Anariel of Erudin: The Age of Revolution | Lord of the Rings

15. Accidents

High up in a tree, far from Thranduil's halls, I fingered the nearby leaves as I tried to remember my words for tomorrow's ceremony.

"Ai oatheron ad oldhill ... Ai moondeer a moonhill ... Ai meldeer a meldi ..." I stopped and shook my head. "Oh, that's not right at all, is it? It sounded so nice when they said it, but when I try, it sounds awful, like a babbling baby learning to speak for the first time!"

Groaning, I fell back onto the tree branch. "Why can't I just speak my own language? I swear, it's like they want me to make a fool of myself ..."

Perhaps they did. Sanya wasn't the only one displeased with this marriage. I knew this because I'd overheard them discussing it in the great hall once. At first, I had no idea they were talking about it, but then I heard the elf-king say this:

"It is his decision, Sanya. Now, we may not agree with it. We may not even like it. But we will respect it."

That phrase, that simple yet decisive phrase, was the only one spoken in the Common Tongue, so I knew I was meant to hear it.

A group of voices parted me from my thoughts-loud, clumsy voices, speaking together in the Common Tongue. Rolling onto my stomach, I parted the leaves to get a better look at them.

Three boys were heading east using an old dirt path that had been cleared by the elves many years ago. By now, though, very little of that path remained, as most of it had been overcome by the forest. Still, they walked on, hacking through the branches and vines with their swords, knives, and axes.

Now, I considered them boys because they couldn't have been older than sixteen by the look of them. They were tall and strong yet gawkish, all of them, like they were a bunch of insecure children trapped in men's bodies. And their facial hair, tiny whiskers of black, hadn't yet fully come in.

Despite their youth and inexperience, they tried to act tough.

"If I come across one of those great spiders," said one of them, "I'll kill it single-handedly. Drive my sword straight through it."

He took his sword then and started slashing through the invisible beast, five, six times. Once it was dead, he went to sheath his sword and missed the sheath completely, narrowly impaling his friend, who was walking behind him.

The taller boy jumped back and cried, "Watch where you're sticking that thing! You want to do me like you did that-"

"That was an accident!" insisted the boy in a panic. "He came out of nowhere-snuck up on me, he did!-I didn't mean to-I didn't mean to stab him!"

"Skewered him like a fat pig, you did," said the third boy. "I didn't know it would go through a man like that ..."

"But he might not be dead, right? I mean, he could be okay. He looked strong enough-real strong."

"He looked pretty soft to me," said the tall one with a shrug, "especially when that blade went right through his belly. Did you see all that blood? I've never seen so much blood ..."

"It was an accident!" The poor boy succumbed to a shaking fit. "I swear, it was an accident!"

"You know," said the third boy after a while, "I think he was trying to help us. Thinking back now, I know he was. Maybe he thought we were lost."

"We was lost," interrupted the tall one. "We're still lost. But it doesn't matter what happened-if he's dead or not-because we'll be soldiers soon, and soldiers kill people." He grabbed one of the overhanging vines and cut through it with his dagger. "Let's not dwell on the dead. It's a long road to Fornost."

Falling silent, the three boys continued on, disappearing into the dense thicket of trees. After a while, I climbed down from my tree and stepped onto the trail on which they'd walked.