Chapter Thirteen: Elenna

The birds sounded annoyingly happy on this bright morning, I thought as I crammed my sleep gown into my pack. The gown sprang back out, taunting me, like a merry little mouse popping from its hole. “Stay in there!” I snapped as I punched it back to its place.  I pushed my brush down into the side of the jumbled mess of clothing and personal items and was mildly pleased that it stayed where I had put it. Still, I could not shake my annoyance with the process of packing for the long trip back home. I simply did not want to do this.

I sighed heavily and went over to the window of the bedroom I had used at my Aunt’s cottage. Pushing aside the window covering, I glanced out at the early morning and restrained myself from shouting at the birds to cease their happy song. What was there to be joyous about? My life was in ruins!

Just weeks ago, I had come to the stronghold with my father to see the king, and I expected nothing more than a pleasant trip to see the main village. Little did I know that I would see my whole world tossed into an upheaval. And it was entirely my fault! How could I have been so foolish?

What I had dreamed of for so long had finally been within my grasp, and I not only let it slip away, but I had thrown it away with my own pride and foolishness! I dropped my head into my hands and felt the tears that I had thought were done rise once again to my eyes. Everything had gone wrong, terribly wrong.

Slowly, I went back to the bed and sat down next to my bag. Little sleep had come to me the night before, and I felt exhaustion tugging at me as insistently as a child wanting his mother’s attention. I had cried myself into dropping off for a few moments, only to be awakened by angry dreams and disoriented scenes of people and spiders that I could not make sense of.

On the table at the side of the bed, I saw a book I had put there myself. I simply sat staring at it as if the answers to all my problems could be found between its covers. Inside the book was the yellow flower Aldamir had given me the night of our walk to the river. Gently, I took up the slender volume, allowing my fingers to feel the grain of old leather having grown soft from repeated use. Love and gentle hands had cared for this small book of poetry. Taking a shaky breath, I opened it to find the flower exactly where I had placed it, pressed between a folded parchment. The color of the bloom had not faded, and the petals were still supple. I held it to my nose, but found the fragrance had faded to nothing more than a sweet memory.

I snapped the book closed and dropped it on the table. Was I going to close this part of my life as simply as a used book? I could not bear the thought of leaving without seeing Aldamir again. But he would not wish to see me, I was certain. I had said many awful things to him the night before, things I did not mean. I had not wanted to believe that Calith had lied to me.

My chest felt as if it would collapse from want of air when I thought about our argument.  The shock of hearing that Calith had lied was enough, but then, I reacted childishly and vehemently in his defense. When I was removed from the heat of the moment, and able to view what had happened without anger, I could see that Aldamir was indeed telling me the truth. Though I thought nothing of it at the time, I could see now that Calith’s reaction when Aldamir asked me to walk was not that of someone who cared about my happiness or wellbeing. Calith was not fearful for me, but for himself. And when Aldamir pulled me back against him and told Calith that he would he watching him, I realized that Aldamir acted out of love for me; Calith did not. What a fool I had been!

If destroying Aldamir’s feelings for me was not enough, I was also sick with guilt over matters I should have told Aldamir about immediately, weeks ago. Despite my anguish about Aldamir, my romantic difficulties paled in comparison to the knowledge I had withheld from him.  Misguided loyalty caused me to stumble in doing what I knew was right. Again, I had allowed other people to influence me. I had no excuse for my weakness; I should have seen the possible dangers of my silence. I had to tell Aldamir all I knew even if my confession meant I would be hauled before the king to confirm to him that I was indeed the fool that I am sure he thought me to be. If I did not, then I would be acting with the same deceitfulness than I so despised in Calith.

Angrily, I snapped the flap of my bag shut, tugging on it to make the strap ends meet. As soon as I got the upper ones under control, the bottom ones would slip from my grasp. Finally, in frustration, I flung the bag backward across the bed and the same errant gown of earlier tumbled like a loose sheet onto the floor. I stared at the white, wispy bunch of cloth with pale green ribbons twirled across the floor and knew that I would not leave without setting right what should have been done long before this point.

I snatched the parchment containing the dried flower from the bed and slid it into my pocket. I would tell him all. I would no longer carry the secrets of fools. And I was firmly in the middle of this fraudulent gaggle. No longer would I bear this burden!

My aunt called to me as I marched through the sitting room of her cottage toward the door. “I will be back soon,” was all I replied as I continued on my quest. May all forgive me, but I would not be swayed this time.

The morning was still young, but hopefully, Aldamir was in his office in the palace. I knew not where else to look for him, but someone there would know where to find him if he was not. The further I walked, the faster my steps became. I had to get to him. Even if he would have nothing further to do with me, I would see him once more and confess all I knew. I prayed for mercy and strength from the Valar. Only they knew how much I would need it.

As I crossed the Green, I was nearly running toward the Great Steps. I passed Elves as they went about their day and some spoke, but I had no time or interest in politeness. Taking the steps as quickly as I could, I came to the open doors of the palace. I paused to see if the guards would stop me, but they did not.

Once inside the Grand Entry, I stopped abruptly and looked around me. Other than the Great Hall, I had never been in the palace. Tall delicately carved columns reached to the high, polished ceiling all around me. The doors to the Great Hall were closed and two guards stood on either side of them. A corridor stretched out in front of me. Two more guards were stationed there. To my right, another long corridor went off along the side of the Great Hall. And to my left, yet another corridor extended as far as I could see. Straightening my shoulders as if I were confident of my being in this place, I walked steadily to the guards at the corridor in front of me. I could see tapestries and doors and finely carved furniture in this hallway and then another set of doors that were closed. Two more guards stood there.

“Excuse me,” I said to one of the guards. “I would like to see Lord Aldamir. Could you tell me how I might find him?”

The guard glanced to the other one and then back to me. “I will take you to his aide. He can help you.”

“Thank you,” I said breathlessly, as if a great weight had been taken from me.

“Please follow me,” he said and started down the corridor. I followed silently, realizing that my footsteps were sinking into a deeply piled carpet runner that ran the length of the corridor. My heart was pounding and my mouth had gone completely dry, but I took in a cleansing breath of air and went onward.

Halfway down the hallway, he stopped at a door and turned to me. “This is Lord Aldamir’s office. His aide is in.”  Opening the door, he motioned me in.

An Elf dressed in the garb of a woodland warrior looked up from a desk and then stood as the guard and I entered. “The mistress would like to see Lord Aldamir,” the guard said.

The warrior behind the desk smiled at me, and I felt slightly less nervous, but not enough to stop the shaking I felt inside. He nodded to the guard. “You may go.” The guard saluted him and backed out the door, closing it quietly.

“I am Culalda, Lord Aldamir’s aide,” he said, coming around the desk. “How may I help you?”

“I wish to see Lord Aldamir,” I said, my voice shaking more than I would have liked.

“I am sorry, mistress, but he is not here. Is there something that I could help you with?” he asked kindly.

At that point my knees went completely weak, and I felt as if all my courage had fled me, leaving me nothing more than a brittle shell on the brink of breaking. “No,” I whispered. I suddenly became aware of the hand on my elbow as Culalda directed me to a chair and motioned me to sit. “When do you expect him back?” I asked meekly, barely having the strength left to speak.

“I am afraid he will not be back until tomorrow or possibly even the day after. He is in the field,” Culalda told me.

Without warning, tears filled my eyes. I blinked in an attempt to tame them, but one escaped before I could stop it. I wiped it quickly from my cheek.

“Mistress,” Culalda said softly, “would you like some tea or a glass of water?”

“No, thank you,” I said as I stared at my hands in my lap.

Culalda squatted next to the chair. “Are you certain that there is nothing I can do? Would you like to see Lord Seregon? He is here.”

My lips formed the beginning of a refusal, but then I remembered that there was more to my quest to find Aldamir than my personal interest. I found my resolve again. I nodded. “Yes, thank you. If he is willing, I would like to speak to him.”

“Then I will only be a few moments,” he said as he stood.

True to his word, Culalda was indeed only gone for a less than a minute. He smiled slightly and held out his hand. “Please follow me. Lord Seregon will see you.”

We went only a short ways down the corridor and turned into another office that looked very much like Aldamir’s. “I am Elendur,” a warrior there said. “I am Lord Seregon’s aide. He will see you now.”

Again my heart was racing and my head felt light, but I followed Elendur into an adjoining office where Seregon stood behind his desk, his face completely unreadable. “You may go,” he said to his aide while watching me. Elendur closed the door, and I was suddenly alone with Seregon. My heart began to race again.  Motioning to a chair in front of his desk, he said, “Please, Elenna, be seated.”

“Thank you,” I said softly.

“What can I do for you?” he asked. I brought my gaze up to him, trying to gauge what he was feeling, knowing that he most likely was angry with me for what I had done. I felt he was closed and cautious. I found this no surprise.

“I came to see Ald…Lord Aldamir,” I corrected. “But he is not here.”

Seregon said nothing, waiting for me to continue. I truly wanted to go on, but the words were hard to form now that I was faced with telling him what I knew. But I had determined to do what I believed was right, and I would do so.

“There is something that I think you…the king…the commander should know,” I said carefully but still, I stumbled over the words.

“What is that?” he asked mildly.

“I know where the red-banded spiders came from,” I blurted out, simply to get to the heart of what I had to say and be done with it.

A look of shock crossed his face, but it quickly faded into a neutral expression. “Where?” he asked simply.

“Only a few Elves know of this,” I said, “and I came by this knowledge on the journey to the stronghold, as did my father,” I added quickly.

“What is it that you learned?” he asked.

“First,” I said, shakily, “you must know that they meant well. What they did, they did because they thought that it would benefit all. Truly, I wanted to tell Aldamir. I thought that the ones involved should do so themselves, but my father had sworn that he would not reveal this to anyone and he did not want me involved. Then Calith learned of this when he came and he did not think I should say anything either….”

“Wait!” Lord Seregon said, holding up his hand. “Slow down and start at the beginning.”

I took a deep breath and swallowed hard. “As I am sure you know, the web of a spider is useful in stopping bleeding,” I said as slowly as I could, but I still felt like my words were keeping pace with the racing of my heart. “There is a spider that is common in the western woodlands called a silk spinner. It is small, and somewhat aggressive, but no bigger than a brown garden spider.” I stopped for a moment to see if he was following me. He nodded and I went on. “The web it spins is stronger than other spiders, and there is something about it that stops blood flowing from a wound much more rapidly than other webs. Wounds also seem to heal more quickly when the silk spinner’s web is used. But the silk spinners are few and the web is hard to find. The web is actually strong enough to carefully weave into small bandages, but the web is so rare that there is not enough to offer much help.”

“What does this spider have to do with the red-banded spiders?” Seregon asked, impatiently.

“The silk spinner is kin to the red-banded spiders,” I said.

“Kin? What do you mean?” he asked as his brow wrinkled.

“Some of the healers of Calendon’s village thought that they could obtain more of the web if the spiders were larger. Not only would the amount be increased, but also the strength of the web. A few of the foresters aided them and they have been breeding these spiders to grow larger and more productive.”

“They deliberately bred the red-banded spiders?” Seregon spat out, his eyes narrowed with anger.

“Not exactly,” I told him, suddenly wishing to not be alone with this angry warrior. “They cross-bred many generations of silk spinners, choosing the largest and heartiest of each clutch, but they still did not obtained the size they desired. So they thought to cross-breed them with the giant black spiders that had come to the woods. I understand it was difficult, but they were able to obtain what they needed from a male black spider and then kill him before he could…do whatever he does. Then they placed this on the web pads of the smaller spider and this male spider then mixed his…his…”

“His what?” Seregon snapped.

“His…fluid,” I mumbled. Seregon’s brow wrinkled as he stared wide-eyed at me as if I had gone completely mad. “Then,” I went on, “the smaller male injected this mixture into the female.”

Seregon had gone pale by this time, and I was sure that I was red as a ripe summer berry judging by the heat I felt on my cheeks.

“And this produced the red-banded spiders?” he asked finally.

“Not at first,” I said. “It took many generations, but instead of stopping when they were finally producing a spider about the size of a hand, they continued to use the giant spider’s…fluid because many of the hatched clutches did not reproduce and then suddenly they had a clutch hatch that no longer resembled the small silk spinners, but instead they had bred a clutch of giant spiders that were aggressive and more like the black spiders.”  As I watched him, I thought he appeared as if he were nearly ready to jump from his chair. “The spiders were so large and aggressive, that they escaped.” I smiled grimly. “No Elves were harmed in the escape, but they were quite frightened.”

“Not as frightened as they will be when the king finds out!” Seregon yelled as he sprang from his chair.

I was startled by his sudden outburst and automatically stood as he did, but he turned back to me and waved his hand. “Oh, sit down, Elenna.” He wiped his hand over his face. “Why did they not tell us? Why did they not tell the western patrol?”

“The escape was the point at which Calendon came to Adar and told him that the spider situation was so bad that the time had come to go to the king for help. Adar thought that Calendon was talking about the ordinary black spiders and indeed, Adar thinks now that this is what Calendon wanted him to believe. They had discussed the black spiders in the past, and Adar did agree that the black spiders had multiplied beyond our ability to handle them. It was only on the journey here that Calendon told us about the red-banded spiders. He swore an oath to Adar that the experiments had ceased and that the healers and foresters were destroying everything to do with them.  Calendon told us that they suspected that the red-banded spiders would not be capable of reproduction and that in their experience with the cross-bred spiders, they found that the lifespan was significantly shorter. They believed the spiders would simply die out quickly. He pleaded with Adar to keep this between them. He promised Adar that nothing like this would ever happen again. Adar gave him his word that he would not reveal this to anyone as long as Calendon and his villagers held to their promise.”

“Why have you waited so long to tell us this?”  Seregon asked. “And why now?”

“I wanted to tell Aldamir, especially after I heard that his youngest brother had been bitten. I went to my father when I heard about Legolas’s injury and begged him to tell the king. He was adamant that Calendon was responsible for this situation and that it was he who should tell the king. Adar still did not want me involved. He and Calendon had a heated disagreement, and I am not sure exactly what was decided, if anything. But I had decided that I would tell Aldamir when I saw him on the morning he returned from going to see the novices. Then Calith arrived….

Seregon sighed heavily and sat down in his chair, rubbing his forehead. “I have to tell the king,” he said. I thought he seemed regretful that he would have to reveal to the king the news I had brought, but I understood that it was his duty. News such as this could not be ignored.

“I know,” I said softly.

He sat up straight. “How could this have happened, Elenna?  I am no master in the ways of the heart, but I had thought that you truly loved Aldamir.”

 My heart was once again pounding against my chest, and I felt the sting of tears rising. I tried to stop them, but I could feel them coming like a swollen stream. “I am a fool, my lord,” I said softly. “I have no other defense.”

“What will you do about this?” he asked me.

“I think there is little that I can do,” I said. “I have squandered Aldamir’s love, and his trust, and I deserve nothing but his scorn. Please understand, I never meant to hurt him. The outlying villages can be lonely for those of us who have not found our mates, my lord. There are few of us who are young and many of the males become warriors, leaving even fewer of us as we come of age.  I have known Calith since we were children. Though we were friends from an early age, I never thought of him as someone I would wish to bond with. But as I grew into adulthood and for long afterwards, I came to despair of finding anyone who made my heart sing and my being come alive. I was fond of Calith even though my parents and friends did not regard him highly. But I found him bright and knowledgeable about many subjects, and we spent long hours simply talking, turning our thoughts and desires around and around like a crystal, gazing for each color of the prism, searching for the exact one that would reveal to us a deeper truth.  He had few friends, but so did I. I thought of him as only a friend, and thought he viewed me the same way.”

“And when he proposed, you did not see that he was more serious than you had thought?”  Seregon asked.

“He proposed to me just before we traveled to the stronghold, and I knew even then that I did not love him as I hoped that I would someday love someone. But by that time I had lost hope that true love would ever come to me. If life with Calith could be pleasant and comfortable, perhaps that was the best I could hope for. For a moment, I convinced myself that I could be happy with him. And truly, my lord, I did care for him. When he asked me, I did not know what to say. I did not wish to hurt him by refusing, and I was not ready to entirely reject the idea either. I had no hope that what my heart truly desired lay at the end of my journey, and there I would find something stronger and more wonderful than even the brightest moments of my dreams. In my dazed joy, it never occurred to me that Calith would not understand. I thought he would rejoice with me that I had found such happiness.”

After a moment of silence, Seregon asked, “By your own admission, you do not love Calith; he is of little matter. What do you want, Elenna?”

My heart was heavy at that point, and the burden of carrying its weight within me was more than I had the strength to bear. Truly, I simply wanted to lie down and sleep until all the entanglements of my life had unknotted themselves. I was exhausted, spent from heartache, worry, anger and fear. I had little left to offer myself or anyone else. “What do I want?” I repeated softly. “Peace of mind,” I said. “I cannot not ask for anything more, I do not think.”

“All is not lost,” he said mildly.

I smiled sadly, feeling the faint winging of a deep sorrow gently lift the corners of my mouth as if it had nowhere else to go. “My heart is lost, my lord. My life as I knew it is lost. All that I have valued, I have let slip from me. I have shamed myself and my family by my actions. And I stand prepared to answer for it.”

Lord Seregon stood and came to me. I did not have the strength left to stand as he did. I simply sat with my head bowed and staring at nothing, feeling the powerful burn of threatening tears. He knelt at my side and placed his hands on the arm of the chair. “Elenna,” he said quietly, “do not give up hope. Tell Aldamir all the things you have just told me. He is hurt, but he will listen. You might find that he feels much the same as you.”

“I am the cause of his hurt,” I said. “How can he ever believe me again?”

“Only he can answer that,” he said, “but I think that you might find he is willing to forgive more than you think.”

A small glimmer of hope ignited in my chest and flickered in want of more. I lifted my head to look at Seregon, but I found that I was afraid to say anything. I did not want to destroy this small token.

“Aldamir will return tomorrow or the following morning,” he said. “You will see him then.”

“But we will be gone,” I protested. “We are leaving in a few hours.”

Lord Seregon stood and smiled kindly. “I do not think so, mistress Elenna,” he said as extended his hand to me. “Come. Let us go tell this incredible story to the king.”

I took his hand to rise, but my legs remained weak and shaky. He must have sensed my unsteadiness for he paused a moment to allow me to gain my footing. With a strong hand to my elbow, he slowly led me out into his aide’s office. “I will be with the king,” Seregon said as we passed through.

Suddenly I found myself retracing my earlier steps back out toward the Grand Entry. We left the soft walkway of the carpeted corridor, and I felt a second of surprise when my feet once again touched the solid, smooth stone of the Entry. Seregon took me to the door of the Great Hall and nodded to the guards. Each guard grasped a door handle and swung open the doors for us to enter. I could not breathe. Seregon did not release me from his grasp. I thought I should have felt frightened by this, but instead, I felt grateful that his strength would not allow me to falter.

At the back of the Hall, seated along benches were a few Elves, awaiting an audience with the king, I supposed. Other Elves, attendants to the king by their busy crisscrossing of the floor, carried on as if the commander’s second in command and a nervous slip of an elleth would not halt their duties. A few slowed to acknowledge the presence of Lord Seregon, but for me, there were only a few wary glances cast in my direction.

Seregon continued toward the center of the Hall where I saw that the doors to the Throne Room were thrown open and there, seated upon his throne was the king, listening to a courtier. Seregon came to a halt at the edge of a deep forest green runner. I nearly stumbled over him, so transfixed were my eyes at seeing the king seated on the throne. Thranduil wore a mithril crown interwoven with summer greenery and a scattering of tiny golden flowers. The deep green and brown of his silken formal robes seemed to proclaim his strength as surely as did the cool eyes that he settled upon us when we approached.

My mind carried swiftly back to the last time I had been in this room. I was a guest, seated next to Aldamir, falling in love with him at that very minute, and now I stood before the king feeling like a criminal. All I had to keep me from falling on my face in fear was Seregon’s strong grip on my arm and my determined but shaky resolve to see this through.

Once the attendant had completed what he was saying, the king waved him away. He fixed his gaze on us again and studied us for a very long moment. Seregon was straight and unreadable as he waited the king’s signal to approach. I could barely stay on my feet.

Finally, the king motioned us forward. My feet felt like heavy boulders as I tried to move them. Seregon tightened his grasp and gently pulled me forward. I do not think I have ever walked so far in my life; a short distance became thousands of leagues. As we approached the throne, Seregon stopped just past the mid-way and dropped to one knee, gently tugging at me. I curtsied deeply and held myself there. I heard the king give us leave to approach him, but I did not move until Seregon again urged me to do so. When we came to a stop at the foot of the raised throne, I did not look up at the king. I could not. My eyes could focus on nothing as fear and tears swam in my watery view.

“My lord,” Seregon said, “there is something that I would discuss with you in private if it so pleases you.”

The king paused for so long, that I finally slid my eyes upward to see him. He gazed at us dispassionately, but with a look in his eyes that made me hasten to look down again. Finally, he said, “Come to my office.” I could hear the king stand and descend the steps. I moved at Seregon’s urging and simply went where he led me.

We followed the king through the back of the throne room and through another door. An attendant jumped to his feet in the office we entered, but we simply passed him by as we trailed behind the soft rustle of the king’s robes. Seregon came to a halt and I stopped, leaning slightly into his side as if he would somehow offer me protection. I knew that he would not; I was on my own now that I was in front of the king, but I could not help wishing for someone to take this away from me.

The king seated himself behind a large ornately carved desk. Again he simply looked at us, before he spoke. “Be seated,” he said. Seregon directed me to a chair in front of the desk. I sat, but still could not control the quaking of my knees. I pressed them together and tried to breathe.

“What is it that you wish to discuss?” the king asked.

“My lord,” Seregon began, “Mistress Elenna has come to me this morning with some important information regarding the villagers and the recent red-banded spider attacks.”

“Indeed,” the king said. “What would this information be?”

Still unable to look up, I was greatly relieved when Seregon did not require me to explain to the king what I had told him. He repeated the tale as I attempted to remain composed. I reminded myself that I had done the right thing, and that I could withstand whatever anger the king might direct toward me.

When Seregon completed what he had to say, the silence was deafening. “Is this true?” the king asked, his voice cold and angry. Seregon touched my arm to stir me.

“Yes, my lord,” I said softly. “Lord Seregon has repeated to you exactly what I told him.”

“And you witnessed this conversation between your father and Calendon?” the king asked.

“I did, my lord.”

“The fools!” he spat out. “What manner of Elf would be so mad as to tamper with nature?”

“The healers meant well,” I offered nervously.

“Meaning well does not excuse the folly of such an action,” the king snapped. “Healers especially should have better sense than to try to bend nature to their own will! There could only be unwanted or unexpected repercussions. There is no excuse for them not to see this. They are charged with the wellbeing of my people, not the insane meddling into the affairs of creation!”

I shrank further into my chair and remained silent.

“Does you adar know that you have come to me?” the king asked.

“No, my lord,” I answered softly. “I told no one that I was coming here.”

Thranduil jumped from his chair, startling me, but I attempted to rise anyway. I swayed but managed to gain my feet along side Seregon. “Send for the fools!” the king barked. “I want them in front of me as quickly as you can drag them here! Bring them to the Great Hall,” he ordered as he swept from the room.

“Elenna,” Seregon said softly, and when I merely stood frozen to the spot and did not respond, he repeated my name. I turned to him. “I will take you back to my office where you can wait while I send for the village leaders.” I nodded, feeling the slow fogginess of being trapped in a bad dream that would not end. “I know you are frightened and upset, but you have done the right thing,” he said kindly. “I do not know what the king thinks, but I can tell you that I understand how hard this was for you. You have risked much for the good of the realm. I do not believe that your courage will go unnoticed.”

“I do not feel brave,” I whispered. “I feel terrible.”

Seregon smiled as he took my elbow again to lead me from the king’s office. “You have been placed in an unfair position. To reveal this to the king did indeed take courage. Take heart, Elenna, I do not think you will be held to blame.”

“But I did not say anything,” I said as we entered the corridor. “I have waited until the king’s own son has been bitten by these awful spiders and until we had nearly left to return to our homes, villages now free of spiders because the king saw to our safety. I am ashamed of how long I have waited.”

Seregon stopped and tuned to me. “Elenna, your father tried to protect you by asking you to not get involved. He insisted that you remain silent. While his motives may have been admirable, he placed you in a difficult position. You had to disobey him to come to us. But Calendon bears the most blame. The king will see this.”

“How will I ever show my face in my own home again?” I asked. “I have betrayed my own father and the leader of our sister village.”

“The people of your village and the majority of the people of Calendon’s village do not know of this, am I right?” he asked.

“They do not know,” I said.

“Why do you think that is, Elenna?” he asked. “Calendon kept this a secret because he knew that he and his healers would meet with strong opposition. I have a feeling that your people will not see that they have anything to forgive you for.” At the door of his aide’s office, he stopped and turned to me once again. “From what I have seen of your father, I would guess that he will be relieved that this has been revealed as well. I am certain he will regret that you had to become involved to see done what he should have taken upon himself, but I do not think he will feel badly toward you.”

“I hope that you are right,” I said as we went through the door.

Elendur came to his feet. Seregon motioned me to chair. “Look after mistress Elenna while I attend some business for the king,” he told his aide. “Some tea would be nice, I think,” he smiled.

I had barely taken a sip of the tea Elendur had sent for, when Seregon reappeared at the door. “Come,” he said. “The leaders are in the Great Hall.”

The cup clattered as I quickly sat it back upon the saucer. I suddenly felt sick to my stomach again, but I stood and went to Seregon. As we walked into the corridor, I straightened my shoulders and took a deep breath. I had come this far and I would take the king’s judgment as steadily as I could. At that moment, I was suddenly grateful that Aldamir was not there to see me standing in wait of judgment before his father.

Instead of taking me into the Great Hall, Seregon escorted me back to the outer room of Thanduil’s office and bade me to sit. “Wait here,” he said and then left, swiftly and quietly, through the door into the back of the throne room. I glanced at the king’s aide and then back to the door. “What is happening?” I asked.

The aide put his quill down. “My guess is that the king will confront the leaders and give them a chance to tell him the truth. He will involve you only if necessary.”

“I cannot stand not knowing what is happening,” I said, my heart caught in my throat. “My adar is there.”

The aide rose and went to the door. Very quietly, he opened the door a few inches so that we could hear. “I do not think the king will mind. His intent is not to prevent you from knowing what is going on; he simply means to protect you.” He motioned to me. “Come, you can see a little of what is happening.”

Indeed, he was correct; I could see the back of the throne and my position was angled just enough to see my father and Calendon flanked by two warriors walking toward the king on the slender green rug. At the same place where Seregon and I had stopped, they did as well, both dropping to one knee.

“Rise,” the king said. “Approach the throne.”

Adar and Calendon went forward and stood at the bottom of the dais. Frantically, I searched my father’s face. I was surprised to see how calm he appeared. His face was serene and relaxed. However, Calendon did not look as confident. His eyes were wide and unblinking as he started up at the fearsome visage of an obviously angry king.

Thranduil did not speak for a moment, and I could not see his face. Sliding my hand into my pocket, I fingered the parchment with Aldamir’s flower in it, waiting anxiously for what the king would say. Adar stood straight and tall as he waited. Calendon seemed to be shrinking.

“Do either of you have anything to say in your defense for what has been happening in secret in your villages?” the king demanded.

My father’s shoulders relaxed. “I do, my lord,” he said.

“No,” Calendon said with a raised hand. His hand quivered slightly, but he seemed to take a breath that gave him courage. “This is my responsibility. I am the one who will answer the king.”

“Then do so,” I heard the king say sternly.

As I listened to Calendon confess about the spiders, I watched my father. His eyes were downcast as he listened intently. As far as I could see, his face was placid enough, but I could not help but feel horrified that he was there because of me. My heart ached for him.

“I am astounded at the foolishness of this,” I heard the king say. “But I am even more displeased that once you saw the errors of your experiments that you did not seek out the proper authorities immediately. You assumed much in your decisions to hide this from us. You thought that the spiders could not reproduce, but you did not know for certain. You thought that their life spans would be short, but you did not know for certain. And you thought that their venom would not be more virulent than the small silk spinner, but you did not know for certain,” he said his voice rising. “But what you did know was this clutch of spiders was loose in my kingdom and you did nothing! You have risked lives with your silence. Warriors were tied up searching for them. My commanders were pressed in trying to see them located and destroyed before anyone came to harm. Indeed, someone did come to harm. A group of novices and their masters were attacked and had fortune not played a hand in aiding us, all of these children and five adults would have been overwhelmed and lost to us!” Thranduil leaned forward and spoke slowly; I could hear the seething anger in his voice. “I can tell you that the venom of this spider was indeed virulent. I sat by the bed of my youngest son as he burned with fever and cried in pain. I held his head as he retched until he was too weak to do so. His naneth and I waited in fear as the healers tried to save him, not knowing if what they did would be of any use against this venom or not. And you said nothing!”

I cringed as I saw pain on my father’s face. The color blanched from his face, even as his cheeks turned red with heat.

The king sat back. “You are both fathers. How could you allow any child to go through this? Any parent? Any Elf? And where do I find it my father’s heart to forgive you? Or as your king?”

“There is no excuse, my lord,” my father said. “There is none.”

“No,” Thranduil agreed. “There is not.” From the side, I could see the king tilt his head upward to look down on the two Elves.  “I have determined my judgment,” he said. “Calendon,” he said as turned toward the leader. “Your behavior has demonstrated your lack of leadership ability. You have betrayed the throne and you have betrayed the confidence of your people. I do not involve myself in the politics of the villages unless it becomes necessary, but in this instance, you have given me no choice. I relieve you of your office as leader of your village. You may continue to live there if your people will accept you. You may not hold office again for two hundred years and then only with my permission. You will report the names of the healers and foresters who were involved in this to my scribe. I will choose a healer from here that I will send regularly to oversee the healers in your village. We are far too short of healers for me to strip them of the ability to help, but they will be required to keep detailed records on every person they aid and every potion they mix. These records will be reviewed by my healer and in turn, this healer will report to me. You will be escorted back to you village where you will show the warriors where these experiments were carried out so that they can be certain that everything to do with this madness has been destroyed. I will prepare a declaration that will be read to your entire village detailing this insane breeding and my decrees regarding it. One of my advisors will accompany you back to ensure that a new leader is chosen in an appropriate manner. The western border patrol will also be made aware so that they may also watch over the innocent of your village.”

Calendon bowed his head. “I am indeed sorry, my lord. I accept your judgment willingly.”

“You will accept it willingly or not!” Thranduil snapped.

“Of course, my lord,” Calendon said softly.

Thranduil then turned his head toward my father. My breath caught in my throat and tears clouded my eyes again. “Sordien,” the king said. “I am surprised to find you involved in this sort of subterfuge. What made you agree to remain silent when the dangers of this folly became apparent to you?”

“My excuses are weak, my lord,” Adar said. “When I first heard of the spiders, I was shocked. I have known Calendon for nearly as long as I can remember. I have always known him to be kind and caring. I believed him that the motives for this breeding were good and honest, but I could see the dangers. I allowed our friendship to sway me against doing what I should have. I gave him my word, and I tried to hold to it. I was wrong and there is simply nothing more that I can say in my defense, my lord. I can only beg your forgiveness and the forgiveness of the queen and your youngest son.”

After a pause, the king said, “I will not remove you from you position of leadership, Sordien, but I will require a vote of confidence from your people. A decree will be read to your village as well, and then if your people wish for you to remain as their leader, I will allow it. I will send an advisor with you to oversee this procedure.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. The people of our village loved my father, and I could not see them asking him to be removed from his leadership.

The king spoke again. “I will not tolerate such a thing as this again. Mercy will not be granted a second time. You will remain here until all arrangements are made for a healer, my advisors and a guard to travel with you. Word will be sent to you when you may depart.” Adar and Calendon bowed their heads in understanding. “You may go,” the king said. My father and Calendon bowed and retreated toward the back of the Hall.  As the crowd shuffled and moved, I caught a quick glimpse of some of the delegations from home. How badly I felt for my father; he had been humiliated in front of the people he had led here. How would I ever tell him that I had caused this?

Movement from the throne brought my eyes back to the king. He motioned to Seregon and Seregon slipped from the shadows, walking up the steps to the throne. He bent low to hear the king. I could not make out anything of what was said, but Seregon nodded, saluted formally and then descended. He motioned to him the two warriors who had come in with Adar and Calendon. After a quick word, they turned, moving swiftly to the back of the Hall again. My heart lurched. Surely there was nothing more to do about the leaders.

My view was limited, but I saw the guards scuffling with someone along the very back at the wall. I would not say there was much resistance from the person, but whoever it was did not seem inclined to come forward easily. As the small crowd parted, the guards emerged with Calith firmly held between the two of them. I gasped. Truly, I did feel ill at that point. Aldamir had told me that the king might confront Calith, but I surely did not expect to stand witness to it. The last thing I wanted was to hear the mistakes of my romantic entanglements revealed in public.

Calith and his guards came to a stop midway to the king where he dropped to one knee and bowed his head.

“Rise and come forward,” the king said as his voice once again boomed in anger.

Calith got up slowly, but as he did, he cast glances to and fro as if looking to see how he could disengage from this horrible situation. My heart was pounding. Slowly he walked forward. His face was pale and his eyes large as he seemingly watched his steps carefully, as if counting each one to the king.

When he reached the dais, the king ordered, “On your knees.”

A look of surprise flitted across Calith’s face, and then I could no longer see his expression as he sank to both knees at the king’s feet.

“You have played with fire, Calith,” the king said.

“I…I am not certain what you mean, my lord,” Calith stammered out.

The king stood and walked down to where Calith knelt. Slowly the king walked in a circle around him “Indeed,” the king said. “Perhaps I should jog your memory. Will that be necessary, Calith? Or do you not recall what lies you have told? Are there so many that you cannot possibly remember?” he asked.

“I am sorry, my lord,” Calith said. “I do not know of what you speak.”

Thranduil stopped and bent over Calith bowed head. “Is that so?” he said slowly. “Then you do not recall having any conversation with mistress Elenna, Sordien’s daughter, regarding the reputation of a member of my family?” Thranduil stood quickly. “Think carefully before you answer. You would not wish to hide the truth.”

“My lord,” Calith said as he sank further down, “I repeated only what I had been told. The source of these stories was not with me, but with members of the western border patrol.”

“I see,” Thranduil said. “Then I want the names of the warriors who are spreading lies. Who are they? Name them.”

“I…do not recall their names, sire,” Calith said.

“You know these warriors well enough for them to tell you such intimate details, yet you do not know their names? I find that odd.”

“I do not know their names, my lord,” Calith whispered.

“Then what did they look like? Surely you can give me description of them,” Thranduil said as he continued his circling.

“I saw them only briefly. I did not pay attention to such details,” Calith said, his voice growing more and more distant and unsteady.

“Yet you recall in great detail what you claim they said,” the king reminded him. “Would you recognize the warriors, if you saw them again?”

“I do not know,” he said. “It was dark, and I was really only listening.”

“You were eavesdropping then?  Though you claimed that the warriors told you personally the stories you repeated.”

“I..I..simply heard them,” Calith said, his voice quivering.

Thranduil stopped again in front of Calith. “Let me be certain that I understand you. You do not know the names of the warriors you heard gossiping. Nor do you know what they look like. Furthermore, you do not know even if you would recognize them if you saw them again, because they were not talking to you directly; you merely overheard their conversation. Do I have this right?”

Calith shook his head as if confused.

“Perhaps you did not hear anyone at all. Perhaps you meant only to undermine a relationship, but in the workings of your deceit, you have insulted the crown gravely. You have willfully and maliciously spread rumors that reflect badly on me and on the sacred trust of the throne. I am very angry, Calith.” When Calith made no reply, the king said, “I do not care what prompted you to lie. I do not care what you hoped to gain. I do not care for any excuses you may have. The fact is that you slandered us-- undermining the authority of the crown.”

“That was not my intent,” Calith said meekly.

“I think it was,” the king said. “The only thing you did not intend was to get caught.” Thranduil turned and walked back to his throne. Once he had seated himself, he took up his oaken staff and held it. “From this moment onward or until I decree otherwise, you are banished from the main village and the stronghold. You may return to your family in your village and may they have mercy on you for your foolishness. I know not what mistress Elenna desires of her friendship with you, but I will say this, if she no longer desires you as a friend or as a betrothed, then you will honor her wishes or you will answer to me, as well as the male members of her family.  Make no mistake, Calith, my anger is not fueled by anything that my son might wish; he is unaware of anything that is transpiring here. My decree to you is solely based on the harm you have caused the crown. I will not abide such deceit. If you ever think to undermine the throne again, I will banish you from this forest for as long as Arda stands. Do I make myself clear?”

“You do, my lord,” Calith said. I cringed. I could hear the subtle tone of anger in Calith’s voice. The inflection was small, but it was there.

“You will be escorted to gather your things, and then you will be taken from here and set on your way back to your village. Go now from our sight,” the king said as he flicked his hand toward Seregon. Seregon in turn motioned to the guards. With one on each side of him, they pulled Calith to his feet and rushed him from the Hall. The crowd parted silently as they watched him hauled from court.

At that point, I realized that my hand was covering my mouth.  I sank back against the wall next to the door and squeezed my eyes closed to shut out all I had witnessed. My breath seemed to have left me with only short gasps to sustain me.

“What other business is there?” I heard the king say.

Slowly, my breathing calmed, and I opened my eyes to see the king’s aide watching me. He rose from his desk and motioned to the chair. “The worst seems to be over,” he said. “Please, sit. Someone will come for you shortly.”

Stunned, I walked slowly to the chair and lowered myself. Earlier that morning, when I thought my world had come unhinged, I had no idea that it could or would become even more ruined. I wanted to rush to my father, beg his forgiveness and leave this place. I trusted his love for me, but I feared his disappointment in me as well. But I would bear his displeasure with my actions if it would put behind us this horrible tragedy of guilt and deceit. I felt as if the only thing keeping me from running from this office and to him was the fear of bringing more of the king’s anger to bear on my father. Dropping my face into my hands, I could not stop the flow of hot tears.

“Elenna,” I heard Seregon say softly. He knelt in front of me and gently pulled my hands from my face.

“Please,” I pleaded. “May I leave now? Allow me to go to my father.”

He held my tear-stained hands in his and squeezed them gently. “Soon,” he said. “I will take you back to my office where the king wishes for you to wait until Calith has been removed from the village. If you wish to resume your friendship with him, then you may certainly do so when you return home, but the king wishes to spare you from any unpleasantness that might stem from his anger with Calith.”

“I will have to face him at some point,” I said, knowing that this would indeed be unpleasant, but I truly did not have any desire to do so on this day. “But there is nothing of our friendship to salvage. I have been foolish, and I would not continue to do so where he is concerned.”

“You will not have to worry about him further,” Seregon said. “The king will see to that. But I am told that you have relatives that will not allow Calith to bother you if you do not wish it.”

“My father will certainly be more than happy to show Calith the door,” I smiled weakly. “He has never cared much for him.”

“I am sure that this is true,” Seregon smiled. “But I was thinking of Tree. I am told that he is your mother’s cousin and somewhat overprotective of her and her daughters at times.”

“Tree,” I laughed lightly as I felt the familiar warmth of affection for this bear of a cousin. “He has never been reticent in voicing his opinion on any subject, but Calith has always been one of his favorite tirades.”

“Tirades?” Seregon chuckled. “I would not say that he has tirades to his face.”

I smiled more genuinely now as I thought about Tree. “Tree and I have had many discussions, my lord, and some of them quite heated. But I am safe with him, I know. He is more like a brother or uncle than a cousin to my sister and me.” I shook my head. “He can be rather overbearing at times.”

“In this instance,” Seregon said as he stood and extended his hand, “he may prove useful.”

I took Seregon’s hand and stood. “He is always useful, my lord, even if he is stubborn and free with his opinions.”

“Then you are safe in his and your father’s care,” Seregon said as he led me into the corridor.

I waited in Seregon’s office for nearly an hour before he returned to retrieve me. He smiled kindly as he told me that Calith had been taken by guard to the forest to begin his journey home. One of the friends Calith had arrived with had chosen to accompany Calith home.

Seregon walked with me back to my aunt’s cottage. “Would you like for me to stay while you greet your father?” he asked.

I shook my head. “I will be fine, but I thank you for your care.”

At that moment, my father came from the door of the cottage. He stopped as if surprised to see me and then held out his arms. I rushed into his embrace, sobbing until I could barely draw breath. “Oh, Adar,” I cried. “How can you forgive me?”

Adar held me closely and then kissed me firmly on my forehead. “Oh child, there is nothing for me to forgive. You were far braver than I have been.” He pushed my gently from him. “The question is: can you forgive a foolish old adar?”

“There is nothing to forgive, Adar. I love you,” I said through my hitching breath and rush of tears. I did not know how he knew that I had been the one to tell the story of the spiders to the king, but I supposed that it did not take much for him to note my absence and the sudden revealing of this secret. “I want to go home and forget all that has happened.”

“Soon, child,” he whispered as he gathered me to him again. “Soon.”

***Thanks to daw the minstrel for her knowledge of spider breeding. Who knew? I’m grateful for her continued support and suggestions. Also thanks to Meckinock for her patient wielding of her sword through this story. It’s bled at times, but her guidance is always kind and accurate. I’m sure I’ve missed some things that should have been corrected, but they are my errors. She’s done her best with me. :>)