The morning sun cast a warm glow over the halls of the palace as Aurora made her way downstairs towards the dining hall. Her footsteps echoed softly in the corridors, the sense of anticipation growing within her as she wondered what awaited her at breakfast. As she entered the hall, her gaze was immediately drawn to Maeglin, who sat at the table, his usual black robe conspicuously absent.
Instead, Maeglin was clad in a striking black armor, adorned with intricate patterns and designs that spoke of Elven craftsmanship. A thick cloak flowed down his back, adding an air of regality to his form. A golden circlet adorned his brow, a symbol of his princely status. Aurora couldn't help but feel a rush of surprise and admiration at his transformation. He looked every bit the warrior and prince he was destined to be.
Maeglin's gaze met hers as she approached her seat, his expression as composed as ever. "Good morning," he greeted in his deep, resonant voice.
Aurora offered a small smile in return, her curiosity evident in her eyes. "Good morning, Prince Maeglin."
As she settled into her seat, she couldn't shake the feeling that there was something significant about his change in attire. The unasked question danced on her lips, but she restrained herself, not wanting to intrude on his privacy.
"Did you sleep well last night?" Maeglin inquired, his tone softening slightly as he engaged her in conversation.
Aurora nodded, finding his concern endearing. "Yes, thank you. How about you?"
Before he could answer, he seemed to sense her unspoken query. With a slight inclination of his head, he spoke, "I will be leaving the city for a few months."
Aurora's brows furrowed slightly, a mixture of surprise and concern coloring her features. "Oh... um, why?"
Maeglin's gaze held a mixture of resolve and duty. "The king has ordered me to inspect a newly discovered cave in the mountains. It's said to be rich in iron ore, a resource that could prove valuable for Gondolin's defenses."
Aurora nodded, absorbing the information. Her mind quickly processed the implications of his departure. He was a prince with duties beyond the palace walls, responsibilities that stretched to the far reaches of their realm. Despite the brief time they had spent together, his absence left an unexpected sense of emptiness.
"Today?" Aurora's voice held a hint of surprise, realizing the suddenness of his departure.
Maeglin nodded, his gaze holding a trace of something she couldn't quite decipher. "Yes, I will be departing shortly. It's a journey that cannot be delayed."
Their conversation flowed on, punctuated by the clinking of cutlery and the gentle ambiance of the hall. Aurora listened as Maeglin described the preparations for his journey, the challenges that lay ahead, and his hopes for the outcome. She found herself captivated by his words, the way he spoke with a mix of determination and vulnerability that she hadn't seen before.
After they finished their breakfast, Maeglin rose from his chair, and with a nod to Aurora, he gestured for her to follow him into the foyer. There, the maids and palace workers had already gathered, forming two neat lines beside the grand front door. The sight of armored guards and horses stationed outside added to the solemnity of the moment.
Aurora took her place beside Eledhwen, who offered her a reassuring smile. Her eyes flitted between Maeglin, who was engaged in a final discussion with another elf, and the assembled palace staff. The atmosphere was tinged with a sense of anticipation and duty.
As Maeglin turned to address those who had gathered, his voice resonated with authority. "I will be abroad for quite some time," he announced. His eyes swept over the assembled group, his gaze lingering on Aurora. "I trust that each of you will continue your work here faithfully and look after my ward, Aurora, in my absence."
The assembled staff bowed respectfully, their voices ringing in unison, "Yes, my prince."
With a final nod of acknowledgment, Maeglin turned away from the gathered assembly. His eyes met Aurora's, and she couldn't help but offer him a small, encouraging smile. "Safe travels, my prince," she murmured.
Maeglin inclined his head in response, his features retaining their customary stoicism. With that, he walked purposefully toward the grand front doors, where his guards were waiting alongside their horses. He mounted his steed gracefully, taking the lead position, and the contingent of guards followed closely behind.
Aurora watched from the doorway, her heart feeling heavy as she bid farewell to the prince. Eledhwen, noticing her dejected demeanor, placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. With a reassuring smile, she spoke softly, "A few months is not long, dear. He'll be back before you know it."
Aurora managed a sweet smile, masking her inner sadness. "I'm sure the prince will return safely."
Eledhwen nodded in agreement. "Of course, don't you worry about him. He's resourceful and skilled. Now, do you want to go to Galion's home? It might help take your mind off things."
Aurora fell into contemplative silence for a moment, her gaze distant as she considered Eledhwen's suggestion. Finally, she shook her head. "No, I think I'll stay at the palace today."
Eledhwen nodded understandingly and excused herself to return to the kitchen. Aurora, now left alone, decided to head back to her room. Her footsteps echoed through the grand hallway, a haunting reminder of her solitude.
In her room, she sat on a plush chair, her expression blank. She didn't feel like visiting Galion and Elanor's home, not today, at least. Her moodiness intensified as she thought about Maeglin's sudden departure. She cast her gaze around the room, searching for something to occupy her time while he was away.
The idea to explore the library suddenly occurred to her. She knew Maeglin had a vast library, one she had never ventured into before. It seemed like the perfect opportunity to distract herself and perhaps learn something new. With newfound determination, she rose from her chair and set off on her adventure to the library.
Her footsteps echoed softly as she made her way through the palace, following the directions to the library. The grandiose doors to the library loomed ahead, ornate and inviting. As she pushed them open, the room revealed itself to be a vast sanctuary of knowledge. Shelves upon shelves of ancient tomes and scrolls lined the walls, their spines worn with age.
Aurora stepped into the library, where the scent of ancient books and parchment filled the air. Rows upon rows of tall shelves stretched out before her, laden with countless volumes. It felt as though she was embarking on a new adventure, one filled with the promise of discovery. The excitement began to stir within her as she navigated the labyrinth of knowledge.
Her fingers brushed along the spines of the books, feeling the slightly rough texture of their bindings. She plucked one book from its resting place and gazed at the title, but the words were unfamiliar, not written in Sindarin, the language she knew well. This book was adorned with characters from a language foreign to her.
With a hint of frustration, she returned the book to its shelf and reached for another, hoping to decipher its contents. However, once again, the script eluded her comprehension. This time, she suspected that it might be another Elvish language, one she had never encountered before.
Aurora furrowed her brow, pondering the possibility. "Is this some ancient Elvish dialect, or perhaps a script from a different realm altogether?" she mused to herself. Attempting another book, she found herself facing the same language barrier. A soft hum of frustration escaped her lips as she persisted, determined to discover something she could read.
Her perseverance paid off when, after navigating through the shelves, she stumbled upon a section of books written in Sindarin. A triumphant smile played on her lips as she scanned the titles. One book in particular caught her eye – "Of Our Histories." Aurora seized the book, her excitement bubbling as she sought out a quiet spot to indulge in her newfound literary discovery.
Near a large window adorned with intricate patterns, she found an ornate table. Seating herself with the book in hand, she gazed out at the enchanting view beyond the glass. The sunlight filtered through the leaves of ancient trees, casting a warm glow on the pages before her.
As Aurora turned the first page, she found herself captivated by the sweeping tales of Arda. The narrative unfolded before her, taking her on a journey from the very beginning of the world to the rebellion of Melkor. The weight of the history sent shivers down her spine, even though she had been familiar with Melkor's deeds from her lessons with Galion. Reading it alone, immersed in the written words, brought an entirely new depth to the experience.
She continued through the pages, tracing the first awakening of the Elves and their journey to Valinor. The narrative unfolded, revealing the intricate web of relationships within the House of Finwë, Feanor's bitter jealousy that sparked the Kin-strife, the creation of the three Silmarils, and Melkor's treacherous theft of these precious jewels. Aurora sighed sadly as she delved into the tragic events that followed – the rebellion of the Noldor, the First Kinslaying, and their sorrowful return to Beleriand.
Her emotions swirled as she read about the burning of the ships by Fëanor, an act that left Fingolfin and his followers with no choice but to cross the grinding ice to reach Beleriand. Aurora shook her head in disbelief at Fëanor's actions, his obsession with the Silmarils blinding him to the suffering of his own kin. As she read about the many Elves who perished on the ice, including Turgon's wife, a sense of disdain for Fëanor began to creep into her heart.
"How could he be so cruel?" she murmured to herself, the words escaping her lips unconsciously. The more she delved into the intricate tales of betrayal and tragedy, the stronger her dislike for Fëanor grew.
For hours, Aurora remained seated in the library, engrossed in the ancient tales of Arda. The room was cloaked in a serene silence, broken only by the occasional creaking of the wooden shelves and the soft rustle of pages turning. The sun had shifted in the sky, casting a warm glow through the windows as she continued to read, losing herself in the intricacies of Elven history.
As she delved into the chapter on "Dagor Bragollach," her eyes caught a passage about Aegnor, and she paused. The words resonated with her, telling a poignant story of love and sorrow. She read the passage again:
"His death brought sorrow to Andreth, a wise woman of the Edain, for she loved him, and he loved her in return. But the union of Elves and Men are unheard of, and Elves do not marry during war."
Aurora's mind raced, and in that moment, the narrative transcended the confines of the parchment, resonating with her own internal conflicts. Thoughts of Maeglin, the elf she had secretly harbored a crush on, flooded her consciousness. The pang in her heart was both familiar and unwelcome. She shook her head, trying to dispel the intrusive thoughts.
"It's just a crush," she whispered to herself, as if to convince her heart of a truth it didn't want to accept. "He would never feel the same way. And he would never want to spend his life with a human."
She recognized the impossibility of a romantic union between an Elf and a human. The inherent differences in their lifespans and the societal norms that governed their worlds weighed heavily on her. With a resigned shake of her head, she acknowledged that Maeglin could never reciprocate her feelings in the same way.
"It's just a foolish dream," she mumbled, trying to relegate her emotions to the recesses of her mind.
The realization struck her like a cold gust of wind, and the glow of the library seemed to dim as she grappled with the melancholy settling in her chest. The stories of love and loss within the pages mirrored the tumultuous emotions within her own heart.
Suddenly, the enchantment of the library lost its allure, and Aurora found herself staring blankly at the chair in front of her. Her mind wandered to distant thoughts, contemplating the vast chasm that seemed to separate her from Maeglin. After a moment of introspection, she closed the book with a gentle thud, the echo resonating in the stillness of the library.
With a heavy heart, Aurora decided to leave the cocoon of ancient tales and seek solace in more immediate comforts. Pushing back her chair, she rose gracefully and made her way out of the library, the echo of her footsteps the only sound in the silent space. Her destination: the warmth of the kitchen, where the food awaited her.
The late afternoon sun cast long shadows through the vast dining hall as Aurora finished her solitary lunch. The echoes of her utensils against the plate reverberated in the emptiness, creating a stark contrast to the grandeur of the surroundings. The air seemed heavy with a sense of loneliness that lingered around her.
With a sigh, Aurora contemplated her next move. The idea of retreating to the solitude of her room crossed her mind. The thought of another quiet meal in the emptiness of her own space felt like a refuge from the echoing hollowness of the dining hall. After a final gulp of her drink, she pushed back her chair, the scraping sound against the polished floor adding to the stillness of the room.
As she stood, uncertainty gripped her. Her mind raced through possibilities. Visiting Galion and Elanor surfaced as an option, but a sudden reluctance held her back. She pondered the idea, wondering if she had already imposed on their hospitality enough for the day. "I should give them a break," she mused to herself, a twinge of guilt settling in her thoughts.
Aurora took a step away from the dining table, the cold air of the palace enveloping her. The grandeur of the surroundings seemed to amplify the solitude that clung to her, making her feel smaller in the vastness of the palace. Her footsteps echoed through the corridors as she made her way out of the dining hall, the heavy wooden doors closing behind her with a soft thud.
The palace, once a place of splendor and activity, now seemed eerily quiet. Aurora walked through the corridors, contemplating her next move. The grand tapestries on the walls depicted scenes of battles and triumphs, but their silent presence only accentuated the hollowness that lingered within her.
As she wandered through the palace, she noticed the play of sunlight filtering through the stained glass windows, casting colorful patterns on the marble floor. The beauty of the surroundings failed to dispel the sense of isolation that gnawed at her. She needed a respite from the solitude, a distraction from the echoing emptiness that seemed to follow her footsteps.
Aurora's eyes brightened as she spotted Eledhwen across the hallway, carrying a bundle of sheets. A mischievous smile played on her lips as an idea sparked in her mind. She approached Eledhwen quietly, ready to surprise her. However, before Aurora could utter a word, Eledhwen turned around with a sly smile, greeting her, "Is there anything I can help you with, Aurora?"
Aurora raised an eyebrow, a mix of surprise and amusement on her face. "How did you know it was me?" she inquired, genuinely curious.
Eledhwen smirked, her eyes glinting with playful mirth. "Elves have keen senses," she replied. "I can hear your footsteps from afar."
Aurora chuckled, shaking her head. "Elves are so lucky," she remarked with a hint of envy in her tone.
Eledhwen shared a knowing look with her and then explained that she was on her way to change sheets in every room. She then turned the question back to Aurora, asking if she needed anything. Aurora's smile widened, and she replied, "Nothing, I'm just bored. Can I help you with your task?"
Eledhwen raised an eyebrow, a flicker of amusement dancing in her eyes. "You want to help me with the chores?" she asked, slightly incredulous.
Aurora nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, I don't have anything else to do anyway, besides eat and sleep. I don't want to turn into a potato in the future."
Eledhwen tilted her head, a quizzical expression on her face. "Why would you turn into a potato?" she asked, clearly puzzled.
Aurora burst into laughter at Eledhwen's confusion. "It's just a saying," she explained between giggles. "Never mind. Now, let's go," she added, playfully ushering Eledhwen forward.
Aurora followed Eledhwen up the sweeping staircase, sheets in her hands, their footsteps echoing through the regal hall. They turned left, traversing a hallway adorned with tapestries and soft sunlight filtering through the windows. Their journey led them to the door at the end of the hall, where Eledhwen came to a stop.
Eledhwen turned to Aurora and handed her the bundle of sheets. "Hold these for me," she instructed. Aurora took the sheets, watching curiously as Eledhwen produced a bunch of keys. Fumbling through the collection, Eledhwen selected a key, its intricate design catching the light. With practiced ease, she inserted the key into the lock, turned it, and with a satisfying click, the door swung open.
Entering the room, Aurora glanced around, taking in the elegant furnishings and the soft glow that bathed the space. Eledhwen directed Aurora to a chair near the window. "You can place the sheets on that chair over there," she instructed.
Aurora approached the chair, carefully laying the bundles of sheets atop it. Turning back to Eledhwen, she questioned, "What now?"
Eledhwen, standing by the bed, motioned toward it with a subtle grace. "Now, you will help me change the sheets."
Aurora nodded, a sense of purpose settling in. Approaching the bed, Aurora positioned herself at the opposite end from Eledhwen. Together, they began the task of removing the old sheets. Their movements were synchronized, a silent dance of efficiency as they worked in tandem. The air was filled with the rustle of fabric and the occasional clink of keys as Eledhwen set them aside.
As they unfolded the fresh sheets, the room seemed to transform, becoming a canvas for renewal. The bed, once adorned with worn linens, now awaited the touch of clean, crisp sheets. The sunlight filtering through the window cast a warm glow on the scene, creating an atmosphere of quiet industry.
As they smoothed out the freshly cleaned sheets, Aurora couldn't help but quell her curiosity. "Is there anyone living in this room?" she asked, her eyes scanning the unoccupied space.
Eledhwen shook her head. "No one resides here," she replied, tucking a corner of the sheet neatly. Aurora's brow furrowed in confusion, prompting her to inquire further, "Then why do we need to change the sheets if no one lives here?"
Eledhwen chuckled, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "It's the prince's orders. All sheets need to be changed every three days in every room. I'm just following his instructions."
Aurora snorted in disbelief. "Didn't know the prince to be a clean freak," she remarked, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
Eledhwen's eyes widened at Aurora's choice of words. "What did you just call him?" she asked, a hint of disbelief in her voice.
Aurora giggled and leaned in, whispering, "Clean freak."
Eledhwen shook her head in mock disbelief. "If he were to hear us now, we'd both be in trouble," she warned, her tone conspiratorial.
Aurora burst into laughter, dismissing the notion. "Well, luckily, he's not here."
Eledhwen smiled, playing along. "Maybe you're right. Perhaps he is a clean freak. Or maybe he just wants to torture the maids with more work."
The absurdity of the situation struck them both, and they shared a hearty laugh, the sound echoing in the room. The camaraderie that had developed between them during the mundane task of changing sheets seemed to deepen with each shared chuckle.
As they continued their work, the sunlight streaming through the window danced across the room, casting a warm glow on the sheets neatly arranged on the bed. The laughter lingered in the air, transforming the chore into a moment of lightheartedness in the heart of the Elven palace. In the absence of the prince's watchful eyes, Aurora and Eledhwen reveled in the shared joke, finding joy in the simple act of companionship amidst the routine of palace life.