Beginning Note: Thanks for everyone who read the first chapter and to those who favourited and alerted the story!! A few things that I forgot to mention in the beginning: The Emerald Courtier is a short story, probably spanning about 8 chapters and takes place over the period of three to four days. Because of this the story is set at a faster pace.
I have written most of the chapters, but I would love to hear your feedback, whether you love it or hate it. I'm constantly rereading and editing to see what can be improved and where, so if you have any comments, encouragement or constructive criticism please let me know. And just because the chapters are written doesn't mean the story can't change DRASTICALLY! Just something to keep in mind :P
Also, I'm still looking for a beta reader so if anyone's interested let me know :)
Enjoy!
-Periodic
Chapter Two: The Snake in the Rose Bush
"Hold on hold tight,
Make it through another night,
And everyday there comes a song with the dawn"
Mat Kearney – "Breathe In, Breathe Out"
Legolas entered the chambers that had been secured for Gimli, Pippin and himself, shutting the heavy door behind him.
"Ah, ye're back. Pippin brought tobacco to share. It seems being in the Steward's service gives a few perks after all." Gimli greeted his friend with a laugh though it trailed away when he saw the quiet fury on Legolas' face.
"What's happened?" Pippin stood up from his seat, small face drawn. It was a test to the times in which they lived that his once smiling, cheery face could now hold such worry and angst.
"What keeps Aragorn from coming?" Legolas asked softly.
"Gandalf said they were to seek out the Dead Men of Dunharrow. I would think it would be no small feat."
"If he does not arrive in Minas Tirith before the orcs attack Gondor will fall; already man's hope is wasting. We must force council with Denethor, he must recognize Aragorn as king when he arrives." Legolas strode up and down the room and his friends watched him.
"If we don't succeed in convincin' Denethor Gandalf'll be knockin' down his door and forcin' him to recognize Aragorn as king." Gimli shrugged and scratched at his beard. "Is that all that bothers you?"
"Yes…no…I met someone today."
"Oh?"
"A female."
"An elf-maid? Ha! Ye lucky scoundrel, if only Gondor would reveal their dwarven women as readily they do the elves!"
"No, no not an elf. A human."
Silence followed this statement, along with raised eyebrows and a quick shared glance between Gimli and Pippin.
"Well, this is a surprise," Pippin managed at last and the two grinned.
"You're rogues, the pair of you. It's not meant like that." Legolas paused a moment, deep in thought before turning to his friends. "Didn't Boromir speak of a woman at one time?"
"Ha! At one time? At all times! 'Never a more striking and exotic maiden – though she never said where she was from. Dark, golden skin and big green eyes near the colour of my cloak. No, no, that's to plain; eyes like emeralds! Yes, the most beautiful emeralds. And her hair was never worn in the current fashions, but left long and wild, not quite black, but the dark brown of mud or dirt…only prettier!'" Gimli broke off with a laugh, touching a knuckle to his brow. "Bless him; Boromir was a great soldier, but no poet."
Legolas stopped pacing, frowning thoughtfully. "Then I am sure. It was this woman that I met."
"Valar help us, not you too!" Gimli laughed, "If ye start spoutin' horrid poetry I'm off."
Legolas glared half-heartedly at his friend who only laughed harder.
"Hang on; I think I know who you're talking about!" Pippin spoke up suddenly, eyes wide. "That's Lady Aurelia."
"Aurelia?" Legolas turned quickly and Pippin nodded eagerly.
"It must be, there's only one woman who fits that description and it's her. She was a lesser noble but Denethor gave her a new title and land. She's uh…they're um…" Pippin stuttered to a halt and only continued when Legolas and Gimli urged him to do so. "Nobody really knows where she came from. Some say the South, but it's all speculation. Some say she's not really a noblewoman at all but a commoner Denethor took a fancy too. She's easily the most beautiful woman at court, except for Lady Gilraen who was Denethor's first mistress but…she was expelled from court for slander."
"Slander? Against who?"
Pippin shrugged. "Against no one really, it was never proven. Apparently she was heard talking of Aragorn's 'imminent' return, and Denethor thought it close to treason. I hear he wanted her executed but Lady Gilraen fled before her arrest."
Legolas nodded grimly as he continued to pace. That would explain why Aurelia had been reluctant to speak of Aragorn when Legolas had mentioned him. "Who overheard Lady Gilraen?"
"No one knows that either. I'd put money on it being Lady Aurelia though. Her and Lady Gilraen never got on, and it's rumoured that near the end Denethor stopped calling on Gilraen in favour of Aurelia."
Gimli snorted. "Sounds like she's more trouble'n she's worth." He stood up to clap his friend on the arm. "Come on, it's late. Let's get us a drink and then to bed."
* * *
Legolas woke suddenly, restless and agitated. He glanced over at his snoring companions, envious of Gimli and Pippin's sound sleep. Legolas himself had slept fitfully, catching only a few hours of sleep at best. He'd dreamt of sullen faced children, watching from the shadows of alleyways as a light in Gondor's main street flickered and died. Their shrill, animal like wails filled the air with the falling darkness, and he knew them to be slaughtering each other over the remaining scraps of light.
Shuddering, Legolas rose and dressed, quietly slipping from the room to pad through the halls and out into the vast courtyard. It was still dark outside though the paling sky told him it was a few hours till sunrise.
He wandered the gardens aimlessly lost in thoughts of Aragorn's return, and what it would mean to the people of Gondor. Rounding a corner he stopped at the sight of a woman seated on one of the many stone benches strewn about the garden.
"Excuse me, my Lady; I did not know anyone else rose at this hour."
"Master Elf, we seem to run into each other at odd hours often. Could it be I have a stalker?"
His head jerked up from the bow he'd made, and in the lifting gloom he saw the unmistakable dusky face and haunting green eyes.
"Lady Aurelia." He greeted, straightening quickly and giving a curt nod.
"Ah, so you learnt my name," She leveled him with a cool gaze, but the corners of her lips twitched. "That hardly seems fair, as I do not know yours."
He paused a moment and then with a slight inclination of his head: "Legolas Thranduilion of Mirkwood." He was mildly surprised when Aurelia rose from her seat and curtsied deeply, her gown fluttering in a practiced and smooth gesture.
"Of course, it is a fitting name for a prince." She rose just as smoothly and cocked her head to the side, a smile tugging at her lips. "Won't you join me, dear prince?"
Legolas hesitated for a moment, torn between making a quick retreat, and passing the otherwise long hours in her company.
"Aurelia is an interesting name," He submitted at last, moving over to join her on the bench. "Foreign is it not?"
"It is."
"May I ask where from?"
With this she tilted her head back and gave a silvery laugh. "You may! Dear prince, you may ask until you run out of breath, but I may not answer." She chuckled again and cast an amused glance his way. "Maybe you can tell me what the fascination is with a person's heritage. It seems I am asked this question at least twice a day." Her voice rolled and lilted over certain syllables while emphasizing others in a peculiar yet pleasing manner.
Legolas cleared his throat and spoke carefully, "I would think that many people believe they are who they are simply because of where they have come from. History and bloodlines influence what we are to grow into."
Aurelia seemed to consider this idea for a moment before shaking her head slightly and waving an elegant hand in the air. "Then think of me as no one from nowhere, who became Lady Aurelia of Gondor from nothing."
Legolas joined in with her brief laughter, "You seem to be in a good mood this morning." He said somewhat dryly, and while she appeared to recognize his tone, she smiled serenely in response.
"I am," She said simply. "I love the morning; coming out here where it is quiet and peaceful, and watching the sun rise. There is nothing more beautiful than the end of the night and the beginning of the day." Aurelia turned to face the horizon, tilting her head back slightly as if in acceptance of the coming rays and letting her eyes close slowly.
He watched the rising sun light up her bronze skin and whether she had intended it or not, he saw the tension from the night before leave, as if with every breath drawn she released her sorrows. He realized with a start that this was her way of escaping the fear that prevailed in the city, and at once felt bashful and awkward as if he were privy to something intimately private.
"Lady Aurelia, you will see the rightful king return to Gondor. I will make sure of it." His voice was low but intent, even fierce with conviction.
"Do not speak of such things, dear prince. This is not the place for politics."
"Things could be better for you, if you would just believe me. There is hope!"
"Where is he now?" The sharp question caught Legolas off guard as she had not moved nor opened her eyes. "This king, this banisher of despair; this bringer of hope. Where is he?"
"He comes by ship, even as we speak. Word was sent to me by messenger bird that Aragorn commandeered the Corsairs of Umbar's ships and sails to Minas Tirith!" He saw that against her better judgment her interest had been sparked.
"Did he? How did he manage such a feat?" Aurelia asked, at last turning to him and Legolas hesitated for a moment.
"There was an army of long ago, the Dead Men of Dunharrow, cursed to never pass into the afterlife until released by Isildur's heir. Aragorn had them fight at Pelargir and drive away the Corsairs-"He broke off as she laughed out loud. "What is it that amuses you, my lady?" He asked rather coldly but she only continued to giggle.
"Oh I am glad you joined me this morning, dear prince, I always did love ghost stories." Her patronizing amusement annoyed Legolas and he felt a determination to convince her.
"He will come."
"With his ghosts?"
"Yes! …Well, maybe not," He admitted on further thought, feeling foolish. "I believe he released them." Aurelia slowly grew somber, the tension that had been eased by the sunrise returning to stiffen her shoulders with each passing word.
"He will not come in time," She murmured, her soft voice bleak. "And if he does what will be left for him? A broken city ravaged and stricken by constant battle, its people starving and poor, it's Steward unwilling to release his rule. Suppose he sees what he is to inherit and thinks better of it?"
Legolas reached out to put his hand over hers. "I know Aragorn, and he would never do such a thing. Have faith Lady Aurelia."
She looked up and smiled a naked, shaking smile that was at once fearful and determined to hope. "Dear prince, I am glad you joined me," She said again with soft sincerity. "I would appreciate it if you told no one of this spot. I would hate to have it spoiled." Her gaze dropped for a moment and then lifted back to meet his.
He stood as she rose from the seat, nodding grimly. "No one will hear of it from me," He promised and she smiled in return.
"I will hold you too your word. Good day Prince Legolas Thranduilion of Mirkwood."
"Good day Lady Aurelia." He turned in the opposite direction and began to make his way out of the garden, more than a little confused by their bizarre encounter. Where on their first meeting Legolas had found her infuriating, and again today had been frustrated by her, he had found a charm to her rare earnest smiles and penetrating stares. In this tucked away corner, under dawn's tentative light, she made it easy to forget her discretions, appearing vulnerable and fragile. Legolas had only to think of Lady Gilraen to know this to be a lie. The woman was vile. A snake. Treachery was her true love and ambition her bed fellow. He marveled at her duplicity, those smiles he had taken for sincerity were likely masked smirks; that sweet laugh a taunting cackle, and he cursed himself for trying once again to sway her to the truth of Aragorn's return. If Legolas wasn't careful Gimli, Pippin and he could end up following closely in Lady Gilraen's footsteps.
The image of her sorrowful green eyes caused his assurance to falter. There had been no lie in that intent gaze, but then why had she supposedly lowered her guard if not to trick him? And to what end?
Legolas sighed and shook his head. Better to be wary of her than to naively believe in the purity of women.
Perhaps Gimli had been right: she was trouble, and likely more than her worth.
"The purity of women" is an indirect quote to Sigmund Freud who stated that the "two greatest fallacies are the belief in the innocence of children and the purity of women". I forget how the exact quote goes, but it's somewhere along those lines. There are other allusions in this chapter as well, but this was the most obscure one that I felt needed mentioning…especially since I'm not even sure of the quote's precise wording lol.