered a strained smile that did not reach her eyes and she planted herself uncomfortably on the seat. The warmth from the hearth only brewed sweat droplets to form on the back of her neck. Her fingers fidgeted with the tiny box in her hand hidden beneath her bell-shaped sleeves. Before she arrived, Calaerien planned out her speech but now, she was speechless.
"What did you wish to speak to me about, my lady?" Olithir inquired kindly, encouraging Calaerien to speak her mind.
"I… well, I…" Calaerien struggled to form a single sentence under the pressure that weight heavily on her mind. She first opened her mouth to continue but swiftly closed it and dropped her eyes to her lap. Without words to be her saving grace, Calaerien handed the small box to the Olithir.
She watched with guilt as Olithir's hopeful expression diminished into a bewilder and dejected face. Two eyebrows furrowed on his handsome face as he eyed the familiar box-like it carried the plague. When he grabbed the box, he confessed in confusion, "I do not understand my lady. Do you not like it? It belonged to my mother."
"It is beautiful, my lord. But I can not accept it." The tender words tumbled out of her mouth with sincerity and heavily laced with sadness. When the confused eyes of Olithir searched hers from any kind of hope, Calaerien added mournfully, "I am sorry…. I can not give what you seek."
A heavy pause swelled until the air itself was almost unbreathable. The once light-hearted gleam in his eyes now shadowed with disappointment. Olithir rose from the chair and approached the hearth. His free hand held onto the mantle like his life depended upon it. Only the warm flames witness the disappointment shadow his eyes. He kept his back to Calaerien, refused to allow her to witness such emotion. Calaerien patiently waited for Olithir, no matter how uncomfortable the situation was. She owned him that much.
What seemed like an eternity finally came to an end when Olithir conceded dejectedly, and never once turning to Calaerien, "I suppose it was too much hope… to believe you would return my affections."
"My Lord…."
Calaerien began when Olithir interrupted, "The prince is the object of your affections, is he not?"
The question hung in the air and immediately silent the elleth. A sense of shock immobilized Calaerien until she almost felt her heart lodged in her throat. Was she truly transparent? The shadows had always concealed her secrets but now, as she came out into the light, all seemed to be revealed.
Olithir turned his attention to Calaerien, his expression guarded and a harsh glint protected any emotion that could reveal itself through his eyes. Calaerien broke their eye connection as she looked to her hands and inquired with difficulty, "What makes you say such a thing?"
"I have seen the way you gaze upon him. The yearn that captures your soul and traps you in a bind…" There was a subtle challenging tone lingering in Olithir's voice that sounded almost bitter. Calaerien winced and blushed. She hesitantly brought her attention to Olithir, who continued, "How I long for you to look at me with such devotion for I would free you from you're imprisonment…but it was a fool's hope."
"Forgive me, my lord." Calaerien softly begged, she neither confirmed nor denied his suspicions. "I did not intend to give false hope."
"Did you not?" He snapped accusingly and stiffened by Calaerien's naive nature. Those dark green eyes he possessed narrowed with pain and inner turmoil.
"Nay…" Calaerien retorted, first surprised by his tone then suddenly felt enraged by his question. Her small hands tightened into fists upon her lap. The accusation scorched and boiled beneath her skin to question her integrity and honor. The elleth ascended from the chair to match his glower, lifted by the burning desire and swelling with self-dignity. She countered firmly, her voice surged with strength, "May I remind you, my lord, that you sought for me through the king and never once asked me if I would agree to any kind of courtship. You and yourself grew fat from your own false hope. I made no promises."
Flabbergasted by the shiest elleth of Mirkwood, Olithir found himself speechless and in awe of this elf. Calaerien, for but a moment, became more frightening then the king himself. She burned brilliantly until her caliber alone was unfathomable. He first blinked and glanced away in shame, "Forgive me, my lady. I was out of line to dishonor you."
Calaerien sighed inwardly, her anger dwindled but felt the char of their conversation branding her heart. "You are forgiven…"
"Indeed, but answer me one thing, if you would indulge me," Olithir added, his voice laced with curiosity as he returned his gaze to the raven-haired beauty. The start of his tone made Calaerien suddenly guarded and suspicious when he continued, "The prince, in all his long years, has not claimed you or another elleth in this kingdom. I have seen many elleths wait upon our prince until the longing was their only escape from their unrequited love. Why must you wait for him who does not see what you are now?…. You too, would soon yearn to leave middle-earth….and share their fate…"
Calaerien breathed heavily as if she held it. At the moment, Calaerien was conflicted by the sadness of his truth and the overwhelming protectiveness for the prince. His question was almost savage, if not brutal to her tender heart. It even planted doubt and made Calaerien wonder if she's following the footsteps of the previous elleths. Were they too burden with hopes and love for the prince who did not return their affections? Calaerien struggled to draw breath but refused to allow Olithir to cast a shadow over her mind. She shook her head defiantly for she developed a friendship with Legolas. The prince never once was cruel or attempted to take advantage of an elleth.
Calaerien once again stilled her heart and warned firmly, "My lord Olithir, I would encourage you to hold your tongue against the prince. There are things that plague him that you and I could scarcely comprehend. He is kind and puts his kingdom before his own desires and needs. That alone demands your respect…."
"I have nothing but respect for my prince." Olithir corrected his tone tense but weakened by Calaerien. He slowly returned to his chair in thought, baffled by how their conversation changed when he brought the sensitive subject of the prince. Olithir implied, "You surprise me, my lady. Perhaps you are more forward than I originally anticipated."
She could not decipher if there was any lingering animosity in Olithir's voice. It even suggested the idea that jealousy rooted secretly in Olithir's heart. She hinted clearly, "There are many things about me, my lord, that you may not have anticipated."
"Indeed." Olithir concurred he rose from his chair, completely guarded and distant from her, "Then I suppose this ends anything that could develop between us. Good day, my lady."
Three days passed since her conversation with Olithir occurred. Since then, Calaerien took solace in her weaving on the loom. Her deft fingers swayed swift with passion as she developed another knit-tight fabric for her next patron. Without stopping, Calaerien glanced at the mannequin dressed with her latest creation. A green gown adorned with a silky corset and broken up ribbons around the waist. The ribbons flowed aimlessly down the front revealing layers of sheer skirts. Calaerien only needed to finish the bell-shaped sleeves when the sun shone through the window.
Birds chirped to the dawn with songs but it only made Calaerien's heart slump to her stomach. It was a Monday. A day where she must face the king once more. She sighed deeply, her hands drooped to her lap, and desired nothing more to escape to the yard with Legolas. But she knew such fantasies would not shield her from the king. With a still heart, Calaerien rose from her stool and determinedly left her chambers.
Calaerien gulped before the door of King Thranduil. The doorway loomed ominously before her and almost felt colossal than the week before. However, Calaerien knew such things were not possible and it was her fear playing tricks again. Memories of last week with the elf king was nothing short of alarming. Dread clawed its nasty hooks in her heart until the dire need to flee was almost tempting. But Calaerien was no coward.
The sound of the guard clearing his throat broke Calaerien's train of thought. Bashfully she glanced at one of the guards who cast a curious arched eyebrow. The elloth must think her most queer staring at the door as if she has never seen such a thing before. Hesitantly, she formed a coy smile before she nodded her head to give him permission to announce her arrival.
Calaerien inhaled deeply, stilled her racing heart before she approached the door.
The guards opened the double doors that whined eerily in protest. Beyond the threshold stood the elf-king. Readied, and keen for their conversation. His hands were pinned behind his back, his regal head extended and proud. He waited expectedly, his eyes narrowed on the elleth as she crossed the threshold and into his domain. There was a lingering gleam of apprehension but also… a sense of inner strength radiating from her.
He watched Calaerien drew closer, her eyes never wavered from his and her chin ever so slightly tilted up.
Interesting… he thought. The timid elleth had some form of a backbone.
King Thranduil waited patiently for this particular day to come. The king was no fool when it came to the tender hearts of elves, especially the one before him. The long wait since last week surely gave Calaerien some sort of pause which King Thranduil would swiftly take advantage of. He had his hand in maneuvering events such as encouraging Olithir's affections for Calaerien. Though upon the night of the feast, King Thranduil noticed the stiffness in Legolas's posture and the distraught gleam in his guarded eyes when Olithir danced with Calaerien on the dance floor. It baffled him as to why Legolas took notice of this elleth. She was a lowly silvan elleth of no great prospects. It was more surprising when Olithir informed him of Calaerien's desire to end any possibility of courtship.
It was a bold move on the elleth's part that the king did not expect. Most elves of his kingdom never dare to outwit him in any game he played. The very thought only alarmed him for he viewed Calaerien to be the most dangerous creature of all. She, a shy and lowly elleth, had caught the attention of his son when the highly esteemed Lady Rivalel could not. What spell did she conjure? Was she secretly a temptress like Luthien risking everything for a mortal?
Only his imagination conjured such thoughts and did little to comfort him. Perhaps his soft spot for Calaerien's parents blinded him to what lingered beneath his nose. However, what truly charred him to the core was news from over a week ago when his personal spy arrived at his chambers…
"The prince has been training the seamstress in…. the Queen's yard." The spy reported formally one early morning under the cover of darkness. He returned shortly after Legolas and Calaerien left the yard in silence. The spy himself was perplexed by Legolas's dedication to Calaerien's training. He eyed their closeness, how Legolas's hand grazed Calaerien's wrist. Things that gave the spy pause.
King Thranduil gazed out of the window of his chambers, sipping on his red wine. His elegant hand tightened on the goblet, growing irritated by his son's indiscretion. All the years Thranduil fathered Legolas, his son never stole away and withheld secrets from him. And yet, here Legolas was, altered his attention to the shiest elleth in Middle-Earth and crossing boundaries which the prince should have never dared to dream of. The thought almost tantalized the king to hurl his goblet at the burning hearth. The tragedy was his trust was betrayed by his son's affections for a mere seamstress.
Why would Legolas give his attention to lowly Silvan elfling who's father defied him and bonded himself to a Lothlorien-born elleth? That bonding brought forth, Calaerien: a strange and shy elleth that never blended with the people. Most odd. Evermore frustrating Lady Rivalel of good breeding was his desire for Legolas. Thranduil huffed through his nostrils and curved his attention to his spy. The spy stilled, waited for his next order. It had been many years since he needed to watch his son and now, it was essential for the king to remain vigilant.
"The queen's yard?" King Thranduil repeated, seething through his teeth. A sacred place secluded to preserve the memory of his late queen. An elleth, whose memory haunted him with a wisp of soft chuckles and the smell of flowers. The yard was his gift to her long before Legolas's birth for his queen favored the bow and arrow. His wife's face flashed before his eyes, smiling and teasing him with her impish nature. The king's posture stiffened in anger for Legolas saw Calaerien fit to defile the place with her presence.
The spy was not deterred by the King's behavior for he had weathered many storms. He remained steadfast and confirmed, "Aye, the prince appeared to be quite… fond of her, my king."
Fond of her…. King Thranduil mused those very words as he returned to the present where Calaerien waited patiently before him. The memory burned his mind until Thranduil wanted nothing more than to elicit the truth from those knit-tight lips of the shiest elleth. Was there anything scandalous or promises made in the night? Did Legolas pledge himself to this elleth? Calaerien would not leave this chamber until he had the truth.
"I am glad you are here." King Thranduil began tactfully pleasant as he eyed Calaerien with a calculative stare. Smoothly, the elf king turned on his heel and approached his desk. Upon a tray, two filled goblets of red wine were procured for this precise occasion. He gathered the goblets into his hand and offered one to Calaerien.
Baffled by the king's behavior, Calaerien grew alert and uncertain on how to navigate the impending conversation. Hesitantly she took the proffered goblet which only increased the King's devilishly grin. Calaerien barely mustered a smile as she brought the rims of the goblet to her lips.
"Come, my dear, I am most interest in continuing our conversation…"
Calaerien swallowed the wine with difficulty as the King Thranduil leisurely returned to his chair. He leaned heavily into the cushion, but his sharp eyes watched like a hawk while he sipped his wine.
"I am confused, my lord as to what…" Calaerien began carefully when the king interjected.
"Do not play coy with me Calaerien." A harsh and strict voice replaced his pleasant tone. Calaerien tensed beneath the pressure as the king continued, "What are your intentions? You refused Olithir, a most worthy elf of someone of your stature, and continue to play coy."
"I do not have feelings for Olithir, I…"Calaerien tried to explain.
"Therefore someone else has your affections…." Thranduil answered for her. His eyes bored into her and for but a moment, there was a crack in her guarded gaze. The corner of his mouth tilted upward in a silent victory as he closed in on his prey, "Who would be this elloth, who you would toss an auspices match for?"
Calaerien suddenly felt weak in the knees. Not because of the conversation, but to the realization that the king already knew and he wanted... not demanded to hear it from her lips. Her heart constricted painfully that required Calaerien to take deep breaths. Everything seemed to slip from her finger, Calaerien must remain steadfast before the looming king. Calaerien struggled for composure, struggled for anything to keep her grounded. Alone before the elf-king was something she never wanted to experience. She brought the goblet to her lips and gulped largely, though the wine did little to ease her anxiety.
"…Prince Legolas, my king." Calaerien finally whispered the confession of her heart.
There was a long and unbearable pause.
The truth finally reached his ears from the horse's mouth and despite his victory to pry such information from a guarded elleth, King Thranduil loathed the truth. It gave him no pleasure. Slowly he rose from his chair and grew ominous as he approached Calaerien. He uttered firmly, "My dear, I do not have much interest in the affairs of my people when it comes to bonding… but my son…" Thranduil stopped dangerously before Calaerien with only a foot separating them, "Do you believe you're worthy to join my noble line?"
Perplexed by the question, Calaerien retorted with uncertainty, "My king… What I do believe is my heart has loved Legolas from the time I came to Mirkwood. Whether I am worthy…. I hardly know, but my heart is true as much are my intentions."
Thranduil countered, "Do you believe Legolas returns these feelings?"
Calaerien blinked, unsure how to respond. There were moments when she truly believed Legolas saw her more than a friend, more than the shy elfling of Mirkwood. His tender words, how he behaved around her, and how he spent months training her despite her mother's opposition. But, here and now, Calaerien was lost and she answered truthfully with a melancholy tone. "No, I am uncertain…"
"He has not pledged himself to you?" The king inquired carefully as he watched the elleth squirm beneath his intense and penetrative gaze
"Nay…" She finally breathed in defeat.
"Then remain uncertain…." Thranduil commanded, his voice steadfast and final. Those words hung in the air painfully and chewed Calaerien to the core. When Calaerien reconnected her gaze to the king, he plowed her heart into defeat, "Do not believe in hope when there is none."
Hours past since Calaerien left the king. Alone in her chambers, perched on her stool before her spindle, Calaerien was still and unmoving. Her hands plopped in her lap for Calaerien found no desire to spin. She paled to the growing fear that Legolas would distance himself further from her friendship. Lost in her own thought, Calaerien felt herself submit into ruin and despair. A traitorous and muffled sob seeped out of her mouth followed by a river of tears. She could no longer hold back the tide as she leaned her head into the palms of her hands.
Three days passed since the company of Lothlorien elves traveled on the road to Mirkwood. Since their departure from the Lothlorien woods, only a few elves continued their journey. They moved swiftly alongside the Andruin River at mid-morning with a cloudy sky that rumbled in the distance. At one point, they passed over the river and made their way through the Widerlands to Mirkwood Forest. Erweth first glanced up to the barrier of clouds that moved suspiciously followed by a loud crash of thunder. A storm brewed and chased them across the lands. Erweth followed the lightning hidden beyond the clouds toward the direction of Dol Guldur... The fortress laid beyond her eye-sight but the Hill of Sorcery held a sense of fear. She pried her eyes away and shook the shadowed thoughts from her mind. Another boom of thunder clashed above until her ears burned with pain.
"It looks like rain…" She mumbled to herself as the first couple of droplets plastered her face and dampened her silvery hair.
The leader of their small company lifted his hand to signal the elves to halt. The eerie rumble of thunder elicited the crisp wind to carry a dew-like scent. The flat land before their kin was ladened with trees of Mirkwood. The leader gazed into the distance, his watchful eyes guarded, and readied for any inconveniences. His gloved hand hovered the hilt of his sword. A rhythm of steps reached the Lothlorien ears as they all curved their attention to the borders of Mirkwood. Emerging from the forest with haste was the Mirkwood patrol. Erweth glanced beyond the leader's shoulder and breathed with relief.
"Our brethren are here." He announced to his people who cheered in gladness.
Erweth smiled in peace, eager to look upon her niece's angelic face when she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stiffened. Her elven ears tickled to a strange sound coming from behind. It was faint and masked by the thunder which echoed beyond the lands. A sheet of downpour rain surged across the company and obscured the distance. Erweth watched as strange figures shifted and suddenly came forth. Her once calm smile faltered and shifted into horror as she heard the howling and snarling of wargs.
"Wargs!" The leader of the company warned as he unsheathed his sword and sounded a horn. Two black arrows whistled through the rain, targeting the company but the elves deflected the attack with their polished shields. The elven warrior became animated and quickly readied themselves for battle. The archers knocked their arrows and the leader commanded, "Ready! Fire."
Erweth grimaced when three orcs hissed in pain and slid off the saddles. The wargs continued to charge and trambled over the dead with their saliva oozing out from their mouths. The elleth gave a fleeting glance to the Mirkwood Patrol but their aid was too far beyond and without a second thought, Erweth unsheathed her daggers.
"Steady!"
The elves braced themselves with swords and shields as the snarls from the wargs drew near. Before Erweth had time to react, the wargs collided with the elven line.
It grew bloody in a matter of seconds. The battle cries deafened in Erweth's ears and the chaos disoriented her. When she glanced to her side, she found a warg charging for her. Erweth grew steadfast, readied herself before she hurled her dagger at the warg's forehead. The beast whelped as it crashed headfirst to the ground, bucking its rider out of the saddle. The orc wailed until he landed on the ground and before it could react, an elven warrior lancet its chest with a sword. Erweth grinned smugly, pleased at her small victory before she hurried to the warg. Her dagger impaled the creature deeply with blood oozing around the wound.
Erweth released a groan of disgust before she sought to remove. The elleth struggled as she slowly pried her weapon out of the skull.
While distracting, Erweth sacredly noticed an orc charging from behind with its blackened blade held high. Erweth gasped with victory when she wretched her dragger free. Smiling, Erweth pivoted to return to the battle at hand when she cringed in surprise. A fearful gasp fell from her lip before an arrowhead penetrated through its throat. Black blood sprayed across Erweth's face as the creature moaned in pain and fell heavily to at Erweth's feet.
Her heart pounded loudly to the close encounter when she glanced up and found her rescuer was none other than Tauriel. The Mirkwood elves evened the odds and overwhelmed the foul creatures.
Erweth smiled in delight at her niece but in her moment of distraction, Erweth felt a tortured pain in her abdomen. She gasped loudly and tasted blood swirling in her mouth. When she slowly drooped her eyes down, she found the tip of a sword protruding from the center of her abdomen. The weapon slowly withdrew, elicited painful moans as the sharp edges tore from her flesh. Weakened, Erweth collapsed to the hard ground.
Meanwhile, Tauriel countered and parried with the black sword of an orc, her anger brewed to the sight of them. The mere smell of them brought memories of her parent's gruesome death. Their cries haunted her mind day and night. When the creatures laughed and spit upon her face, Tauriel swiftly withdrew her dagger and enjoyed plunging her other dagger into the creature's chest. The creature shrieked before it fell to the ground to its death. Tauriel glared down at the creature as the fighting slowly ceased around her and rain continued to pour heavily upon them.
A gasp caught Tauriel's attention and without any indication, she knocked her bow and turned to the source of the sound. The very breath was ensnared from her as visions of her parents swam across her mind. Before her, laid her fallen aunt, face down on the wet grass. A brutal orc hovered over her aunt's still body, pleased by its actions. It snarled because, despite the death of its kind, it managed a single kill. Tauriel felt unfathomable rage that turned into a roar and she released her arrow and simultaneously charged toward the creature. Tauriel pulled out her dagger and when the arrow found its mark in the creature's chest, Tauriel gutted it beneath its ribcage. She twisted the dagger until it felt intense pain.
Black blood from the creature splattered across her face as the rain washed it away. Auburn hair glued thickly around her neck and back. The creature fell onto its back, it's fingers barely twitching before it stilled. The battle slowly died when two elven warriors ended the life of the remaining orcs. Tauriel whirled, hastened her approached, and skid to Erweth's side.
"Erweth!" Tauriel barely breathed, terrified to speak.
Tauriel gently curved Erweth's wounded body and cradled Erweth in her lap. The heavy downpour hammered in fury shrouded the Wilderlands in mist. Erweth laboriously breathed through her bloodstained lips as a wisp of fog was the only indication of her breathing. The guard captain was powerless and could only watch in vain as the raindrops dusted Erweth'ss face with dampness. Blood drenched her dress and the familiar black ink sprawled out from the wound.
"Erweth." Tauriel called again, her voice nearly broken by what was before her.
Erweth moaned in pain, disorientated before her eyelashes feathered open. Droplets of blood seeped out from the corners of her mouth and bubbled in her throat. A blurred figure hovered over Erweth until her eye sharpened and found her distraught niece.
"Tauriel…." She gurgled, revealing blood-stained teeth. Her mind whirled around her as she looked up to the sky at the angry barrier of clouds. Blinking away the raindrops on her lashes, Erweth glanced once again at her niece, "Tauriel…."
"Do not speak.." Tauriel uttered frightfully, her eyes bloodshot red as she looked away and hollered desperately, "We need a healer!"
Tauriel's voice rippled like echoes in a cave but the sound grew weaker. The wound flushed out blood, leaving Erweth pale and cold. Even the dull pain slowly ebbed and Erweth lost the ability to feel her toes. Erweth swallowed the nasty taste of blood as she struggled to breathe, "It would seem Romonil and I would share the same doom."
Legolas scurried over to Tauriel, appalled when he found a wounded Erweth. A wound that Legolas knew was fatal. During the short time, he knew the elleth, Legolas grew to care for her and grief clawed his heart.
Consumed by anguish too deep for comprehension, a suffering sob slipped through Tauriel's lips. The tremors in her body weakened the guard captain's strong demeanor. Death would soon ensnare an elleth who touched many in her wake. At that moment, Tauriel did not care if her patrol witnessed her grief. Let them see Tauriel. A young elleth, weary from her losses. The traitorous sobs continued as the patrol from both Lothlorien and Mirkwood circled the scene, sorrow fresh on their faces.
"You can't… You can't leave me…. leave Calaerien." Tauriel blurted out between sobs as she held onto Erweth tightly, desperately. "I still need you….. Calaerien….Cala…"
"Shh." Erweth softly hushed her distraught niece, her weak hand quivered to touch Tauriel's cheek. The mere brush of Erweth's flesh caused Tauriel to still and gaze upon her aunt through watery eyes. Erweth caressed Tauriel's cheek with her thumb and murmured weakly, "Take heart Tauriel. I shall be reunited with my beloved…."
Erweth barely managed to utter the sentence, her hand fell from Tauriel's cheek and her eyes rolled back disorientated.
"What am I to say to Calaerien?" Tauriel's voice deepened almost angrily, the salty tears burning her eyes. It burned her deeply to Erweth's submissiveness to death. Does she not realize Calaerien and herself needed her? Tauriel bit out beneath the sorrow, "How can I tell her…. How can I break her heart? Please don't leave."
Erweth barely heard Tauriel's plead as her mind weakened, the sky wheeled above with no rhythm or reason. The pain in her stomach ceased to a mere burning sensation and her fingers could no longer feel the droplets. "Watch over my little Calaerien…. " Erweth pleaded weakly, her lips barely moved. Her eyes darkened as she attempted to find Tauriel through the darkness and she murmured in a whisper, "I… I love…. you…"
Erweth's body convulsed in Tauriel's arms, struggling to breathe and choking on the blood caught in her throat. Her eyes widened ever so slightly and then, they darkened. The spasms came to a stop, her muscles relaxed and grew limp. Her final breath escaped her lip in a wisp of fog and her non-observant eyes stared at the sky. Nothing but a rumble quaked angrily to her dead.
"Erweth?" Tauriel barely managed a whisper as Erweth's cold body grew heavier in her arms. She mourned in silence, sniffed, and covered her mouth to the muffled the traitorous sobs that threaten to overwhelm her. All while Legolas watched with a heavy heart, unsure how to comfort his friend in need. It was rare to witness such emotion amongst his kin. Her muffled cries seemed loudly than the thunderous storm. He had yet to witness Calaerien's grief… The very thought nearly took the life from him.
From the specter of elves emerged Gaelira and she approached Tauriel from behind. Gently she placed her hands on Tauriel's shoulders and whispered kind verses in her ears. Legolas watched Tauriel stifled a snob as she nodded and rose from the wet ground. When Tauriel abandoned her aunt's lifeless body, the elves came around to prepare her body for the travel back to Mirkwood for a proper burial. Gaelira embraced the young elleth and gently swayed Tauriel as if she was her grandchild. She kissed Tauriel's forehead and allowed the guard captain to grief on her shoulder like she once did when Tauriel was an elfling.
Tauriel's sobs slowly came to an end but felt utterly lifeless as the rain continued to pour down upon them. Now she was tasked to inform Calaerien of what has come to pass, that she too was now orphaned.
Legolas had no words to even utter into the darkness. Following behind him was his patrol of elves carrying the dead body of Erweth on a made stretcher back to Mirkwood. They parted from the Lothlorien elves three days ago who carried their own dead back to the fold. The elves of the patrol sang laments for all who were lost in the sorrow of a bright and brilliant elleth. Legolas steered his eyes to Tauriel who walked parallel with him but no song fell from her lips. Nor did he blame her lack of interest in partaking in the songs.
Tauriel who carried the mask of a strong Guard Caption was secretly grieving. She was broken, but a wiser elleth instilled with desperate strength to carry her home. It only left a hard and difficult burden on Tauriel's shoulders. She dreaded home. She dreaded seeing Calaerien's hopeful face and those eyes…. her ocean blue eyes that will break upon the news.
Legolas looked away forlorn and not envious of Tauriel's responsibility to inform Calaerien of her mother's death. Legolas himself, could not endure Calaerien's sadness for the physical agony would leave him in despair.
They followed the road to the grand doors of Mirkwood on the third evening where the red horizon slowly dimmed to night. The starlight offered no comfort or solace to the elves. The two looming doors whined in protest, and in the belly of the entrance were elves eagerly ready to greet Erweth. Amongst them, Legolas found Calaerien with her dark hair standing in contrast to the common silvery and auburn-haired elves.
Ocean blue eyes found him, as they swelled with hope and joy to the return of a loved one. Legolas felt his heart stop when their eyes met, haunted by the ghost that would soon ensnare her joy. His eyes dropped to the ground regretfully and reflected on the sorrow.
Calaerien's smile slowly faded, confused by remorse in his step and the rigid tense of his body. Something was wrong…. terribly wrong. Swiftly she turned her attention to the patrol, her eyes rapidly scanned for her family while the elves moved deeper into the cavern. Then in her line of vision, emerged Tauriel who expression beheld broken anguish in her eyes.
Legolas managed to bring his eyes to the pair. He watched with deep regret clawing in his heart as Tauriel hesitantly approached Calaerien. Her hand tightened into fists at her side. The hope in Calaerien's eyes slowly diminished into fear. Legolas could scarcely listen to Tauriel's heartbreaking words as Calaerien's eyes widened and her face flushed with grief. Tears shimmered in her eyes. Slowly, if not reluctantly, Calaerien curved her attention to Legolas. As if she looked for confirmation, something… anything that proved it wasn't true.
But Legolas couldn't give her what she wanted.
Calaerien eyes tore away to the stretcher which carried a body with a cloak covering the corpse. Hanging off the side was silvery hair, brushing against the ground. Despair and loss seemed to dogged Calaerien's every turn, haunted her steps. New desperation caused her body to quiver as she gazed at the dead body. Calaerien took several steps to approach her mother's corpse but Tauriel tightened her small hand over Calaerien's wrist and stilled her. Heated words were exchanged before Calaerien defiantly shook her head and yanked her arm free from Tauriel's grasp. Then Calaerien fled into the crowd with only glimpses of the raven beauty breaking through the crowd.
Tauriel stood alone, broken herself, and swiftly turned on her heel and headed to her room in the barracks.
Five days later
Sometime in the night, Legolas stole away from his chambers in secrecy. Guilt brimmed to the surface until Legolas literally choked with it. His thoughts were consumed with nothing but Calaerien since his return. He wondered how she fair? Was she eating or drinking? However, Legolas was no fool. Memories of his mother's death ladened his mind with dark and terrible thoughts that forced him to joggle those things away. With every fiber of his being, he wished Erweth was spared. He wished Calaerien was spared of this sorrow. He should have comforted her, whispered consolatory versus in her tender ears but Calaerien was not hers to calm in his arms. That right belonged to her only relative: Tauriel. In a matter of speaking, he did not envy the captain of the guard.
During these past few days, the elves of Mirkwood sang songs of Erweth's passing. Since their return, Legolas sought Calaerien in her favorite tree, the yard, and even, hoping to find her serving the king. With each fleeting hope to capture a glimpse of the raven beauty, the prince was left unsatisfied. Dread crept from his stomach and punctured his heart with sharp and painful claws.
Legolas strolled down a long corridor of tangled roots forming a curved roof. In his line of view, he noted Calaerien's chamber door. He stopped in his tracks, ready to flee but stilled his worried heart. How can he face her? He knows not how to comfort a grieving elleth or what to say to ease any pain she felt. Utterly lost, Legolas consumed a hard breath as he brushed his hand through his silvery hair. He was conflicted. He wanted to know how she fair but the very thought made him want to flee like a coward. His hands tightened until his short nails bit into his skin.
No, he can't flee. He owed her that much.
Legolas approached the door which only grew ominous in his eyes. This was not a situation he could not handle with his bow and arrow. It was a complex situation… with Calaerien. Unbonded elloth visiting an unbonded elleth would be considered most improper in the eyes of his kin, but at this moment, Legolas would risk the wrath of his father for Calaerien. He gently rapped his knuckles on the door. It echoed in its wake. The seconds that passed felt like years. Silence welcomed him and only urged his heart to decline further into oblivion.
Legolas felt her familiar and warm fea. Even heard her heart beating in rhythm but the door remained firmly shut. Why wasn't she answering?
"Calaerien?" His voice sounded weak even in his ears. "It is Legolas."
Another long silence developed between him…. and the door. It sounded louder than any noise conjuncture. Legolas sighed in defeat and believed Calaerien did not wish to greet him in her dark hour. Perhaps she was angry and cursed his name. She would have the right to do so. Another long moment passed by before Legolas resigned and slowly turned away forlorn.
Then suddenly the door unlocked.
His heart constricted with hope when the door cracked opened and between the tiny rift stood a pale Calaerien. Slowly her baffled eyes drew up and found his. She blinked as if she did not trust her eyes and believed he stood there. Legolas couldn't help but notice the once bright light that reflected in her ocean eyes faded. They were dull and weary. Long raven hair stood dramatically in contrast to her white dress. Despite her unhealthy look, he found her… surprisingly exquisite.
"My lord Legolas?"
She inquired so tenderly that he barely caught it. It sent a chill down his spine and he had to swallow hard to regain his composer. Before another word was spoken, she opened the door for him to enter. Legolas bravely crossed the threshold into her sleeping chambers. In the years Legolas befriended Calaerien, Legolas never ventured into her chamber. The chamber was much smaller than his own. The curtains concealed her chamber from the moonlight, leaving her home dim with only a single candle illuminating a small but warm glow. His eyes roamed curiously across the decorations of Romonil's weapons to a tapestry of her family mounted on the walls. Then he noted her tiny workspace covered most of the chamber. An unfinished gown dressed upon a mannequin. Abundant of crafted fabric rolled tightly sprawled across her desk and unfinished gowns on her couch. Then he found her loom and spindle which she loved dearly. Off to the side was a small archway to Calaerien's bathing chamber. The mere thought of it made Legolas almost blush to his ears.
Now he stood alone with Calaerien in her sleeping chamber.
Most improper…. Legolas thought but willed those thoughts away.
Calaerien delicately shut the door almost frightened it would shatter upon contact. She circled around and pressed her back against the door. As she watched him observe her chamber, Calaerien couldn't wonder what drew the prince to her this night. If any caught them alone in her chamber, it would be a most uncomfortable situation.
After a moment longer, the prince turned his attention to meet a bewildered Calaerien who eyed him with wide and weary eyes. Under her gaze, Legolas felt hesitant to explain why he came to her under the cover of darkness. Legolas cleared his throat and began with a formal tone, "Lady Calaerien…. I have come to offer my…. condolences."
The words tumbled out of his mouth, tainted by propriety which only irritated the prince. He couldn't fathom his own odd behavior, especially under those confused ocean blue eyes. Deliberately procrastinating for a moment, Legolas sighed deeply before he inquired, "May I speak freely, my lady?"
Calaerien was surprised by his question. Not trusting her voice, Calaerien could only manage a nod of approval.
"I have come to beg your forgiveness." He uttered all too swiftly, which earned him a confused look. He continued, "I promised that I would protect your family and I failed at the task…."
"My lord…" Calaerien interjected softly, brought her arms over her chest, and pushed away from the door frame. She slowly sauntered toward the prince. The sound of her tender voice immediately silenced Legolas. "I can not forgive for there is nothing to forgive. I am ashamed that I have forced you into a promise that enviably could not be kept."
Calaerien came but a foot away from the prince, both swathed in the glow of the single candle. Lost in her ocean eyes, Legolas attempted to find any form of chagrin or resentment in her orbs but found none. There was only the familiar and gentle elleth. How could this elleth silence him with only her tender voice or a glance of her sweet eyes? They left him breathless and unarmed by a guard he built over the centuries.
After a long moment of gazing at each other's eyes, he finally broke the silence with a promise, "I shall do whatever you wish. Whatever you want of me, I shall offer it freely."
"Nay, my lord.." Calaerien denied softly, her eyes drooped to the stone ground.
"Legolas." He corrected.
Calaerien sighed inwardly before she pulled her attention back to the prince. She implored gingerly, "… Legolas…. There is nothing that can be done and so, I shall release you of this… predicament. Please, be at peace."
Her voice relaxed the tight muscles in Legolas's hands. How could this elleth worry more for his wellbeing than the painful cracks in her broken heart? A gesture that left him baffled and completely swathed in awe. At that moment, Legolas couldn't help but look upon her with admiration and respect. Will this elleth ever cease to surprise him with her elven nature? None other had ever enraptured him in a tight vice or pull his attention away. She surprised him since the day they'd met on the plains when Calaerien held his hand so fiercely.
Legolas did not know what possessed him, but he swiftly gathered her into his arms. No words could possibly ease the suffering that Calaerien carried alone. He felt her surprise and stiff body but, slowly she melted into his embrace. Into his protection. She hesitantly wrapped his arms around his waist and rested her head against his shoulder. It surprised him how small she really was in his frame. How her head barely reached the crook of his neck. He found her warmth surprisingly inviting.
Extremely inviting….
Legolas snaked his fingers through her raven hair and tightened his hold. He pressed a soft peck on her temple before he allowed his silvery hair to mix in with her raven crown. Nothing could break him from her.
And they remained there for what felt like a lifetime in each other's embrace…
To be continued...
Thank you kindly for all the warm and lovely reviews! I love the questions I get and hopefully, I answer them! I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas and all are safe. Erweth's death was another scene I wrote early on. Unfortunately, I planned on her death very early and almost decided to have her die with Romonil but I chose to keep her for a little while. I must say, the more I write this story, the longer it gets. I only planned on a 10 chapter story but now I'm sure it might go over 20. Anyway, I got to work on the next chapter! Until next time!
OneWhoReadsTooMuch: Thank you for your review and your patience. I had a lot of fun writing Thranduil and Calaerien's intense conversation. It just kind of came to me while I was writing. Hopefully, you found their conversation in this chapter interesting...
FluffySlipperz: I totally know what you mean! I had a few stalkers who don't understand the concept of 'no'. Hopefully, you were able to stay friends. I try my best to respond to all my reviews. I appreciate each and every one of them. Although, it's a little harder to respond to guests when theirs a handful of them. I am glad this story brought some joy to you. That really warms my heart.
Ply-mouth: Thank you for your review.
JustAnotherJerk: Thank you for your encouragement, it was definitely needed. I understand your pet-peeve about the usage of elleth/elloth instead of man/woman. It is mine as well, which is why I try to stay diligent. Walk your talk, right?
Corrections: Thank you for pointing that out. I'll be sure to fix those typos.
Melissa Fairy: Thank you for your review! There will be a lot of intense scenes in this story. Calaerein's emotions are definitely nostalgic, which is how I personally think of elf love. From reading the books and such, there is not so much on how handsome or how beautiful their significant others are. So I did my diligence to lean away from physicals attributes and focus on the Fea/inner attributes.
Simplegurl4u: I appreciate your kind words and thank you for your compliment on my writing. Yes, King Thranduil was quite something and it is how I personally picture him. In the Hobbit book, you only get a small glimpse of him, so I hope I wrote him well. As weird as it may be, I struggled to let go of Erweth. Erweth and Calaerien (And other OCs) are of my creations, so it sad to see those characters go. However, it's all part of the master plan! So I will answer your question regarding if Thranduil had a 'thing' for Erweth and the answer would be no. He favored her because she served him with a willing heart. I'm trying to stay close to Tolkien's idea of elves and how they bond only once. (Even though the Silmarillion kinda doesn't.) As for your other question, keep reading to find out. ;)
City-of-dimes: Thank you for your review as for your question, keep in tune to learn the answer! ;)
Oistertkh: Thank you so much and I glad you like Calaerien's sweet side. This story is told heavily through Calaerien's eyes but I may weave Legolas's POV sometime in the future. Since you asked. ;)
Ariellette9784: Thank you for your reviews! The dancing scene was a lot of fun to write and I hoped I caught the 'essence' of the scene. As for your question, keep reading to find the answer.
MrDarcy'sWife: I do apologize for my long delay. As for most people, 2020 sucked. It was a particularly rough year for me since I intern at hospitals. Thank you for your review!
April2016: Thank you so much for your kind words and for leaving me a review!
Loney: Thank you for your review!
Thank you all for the reviews, favoriting/following this story, and PMing me. I appreciate it! I am currently reading The Last Wish by Andrzej Sapkowski. It's the witcher story if you're familiar with the Netflix series. It is an awesome book! Just so you know... *hint hint*