Chapter 53

Next in Line

In her dream, she was lost in the forest—a great beech forest. On her left was a narrow river. The air was fresh and heavy with the scent of flowers, and on the branches of the trees were small nightingales with brown and white plumage, except for the blue patch on their throats. The forest was alive with their songs. Grass was all over the area, tall blades of grass reaching her knees. When she looked up, she saw the shafts of sunlight poking through the thick leaves. The trees pressed close now, shutting off the light, and in the darkness she saw someone moving towards her.

A Marchwarden approached her, who carried a white bow in hand. His grey eyes looked directly into hers, kind and solemn. As he walked, his silver hair glinted like moonlight, and his soft, smiling face regarded her with warmth. She felt drawn to him, for some strange reason, and could not help but walk towards the warden, her own grey eyes locked with his. He held out his hand for her, still smiling. When she touched his hand and gazed closer to his face, she was surprised that he looked almost exactly like her. She stumbled a little, shocked and unsure, and the silver-haired warden caught her just in time. He bent down and whispered in her ear, "Welcome to the Forest, penneth."

Erynlith woke up with a start. She immediately sat up on the bed, her pillows and blanket scattered all over her body. For a moment she was more confused to see the white walls of her room, the bedside table and round window on her left. She blinked and looked around, watching quietly as the early morning light danced on the floor of her chamber. Her hand went to her head, remembering the painful sensation when the young warg tackled her to the ground, and felt bandages wrapped around her forehead. Did she get injured? She did not remember. Both her hands were covered in bandages; when she tossed the blanket aside, it was a relief not one leg was broken.

As though on cue, someone entered the room.

The same dark golden-haired attendant came and brought a silver tray. She bowed and made her way towards the bedside table, where she laid out clean bandages and a bowl of soup. "Good morning, Erfaron," she said.

"Yes, um, what happened?"

"You have been sleeping for more than a day."

She shook her head. "How did I get here?"

The attendant laughed softly. "One of the marchwardens found you in the Old Ford and said you were unconscious. He and Lady Nimrodel came all the way from Greenwood and carried you from the Old Ford to here, in Lórinand. You were so brave, Erfaron. Haldir told us you brought down a warg all alone." She finished stacking the bandages. "King Amroth was most worried that he ordered the splinter on his leg to be removed so that he could see you."

"He did?" Erynlith could not believe what she was hearing. She sent Haldir to Greenwood so that he and Nimrodel could be comfortable when they travelled back; in the end, it was her who became the burden and had to be carried across miles of fields because she entertained a warg and fell unconscious. "Where are they now?"

"King Amroth has resumed running the kingdom. He orders that you get more rest, Erfaron."

Feeling her head thump painfully again, Erynlith was more than happy to get more sleep and dream about the silver-haired marchwarden with a bow.

The Elvenking drew a deep breath. He clutched the silver railing that curled on a great tree. His knuckles whitened from his firm grip. Was he ready for this? Shaking his head, the golden-haired Sindarin King ascended the flet. He found his beloved curled on her bed, trembling in her great fear. Amroth worried that Nimrodel might fade this way; her relentless fear for the unknown had risen drastically since she left the forest and went to Greenwood. She thought Lórinand became more vulnerable and wished for Amroth to take her away.

But how could he leave his people?

"Nimrodel," Amroth called out softly, sitting on the edge of the bed. He reached out for her and rubbed her shoulder. "Nimrodel, all is well, beloved. Do not fear anymore."

The lady turned to him, her face pale and her lips quivering. She quickly embraced him, burying her face in Amroth's green robe. She began to sob, clutching on to him as though her life depended on it. And the King kissed her forehead and held her tightly. Finally, Nimrodel looked up and kissed her beloved on his lips.

"Tell me what ails you," Amroth said after their lips parted. When she was about to give a long rant in Silvan, the King interjected: "In Westron, meleth."

Nimrodel inhaled sharply and simply said, "I want to leave."

"Leave?" Amroth repeated incredulously. "Where to, beloved? Do you wish to visit Rivendell or Greenwood?"

"No." Nimrodel shook her head fervently, golden locks swaying about her pale shoulders. She grasped the King's hand and looked deeply into his grey eyes. "Leave… Middle-earth... where life is safe…"

Amroth knew the conversation would lead there. What was he to do? Would he leave Middle-earth for Nimrodel? Or lose her and continue to be king? The weight of the crown that rested upon his head was not his choice, as it was to Thranduil. Both became kings after their losses, and Amroth would not be the first to give his crown up.

"But Nimrodel, please listen. I can protect you, you and our people. I can protect the forest in another thousand years. No more orcs will come to us. I have given you the flet that you wanted. Why must you ask to leave Middle-earth? Please, my love. Stay here with me."

"But I cannot wait," she whispered.

Amroth scooted closer to her. "Marry me," he said softly, well-knowing that it was not the right time to propose to her. But like her, he was restless. If he should continue to be King of Lórinand, he would need a queen, and Nimrodel was all he could ever think of.

"No." Her answer was stern and simple. "I will not."

He could feel his heart crushing with each passing second. "W-Why not, meleth?"

Tears stung her eyes. "Please, just take me away from the world."

Nimrodel moved to stand up but her wrists were pulled gently by the King. Amroth pulled her back on the bed, tears welling in the corners of his grey eyes. Instantly, she felt sorry for the rejection. She loved Amroth very much; he was all she could ever ask for. Her heart melted as the first tear fell from his cheeks, and she wiped the tear away. Nimrodel leaned and kissed him softly on the lips, which was eagerly returned by the passionate King.

"Please…" Amroth pleaded quietly, kissing her palm. "Tell me what it would take for you to marry me and it shall be done, my love."

"I already told you," Nimrodel answered stubbornly. "I wish for you to take me in a land of peace. Once we have left, I will marry you, my King." She kissed him again.

"Do you promise that?"

"I will hold on to that." She smiled sweetly at him. "All my promises I hold dear and close to my heart. My greatest wish is to be safe with you, my love. Will you grant me that wish?"

Amroth was reluctant. Marrying her would mean the loss of his kingdom, his father's kingdom. Was he ready to give up on that for her? Nimrodel was his first and definitely his last love; there was no backing out now. A few moments later, he finally nodded and kissed her passionately.

"I will take you to a land of peace," Amroth promised. "But what will become of Lórinand after we left?"

Nimrodel thought for a while, and then said, "Leave the leadership to Erfaron. You are cousins, are you not? She has the right to inherit your father's forest as you are family."

"She is not the one for leadership, meleth." Amroth had always worried that it would come to that. He knew the next to the throne would no one except his younger cousin—the minstrel from Rivendell who once rejected the Prince of Greenwood and who had experience in ruling a kingdom next to zero. Erynlith would be furious with him, and then confusion would come after. He did not know how to handle that; but for his love for Nimrodel, everything could happen.

"Do not worry. I will explain to the others, and I am marrying you."

Nimrodel smiled. "I look forward to that."

It was late in the afternoon when Erynlith woke up again. This time, she removed the bandages around her forehead and hands, saw the little scratches the warg made in her palms, and did not give it too much attention. She showered and washed her hair, removing the mud, and then went out to dress herself in an old cream gown that King Amdír had given so long ago. She lingered on the flet for a while, leaning against the silver railing and looking down on the courtyard. When she felt her stomach grumble, she gave in and headed to the kitchens.

Everyone in the kitchens stopped what they were doing, and bowed at once.

"Oh, good afternoon, my Lady."

Erynlith blinked at them and decided to ignore their formal tone. "Ah, good afternoon, tra-la. Do you have something for me to eat?"

"Yes! Please wait for a while!" The female elf who led the kitchens whirled around and snatched something from the cupboards, took a freshly-baked pie and a bottle of wine. She wiped her hands on her white apron and presented the meal to her.

"T-Thank you...?" Erynlith accepted the meal and looked around, observing everyone looked tensed to have her inside. She looked back at the leader and murmured, "I was thinking of an apple or two, but thank you very much for this." She smiled and went out, still flabbergasted.

She carried her food and went all the way towards the intersecting rivers, where the barracks were. Most of the wardens were gone to patrol the forest, and only few remained to guard the fortress. Erynlith smiled and waved a hand at them, but the wardens only saluted to her and went on. Her hand went limp to her side. Did I do something wrong? She cradled her food between her arms and climbed the winding staircase. No one seemed to notice her presence, which prompted her to approach anyone who looked familiar.

Orgilion was not there, it was very plain to see. He was the tallest elf in Lórinand, and perhaps even taller than Glorfindel; thinking about her golden-haired friend made her want to return to Rivendell. When Erynlith found the familiar pair of brothers, she sprinted.

"Rúmil," she called cheerfully, waving him over. "Orophin!"

The brothers turned to her. Unlike a few days ago, when they grinned and talked to her enthusiastically, Orophin and Rúmil were only silent and bowed to her. Erynlith thought it was strange that no one was talking to her. Now, she was more confused when none of the two brothers went forward to talk or ask her questions.

"Is something the matter? Am I missing something here?"

"No problem at all, my Lady," Orophin answered, bowing again.

"Is there something you would like us to help you with?" Rúmil cocked his head to the side, looking curious, though he made no attempt to approach her.

"Yes!" Erynlith gestured to the food in her arms. "Could you help me eat all this? Someone from the kitchens gave me too much to eat, tra-lay."

The two Silvan elves glanced doubtfully at each other. The smile on Erynlith's face faltered. Something was definitely wrong.

"We cannot do so, my Lady," Rúmil told her solemnly. "We have orders to return to the northern borders and keep watch if any of the dwarves harm us again."

"Can I come?" She looked at them hopefully, the food all forgotten.

Orophin shook his head and frowned a little. "I am sorry, my Lady. You have just returned from the Old Ford and you need to get some rest. It would be best if you return to the palace now."

She cast her eyes on the ground. "Oh, of course. You two be careful while patrolling." Then, with a heavy heart, she turned around and left the barracks.

After a while of silence, the brothers looked again at each other and sighed. It was hard to refuse someone without showing emotions. Their older brother Haldir was good at masking emotions; it was easy for him to look so intimidating and commanding if he needed, and to smile if he wanted. Right now, Haldir was stationed by the Chief Marchwarden to keep watch in the southern borders, in case wargs or orcs come in sight.

At length, Orophin raked his fingers through his silver-gold hair. "Do you think she's going to be okay?"

Rúmil shrugged. "I hope so. I really wanted to ask Erfaron about what happened the other night with the warg."

"Hush!" Orophin sharply whispered and pulled his younger brother elsewhere. "From now on, we cannot call her that. King Amroth has given orders, remember?"

"Oh right. I'll keep that in mind."

In the night, there was a huge feast set in the courtyard. Despite the bustling commotion in the heart of the forest, Amroth had pulled his cousin away from the festivities and into the darkness. They stood in silence beside the river that was Nimrodel's home. Erynlith thought the King looked pale and restless.

"Are you alright, Amroth?" She questioned, pulling her grey cloak closer. The wind was cold and rather strong tonight. "Did something happen and you want to talk about it?"

The King blinked and cleared his throat. He wanted to open up everything to the family he had left. Perhaps she would understand, right? She was family after all.

"You see, Eryn, I have a confession to make…" Amroth drawled out, unable to think of the right words he wanted.

Instantly, Erynlith was alarmed and stepped closer. She reached out for the King's hand and held it firmly. She smiled at him, silently telling him that everything would be well. But deep inside, she feared what he was to tell her. Did it have something to do with everyone's aversion to her that afternoon? Her grip on his hand tightened just as Amroth sighed in defeat.

Her cousin met her eyes again, those grey eyes that were akin to him.

"Eryn, Nimrodel and I have plighted our troth, but there is one big problem…"

Next Chapter: A journey to the Havens.

Author's Notes: Welp, this is a short chapter (like the last one). I really had a very busy week and I did not have enough time to edit the draft and add more stuff. Here we finally have Amroth's decision to leave his kingdom out of love for n̶i̶n̶n̶y̶ Nimrodel, but as all rushed decisions often go, there is someone who gets stuck in between: Erynlith.

Currently, I am out of town and just updating this chapter through mobile. It's quite difficult so I'll keep this short. I promise to do better next time!

By the way, I published a new series of drabbles about Eryn's childhood with Erestor. So for those who are looking for random misadventures of little elflings and exasperated captains, you could read this. ;)

*Rosiethehobbit17 - Yes, Thrandy might get off his royal ass now that he knows Eryn is in Lorinand. Oohh, planning weddings and morning sickness?! Sounds interesting! Tell me more, Rosie (if you don't my asking :D).

*melodicechoes - The suspense would end soon, I assure you! :)

*xSiriuslyPadfoot - Thank you! I patterned ninny Nimrodel's character from what little description Tolkien mentioned. She really doesn't like all these strangers going in and out of her home, so I visualized her as someone naturally insecure of her surroundings.

*SirAvery - Welcome! Thank you very much for your kind review! Indeed, for someone who reads and writes a lot, your wordwould be taken as a compliment and motivation from now on. Thank you for putting up with Eryn's antics and Thranduil's mood swings throughout these chapters. You're right about Eryn and Glorfindel being dependent on each other, especially Glorfindel. Perhaps the greatest challenge for both of them would be to handle Thranduil. But we'll get there soon. Again, thanks for the wonderful review!

*Lord Illyren - Nope, this time it's Amroth and Nimrodel doing something foolish. Eryn just happens to be stuck between them.

*Overlord Rousdower - Oh noooo, the fuzzy wuzzy warg! :'(

*Drasna - So close, yet so far away!

*Saura9 - Haldir is just really a big teddy bear in an elf body! I bet he's huggable!

*Flucas - If Glorfindel walks in on them, Thranduil's definitely not going to appreciate it! The fourth kinslaying might start. XD

*May - Worry not; I am not putting Glorfindel out of the picture just yet. I would love to make more fluffy chapters about Eryn and Glorfy.

*Zip001 - I think Thrandy was in an incredibly good mood because he knows Eryn was within his reach, especially now that he's met Haldir. Now he's just waiting for the opportunity to make a move. Celairis won't like him for that, I'm sure.