Chapter Twenty-Seven
So it ended. Or so she thought.
Perhaps deep in her heart of hearts she knew that she could never escape her fate- she was one of the Eldar after all.
Estela dressed quietly. When she was done, she looked in the mirror.
She did not look like a warrior- she did not look as if she had known hardship, let alone loss. She didn't even look like she had ever used her hands to make the smallest of things or for fighting in her life.
Estela's mirror showed a maiden with the richest auburn hair like burnished copper, thick and curling, a thick fall to her waist. It was streaked with silver and gold which seemed more prominent than usual, a few curling strands framing her face with its pale alabaster skin and glowing cheeks. She looked as if she had been pampered all her life- rubbed and massaged with creams and oils, had her hair done daily, relaxed in jewels and constantly reclining in couches while sipping iced tea. She did not look at all like a shieldmaiden.
Is this what my life would have been like if I stayed in Valinor? She wondered. She always thought everyone would have been better off if they didn't leave, but now- even though she was not so unrealistic as to dream it- but now looking at herself, she was not so sure. Yes, she lost her family in the worst ways possible, yes she was forced to go into hiding with the survivors she rescued, but she grew strong, unspoilt and undepending upon luxury- true her parents would have never allowed her to be like that, but she thought she would have gone soft and weak, untried and unknowing of the perils of their mortal friends, until she left Valinor. And she would have taken it all for granted.
Estela stood and looked down. Her gown was something she made herself- rich and detailed, yet elegant and simple- a sheer gold thing, glittering with miniscule crystal patterns in early spring blooms and buds. It was covered with gold and cream-coloured gauze differing in various sections all glittering, the crystals casting shimmering lights and patterns when it caught the light.
She wondered if she had been too daring, now that she looked at it closely. Some places the silk ended to be completely covered with a veil of gauze.
Silly me, she thought. Foolish, silly me.
Did she even know what she was doing?
She draped her necklace of adamants and mithril around her neck, where it rested quite comfortably against her collar. The dwarves' gift- mithril mined in Khazad-dûm and delivered to Estela as a symbol of goodwill and friendship.
The other elves had been bewildered. Estela had given them rich cloths and tapestries in return.
Is this a sign of something good? She asked herself.
But they had never found the darkness. Years after she was captured and held inside that fortress, the darkness still haunted her.
It stopped her sleep, made her wake up cold.
It hounded her dreams.
The darkness crowded around her, choking her, making her gasp for breath. She couldn't even cry out. She couldn't do… anything.
It was worse than anything- worse than death. How she longed for death- the undisturbed peace of Mandos' Halls- how like Míriel Serindë she was, but she didn't care! She couldn't care about anything! She needed help, needed to get out-
She had woken up then. Estela was cold and shaking once she discovered that she was, in actuality, safe in her chambers at night.
I will never escape it, Estela thought. We may have found a place, our name redeemed, but nothing that has been done- the legacy of our deeds- will never leave.
The servant of Morgoth. Whoever that old woman was, she knew more than everyone else. Only a great evil could do such a thing.
Only a Dark Lord.
The thought chilled her, and she knew she shouldn't push it aside. But as much as Estela wanted to think further, she had to put that line of thought aside until the night was through.
And the night was through only after the High King's annual ball was.
Estela tried to restrain a heavy sigh as she placed a matching circlet with yellow diamond and adamants around her head. How long was it since she wore a princess' clothes?
Not since that fateful night when her great-grandfather died.
She would not think of that! Not now!
Estela stood up and pressed her lips while making for the door. She managed to compose herself and glided off, through the hallways, filled with suites reserved for the king's most honoured guests. She had been particularly suspicious when Ereinion had assigned her the most luxurious ones.
Maybe not suspicious, but certainly uneasy.
Estela glided off, and she arrived in the Great Hall whereupon all conversation stopped and everyone gaped.
Estela moved quietly through the crowd, while another pair of eyes watched her.
She didn't know who it was, her attention was filled with the elf upon the throne.
Ereinion Gil-Galad stared at her as if there was nothing else to see in Eä.
Estela walked up to him and curtsied low. She addressed him as Ñoldóran- King of the Noldor.
Ereinion felt his heart rise sharply and jolt almost painfully, as if in shock at the sight of her. The room was suddenly strangely void of air. He rose and took her hand, ignoring the murmurs of the courtiers.
Estela didn't dare meet his eyes at first and then she did. Her heart leapt for some strange unknown reason when her eyes met his. She felt it flutter and found it difficult to hold his gaze. Herat pounding, she looked down, and suppressed a shiver running through every inch of her body.
Ereinio's voice appeared to have left his throat when he tried to desperately find it. But he managed a smooth, "Thank you for coming, princess."
"Thank you for inviting me, my king." She hid her uneasiness at being called 'Princess'. In fact, she often forgot she was one. She never forgot her family were kings and princes, but she always thought of herself as a shieldmaiden.
Ereinion tried to find something to say, unable to even think about tearing his eyes off her, when Estela's landed upon the form of a young being.
One would think he was an elf, but he was certainly more than that, as much as Estela herself could be considered human. He radiated with so much power and energy, and light seemed to strongly emanated from every inch of his form. Yet his ears were pointed and he was taller than most men. His hair was long and fair- so fair, it seemed to be light itself, the way it gleamed and shone. He smiled at her, and she was astonished to see him.
This being was more than she imagined.
Ereinion saw Estela's eyes move towards their new visitor and if he had been smiling (he truly was unaware) the smile would have been smacked off his face.
Something flared up in him so high that he felt immediately stunned to feel such a thing. Was it discomfort?
No, he never felt discomforted.
It was jealousy.
The hand that still clutched Estela's tightened around hers.
He forced a smile.
"My lord," he said coolly. He turned to the vsitor. "This is the shieldmaiden everyone talks about."
"And the spectacular craftsperson, I presume?" The stranger's voice was rich and smooth yet... was their strength of a foreign, alien kind? Something almost rough, but not when she checked it over.
Ereinion's eyes were cold. "Yes." He gritted his teeth.
Estela was captivated by this stranger. There was something... something about him.
Ereinion tried desperately to turn Estela's attention towards him. That being had done enough damage already! Or was about to in any case.
"I was hoping you would join me, for a stroll outside." He smiled. "I fear the air is far too warm in here."
Estela blinked. "Yes," she agreed with him.
They left hand in hand.
Estela welcomed the cool air as its freshness hit her. She smiled, for the first time without restraint at Ereinion, grateful as she was.
He smiled but there was something else in his eyes. was the High King nervous? Surely not, given his reputation to keep a cool and level head during the most terrible of situations, including battles.
"It's a beautiful night," she said serenely.
He gazed at her. His dark blue eyes shone bright. "Yes."
She looked down. "I hoped you would come, but I wasn't sure." He admitted.
She gave a smile. "After everything you've done, how could I not?"
He tried to restrain a sigh. "What occupies you?" He asked. "Daily? What do you do apart from your crafts and practising your skills in combat?"
She looked down. "Nothing much apart from interacting and being friendly with everyone I meet. I wanted to see people from everywhere. I've been in hiding for so long. And you are right, I haven't lived."
Ereinion looked at her. "Yes," he breathed softly.
His heart rose, and he never wanted to let go of her hand. He held it all this time. Estela seemed to suddenly realise that, but for some reason she didn't pull away.
"I-" she wasn't sure which one of them spoke, but Ereinion seemed to be in a rush- unseemly and uncharacteristic as it was- when he spoke next.
"I wanted to speak to you, to see you," he said. Did he sound desperate?
"I didn't know how long it would be until I next saw you, and since these are no longer times of war, I wasn't sure I ever would, not until you settled permanently in Eregion."
She stood still and silent.
He took a deep breath. "I confess... my motives were not entirely kingly, unselfish and unbiased in allowing you to stay. I..." He found the confidence to go on. "I wanted you to stay. Even if it costed me my crown. Yes, I felt for your kinsmen and followers. Yes I wanted desperately to help them, but I..." He trailed off. He was desperate.
"I didn't want you to leave," he whispered. They now realise he was holding her close- close enough for their faces to touch... or their lips. When that happened, she no longer found herself in any mood to find out rather than accept it.
Her lush rosebud lips were slightly parted and she was breathing in small gasps. Of all things!
Since when did this happen? Since when did any male, elf or man affect her as much as the High King?
This was the High King! But she could not find it in her to remember that. Or care. No matter how desperate she wanted to. In fact, she no longer found herself caring for anything, except the moment that was occurring then.
He was holding her too close. And she was growing too warm, too uncomfortable. And yet it wasn't boiling hot.
Suddenly the air didn't seem so cool any more. Just the thought of that made her blush.
She couldn't contain that. No matter how poised. She would find it laughable and appalling, that she, a shieldmaiden, would...
She would not go down that line of thought. She tried to speak, to say something.
But as she opened her mouth, she could have gasped in astonishment.
His lips found hers, and he kissed her and held her firm the way she never thought he could.
As if he would never let go.
And Estela, losing all reason and ability to think, completely unlike what she was known for, kissed him back and clutched his strong shoulders.
She didn't know how long they stood there, and she felt him groan when she began to kiss him back. He pulled her closer as if that were possible, like he wanted to absorb her, to become one with her.
She couldn't stop. Neither could he.
He tilted her head and kissed deeper.
She kept going, not thinking, until her mind somehow began to wander.
She had flashes as if memories in her mind. Her cousin in his forge, the happy memories. The laughing. Ereinion calling out to her when she was incapacitated- held down by the darkness. His voice, his strong arms and warm hands.
His smile. The way his blue eyes burned.
And she remembered all the happy lives couples had, hand in hand with each other. She remembered the laughter and love between her parents, how affectionate they were. The closeness of her grandparents, how her grandfather's piercing gaze would soften when he looked upon his wife.
No wonder they thought it was joy. Because it was.
Her grandfather.
Suddenly her mind came back to another moment. she saw the flames of Losgar rise up and engulf the ships with her uncle in it. She saw the shadowy figure of Námo, Judge of the dead and Doomsman of the Valar, as he arrived, and the words he proclaimed to her kin:
Tears unnumbered shall you shed, Námo had said. The Valar shall fence Valinor against you. On the House of Fëanáro shall the Doom of the Valar be placed...
Her eyes flew open, without knowing they were even closed. Ereinion groaned and kissed deeper, pulling her, if it was possible, even closer.
... slain may you be, and slain you shall be... the voice of the Lord of Mandos seemed to whisper in the air around them.
She gave a gasp and pushed him away as suddenly and as quickly as she could.
He was startled into shock and she pushed him and simultaneously pulled herself away until five feet stood between them.
He was breathing in pants. The kiss seemed to have burned deeper than his soul and heart and yet...
She pushed him away. Hurt and yes, anger, rose up inside him but vanished when he caught sight of her expression.
"Estela?"
She was not looking at him. Her eyes were on the ground, yet seemed fixed in a panic, unseeing anything. Her hands clutched the sides of her head as if she feared she was going mad.
"Estela!"
He tried to move towards her, but in a flash she sped away. She raced as far and fast as she could, her skirts shimmering in the moonlight and starlight.
"Estela!"
And as panic engulfed the shieldmaiden, she wondered if she had done something irreversible and dread and horror rose within her.
What have I done?
Ereinion was desperate to find her. He worried and cursed that he might have been too forward with her.
What had he done?
Desperation rose up within him and agony. He had to find her, where in Arda was she?!
Unbeknownst to him, Estela sat on a stone bench, clutching her sides, breathing in shallow gasps, rocking back and forth.
"Stupid me," she cursed. "Stupid, silly me. Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid girl!" She slammed her fists on the sides of her head, not pausing in her rocking.
What had she done? What had she brought upon Ereinion's head? She knew he would never quit pursuing her now, not now she had stupidly, carelessly, unknowingly kissed him back and made her feelings known.
Did she have feelings? She gasped at the thought.
She heard Mandos' words. The irrevocable Doom. The House of Fëanáro. Her House. Her blood. And all who were assembled there, were cursed- including her.
What had she done? She who lost everyone- or nearly everyone she had ever loved... How could she have possibly allowed her heart to open up again an risk Ereinion's life- his life, of all people!
She had to get away. She had to get far away.
Not too far away, in fact, not far at all, Ereinion was forced to go back inside- one of his councillors did that. He cursed inwardly and groaned, and knew that he would not sleep easy tonight once this was through.
Estela shook slightly and someone neared asking, "May I be of assistance, my lady?"
She looked up sharply. There stood the stranger from earlier, before- she cursed herself for doing that once more- her walk with Ereinion.
He smiled at her.
"There is no need," she said formally. She rose. "But thank you, nonetheless. My lord..." she trailed off. She never learned the man's name.
He smiled. "They call me Annatar, my lady."
Aha! Yes, I know, it's been a really long wait, but I had my exams! Are you satisfied with that kiss? Although if you were hoping for drama, or are sick of it, you clearly must know who Annatar is!
Oh, boy. What will happen? Whether its romance or something else- something exciting- things are bound to get crazy there. But don't worry, they'll have moments of peace and get on with things.
Warning: I can't make any promises though!