Here we go, chapter one!
"All right. This meeting of the Citizen's Council of Eryn Lasgalen will end now, unless there are any grievances," Badhron said, ruffling the various sheets of paper before him.
About a dozen elves stood, including an auburn haired elleth at the left of the hall, an elfling clinging to her skirt.
"Yes?" Badhron said, pointing at an ellon holding a shattered axe. The various grievances were dealt with. A missing weapon, a broken window, a robbery, and an invasion of termites were all addressed in due order, their claimants sitting down again after being spoken with. The elleth at the left of the hall waited until Badhron had finished dealing with a sisterly dispute, then faced him. "Hwimbes? What have you to report?" he asked.
"My lord, these pearls are cursed." She raised a hand to the pearl necklace at her throat, the white sheen of the pearls glimmering innocently in the sunlight.
A gasp ruffled through the room, and Badhron sat forward in his chair, to better see the rare artifact strung about Hwimbes' neck. "Pearls?" How did you get pearls?"
"My lord, that is beside the point!" Hwimbes said. Her face was pale and taut, as if she had taken no rest for weeks. "When the Sun vanishes, these pearls burn like coals at my neck, and my husband and I have no way of removing them: The clasp has vanished. As the pearls burn, my son can hear the screams of the woman who wore these pearls before they came to me. I believe she was of the Teleri."
A second gasp flitted around the room at the mention of the slain people, but Badhron raised a hand to silence the listening elves. "Hwimbes, this is a matter above you or I. We must see the king, and quickly. For if it is as you say, the burning will come soon." He stood and held out a hand to Hwimbes, who took it and followed the older elf deeper into the king's halls.
"Come, Málion," Hwimbes whispered to her elfling, as he lagged behind to gaze at the palace.
"Have you tried placing something in between the pearls and your skin?" Badhron asked, leading Hwimbes up a staircase and through a sloping arch.
Hwimbes tore her gaze away from the palace's many windows, outside which the Sun was sinking. "Yes, my lord. My husband Lhosben found the pearls, and he placed a cloth under them last night, but the cloth burned away. He tried again, with a cloth soaked in water, but it immediately began to steam." She glanced out of a window, nervous and weary all at once. The pearls shifted as she leaned down to kiss her son, and Badrhon caught a glimpse of badly scarred skin, wound around Hwimbes' throat in the shadow of the pearls.
He shook his head once to clear it, then raised a hand to knock. His hand was a millimeter away from the door's surface when Hwimbes started to scream. Badhron spun around to see her on the ground, hands clawing at her throat, where the pearls glowed white. Málion clung to his mother's arm, tears falling down his little face as the echoing shriek of another woman sounded under Hwimbes' screams.
The door behind Badhron flew open as the advisor knelt beside the stricken woman. His own hand had been singed as he tore at the necklace, and he stood quickly as Thranduil appeared.
"Badhron!" the king cried, kneeling beside Hwimbes. "What is happening?"
"Do not touch the pearls, my king!" Badhron gasped, but Thranduil had already brushed against them. He hissed in pain and drew back his hand, turning to Badhron.
"What is this sorcery?" he asked, eyes intense with worry and confusion. "What is the magic behind it?"
"I do not know. She told me of this in the Council, and I was bringing her to you. I was just about to knock when she collapsed," Badhron said. He glanced out of the window to see that the Sun had just vanished.
Thranduil grimaced. "Come, then. We must get her to a healer at once." He scooped the wailing Hwimbes into his arms and swept off down the corridor, elves watching him stride by. Badhron grabbed hold of Málion and followed the King. "Tell me more of this… this thing," Thranduil said. Badhron picked up Málion and hurried to the king's side.
"She tells me that her husband found the necklace and gave it to her. Every night since, the pearls begin to burn as the Sun vanishes. They have tried to protect her throat, but the heat burned a dry cloth and dried a damp one within seconds of contact." Badhron shifted Málion in his arms for a moment, then continued. "She has no way of removing the fiendish necklace: The clasp has vanished. But I fear that if we do not remove it soon, she will be harmed irreparably."
"I agree with you. Tell me, do you hear another voice screaming?" Thranduil said, pushing open the door to the healing room with his shoulder.
"Yes. Hwimbes tells me that they are the screams of a Teleri woman, perhaps the first owner."
"Teleri? That is not well." Thranduil set an unconscious Hwimbes down on a bed, then knocked at a door on one side of the room. "Maereth! We have need of your skills."
An elleth yanked the door open almost instantly, wrapped hastily in a robe. "My king!" she replied, pushing dark hair from her face. "I was not expecting any accidents today."
"Are accidents ever expected?" Thranduil replied. "This elleth, Hwimbes, is trapped within this necklace. It is burning her alive. Beware of the pearls," he added as Maereth went to examine Hwimbes. "They are like live coals."
Maereth knelt beside Hwimbes, wincing as she examined the scarring. She moved the pearls out of the way, prompting a gasp from Badhron. "Do not worry, my lords," she said grimly. "I have handled scalding things before, usually when I am forced to cauterize a wound."
"Can you help her?" Badhron asked. Málion was clinging to his robes, thumb in his mouth and tears on his face.
"I do not know. Is there a way to unclasp it?" Maereth asked. "Her skin is badly damaged, but should heal if we can get the pearls off now."
"We have tried, but there is no way," Thranduil answered. "The catch has vanished entirely."
Shouting echoed in the hall outside the room, and the door burst open to reveal an ellon, dressed in ceremonial armour. His helm was clutched in one hand, and his sheath in the other. "Where is she?" he gasped. "Where is my wife?"
Badhron stood between the elf and the king, hands held up placatingly. "Lhosben? You are Lhosben?"
"I am, and where is Hwimbes?" the ellon cried, trying to see around Badhron.
"I am here, my husband," a soft voice said. Badhron spun around to see Hwimbes trying to sit up. Her breath was short, and Maereth was trying to keeping her from rising.
"Naneth!" Málion cried, hopping onto the bed beside his mother. The jolting of the bed made Hwimbes gasp in pain, but she forced a smile on her face as her son watched.
"I shall take my leave," Thranduil said quietly. Lhosben bowed low, Badhron doing the same beside him. Maereth did not repeat the gesture, too busy helping Hwimbes. Málion climbed off the bed and bowed as well, over-exaggerating the action so that his light hair swept the floor. Thranduil smiled, ruffling the elfling's hair, then left.
Lhosben collapsed beside Hwimbes' bed, dropping his helm and seizing his wife's hand. "Hwimbes, my love, is it worse than usual?"
She smiled weakly. "No, Lhosben, it is just as bad as yesterday. How was patrol?"
"Please, love," Lhosben pleaded. "I know you're in pain. Just try to relax." Hwimbes winced as Maereth eased a salve under the pearls, then sighed in relief as the pain eased.
"All right. I will try to rest, and you tell all you can to Maereth and Badhron." Lhosben nodded, then kissed his wife's forehead before standing to face Badhron. Hwimbes lay back upon the bed and closed her eyes, her breath still short.
"It started two nights ago," Lhosben said. He, Badhron, and Málion had left the ward, and were standing in the corridor outside. "I came home from patrol. We had been on the river all day, and while my companions took lunch, I swam in the waters. While their enchantment holds no danger for the Eldar, they help one to relax. I had been stressed lately, though I see how silly that is now. The pearls were partially hidden among stones on the riverbed, and I picked them up." He sighed, running a hand through his light brown hair. "I was a fool. I should have showed them to my captain, not kept them for my wife. Things have been difficult of late, and I wished to lift her spirits." He scoffed, then swiped a hand across his eyes. "Málion, go back to the flet. Naneth and ada will be back soon." The elfling's face fell, but he gave his father a hug before skipping off down the corridor and out of sight. Lhosben began to weep in earnest after his son had vanished, his face buried in his hands. "Oh Valar," he groaned. "What have we done to receive this evil fate?"
"Lhosben." Badhron placed a hand on the other elf's shoulder. "Your wife will recover."
"WIll she?" Lhosben asked, eyes pained and desperate. "Will she really? Or will she have to sail to regain herself, to make her life whole again? It has been a nightmare for these past days. She cannot sleep at night, lest she passes out from the pain. She sleeps as the Sun rides, then is forced to endure this pain as the Moon passes. Málion watches her, he sees her pain. How do I explain to my son that his mother is dying and we can do nothing?" He placed his head in his hands and sobbed for a few moments, Badhron's hand upon his back. At length he stood. "I must see her once more before I sleep," he said, "though I feel that I should not leave her side."
Badhron stood as well. "You need to sleep, Lhosben. You cannot have slept since this began: You are a guard of the Wood by day, and your wife's protector by night."
"But I cannot protect her from this." Lhosben's voice broke again as he replied, but he straightened up and entered the ward.
Maereth had not been idle: The first salve she had placed under the pearls had done little, but she had replaced it with several since, each stronger than the last. Hwimbes was asleep, truly asleep and not unconscious from unbearable pain. "She will sleep for a long time, Lhosben," Maereth said, wiping the bits of salve on her robes. "I included some sleeping herbs in that last one, and they really put her under. All the same, I would like to keep her in the ward for tonight."
Lhosben shook his head. "No, I must bring her back to our flet. Málion is waiting for us."
"I must keep watch on her," Maereth argued. "She will need a new salve soon, and I am not sure that she could bear the move right now. The best you can do is to fetch your son and come back here. I have a cot that I can set out, but Hwimbes cannot be moved."
The room fell silent but for Hwimbes' soft breathing, still a little rougher than was normal. Lhosben, looking ready to collapse, finally nodded. He left the room without another word, and Badhron paused before following. He seemed to search for words for a moment, then spoke. "Will she sail?"
Maereth did not answer, but Badhron read it in her eyes: She has no choice.
As you can tell, this story's gonna be pretty f*cking dark. Sorry about that, but I hope you enjoy it otherwise.
