Daughter Of Lórien || Book 1||

Ch 37 ~ A Letter from Home

Another week passes by like the first and still no more news comes from Arwen. I had tried to write back to her but it was no use. Thranduil would not risk sending even one messenger out into the forest.

I release a heavy sigh as I pace in circles around my room, my long velvet gown fluttering around my ankles.

I had to find a way to get home. The orc blockade must have some sort of weak point. It would only have to be wide enough for a single rider to pass through. Once I'd cleared the forest, there would be nothing to worry about.

I tug at my braided hair, brow furrowed in concentration.

Sneaking out was no longer an option. Patrols have been doubled, day and night, on guard in the chance of an orc attack. And I wasn't oblivious enough to miss the extra watch placed on me. Whether it was Varissë or the other servants, it seemed that someone knew where I was at all times.

No, sneaking out was already difficult enough before. I'd have no chance now.

The only option left to me was convincing Thranduil to actually let me leave. And that was almost as impossible as sneaking out.

I'd already asked him multiple times before, proposing different ideas each time but he'd always give me the same answer: my father had requested me to stay here and he had agreed. There was nothing more to it.

I growl in frustration, kicking the carpeted floor. I was running out of ideas. Perhaps after the Feast of Starlight in a few days time he would be in a more understanding mood.

The opening of the door interrupts my thoughts.

Varissë comes into the room, the usual cheerful smile on her face as she greets me.

"This just arrived for you, my lady," she says, holding out a letter to me. "I believe it is from your sister."

My eyes widen and I nearly rip the letter out of her hand. My heartbeat quickens as I tear open the envelope to reveal Arwen's familiar script sprawled across the paper within.

It reads:

Dearest Celé,

Ada has received news of the orc infiltration of Mirkwood. When Elladan told me, I could not believe it.

My heart goes out to you, sister. If only you had been able to come home earlier. It was difficult enough for our brothers and I to say goodbye to Naneth, I can't imagine how it must feel to not be able to do so. She set sail this morning.

My heart stops, the blood turning cold in my veins.

I frantically re-read the last sentence, praying I had misread it but the truth stares back at me from the page, written in ink.

She set sail this morning.

The letter falls from my hands, fluttering gently to the ground and I fall to my knees.

Varissë lets out an expression of concern but I barely hear her. My entire body is numb. A steady drumming pounds in my ears, filling the silence in my head.

It was too late.

She was gone.