Chapter Four
I felt like a hostage. I was being held by both arms to be taken to the King and all my weapons were taken away. I felt empty without them. I was dragged inside only to be greeted by one of the most majestic Elves I had ever seen. Yet somehow I recognised him. Strangely familiar.
"You brought back my son half dead," the King said, trying not to cry, "How did this happen? How could this happen to my beloved son?"
"King, his hunting party got attacked by a dragon and the reason I even considered bringing him here is because I thought he was the King. I could not leave a nation leaderless." I replied coldly.
"How did you know about the hunting party?" the King demanded.
"They had orc blood on their weapons. It was obvious," I coldly stated.
"You are clever, but troubled. I see it in your eyes…" the King stared into the distance for a moment, maybe too long a moment. I was getting bored… "I would like you to stay at the palace." Finally, some notion he was still alive. "I would like to honour you for saving my son from the dragon. It would take a great deal of courage to run into dragonfire." No, it takes a great deal of bloodlust.
"No, King. I like to be alone. Might I ask before I leave, what is your name?" I asked cooly.
"One does not simply ask the king his name," one of the guards interjected.
"That is true, if one wants to know my name who I want to know it, they would already know." the King stated.
"If you do not tell me, I will not stay," I demanded. The King looked struck by my nerve. I was almost certain that the King had never been given an ultimatum before.
"In order to tell you my name, you must go down to the hospital wing to see that you are alright. That must have been traumatic." Was the King bartering with me?! Now this was getting interesting. But really? Traumatic? Oh please. That was the most fun I'd had in my whole life!
"Fine," I said slightly maliciously, "I will stay and be checked on. Now what is your name?"
"Oropher. King Oropher of Greenwood the Great," he said with much pride. I knew that name from somewhere... Oropher Oropher Oropher... Oropher?
"Were you from Doriath?" I asked more truly intrigued.
"Yes, Menegroth specifically. That is until the Second Kinslaying. I led my son and a few others here. The Silvan elves here took my wife Calaereth and I as their Queen and King respectively," King Oropher said proudly.
"I am of Menegroth too. My father was Arahaelon-" King Oropher cut me off.
"Arahaelon? Arahaelon was my best friend in Menegroth. After the First Sack though, that was one of the saddest days of my long life. But Arahaelon... Gilrin?! Oh you have changed so much! I remember when you were born! Arahaelon was the proudest I had ever seen him, and he had many reasons to be. You were a beautiful child, fair but surprisingly reddish-brown hair. You would come to my study when your mother was busy and so was your father, when you weren't watching him practice fighting. Not very often that would happen. You loved watching him practice his fighting. I am so sorry for your losses. That was horrible to watch."
"Take me to Doriath. To Menegroth. I want to visit their graves," I demanded.
"Gilrin, I am sorry, but Doriath is gone," the King said solemnly.
"Gone? It was taken by some evil?"
"No. The evil was so forceful that the whole of Beleriand is sunk. It is in the realm of Ulmo now," King Oropher said with disdain.
"No. This cannot be. You are lying, my home is still there, my parents graves are still there. You tell me lies," I spat.
"My lady, from the records, it seems to be that you were there," a guard said from behind. I started to remember that battle. I fought against the worst sort of orcs. I watched the land sink.
"I remember this. I stood by while my home fell, while the force of evil sunk it. I stood by and did nothing about it," I said very far away. I cried out in anguish and stormed out of the palace.
After the second worst moment of my entire life, I demanded my weapons back, and went to the practice range. I shot, I stabbed, I swished my sword. By midnight, the stuffed practice dummy was completely dead, all of its stuffing gone and its fabric torn to shreds. The target was full of arrows, so many arrows the target could no longer be seen. I found a replace dummy in the weapons closet and a spear. I had never learned to use a spear, as I had never found a spearmaster dead in battle before I had to leave. I picked up the spear. I choked the dummy, jabbed it, stabbed it. This is going pretty well, I thought. Suddenly, I felt the presence of someone else with me... it was an odd feeling, like I was being spied upon. I pulled out Berethcrist from her sheath.
"Who goes there? Who stands in the shadows?" I yelled. It was dark by now, and this was feeling very suspicious. Suddenly I saw a streak of silver. Someone was definitely spying.
"Come out from the shadows or I will cut your throat!" I screamed. Finally someone came out.
"You have great talent with the sword," he said. I turned around only to see the Prince of Greenwood. Standing there like he was prince of the world, not just Greenwood.
"You're supposed to be in bed. And what happened to your burns? Were they treated that quickly?" I demanded.
"The healers have already treated my burns," he said mystically. This was just getting weirder and weirder.
"Go back to bed, you were burned today," I ordered.
"Fine, if my lady says so," He responded sarcastically. He left, but he disappeared. Literally faded away. It was almost as if that wasn't him at all, but just an apparition of my imagination.
The next morning, I went to his wing in the healer's ward. He still had the burns, his one eye was completely cataracted where it had been burnt. He was completely asleep. Last night was an apparition, but why had I been thinking of him? Why was he important? Why was he inside my head? It's not like I liked him or anything, I liked no one in the world, except Fuirnil. This confused me very much. Suddenly I saw his good eye open. He started screaming, shouting, screeching for his mother. He was flailing. I yelled for the healers to get the King. I tackled him, or at least tried. He was determined to get his mother. He wrestled, he flailed, he scratched me so hard I bled. This was the mind of an insane ellon. I finally pinned him to his bed, when King Oropher rushed in.
"Ada I need Nana. Ada please? I need to see Nana…" and with that the troubled Prince of Greenwood fell asleep once more. King Oropher stroked the good side of his hair (half had of course been burnt to a crisp) and kissed the good side of his forehead.
"Why was he demanding his Nana?" I asked the King while we walked briskly to the King's study.
"As far as the world is concerned, Calaereth is dead. She was attacked by orcs on the road to Eregion. The world believes that she died. No, she was too strong for that." He opened the doors to the study and sat down. I followed quickly.
"Calaereth was attacked by them, yes. Died? No. She is still alive, but tormented. She may be my wife, but she is no longer Calaereth."
"What happened?" I asked.
"I sent her to Eregion to tell King Gil-Galad of the threat of Angband. I trusted no one else with the mission. No one else could know what I knew, but her. No one but she would stay loyal forever. On the road, just 50 miles before she reached Eregion, she and her party were ambushed by orcs. They were all captured, and tortured. We had not seen them for many months, and I was becoming ever more worried. I hadn't a letter, or any signal of her whereabouts. She had simply disappeared, until one day when she turned up at the door of our palace. She had a strange look about her, she looked darker, her hair was scraggly, and in her eyes I could not see light. Suddenly, she pulled out a knife from a new belt that I had never seen before. She screamed a scream that was almost other-worldly. She came at me with her knife screeching, and attacked me. If not for my defence skills, I would have been dead. She had begun the transformation into an orc. Naturally, being the only one that I love, I believed that I could bring her back. That seeing her husband every day would make her remember her life. I told my dear Thranduil, who was a mere 80 at the time, that his mother was deathly ill, and he trusted me, believed me. I told him that he could not visit her because being so young he would catch it. Such an sweet and obedient young child. Always did what he was told without question. I visited Calaereth every day for one hundred years. Every time she screeched and yelled, screamed for help. It was like she thought I was going to kill her. Eventually, I moved her to a different room so no one could hear her screams. It lasted for a thousand years, me visiting once a day. It got to the point that I found that she could not be alive to the world. I told my son that she had died of the illness. That destroyed him. Thranduil grew into an angry young ellon. He went on hunting trips for days, weeks, months on end. He would come back empty-handed. He stopped obeying, and grew so independent that it was more like defiance. His anger has lasted for one hundred years now. Two weeks ago, he heard me coming out of his "dead" mother's room, but heard a screech. He could hear that it was not me, and being defiant he decided to enter. I heard what happened that night. Thranduil had foolishly left the door open, so I could hear all. He was astonished to see his mother. Calaereth somehow recognised him. She started crying like mad, and so did he. He asked her to say what happened to her. She told him that a dragon had captured her in his talons. The dragon had taken her to am orc cave, where she had been tortured. After that, Thranduil did not talk to me for months. I would try to talk to him, but all he would say is "why should I care", "how am I supposed to know the truth when you lied about lives", and "liar". This broke me. He hated me. When I looked into his eyes all I could see was hate. And then he left. Thranduil and his friends left. I had no idea where, until Galion told me that they had gone orc hunting. I was terrified that they would do something bad. And here we are now. You here, my boy half burnt, my wife still locked away in that horrid room," Now the great King of Greenwood was crying. An awful sight to see.
"You should kill her," I said nonchalantly, not affected at all by the story.
"What?" the King looked up and stopped crying for a moment. "No. I will not kill my dearly beloved. That is out of the question."
"No it is not. She is dead inside anyway it is necessary."
"No. I will not. She is my wife and I will not take discussion of this. I will not kill her and nor will you! End of story!" the King of Greenwood screamed at me as he banged his fist against the table. I decided to leave him in peace.
Wow that took a long time to write! Again, please review, and follow/favourite! If you do, the stars (meaning myself included, I can tell them to do stuff I'm popular) will light your way for the rest of your days. If you don't, the stars will turn away from you and leave you in darkness as the years go by. (I know, I know, that was a little harsh but I'm desperate for reviews!)