Lord Doronor.
She felt what little hope had been building inside of her suddenly burst into a million pieces, disappearing into nothingness. So thy were back to the beginning, with not a lead to follow. It was frustrating, enraging, her mind reeling with despair as she followed Elladan through the Palace's corridors.
She had not even noticed when they left the Architect's tower, when the had descended that seemingly endless spiraling staircase, when the air had become light and fresh once more, the dusty dry and cloying smell of the paper-filled tower long ago left behind. And what had they gained? Where would they continue now? They were empty handed. AS empty handed as they had been the moment they had walked inside the Architect's study. No. It felt worse. At least on their way up she had felt a glint of hope, had felt confusion, desire to know, and yet now….now she felt helpless, lost.
Lord Doronor was dead. Whatever he had known, whatever he could have told her, could have let them know, it was too late. Would he have told anyone what he knew? Would he have revealed any piece of information he possessed of that enormous secret construction that took place at the Palace so many years ago?
A heavy silence followed their footsteps, echoing deafly in the thick stone walls that watched their path. What is it that hinds behind you? What are you concealing underneath those ornate carvings and beautiful ornaments? Never before had the Palace felt so alive, never before had she felt more watched. These walls have ears; these walls have eyes of their own.
Every once in a while a soft breeze would tickle her dress, toying with her loose hair as if danced through the open balconies and archways that lined the corridors. Outside, the Moon was already low in the blackened sky, washing with its faint silvery light the world around them. Dawn would brake soon. Elladan had not said a thing, had not spoken a word since leaving the Architect's towers, as though he too could feel that the Palace around them would be listening to them intently, that the eyes of the heavenly carved statues they passed along the way could follow their figures. He would not speak until they had reached the safety of the Royal Wing, of that she was sure.
And they were nearly there. She could not tell how long it took, but before she had anticipated they were already back in that long familiar corridor lined with five beautiful doors. Perhaps it was the guards that made her realize where she was, so many of them flanking each door, bowing respectfully to them as they passed. Her heart clenched at the familiar faces of healers still continuing to come in and out of the Crown Prince's bedchambers, and she shook her head, focusing instead of reaching that beautiful tall door that she knew was hers.
Elladan followed her inside, taking his time to carefully close the door behind them, and yet just when she had expected him to finally speak, to finally voice his thoughts, we walked past her, heading straight into the balcony. She watched his back, feeling a pang of pain at his silence, at the way in which he merely stood there, his back to her, slender fingers gripping tightly at the delicate railing. And even then he looked heavenly, otherworldly. His long ebony hair fell in a dark waterfall down his back, nearly to his waist, the silver moonlight making his skin look paler, almost glowing.
She let out a sigh, shaking her muddled thoughts from her head. So he was still angry with her. She could feel it through their bond. No. Perhaps anger was to the precise word to describe it. He was angry, and he was worried, worried and scared. Deciding to allow him a few seconds to his own, she made her way instead to the large wardrobe that still felt alien to her, pulling the ornate wooded doors open and letting her emerald eyes dance patiently over the many dresses that hung neatly inside. She could still bot believe they were hers, still could not get used to seeing such fine fabrics and laces and silks just there for her to take.
She pulled out the first dress she saw, barely noticing that it was a pale silver color with wine red sleeves that dragged nearly to the floor and an equally wine red sash at the waist to match them. Discarding her wrinkled and worn dress for the day, she carelessly threw the new one on, relieved that it somehow made her feel as though she was finally leaving that tower and the long dreadful day behind. She should also take a bath, but decided that that could wait a little more.
The rich silver fabric trailed softly over the marble floor behind her as she made her way to the balcony. Elladan's eyes turned in her direction, silent silver orbs taking in her figure for a long moment before turning to gaze once again at the forest below. And she simply stood there, by his side, her own fingers gently curling over the cold silver railing, hands brushing his.
"That was madness, Rina." He finally spoke, turning to face her. She could taste the anger in his voice, the fear in his words, and yet his face was gentle, eyes soft. "Some things are better left alone."
"Would you have rather not know?" She countered, even though she too kept her voice soft.
"Perhaps." Was all he said, and she could still feel thoughts of what they had just learned still plaguing his mind.
"I am tired of not knowing." She sighed, and he did not say anything in return. A long moment of silence stretched between the two.
Outside the wind played with the leaves of the trees, making those few that had not been burned to ashes rustle and sing. Far in the horizon she could see the faint first glint of pink starting to tint the sky. A new day. And what would it bring? New questions? New worries? New dangers? And what of that ring that Arahaelon had found? Where was it now? Had her father hidden it as he said he would? If so, where?
"I need to see Elrohir." Elladan broke the silence, is words cutting through her chest as she almost heard them say 'I need to be alone' instead. And yet she merely nodded, swallowing once as she watched his hands gently letting go of the railing.
He turned to her, letting one of his hands rest gently over her left cheek before pressing his lips lightly to her. For a second, liquid silver eyes captured hers, and she could see it all, worry, fear, confusions and anger, all swirling deep inside those endless irises that did not seem to want to let her go. And then he was gone, and she was left only with the silent click of the door closing behind his tall figure.
She made her way to the bed, unable to decide on what to do next. Grabbing the heavy tome forgotten there she focused on finding it a place on the many bookshelves that lined the room. A humorless chuckle left her lips as she deposited the large book containing the drawings of the Palace in the corner of one of the highest shelves. How ironic. Someone had taken the care of filling her bedchambers with books upon her arrival, and still nobody had yet taught her to read any of them.
A knock on the door brought her wondering thoughts back to the present, and she promptly finished pushing the heavy book into the shelf, making sure that it did blended perfectly with the rest of the tomes before stepping back towards the bed.
"Enter" She called out, lowering herself upon the plush mattress.
"Rëa?"
She lifted her gaze to meet Tadion's as he slowly slipped inside the room. She had not expected him, had not really expected anyone to come looking for her, much less at this hour, when the sun had not even risen yet in the horizon. And yet, the moment her eyes met his figure her heart sank painfully inside her chest. Her brother looked dreadful. There dark shadows underneath his clear eyes, which had usually been full of mirth, and there were lines of exhaustion all over his face, his stance slumped, drained.
"You look terrible." She commented, patting the spot next to her on the bed for him to take, eyes following his figure with concern as he did just that. The mattress sunk lightly under his weight, his long golden hair falling over her shoulders and brushing her right one.
"Have you slept at all?" She questioned him, taking her time to brush a strand of his golden hair behind his pointed ear. She already knew the answer to her question, could see it in the bags underneath his eyes, but still she asked anyway. Tadion offered her a gentle smile in return, but it did nothing to lighten her worry.
"No." He answered honestly, his left hand lifting to squeeze her right shoulder comfortingly.
"You should." She didn't know what prompted her to do so, but she leaned her head over his shoulder, his arm softly wrapping over her shoulder in return. And it felt so comfortable, so soothing to simply enjoy her brother's company for a little while.
"I will." He replied, letting out a small chuckle that floated warmly in the air.
"Rëa?" He started, her head lifting in order to meet his eyes watching her carefully. "I know it is early and you probably are exhausted too, but could you sit with Ar for a few hours?"
The unexpected request made something ache deeply inside her chest. For a second a wave of guilt seemed to consume her, suddenly weighing heavily over her shoulders. Tadion had not slept for he had been sitting all night with Ar, and perhaps even before that. Valar, she was sure every single one of her siblings had been there at some point, keeping the Crown Prince company. And yet she had not. She had only been there when he had woken up for the first time, along with the rest of her family.
"Of course." She did not hesitate to answer, guilt still clenching at her heart like cold claws.
"Thank you." He seemed to deflate a little as he spoke, as if at least momentarily relieved. "I know you must be tired as well, but Lossie has been sitting with Ar for the past two hours, and although she means to help she gets too worried and too anxious whenever Ar is injured so she is not really much help. If only she just fuzzes over him or goes into panic. She tries, but I know she will not handle being there for much longer, and I.."
"And you need to rest." She finished for him, watching him as he slowly nodded his head, not contradicting her. It was the truth, they both knew it. There was no point in him denying his exhaustion.
"How is he?" She managed to ask, even though part of her wanted to not know, somehow feeling that whatever answer she got would not be good news. Not if Tadion was here asking her to sit by the Crown Prince's bedside. "Is he awake?"
"He has been awake all night." Tadion sighed, his right hand rubbing tiredly at his eyes as he stifled a yawn. Still she did not miss the worry in his voice. "He is still refusing the sleeping teas, preferring to suffer through the painkillers side effects than having to go to sleep again."
Her older brother trailed off, his elbows resting on his knees and dropping his head in his hands. She closed her eyes, wanting nothing more than to drag him over the bed and under the ivory bed covers right there and force him to finally sleep, to finally rest.
"He is exhausted Rëa." Tadion shook his head, his eyes not lifting up to meet hers. "He really is exhausted. I cannot sit there and watch him suffer any longer. He needs to sleep."
"Have the healers at least given him something more for the pain?" She felt as though a dagger had been incrusted inside her chest at what she was hearing.
"No." Her brother replied hollowly. "They cannot yet. The first dose was supposed to knock him out for at least a day. He still has hours to go before they can safely give him anything else. He has been asking for painkillers, Rëa, asking for them."
Shivers travelled down her spine. She did not wish to hear any more, she did not think she could handle it. She knew the Crown Prince enough to know that he rarely asked for anything when injured, never wanting to show his pain.
Sighing she pushed herself to her feet, gently pushing Tadion by the shoulders when he attempted to rise behind her. She did not let him, her mind too worried at his tired face, his slumped posture. Softly he pushed him back to lie on the bed, ignoring as he tried to protest, and yet she knew she had won the second his head touched the pillows behind. In a single second, her older brother had succumbed to sleep, too tired to even move.
She took a deep breath, steadying herself, forcing herself to stand taller, to feel stronger. She needed to be, reminded herself as she walked outside the door and into the crowded corridor outside, she needed to be strong and composed. From what she heard from Tadion chances were that the Crown Prince would not be. So it needed to be her. She needed to be comforting presence this time, not Arahaelon trying to comfort her, as was usually the case.
So here she was once again, facing the tall ornate door that she knew led to the Crown Prince's bedchamber. Then why was it so hard to go inside this time? She could see the guards flanking the door looking at her carefully, their golden armor shimmering at the first rays on sunlight that filtered through the balcony at the hallway. They would not impede her from going in, in fact they were expecting her to in, observing he patiently, and she could almost feel them questioning her hesitation.
She needed to be strong. Not giving it another though she turned the golden doorknob, stepping inside the room she now knew all too well. It took her a couple of seconds to adjust to the darkness inside, the curtains still drawn as if to prevent the rising sun from disturbing sleep. But she knew her eldest brother would not be sleeping.
The first thing she noticed were the healers, at least four or five of them, all dressed in their customary pristine white robes, moving soundlessly back and forth across the room. They too did not seem to get a second's rest. A weak fire flicker dimly on the grand marble fireplace, almost seeming to be dying, the burning logs glowing in vibrant reds as they slowly turned into ashes.
The sound of retching reached her ears, her eyes falling closed and her face contorting in sympathy as she suddenly heard many footsteps crossing the room in a rushed pace, followed by a tangle of urgent murmurs in that beautiful tongue she did not know understand.
She opened her eyes only moments later, once the majority of the commotion seemed to stop, her eyes drifting towards the bed to find three healers helping a now panting Crown Prince lie back onto the feathered pillows. Lossenel was there too, standing with her back to her, the Princess' long platinum hair contained in a single plait down her back, a couple of strands already starting to fall from it messily, no doubt she had been fidgeting with it for a while. A long silken night-robe of a pale gold color waltzed around her sister's shape as she moved, still in her night-clothes, not seeming to have bothered to even looked presentable.
She reached the bed in complete silence, none of the figures seeming to have even noticed her presence, but she guessed they more pressing matters occupying their thoughts. And yet, the way in which the healer's eyes kept darting frantically toward her eldest brother, others already rushing back to collect the Valar knew what it was they had covering nearly every table in the room did nothing to calm her nerves. They were worried. It was clear in their faces, in their lack of smiles, in the lines that filled their brows.
She laid a hand gently over her sister's pale and bony shoulder, green-blue eyes suddenly turning in her direction, for the first time noticing her.
"Go to sleep, Lossie. I can take over." She offered the snowy Princess a gentle smile, careful to keep her voice low, barely more than a whisper as to not disturb the peaceful silence that now coated the room.
Her sister turned in her direction, looking tired, somewhat relieved to be allowed to leave these chambers at least for a while, even though she could tell that part of Lossenel did not really want to leave. The Princess ran her hand through her hair almost absent-mindedly, only managing to pull out more strands from her already falling plait.
"He has been sick all night, Rëa." Her sister sighed, her voice so low that she had to lean in to be able to hear her. "I no longer know what to do."
"Sleep." She repeated, giving her sister's shoulder a little squeeze, just as Tadion had done to her only minutes ago in her own chambers. But her sister seemed to understand what she meant, not complaining even once, only offering her a small smile in return before making her slow way towards the door, nearly dragging her feet.
So here she was, alone in the now seemingly giant bedchamber, surrounded by healers who could have as well been statues for all the company they provided. Slowly, she forced her legs to get closer to the bed, for a few seconds trying to figure out what to do before her eyes caught sight of a cushioned high-backed chair that had been placed by the bed. Most probably Loseenel had been sitting there.
She lowered herself into the cushions, feeling the plush fabric give slightly under her weight, hugging her figure. Tadion had not been wrong. And Tadion had not been exaggerating. Her heart sank painfully inside her chest, her stomach twisting in tight knots. Arahaelon did not only look tired, he looked beyond exhausted, she was sure there were no words to describe it. His handsome face, which was always flawless and serene was lined with pain, a deep crease seemed to have taken permanent residence on his brow. Beads of sweat shimmered on his forehead, but he did not seem aware of it, dark shadows peeking underneath his tightly closed eyes. The color of his king frightened her the most, it was too pale, lifeless, even his lisp had taken a blueish tint to them. Even underneath the silken sheets and warm bedcovers his body was shaking form head to toe, although whether from cold, pain or exhaustion she could not tell. Even his breathing seemed labored, coming in shallow pants, as if every breath sent a sharp pain through his broken and mangled ribs.
She must not have been as quiet as she thought she was when taking her seat, for only a second after lowering herself the Crown Prince's emerald eyes fluttered open with difficulty, dazedly gazing in her direction.
"Are you taking turns?" He croaked, the words dying on his lips before he even finished speaking them. He sounded slightly irritated, but she did not blame him. She would have been beyond irritated had she been in unrelenting pain for hours and hours and no sleep.
"Something like that." She chuckled lightly, watching as the corner of his mouth faintly curved into a smile that died before it was even born, turning into a wince instead as his face contorted in pain. He grunted, fingers gripping tightly at the sheets. For a moment she thought he would break the fabric from how tightly he twisted it, but her eyes noticed a couple of tiny holes already in it, making shudders travel down her spine. He had already torn through the sheets.
The healers were by his side in an instant, seeming to react to any sound of distress that came from their Crown Prince, nearly shoving her out of the way, closing in around the bed.
"I want something for the pain." Shivers raveled down her spine as she heard her eldest brother grunting out to the healers.
"Not yet, my Lord." One of the healers, a blond one she had seen there before, replied in a low soothing voice, and she could see in the elf's face that he wished he could have acquiesced to his Prince's request.
"How much longer?" Arahaelon's eyes had once again fallen closed as he spoke, as if it took tremendous effort to simply open them.
"Four hours." The healer added with a little too much hope, making it sound as though it was such a short time, but the words nearly made her wince. Four hours to go before any painkillers. Four more hours of this torture for him to endure.
Still her eldest brother only nodded in reply, not giving any other word of complaint.
"Dismissed." He finally said, the words coming out barely in a whisper. "All of you."
She could see some of the healers wanted to complain, to argue against the order which many of them no doubt saw as insensate judging the state their Prince was in, and yet they obeyed, silently walking out of the room, even though she knew they would remain by the door, ready to burst it should their presence be required. Still part of her was glad the healers were gone. They could do nothing else to help, at least not for the moment, and the way in which they hovered and fuzzed over Arahaelon only made her more annoyed than anything, seeming to only be exhausting him more.
Silence engulfed the ample bedchamber, only broken sporadically by the Crown Prince's shaky and shallow breathing, or the occasional crackling of the dying fire.
"How are you?" He broke the silence, dazed eyes lifting up to meet hers.
"I should be the one asking you that." She added with a smile, her hand trailing softly over an empty spot on the covers, feeling the dark blue silk kissing her skin. "Is there anything I can do?"
"Worry not." He croaked, lisp curving up in a faint smile, his face trying but failing miserably to conceal just how pain he was in. And she wanted to strangle him for that. How did he expect her not to worry? Could he not take a look at himself?
Still she became silent once more, watching him patiently as his eyes fell closed almost on their own, not wanting to disturb him, not wanting to prevent him from resting peacefully. His long silvery hair fanned messily over the white pillows, tanging in many places with the intricate embroidery of his silver night tunic, which she noticed had been left open at the front. No doubt it was the healers' doing, in order to easily access the many bandages that still covered his body to change them.
The Crown Prince was eerily still, she did not miss that either. He did not move even an inch from where he was lying. He would not last long awake, no matter how much he tried. He was too tired, in too much pain. He would either succumb to sleep sooner or later or he would pass out from sheer exhaustion, whichever came first.
"What have you been doing these past days?" The words came out in a mumbled whisper, eyelids fighting to remain open.
The unexpected question surprised her, simply because it was so casual. But she understood immediately what it was he intended. He wanted to talk, or rather wanted her to talk. The topic did not seem to matter to him, as long as the conversation served as a form of distraction. Part of her wanted to argue that needed to rest, and yet she did not have the heart to fight him at the moment.
"Nothing really." What a terrible answer. What a way to end a conversation before it started, so she made her brain work harder to produce a better answer. "I have been to the gardens."
Or what is left of the gardens, she should have said. Nonetheless her words seemed to have been enough, tired eyes turning to look at her in partial amusement.
"Do you know who I saw in the gardens?" She continued, keeping her voice casual and relaxed, as if there were merely sitting over tea, enjoying a beautiful morning. For a second he looked puzzled, shaking his head lightly, even though he slight movement made him wince.
"Who." He was not going to try to guess, not now at least, barely seeming to have the energy to stay awake. Speaking seemed to tax him beyond his limits, leaving him out of breath with every word, so she took it upon herself to do most of the talking, letting him listed instead.
"Lady Indilene." She finished with a teasing smile, watching his impenetrable emerald eyes open fully now, all his attention on her, on her words, on what she would say next. For a second he looked suspicious, listening attentively to what she would say next, and she almost laughed, remembering how he did not seem to like being teased about the lady.
Nonetheless, she had known he would want to know that, to at least hear about her, that she was all right. He opened his mouth to speak but she interrupted him before he could spend more of his energy.
"She is fine. She is perfectly fine." Not perfectly in truth, but Arahaelon did not need to know that right now, the last thing he needed was to learn that Indilene's hand had been hurt in the fight. It was a trivial wound, nothing life-threatening. There was no point in worrying him at the moment.
"It was an odd garden." She continued, softly rising from the comfortable chair and rounding the large bed towards the balcony, aware of his eyes following her every move. Her fingers curled on the rich fabric of the dark blue curtains obscuring the view, opening enough to peek through them at the enchanting view below. The gardens, all stretching almost infinitely from up here. "I can see it from here. The one with a pond in it."
"Is she still there?" He managed to say, her gaze turning to his pale figure, a ghost of a smile curving on his lips.
No, she is not. "Yes, but I can see very little, it all looks tiny from up here." She lied. When had she become so good at lying? Still, whether or not he noticed she was not telling the truth he did not show it.
Her words had the desire effect, and in a single second she agreed that her lie had been justifiable. From the bed the Crown Prince let out a single chuckle, half wincing in the process, even though this time the unrelenting pain did not seem to be the main thing occupying his mind.
"Ar?" She turned to face him, crossing the couple of steps towards the bedside, all the previous teasing and sheepish tone gone from her voice, studying him carefully. He looked up to her, waiting patiently for her to continue.
"What is it between you and Indilene?" She could not exactly tell why the question, or why now, but suddenly feeling genuinely curious about it, about this lady that she had not even known existed until some weeks ago and had apparently already captured the entirety of her eldest brother's attention.
For a long second he eyed her carefully, silently, even though his gaze remained gentle, and even though she knew she was crossing one of his carefully established barriers with the question, breaching one portion of his privacy that he so protected, he did not once push her away.
"I do not ask you about that son of Elrond, and you do not ask me about Lady Indilene." He replied, only managing for her to laugh at that. That son of Elrond. As if the Crown Prince did not know exactly that his name was Elladan.
"Is it Lady Indilene now?" She giggled, her eyebrows rising high on her forehead. As if he could manage to fool her with that. "Do you really expect me to believe you call her that, with title and all? And she calls you what then? Your Highness? My Lord?"
His eyes grew wide at her teasing words, for a second seeming almost scandalized, and it was too funny for her not to let out another round of laughter. Perhaps she should have guessed that nobody would shamelessly ask him such personal questions, unless of course it was Tadion or Legolas.
"Almarëa!" He chastised her, even though he too was unable to contain a light chuckle, shaking his head disapprovingly.
"Sorry." She apologized, even though her smile was still wide on her face.
"Go to the desk." He attempted to lift a hand to gesture towards where the massive and elegant piece of furniture was, but he barely managed to move his shaking fingers.
"First drawer to the left." He indicated, just as she crossed the room and pulled open that very same drawer.
"What is it I am looking for?" She narrowed her eyes, gazing impatiently at the thousands of papers neatly piled up inside said drawer.
"A box, under the parchments." He coughed, groaning as he did so, his breath catching in a pained hiss. She was careful not to ruin anything, suddenly feeling that whatever these pieces of parchment contained they must be valuable for him to have them so neatly stored.
It took her a while of digging, but finally after a few minutes her fingers where securely taking hold of a small wooden box, intricate patterns of leaves and flowers beautifully carved in it.
"This?" Her steps echoed in the grand room as the returned towards the bed, Arahaelon nodding at her only once. She extended her hand, offering him the object he had asked for but he shook his head, not taking it.
"Open it." He commanded, swallowing thickly.
The latch of the small box was harder than she had expected, and it took a little bit of fidgeting on her part to finally pull the lid open, eyes peeking into the velvet inside. She gasped, nearly dropping the box, wide eyes flying to meet the Crown Prince's gorgeous smile.
"Are you…?" The words got tangled inside her mouth, mirth suddenly overcoming her entire body. "When?"
"Not yet. There are a few protocols I need to follow first." Came her eldest brother's reply, and the smile on his face, so wide, so warm, could have moved any heart, lightening up and gleaming inside the emerald depths of his eyes. "And I have not yet spoken to her uncle."
She did not know what to say, ow to react, her smile saying more than words could, eyes glued to the delicate gorgeous ring that sat carefully inside the box's interior. It was stunning, truly and undeniably stunning. The detailing and work on it had no equal, and she was sure that nobody but the most skilled and expensive jeweler in the entire realm had worked on it. The delicate silver band seemed to be composed of two intertwining strings, so fragile-looking that she though it could brake if touched. It was no silver, even though it looked that way. She knew enough to notice that for a such a ring Arahaelon would have not chosen anything less than gold. White gold it was then.
White gems that seemed to glimmer and reflect in a thousand colors every ray of light that touched them fell perfectly arranged of a circle at the top, the shapes cut like tiny teardrops. No, not teardrops. Petals. Petals indeed. So many of them, at least three layers, getting smaller and smaller towards the middle. It was a water lily.
"Do you like it?" His voice dragged her out form her thoughts, her eyes finally departing from the precious jewel. He was eyeing her carefully, his face unreadable, for the first time seeming genuinely worried about what her answer would be.
"'I love it." She replied honestly, her heart skipping in joy at the smile that did not seem able to leave his face. She had never seen him so happy.
"I am sure Lady Indilene will love it too." She stressed the title, smirking as he narrowed his eyes at her. "Who else knows?"
"Nobody." Her eldest brother threw her a pointed look, and she understood that he meant she should remain silent about it.
"Worry not. I have not seen a thing." She took her index to her mouth in a gesture of silence, and he chuckled once, eyes falling closed heavily once more.
She used the few seconds of silence to return the tiny box back to its hiding place, taking a long look at his figure. And what joy and elation had filled her heart only seconds ago seemed to vanish. Arahaelon was not well. There was no hiding it, there was no masking it. He lay eerily still once more, breathing shallowly, brow creased with pain. Her thoughts wandered back to the lady with ashen hair in the pond, to the right safely concealed in the desk's drawer, and her heart suddenly constricted in fear that perhaps said ring would never get a chance to reach its intended owner. Not unless the Crown Prince started to get better, to get stronger. Not unless his wounds started to heal. And they were not healing.
And she wanted to kill that elf with the flaming red hair, she wanted to raise her hands and curl them around his throat, to hurt him just as much as he and his companions had hurt Arahaelon.
"Rëa?" She had to read his lips in order to understand him, his eyes not even opening as he spoke. He shifted a little groaning as the movement seemed to pull at his many wounds. "Could you…"
He trailed off, unable to finish his sentence, his left hand attempting to hold up a neatly folded piece of white linen in her direction, gesturing to a large steaming bowl that rested over the round table at the corner of the room. She understood what he meant immediately, carefully picking the offered linen, noticing how it felt cold and dry to the touch, albeit only slightly humid. He had been carefully holding it to the side of his chest since she had walked inside the room, where she knew the worst of his injuries laid.
"Would you not rather I call the healers?" She suggested. He was in a lot of pain, there was no denying it, and judging by the rhythmic and controlled pattern his shallow breathing had acquired the nausea must have been making an appearance again. But he shook his head, and she decided against pressing the matter.
Instead she dipped the linen in the indicated bowl, immediately picking up the gentle smell of athelas infused in the warm water, taking the time to twist the excess of it before returning towards the bed. It would do little for the pain, but at least the now once again warm cloth freshly dipped in athelas water would have a soothing effect.
"Why do you not try to sleep?" She ventured, his hands gently replacing the offered linen to the side of his chest.
"No." He said flatly, not leaving space for argument, and she dropped the subject.
"I have not yet had the chance to thank you." Deep forest green eyes swallowed her own, so gentle, so welcoming and at the same time always a step beyond her reach. Her pale fingers toyed with the silver fabric of her dress, pulling uncomfortably at the tiny pearls sewn into the embroidery.
She knew she could not avoid the topic for ever. She had so many questions, so many things she could not yet understand about that night in the forest, and yet she did not even know where to start. Still there was that part of her that scared of remembering it, that part inside her that even now with the mere thought of that night hungered for more of that addiction power, wanted in coursing through her veins, spreading through her limbs.
"Why did you follow me?" All trace of playfulness was gone from her voice, her right hand pulling back a loose strand form her golden hair behind her ear.
Arahaelon did not answer, remaining completely still underneath the covers.
"You should not have followed me" She shook her head, fighting to push away the burning memory of that fear, that worry she had felt for days before he woke up, when the only thing she could think about was the possibility that she had finally accidentally killed her brother.
"Perhaps Tadion was right, perhaps I should not have gone in…"
"You would have joined the connection no matter what." He cut her off, his face unreadable yet looking at her patiently, warmly.
"But you did not need to risk your lif-"
"I knew what I was doing." The Crown Prince did not let her finish, not seeming to want to hear apologies on the matter. "I knew about the risks and the possible outcomes of that night since before you can remember."
That she did not understand, his words puzzling her, yet not managing to calm her down. And there was one more thing, one thing that had nagged at her mind since they were out in the burning forest.
"That night….you were yelling." She started, the memories flowing behind her eyes all too vividly, and she could almost hear the rain smacking on her face, inhale the smoke and smell the ashes that filled her nose and mouth and covered her vision. "You were yelling….and you said 'do not do it again'."
She paused, examining his expressionless face, his impenetrable eyes fixed on hers, not letting anything through, unable to read what he was thinking. But she knew he could remember exactly what it was she was retelling. "What did that mean? Why again? I have joined a connection like that before, have I not?"
Silence danced between the two, caressing her cheeks and neck with its ghostly hand. Even the dying fire seemed to stop crackling, and eerie stillness engulfing the already darkened room.
He moved, slowly, with difficulty he shifted on the bed, inching slightly to the side. She was about to stop him, watching new lines of pain appear on his frighteningly pale face, but his emerald eyes shot her a look that stilled her almost immediately.
"Sit here." Slender fingers patted the empty stop on the mattress to his right, a space he had just cleared for her.
"No, Ar, I will only hurt y-
"Sit here." He stopped her, once again patting at the deep blue bed covers, and this time, although hesitantly, she obeyed, carefully lowering herself at the edge of the bed, closer to him than she had been the entire morning.
He tried to hide a wince from showing on his face at the gentle dip in the mattress, and for his sake she pretended she had not noticed anything.
"I believe it is time I answer questions that you have asked me many times before." His voice was barely audible, yet the gentle silent words sent jolts of nerves and anticipation down her body.
That night. The one he never seemed to want to talk about. The one she had asked him about before already. The memories Lossenel had not wanted her to inquire about, memories that Legolas had been too young to remember.
"Then I have joined a connection such as that before." She could barely process the words, her lips moving slowly on their own, heart beating fast.
"You have." He nodded. "And It was both: what saved you, and what doomed you."
Slender fingers curled weakly around hers, shivers travelling down her arm. Hs skin was worryingly cold to the touch. And then the darkened bedchamber was gone from around her…
I know it's awfully mean to cut the chapter here, but the memory in long and this chapter was already over 15 pages! I hope you enjoy reading it, although there's really no action in it, it's necessary for the rest of the story! Were are about to reach a key point in the story!
Thank you deeply to all of you who left reviewed for the previous chapter. Your words are kindly appreciated and I always find courage in them to continue with this already long story: SeekerOfStories, StarFilledSkies, amsim, apple, Mystifying Roses, Saum the Smol Teddy, Daughter of the Oceans, Stardust043, Robmart, helenaxo, GondorianElf, and Wtiger5.
Love,
Elena