She ran. Her feet sinking on the dry, ash covered grass the filled the gardens, not even knowing when or how she had ended up there. But she did not stop. She did not want to stop. All she wanted was to get away. Away from Arahaelon's bedchamber, away from the irate Tadion, away from Legolas' apologetic eyes…The Queen had followed her, or had started to, but she had been faster, and had lost her behind some time ago. She had known the Queen would not be able to follow her for long, her limbs still too weak from years of disuse, and she had used that to her advantage.
She finally stopped, nearly plummeting over a white stone bench, finally out of breath. Her side hurt, and she had to clutch at it while she struggled to get air into her lungs. For the first time her eyes noticed her surroundings, sweeping uninterested through the small flower beds and tiny stone steps that follow around the edge of a wide pond. She had never been there before. Yet another part of the Palace that she did not know.
Her fingers fidgeted with her night robe, smoothing the wrinkles over her lap almost out of a nervous habit. But she was not alone. A figure, a lady, was standing in the middle of the pond, only a couple of meters away from her. The black surface of the water reached up to the delicate figure's ankles, the bottom of her dress floating eerily around her, tangling in the mass of water lilies and pads that floated around her like a wide halo. She had to look twice to make sure that her eyes had not played tricks on her, that she was not simply seeing things, finding the sight so extremely odd. But she had seen correctly. The lady was indeed standing in the middle of the pond, and all of her, except her feet, was completely dry.
"How did you get there?" She snapped, her voice carrying over the empty gardens easily, betraying more of her frustration than she would have liked.
"Walking, Your Highness." Indilene's soft ghazel eyes turned in her direction from the distance, her face so completely gentle, as if her tone had been warm and inviting. The lady's lips curved up in a faint smile that she would not quite read, as fi there was some kind of hidden humor in her words that she could not quite comprehend.
"You walk on water now?" She replied, not knowing why but finding Indilene's ambiguous reply almost infuriating.
"No, Your Highness." Indilene's strange smile remained on her lips as she spoke, and she wondered if she was silently being mocked. "But your brother does."
"You are speaking in riddles now." She grunted, turning her eyes way from the lady's soft features, the later not adding anything else, and yet not seeming to mind her awful mood in the slightest bit.
But she could not help herself, her forest green eyes once again wondering towards the delicate lady, watching her thin frame appear to float among the ghostly white lilies, her honey colored eyes inspecting the water around her. And still, there was something oddly soothing about her presence, as if the lady could read so easily and clearly that she did not quite wanted conversation.
"Are you looking for something?" She called out again, Indilene's face snapping up to look at her.
"Not really." She replied, offering her a small smile, as warm and soft as the features of her pale face. "What I lost in here I will never find again."
Now that she had not understood. Too curious to help herself, she pushed herself to her feet, her pale green night robe brushing her legs and scratching silently against the white stone of the bench. The dry grass crunched underneath her feet as she walked to the water's edge, not stopping to think before slipping out of her leather slippers, stepping down into the first of a series of stone steps that led into the pond. The freezing water made goosebumps appear on her skin, barely reaching her ankles, but she did not go down a second step, not wanting to get any more wet.
"I want to get there." She said, not really asking Indilene whether or not she would join her, but the patient lady once again did not seem to mind, and once again she had the odd feeling that the lady had somehow already predicted her words.
"Swimming?" Indilene asked back, an amused sparkle gleaming in her honey colored eyes, another glint of humor that she could not understand.
"I take it you did not swim all the way there?" She raised an eyebrow, indicating with her eyes at Indilene's perfectly dry pale turquoise dress and loose ash colored hair.
"There is a rock to your right." Indilene's soft musical voice carried over the surface of the water, and her emerald eyes darted immediately to where she had indicated, not really seeing anything through the mirror surface. "Wait for a few seconds, you will see the water splash slight over it."
She threw Indilene one last skeptical look, once again doubting if the lady was playing tricks on her, but did not say anything in return, deciding to trust the lady. And Indilene had not been playing tricks, for a couple of minutes later, and following the lady's detailed instructions, she founder herself standing over a wide flat platform full of water lilies.
"How did you discover this?" She asked, mesmerized by the hidden path on the seemingly deep pond. Indilene simply shrugged, that strange smile once again adorning her face. But now that she was closer, she could see the edge of concealed sadness and worry in her expression.
"Your bother showed me." Indilene said flatly, lowering herself to sit on the stone platform, not seeming to care as the freezing water soaked her dress and reached up to her waist.
She did not ask for details, not knowing why but suddenly finding it hard to picture the Crown Prince jumping over hidden rocks on the pond just to step on this odd platform. And stranger than that was trying to picture him bringing Indilene along. Instead, she lowered herself next to the thin lady, shuddering once as the cold water soaked through her night robe. And yet, Indilene's presence was somewhat comforting, relaxing even, to simply sit there with someone who was not her family or the twins, who would ask her countless times whether or not she was alright, or how she was feeling, or attempt to comfort her, but was neither a servant who simply do whatever she asked. She was just….company, another elf to be around and talk.
For a log moment, silence settled comfortably over the pond, the soft spring breeze casting ripples that distorted the reflections of the clouds upon its surface. She took a long look at Indilene, for the first time noticing the dark bruise on the right side of her face, just above her cheekbone, and her right hand was heavily bandaged.
"What happened?" She asked, motioning with her eyes to the lady's right hand. It took Indilene a second to even notice what she was asking about, her honey colored eyes dropping confused to her hands, as if her thoughts had been so invested in something else that she could not even remember the pristine white bandages.
"The tree where I was caught fire, and collapsed." She explained hollowly, as if she was merely talking about a boring book she had recently read. But that did not stop the pang of sorrow that struck her heart at the words. It seemed that nobody had escaped the battle unscratched.
Once again, she did not add anything else, the comfortable soothing silence settling once more over the salutary garden. Somewhere in the distance a bird chirped, the musical sound feeling so out of place in the midst of the burnt and dead forest around.
"How is he?" Indielene broke the silence, her face suddenly turning to look at her, as if she could no longer resist the urge to ask. So that was what had been plaguing the lady's mind all along.
Her forest green eyes dropped to the lily pads almost immediately, the overwhelming guilt, and fear and frustration once again starting to pool at the pit of her stomach. But there was no point in denying anything. The whole realm must have already known that the Crown Prince was not well. Valar he was even injured before the battle.
"I do not know." She answered honestly, watching painfully as Indilene merely nodded in return, seeming to be biting her tongue not to ask for details.
"Can I…" the lady started, seeming to be hesitant about finishing her sentence yet not quite able to stop herself. "Can I go see him?"
Her heart sank inside of her, wishing once again that she could deliver a different answer. It was in moments like this that she was reminded that her family, the elves with whom she spent so much time, were also the Royal Family, and that access to the Private Wing of the Palace was strictly regulated for the time being. And Arahaelon…he was not merely another injured elf in the healing wing. He was the Crown Prince and nobody, except for direct family and the healers would be allowed inside his chambers at the moment, not while he could not grant consent himself.
"I am sorry." She managed to say, offering the gentle lady an apologetic smile that made her think of the one Legolas had given her only minutes ago, wondering if Indilene would hate just as much as she did. "I can try to take you there, but…"
"I will not be allowed inside." Indilene interrupted her, as if she had already known the answer to her won question but had needed to ask anyway. Her heart sank even further inside her chest. It was not fair. If it had been Elladan the one injured and she had not been allowed to see him she would had been screaming and yelling in fury and despair. But there was nothing any of them could not at the moment. Indilene would not be allowed into the Royal Wing to see Arahaelon right now.
"He is unconscious." She added, trying but failing to sound somewhat comforting. "He cannot tell you are not there…if that somehow helps…"
"It does not." Was all Indilene said, curling her thin bony arms around her knees, eyes gazing at the water's edge in the distance. She could not tell exactly why, but there was something likable and comfortable in Indilene's gentle honesty.
"Almarëa."
Her head snapped up at the unexpected voice, eyes landing on Legolas' figure quickly entering the garden, close to the water's edge. Had he followed her? No. She had been sitting here with Indilene for nearly an hour now. If he had been following her all the time he would have reached her sooner. So he had come looking for her instead?
Her brother's infinite blue eyes narrowed slightly in confusion and surprise as he took hold of her and Indilene sitting at the middle of the pond, and she knew exactly how strange the sight was. But stranger than that was the fact that the youngest Prince was wearing long formal pale blue robes, not the simple tunic that he had been wearing only an hour ago, when she had snapped at him by Arahaelon's door. His long pale blond hair was neatly combed and braided behind his back, adorned with hundreds of tiny silver beads, an equally silver thin circlet resting over his head, a symbol of his title.
"How did you two get there?" He asked the same question she herself had asked Indilene not too long ago, for the first time in a long moment making a real chuckle escape her lips.
"Walking." She repeated Indilene's answer, rising up to her feet. The spring air felt colder over the wet body, her night robes now sticking to her figure and dripping onto the lily pads, tangling with her legs. "Did you follow me?"
She did not wait for an answer before throwing herself into the freezing water, not bothering to once again follow the hidden path of rocks. She was already soaked through anyway. Contrary to her, Indilene had not moved, remaining sitting there amidst the lilies as if it was her favorite place in Arda.
"Ada sent me to find you." Legolas explained as she reached the water's edge, offering her a hand to pull her up the shore. She threw her long golden hair over her shoulder, turning around once and attempting to squeeze out as much of the freezing water form it as possible, forcing Legolas to hastily jump back in order to avoid his robes from getting wet.
"You should come change, Rëa." He added, his voice ever so welcoming, always the kind brother, one of his hands softly landing on her back and starting to lead her away from the pond and through the small garden. She turned her head around to throw one las glance at Indilene, waving at her one before turning her attention back to the front. Little did the ashen haired lady how comforting her company had been, even if for such a short amount to time.
"Change for what?" She asked as they crossed over a larger garden full with what must have been rose beds, but were nothing more than dry sticks and ashes now. "Why are you dressed in robes?"
"The trial." Her bother answered flatly, as if the words left a sour taste in his mouth.
"Trial?" She was confused, not quite following along. A soft breeze coursed through the gardens, making her shudder as the freezing fabric of her drenched night robe clung closed to her.
"Yes, trial." Legolas added patiently, guiding along another garden, this time sporting a long gazebo to one corner, the structure seeming to have remained miraculously untouched by the battle. "that…..elf's….trial." He seemed to struggle with the word, as though the really wanted to call the elf something else, but decided against it, the words sounding bitter.
Suddenly, her stomach tied in tight knots, her body going tense, for the first time catching up to what her brother was saying. The elf. That elf. She could almost see him once again, so vividly, standing there, to one corner of the night lit courtyard, wanting to make himself invisible with his red hair like a torch that called attention to him. And suddenly a powerful overwhelming hatred blossomed like venom through her veins.
He will be dealt with in due time. She could almost hear Elladan's words once again on her mind, just as he had told her that night. So the time had come.
"Do I get to attend?" She asked, a little surprised that her father had sent for her for such an occasion. Bu then again she had never witnessed a trial before, not in her relatively short time at Mirkwood. She did not really know how they were carried.
"You do not have to." Legolas explained, just as they walked over the wide marble steps that led into the Palace's terraces and into the maze of labyrinthine corridors, line with tall pointed arches. "But it would be better seen if you do attend. Indilene should attend to, but I am not sure she will."
"Why?" She was more confused than before, throwing her older brother a long questioning look as they climb a tall marble staircase. "What does Indilene have to do with the trial?"
"Nothing." Legolas shrugged. "She should merely be in the crowd of witnesses. Trials like this require a lot of elves present, so that the judgement can be made fairly and in front of many witnesses to attest to it. It includes all of us (the Royal Family), the council, and then a small crowd of elves elected by rank. All the high lords and ladies will be there, I can assure you."
She swallowed once, not really knowing how she felt about standing there, about to hear that wild and maddened elf be judged, when all she wanted was to never lay eyes on his figure again. She was consumed in her thoughts that she barely even noticed once they reached her bedchambers, her heart only swelling in warmth at the sight of the still fast asleep Elladan, lying on the couch. He had not moved an inch since she had last seen him, and she did not have the heart to wake him, not when he looked so peaceful, so calm. Instead, she walking in his direction, not really caring that Legolas was still there adding something in a low voice to one of her maids, and placed a gentle kiss on his soft pale cheek. He did not even stir, a thing that made a wide smile cross her lips. Whatever herbs Lord Elrond had sneaked into his tea the night before must have been very very strong. Elrohir was nowhere to be found.
Minutes later, and before she could even realize it, she was once again following Legolas down the long corridors and halls of the Palace. Her long golden hair had now been dried and neatly braided in long plaits adorned with tiny sapphires. She wore an elegant royal blue dress, the velvet fabric incredibly rich, once again making her wonder if she would ever get used to wearing such finery. Neither of them spoke, not even uttering a word as they made their slow silent march down the corridors, as if both of their minds were plagued by too many thoughts, too many worries to even speak.
Sooner than she would have liked, the had reached a tall pair of wide open doors, so tall and massive that they could practically fill a whole wall. The four guards flaking the entrance bowed respectfully at them, letting them through without a single word.
She heard the crowd of elves before she even saw them, their voices carrying over the impossibly high ceiling in a soft unintelligible murmur. Not really knowing what to do, she focused on following Legolas, her brother crossing the ample hall as he had done it a thousand times, his head held high, a Prince.
Her eyes roamed about the foreign room, glancing up the thing columns that rose nearly to the sky, branching out of the form of leaves to carry the intricate patterns of the ceiling high enough to fit a mountain below it. The columns lined the massive hall in two perfectly aligned rows that ran through the center of it, creating three wide aisles, the middle one being the widest. Elves stood in ordered rows at the outermost aisle, to her left and right, along the columns, their robes and dresses and jewels making the event seem as though it was a feast instead of a trial. None of their faces she recognized, save a short few she remembered seeing on the Winter's Solstice celebration.
At the end of the hall, an over a raised platform was the King, sitting over an intricate golden throne, looking more royal, more powerful, than she had ever seen him, as if he belonged exactly there, sitting on that throne. Even his robes were different to the elegant ones she was accustomed to see him in daily. They were similar, formal robes, except that there was a rich velvet mantle companying them, a couple of more rigs on his fingers. His silken silvery hair was left unbraided, the Crown of silver leaves sitting so regally upon his head that it almost looked as if it was a part of him. Still, even through the many layers of his robes, it was impossible to miss the heavy white bandages that covered his left hand disappeared up his sleeve, a couple of more peeking out of the neckline of his robes, also to his left.
Another, smaller throne sat next to the King, to his right, where the Queen elegantly sat. and suddenly, her mother, the lady she had seen a few times over the past few days, was a Queen in all of her glory. Her skin was a still a little too pale, her cheeks hollow, and her body seeming wearier than it should be for a healthy elf, but her eyes, her dress, her stance, were those of a Queen. Her dress was as emerald as her irises, the waistline and shoulders incrusted in so many diamonds that it made her think of stars on night lit sky. and the Crown, the Crown she had never seen, the Crown she had not even know existed, rested on her head as though she had never taken it off, in smaller silver leaves that matched her father's.
Tadion was already there too, sitting tall on an elegant chair (but no throne) to the King's left, his face unreadably, clear blue eyes strong: another Prince. His robes were of bright scarlet, embroidered in golden threat in the pattern of leaves, but contrary to the King he wore no mantle. A circlet, a little larger than Legolas rested over his head, his golden hair also left unbraided, although perfectly combed. She glanced away from him quickly, not really wanting to meet his eyes. She did not know whether or not he would still be furious with her, blaming her for ever getting inside the connection. But whether he was still angry or not, she did not to want to face him right now, did not want to deal with that. And sitting on a similar chair to the Queen's right sat Lossenel in a pale silver dress that combined with her stunning platinum hair and ivory skin made appear as though she was made of snow.
She followed Legolas up the platform, trying to ignore the looks that followed her, barely aware of more elves continuing to arrive to the place that was so obviously the Throne Room. Lossenel's eyes met hers, stunning irises of ice-green blue, indicating her in complete silence to take the seat to her right. She did not hesitate, throwing her sister a quick glance of thanks before joining her, watching Legolas move in the opposite direction, to take the empty seat by Tadion's left.
Her eyes swept around the room once more, unable to take it all in at the same time. Before them, just in front of the wide steps that led to the raised platform twelve chairs sat arranged in a lose semicircle, six to each side of the Royals. The majority of them were occupied by then, all with important looking Lords dressed in robes so fine that they almost matched, but not quite, her brothers' ones. They must be the members of the Council, she guessed. Everyone else was standing on the sides of the main aisle. She noticed too the large number of guards present in the room, two nearly every ten steps.
A couple of minutes passed, although she could not count how many, the soft murmur of chatter in the room never ceasing, echoing over the massive outer walls, lined with tall stone statues of elves so perfectly carved that seemed almost real. And then, all the twelve chairs before her eyes were taken, and silence fell abruptly over the massive hall as the King elegantly raised his right hand. There had never been a silence so deafening, so immediate.
She watched, sitting as straight and still as she could, imitating Lossenel, feeling as every single eye focused on her father's figure. But her father did not speak yet, merely waving his right hand commandingly through the air. The massive pair of doors opened once more, the sound echoing like a loud drum in the silence.
Five elves walked inside the Throne Room, all eyes present fixing on them, unblinking. But she only had eyes for one. He walked patiently, not even struggling along as two guards held him by each arm, his hands tied behind his back. The elf's red brown hair fell messily down his back, as it had not been brushed since that night, in the forest…but then again it probably had not. His face was covered in a light layer of dirt and dust, and he was still wearing that horrid black cloak. But nonetheless, he walked up to his judgement with a courage and calmness that was almost admirable. Two more guards walked dutifully behind, their presence seeming more out of precaution than really necessary. Low mutters followed his figure, eyes either looking away or narrowing in disgust.
The five figures reached the end of the long aisle, stopping just in front of the steps that led to the throne.
"State your name." The King's voice carried over the hall so powerfully that for a moment she almost wondered if even the columns would bow at him.
"Arvellon Taerberion." The elf's voice was not as loud as the King's, and though stained with unsuppressed fear, it did not tremble. The guards holding his arms had taken a step to the side, leaving him standing alone in the center of the room, under every watching eye.
"Arvellon Tarberion, you are standing here accused of treason by acting against the Crown, conspiring with others in doing so, and participating the capture, imprisonment, and torture of my son Crown Prince Arahaelon Thranduilion of the Greenwood." The King spoke the last couple of words with such venom that the elf in question flinched with only hearing them. Another round of silent mutters followed through the crowd of spectating elves. "Do you claim to be innocent of such accusations?"
"No, Your Majesty." The elf's voice was once again surprisingly steady as he spoke, eyes though his eyes betrayed his fear. Another round of louder murmur ran through the room, and she could see a couple of the Council members exchanging words in silence.
"As my judgement in this case will be unjustly biased, I will first hear the Council's decision before I decide your sentence. Choose your words carefully." The King added with another gesture from the hand. "Lord Halcanar, you may proceed."
A tall dark-haired elf with sharp brown eyes sitting on one of the six chairs to the right of the throne rose to his feet, his long dark violet robes pooling elegantly around him.
"Who acted with you?" The lord questioned, the King leaning elegantly back on his throne and watching the scene with attentive icy eyes. The red-haired elf swallowed once before answering.
"I know not, My Lord. I never saw their faces. And they never saw mine."
"Were you receiving orders?" The lord continued to question.
"Yes, My Lord." The elf answered, ignoring the murmurs that followed every answer he gave.
"From whom?"
"I do not know, My Lord."
"How is that possible?"
"Please, My Lord." The elf pleaded, frightened eyes looking up at the King, whose face remained so cold and expressionless that once again the elf nearly flinched. "I will be murdered if I tell you."
"And you will die quicker if you do not answer." The King replied, his voice so cold, so full of venom that she had to suppress a shudder.
"The orders never came directly from whoever gave them." The elf answered after a few seconds, resigned, and yet telling the truth..or at least it appeared like the truth. "Precautions were always taken to ensure that the orders were passed along at least three elves before reaching their intended destination."
"So you did receive orders to capture the Crown Prince?" The lord continued, phrasing it as a question but it sounded more like a statement.
"No, My Lord." The elf shook his head quickly, as though hoping that those words could save him, or at least spare his life.
"But you participated." The elegant lord stated, and the elf seemed to struggle with his words.
"Yes….but No, I…."
"Did you or did you not participate in the capture, imprisonment and torture of the Crown Prince."
"I….." The elf hesitated, his frightened eyes looking at the King once more before gathering his words.
"I was instructed to wait by the caves, along with two others. Our orders were to wait for three more who would bring along and two elves we were to take with us." The elf started narrating, and almost immediately a deafening silence covered the room, every ear listening attentively. "We were not told who they were. Our three companions showed up, as expected, but only with one elf, the Crown Prince. I did not know it was him who we were intended to capture until I saw the others bringing him."
"And what did you do?" The King's voice hissed, another tremble going through the red haired elf, whose eyes flew once again to the figure sitting powerfully on the throne. A cold shiver ran down her spine, her inside clenching painfully, heart skipping a beat. Two elves, the red-haired elf had said. They were supposed to capture two. And the second one, was her. They had had her, and had let her go only because of Arahaelon's impressively quick thinking, throwing dirt into her eyes, the color of which would have given her away.
"My Lord?" The elf asked, looking so small and insignificant in front of the twelve Council members and the King himself.
"What did you do to my son?" The King's voice nearly trembled in ager, ice blue eyes burning through the elf like blue fire. "State every single thing that was done to him from the moment he was captured. You will be judged for every single one of them."
If the elf had looked scared before, it was nothing compared to the sheer terror that crossed his eyes at that moment. His looked around himself frantically, seeming to be thinking of a way to evade the question, to talk his way out of it, but saying nothing yet.
"I know what my son's injuries are." The King proceeded, his eyes burning with ire, voice filled with poison. "And so do the healers, so do not attempt to lie about them. You will state in detail how every single one of those was sustained."
Out of the corner of her eyes she saw Tadion's eyes drop to the floor, his jaw clenched, as if he was restraining himself from jumping over the elf and slitting his throat right there and then.
"My companions showed up with the Crown Prince." The elf started to narrate once more, and for the first time his voice trembled, falling so low that she doubted the elves in the back could even hear it any longer. "His Highness's eyes were blindfolded and his hands tied behind his back. I could tell the elf that had been instructed to wait with me was surprised too, but nevertheless we carried our orders. We took him here, to the Palace, and then we were ourselves blindfolded as another one led us to where we were to keep him. My task was to watch the door. And I did while my two companions attempted to tie him to some hooks on the wall. His Highness struggled and he was hit in the head, back and ribs, three of them were broken then. The struggling stopped once one of my companions pressed a knife to his throat."
The elf narrated the events with a hollow voice, reciting them like one recites a list, as if he would have given anything not to say what he was saying.
"Then the knife was given to me, and I took over. One of my companions asked him where the Princess Almarëa was, and when His Highness did not reply, he was kicked again in the ribs, breaking I believe two more. He was asked again, but he remained silent so he was kicked once more and then dragged to a small cell on an adjacent door, where he would not be able to sit with his legs stretched, and I was once again tasked with guarding the door. And I did for an entire night before he was dragged back out the following day once my companions returned. His Highness was asked something else this time, in secret, I could not hear what it was, but he still did not reply, so I was given the knife again. I was instructed to first dip the blade in a bowl of diluted spider venom that was handed to me so that the pained would be doubled but it would not be poisonous and I cut away skin from his right shoulder. He was asked again things in secret, too low for any of my other companions or me to hear, and every time he refused to speak I was to drag the knife through his shoulder once more. Then, we did the same thing on his back, wher-
"That is enough." The King interrupted him with a raised hand that seemed to tremble out of rage or pain at what he was hearing she could not tell. But she herself could not continue to listen to any more of it. "I have heard enough for today. Take him away from my sight. We will continue the trial another day."
The guards wasted no time in taking hold of the elf once more, the later not even bothering to struggle against their grip, as if he did not even want to, and he was dragged away through the long aisle followed by every single pair of eyes that looked at him in disgust. To her left, Lossenel appeared positively petrified, her face expressionless, as if sometime through the middle of the elf's narration she had forced herself to lose focus, to shut herself out so strongly that she could no longer hear the words. Tadion's hands were trembling by his sides, and it was hard to tell whether he or the King looked the angriest.
The guards had barely disappeared out the door before the King was already rising to his feet, not even waiting for anyone else to start vacating the room. The twelve Council members immediately rose to their feet the second the King stood, as it was dictated by formalities, but her father did not seem to have noticed, hurrying through the main aisle in a rushed pace. The Queen and her siblings followed behind, and she imitated them, trying yet failing to ignore the eyes that followed every single one of their moves. She could tell the Throne Room would explode in murmurs and gossips the second they left the room, but could not get herself to care less. She had never been to a trial before, but she did not have to have attend any previous one to be able to tell that the King never cut one short, not based on the looks that the spectating elves were sharing.
She barely registered when they left the Throne Room, or when they started to make their silent way through the long corridors, escorted by nearly ten guards. Nobody said a words. They did not even exchange looks. It was a though what they had just heard was still poisoning their minds. And they had not heard it all.
She was only abruptly pulled out of her thoughts by an elf suddenly running in their direction, coming down a familiar ample marble staircase, the one that led to the Private Wing of the Palace. The elf's honey colored haired flew out of his braids in messy strands, and he was dressed in the healer's garments.
"Your Majesty!" The elf stopped right in front of them, struggling to get out words while he panted for breath, as though he had been running as fast as he possibly could through the halls. "Lord Elrond sent me. The Crown Prince is waking up."
Hi there! Sorry for the long wait! But finally here is the next chapter! I'm going to try one thing and commit myself to continuing this story sooner by trying to update every Sunday regularly. It will take a lot of world and I don't know how I will manage but I will try to get myself to do it!
Anyway, again thank you so much to all of you who reviewed the last chapter! Thank you thank you thank you for all your words! GondorianElf, beautifulstarofthesea, Amsim, kittykat, glassary, Mary Lg13, helenaxo, Flower-Uchiha, Guest, thrndlwood, Another Sindar, artvandelay5001, Guest, Hyuuga Senpai, and Saum the Smol Teddy!
Love,
Elena