Silevethiel (15 page)

Lord Brandir raised his arm, the sleeve of his dark blue robe gliding down to his elbow and exposing his light olive skin. A hushed silence filled the room. “My fellow elves of Mistwood,” he bellowed, his rich voice echoing throughout the great hall. “I present to you my honored guest, and Silevethiel’s newly chosen Protector, Irewen!”

Cheers and applause rang out from the crowd, and Brandir once again raised his hand, signaling he hadn’t finished. He turned to her after the elves fell silent. “Irewen, you have broken your ties to Dargon, rejected your royal status, and denounced the egregious actions of your cousin, King Elthad.

“You have had a trying journey, but it is not yet over. There is much left that you must do. There are many hardships yet to come. However, know that whatever those hardships may be, we will face them together. Though you are a Cíllér and have the blood of a Green Elf, you are also a Protector and have the blood of a Wood Elf. You are one of our own. Silverden is as much your home as it is mine. May your stay in our beloved city be as enjoyable as it can be in these dark times, and may your heart be filled with happiness and peace while you remain within the comforting embrace of these walls.”

Wondering how he’d already known such a great deal about her, Irewen wiped away her bewildered expression and placed a hand on her heart. “Thank you, Lord Brandir,” she replied. “I am truly honored by the generosity and kindness of the Wood Elves. Believe me when I say I look forward to spending time in Silverden and acquainting myself with the marvelous customs of your people.”

The voices of the assembled elves rose through the hall as the celebration continued.

“Come!” Brandir exclaimed. “Tonight, let us forget about our troubles and celebrate our good fortune!” Gently taking her elbow, he escorted her into the room and led her towards the extravagant array of refreshments. “I know everyone here is eager to speak with you,” he said, handing her a plate of white porcelain intricately hand-painted with tiny violet and blue flowers, “but I am also well aware of the quality of my son’s cooking. I absolutely refuse to let you do anything until you have eaten a decent meal. It is no wonder you are nothing but skin and bones! Do not be shy! Fill this plate with as many treats as you wish! And do not hesitate to return for seconds or thirds!”

Irewen giggled softly. “Laegon’s cooking is not as bad as all that, but it will definitely be wonderful to eat something other than porridge or crújend!”

Brandir grinned. “Off you go then,” he said with a gentle wave of his hand. “And Irewen...”

“Yes?” she asked, turning to look into the elf lord’s eyes.

“In answer to your question, information passes exceptionally quickly between the Guardians.” He winked. “Especially where Brégen is concerned.”

Irewen smiled, her relief quite evident.

“Now,” he continued, gesturing at the table. “Please eat, before my son decides to take part in the feast and devours everything in his path!”

Irewen didn’t need to be told twice. Her mouth watering, she reached for the first silver epergne bursting with herbed goat cheese canapés with pecans and grapes, and prepared herself for the most ambrosial meal she’d ever eaten.

Sighing blissfully, Irewen she sank further into the violet tiled bathing pool, relishing every second as the steaming water began to relax her sore and cramped muscles. Although she’d had a sublimely delightful time at the celebration, Lord Brandir’s suggestion that she enjoy a bath before retiring for the night had sounded like music to her ears. She struggled to remember the last time she’d bathed. Finally being able to wash away the caked layers of dirt and grime from her skin had felt heavenly. Now, as the soft moonlight filtered in through the two arched windows, Irewen was simply happy to relax in the lavender scented water and soak away her troubles. Tilting her head back, she gazed through the glass ceiling at the stars twinkling in the sky.

It’d been a wonderful evening. She was more thankful for the elves’ hospitality than words could convey. Lord Brandir’s declaration that this was her home had touched her heart deeply, nearly bringing tears to her eyes. As the initial amazement at Silverden began to wear away, she was shocked to discover it did indeed feel like home. Memories of her family’s castle in Dargon diminished by the second. She realized it had never felt as though she truly belonged anywhere in that kingdom, much less as a member of the royal family and heir to the throne.

Irewen tried in vain to name just one friend she’d left behind. Even before Elthad had betrayed her, she’d been shunned by her extended family. Aside from her father, the only acquaintance she ever had was her handmaiden, and she would hardly count Ella as her friend. The young woman had respected her, but there wasn’t even the slightest sense of camaraderie between them.

She couldn’t think of any friends because there were none. In the twenty long years of her life, she hadn’t formed one single friendship other than the unbreakable bond between father and daughter.

What did I do with my time?
she wondered, knowing the answer before even finished the question. When not with her father, she had idled away the long hours of the day, walking in the gardens or reading in the library. She attended no parties or banquets other than official ones hosted by her father. There was no one to chat with over afternoon tea or join her on her daily walk through the gardens. Only her father was there to share in her laughter or dry her tears.

No, she hadn’t belonged.

«Then why do I feel so guilty?»

«You feel guilty because you are kindhearted,»
came Silevethiel’s honest reply.
«But you were absolutely correct in thinking you did not belong there.»

Still not used to the finer points of Míendvel, Irewen had not realized she’d shared her last thought with Silevethiel and gasped in surprise when the Dame’s soft words floated through her mind.

«Dargon was never your home. Neither was it your mother’s. I do not know what led her elven mother to Dargon. Whatever the reason, your grandmother was never welcome. Neither were you or your mother. Your father and grandfather were the only humans in the kingdom with an open mind and tender heart. Now, with the king gone, there is nothing for you there. Silverden is now your home. Do as your heart tells you. Let go of your past. Only then will your new friendships be able to flourish.»

«You are quite right, Silevethiel. Thank you.»

«There is no need to thank me, Irewen. Though it is difficult to get used to, I am always here to help you through whatever troubles you may face. Now, my Protector, the hour is late. Get some well-deserved rest. The early rays of sunrise will be peeking their unwelcome heads through your windows before you know it.»

Irewen smiled, stifling a yawn.
«Sleep sounds wonderful. Goodnight, Silevethiel.»

«Goodnight, dear Irewen. May your dreams be filled with brilliant visions and hopes for the future.»

“COME AND SIT DOWN, MY SON,” BRANDIR SAID TO Laegon, motioning for the prince to join him in a hot cup of tea. It was hours past midnight, and the guests had all finally returned to their respective homes, leaving the royal home in welcomed silence. Sitting across from his father, Laegon gladly accepted the tea, knowing he’d reached the point of no return where he’d become so tired he wouldn’t be able to sleep.

Laegon took a sip, savoring the warm liquid as it rushed down his throat. “Thank you, Father,” he said with a sigh of satisfaction. “This is just what I needed.”

“Aye.” Brandir smiled, watching while Laegon enjoyed another sip of the honeyed tea. “I know you Laegon. I have not been your father for two hundred and thirty-nine years without knowing a thing or two about your sleeping habits. You will not get a wink of sleep until tomorrow evening.”

Laegon’s laughter resounded through the room. “That is true enough. I was just thinking the same thing myself.”

“I suggest you speak to Brégen at the most inopportune moment. Pay him back for all the pranks he has pulled on you over the years.”

“That is devious, Father!”

“So, you will not do it?”

Laegon smiled wickedly. “Of course I will!”

“Now, Laegon,” Brandir said once their laughter died away.

“Yes?”

“Tell me everything that happened since you found Irewen in the woods.”

“I thought Brégen already told your Guardian, Raina.”

“Indeed he did, but he was not there for the majority of the time. His account to Raina was second hand, and subsequently hers to me was third. If I am to be of any assistance to either you or Irewen, I need to hear your personal account of the past few weeks. Every single detail. And I need to hear it now.”

Laegon nodded. Taking another sip of tea, he closed his eyes to collect his thoughts before slowly recounting everything from the moment Brégen found Irewen lying in the snow to the moment they arrived in Silverden. When he’d finished, the tea had grown cold, and his back was cramped and stiff. He’d relived every emotion he’d experienced over the past week just as vividly while recounting the events. He felt as though he were a wet rag that had been twisted and contorted for hours before it was hung up to dry.

“Well I’ll be,” Brandir marveled. “I never thought I would live to see the day.”

“What day?”

“You love her.”

“Well, I...”

“Oh, come now, Laegon,” Brandir smiled. “I saw the glimmer of longing in your eyes every time you spoke of her. Now tell me, honestly.”

Laegon paused, examining the elf lord’s deep brown eyes. “I care for her more than I can say.”

The silence that followed made Laegon wish he could crawl into a hole. “I know it is not an acceptable relationship, Father,” Laegon continued quietly, looking down in shame. “An elf and a human. I tried to push my feelings aside, but I could not.”

“My dear son,” Brandir said, reaching for Laegon’s hand. “Relationships between the two races have never been forbidden. And as Irewen’s heritage proves, they are not unheard of. Quite simply, they are avoided out of fear, not because they are thought of as inappropriate. You were honest with yourself. Despite our people’s general anxiety of falling in love with a human, you did. You rose above the mainstream views of the elves, and you are a richer person for it. Never forget that, Laegon.”

Laegon blinked away the tears forming in his eyes. “Thank you,” he replied, surprised he’d become so emotional. “Your words mean more to me than I can say. I must admit I was quite apprehensive to express my feelings for Irewen. I did not expect such a warm reception from anyone.”

“Oh, come now,” Brandir winked. “I am not as cruel as all that.”

Laegon chuckled. “No, I suppose not. Though, I have to ask, Father. What did you mean when you said you never thought you would live to see the day? Did you not expect any of our people to develop feelings for a human?”

“No,” his father shook his head. “I was referring to you personally.”

“How so?”

“Though we are an extremely tight-knit community, our people are not known for expressing our personal emotions to others, even our own kind. And you, my dear son, have always followed that generalization to the definition, even in your relationships with me and your mother. When you were an elfling, you never came to either of us for typical childhood advice or for comfort and reassurance when you were upset. As you matured, you became even more reserved. You have always been one to keep your thoughts and feelings well hidden behind the walls you build around yourself.”

“Father, I...”

Brandir gently raised his hand, signaling he meant no harm. “I am not criticizing you, Laegon,” he interjected softly. “Merely stating a fact. I am quite pleased to see you were finally able to knock some common sense into your head. Your mother and I expected to die of old age before we saw you open your heart to any woman, let alone one of mixed blood. Giving your love to someone, and knowing the love of another, is an amazing thing, Laegon. It is something no one should deprive themselves of, no matter society’s pressures to do otherwise. Whatever happens in your relationship with Irewen, I am happy for you, son.”

Laegon smiled. “Thank you, Father. I suppose that with Brégen’s constant presence, I forget there are others I can confide in.”

“Aye, that is understandable. I myself sometimes feel the same with Raina. The connection between a Protector and Guardian is indeed quite unique and exceptionally powerful. It is just as powerful as our bond with a parent or lover, though obviously for different reasons. Each kind of relationship we form is special and affects us in distinct ways to make us become who we are. You may find you tend to rely upon one more than the others, but never forget that the others exist. Although I am certain Brégen would disagree with me, he may not always have the answers or type of affection you seek. Your mother and I are always here for you, Laegon, as is Irewen. Never forget that.”

Laegon placed his hand on his heart, willing his tears not to fall. “I will not.”

“And Laegon, one word of caution.”

“Yes?”

“Your mother and I are well aware of your reluctance to speak of personal matters. We know that is simply your disposition, and we do not take offense by it. But keep in mind that Irewen has only known you for a short time and does not yet know you as intimately as we do. She may not share the same outlook on your silence.”

Laegon nodded. “Thank you. I will keep that in mind.”

“Good!” Brandir exclaimed as he poured them both another cup of tea. “Now, let us move away from your love life, and focus on our plans for dealing with King Elthad as well as protecting both Irewen and our people from the evils of the Drulaack.”

“This is more the kind of discussion I like,” Laegon grinned. “I was wondering when you were going to move the conversation around to such talk.”

“I figured it would be best to get the more difficult topic out of the way first.”

“Fair enough, I suppose. But now that we have moved on to the easier matter of business, what are your suggestions?”

Absentmindedly blowing his tea, Brandir considered his son’s question. “I believe we should start with Irewen and work our way from there,” he began. “For whether or not she is the one spoken of in Irwiendel’s prophecy, I do believe she is crucial to our success.”

“I find it very hard to imagine Irewen would not be the woman in the elf girl’s vision. There have simply been too many coincidences to believe otherwise.”

“Aye, but at the present, they are nothing more than coincidences. Because of Irewen’s extraordinary combination of abilities as both a Protector and Speaker, it has only been proven she shares the blood of the Wood Elves and Green Elves. The blood of the Light Elves and Sea Elves remains unaccounted for. Even if she has the blood of all four races, there is still a possibility she is not the one to unite the four elven races. Until we have definitive proof, we cannot make the mistake of acting on mere assumptions.”

“You are quite right, Father. We must first discover the identity of the woman, Irewen or not.”

“Aye, and I agree with your interpretation of Dremond’s words that the princess is the one meant to lead the hunt. The obvious, and only place to begin, is in the historical archives of the Light Elves. The written account of Irwiendel’s vision, if it still exists, is our best hope of identifying the woman.”

“That was my thought as well. I had planned on accompanying Irewen to Lilendvelle once we have all had a few days to rest.”

“Ah,” Brandir replied hesitantly, knowing his son wasn’t going to like what he was about to say. “There is a slight problem with that arrangement. Irewen will indeed be traveling to Lilendvelle, but you will not be going with her.”

The prince was silent, waiting for his father to say he’d only been teasing. The color drained from his face when he realized it was most definitely not a joke.

When Laegon finally spoke, his voice was as sharp as the pointed blade of a knife. “What?” he asked curtly. He couldn’t believe he was being asked to let Irewen make the journey on her own.

“You are my son, Laegon. Not only are you Mistwood’s only prince, you are also its most gifted Protector.”

“Exactly,” Laegon interrupted angrily. “Which is why I need to be there...”

“Please,” Brandir said, calmly raising his hand. “Let me finish. I know you feel as though you must be the one to assure her safety, but it is simply not practical. Irewen has the protection of Silevethiel, and once she reaches Lilendvelle, she will also have the protection of the Light Elves. But you know as well as I that they are not strong enough to defend against a large scale attack from anyone, let alone the merciless and overpowering forces of the Drulaack.

“Neither of us can speculate how long it will take Irewen to find the document. It could take months. Years. Mistwood cannot afford to have its most accomplished Protector absent for that great a time, and neither can the elves of Lündvelle. We are their first and only major defense. The safety of both the Wood Elves and Light Elves depends on your aid and unparalleled skill. Our warriors need someone they can look to for courage and support in the dark times ahead. I need you here, Laegon. Your people need you here. Irewen needs you here.”

“I have every confidence the Light Elves will do everything in their power to keep her safe once she reaches the city of Lilendvelle,” Laegon replied, “but what of the journey through northern Mistwood and into the southern regions of Lündvelle? I know firsthand the might of the Drulaack. Dame Silevethiel is extremely powerful, but she will not be able to defend Irewen single-handedly against an attack. And what happens once they reach Lilendvelle and Irewen manages to convince the Light Elves to grant her permission to search their archives? She does not know how to read any form of Elvish, let alone the old dialect of the Light Elves. How will she be able to know if or when she has found the appropriate document?”

“Calm down, Laegon. Please,” Brandir urged. “You have every right to be concerned for her safety on the journey, but you are forgetting that the only way for the enemy to reach Lündvelle is to travel through Mistwood. Irewen will only come under attack should we fail. Nevertheless, I have not lived this long without realizing that anything can happen. We must always try to prepare for every eventuality. You are correct in your assumption that Silevethiel is not strong enough to defend Irewen on her own. I never expected her to. I am sending a small squadron of our warriors and archers as well as a Protector and Guardian to see that Irewen arrives in Lilendvelle safely.”

Holding his tongue, Laegon averted his gaze. His father had come to a decision. It would be fruitless for Laegon to argue that he and Brégen should be the Protector and Guardian assigned to the mission.

“As far as the language barrier,” Brandir continued, fully expecting his decision to be a point of contention between them, “Irewen will be surrounded by a number of our people who I am sure will be more than willing to translate anything she may need into the common tongue. She will also have Silevethiel to help her understand the Light Elves’ dialect as well as interpret anything in the archives that has not already been transcribed to the language of man.”

“I promised her I would not leave,” Laegon insisted stubbornly. In his heart, he knew Brandir had made the correct decision. His father was older, as was his Guardian, Raina, and although they were certainly not feeble, they could not do everything as easily and effectively as they had in years gone by. Though it had not been formally declared, this was a time of war. It was now his duty as a Protector and Prince of Mistwood to lead his people as their Captain in his father’s stead. Nevertheless, how could he repudiate his oath?

“Irewen is a reasonable and understanding woman,” Brandir assured him. “You are not abandoning her, nor are you breaking your vow to do everything in your power to protect her and aid her. You are each doing your parts to battle this evil. And though your paths might diverge for the time being, they will unite once again.

“Explain the situation to her. Let her know it was I who charged you with this assignment. I do not doubt she will be upset. But in her heart, she will know this is what is necessary for the greater good. We can no longer think of the future and protection of individual people, Laegon. We must think of the entire world. Irewen will understand. If she does not, then she is not the one meant to fulfill Irwiendel’s vision.”

“Yes,” Laegon finally acquiesced. “I know you are right. It is just...”

“Difficult,” his father finished for him.

“Aye.” The prince nodded his head, feeling as though he was acting like a child.

“Nothing is easy, my son. Especially war. It is in times like these when we must all call upon our inner strength in order to persevere. We have the support of friends and family, though they may be far away at times. We must never forget that, particularly during times when our hearts are heavy.”

“You are right, of course. I must apologize. I should not have allowed my emotions to cloud my judgment. Doing so will only do more harm to our cause than good.”