Disclaimer: I do not own Hobbit or The Lord of the Rings, this story is not for profit.
Chapter 7
I found myself, not for the first time, marveling at the common folk. How they could be so smart, so strong, and yet, so infuriatingly superstitious.?
"I will not go through Ered Nimrais." Aeiliel told me for the forth time, huddled around our small campfire that we built to permit ourselves an hour of rest before we rode again.
"Yes, I heard you four times ago." I muttered.
She glared at me over her arms crossed over her knees. "You would do well to take this more seriously. The paths of the White Mountains are well known to be haunted by the Dead."
I rolled my eyes. "That's just a story."
"A true one!"
"You are being so ridiculous. That is simply a tale told by our ancestors to stop people from coming into the South."
"You think you are so smart when you pretend to be so skeptical, but a cousin of mine heard it from a friend of one of his cousins that visited near the gateway to The Paths of the Dead and swore that the area was inhabited by those traitorous monsters."
"Running into some dead men is not my concern. I am more afraid of running into some living ones." Seeing her face, I felt compelled to add, "Anyways, Harrowdale is a ways west of here, so it will be unlikely, even if there were such men, that we would come across them."
Synchronously we gazed up at the foreboding peaks ahead of us. It was said that the mountains were nearly impossible to pass through, but for us, it was pass or die, for we had been chased to this spot by the hired hounds of my cousin who no doubt hoped this would stop us. At least Aeiliel and I could agree that we would rather take our chances in the cold, towering mountains, and die alone, and give the men an unpleasant time following us, than to surrender.
"Does it strike you odd that most of the famous tales of maidens are of their beauty and support of their menfolk? Never really fireside tales of their own adventures. To say, I cannot recall too many."
"Nor I." I poked the fire a few times. "I suppose that it could be that most women do not go on many adventures, being too busy doing all of the work. Or it could be that the menfolk do not favor tales of the courage of our sex that outshine their own."
"Or perhaps we die on our adventures, and there is no one to tell what we have done."
There was an uncomfortable pause for a moment, as we both gazed into the fire, until I broke the silence.
"I think we should be going now."
…
What can I say of our journey through the mountains? It would not be new news to say that we encountered misery and hardship through the passes, but I will say that all of the negative aspects of our trip were tripled during our trek through the mountains, and all the positive parts lessened.
Food was increasingly scarce during those few weeks. There was not much to eat at all, and our rations were miserable. Once during the journey through the forbidding hills we came across a white rabbit that Aeiliel easily caught, but I couldn't bring myself to kill it for our dinner. I said to Aeiliel that skinning it and cleaning it would be more trouble than it was worth, and she nodded, understanding what I really meant.
It was also worse because we were very ill dressed to the climate. We slept huddled in caves by a fire at night and only traveled during the full heat of the day, which was still quite cold.
Also, the few pleasantries of the old trip, speaking with Aeiliel as we rode our horses, was all but impossible now. The weather and the hunger put us in a foul mood; not to mention weak and unwilling to speak, so we mostly walked and climbed in silence. We missed our horses as well. They had been left behind before we came into the mountains; knowing that trying to take them through the passes would be all but impossible and wasteful of time that we did not have to waste.
And it was worse because our pursuers persisted in following us through the passes of the mountains, as we observed one evening from a height, watching them below walk their horses on the treacherous footpaths. If there was one blessing, it was that they would be far behind us now, the time wasted taking their horses with them would buy us some time on our feet when we came out of the mountains afterwards.
…
Coruven knocked softly on the door to his father's chambers. He heard a "come in" from the other side that was slightly muffled by the heavy wooden door.
He pushed the door open and saw that his father was writing at his desk. It was still early and he was wearing a long robe he often wore around his rooms at night and in the early hours of the day.
"What is it?" the King said, not looking up from his papers.
"A letter to you, from Legolas at Lorien." He held it up high to get his father's attention.
"Oh, good." His father's voice was calm, but he could hear the excitement in it. He even got up from his desk to come take it from his younger son.
How like his father to get excited when it was the older son who had something to say.
In Coruven's opinion, his father hid his preference for Legolas very badly. He could understand why, Legolas was as fine an elf as there was, and much like his father. People had always told Coruven that he himself was more like his mother, although he could not remember her that well. All he could recall was a sad, beautiful elleth who had smiled at him and sang to him when he was a child. She was an idol to him. A beacon of light and radiance that he loved and whose place in his heart no one could ever replace.
Especially not some young, foolish mortal girl.
He did not think his father had serious feelings for the girl, but his clear enjoyment of her company was insulting enough as it was. It angered him to see his father laugh and smile at all of the stupid and disrespectful things she said to him, as if she were the most charming thing in the whole world and not an unworthy mortal with a price on her head. Thranduil had smiled more at the things she said to him at dinner this week than at the things that Coruven said to him in a decade. It made no sense. She was as different from his mother as a person could be. How could the King like her so much?
He had hoped that this morning he could subtly turn his father away from the girl.
"Is there something you need?" The King muttered to him, still reading Legolas' letter.
"No.. well..er…yes, actually."
His father sat back down at his large wooden desk and laid the letter down on it.
His father looked at him expectantly, so he went on, "You see, I am concerned for the safety of our people. That girl has been in our realm for some time now, and I am worried that word will spread and her cousin will come for her."
Thranduil dismissed the possibility with a wave of his ringed hand.
"Nonsense. No one in this kingdom would betray her. They love her, and anyway they would not betray me, for I have told them to be careful that no one comes to learn of her presence here."
"I understand that father, but her cousin could have spies, perhaps people in the Laketown. These things have a way of coming forth. And if he learns that we have been sheltering her here, it could be very unsafe for her."
His father paused at that, and actually seemed uncharacteristically worried for a moment. Coruven could almost feel his blood boiling.
"I suggest we send her away somewhere safe. Perhaps to Rivendell, or-"
"No!" his father stood up and shouted.
Coruven and his father stared at each other for a moment that felt like an eternity.
Thranduil seemed to regain his composure, and realized he was standing. He quickly sat back down and crossed his legs nonchalantly.
"There is the chance that know one knows yet. And a trip to another realm could be even more dangerous than keeping her here. She will stay."
Not trusting his voice, Coruven gave his father a bow, and left the chambers.
…..
As a maidservant tied the strings on my dress, this one an earthy, dark brown color with a pink shift underneath, she asked me if something was the matter.
She pulled tight on the back of my gown, which was one of my favorites. It was comfortable enough to wear around during the day, yet it looked so fetching that it was acceptable enough to wear to dinner. I did not think by myself that it looked that nice, but the King had mentioned that it looked flattering on me. Twice. So I wore it often.
The handmaiden asked me once again if something was wrong; I had forgotten to respond the first time, being lost in my thoughts.
"No, Galessel." I responded. I was so used to keeping my thoughts and feelings to myself. But after a minute, I looked up, meeting her eyes in my mirror.
"Actually, I have been feeling strange as of late."
Her look of surprise at my response encouraged me to go on.
"I have been feeling an odd sort of guilt. That, somehow, it is not right for me to be so carefree and joyous here, when so many dark things have happened and my life, and may happen again."
She finished tying the last knot in my dress, and walked me over to the cushioned vanity where she started to braid my hair into my usual long rope.
"Well, my lady,-"
"Please, Galessel, I have told you half a dozen times to call me Laurwen."
She smiled. "Yes, Laurwen. I do not know every detail of what miseries have befallen you, but it seems to me that you should never feel guilty for being happy or having a fine time. Indeed, if there were a reason to be happy and guiltless, it would be now, whenever we find ourselves in-between miseries."
Her simple wisdom was unarguable and faultless, but it did not dispel all of my worries.
"The thing is, I have a feeling of dread over me lately. Like my happy days are the sands in an hourglass, and the grains are almost all spilt over."
She put her hands gently on my shoulders as our eyes met in the glass.
"Laurwen, you have nothing to worry about any more. There is power in the goodness of our realm that will protect you." She smiled knowingly. "And of course the King would never let any harm come to you."
"Oh." I tried to sound indifferent, and failing miserably, "why do you say of course?"
Her smile grew broader. "He fancies you."
"What?!" I could see my face turn the color of a tomato in the mirror out of the corner of my eye. "He does not!"
She just turned away, still smiling, and began to gather up some of her things.
I persisted. "But, he always argues with me. And scolds me."
She laughed. "He argues with everyone. He scolds everyone. But he likes to scold and argue with you. And you don't cower before him when he's angry. You give it right back to him. I think he secretly enjoys that."
Her words gave me a thrill that I refused to acknowledge. It was ridiculous, after all. He was a widowed elven king, and I a young runaway mortal girl. I told this to myself, not to give myself assurance, but to stop me from hoping for something that could never be. You are young. People said this would happen when you got older. And who wouldn't be dazzled by a tall, beautiful King who gets angry so attractively? I thought to myself.
I decided to change the subject, as Galessel and I began to walk to the dining hall. "You know you need not serve me any longer. I am not a princess in this realm, and can dress and pick up after myself."
"I know. But I enjoy the time we have speaking. I am hired to serve, and I would like to continue serving you."
"Thank you." I was glad she said that. I would be upset as well, if our meetings were to stop.
…..
I tried not to notice the King's eyes watch me as I climbed the steps and walked up to my normal seat by his side.
He stood up when I came near and waved away the attendant, opting to pull my chair out for me himself. Catching Coruven's cold glare as the King pushed me toward the table was the only thing that could have soured the moment, and it did.
"How was your day, your majesty?" I often did not see him until this time in the evening.
"It was quite ordinary." He said, dismissing his Kingly activities with a wave. "Tell me what you did with your time."
"Oh, not much, really." I turned to his cousin a few seats down. "I spent some time with your daughter, Carfon, speaking with her and showing her a little how we fish in the South of Gondor."
Smilingly warmheartedly, Carfon finished chewing his meat before telling me, "I am glad that you've befriended the lass. She's a quiet one and often shy around other people."
I returned his smile. "Well your daughter and I are alike in that way."
Beside me, the King snorted.
I drew my eyebrows together, ready for battle. "Yes? Do you have something to say?"
He took another sip of wine. "No."
"Well you must have something to say because you made a strange sound when I said that I was shy."
"I suppose shy is not one of the words I would use to describe you, is all."
"And what words would you use to describe me?" I asked innocently.
"Stubborn."
I laughed. "Of course. Go on."
"Irritating, and irritable."
"Uh! No!" I frowned, thinking. "Well at least not the second one!"
He gave a small laugh. I loved it when he laughed; it made him look so young and happy. The hardness around his mouth disappeared and his eyes became soft and kind. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Coruven get up and leave.
The King did not notice his son leave. He went on, "No? Not the second one? Well...hmm… let me think.."
He pretended to think for a long moment, looking in my eyes and then raised his hand, "Aha! I've thought of a few more."
"And?"
"Thoughtful."
I smiled.
"Brave."
I frowned. And shook my head.
He shook his head as well, but in the affirmative. "Yes, Brave."
He was now speaking very softly, and I didn't even realize how or when he had done so, but he had now taken my hand.
"Comely."
I blushed.
"Clever."
I started, and so did he, because there was a large crash in the hall, and some loud voices. Many things happened that at that moment. Several people stood up at their tables, and the musicians playing during our feast all stopped.
Three men came into the hall, followed by several elven guards. They were definitely men of my mortal race, which I could see from their thick dark hair and scruff, as well as their heavy walk. They all wore black, travel stained clothes, with swords at their belts.
And as they approached the high table where the King, his lords and I sat, I could see one other thing. They were the men who were chasing Aeiliel and me halfway across the world for my cousin, minus one of them.
I believe I was frozen, and could not have been able to move if I wanted to.
The King quickly dropped my hand and raised his voice in anger, reminding me and everyone in the hall how terrifying he could be when upset.
"What is the meaning of this?!"
A young member of the elven guard stepped forward in front of the men, "My King, these men demanded a word with you. We told them to wait, that you were feasting but-"
One of the men, clearly the leader of the three, interrupted the elf, by stepping in front of him. He looked at the King for a moment, and then, losing interest, turned his eyes to mine, and would not let them go.
I tried not to shudder but failed quite miserably. It was not the first time our eyes had met, but the terror of the experience was not lessened during the second go round.
He spoke to King Thranduil, still looking at me.
"We've come on behalf of Lord Baldrick, the governor of Lebennin, who desires the safe return of his cousin Laurwen."
The King sat up very straight.
"I see. Well, the lady Laurwen is doing quite well in this realm, and I don't think will be traveling soon."
Reaching into his dark coat, the man pulled out a rolled up peace of parchment, and unraveling it, held it for all in the hall to see before announcing loudly, "The steward of Gondor has signed this decree saying that the young Lady should be returned to her cousin and her home."
"What makes the steward think that he has the right to command something like that?" said Thranduil.
"His lordship is simply concerned about the young lady. Allowing her to be under the guidance of her cousin is a safe way to ensure that she is not tempted by any of the traitorous tendencies that plague the rest of her family."
My chair made a loud scraping sound as it pushed back when I suddenly stood up.
"How. Dare. You. There is nothing traitorous about anyone in my family, save for my cousin." I said through gritted teeth.
The King stood up, too, and gently put his hand on my shoulder.
He spoke loudly, in his kingly voice for all to hear, "The authority of Gondor is not recognized in this Kingdom. You men will be permitted to leave this realm safely, but should you try to return, I cannot guarantee you the same kind reception."
They turned, without bowing and without word, and strode quickly out of the hall.
The feast dispersed after they left, everyone's good mood ruined.
