The Tale of Amarthwen - Chapter 6
Midsummer night had come and sounds of excitement and laughter filled the woods. Sydë stood on a high balcony near her room, watching the excitement below, by the foot of the tree. The crowd grew by the moment, with the arriving elves, the sound of laughter grew.
She returned to her room. She closed the door behind her, before leaning against it. She had no will to join in the festivities but neither to break her promise. She cursed under her breath, she and her stupid promises. She turned around slowly, thinking about that she would be joining the feast in her travelling clothes, when her gaze went over the bed. On her bed lay a blue dress. She walked over to it and let her fingers slide over the silky fabric. She never had been intrested in fancy clothes, or owned any. But there was something about this dress that made her think different. It was perfect. If made for her.
Where is she?? His eyes ran through the crowd of elves, searching for the face of the maiden he had grown to like so much. He found none. Where is she??
He wished he had been able to spend more time with her, but he had been busy with other things. Would she break her promise of coming to the feast? His eyes went through the crowd again, as he uncomfortably stood between a group of elves. Unaware of the questions they asked him.
There is where Ilmarin, his best friend and loyal compagnion since a young age found him. It seemed to him Gilgirith looked far from comfortable. He wondered what was with him, he seemed not at all like the elfprince he knew so well. The strong and confident leader. He moved through the crowd making his way to him. " Hail Gilgirith, my prince, my friend." "What is it that clouds your mind tonight?" Gilgirith stayed silent for a while, as if he had to realise someone was speaking to him. Ilmarin continued without waiting for a reply. "Whatever your worries might be. I suggest you leave them aside for the night, for what a fair night it is". Ilmarin's gaze went to a small group of elf-maiden that had followed him and gathered close around them. He smiled at them before facing Gilgirith again, smirking when hearing the gigles behind him.
Ilmarin never had to worry about not getting attention. He and Gilgirith had their share of admiresses. Ilmarin was highest in comment after Gilgirith himself and his father and shared a strong bond with both of them. Their families had been friends and allies for ages. Though there friendship was strong, they could not have been more different from one another. Ilmarin, with the long golden locks the people of the woods where known for, was ambisious, patriotic and more charming than any other. As Gilgirith was more in himself, queit though strong in his believes. He had the dark hair of his father. Ilmarin often thought the only thing they had in common was their stuborness.
Ilmarin smirked in himself before placing a hand on his friends troubled shoulder, gently forcing him to go forward towards the group of elf-maiden. " Come my friend". " Let's ease that troubled mind of yours and have some fun".
Who was the maiden in the mirror? She looked at her reflection, as she had did so many times before in the lakes or rivers that crossed her path. She hated her reflection. To her it carried the shadow that laid upon her. It reminded her of her faith. It reminded her of the lies she lived for denying a part of her being. The darkness that crept within her.
Her travelers clothes had made way for a dress. Her hair that she usually had in a single braid, now hung loose over her shoulders, curling down on the blue silk fabric. She could almost pass as an ordinary elf-maiden. But as she walked down the stairs, hanging on to the rail, trying desperately not to fall because of the tight fabric around her legs enabled her to move freely. She knew her moves would tell people otherwise. Tell them what she had known all along.
As she joined the crowd blow, smiling faces greeted her on her way, she felt a warmth in her heart and she placed, for a moment, her worries asside. She felt joy. She felt like she had found her home.
It seemed to her she had felt the shadow hanging over them for some time now. Though she just now, had been able to lpace it source. It almost seemed hard to imagine that among such joy, evil could be at work. But in her heart she knew better.
She thought about the day, Gilgirith had brought Elendé before her. She had felt like the shadow that had clouded her mind for so long had finally come upon her. Though her sences screamed to remove the tread out of their lands, she found herself unable to do so. For when her eyes met those of the maiden, something familiar struck her. Something she had kept locked up deep inside her memory, fearing the pain of remembering it.
It seemed all so clear now. The more she saw of Elendé, or how she wished to call herself here, the more she saw the similarities. Though not completely the same, in most of Elendé's ways she saw Ròmenwen, where she ones shared her every word with. The bond with Ròmenwen had been so strong she thought nothing could make one betray another. She had been wrong. In the time of the war of the ring, Ròmenwen had been caught by servants of Sauron the Abhorned andshe was forced to be his partner. After the war had come to an end, Ròmenwen escaped the bonds of Mordor and returned to her homeland Lothlorien. Lady Galadriel and lord Celeborn had departed Lothlorien, leaving Almarië and her husband to rule in their place. Though it hurted her greatly to do so. Ròmenwen was caring a child of darkness. And in order to protect her people, Almarië had denied her acces to the land. That was the last she had ever seen from her. And with the comming of her child to Lothlorien, she knew it would be the last in this lifetime.
And so it was that Almarië realised she had opened her land to Amarthwen, maiden of doom, and she watched with discust how Gilgirith, her only child, sought her company as much as he could. She assigned him as much extra duties as she could. But all to no aveal, for she watched her son falling more and more under the spell of darkness. Something had to be done.