Chapter 41
Yeah, Boiii
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The causeway was long and cold. The beginnings of rain pelted us, the fierce winds making it feel like tiny needles. The Hornburg loomed overhead and I had to lean my head back to see all of it. Golden heads peeked out from above the Deeping Wall. So, Mithrandir's assumption was correct, the women and children did escape to here.
I only hoped that when we were in, we wouldn't see any wounded or mourning. But the mourning couldn't be evaded. Everyone here had lost a husband, a father, a brother.
"Hail, Rohirrim! We are here to see to your wounded!" Aragorn called out to whoever would listen.
The great gate creaked open and out rode an armored female. Her brown hair was plastered to her forehead and shoulders from the driving rain. Her brown mare gleamed with slick rain. It was strange to see a Rohan woman with hair other than blonde. Or so I thought. Books always told me the Rohan people had blonde hair.
"Who are you?" Her voice gave away her young age.
"I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn. This is Gandalf, once known as the Gray Wizard. And this is—"
"Gimli, son of Gloin," the dwarf interrupted.
"And I am Legolas Thranduilion of the Woodland Realm."
A pause of silence.
I clear my throat. "And I am Lumornel Tree-Shade, here to see to your safety." I bit my tongue as I felt my face heat.
"We are honored to have royalty here with us. But why are you here?"
How many times did we have to say it, lady?
"We are here to see to your safety. And Lumornel feels the need to visit and hold counsel with you," Aragorn stated.
The girl looked at me.
Aragorn, why oh why would you say such a thing. I just want to help, not be put in the spotlight!
"Are you the one the prophecy speaks of?" Her voice held curiosity.
I lowered my head and tried to ignore the rain in my eyes. "Yes. What do they call you?"
"Leofwyn, daughter of Heoden." Her green eyes drifted from my face to Legolas's. And she wouldn't stop staring.
I gritted my teeth. "Yes, he's an elf."
Legolas flashed his brilliant smile. "Like what you see?" He joked.
I glared at him but could feel the hot blood creeping up my neck.
But I wasn't the only one who blushed. The girl turned scarlet red and quickly turned her horse around. "I'll let you all in."
"Thank you!" I sighed in exasperation under my breath.
Legolas smiled slightly. I pretended not to see it.
"Where is your authoritative figure?" Gandalf questioned.
"That would be Eowyn. She is tending to the wounded." The girl raised her hand—some kind of signal—and the great gate opened with a roar.
Torchlight and odors of all kinds flooded over us. Many women stood armed with swords and knives but lowered the steel when they saw the girl who lead us in. Barrels and wagons were pushed up along the walls behind the wall of women, many curious children peaking out between their mother's legs. I gave them the warmest smile I could. But some of the children caught sight of my exposed arm. I quickly pushed down my sleeve.
A woman came rushing in, her golden hair swishing over her brown tunic and her strong hands holding up her white skirts. The others parted easily for her.
"I came as soon as I can. What has happe—" The woman's gray eyes widened as they took us in.
"We seem to have some royalty among us, my Lady," the girl who guided us in announced.
"Please. We would like to be treated as equals among you," Aragorn stated.
Darn straight. No need to stand out.
But... some pampering does sound good.
"And who are you?" The regal girl settled her eyes on Strider.
He didn't miss a beat, so he introduced us all over again.
The two—no three of them, with Gandalf, exchanged some words. I looked around at the people staring shamelessly at us.
Something wasn't right.
Maybe I was just being paranoid. Maybe hunger and sleep deprivation made me crazy. But the shivers on my spine and the standing hairs on my neck said otherwise.
"Loosen your grip, mellon. You are in no danger here." When had Legolas leaned over from his horse?
But he was right, somehow I had taken free my long-dagger. I held it in a death grip. Slowly, I sheathed it into place.
"Gi hannon," I breathed.
He nodded and swung down from his horse, damp clothing clinging to him. Adjusting the bow across his back (the others had finally given it back to him) he held out a hand for me to take.
I almost refused—I can get down by myself, thank you very much, but I saw a handful of girls watching him—us.
So, I took his hand.
His curious eyes made me look away. "What's happening now?"
"Eowyn— the niece of the deceased King Theoden, will be showing us to our bedchambers. Then we will feast."
"Oh good," I breathed. My knees were weak from hunger and I'm pretty sure my stomach has already eaten half of itself.
Legolas chuckled. In response, my heart fluttered and jumped.
Stop it, heart!
On our long—too long—walk down the sparsely torch-lit corridors Eowyn explained to us that the rooms were used for chiefs and generals in war, but since they're gone, we get to use them. The women, elderly, and children sleep in the caves below. She claims her reason for not letting a few sleep in the rooms above is that she's afraid it'll cause a squabble. I guess that makes sense, but why not let the elderly or the wounded use these rooms? They could turn it into a makeshift hospital for the time being.
My chamber was at the end, a hall away from Legolas' and Gimli's. The room was plenty large. An ornate rug covered most of the rock floor and a four-poster bed was in the center. The bed was the same size as the one I had in Lothlorien, maybe a bit smaller, so since I was used to that one I wasn't as surprised by the size of this one. In a corner stood a folding screen and tub for bathing. On the other side of the room stood a decent sized armoire and mirror.
Opening the armoire, I found no clothes. But of course, there wouldn't be. And there was no bathing water or soaps in the tub either.
Sighing, I slipped off my traveling pack and set it on the bed. I cringed at the water spot it left behind on the clean sheets.
I stripped off my weapons: the long-dagger harness on my thigh, the twin-short-sword sheaths on my back, the empty knife sheath, my belt and sword.
This journey really has changed me. I remember back in Mirkwood when I hated the thought of touching a dagger. Now look at me. I'm actually missing my short-swords I received in Lothlorien. Hopefully, I'd get another pair. They reminded me of Thranduil's swords—
Thrandies! That's what I'll call my short-swords-but-not-quite-daggers! Ah ha!
Smiling to myself, I wrung out my soaked hair.
Knock knock.
"Come in!" I called out.
The door timidly opened, revealing a bashful looking Legolas. His hand shielded his eyes.
"Are you changing?"
I barked a laugh. Reaching for my hairbrush, I said, "No, mellon. If I was then I wouldn't have said you could come in, now would I?"
I wasn't entirely surprised to see a blush spread across his cheeks.
"Could I escort you, my Lady, to supper?" I loved the way elvish rolled off his tongue.
The thought of Thranduil knowing what's between me and his son made me shake my head.
"No thank you. You go on, I'll be behind."
He didn't look sure, but he obliged. He nodded and went on his way.
Yanking my brush through my hair one last time, I then braided it and tied it back with a ribbon.
I stuffed my bag under the bed. I don't need anyone taking it.
Before closing the door shut behind me, I gazed longingly towards the bed.
Sorry, Bed, but the call to food is too strong.
I wasn't even two steps down the hallway when I stopped abruptly.
You idiot! I smacked myself on the forehead. You don't know the way to the dining hall!
Grumbling, I picked a random direction and began my search for a person to ask.
Eventually, I found an elderly man. Apparently, I had been going in the wrong direction!
Soon enough, I stumbled into the dining hall. The enormous room was basically a cafeteria. Long rectangular tables spanned the length of it, benches on either side. At one end of the cafeteria, there was a line where people stood with trays waiting for their slop. At the other end roared a fire. It was at that end that I found Legolas.
He and the rest of my companions sat alongside Eowyn, as did many other women that I did not recognize. I bit back a smile when I saw an empty seat next to Legolas.
I pounced on the elf, setting my hands on his shoulders and talked in his ear. "Can we get food know?"
He twisted around, a smirk touching his lips. "Did you get lost?"
I scowled and refused to answer.
"Come on, elf boy." I tugged on his still damp tunic. "I'm starving."
"Are you bossing me around?" He quirked an eyebrow. How in the world can he do that?
"Oh, I'm sorry, Prince," I sassed. "But if I wait any longer I'll turn into a husk. Not everyone can be an elf like you."
"I could have you hanged for that, my Lady." His voice was light, the smile making the joke clear.
I pulled him towards the line. "But you wouldn't." And Mirkwood didn't do that type of inhumane punishment anymore. Nobody rebelled against the King and his family, they were all loved dearly. Unless you were an orc.
Turns out the 'slop' wasn't slop at all. Fresh vegetables, warm potatoes, chicken.
Where did they get chicken?
Right now, I didn't care about an answer. All the savory smells made my mouth water and my knees weaker than they already were.
I piled on my food and Legolas did the same, but without the enthusiasm I had.
I weaved around people, self-consciously pulling at my sleeves to cover my array of scars.
Gimli laughed when I sat down at the table. "One could swear that we haven't fed you since Edoras!"
"And she would probably swear back that that is true!" Aragorn laughed.
I shook my head with a smile, tucking a stray strands of my hair behind my ear. I plucked a veggie in my mouth and looked around, anywhere but acknowledge my two friends.
Many were minding their own business, many were looking at us new folks. Do they know who we are? Or are they just curious?
Reaching for my fork, I—
"Rhaich! I forgot my utensils!" I stood from the table—
Aragorn stood, followed by Gimli. "Sit mellon. I have yet to get my food. I'll bring some for you."
"Thank you," I smiled, sitting down.
"Lumornel, I've heard many things about you."
I turned my head towards Eowyn. "Oh?" What had she heard? Anything embarrassing? How had she even gotten the information?
She nodded and set down her fork. "Yes. There have been rumors sweeping about that the Prophecy-Chosen has been found. Is it true that you carry the force of the sun?"
I was taken aback. The force of the sun?
"I-I'm sorry. But that's not true." Where had she gotten that absurd thought? "It-It's more like... starlight. And energy. I can feel it... all around us. Even as we speak."
I blushed, seeing that many ears had turned our way. But it's true, the air hummed and thrummed all around us. Around the elderly, the energy was weaker, but around the lively ones, it was vibrant and strong.
My embarrassment made the sensation stronger and I clenched my fists to prevent that energy from soaking into me.
Her gray eyes widened. "You have been very much gifted my friend. I hope that with you on our side, this battle can be won."
With me on their side? Did they expect to use me as a pawn? As if I was a sword-hand that could easily be discarded and replaced?
Yes, I'd love to help Middle-Earth any way I can. Even if that means the method I must use I don't like. I mean, I had agreed to travel with a band of males for hundreds of miles. If that doesn't scream commitment, then I don't know what does.
And what about Aragorn? He's the hope of man.
Legolas nudged me with his elbow.
"What?"
"Eowyn asked you a question."
I blinked. "I'm sorry," I said turning back to her. "I wasn't listening."
She raised her eyebrows but didn't voice her thought. "I had asked if you had lived in Mirkwood."
"Oh. Well, yes. I did."
"But your parents... they are Men or Elves?"
"My adoptive parents are elves, so are my biological parents."
A young woman sitting next to her furrowed her brows. "But that doesn't make any sense! You're of the race of Man!"
I shrugged and fiddled with my thumbs. That couldn't be helped.
Right then Aragorn and Gimli came to my rescue.
"Ah! Fresh meat! It has been awhile, my friend." Gimli gazed lovingly down at his steaming tray. Legolas shook his head with a smile and leaned forward to say something witty.
"Here you are, mellon." Aragorn placed the white-wrapped bundle of utensils down next to my plate.
"Hannon lle."
"It is strange, you speak like an elf. Yet you are not one," Eowyn commented.
Please stop talking.
"She has the heart and mind of one too." Legolas, you're not making this any better.
I motioned to myself. "Well, obviously I'm not. And I'll never be one either."
Annoyed, I tugged on the white napkin hiding my fork.
It all happened in slow motion.
The silver objects all clattered to the table like deep bells. They were all simple and unadorned. Spoon and Fork and—
Knife.
A single bare butter knife.
I almost threw up.
Memories of an old man's gruff voice came back to me.
All my scars from his scalpel started tingling, protesting at the thing in front of me. On my collarbone, on my legs, my torso, my feet, my—
Blunt knives, sharp knives, hot knives. He had used all of them. Even a simple butter knife.
Much like the one in front of me.
His tools commanded by his clawed hands gnawed on me, while my screams were muffled by a gag and that dark silky snake had quivered in me.
I swear I could feel it move in me again.
His words had taunted me, his sweat had dripped on me. I could still feel my own warm, sticky blood pool under me if I thought hard enough—
I pushed back from the table.
Ignoring my friends, I strode out of the dining hall, a hand to my mouth and my body trembling.
I escaped through the hallways to my room, barely keeping myself from falling apart.
*********
My fingers blindly closed the door and locked it as my mind closed in on its self. My body collapsed to the floor halfway to the bed.
Images and sounds from my time in Isengard came flooding back, so fast I couldn't stop them.
My hands trembled and shook, my arms and legs followed suit. Wrapping my arms around myself, I desperately willed them to stop.
An inky black substance leaked out of my skin like mist.
No! NO!
My heart pumped more blood than it could handle as I stared down as the evil darkness oozing from me.
"Stop," I wept. "Go away!"
I shook my hands in front of me, making the darkness shake and tremble away in waves. Despite my fear, some primal part of me couldn't help but find the darkness... beautiful. The smooth black waves rose on the air like some kind of mystical bird. It was an entity of its own, unlike my light that seemed grafted to my soul.
It wrapped around my hands like chains, dark wisps floating away. I pulled my hands away, but it came with me. The darkness—it-it's a parasite, buried deep inside me. It had clung and clawed its way into me, and now it won't detach.
In a desperate attempt to make it go away, I let in that flood of energy flow in. I could feel my skin heating.
I pushed out the light in me blindly, making it nearly impossible to see through the searing whiteness. I sent it in every direction, frantic to make the evil coming from me go away.
A cacophony shattered through my fractured breathing. My evil wrapped hands jumped to my ears, my whole body wincing at the shattering and clashing. The shadows whispered against my arms.
"LUMORNEL!" Fists pounded on the door. But I couldn't get up. The shadows on my arms wouldn't go away.
Okayokayokay I'll command those demons. I'll do it... if only to make this darkness and torture go away.
The door clanged open, the doorknob chipping the wall.
A body kneeled beside me, a warm hand resting on my sweaty back. I couldn't see who it was since my forehead was on the floor. But I already knew.
"Lumornel?" Legolas whispered.
I brought my trembling hands to my chest, relief drowning me for I did not feel any of the darkness whispering against my skin. I didn't trust my voice enough to speak.
I leaned into his touch, sitting up to do so. Only to freeze at the sight around me.
The blankets had been blackened to a crisp, smoldering feathers from the pillows resting on top. The armoire was blackened too, its doors hanging by the hinges. The mirror had shattered. The panels of the folding screen had been burned out.
"What did I do?" How can I cause so much damage? How is this a gift of goodness? A gift to protect?
Legolas rubbed a circle on my back. "What did he do to you?"
I shuddered, I knew who he meant.
"...terrible things." I took in a deep breath of calming air. "He cut me."
His hand stilled.
My shoes came off, along with my socks. My toes didn't have any toes nails, only the early buds of new ones. Saruman had enjoyed my screams as he took them. I rolled up my pant leg a couple inches. Ragged lines coated them. They would fade in time. But they would always remind me. With them, things would never be normal. I would always be reminded.
I heard the intake of his breath.
"He did this wherever clothes would cover. He knew I would never be able to function normally with this lurking below the surface. I'd have to hide my skin from everyone."
"And now I can't even bear to look at a knife," I spat, totally disgusted with myself.
He was silent for a moment, deep in thought. "I won't tell you that things will get better because I do not know... I am facing a similar dilemma myself. After the Ring... now I don't know what to do. The same thing is still happening with..." the memory of my soldiers dying. "I don't know how to go back to living normally."
I grabbed his hand and squeezed hard. "Then we'll have to figure it out together."
He squeezed back.
*********
He left a while back. More like I had told him to leave. With the petty excuse of 'wanting to be alone.'
But I wanted company more than ever.
Without my knowing, Legolas had gone to get Eowyn. She showed me to another room, much like the bedchamber I had scorched.
Now I lay curled up under the blankets, fatigue taking over after I had used that massive amount of energy. Shivers racked my body. The cold seemed never ending when it came to being at Helm's Deep. Or maybe the cold came from the evil living in me.
I berated myself for my stupid, idiotic actions at dinner. If I can't even stand to touch a knife, then how can I fulfill the prophecy? I shouldn't be able to let a simple butter knife best me. Maybe it's not me after all.
I sighed, pulled my knees closer. The faces of whoever talked to me, knowing the prophecy 'prophesied about me' came to the forefront of my mind. Every single one holds hope. If people knew how weak I really am, they wouldn't put their hope in me.
That's why I must stay strong in the eyes of people. Only alone am I able to break down.
But I fear that one day I won't be alone enough. The weight of this task will slowly and surely bear down on me until it breaks me.
So, I'll have to stay strong as long as I can, hiding the fact that I'm breaking underneath.
Melnare's words from Orthanc came back to me.
Being broken isn't always bad, mellon, you can build yourself up again with diamond and steel and you'll be stronger than you ever were.
I took in a shuddering breath. But right now I don't want to pick up the pieces of myself. Not now.
My eyelids grew heavy and sleep finally took me.
*********
Cold sharpness pricked my neck—
My eyes shot open in shock and fear. My blood was set on fire.
The knife pressed harder into my flesh.
"I never expected to meet again like this, Lumornel," came her hard voice.
Ice was dumped into my veins. I recognized that voice.
My eyes lifted.
And saw Duvaineth.
*********
"Hardship often prepares an ordinary person for an extraordinary destiny"
--C.W. Lewis
StOp GeTtiNg JeAlOuS LuM. cHiLLLL.
AnD dUvAiNetH I nEvEr LiKeD yOu
If you're having trouble remembering who she was, she was the elleth Lum found after a skirmish with some orcs on her trip to Lothlorien. She was the one who had the Palantir and left suddenly.
Thoughts? Ideas? Predictions?
Brandon Sanderson... Read his books...
Oh! Have any K–pop/V-pop fan reading this listenEd to Lac Troi by Sung Tung (I think that's his name). Anyways, there's a part in the video that reminds me of Thranduil.
Again, I'm forgetting something...
Novaer, mellyn!
~awatin~
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