Daughter Of Lórien || Book 1||

Ch 22 ~ Word from Rivendell

"Elrohir!" I shout, sprinting through the door and into the busy stables abuzz with activity as servants rush in and out with supplies. "What happened?"

I rush over to where he is strapping packs and supplies onto his horse, dodging busy servants as they rush to and fro. He finishes securing his pack and then glances over to me, raising a brow at my wild hair (which I have no doubt resembles a lions mane at the moment) and dirt-covered leathers. I instantly know something is wrong when he does not offer a sarcastic comment on my appearance; instead only letting his solemn eyes meeting my concerned ones.

"We leave for Rivendell," is all he says as he turns from me and makes his way over to the stallion I recognize as Elladan's mount in the next stall.

I frown at him, my brow furrowing in confusion.

"So soon? But were not expected for another five months." I state matter-of-factly, staring at him in bewilderment.

He makes no move to explain so I grab his hand, my worry escalating. "What's wrong?"

He sighs, not meeting my gaze, his hands pausing only for a moment.

"Don't worry about it," he quickly mumbles, shaking my hand away before continuing to saddle the horse.

Dread settles in my stomach at his cold demeanor. Elrohir is never like this. He is always open, rarely keeping secrets from me, even if it is bad news. Growing up, his honesty was a trait I had appreciated from him as the younger siblings were rarely notified about anything serious.

If Elrohir is acting this way now, there is definitely something wrong. And there is no way he's get away with not telling me.

Grabing his forearm with a firm grip, I lock him with a steely gaze, my voice stern and icy.

"Elrohir, tell me what happened. Now."

He flashes me an annoyed frown but then relents with a heavy sigh, shaking free of my grip and dragging me out of the stables to a quieter area around the back. We stand there in silence for a moment as Elrohir paces the floor, his steps disturbing the autumn leaves before he finally speaks.

"Father needs us to return at once." He says in a quiet voice, his eyes still refusing to meet my gaze.

"There have been whispers and..." he trails off, his eyes quickly darting around before settling on me, his mouth drawn in a firm line.

"The scouts have found her."

My heart misses a beat.

I hear a sharp intake of breath from my lips as my mind reels. It's been nearly four months since she had gone missing, and now...

"And...?" I whisper, my eyes searching his frantically, desperate for more information. "Is she...?"

He looks back to the stables and lets out a steady breath, running a hand through his dark hair before turning back to me, a faint smile on his face.

"She's alive."

A spark flares in my chest.

I let out a breath I didn't even realize I was holding in, my shoulders sagging in relief.

Alive.

I feel my chest swell at the word, a single, hopeful tear sliding down my cheek.

My mother is alive.

Relief washes over me as I grab Elrohir and crush him into a hug, the tears now freely streaming down my face. He hugs me back tightly but when we draw apart, his face is lined with worry, his eyes dark.

"She's being held prisoner in an orc camp."

My stomach plummets.

A stream of creative curses slip past my lips.

If Elrohir disapproves of my language, he certainly keeps his thoughts to himself, the twitch of a muscle in his jaw the only indication that he heard me at all.

"Where?"

"Near the Redhorn pass in the Misty Mountains. That's what the scouts reported," he says curtly. "Ada wants us to return at once, to go rescue her.

He shrugs his shoulders casually. "With the proper group of soldiers, it shouldn't be hard."

I give him a nod, already putting together a group in my head.

"I'll go pack my things at once."

I turn back toward the palace but his hand catches my arm, pulling me back. His eyes are lined with worry, and despite the joyful news I had just received, I feel my elation dwindle.

"Celé, Ada wants Elladan and myself to return." His eyes shine with pity as he speaks, a hint of regret in his voice. "You are to remain here."

And as quickly and unexpectedly as it came, I feel my joy evaporate.

I stare at him, unable to even register what he had just said. Ice slips around my heart as his words settle into me, dread pooling in my stomach.

"And did Ada say why I am to remain?" I ask cooly, keeping my voice emotionless.

He gives no answer and my frustration sparks.

White-hot anger begins to boil within me and I feel my hands clench into fists at my sides.

"Tell me why, Elrohir," I grind out, struggling and failing to keep my voice even, my mind swimming as I stare at him.

There is pity in his eyes, but also knowing as he rests a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

"Trust me, Celé. It's for the best that you do not know."

I try to cool my head but rage and frustration slowly consume the spaces of my heart that held joy only a few moments ago. I had never been good at controlling my anger, my fiery temper earning me the title 'hot-headed' from the rest of my family. That notorious anger now eats at my mind, clouding my vision as I stare at the ground, the world spiralling around me.

The thought of not being able to go to her, after nearly four months of torment and pain at the hands of the orcs, threatens to consume me.

I will not be left behind.

"Please don't make this anymore difficult than it already is," Elrohir says softly yet sternly, sensing my simmering rage.

Some small part of my anger recoils at the evident restraint in his eyes. He seems to fight an inner battle with himself, wanting to explain everything to me but for some unknown reason, protecting me from the truth.

Giving me one last sympathetic gaze and squeezing my shoulder reassuringly, Elrohir turns to head back into the stables. I feel a twinge of guilt stir in my heart but the vicious anger quickly consumes it, a fire burning everything in its path.

And the thin leash on my temper snaps.

"No," I snarl, my lips pulling back to reveal bared teeth as my seething eyes burn into his. "I don't care what Ada said, I'm coming with you."

He swiftly turns back to face me with a fiery gaze, all compassion and regret gone from his face.

His grey eyes flash with subdued anger as he growls at me, "That's enough, Celebríel."

The sudden fire in his eyes fades, glazed over by a layer of frost as he commands coldly, "You will stay here. No objections."

And with that final, condemning order he walks away, leaving me alone as the sky begins to grow dark. My anger continues to burn hot as the sun blazes its descent across the sky and I pace the ground, running my muddied hands through my golden hair in frustration as I attempt to cool my head to no avail.

Yet time passes, the sun eventually dipping its weary head below the horizon, and my anger begins to sputter, and slowly fades as my body tires, its flame doused by a cool, quiet silence.

And when the stars begin to peek out of the sky, flickering with distant light, their soft whispers echo within my heart; reminding me that even though I cannot go to her, after months in the lonely darkness, my mother was finally coming home.