Star Bride (A Stars of Varda Short Story Collection)

A Summer Storm

The Greenwood is alive with the sounds of sawing and hammering and shoveling. I have left the cool haven of the palace and joined the ongoing restoration efforts while the King attends a meeting with our captains of the Guard. After spending the morning greeting my people, inquiring about the restoration progress and concerns which I may raise at the next council meeting, I kneel in front of a newly built house and set to planting a flower bed.

Four summers have passed since the battle which destroyed our homeland, but with continued efforts from both Sindar and Silvan, there is life here again. It is evident not only in the new array of houses and courtyards built of stone, but also in lush gardens and pathways with flowers of every variety and shade.

It is beautiful. And it will not be long before it is all done.

A merciless summer sun watches from up high, its angry rays burning through my thin linen dress while I work. My fingers are wrapped tightly around the wooden handle of the trowel. It is in moments like this when I miss my quill, when I miss the simple occupation of copying ancient scrolls and recording happenings at court.

But I do not miss writing battle accounts involving giant spiders and orcs and other foul creatures invading my home of the Woodland Realm.

Nor do I miss my life before marrying its King.

"Your handmaiden will slay me with her eyes at seeing the state of your dress," says Narunir, my ever-faithful guard.

Leaning casually against a tree behind me, he has carried a look of exasperation ever since I insisted on dirtying my hands. His guard's attire, though designed for conflict, does little to hide the mirth in his eyes.

"Why? I am responsible for my own actions."

"She likes to blame me regardless, hiril nîn. She believes I am a bad influence on you."

I let out an unladylike snort. "She likes to blame you because you have been a bad influence on her. I have little to do with it."

"I keep well out of her way! Ever since I complimented her hair, she has been plotting my murder. You would think a pretty lady would appreciate a kind word or two. Nay, not her."

"If she is plotting anything, it is a wedding."

"She is betrothed?"

I look up at him, twisting my lips. "Have you asked?"

Looking both taken aback and flustered, a soft pink flush spreads to Narunir's ears. He avoids my gaze, choosing instead to look down at his boots.

"I may no longer practice matchmaking, but I have never known of two people so close to ravishing each other without doing anything about it."

He looks away towards the river, rubbing the back of his neck. "Are you sure about that, my lady?"

Now it is my turn to blush. I busy myself with digging in the earth, more aggressively than before. "Well, you have the ability to do something about it. The King and I... did not."

"Until you kissed him back to life and he realized he would gladly defy the Valar if he could wake up to your warm body every morning."

I shoot up. "Narunir!"

He chuckles and lifts his hands in playful surrender. A few neighbors pause to watch us, their hands shielding their eyes from the bright sun.

"That is not how it happened, and you know it."

"I am aware, my lady. I apologize."

But he does not look very sorry. If anything, he looks like an impish child caught eating his mother's strawberry tarts, knowing she will forgive him anything. I raise a brow and shake my head. "Perhaps my handmaiden is right. You are a bad influence. If the King heard you say that...well. You would not see me or your lady love again."