Brightest Stars | Love of Royals: Book I

XVIII: Clearing

My best friend has frequently spoken of her large family, but I don't quite realise the sheer size of it until I'm taken to visit her home the following day.  Gelya is the oldest of five siblings: three elleths and two ellons.  The youngest, a sweet little elleth named Eirwen, is only twenty-five years old—meaning she appears to be about nine in human years—and she insists on giving me a guided tour of the small, cosy, house, complete with commentary on every room.

When we reach the kitchen again, and I'm greeted with the pleasant smell of baking, Eirwen squeaks in excitement.  Clearly the ability to squeak at any given time has been passed on through the family. 

Gelya and I exchange smiles as the dainty elfling bounds up to her mother, Marieth, who turns around from where she was arranging steaming hot biscuits onto a plate.

'Nana!' Eirwen cries, tugging on her mother's sleeve, 'Nana!  Are they ready?'

Marieth laughs.  Her youngest daughter is not yet tall enough to see over the top of the high counter.  'Yes, little one,' she says kindly, handing Eirwen the plate of biscuits, 'be careful, now.  You don't want to drop them!'

'Yes, Nana.' Eirwen takes the biscuits and with the utmost caution, walks across to where Gelya and I are stood in the doorway.  She looks up at me, her round hazel eyes brimming with adoration, and holds out the plate.  'Elena, these are for you.  Thank you for being so nice to my big sister.'

My face immediately breaks into a smile.  To Eirwen's delight, I carefully take the plate and lean forward to kiss the little elleth on the head.  'Hannon-lë,' I beam, trying my hardest not to fill up with tears, 'your sister is wonderful.  As are you.'

Eirwen gasps in happiness.  'I like you.  You're very kind.  And very pretty,' she grins, 'are you really a Star?'

Marieth cuts in before I can answer.  'Now, Eirwen.  Don't go asking questions like that.  Elena may not want to talk about it.'

'No, it's alright,' I assure her, then turning back to Eirwen, I reply, 'yes, I am.  But the nicest people I've met have been elves.'

The ecstatic elfling squeals again.  Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Gelya smiling widely, her warm eyes shining.  Eirwen wraps her little arms around my waist, and in that moment, I wish I was just another one of these elves—no tasks, no powers, very little danger, and certainly no close interaction with Thranduil.

As Gelya and I prepare to leave—looking forward to the thought of feasting on those delicious-looking biscuits—Marieth catches my eye.  'You're welcome here anytime.  And the best of luck to you,' she winks, 'for everything.'

To my horror, I find myself blushing. I know full well what she's referring to, and part of me is in shock that she knew. Although, I'm not angry with Gelya for telling her mother about how I feel—Marieth seems kind, and unlikely to use the information against me. Despite all that, I'm blushing nonetheless. I can see Gelya giggling in my peripheral vision.

After thanking Marieth, I follow Gelya into a small, secluded clearing where we sit down on the lush grass and breathe the scent of the myriad niphredil. She seems incredibly shocked when I offer the biscuits to her.

'They were made for you, you can't possibly share them with me!' She pushes the plate gently back towards me.

'Oh, please,' I sigh, 'you deserve them. And do you expect me to eat all of these on my own?'

Gelya smirks. 'No, I don't.' She reluctantly takes a biscuit, and within minutes, the plate is completely clear. It's even devoid of crumbs, which we had no trouble in polishing off afterwards.

Why am I letting myself do this? I'm supposed to be out in the world somewhere, completing my task, but instead I'm eating biscuits with my best friend. None of this was meant to happen to me, and yet it has. I'm becoming closer to these elves, but also more and more of a danger to them. Why have I not left yet? My excuse is that I'm still healing, but in truth, I'm holding onto things I'm not ready to let go of.

The Woodland Realm is, I must admit, beautiful. Every day I can go deeper and deeper into its forests and gardens, discovering new winding pathways and hidden idylls within its vastness. As each day passes and spring blossoms, the beauty just seems to increase, which is a feat I would not have deemed possible when I first saw this place. I can't help but wonder if the wilderness beyond the borders is anywhere near as stunning, and if I am to miss this realm as much as I'll miss some of the people in it.

Of course, some people I'll be overjoyed to leave behind—whereas I've developed strong attachments to others. Thranduil is, naturally, my first thought. Then there's Gelya, and even her friends and family whom I've met. Does this happen to all Stars who come to Middle Earth? If I ever have the opportunity to speak directly to Varda, she'll be in for a lot of questions when this is over.

That's it. I'm giving it three days. Three days and then I'll be gone. I've been putting off my task for far too long, and the consequences of a Star procrastinating could be severe. I know I was held back by my injury, but now I'm just being weak. I should not be holding on anymore—I have three days to let go.

'What are you staring at?' Gelya asks, waving a hand in front of my eyes.

'Oh, um...' I harshly snap back to reality. 'Nothing.'

However, there is something that's caught my eye across the clearing. It's hidden by foliage, half-devoured by the snaking vines, but I can tell it's something made by elves—something made of stone.

'Wait... what's that?' I inquire, gesturing to the strange thing amid the leaves.

'I'm not sure,' Gelya replies, raising an eyebrow.

Intrigued, I get to my feet and go over to investigate. Wary of the thorns threatening to pierce my finger, I carefully move one of the vines aside. It reveals a face; the face of an elleth. I gasp suddenly as I realise what she's wearing upon her head, despite it being partially covered by foliage.

'Elena? What is it?' Gelya hurries over to stand beside me, equally fascinated.

'She—she's wearing a crown.' My voice comes out as a hoarse whisper as I slowly point at the top of the statue.

'Queen Ellerian...' Gelya breathes.

'Did you know this was here?'

'No... I didn't. I've hardly ever come in here, though. It's quite easy to miss.'

I pause, my mind flitting back to the day I read Ellerian's diary. 'Do you think Thranduil knows it's hidden like this?'

'I'm afraid I don't know. I don't know the King like you do,' she smirks, 'I've given him wine and fresh bedding, not my heart.'

I'm too lost in thought to react. Surely if Thranduil knew his wife's statue was covered in leaves and vines, he'd want it to be cleared?

For someone who's been on earth for less than a month, one could say I've had my fair share of bad ideas, but the one I've just had... oh dear, is all I can say.

***

Elvish:
Nana = mum/mummy
Hannon-lë = thank you