S T A R L I G H T

C H A P T E R 20

With her equipment sheathed into her clothes, she grabbed the large bow and set of arrows she had also hidden in the stall, pulling them over her head and adjusting them.

That was it.

"Good boy, Solmyr," she praised her steed, patting his shoulder and neck gently. Gripping the pummel and cantle, she pulled herself up onto the horse. "Come," she advised, leading with her reigns and nudging him along with her heel.

Simbelmynë's eyes widened suddenly.

The bell was ringing. The alarm bell.

Against her better judgement her bright blue eyes glanced up at the Kings balcony, landing on the last thing she wished to see. He was there. His form draped in nothing but a loose sheet around his waist, hair unkempt slightly. But as beautiful as he looked, he was far more enraged. The Kings face held a deep scowl, his back hunched as he gripped onto the ledge; glaring through her.

Her large eyes looked up at him with sincerity and pity. If she could have it any other way, she would still be with him there now...

But she couldn't.

Her legs squeezed tighter around the steed, tapping him thrice with her heel and tearing her eyes from the King.

Hopefully the dwarves had made it far enough.

Simbelmynë could only hope that he had seen her letter. That he would understand. That he would let her go.

In reality it probably just made it worse.

Thranduil had woken up to find his bed empty. His arm had stretched out to hold her closer- but she was not there. Blue eyes opened quickly, searching the bed before searching the room. No where was she to be found.

"Guards! Sound the bells!" He hollered down the halls, mere moments hearing them echo.

His panicked face continued searching, striding back into the room with clench fists. Panicked. Only then did he see the single piece of parchment on the floor next to the bed. Had he knocked it off when he was searching for her?

Reaching for the paper, he unfolded it with shaking hands. He read over it carefully, taking in every word she wrote.

Thranduil,

I am sorry,

this is the way it had to be.

I spoke no lies in telling

you of my visions.

To me they are merely that.

Visions.

I cannot accept your truth.

Not until I have unearthed every rock

is there the possibility of my return.

Please, do not try to stop me.