This Chapter's Music

Tonight would be Mereth Nuin Giliath: The Feast of Starlight.

It was a precious tradition amongst the Woodland elves to celebrate the full moon, and as it would be my first time sharing it with them, I wished to look the part.

I had a brought, but had not yet worn, several fine gowns from Lorien. Upon entering the Woodland realm, it was obvious to me that the majority of its elves donned clothing set for travel in the woods and fighting. I felt I would be terribly out of place wearing finery amongst them, and so I had always chosen my plainest of dress, or even a tunic and leather leg coverings, as Tauriel would wear. But for this night, many of the Elves would wear a finer garb, and so I thought it respectful to do the same.

Tauriel was visiting me in my chamber, looking at my fine gowns, which I took out of my carrying basket, one at a time.

"I think you would look very beautiful in this green," I told her. "Wear it."

"Oh, no! It is too much for me. I would wear my normal things."

"Well, I would not want you to be uncomfortable. But, it could be great fun to surprise Feren when you join the feast wearing this. I could do your hair..."

She looked down in the sweet, shy fashion that somehow befit the Captain of the Guard. "Well...maybe it might be enjoyable."

I grinned, siezing the chance. "Wonderful."

And so I helped her with her dress, and her long hair I unbranded and let fall loose all about her.

"Perhaps I shall pin a little of it away from your face," I said, twisting some at the sides and securing it there. "Yes. That is lovely, indeed. You are magnificent. Oh! Here..."

I dug through my things for a necklace with an emerald stone, then I strung it upon her neck. "Ooh, you are a sight. Feren will not be able to stand upright when he sees you," I teased, and she blushed.

"Thank you, My Lady. Truly... for everything. Everything you have done for me, for our kingdom. For our king. You have changed things for the better by your being here. It is lighter and there is more hope. Even the king's moods seem improved."

"Well. I have become quite attached to this realm, Tauriel. Indeed it feels like it is truly my home. And I have grown to care so much for all of you. You are some of the bravest and strongest elves I have ever known. I am proud to call myself a citizen of the Woodland Realm."

"And we are proud to have you. Especially me, for, if I may be so bold, My Lady, I feel I have a sister in you...and I have always wanted a sister."

"You do," I said, cupping her face. "And now...sister of Mirkwood, I shall ready myself. Would you help me?"

"Yes, of course."

Being that it was a festival of the moon, I thought perhaps a white dress would be nice. I chose one with silver braiding beneath the bodice and at the waist. The sleeves opened loosely and flowed about my arms.

My hair, which fell to the base of my back, was only a few shades darker than the white of the dress. There needed to be something that stood out, and so I placed about my head some sapphire flowers, and chose a silver necklace of the same stone. They matched my eyes nicely.

My hair had only the slightest wave, but I was pleased enough with it to leave it loose.

"Well... how do I look?" I asked Tauriel.

"As the starlight,
My Lady...my Uncle was not wrong about you."

I smiled. "Thank you. Now let us go and enjoy our feast!"

---

The great cavern hall was alight with festivity. There had been more of the orange lights placed all around, and there were platters piled high with fruits and cheeses and breads upon every table.

And of course there was wine--a great many bottles of it.

When we entered the feast, Feren wasted no time in approaching Tauriel.

"You...wear a dress," he said to her, stunned. "And your hair..."

At once I could see her uncertainty, and thankfully so could Feren, who rushed to add, "you are beautiful, Tauriel I...I cannot express it."

Well done, I thought, seeing the happy blush in her cheeks again.

Feren asked her to sit down and she followed, turning her head back to smile at me. I returned the gesture reassuringly.

"You have dressed up my Captain," said the king, and I smiled before turning to face him.

"I have. And she has never looked happier, for it is quite nice to be told you are beautiful once in a while. And she looks very beautiful."

"Yes, and so do you. I dare say you rival the subject of our feast, Lady Laewyn...the moon is jealous."

"Ah..." I lowered my gaze, for I was quite flattered, and the heat that rose to my own cheeks would most certainly be visible to him. "And you are..."

"Yes?" he tilted his head, smirking expectantly.

"You are extremely fair, My Lord, but you are also well aware of it," I said, laughing now.

"Am I? Even so, it is quite nice to be told," he said, mimicking me.

"I am glad you've taken something I say to heart."

"I take many of the things you tell me to heart, Lady Laewyn... unless, of course I disagree with them entirely, in which case I do not."

"Yes, well, how am I to discern which is which?"

"You cannot tell by now?"

I contemplated this briefly and realized, "Yes, I suppose I can, My Lord."

"Indeed. And what of all this revelry? Shall we join them?" he said, motioning to a central table.

I nodded and went to sit down, and the king took hold of the bottle of wine at our table, pouring a large goblet, first for me, then himself.

He sat down beside me and leaned in, speaking close to my ear. "My elves enjoy wine almost as much as their king," he said. I quelled a shudder.

"I can see that. But in truth, it is justified, as it is the finest wine I've yet to taste. And the stoutest."

"I make sure of that. I am very particular about our wine. And
.." He glared at a half-drunk cup at another table, "I do detest when they waste it."

"Well, I suppose it is good to know one's limits."

"It is," he said, looking at me then. "It is good to know where control ends. Lest we be overtaken."

I stared at him, his eyes suddenly very intent upon me. "Yes," I said.

Then he broke his gaze and turned once again to his elves.

After a while, one of the elves stood up and, a little too loudly, said, "Let us have some music! Would no one play today? Cerilir...where is our harpest?"

"He is passed out in his plate," said Feren of the harp player, and we all laughed to see the elf quite asleep over his food. He had most certainly not wasted his wine.

"Lady Laewyn," started Gurdis, "but you sing, do you not? The great songs of Lorien? Your people are known for the beauty of their music. Will you sing for us? Know you any of the moon...or the stars?"

I gathered myself a moment, being a bit surprised by the request, but she was right. My people were known for the resplendence of their song. There was not one of us who had not been raised to sing as a way of marking many things.

"Of the stars...yes," I said, finally. "I have one." Although, it had been so very long I could not recall when or how I had learned it, nor even who taught it to me, only that I sang it to myself often when walking the paths of Lothlorien, even as a child. Suddenly, missing my glowing trees, I said, "Yes, I shall sing it for you."

And so I stood, and walked to the center of the elves. I would represent the kingdom of my birth with honor.

I began to sing in the great cavern, my voice echoing from its vast walls, which were ideal for such things.

"A thousand stars, I've gathered for you, dear.

The blackest night, has come, and, though you fear

My arms are full with starlight, I am here...

In glowing, In glowing.

Come close, love, for night has lost its power,

The stars above, and now below devour.

Lament and sorrow, fear and sadness die,

Beneath the night, beneath the starry sky

In glowing, In glowing."

I finished the song, and smiled at the elves, who looked very pleased, indeed. But then I saw the king, whose eyes and cheeks were wetted with tears. He looked at me, and yet it seemed that he was not looking at me at all-- more through me, as if he had seen a ghost there.

"Oh, My Lady, I knew you ought to sing," said Gurdis. "That was most beautiful. Your people sing as the heavens themselves."

"You are very kind, Gurdis, thank you. But I shall return to my seat now. Perhaps someone else will sing? Or recite a poem..."

While they determined who might entertain them next, I took a seat again at the table, and King Thranduil, who had yet to take his eyes from me, said in a voice most odd, "Laewyn... where did you learn that song?"

"I...I do not know, My Lord. I learned it as a child. Why do you ask?"

"Because I have heard it before."

"Have you? I do not recall its origins, so it may not be of my people. Where have you heard it?"

"From my wife."

"Oh...she sang it?"

He stared at me, his face riddled with a perplexity I could not read. Then he said,
"She wrote it."

With this, my own expression turned to amazement. "My Lord? Her...her song must have traveled very far indeed."

His eyes flickered downward in thought fixing upon the table. "Yes. Somehow. It must have," he answered. Then he said, "Laewyn, we will meet after the feast for a lesson, as I said last night. Are you still agreeable to this?"

"Yes, My Lord."

He turned from me then, taking his wine in hand and pulling from it in a long drink.

He spoke little else for the rest of the feast.

---

I waited in my chamber for his knock.

I had excused myself from the festivities, which had gone long into the night, and retreated to my thoughts, giving my mind time to recover from the strong wine.

The king's behavior at the feast had unarmed me. Where at first he had been social and friendly, my song seemed to set him into one of his quiet moods. I could not help but feel guilty for this. More than once had I somehow instigated his detachment, though, truly I had not tried, nor anticipated it in any way.

I was surprised that he wished to try healing with me at all, in his current state. But he had asked for it.

In honesty, I wished to be near him again, and this filled me with even more guilt. For I knew it was not honorable, my thinking of him in such a way, and yet I felt such a pull, from the very center of my chest, drawing me towards him, wishing to be close, desiring to feel even the merest of his touches.

I would torture myself with it--with him, it seemed, and this manner of thinking.

Mid the turmoil of my thoughts, there came a soft knocking.

Taking a steadying breath, I opened my door.

The king had changed clothing, from his formal robes to a simple one. He wore no wooded crown, nor even a silver ringed one. Indeed he was more plain than I had before seen him, and yet he was still so very beautiful to behold, in a way that glowed forth from him always.

"Come in, My Lord."

He crossed silently to my bed and sat upon its side, as we had the night before. Again I took a place beside him, and turned to face him, one leg tucked beneath me and the other dangling from the bedside. It was not the most proper of positions, but to face him correctly, I had few better choices.

He noted my maneuvering and, realizing it was effective, mirrored me. This left little space between us. And I was acutely aware that, in this way, our legs touched.

I said nothing, only held out my hand, palm-side-up, as I had before. He laid his own own upon it.

The king closed his eyes, but he did not pray aloud. I felt the urge to close my own eyes, too, waiting for the warmth of his healing to enter my hand, and so I did, bowing my head a little.

But the warmth did not come. Instead, I felt his hand leave my own and move to my face, brushing his fingers over my cheek. I opened my eyes.

"The scar is gone," he said. Then, he drew the back of his hand along my jaw, and slowly down my neck, where he brushed, gently, the skin at its base with his fingertips.

I could not catch my breath, I was trembling so. Instinctively, I closed my eyes again, overcome, but unable to look at him for the closeness of it.

His touch, it was only feather light, but it burned. It burned. I was burning.

My hand, which had been grasping my bed, I now lifted, placing it upon the hidden wounds of his face.

I did not call upon grace, then. I simply caressed his skin, and then I dared look at him.

It was his turn, now, to shut his eyes, his lips parted, his own breathing ragged, and he leaned forward to press his forehead to mine.

"Laewyn..." he spoke in a shaking, almost pained voice.

"My King," I whispered.

His breath was warm upon my lips, for his own mouth had neared mine, then pulled away a little, only to draw in close again...as one fighting with himself.

Every time he neared my lips, the feeling moved me toward him, and my own lips remained parted, aching for him to end this torment and taste me at last.

"Laewyn," he shuddered my name.
"I cannot. I cannot."

"No, My Lord," my better sense said, even as our heads still touched.

"I cannot, Laewyn, for I am bound. Our spirits," he breathed. "For all time."

My eyes welled with the anguish of his words, and with my own agony. "No, My Lord," I said, my voice breaking.

"I cannot. I am bound to her."

"I know," I wept, and he touched the tip of my nose with his own.

"Then why," he spoke through nearly clenched teeth and wavering resolve, "do I long for you?!" His fingers sunk into my
my hair and held it. "And why do you weep?"

"I do not know, My Lord." I raised my free hand and laid it upon his chest, though I did not know for certain if this was to bring him closer or to push him away, for he was so torn, and he had bound his soul to another. I was not helping him. I was not...

"Why do you weep?" he said, a breath from my lips. "Do I frighten you?"

"No," I said. "You do not."

"Tell me."

"I...dare not say, My Lord," I pleaded, blind with tears.

"I command it," he said.

So, unable to avoid it any longer, I brushed my forehead against his and lifted my eyes to him. "I am sorry...but I love you. I love you, My Lord. I love you," I said, crying openly.

At this confession, he exhaled a shaking breath and groaned in defeat, and his lips claimed mine, parting them and taking me in a kiss that was too much to absorb. It was too fast, but somehow painfully slow, it was broken, then deep and deeper still. His tongue rolled against my own in a way that his body seemed to match

I buried both my hands in his hair, meeting the hunger of his kiss with all of mine. I thought that I might die from it, until the sudden loss of his lips, of his hands, left me bewildered and wild eyed.

He had pulled away-- lunged backwards from me and stood up, as if I were a flame that had burned him.

"No!" He shook his head. "No." He looked stricken.

"My Lord," I said, gathering my wits. "Oh, My Lord..."

I knew not what to say, or how. I was ashamed.

He took on a look of desperate consideration. Then he said, "You are too much like her. I... I am driven mad by it, I think. I imagine things..."

"What do you mean?"

"I do not know, " he said.

"Please," I stood up and neared him, desperate to make things right.

"No. Laewyn." He shook his head and his eyes turned blank. Then he was calm. "You must go."

"But...you are in my chamber, My Lord."

"No, Laewyn. You must go home."

"What?"

"You must leave here," he said, dazed. "You cannot remain in Mirkwood. I am sorry."

"Leave? My Lord... Leave Mirkwood?" I repeated, unbelieving.

"Yes. You must go home."

"But...I am home. Where you are king, that is my home. I do not know why, but it is true."

"Do not say that!" he pleaded.

"And what of the orcs, and...and your people... they are my people...this is my hom--"

"I am sorry," he interrupted me, gone hard and cold. "Thank you for everything you have done here, but you must ready your things. You will leave with the light," he said, crossing to my door. He paused before it, offering only a slight turn of his head toward me...but he did not meet my eyes. "You will forgive me...I will not be there when you leave." Then, "I am sorry."

And he left me alone there, staring into the dark until at last I choked on a gasping cry, and my legs went out from under me.

I slipped into a heap upon the floor, and there I cried until I had no more tears left in me.

---

Chapter 10, coming soon!