"Alarya?"
Cold ran through her body, turning her blood into ice as every head turned suddenly in the direction of the King. The air felt so still she could have cut through it with a blade. It felt silent, cold, penetrating and seeming to almost suffocate her in its emptiness, her heart seeming to have stopped beating. Suddenly, this enchanted cave seemed too large, the imposing stone walls stretching almost too coldly, hard and unyielding, trapping her inside, closing in on her, turning her own body into stone.
Nobody had moved, it was as if suddenly nobody even breathed. In her father's arms, the Queen was beginning to stir, her movements merely weak twitches of the head, her face rolling slowly to bury in her father's robes.
She could not tell what she felt. It was as if sharp claws had suddenly gripped her insides, twisting and turning, penetrating deeper and deeper in icy steel until she could not breathe. Her mother. The delicate Queen, currently starting to regain consciousness in her father's arms was her mother. And yet she was a complete stranger. How many times had she wishes she could remember her mother, that she could see her again, that she could finally get to know her. And now that the Queen was here, alive and waking, she suddenly realized just how much a stranger she would be.
Fear spread inside of her like poison as she realized that the Queen most probably would not even know how much time had passed. How would she react? Would her mother even know what had happened? Would she remember anything? And for the first she realized that meeting she would be as much of a stranger to the Queen as the Queen was to her.
And still, she could not help but stare. Stare at the long golden hair that fell almost lifelessly around the pale face, its shimmering locks tangled in unkempt waves: Hair so much like her own. Stare at that perfectly angled face with flawless pale skin, high cheekbones, small nose: Face so much like her own.
A weak moan echoed through the cave, a pair of foggy eyes slowly fluttering open, only half-way; green; emerald green; blinking a couple of times through a hazy blur. The faintest of smiles grew on the King's face, and yet never before had she seen more joy in a single barely noticeable gesture.
"Alarya?" She heard her father speak again, the voice barely above a whisper, pronouncing the name as if he could not say it enough times, or as if to make up for the many years in which it had remained locked away in the realm of memories, never to be heard out loud.
But this time, the owner of the mane would answer, this time she could hear it. Next to her Tadion was wide awake once more, sitting as stiff as the rest of her siblings, his clear blue eyes suddenly smiling brighter than his lisp ever could. She turned her head to look around her, finding that same frozen smiling expression on both Arahaelon and Lossenel's faces, even though none of them had moved even an inch. Yet, Legolas' face was different, silent, as if suddenly devoid of expression. No smile played on his lips, and for the first time she could not read his infinite ever welcoming eyes, an overwhelming combination of joy and fear, delight and worry seeming to swirl concealed behind the crystal depths of those infinite oceans. And for the first time she did not feel entirely alone, although the feeling did nothing to lighten her heart. To Legolas, the Queen was also a stranger, he had been only an elfling at the time, even if he could remember much more than her. To him, the Queen had been absent for the most part of his life.
"Alarya?" The King spoke again, and for the first time his voice trembled, gentle ice blue eyes meeting the foggy green ones, which such pure love that she instantly knew nobody else in Arda had ever been looked that way.
"Meleth?" The Queen spoke, barely a frail whisper that almost got lost between her lips. She seemed confused, disoriented, hazed emerald eyes looking at the King as if she could not remember where she was or why she was there. But she recognized him, that much was clear.
And that was all it took. One word. In that single fragile word, the Elvenking's lips broke into the widest of smiles. Ice blue eyes shone brighter than a thousand suns that could not turn away from that confused delicate face lying so close to him, shimmering behind the silver sparkle of tears that would not fall; tears that would not hurt. And in that second, as ice met forest, she felt as if a thousand things could be silently said, thigs that she did not understand. Btu she could not understand. She had never seen how deep and strong elven bonds ran over time, over years. And the power of it, reflected in a single look was overwhelming, even if she was aware that the bond between her parents had not entirely reformed yet. How deep would it run then?
"I am here." Her father spoke, the tender voice the one that did not belong to the King, but the husband. "How do you feel?"
"Tired." Came the reply, once again barely even above a whisper, the Queen 's green eyes falling closed for a second before opening again, her lips curving up in the ghosts of a smile. In the arms of her father, the Queen's body looked as fragile as her thin voice, still limp, too weak for her to even move. But none of the smiles in the room lessened. Tired. Out of all the fearful answers anyone could have been dreading, tired lightened many hearts. The Queen was alive, unharmed, awake and perfectly coherent in her thoughts and words. Her heart sank deeply in chest as she remembered that the twins' mother had not been as lucky.
"Then sleep, Arya." The King was quick to speak, the smile never fading face, eyes never looking away. One of her father's hands tenderly brushed a strand of golden hair behind the Queen's delicately pointed ear, touching the tangled strands as if they were frailer than crystal, more precious than gold, and for a moment she knew that her father would watch the Queen sleep for a thousand more years if it made her feel better.
"Where are we?" The Queen's emerald eyes looked around her for the first time, not seeming to be focusing on anything in particular, as if for the first time noticing her surroundings.
"The Caves." The King did not specify, giving little importance to the topic, eyes studying the Queen's every movement, every twitch, but the delicate lady simply nodded her head.
"Why are we here?" The Queen continued asking, confused eyes once more landing on her husband's as if she was trying to make sense of something that seemed lost to her, something that she could not quite reach. "Why do I feel so tired?"
"You have been asleep for a long time." Was all her father used as an explanation, as fi he did not want to go there, did not want to recall that he had not looked for the Queen after so many years.
"I do not remember." Green eyes fell closed once more, silently breathing for some long minutes, nobody moving.
Just when she though the Queen had fallen asleep again, her eyes suddenly snapped open, wide, an abrupt terrified gasp leaving her lips as her eyes looked frantically at the King, weak hands trying to grasp at his robes.
"The baby!" The Queen suddenly struggled with her words which left her mouth in a quick hastened blur, as if she could not speak them fast enough. "Thranduil, the baby! Almarëa! I could not….I was…..Imladris….. they stopped us!...where is the baby! Thranduil!"
Her heart flipped inside her chest, blood running cold at the sight of the Queen in sudden hysterics, he own name reaching her ears like a daunting dagger. The Queen did remember, but she did not know just how much time she had missed. And she suddenly desperately wanted to know what exactly had happened so many years ago, when she had been the only surviving being in the midst of chaos, to be raised among men. She wanted to know what the Queen knew. She wanted to know why had the Queen not been with her then? Why had she been with that green eyed lady that resembled her mother so much, the lady that she could still see lying dead on the ground in her sleep?
"Shhhh." Her father desperately tried to calm the panicking Queen, pressing her body against his chest, but her mother barely seemed able to get a proper breath in between shaken pants and gasps, wide eyes stained with terror. "Almarëa is fine. Eveyrone is fine, Arya."
"No…"The Queen continued to gasp, as if her mind was desperately trying to stitch her last experienced memory with the sudden place she currently found herself at "I had her…..and then…..I….."
"Shhh, Arya, look at me. Look at me." Gentle hands cupped the Queen's delicate cheeks, gaining the attention of those wide emerald eyes. "Almarëa is all right. Everyone is all right. Breathe. You are safe."
"But – " The Queen gasped, suddenly more confused than before, the panic and fear not leaving her shaking frail voice.
"It was a long time ago." The King interrupted her, his gentle voice as steady as the comforting calmness of soothing waves over sand. "You are safe. That was a long time ago."
"No –" The Queen breathed out, not seeming to fully understand her husband's words, as if her mind was telling her differently. Nonetheless, she had stopped moving frantically around, her breaths somewhat steadier, although still shaky and uneven. "How?"
"You were asleep for a long time." The King repeated, and by the look in his ice blue eyes it was as if each one of those words as a sharp edged dagger sinking deeply inside of him. "Everyone is fine. You have nothing to worry about."
"Where is the baby?" The Queen's voice was barely audible once again, puzzled eyes searching on her husband's for reassurance, as if torn in between the part of her that believed her husband and the part that could not make sense of what he said.
She felt her body stiffen, her eyes dropping down to gaze at her lap, not knowing how to react, not knowing how the Queen would react.
"She is not a baby any longer." Her father's soft words travelled the cave with a hollow echo, bouncing off the massive stone with the ghostly softness of a haunting hand. Through the corner of her eyes, she saw the Queen grow still, silent.
"Where are they?" The words left the Queen's mouth in a slow whispered procession, suddenly sounding solemn, troubled, her emerald eyes never once leaving the comfort of the King's ice blue irises. She did not need to ask to know who the Queen had mean by 'they'. It was them. Her children.
For the first time the King's eyes glanced across the cave, looking away from her mother's face to find the five of them sitting quietly against the cold wall. Almost immediately, the Queen's eyes turned, easily following the path of her husbands, falling on the five figures siting in complete silence. But the Queen's eyes did not instantly find hers, landing almost all too quickly on her two elder sons, who had suddenly risen to his feet and were already crossing the cave in long strides.
"Arahaelon, my son" The Queen breathed out as her eldest son was the first to reach her side, a wide motherly smile, the warmest she had ever seen drawing on her lips. She seemed to be taking in every single aspect of the Crown Prince, eyes narrowing slightly, confused. "You look different…"
"He looks uglier." Tadion's voice smiled as brightly as his eyes as he too dropped himself to his knees next to his parents, but Arahaelon did not seem to have heard his brother's mocking remark, or if he did he did not seem to mind it in the least.
"Tadion." The Queen's smile turned to glance at her second son, her delicate face not reflecting even a fragment of the weakness that seemed to consume her fragile body, supported delicately against the King's chest. "Do not mock your brother."
"I missed you, Nana." Tadion was the one to speak, the carefree tone in his vice carrying that usual teasing gleam, and yet the look in his eyes held no joke at all, bright and clear as a cloudless sky.
And it would have taken a fool not to notice the difference in between how the Queen looked at her sons, and how they looked at her. All eyes held the deepest swirls of love and warmth, and yet the Queen's eyes looked at her son's as if she had always been looking at them, as if no time at all had passed, almost casual. But to her mother, no time had passed at all, even if she had just heard it from her husbands' mouth.
In front of her, she could see Lossenel slowly approaching her parents, and she pushed herself to her feet. She did not really know what to do, did not really wanted to approach but also did not want to stay sitting there, doing nothing. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Legolas doing the same, slowly walking some steps ahead of her.
Next to the King, Arahaelon had remained silent, smiling widely at the Queen yet letting Tadion do all the talking, although she had lost track of what it was he was saying. For the first time the Crown Prince's eyes held no barrier at all, emerald irises completely open, all sort of emotions swirling deeply in the depths of those unconcealed emeralds. It was a look she had seen so few times, and a look that appeared all too odd, all too heartwarming.
"Nana." Even Lossenel's voice sounded different, the sound almost breaking yet carrying the deepest joy and relief she could imagine, the sound of someone waking up from a too long nightmare.
Nana. She did not know what to make of that word, did not even know if her own lips would pronounce it. It sounded so strange, as distant as she felt to this gorgeous delicate lady that she knew was her mother. But she had had a mother, a mortal mother. A woman who had brushed away all of her tears, a woman who had sang her to sleep at night, who had cuddled her, laughed with her, raised her. And that woman was not this elven Queen lying her father's arms. And yet it was. Even if her mind could not remember it was as if her spirit did, remembering a presence that could never be fully forgotten. It felt too strange, too unreal.
"Lossie." The Queen's eyes had turn to glance at the stunning snowy princess, looking at her as if she was nothing but a small elfling, that warm smile never leaving her face. But then again, she guessed that to the Queen all of her children would forever be elflings, no matter how old they were.
And then the Queen's eyes fell on Legolas. The corners of her warm smile slowly dropped, her face suddenly stunned. Bright emerald eyes were a looking at a face so familiar and yet so different, a thousand of emotions she could not recognize suddenly glowing dimly in the depths of her green irises. Cold seconds stretched like hours, the Queen looking at her son as if she could not believe her eyes, as fi something had suddenly died deep inside of her, the most heart twisting pain suddenly reflected in her tortured green eyes.
"Legolas?" The name came out as a question, even though she could see in the Queen's eyes that she had not doubt it was her son. The voice trembled, for the first time breaking, emerald eyes suddenly seeming eager to take in every inch of her son, memorizing every detail, every hair, and yet not believing it, looking agonized, cheated by time.
A sad smile grew on the corners of Legolas' lips, halfway reaching his eyes, sad yet happy. But the torture in the Queen's expression did not seem to lessen, and it looked as if for the first time her husband's words were finally catching up in her head. But of course, none of her other siblings had looked any different than what they had probably looked when the Queen had supposedly died. They had already been grown. And yet, Legolas had been only an elfling.
Almost too slowly, the Queen's eyes shifted from Legolas to her, green meeting green, and she felt as if she was looking back at herself. The Queen's eyes seemed as if petrified, and yet so powerful, so strong, looking at her in the same way she had previously looked at Legolas, as if taking in every single aspect of her face, every single feature. She did not move, felling as if her body had turned to cold stone.
"Almarëa…." The slow whisper felt too loudly in the still silent air, but she could not look away from the Queen, away from this elven lady that she knew was her mother. For a split of a second she had thought the Queen would not recognize her, she had bene nothing but a baby at the time, but of course the Queen would know who she was no matter what, no matter how much time had passed.
And then, almost too shortly after, the Queen's head had suddenly turned to glance at her husband, her face tortured, pained, scared, eyes seeming to plead at him something that they all knew he could not change.
"No…."It was all that left her mother's mouth, voice seeming to curse the time that cheated her, curse the years that had been taken from her without her even knowing, and she saw the King's eyes suddenly fall closed, strong arms pressing the Queen closer to him, the later closing her eyes tightly. "…No…"
She did not know what to do, what to think, but before she had any time to react, Legolas was suddenly walking away, fast long strides heading in the direction of the narrow stream and the darkening paths of the cave ahead. She could not tell why she did it, but she followed, her feet moving quickly in order to try to catch up with her brother. She was barely aware of someone calling her name softly from behind, calling Legolas name, barely even less ware of the Queen's quiet pained sobs as she buried her face in the King's body.
He jumped the stream in a swift move, and she imitated him, although not as gracefully, trying to keep up with him as he turned left and then right through the maze of stone, the silvery dancing glow of the scribblings and symbols on the walls tracing floating patterns over the hard cold ground. They glowed dimmer now, seeming to be losing strength in their shimmering light the farther they moved through the wide natural corridors.
She started to wonder for how long would her brother walk, how farther would he go, but he suddenly stopped, standing still in the midst of a darker part of the cave, eyes looking at nothing specifically. She stopped next to him, not really finding anything to say, but at the same time not wanting to say anything.
His gentle blue eyes turned to look at her, those eyes that she had come to know, always kind, always warm, and he offered her a soft smile. She did not need to ask him why he had walked away, for it had been the same reason as her. It had been too much, too overwhelming, to surreal.
"You remember her." She broke the silence, already knowing the answer to her question and nonetheless somehow needing to hear it with her own eyes.
"Yes." Legolas smiled as he spoke, a strange look crossing his eyes, as if the memories were both beautiful yet painful. "I remember her perfectly well. It is just…"
He trailed off, the smile never leaving his face, a smile that oscillated in between joy and relief and at the same time a deep edge of sorrow, as in in front of a wish that had finally fulfilled yet changed nothing of the past.
"I missed a lot." He concluded, and it once again seemed as if even through the remembered pained there was a strange edge of happiness that seemed to make everything all the more confusing, as if he did not know what to make of the situation. "You missed a lot too."
"I do not remember." She added, walking a step closer to him, feeling comfort in his safe presence. And for the first time she did not know if not remembering could be considered a good thing, at least she did not remember any pain, any sense of loss.
"It will be all right." His smile widened as he looked at her, and for a second she did not know if he was talking to her or to himself.
The dim silver light had waned in this part of the caves, becoming only the ghostly trace of a translucent shimmer. Slanted elegant scribbling still covered every inch of the imposing stone walls, stretching all the way up, so high that she could not see the ends, only watching them dissapear into black shadows over their heads. There were no roots here, no indication of any sort of forest life that seemed to penetrate through these parts of the caves, and she wondered just how big this maze of stone was, how wide it extended.
"Do you know what is written on the walls?" She changed the topic, watching as Legolas' eyes drifted upwards to gaze at the thousands of symbols.
"Stories." He shrugged, his long pale hair looking oddly white in the dim grey light. "Myths, tales of old, of how we came here….I am not entirely sure of what they say though."
"Can you not read it?" She narrowed her eyes, but he merely shook his head as a reply.
"No." He spoke as it was an obvious thing, not really seeming to care about it. "This is old script, I am not even sure Ada can read it, very few elves would be able to."
She let her eye study the scribblings, following the slanted elegant incisions on the stone, falling on symbol after symbol. She had seen some of these symbols before, had seen them in the deep caves below the Palace when they had crossed the undergrown river, not too long ago. Did these caves reach all the way there?
And then she felt her heart skip a beat, her stomach sinking inside of her, images of the cavernous ruins she had accidentally encountered with Elladan flashing before her eyes. She remembered them all too vividly, the stone shaped and carved like columns, stretching into long forgotten halls, scribblings adorning almost every inch of wall. It was the place where they had found the Queen, the place where the flaming red eye had finally seen her.
A cold shiver ran down her spine, and she tried to push her thoughts away. It could not be the same caves could it? These caverns could not be all connected. They were in a safe place. They were in the heart of the forest, with the King. Nobody could find this place. But then again she had believed that nobody could keep the Queen hidden in unconsciousness for so many years while still managing to make the King believe she was dead by severing their bond.
Still, the absence of roots protruding through the stone mad her uneasy, as if safe only meant within the protection of the trees, the protection of the forest, the protection of the King.
"How far does this go?" She asked, motioning with a hand to the extending blackness in front of them, where the twisting stone chambers turned again left and disappeared through the darkness.
"It is hard to tell." Was all he said, eyes following the direction of her hand. "You could get lost in here and never find the light of day again unless you know your way."
"But only the King can find the heart of the forest." She repeated, stressing the words that had been told to her. She did not understand now. "How can it stretch so long? How could anyone get lost in here, if nobody can access this place."
"Only the King can find the heart of the forest." He confirmed, and yet his infinite blue eyes were looking at her funnily, as if knowing that she had not completely understood. "It is where we were, beyond the stream. Nobody can find that place, but you cannot expect the caverns to remain all hidden."
Of course. She had been right in her instincts, right in the uneasy feeling that the absence of swirling tree roots gave her. She remembered Arahaelon and Lossenel leaving some hours before to check their surroundings, and it suddenly made more sense now, remembering how the Crown Prince had even handed his sister a bow to use in case.
"But then how are we going to head back?" She asked, suddenly scared to be lost in this maze eternally. They had jumped over the stream.
And yet he laughed at her question, a quiet round of delighted laugher that managed to make her a lot less worried.
"The same way we came." He added between chuckles, offering a reassuring warm smile. "Ada is there, the place will not hide from us, you will notice no difference."
"Then we should head back." She spoke. Legolas' words had somewhat reassured her, and yet she did not feel any less uneasy, any less nervous not knowing what could find them in these infinitely extending dark labyrinth. It did not feel right.
"We are safe. We are not far away." He smiled at her, but she could not find it in herself to believe his words. They were not safe. He had not seen those corridors, those forgotten halls. He had not seen the eye burning behind his closed eyes, had not seen the dark cloak figures materializing out of the dark shadows, jumping from the caves as if they knew them all too well.
She opened her mouth to argue in return but was cut off by the sudden wound of voices and approaching quick steps.
"Legolas!, Almarëa!" Her head turned around at the familiar voice, eyes landing on the tall figure of the Crown Prince, quickly approaching them.
"What are you doing out here? And unarmed?" Arahaelon's voice was peaceful, and yet his emerald eyes burned through his younger brother almost mercilessly, suddenly seeming worried and alert. "Come back."
"We are fine." Legolas' argued in return, even though his voice remained gentle. "You are not armed either."
"Because I came after you." The Crown Prince's voice left not space for argument, voice that calmed soft tone that carried so much authority it was impossible to ignore. And yet, he spoke too lowly, as if not wanting his voice to be heard by anything other than their ears. "It is not fine here, come back. Quickly."
Cold shivers gripped at her arms as she did not miss the wary alert look in her eldest brother's eyes, which seemed to carefully study every inch of their surroundings, listening and watching intently. What had he seen? Had he and Lossenel found something in their exploration? Or was he merely being cautious? She could no odd magic around, no strange power, nothing.
"Let us go back." She pleaded Legolas with her eyes, even though she knew he did not yet want to face their mother, did not yet want to come to terms with all the time that he had lost, the childhood that could have been so different.
"Fine." Legolas breathed out after what felt like an eternity, but part of her had already know that he would listen to his eldest brother; he always did.
He did not add anything else, slowly turning around and starting his march back the way they had come. Next to her she noticed Arahaelon's eyes still watching intently around them, waiting for a second before moving too, one of his hands gently resting over her shoulder as if silently reassuring her.
And then he abruptly stopped, his head slapping to look behind him. She felt her heart jump, the hand over her shoulder suddenly tightening, squeezing harder. She immediately turned to look but saw nothing, and yet Arahaelon seemed suddenly tense. Her eyes flew to find Legolas, only to her other brother standing equally as still, eyes alarmed, ready.
"Move!" The Crown Prince suddenly hissed urgently in her ears, barely even a whisper, eyes not turning to look at her.
The hand on her shoulder pushed her suddenly in Legolas' direction, and she stumbled to run, her feet moving almost immediately. She had taken only one step when the same hand had suddenly curled around her arm, violently pulling her in the opposite direction, and she could not even tell what was happening. She caught a haze of a shadow fly just in the direction where she had been previously instructed to run and her hands immediately flew to grip at her eldest brother's arm. She could see shadows flying through her peripheral vision, but could not spot where they were.
She barely saw one of Arahaelon's hands flying to reach the ground, the move too quick for her to even see, and then he was throwing something at her face. She opened her mouth in surprise, but no sound came, her eyes siting painfully at the handful of dust and dried dirt that had been thrown right into her open eyes. She could not see, could not even manage to open her eyes which were suddenly crying tears in an effort to get rid of the invasive dust.
And then, there were hands on her, hands that she did not recognize, snatching her away from Arahaelon. She tried to fight, throwing random punches and kicks, her ears picking up the unmistaken sound of many cloaks moving around swiftly, and another struggle not too far from her. She almost cried in despair as she was brutally pushed to the ground, her body pressed to the cold hard surface. She forced he eyes open, fighting against the painful sting, fear building at the pit of her stomach as her eyes shed tears almost endlessly, feeling red and swollen.
Six, perhaps seven, tall cloaked figures were standing right before her eyes, seeming like shadowy dark silhouettes that made her stomach turn. She could not see any of their faces, the black hoods thrown over their heads too dark. For a second she forgot how to breath, her eyes searching all around her for a way out, but she was entirely surrounded.
Arahaelon was still there, pressed to the cold ground next to her, held down by four cloaked figures. A fifth figure held a sharp twisted dagger against the Crown Prince's pale neck, held steady in a slender gloved hand, the garment as back as the long cloaks, and being the only thing that prevented Arahaelon from moving.
"My Lord." The elf holding the dagger spoke, his voice a cold haunted whispered, so that she could not identify it even if she tried, and the twisted mocking of her brother's title made her struggle harder against the arms restraining her.
A hand slapped her face, and she stopped moving, her eyes falling shut once more, still stinging too much. She had to see. She had to opened her eyes. And she forced her eyelids to open once more, fighting against the painful sting, her breath catching inside her chest as she looked carefully all around them, something else suddenly clicking. Legolas was not there. He was nowhere to be seen. Had he managed to run back?
"Stand up." The whispered voice spoke once more, commanding her brother almost in a rush, but Arahaelon did not move. The Crown Prince's face remained a perfectly composed mask of calmness, as if he was merely sitting peacefully overlooking the gardens. But the cloaked figure was having none of it, clearly lacking patience as he pressed the cold blade a little harder, almost cutting through her brother's skin. "I said, stand up."
Slowly, Arahaelon rose to his feet, the four elves holding him quickly restraining his arms behind his back in a move that seemed so violent she was sure must have been painful. But her eldest brother did not react to anything, emerald eyes piercing menacingly through the cloaked figure that still held the dagger to his neck.
"Her." Was all the command the figure gave before suddenly the cloaked silhouettes surrounding her started moving her around, a cold gloved hand grabbing her by the chin, seeming to be carefully inspecting her face.
"Is it her?" The cloaked in figure that appeared to be in charge seemed to be running impatient, an unmistakable rush in his whispered cold voice telling her that he did not wish to linger for long.
The hand on her chin forcefully turned her head to face another cloaked figure leaning closer to her, as if trying to recognize her. And then it dawned on her, so obvious that if felt like a window in the darkest of rooms. The cloaked figures did not know how she looked exactly, could not easily recognize her. So whoever these elves were, they had not been at the Palace since her arrival, could not point her out among a crowd.
And for the first time she was overly aware and glad for the manner in which her long golden locks were tangled in a mess, the color stained grey from the ashes it had gathered in the forest, from the dirt that had spread through it. Her face must have looked as smudged with dirt as her hair.
"I cannot tell." Whispered the figure holding her chin, and once again she did not recognize the voice, merely only a hiss.
She caught something out of the corner of her eyes, a split of movement too faint for it to go detected. She forced her eyes to stay fixed on the cloaked figure in front of her, watching through the periphery without turning. Legolas. She could see him hidden in the shadows, far enough not to be noticed by any of the on looking figures. She felt her heart beat once more in her chest, forcing herself to remain steady, to not give him away.
There was no way she could run to him without being caught. And there was no way she could break herself free from the many restraining hands.
"Look at her eyes." Snarled the figure in charge, still pressing the sharp blade closely against Arahaelon's neck. "Green, like this one's."
"Open your eyes properly." The figure holding her chin snapped at her, fingers pressing so harshly against her jaws that she felt as if they were going to break it. She struggled to open her eyes wider, blinking against the dirt and dust that made sting all too badly, blinking through more hazy tears.
"I cannot see the color…they are swollen." The cloaked figure hissed, forcefully turning her head left and right as if to get a better view.
"Not green…." The figure concluded, and she suddenly knew that in the dim light and through the thick cloud of dust and dirt that stained her eyes and made them cry nonstop, the bright color of her irises must have been dulled. "They look dark…."
Her crying eyes looked around her frantically, searching for a window, searching for something, anything. There had to be a way out. But the hands were holding at her too tightly, and there were too many of them.
"Move. Fast. The King will be around, better not be here then." The figure in charge hissed again, and the cloaked figures that had been holding Arahaelon back started to move forward, pushing him along with them. Another figure had unsheathed a long sharp blade, no pushing the tip right against Arahaelon's back, just above the point where his hands were being held.
She almost expected to be pulled to stand as well, but the figures holding her did not move. Instead she felt something being tied around her wrists tightly, holding them together: a rope. And then there was something falling before her eyes, a piece of cloth, sealing her vision until she could not see anything, tying it tightly behind her head.
Suddenly she felt herself being thrown against the wall, the movement in her blindness disorienting her, not knowing in which direction she had moved, only feeling the pain where the hard stone collided against her back. She bit back her surprised cry, not letting out a sound. There were no hands holding her any longer. She could not even hear the figures anymore.
Another pair of hands fell on her, and she thrashed and kicked, one hand suddenly pressed tightly against her mouth with fingers snatched the dark cloth from around her eyes. She blinked, a pale face suddenly appearing before her eyes.
Infinite blue eyes were fixed on her, and she felt her heart calm down slightly at the sight of her brother, immediately stopping her thrashing. One of Legolas' fingers went to his lips, as if indicating her to be completely silent, and she did, not having any intention to speak.
"Quickly." Legola's voice was barely audible, and she had to partially read his lips as his quick fingers untied the ropes holding her wrists. The knots must not have been too complicated then…then why put them? "We need to head back."
And before she could say anything else Legolas was already guiding her back the way they had come at a rush pace, not looking back. But her eyes scanned her surroundings just as they set into a run for safety: The cloaked figures were no longer anywhere to be seen….and neither was the Crown Prince.
Hey there! Here is chapter 49! Nearly fifty, wow! I hope you enjoy it. It was supposed to be part of the previous chapter but the word count was too large so I decided to split it. Anywyas, part of the promised surprises are here and another part was on the previous chapter. I know Alarya's scene was short but there are way more details on that to come as she story progresses.
Thank you so much to those who reviewed the last chapter! I hope the wait was not too long, I've been trying to update the stories as regularly as possible: The Lead Mare, Mika, Amsim, Teddy2104, brandibuckeye, StarFilledSkies, Josie, and lovingyoueternally.
Love,
Elena