AN: I am so freaking sorry for the wait! Ughh i just started school, and I was really stressed these past few weeks, bc: new school=new friends, but with the corona, wearing masks for the whole day just made everything sound so much more horrible. At least, I got a new laptop!
And ANNOUNCEMENT: THIS STORY WILL NO LONGER BE UPDATED EVERY WEEK, BUT EVERY TWO WEEKS. MAY CHANGE.
Please enjoy this new chapter, and I hope you all are okay, and not feeling like life sucks right now (September is so not my favourite month)
Thanks for the follow, favs and review!
Annabel Jones: ughhh I'm sorry! I really really want to 'spill the beans' and just tell all of you everything! but where is the fun in that? ;)
mystarlight: Thanks! pls enjoy :)
Nymiriel: I unfortunately cannot answer that yet, but, the second question i can. Yes Alysae is going to see the fellowship when they arrive :) And thank you for your compliment and kind words!
the8horcrux: ha ha... funny you should say that... (cough, cough) Im sorry for the wait but I have a very buzy life, please forgive me! I am so happy that u enjoy this story. Next chapter will be... interesting ;)
PrettyRecklessLaura: I hope so too... ENjOy!
MustardLady: I know right, why cant she just know the truth? bc my story wwould be three chapters long, thats why ;) answers to come soon!
cardcaptor-kanna: haha i love hearing about your theories! i am not going to say anything bc ill spoil you, but ;) and my plot bunny has been running around wild, i dont really know where he's gone to anymore. Youll find how to feed yours soon enough ;)
. . . Chapter 14- Ethereal Dinner . . .
Soon after Laereth had left (with the two wrinkled dresses in hand and a promise of returning them soon), a knock came at the door.
"Enter!" Alysae called out.
The door opened and Mirwen stood upon the way, an impassive expression on her face. Her pale eyes took in Alysae's attire.
"I am to bring you to dinner," she said. Alysae was a bit taken aback by the way Mirwen seemed to have absolutely no emotions; her voice was cool and did not waver, her eyes gazed back with a flat indifference, and her face was smooth and seemed as if carven out of stone. So different from Laereth.
"All right," Alysae nodded and followed the elleth out. As they walked in silence, only broken by the small flap of Alysae's shoes against the floor and the slight swish of her dress brushing against her legs, she focused on Mirwen's blonde hair swinging down her back. It was captivating: not a single hair was out of place. In the distance ethereal voices chanted like the gentle breeze of the wind bringing the ringing of silver bells.
For some reason her stomach tightened; it twisted and fluttered as if lots of tiny butterflies were flying inside her. She let out a breath and smoothed her dress down even though there was no need for it. Suddenly she felt self conscious. Why was she even here? Before she could swallow and call to Mirwen, "I am not feeling well, I don't think I should be going," the elleth stopped. At first Alysae thought that the elleth had somehow guessed or perhaps had managed to read her mind like Lady Galadriel, but that should be impossible, right?
Then, the elleth turned to her. "We are here. This is where I must leave you."
And Alysae glanced up and realized that they had arrived at a set of large double doors. Two guards stood on either side, faces stern and proud.
"Thank you Mi—" she glanced back and Mirwen was already gone, so her voice trailed off. "All right," she muttered under her breath as she turned her attention back on the door. She took a deep breath and put her hair behind her ears. She stepped forward and the two guards swung the doors open. "Lady Alysae Thranduiliel," one of them said in a clear loud voice.
So she was announced. There was no turning back now.
Her hands clinging to the white dress on the sides, she walked inside the room. Keep your chin high, back straight, shoulders back, stare forward... all of this was running through her mind. But the second she entered, it seemed she nearly forgot all of it.
It was not really a room with walls and the likes; no, it was more open but reclusive. A high ceiling made of interwoven silver branches and golden leaves stretched out above them in the likes of a natural roof, the pale floor before her spread wide, and Alysae didn't have to see to know that it was very high and it most likely had no railings or way to stop a fall. And yet she felt safe. Sort of.
Here and there lights wisped out from the branches and such, like stars scattered across the room, and diffused a soft silver glow on all. And in the middle of the room, a lone table stood; long and white it was, with the fine cutlery already set, and in the middle of it, on one side, on two slightly bigger chairs were seated the lord and lady of Lorien.
They were beautiful, all soft glowing silver and white, and upon their gentle faces their keen eyes regarded her kindly.
Alysae squared her shoulders and walked towards the table, her hands hidden within the fabric of her dress. A chandelier of argent swung lightly from the ceiling just above the table. As she arrived, Alysae curtsied and bowed her head in a sign of respect towards the two rulers.
Just as Alysae straightened up, there was a small commotion from where she'd come from, and the doors burst open with a loud bang, making the occupants in the room turn their heads in the direction of the noise.
Standing in the doorway were Elladan and Elrohir, the first one dressed in fine purple, and the latter in midnight blue. They strode in the room, not seeming to be aware that Alysae was there.
"Sorry for the delay, grandnaneth," Elrohir said, adjusting the cuff of his sleeve. "It truly is all Elladan's fault; if he wasn't so obsessed about his hair we would have been here fifteen minutes ago at the very least!"
Elladan looked indignant. "Hey, that's not—!"
Alysae giggled, interrupting him, and drawing the attention of the other elves in the room. "It's true, Dan," she said. "You spend more time on your hair than Arwen does, and that's saying something!"
Elladan blushed and scoffed but denied it fiercely, grumbling under his breath. Elrohir, who was nearing the table, gave Alysae a beaming smile.
"You are awake," he remarked in pleasant surprise, coming to stand beside her.
Her fingers toyed with the sleeve of her newly acquired dress. "I guess I am," she said quietly.
"I am happy to hear it," Elrohir nodded at her. He pulled the chair in the middle back, gesturing at her to sit, which she did, and sat down on her left side, with Elladan on her right. They were facing the lord and lady of Lothlorien.
There was a moment of silence before Elladan spoke, "I'm starving. How about we eat?"
Lady Galdriel rolled her eyes gently at her grandson, something which greatly surprised Alysae. "I very much doubt that is the case, Elladan," she said in a kind and soft voice. "You have just eaten enough to feed a dwarven army two hours ago."
And so, the ice was broken.
-xxx-
The food was exquisite; even Alysae, who lived in a palace, and had experienced the taste of Imladris cooks, felt her mouth water at the delicious aromaes. From the first savoury bite of entrée, to the slightly spicy sauce that dribbled the main meal, to the last melting sugar pastry, Alysae was taken.
Elves kept on coming fluidly and soudlessly around, like fallen leaves twirling in the wind, to take old plates and bring new ones, and with them, new delicious smells and taste.
On either sides of her, Elladan and Elrohir were seen wolfing down their food, as if they had not eaten in centuries. Alysae rolled her eyes at Elladan who eagerly dug in some sweet smelling stew which had just been deposited in front of him.
"Be careful, Dan," she said, schrunching her nose up. "Your hair is falling in your stew."
Elladan immediately straightened up, an expression of absolute horror on his face. "What?!" His hands went to his hair, touching and poking, and looking at each strand carefully, and when he found nothing he turned to Alysae who was silently shaking with laughter. His expression turned annoyed. "You!" he grumbled, throwing her a dark glare.
"Yes, I believe that is me," she said amusedly.
"I will have you back for that," Elladan promised her darkly. "You will see."
Alysae shook her head with a slight laugh, and turned her gaze back on her food. She turned the stew around with her spoon, not really eating anything. Her stomach was full, if not slightly nauseous; and she hadn't eaten a lot. She felt like she ate a mouse's portion, and yet not a single other bite would be able to squeeze its way into her belly. She sighted.
"So, Alysae," said Lord Celeborn, immediately drawing the attention of Alysae.
"Yes ?"
Lord Celeborn's eyes were upon her, unreadable and yet not filled with hate or malice, but Alysae could not tell what he was thinking. "Elrohir has told me that you enjoy reading much, is that right ?"
Alysae threw a look at Elrohir on her left; he was looking nonchalantly at his plate. "Yes," she said, looking back at the ruler of Lothlorien.
"Good," he smiled. "I have quite the collection, you see, and, should you ever feel the want to have a look and read, you may do so. I shall show you my personnal library on the morrow," he said casually, as if he hadn't offered Alysae something as precious as he did.
Her eyes widened. His personnal library? She'd be damned if she wasn't excited and thrilled or near fainting.
Apparently, she was not the only one. The two dark haired twins on either sides of her had both matching looks of shock on their faces.
"What?" exclaimed Elladan. "That is not fair! You never let us come within a hundred feet of your library, why would she be allowed to?"
Lord Celeborn flashed a disapproving look at his grandsons. "Because from what I have heard, she has not, strangely enough, tried to nearly burn down every single scroll within that room, and nearly the whole of Lothlorien with it!"
At that, the twins looked abashful.
"It was only one time…" said Elrohir.
"Can't you let go of it?" added Elladan.
Lord Celeborn scowled at them. "Never ever, not even in a million years, or even if Eru himself ordered me to, would the two of you step foot in my libary. I made that mistake once; I will not do it again."
Alysae giggled. "You set fire to your grandfather's library?" she asked nearly incredulously, although, perhaps she should have expected this, it was, after all, Elladan and Elrohir who they were talking about.
"Not deliberately," said Elladan, passing a hand behind his neck.
"It was an accident," added Elrohir.
"I don't believe in accidents," said Alysae with an amused smile.
"Neither do I," Lord Celeborn added with a finality that held no arguments. Elladan and Elrohir went back to eating, looking like two children who had just been scolded; the sight was very amusing to Alysae. It seemed that Lord Celeborn and Laady Galadriel held the same sort of authority over them that only Lord Elrond seemed to have. Alysae guessed that being the ruler of a realm, and having mind reading powers could not hurt either.
Throughout the dinner, the lord and lady made an effort to ask her questions, including her in the discussions, although Lady Galadriel was mostly silent. She seemed to be silently observing Alysae, her keen eyes boring down into her. Her white face was fair and kind, her movements graceful. Not a single spot or crumb adorned her white dress, or the table beside. She was so effortlessly perfect, ethereal looking, that it made Alysae' stomach clench. She wished for the millioneth time that elves didn't have to be so perfect all the time. It all felt like throwing her very real, very imperfect mortality back in her face, like a bitter slap.
But finally, Alysae realised that the lord and lady of Lorien, despite their other worldly appearance, were just as kind and gentle as most other elves. Their golden hair, unlike Imladrin elves, or even the ones in Mirkwood, reminded her of Thranduil's and Legolas'.
She missed them.
So, so much. She wished she had discovered Lothlorien along with Legolas, who would have found the best secret spots, or would have helped her climb mallyrn trees. She would have read by his side, and he would have ruffled her hair and called her 'Alys', and been there for her.
Except that he wasnt there. He was on a death mission to save the world. Quickly, her thoughts turned dark.
Would her father have received the letters by now? Would he be in his study, filling out paperworks when Erkas and Miraven would come with a 'message'? Would he open it by candlelight, just like he always did? Or maybe it'd be at breakfast, at open daylight. Would he be expecting his son and daughter to be on the way back? Or maybe he'd been scared that something had happened, and that would explain their tardiness.
Would the scrolls drop from his hands? No, Alysae knew him to be an expert at mastering his emotions. But, perhaps, this might be the tipping point.
Would he send guards over? To check on her?
What would he feel? Probably anger, and fear, and maybe hurt and betrayal.
Tears stung at her eyes but she furiously blinked them away. She was so tired of crying. So tired of feeling sorry for herself. And yet, as her throat tightened as if something was blocking it, she could not help but feel it, feel sorry for herself.
Suddenly she felt like this whole dinner was pointless. Like eating, and drinking, and talking about their life and interests, and pretending to be merry, was pointless. She wondered what she was doing there. What was she doing here?
She should be in Mirkwood, by her father's side, telling him the news firsthand, not through some stupid letter.
Who sent bad news through letters?
It reminded her of the time Legolas had been injured on patrol. Of course, it had not been the first time; but it had been the first time he had been severly injured in Alysae's time at the palace.
She had been reading in Thranduil's study as he went through paperwork, occasionally scribbling in with his quill. The only sound had been of pages turning and Thranduil's writing, dipping his quill in the little glass pot which held his ink.
Other people may have been put off by the unmoving silent, but Alysae liked it. She liked not having noises to disturb her, she found it comforting to sit in silence, allowing her thoughts to wander. Thranduil did not mind it either.
And then, there had been a knock. Alysae knew instantly that something was wrong. The knock wasnt the usual knock-knock, may I please enter, Your Majesty? kind of knock; no, it had been loud and urgent and echoed in the room, like someone had rapped their knuckles against the door in a hurry.
Thranduil seemed to have felt it too. Perhaps, he was used to it throughout the centuries, or maybe it was because he was king, and therefore had the uncanny ability to sense and know all that happened in his kingdom.
Either way, his quill was left on the table as he rose smoothly from his chair. His steps were quick, and soon he was reaching for the door of his study.
"Ada?" Alysae asked worriedly, feeling as if he'd forgotten she was there at all.
Thranduil turned around in surprise. "Alysae," he said, as if just remembering she was there. "I will see what this is." He drew the door open, and there stood an elf, white faced, and eyes darting around. As soon as he saw the King, he straigtened up in a weak attempt at giving himself countenance.
He leaned forward and began speaking in hushed voices. As he spoke, the King's face remained impassive, although Alysae, who knew him well, could tell that he was anything but. It was in his eyes that one could look and see the true emotions in their depths. And Alysae could see worry, and panic.
For the millioneth time, Alysae wished she could be an elf. With advanced hearing, she might have been able to hear what the elf was telling her father. As it was, she could only stare and guess.
Before her eyes, Thranduil abruptly straightened up, and left the room, striding away in a swirl of pale hair and fine robes.
The elf was left standing there, wringing his hands together. Alysae scrambled to her feet, her book completely forgotten. "What is going on?" she asked the elf. But the ellon was still staring in shock at where the King had been. He shook his head slowly.
Alysae, feeling impatient, left the study too, holding her skirts in her hands so that she would not trip on the hem. She was nearly running through the corridors, somehow guessing where her father had gone to.
There was only one place he could be.
A sick feeling, that tightened in her chest, clenching her heart, and squeezing her stomach, made her fingers tremble. Something really was not right there.
In the distance, Alysae could hear voices speaking in urgent tones, the sound of many feets flapping against the marble floor, but it felt like distant murmurs.
After what felt like forever, and Alysae's still quite short legs were burning, she finally arrived at what was the entrancce to the Healing Wards.
There usually was quite a lot of people; the many healers which buzzed in and out of the rooms, the waiting family members and friends of the injured, and, of course, the injured themselves, but this time, it was absolutely swarming.
There were many elves crowding the area; some were healers, Alysae recognised a few of them, others were palace maids and cooks, which she had known all of them for the longest time, but there were also a couple of elven guards. Alysae knew them to be on border patrol, west of Mirkwood. And more specifically, Alysae knew it to be Legolas' patrol.
And he was not there.
Usually, if one of the member of his patrol was lying sick or injured, Legolas would sit out by his or her side, or wait outside in the corridor, until he knew the injured to be well on recovery.
But he was not there.
Instantly, Alysae knew whhat happened. But she could not bring herself to think it. It was not possible. Legolas never got hurt. He promised.
Her mind whirled, and suddenly the possibility that Legolas was hurt and possibly dying hit her like a load of bricks.
Her breath caught in her throat.
"Excuse me!" she called to a healer passing by. Her name was Eliel; she hadd once cleaned a bleeding cut on her knee when she had been a little younger. "What is going on?" she asked, her voice sounding very young and uncertain, and scared too.
The elleth's face scrunched up a little, as if she was thinking about what she was going to say. "There's been an injury," she finally said, her tone sympathetic.
"Who?" Alysae asked, feeling a growing sense of unease. She knew who it was. But the elleth gave her an apologetic shrug and moved away.
She realised that most people were crowding next to big wooden doors, which had been closed. The Royal Healing Wards.
Her heart skipped a beat.
No…
Then she was scrambling forward, pushing herself through the other elves, using her elbows, and calling out in a high pitched voice, "Please move!"
Alysae arrived at the doors, where two guards stood, their faces worried.
"Where is he?" she asked them. She sounded hysterical. "Where is he? Where is my brother? Where is Legolas?"
"Lady Alysae…" one of them began, looking quite uncomfortable. "It might be better if you returned to your rooms."
"No!" Her breath began to come in short, sharp gasps. "Where is Legolas?"
Her eyes filled with tears. She was only eight years old, and she had a difficult time controlling her crying; but this time, this time it was so much worse.
The guard shook his head. "I am very sorry, but I have instructions : no one is to enter the Royal Healing Wards."
"But-"
"No one. King's orders."
King's orders? Her father had ordered this? Ordered her not to come? Hurt filled her chest, along with a deep feeling of betrayal.
A small sob escaped her.
Just as she was turning away, to find a corner to be miserable and allow her tears to fall, there was a click behind her. She turned round.
The doors opened, and the Second Healer poked his head out.
"Ah, there you are!" he said, his gaze focusing on Alysae. "King Thranduil sent me to fetch you. Please follow me."
Alysae, still trembling, nodded and was quick to follow the elf through the doors to the Healing Wards, the two guards looking slightly embarassed. She bit her quivering lip and focused on the slight swish of the healer's pale robes as he walked.
Soon they arrived at a closed door. "This is where I must leave you," the elf told her. He was gone quicker than Alysae could blink. And Alysae pushed the door open and caught a glimpse of a white, heavily bandaged torso and long blonde hair. Legolas. She gasped.
Thranduil who had been sitting in a chair by the bed turned around sharply." Alysae," he acknowledged softly. "Come."
And so she walked forwards and Thranduil lifted her and sat her in his lap, with his arms gently holding her.
"Is he going to be all right?" she asked in a small voice, staring at the rise and fall of her broother's chest.
Thranduil was never one for sugar coating things. "I hope so," he said, and Alysae could see the worry in his pale eyes.
And throughout the night they kept by Legolas' side, hoping for some change.
Alysae blinked. It had been terrible; not knowing what was happening, that growing sense of unease, and eventual panic, and the fact that no one seemed to tell her anything.
Eventually, Legolas had recovered, but it remained one of her worst memories.
"Your mind is troubled," a gentle voice spoke in her mind. Alysae looked up to see Lady Galadriel's eyes upon her.
I am… she thought. Would she ever go back to who she used to be before the one ring was found and brought to Rivendell? She had no worries back then, she was carefree and happy. And now, in a matter of weeks it had all come crashing down.
"Well," said Celeborn, "this has been extremely pleasant, but it is getting late, and I would not want you to be dropping out of fatigue for your return tomorrow," he added, gesturing to his grandsons.
"You are leaving tomorrow?" Alysae asked in surprise.
"Yes," said Elladan, and Elrohir nodded, looking troubled.
"Oh, oh well," Alysae bit her lip and looked down. She was going to be left all alone.
They rose, and bid each other goodnight, and Elladan and Celeborn were the first to leave, but Elrohir lingered, and Galadriel stayed behind.
Alysae was just about to cross the doors, with Elrohir a little behind her when she heard a voice in her head.
"Come and look in the mirror and all your questions shall be answered."
Alysae jerked and looked back at Lady Galadriel, whose face was unreadable.
"Are you well?'" Elrohir asked her, when she stayed unmoving.
"Yes, everything is fine," she muttered and left the room.
"Look in the mirror, Alysae."
-xxx-
sooo? whaddya think?