Yes, yes I'm so sorry it's been too long! But I managed to get a few things sorted. Ugh, please don't kill me! Ad this isn't much of a chapter anyway, unlike the next one. SO, SO SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO SORRY!
Chapter Nine
Forewarning, Hunting Spies and Omens
Melda! Vanimelda!
Vanimelda instantly woke up.
She remembered dancing that night. All of them crowding around her, laughing and singing. Many ellyn- too many ellyn- were all crowding around her, like a poacher's net. She loathed the feeling. But only one managed to drive the rest away. They danced for a while. He was very handsome even for elven standards, but Vanimelda did not feel any easier around him. So what if he was handsome? Sapzôr was beautiful when she had sucked a maiden's youth and beauty.
You're growing wise, Melda Seldë, her mother's voice spoke in her mind.
Don't say anything aloud.
Yes Amil.
After in between dances, she had been offered food and drink to refresh herself. She resisted. But the dancing and song were designed so that Avari elves would release themselves- let themselves go into oblivion for one night, until they exhausted themselves, her mother warned. She needed to rest. A mortal would have dropped dead- literally- from a weakened heart and exhaustion. It would have killed anyone that wasn't immortal and even then it was draining.
Vanimelda looked around. Yes, she remembered what happened the night before. There were maids sleeping, in beds all around her, snoozing comfortably under thick wool-like comforters and quilts and down-stuffed pillows. The room was dark, but it did not look like it was in a cave. It looked like the interior of an artificial structure made if wood. She remembered going somewhere, deep into tunnels in the system of caves, herded along told by her mother to go along with the other maidens. She remembered being assigned a bed and taking off her elaborate, glittering gown and jewels and putting on a flannel nightdress.
She shook her head. Her mother kept the worse of the magic at bay. It was a good thing she stopped dancing before she passed out from exhaustion.
I have to find the queen, she told her mother. I have to know.
And walk into a trap? Her mother sounded disapproving. She knows my fate, Amil, Vanimelda insisted. I have to know too.
Do you think she would really tell you? Her mother sounded incredulous. Do you think she would give you anything without asking you to give up something that you cannot afford to lose- like your freedom? Her own son has his own sights on you.
Her son? Vanimelda was bewildered. The one that danced with you in the end. The one whom all others parted for him.
Oh. That one.
Get out of here. And don't go back to Sapzôr. She will give you light but at your own price- she will attempt to suck you dry as she did the others.
Won't they try to stop me?
We shall see about that. Take the necklace. It belongs to you now.
She saw the necklace on the table by her bedside. She snatched it immediately. Get the gown, her mother said. You have nothing else to wear.
The gown shimmered and glittered as if it was made out of liquid starlight, the silvery-green leaves seemed to move and sway on its own. It was so realistic, she thought as she touched the fabric, intricate and finely embroidered. She had never seen weaving so beautiful. The branches and vines themselves seemed like actual spring green, only much too beautiful, even if they weren't touched by silver and so detailed it was perfect. The silver touched the green becoming one- there was no clear division. At times the leaves were green, and at others silver, while other times they mingled perfectly together in the light captured. The same could be said about the leaves on her embroidered sleeves in silver trimmed with silvery-green, or the other way around.
This was her mother's work. No one, Eldar or Avari, had the skill to make such things. No one. Only her mother and Míriel Serindë, their foremother.
Yes, her mother said. I made it for you.
She froze. If that's the case, she said slowly. How did she get it?
Silence.
I need to leave still. But I have a feeling I would not see the last of them.
No, her mother agreed. Go. I will protect you from their magic. Go!
Vanimelda wasted no time talking. She left the place, tying the sash securely in place and slipping on her shoes.
Heart pounding, she made her way out of the place.
Yes, they were underground. But it was very shallow ground. Made with a system of natural, not artificial tunnels and caverns. Not like the dwarves who delved deep underground. And this was near, very near the surface.
I need something to drink. She said.
There's a river, coming from the roots of the hazel tree. Her mother said. That one imparts wisdom. The one coming from the roots of the willow will make you forget even who you are.
She stopped dead. There were two rivers, both glassy-looking in the caverns.
Which one?
Sense it, her mother urged. I cannot tell you which one outright. You must use your own power.
My foresight? She asked incredulously.
Yes.
Vanimelda inwardly groaned and closed her eyes.
She searched. She searched. Everything was silent, just as her mother and Almarië taught her. Speaking of which….
Almarië waits for us outside, her mother said. Now concentrate!
She closed her eyes again. She reached out with her fëa. She allowed herself to go free, beyond herself, to float amidst blue swirling darkness with stars floating calmly around her. She saw it, and stepped forwards. There was a swirling whirlpool of stars and midnight in front of her. She walked slowly towards it.
She dared not to breathe, even as a great white light illuminated itself in front of her.
She had been practising. But somehow…
No, she wasn't ready.
Yet she still stepped forwards.
Her mother was there. And she had always protected her.
Amidst the light, she saw, clear as day, herself kneeling in front of the river on the left. She cupped water in her hands, and drank it. Instantly her head threw back and her eyes, wide and filled with terror, went blank. She could feel her future person's mind lose everything. Everything, going if not gone…
It was the wrong one.
And she saw herself kneeling on the river on the right. Cupping water with her hands, scooping it from the river, drawing it to her mouth and drinking it. And she saw light explode in her mind and her eyes grew more focused and understanding and clarity were illuminated within.
The light engulfed her.
She gasped, coming back to the present and catching herself before she fell.
It's the one on the right, she thought.
Yes, her mother said. Now drink. You will need it.
She went to the river on the right. It was clear as crystal. No creature dwelled there, not even the pale fish and crayfish that inhabited underground pools which went white in colour and blind due to the lack of necessity for colour there and perpetual darkness. It was so clear.
She scooped water with her hands, cupping it, and took a deep breath before it entered her mouth.
It was as clear as crystal, fresh and cold, and sweet exploding on her tongue with all the freshness and clarity the whole world could offer. She felt her mind rejoice as it dispelled all the murkiness of the night's events and she felt as if tendrils of dancing, joyful colours were exploding into life and dancing within her mind. She felt slowly more confident, everything became clearer. She felt rejuvenated and strengthened. Yes, now yes, she could see light, yes she could understand!
In that state of euphoria, she drank some more.
Now she had to leave.
She ran quietly through the tunnels. And finally the night air hit her.
"You've been down there for two days," a voice said.
She looked down. There was Almarië sitting on the roots of the hazel tree, staring up at her diminutive hands folded neatly on her lap.
"We need to leave," her voice sounded clearer.
She knelt down and gathered Almarië.
"Well, well." The queen's voice entered her ears.
She froze and turned.
The queen smiled wider. She seemed unsurprised.
"Princess Vanimelda. You truly are something, aren't you?" Vanimelda raised her head.
"You didn't think you could leave so easily, do you?" She chuckled. "No. Doriath itself did not allow anyone to leave or enter its boundaries so easily. Neither did Gondolin. So why should we be any different, even if we are Avari?"
"You know too much for someone who never met my mother in life." She said. "And for someone who had never been to Valinor either. You obtained a necklace, a gown and a mirror, the first given to my mother, the second woven by my mother and the third, used by my grandfather to find his heart's desire."
"Ah, yes." The queen sighed. "Clever of me."
"Merely clever or deviously cunning?" She asked. "Either way it is not enough. Your connection to Sapzôr… surely you don't think that she won't threaten you and your people?"
The queen raised her eyebrows. "Why would she? How could she? My power is as great as hers- greater actually. I am not dependant on young maid to suck beauty and youth out of to maintain my power."
"No, but she will draw you in a trap. For now, she fears you. But a darkness is rising, queen of the Moriquendi. And with it, soon you will have to fear others greater than a mere, mortal-born witch who betrayed her own kind. What then will you do? When the darkness comes and clouds the forests of the deep, what then will you do?"
The queen was about to answer when she froze. "You drank from the hazel river."
That was the first time Vanimelda had caught her off guard.
"Yes."
The queen's face reflected utter shock. "How did you do it?" She whispered. Which one…."
So the Avari didn't know which river granted wisdom and which one gave forgetfulness.
She cocked her head to one side. "You're not the only one with powers. And I am protected from your magic, now. I see things that others cannot." She said bluntly.
"Now, let me go. I intend to give Sapzôr a lesson she will never forget." She said icily. "She hasn't double-crossed me. If only I've done that to her." Her eyes burned bright and dark at the same time. She cocked her head to one side.
"What did you see?" The queen hissed, moving forwards as if to grasp her. "What did you see? You must tell me what you saw child, what the waters made you see!"
"I've already told you what I could between the ancient laws and my own visions," she retorted. "The rest is yours to decide." She narrowed her eyes. "I think you know there is more to me than it seems. Now, will you stop me trying to save Middle-Earth?"
The queen froze dead.
"One day, Vanimelda of the Noldor, Vanyar and Teleri, we shall meet again. My son will neither forget nor stop in his search for you. And when the time comes, you will help us when the darkness you speak of comes."
This one's wildly ambivalent, Vanimelda thought. She served no one but herself and the ones she loved. She might not even serve her people entirely. Vanimelda would neither count on nor trust her.
"Go," she said quietly. Her eyes burned with power. She raised her hand. Light seemed to shimmer and glow on her bare skin. "Go."
The word was imbued with a strength that astounded the queen. She was frozen in shock, and Vanimelda's icy violet eyes.
"That was far too close," her mother's voice spoke aloud.
Vanimelda nodded. "I don't like it one bit. She will want something of me. And the way the prince looked at me last night…"
"I don't trust him either," her mother said. "But you have to grow stronger, now. There's an illuminated skull- of all things- on the doorstep of those two that enslaved you."
"Excellent. So I don't need to go back to Sapzôr. But somehow I get the feeling I won't have seen the last of her."
"Trust your senses, Vanimelda. She is more than what she seems. The queen might have known more about her, and is more ancient, but Sapzôr has free rein to do what she wants. An elven sorceress is constrained compared to Sapzôr who can bewitch and destroy entire countries as she chooses, though she is less powerful."
"Does this have something to do with the fact that she is a human, well born at least- I have heard Thuringwethil and Dragluir infected humans to become their minions- and that humans may choose their destinies, the paths followed in their lives- and we can't?"
"Perhaps," her mother said. "We whose destinies are chosen by the All-Father and the Valar- our lives will linger forever, unless slain, and even then we may return from Mandos to walk on grasses green and breathe cool air once again. Not so with mortals- they live, they die, but always they may choose between right and wrong, between safe and dangerous, between what is hard and what is easy." Her mother sighed. "Technically speaking, we can make choices. That is something I've always wondered about- if we can make small choices and small choices can have big consequences, even without us knowing, how much in control are elves over their own destinies?"
"We'll never find that out," Vanimelda said, rolling her eyes.
"You'll be surprised." Was the only reply.
Vanimelda paused. "Did my great-grandfather… His own mother died having spent all her energy giving him life and strength. He had seven sons and grew to be the mightiest of the Eldar in the height of their glory. And yet… She must have decreed his fate."
"Yes." Her mother sighed. "I admit, I loathed Míriel Serindë as a young girl. I never will deny that. I thought if I ever saw her in Mandos, the most horrible things would come to pass, and I would make her eternity a torment- if she condemned the doom upon my father, uncles, cousins and grandfather- her own son and grandsons, and her great-grandsons, I can certainly force her to share the doom which she was responsible for in part. I will make her wish her fëa were in the void with Morgoth, and even then she would know no peace from me. She ran and refused to return at the earliest opportunity, even though she could. If it were me, I would claw my way out of the void and out of Angband and Utumno with my bare nails to reach you, and enwrap you in safety. I have endured things which no one could imagine- I was forced to, and yet Míriel was too cowardly to face life. She did not wish to face her offspring. My grandfather accused his wife of abandoning her own family the last they spoke. I knew he remembered Míriel- and that this influenced many of his decisions. Finwë was the only parent he remembered. He needed to avenge him."
"Did you make her suffer?" Vanimelda asked. "I would have. She deserves that and worse."
When she was young, Vanimelda had been told the story of her mother's life. Yes, there was one person whom they could loathe- although Fëanáro and his sons made the decision to take the oath, there was one person who really- should have suffered for it- Míriel Serindë. Of course, what she had felt…
"She deserved far worse than a painless death," Vanimelda said. "She should have lived to endure what she forced you too. She must have known it was coming after all."
"I think she did but she did not know the magnitude of it," her mother sighed. "She just didn't want to see it. In any case, she's come back to life."
Vanimelda stopped dead. "What?!"
"Mandos has released her." Was Estela's reply.
Vanimelda started. "He can't have!"
"He has. And I forgave her." Was what her mother said.
"How could you? How could he?" Hissed Vanimelda. No matter. She wouldn't. If she ever crossed paths with Míriel Serindë either living or dead..."
"Vanimelda," her mother said gently. "She did not know the magnitude and the consequences of her actions."
"But she should have known better at what a mother does! She's either stupid, or she should have known that at least if she lived again, there would be a chance of her making certain that Fëanáro would not have made such decisions."
"Maybe." Estela said. "But you're not the only one to react with hate. Míriel may be the most loathed woman in Valinor. Even my grandfather is forgiven compared to her. Everyone is disgusted and enraged. Especially the parents who have heard what she knew and did and arrived to Valinor from Middle-Earth by swan-ships or through Mandos. She is so ostracised and hated, and yet... They speak my name with love, reverence and awe, and I would not be alive if not for her. Neither would my father, grandfather, uncles and cousins. And I would not have met Indis. And my relatives, including your paternal grandfather, Artanis and Findaráto would not have been born."
Vanimelda sniffed. "She has to live with it. You all did. She came back too late. If she wanted to stay gone, she really should have for the whole of eternity."
Estela sighed. "I never thought I would pity her."
"You shouldn't." Vanimelda said. "She deserved far worse. She can take a few turning backs and glares. I take it that Finwë didn't come back?"
Her mother sighed again. "No. Not with Indis and Míriel both alive because he qas married to both. Indis has gone back to live in Valmar of her birth. I adore her. We shared a bond that shamefully I admit, I never had, or will have with Míriel."
"Too bad," Vanimelda said sarcastically. "She's alone. She has no one to comfort her. Well, neither did you! Or me! Or your cousins! Who is she to feel sorry? To me, every tear is too small for a step towards compensation."
Her mother sighed and said nothing. "I hated her as much as you, if not more," she reminded Vanimelda. "Nothing can be done about what she has done. There is only the journey to peace. To overcoming all obstacles and evil. That is what I have always intended- for you, even if I did not think for myself."
Vanimelda sighed. She sat down on a boulder. "I… I just… There are good people, and there is evil. Evil thrives and goes uncurbed and unpunished. What about the good? A thousand punishments for every single terrible thing, compared to nothing given to every good deed."
Estela sighed. "Yes, it does seem like that."
Vanimelda sighed again. "I need to sleep. My bedroll…" Almarië handed it to her from the pack. "Thank you. Amil, will you…"
"Of course," Estela said. "Rest well, Melda Seldë."
The sun was shining high in the sky when Vanimelda awoke.
She stared at the dawn. She wondered and marvelled at it, as if for the first time.
Is this what the first Men felt when they awoke? She thought. What my family felt when they beheld Laurelin's last flower rise in the sky for the very first time?
She stood and Almarië smiled up at her. They both rolled up the bedroll and Vanimelda gave out rations to Almarië. They chewed on the lembas. Vanimelda was brought back sorrowfully to the times when Vorondo gave her the lembas and they ate together alone. They drank fresh spring water. Here was a blueberry bush, nearby.
"I need to bathe," Vanimelda said. "There's a hot spring nearby." Almarië replied, looking up from the piece of lembas, she was munching. She bit in it again. "It's a good stroke of fortune."
Vanimelda sighed. She went to the stream found the spring and bathed. She found a piece of bark, and brought the scented oils she had in her pack, and scrubbed herself with it. She did the same to her hair, using a comb she had brought. She felt so excellent.
But something was not right. As she soaked, Vanimelda tried to ignore the lingering feeling that something was not right. She scrubbed and soaked herself. She sluiced dirt, grime and whatever else from her. Even if the water was cold, she would have luxuriated in it. She barely had any time for herself in Sapzôr's house.
But she knew she was being watched. She stopped as she finished bathing.
Her feelings were confirmed when Almarië shouted, "Melda!"
"I take it this thing is more liberal to your people and customs than it is for mine." She said.
She turned.
There was the Avari Prince.
He was handsome to say the least, magnificently so. His face looked even more carved and chiselled, his features regal and patrician, and his milky skin gleamed in the twilight. His hair gleamed a sharp contrast, the deep black, though not as black as Vanimelda's tresses, black as pitch or jet soaked in water, and it looked that shiny. And his smile. It was like the sickle of an orc's blade, except whiter and cleaner, but utterly devious and untrustworthy. He was incredibly tall, dressed in black and emerald-green. His hair is pulled back and combed, he wore a short tunic, trousers and a gambeson doublet, different to the style of the Sindar, in the fact that the colours were darker, more subtle to blend in with the forest's foliage, and that the clothes were even more close-fitting with no excess material to go free and snag in any branches or be spotted, yet covering the pale skin remarkably well.
He was smiling at her. She looked acidly at him. He smiled still.
She turned to face him. A good thing that the water distorted any view he might have had of her naked figure. But he might have seen her undressing. Still, she refused to be cowed by him.
She was done soaking, sluicing and washing, anyway. She raised her eyebrows at him.
"Yes, I suppose you're right." He smiled, which didn't reach his eyes which were dark with a frightening desire not uncommon in the eyes of dragons upon their hoard. "We care mostly about survival and staying inconspicuous."
"So why are you talking to me?" Vanimelda demanded. "I'm not exactly inconspicuous. And I doubt talking to me, would help you in that. I was sent to your people on an errand. I have accomplished that. Why do you follow?"
"I'm just… terribly interested in you, I suppose." He smiled, slyly, leaning against a tree trunk.
She scoffed. "Interest doesn't get you anywhere. In any case, your people and mine have very different laws regarding a person's interest. The last time our kinds were bonded together… well, surely you must know of Ardehel Ar-Feiniel the White Lady of the Noldor and Eöl. Look how well that turned out. Her family didn't like the way he took her either."
He arched an elegant eyebrow. "Aredhel and Eöl… Hmmm. Their story does not ring familiar in too many ears. Fortunately, I seem to know their tale. She died didn't she? And so did he? And their son was a traitor?"
"So you do know the tale," she said icily. She didn't dare mention to him that Aredhel was related to her by blood. "And you know how it offended her family. Taking a maiden- not entirely unwilling, but without the blessing of her closest relations- does not win any prizes. A pity that, despite being of the same race, we think differently. And I'm no romantic fool, I think I should warn you of that."
"So not a romantic," he mused. "And not one to fall easily to charm. There's no way to win you, is there?"
"I prefer to live a free maiden," Vanimelda said icily. "As always." She gave him an icy smile.
He gave a mock sigh. "So I see I must find another way to win you." He gave a crooked smile now. "How did you do it?"
"Hmm?" She asked. "The enchantments, the ones that were supposed to prevent you from leaving the caverns." He explained. He cocked his head to one side. "Aredhel didn't and couldn't fight against the enchantments that stopped her from leaving Nan Elmoth. How did you?"
She stared at him, then began laughing hysterically. She laughed so hard, even though it really wasn't funny. So her mother's protection had worked after all, not that she'd doubted it.
"Oh, I am full of surprises," she said calmly. Her eyes were hard as diamonds. She reached to the bank and pulled the towel. Her eyes were acid and never left him for a second. "You'd be a fool not to know that."
Inwardly, she cringed. But she slowly waded towards the bank, pulling the towel tight around her, securely knotted at the end.
He didn't take his eyes off her, for a single second. The water steamed as it came off her skin, leaving it glowing so silver-white, brighter than a pearl. The droplets glittered like tiny diamonds dropping off her skin leaving it to shimmer once the steam cleared. Her hair gleamed the deepest black, deeper than polished jet, and the light flashed reflecting off it. All the while her violet eyes flashed at him.
She knew what he was thinking. She wasn't stupid. And her mother, despite communicating through spirit alone, told her many things.
Including things like this. This was why she was supposed to remain hidden.
"Are you going to stare at me all night?" She asked.
"All eternity if I can," he said with a sly smile.
"You're clever," she admitted. "But first you'll have to catch up to me. And then you have to catch me… And to fight me."
Vanimelda's eyes burned violet-purple right through him.
"I will live life on my own terms, as much as I can," Vanimelda said in a very deadly voice. "Apart from what part of my destiny has already been decreed." She smiled. "Now, why don't you leave? I'm sure they'd be missing you."
And she used her fëa to call upon the spirit that she desperately needed.
After, somehow, her mother managed to cast an illusion of sorts, Vanimelda hurried away, dressing, picking up Almarië and her things and scurrying off.
"What about Sapzôr?" She asked Almarië.
"Forget about her," the doll scowled. "And if she hunts me down?" Vanimelda asked.
Almarië scoffed. "She was planning to do it anyway, once you'd left and thought you were safe. The test of your courage has only just begun. You'll need more than courage, however, to survive the challenges ahead of you. Damn it, child. Your mother and I would rather have you live a safe and boring life, than this. But we have no choice. You are one of the Eldar."
She shrugged. "Now, you must leave and stay quiet for a few centuries." Almarië said. "One day intruders will come."
"Intruders?" Vanimelda asked bewildered. "What are you-" but she was cut off.
A vision passed before her eyes. A pool of steaming hot water- the hot spring. Two men. A net, an apple and a wolf? What in the world?
And a man. Tall and noble, undeniably, intimidatingly strong and proud. In armour. He wore an emblem on his sur-coat over chain-mail. The White Tree of Isildur. Surrounded by seven stars.
"It will be a while." Almarië said grimly. "Don't trust them, though. Not completely. Especially not him."
Vanimelda looked in alarm at Almarië. "Are they evil?" "No." Almarië said grudgingly. "But I wouldn't trust them, even though I would make a point to get along with them."
Vanimelda rushed to get away as quickly as possible. She did not notice strange birds nearby. Crows. With dark, dark wings, looking at her with beady black eyes, like onyx dipped in water, reflecting her image as she hurried away, feeling the cold chill of foreboding in her heart.