his exception

chapter thirty-one: recovering

The sound of pounding hooves upon the hard earth herald belonged to the approaching riders who were approaching Rivendell. Elrond rode at the front carrying Maethel's limp body in front of him with one of her hands around his waist to stop her from falling. There was a screech from Arwen as she raced forward to take a closer look at her best friend. Tears brimmed in her eyes as she hopelessly looked up at her father. Her father walked straight past her making his way straight to the healing rooms, still carrying Maethel's limp body, not even taking a look at her.

"What news of Maethel, Elladan?"

"She is still feverish but her breathing is seeming to get worse." Elrond's face dropped. "What of her wounds?" He asked, sadly knowing that they were much worse as he had seen her in Dol Guldur. Elladan looked down, Maethel was like a younger sister to him. "She has deep gashes to her side, it looks as though she had been repeatedly hit in the head with something sharp.. the possibly of a club. She has whip makes all across her back which have left permanent damage and marks." He frowned. The look was returned. In the twilight, Elrond found his way to her room. Running his fingers over the gouges and indentations, he contemplated the clashes Maethel must have faced as he sat outside the guest rooms. He allowed his eyes to close until dawn. A groan awoke him. With careful steps he approached her windows and caught a glimpse of her stirring form.

"Shall I call someone to attend you?" he said softly. Maethel opened her eyes and declined the offer, pulling the sheets around her. "The fever begins to leave me." She whispered as she tried not to cry from the sight of her wounds. "I am glad to hear it," he said, his back to her to hide his relief. Maethel slowly stood up, reaching for the sumptuous garment that was draped over a chair. Lord Elrond saw the deep marks on her back, deciding not to tell her the bad news just yet. "It is remarkable that you are still alive." Maethel gave a weak smile and she had to sit down when she felt a sharp sting at her side. "You must rest," Elrond said as he noticed, helping her back to bed. He felt her tight grip on his hand and noticed how weak the rest of her body was.

"We will talk more tomorrow?" Maethel said, gazing up at the elven elder. Elrond nodded, placed a gentle hand upon her shoulder, and walked toward the doorway. He paused and added, "I will have food and drink brought to you as soon as you wake."

Maethel sighed as she walked up the halls of Rivendell the next morning, her long sleeved, purple silk gown lightly brushing the ground as she walked, making a soft whisper in the peace of the glade. She pushed a piece of her silky blonde hair into her neat plait. She gave weak smiles to the passing elves but all they did was give her a side eye and whisper to their friends.

Arwen walked into the gardens," Hello Maethel, my dear sweet friend." Maethel looked away, her back to Arwen," Well look who it is, Arwen Evenstar," She turned around and let out a small smile. "You're back here again.." Arwen chuckled. "You always chose the most dangerous situations- she laughed- don't you?" Arwen looked closer towards her childhood best friend, but Maethel quickly looked away. "M-Maethel??" She then heard quiet weeps from beside her and she placed an arm around her. "What's the problem?" The elven princess looked around slowly, showing a faint scar that went from the corner of her eyebrow down to the other cheek. "I thought elves were meant to be beautiful??" She cried slowly. "Oh Maethel, do not think this of yourself. It hurts me. Beauty is not always on the outside it is mostly on the inside, you are much kinder and certainly more braver than many ellons and elleths here in Imladris. Don't think yourself, any lesser as you have a scar. It just shows how brave you are.. you survived Dol Guldur, not many people can say that!"

Maethel looked up and smiled at her friend. "Now you better go and see my father so he can heal you properly. Then you'll have to tell me who is making you smile so much, don't think I don't see it." Arwen smirked and Maethel rolled her eyes, "Of course, Lady Arwen.." Maethel proceeded to fake bow before she made her way towards the healing rooms.

"Have you been feeling nauseous? ill?" Elrond inquired, as he examined the rest of her body. The elven princess winced in memory. "Some, infrequent, almost unbearable.." Maethel looked up to look into the Lord's eyes. "Have you been loosing consciousness?" Elrond asked. Maethel looked down in thought, "I've been feeling dizzy," She admitted. "The times of day were hard to track, I had no recollection of how long I had been there for and they..." Elrond noticed her struggle, "We don't have to talk about it.. it's up to you." One of the healers arrived bringing the medicine which Elrond had asked for.

"You have wounds to your side and thighs which were.." Elrond paused, "...very deep, though with a few weeks you will be fit to leave. Though I do say try to not to get yourself into any dangerous situations- like fighting and.." Maethel's eyes widened. "B-But I need to get to the Lonely Mountain.. I n-need to warn the Dwarves. Azog he's joined with the necromancer.. he's created an army which is set to attack the mountain. Thorin...." Maethel panicked as she jumped to her feet, feeling a pull at her side. "You are not fit to fight, Maethel... I have seen into your future..you will die.."

Maethel looked over at the Lord of Rivendell. "I n-need to save him." She whispered hoping he would understand. She felt tears brimming in her eyes as she stood up and looked at the mountain in the distance. Elrond opened his palms, and he turned to look up at the princess, "This is not something to take so lightly, aranel nin (my princess) The pain, the lightheadness and breathlessness you are clearly well aware of."

"Hard to miss that." Maethel looked down.

"I want you to pay better attention to the beating of your heart," Elrond said, "I've already noted some inconsistencies in the rhythm in this short span of time. It could already be healing, but it could also be worsening, it could very well be healing incorrectly, as happens some times. You must know that you must not venture to the mountain in your condition." Maethel rose from her seat again, "And you must know that I have to save him, what if you were in my position and you were told that you couldn't try and save Celebrían.. your wife.." Elrond looked up at Maethel and she noticed how his breath hitched and his body tensed. They sat in silence for a while as they both looked outside at the mountain before she finally spoke again.

"P-Please... I must go.."

Lord Elrond looked at her before he looked away. "I am not your father, so I cannot command you to stay behind. But please take my advice.. you need to stay here to recover your strength, which will be much needed. Do you not value your own life over the life of a silly dwarf."

"This dwarf you speak so lowly of, is my life. The only one who truly understands me expect for Arwen, and sometimes my brother." Maethel raised her voice. "I am willing to sacrifice myself for him, and the others in his company. I love him!" With that the elven princess fled, her dress flowing behind her, from the healing rooms to the room where she was staying.

Her room was a small room made completely out of wood, with gaps letting a vast amount of light in. Her bed was in the right hand corner, with its sheets sprung around messily. She frantically walked around the perimeter waiting for an idea to pop into her head. Yes she would wait until the cover of darkness, then she would ride to Mirkwood. The cover of darkness arrived quickly and Maethel covered her black cloak over her head as she made her way to the stables. There she opened the stall closest to her and rode away on that horse, pulling on its reigns to make it go faster. The horse neighed loudly as Elrond looked out his window watching as her figure faded. He drew a long deep breath full of worry, he then turned away.