CHAPTER 17

"We are not talking about a small insignificant band of orcs here, one which we could have easily toyed and done away with. As you have very well witnessed at the village, they have joined forces to be controlled by yet another fiendish creature!" The Elvenking's tone was low as he uttered these words, but everybody heard them clearly due to the dead silence in the great room. For under a deceptively calm exterior, his annoyance at the latest occurrences transpired all too clearly.

"What I fear most Mithrandir, is that this is no mere one off incident," the King continued, slowly pacing towards the balcony overlooking the great forest of Mirkwood. Deep in thought, his eyes scrutinized the horizon, almost as if he was trying to perceive the danger lurking in the distance and annihilate it there and then.

He then turned round to face all in the room. "We must be prepared militarily for what may yet to come!"

"You have the alliance of all the men in Dale, my Lord Thranduil," said Bard, "along with King Dain of Erebor, I might add. I am persuaded that they would heartily agree in preparing ourselves just in case a similar threat arises. The King under the mountain has been more than helpful and generous with us this past year. No sooner shall I return to Dale then I will send word to him about your propositions and our agreement."

Bard looked straight at the King. "I am sure that once again united we will withstand the darkness. In the end light will finally prevail!"

Arahad felt proud of his good friend as he entered the room and hearing him utter those words to which those present nodded and voiced their agreement.

Yet his grin slowly faded as he noticed that not all seemed to be in accordance with what was being said. One particular elf carried a grim smile on his pale elvish face which one could remark seemed almost to be made of marble. The ranger sensed his heart was dark and it did not reflect the mood of courage and hope that everyone else was caught in.

Arahad was immediately wrapped up once again in the same feeling of uneasiness that he had sensed before when he was outside in the corridor. His eyes clouded in deep thought. Who was this elf, whose aura was so unclear and almost…forbidding? The people he had met in his life who possessed a similar one were thieves and murderers, so it was perplexing for Arahad to feel thus towards an elf. Elves could be very dangerous and merciless with their enemies yet he had never met one who was evil or cruel. Could he be mistaken?

He averted his gaze but promised himself to keep a close eye on him during the rest of his stay there.

Arahad moved towards the great wooden table at the centre of the room, around which all the others were seated. He was so intent in observing his surroundings and the view from the windows and balcony, which he could almost swear reached out all the way to Erebor, that he didn't notice he was being addressed by none other than the King himself.

It was Hamar's kick under the table that brought him back to Mirkwood Realm with a loud, "Ow! What the heavens did you do that for?" And turning sharply round he noticed that everyone around the table was looking at him, the King with a raised eyebrow.

"Mmm…yeess…my Lords and," looking at Hamar, "the rest," and he nodded, not really knowing what they expected from him.

Gandalf coughed, as if something had just blocked his throat and he wanted the passage cleared. "Arahad," he said slowly, "King Thranduil wants you to tell him how and where exactly the Queen was found."

Why did Gandalf look slightly uneasy? Was he afraid he'd make a scene? Well, he'll be served… "Then why doesn't King Thranduil ask me himself?" he replied cockily, his eyes never leaving the wizard's, as if they were the only ones in the room.

The question was received with different reactions from those seated. Bard's mouth opened a fraction, Hamar shifted in his chair and looked at his feet, Tor and Odell glanced sideways at each other while Legolas' eyes opened wider. The rest simply glared at him. Only one remained expressionless. The King sat straight in his chair, not a single movement disturbing his almost waxen features.

The question was aimed to insult and Gandalf knew very well the reason why. He almost felt pity for this reckless yet courageous young ranger. Talking about the King as if he weren't even there… Let's just hope that having brought the Queen back, Thranduil had mellowed enough to take this with a pinch of salt!

"Why did you go there?" The King's exceedingly calm voice broke the silence with one direct question which, although seemingly straightforward, there was much to be read between the lines. Arahad was young but in no way a fool. He knew very well what Thranduil was inferring at. His gaze shifted from the King to the wizard…and back again. He let out a breath which he had just realised he had been holding. These two were too old to be fooled…most probably they already knew the real reason why he had insisted so much to go to Gundabad. His mother had told him it was a gift. Yet there were many times when he felt that it was more like a curse than anything else. It was an intense feeling…a sixth sense which he always felt compelled to follow…even though he knew it would lead him to peril. But he could not help it. Every time he had to go and find out what was the reason behind it.

Being 'caught' by these two did not help to improve the foul mood he was already in. It was for this reason that he could not avert what happened next.

"My Lord, most probably he was lured to that place by imaginary treasures hidden within," mocked in disdain the sour faced elf he had noticed earlier.

Arahad's anger was channelled through the piercing gaze he gave the stunned adviser. "Then I consider myself lucky of having found a priceless gem!" The words were out of his mouth before actually thinking of the repercussions they might involve. A deafening silence filled the room. Nobody could doubt the true sentiment he felt. His heart had spoken and there was no turning back. His gaze turned to Thranduil once again but the King's look was difficult to decipher.

At this precise moment the door swung unceremoniously open and Lord Faeron came in, grinning from ear to ear. "The Queen is awake my Lord!" Barely had the words been spoken than Thranduil was out of the chair and rushing out of the room.

She sat quietly at the dressing table, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Who was that elleth looking back at her, with perfectly braided hair wearing elvish attire? She looked so different…who was she? She looked…regal, yes…yet she felt anything but! Tuarwen had suggested she wore some jewellery from the box that lay open in front of her but she had refused. Although extremely beautiful, she felt as if they belonged to another…not hers to touch or wear. Everything was strange. Nothing felt familiar.

During the little time she had spent with Faeron, he had tried to describe some instances which they had spent together, in the hope that they might shed some light in the darkness but, although she still felt that slight lingering headache, nothing was recalled. Nothing.

Head held high, she tried to be brave. She had felt no fear on the battlefield, slashing through orcs and ugly creatures, so why was she anxious now? She looked at the balcony. She almost felt like running away. She didn't want to see him. Felt too nervous to face a husband she does not know…a husband with whom she had a son…Legolas. She smiled. That haughty, courageous prince! Her son. She inhaled deeply before her smile faded as she thought about the anger she had felt when the horrendous fiend had attacked them. But she tried to remove these ugly thoughts as they threatened to make her headache worse.

She was startled by the knock on the door. "Come in!" she said steadily as she stood up.

Thranduil entered the room. On his way there Faeron had explained to him that although Valadhiel looked physically well, she still could not remember anything of her past. He had nodded, half listening, his main purpose to reach her as quickly as possible. But now he felt at a loss.

She was as beautiful as he remembered her, wearing that dress in her favourite colour. Although trying incessantly to forget her and the void she had left in his heart, he could never escape his dreams which she frequently invaded with her delightful smile and blue grey eyes. Oh sweet Arda! Was this yet another vision? His instinct told him to go and hold her in his arms but the look on her face stopped him.

No recognition. Nothing. She had no idea who he was! Her eyes, from which he had been so used to receive love and comfort, pierced his heart like a sharp blade and he clenched his fists in an attempt to ground himself.

He smiled, trying to ease the tension between them, "Valadhiel, I am glad you are feeling better."

"Thank you, my Lord. Would you like to sit down?" she said, pointing to a couch which was near the glass doors leading out to the balcony.

He nodded in agreement and went to sit down, eyes never leaving hers, almost afraid that she might vanish if he looked away. He was suddenly overcome by the same feeling he had had the first time they had looked into each other's eyes…no shyness, no averted gaze but curiosity and…courage.

He decided to break the ice by discussing a subject which he was certain she would find interesting. "You fought well on the battlefield." A simple remark which made her grin, fill her eyes with energy and warmth and continue the conversation as if they had been talking for ages. She spoke about her movements, her actions and feelings as she was facing those creatures, the anger and helplessness she felt when those fishermen came to Dale for help, the culmination of her fury when she had to fight the she orc and how she sensed and dealt with all the magic that was coming from within her.

Thranduil nodded, smiled, putting just one word here and there, urging her to continue her recount, which she shared with so much passion and enthusiasm. All he wanted right then was to keep on listening to her sweet voice but he was swiftly brought back to reality with one simple question.

"Have they gone back to Dale?"

"Who?" Although he knew very well to whom she was referring.

"Bard, Hamar, Tor, Odell and..Arahad."

He did not miss her slight hesitation before voicing the last name. What was going on? As he recalled Arahad's words and overall outburst in the council room, the smile faded from his face. Unlike him, she knew these men and, from the worried expression on her face, she was fond of them.

"Are you upset?" she asked him, concerned.

He smiled. No my dear, jealous and angry would better describe the mood I'm in right now. But he kept these thoughts to himself as he continued, "They have all been invited to stay here at the Palace."

Her broad smile at this news killed him as he could not help comparing it to the distant way she had greeted him. But his face gave nothing away. Instead he took something out of his pocket, "I brought you this."

Her eyes gleamed when she saw that in his hands he was holding the star necklace.

"Let me help you put it on."

She slowly turned, her back to him and started pulling up her golden chestnut hair. In these few moments he drank in her smell, her shoulders and long neck. It took all his strength not to give in and kiss her neck right then.

"You know," she continued, "when I could not remember my name, Arahad suggested that it should be Star, and I liked it immediately. It felt familiar."

Him again.

"Do you want to know why it sounded so?" His voice was almost a whisper, close to her ear. Thranduil brushed his fingertips gently against her neck as he closed the clasp and put the necklace in place. "Every time I had to leave the Kingdom I always told you the same words, 'You are my North Star, for you show me the way home.'"

But Valadhiel wasn't listening. She had fallen unconscious the moment itself that he had touched her.