MAXXIE's body hurt. His head pounded. His legs wouldn't move. He felt every single broken bone and cut on his fourteen year old body, and it wasn't pleasant. Maxxie opened his eyes, bright, white light instantly blinding him. 'Yeah, nope. Closing those,' he thought. Maxxie wasn't ready to deal with the world. The world was just going to have to wait.
Unfortunately, Luke couldn't wait. Luke slapped his face lightly. "Let's go, kid. Get up." He sounded tired. It made sense. They had been defending Lorien for hours. Well, Luke and the huge elven army did. Maxxie was hit over the head 2 hours in, and laid passed out on the ground for the remainder of the fight. That's definitely a story he's not going to tell when they get back to camp. Luke grabbed Maxxie's arm, and hauled him up to a sitting position. "You did good, kid. You know, for the hour or two you were conscious. I'll give you a B+."
Maxxie shook Luke off. "This was my first actual fight," the son of Poseidon supplied.
Luke nodded, his scar crinkling as she smirked. "I figured as much."
Maxxie frowned. "It seems like this wasn't your first run-in with those kinds of monsters, though," he implied rubbing his head, hoping that would magically cause the pain to subside.
Luke got up, looking around. "Yeah, well, I kinda used to live here. After I 'died'," the son of Hermes used over-exaggerated air quotes, "someone sent me here. I have an idea of who it was." Luke frowned and looked down. "But she's...she's not powerful enough to..."
Maxxie gave him a confused look. "Who's not powerful to what?"
"Hecate. She doesn't control the realms. She must've needed help." It's seemed like he was talking to himself now. Luke's head popped up, looking past Maxxie. He paled and immediately knelt, bowing his head. "Milady," he greeted and nudged Maxxie to kneel. Maxxie could feel Celeborn and Galadriel's stare burning the back of his head. He quickly knelt, avoiding Galadriel's stare; it seemed as though she could look into his soul with just one glance.
"You are right, Luke. Hecate does indeed have a companion. I have felt His Darkness for some time now, pulling me." Galadriel fiddled with the Ring in her slim finger, Nenya. She closed her eyes, shaking slightly. "I have seen him. I have been inside his mind." Luke and Maxxie stood. Luke had heard the stories about Him. He had heard the prophecies of his return, but prayed to every Valor that He wouldn't return until Luke was long dead.
Celeborn placed a delicate hand on his wife's shoulder. "Whom, my love?" Galadriel looked up at him.
Her voice was low and her eyes dark. "Morgoth."
----
Legolas sighed as the cool breeze hit his face, his cloak flapping behind him in the wind. He closed his eyes, taking in the one moment of peace. His mind wandered from his father, the war, and Elysium. It seemed to stay on Elysium for quite some time. Legolas' heart pounded, his lips tingled. He could feel the pull of them to form a smile.
After the very long kiss on the balcony, Elysium immediately passed out against him. He had picked her and her clothes up and carried her all the way across the castle to her room. He hoped she might remember what happened, so they could discuss what would happen next. Legolas wondered if they would go through the traditional courtship as all elves do. Would she want to court him? Would either of them even be alive at the end of this quest?
Legolas shook himself out of his thoughts. He shouldn't be thinking like that. He's sure that Elysium would want to wait until after the war to discuss such matters. There were more important things at hand.
Loud footfalls, definitely not ones of an elf, sounded through the hall. Legolas turned to the right, seeing Aragorn. He, too, smelled of liquor, just like Elysium did. Aragorn seemed to sense him.
"Where is Elysium? I assumed she would be out with you," Aragorn asked.
Legolas shook his head. "She is resting in her chambers." Aragorn nodded and looked out into the horizon. It was a while before anything else was said. "The stars are veiled. Something stirs in the east. A sleepless malice. The Eye of the enemy is moving."
----
Pippin wasn't sure how everyone was sleeping. He couldn't stop the nagging, almost painful feeling of curiosity. It was beginning to consume him. All he wanted to do was hold that wizards orb again, to look into it. He thought he saw something the last time before Elysium took it from him, giving it to Gandalf. Since then, the old white wizard had been giving him odd looks. It made Pippin feel cold.
He groaned and finally got up from twisting and turning. He couldn't help his hunger for answers. The hobbit quietly and carefully tip toed around all of his sleeping companions, clinching every time one of them moved or the floor creaked.
"What are you doing?" It was soft and urgent, enough for Pippin to jump. He turned suddenly to find Merry staring at him. Pippin turned back around, ignoring the other hobbit. As soon as he turned, though, he almost fell into Gandalf. Pippin gasped, thinking he was awake, as his eyes were wide open and looking up at him. Pippin frowned, getting down to his level. He could hear the light, even breaths of sleep, and sighed. He glanced down at the object wrapped in cloth that the wizard was hugging to his chest. Pippin could feel that it was the orb. Pippin ignored Merry's calls as he looked around for something to replace with the orb.
He grabbed a round ceramic vase. Gandalf began muttering under his breath, so Pippin knew he had to hurry. As a hobbit, and a Took, he was skilled at stealing things. So, he quickly switched the vase and the orb, and stalked away.
"Pippin, are you mad?" Merry whispered.
Pippin held the orb tightly to his chest. "I just want to look at it. Just one more time." He set it down gently and began to unravel it from the cloth. His sweat dropped onto the floor as his hands worked wildly.
Merry didn't approve of this, though. "Put it back," he ordered. Pippin ignored him, once again.
The orb was black, glossy, blank as he looked at it. He grinned, putting his tiny hands on it. As soon as he did, colors began to flow in the orb- beautiful oranges and reds. He recognized fire. The fire grew and grew, as did the whispering in his head. Pippin was getting scared now. He tried to remove his hands, but they were stuck. The fire turned into a terrifying eye, that Pippin knows he's seen. The whispering in his head turned to growls and screams, inhuman ones. The Eye of Sauron pulsed with power, burning Pippin's hands. His mind was on fire, trying to block out Sauron's voice. Pippin began to shake violently, his eyes shut tightly.
'I see you,' he heard. Pippin could feel his body shoot up, but he couldn't control anything. Pain shot through his whole body, like someone was tearing his insides apart. He tried to scream up nothing came out. All he could do was listen to what Sauron was saying as his body moved uncontrollably.
"Help! Gandalf, help!" Merry yelled. Gandalf immediately woke, dropping the vase. Aragorn and Legolas burst through the doors. Aragorn tore the Eye from Pippin. His entire body was on fire as he fell to the ground. Legolas held him loosely, not knowing what to do.
With all of his strength, Aragorn pushed the Eye away. It continuously rolled, dodging Merry, heading for the doors. Gandalf threw the cloth that it was originally wrapped in, on it, covering the Eye and stopping it. Merry fell to the ground by Pippin.
"Fool of a Took!" Gandalf yelled furiously, but stopped when he saw Pippin lying on the ground, staring unblinkingly at the ceiling. He rushed over, pushing Merry to the side, and grabbed the hobbit's hand. He placed his other hand on Pippin's forehead and began chanting, trying to get Pippin out of his shocked state. Pippin breathed in short, uneven breaths. His eyes moved around the room rapidly. Gandalf was calm. "Look at me."
Pippin looked up at him, still breathing unevenly. "Gandalf," he started, "forgive me." He closed his eyes, seemingly about to cry, but the wizard shook him out of it.
"Look at me. What did you see?" His tone was firm.
Pippin closed his eyes, thinking back to what Sauron showed him. "A-A tree. There was a white tree," he took a deep, shaky breath, "in a courtyard of stone. It was dead. The city was burning."
Everyone awake in the room knew what city Pippin was talking about. Aragorn felt a cold shock go through him. "Minas Tirith? Is that what you saw?" Gandald prodded.
Pippin seemed to get upset with that question. His chest rose and fell quickly. Tears formed in his eyes. "I saw...I saw him. I could hear his voice in my head."
"And what did you tell him?" Pippin paused. "Speak!" The white wizard yelled.
"He asked me my name. I didn't answer. He hurt me." His voice broke.
Gandalf looked down at the hobbit with wide eyes. "What did you tell him about Frodo and the Ring?"
----
Gandalf dragged Pippin, Merry, Aragorn, a now awake Gimli, and Legolas to the Great Hall, telling the guards he needed to meet with the king. Gandalf told Aragorn to wake Elysium, but Legolas said she would be in no state that would benefit them. They waited in silence for a while until the king arrived, looking very unhappy. Pippin avoided eye contact with everyone as Gandalf told Théoden what happened. Pippin cringed every time Théoden looked at him.
"There was no lie in Pippin's eyes. A fool, but an honest fool he remains." Gandalf said. Pippin would've felt proud of the compliment the wizard just gave him if the situation was different. He probably would've made fun of the wizard, but the hobbit knew that would only make matters worse at the moment. "He told Sauron nothing of Frodo and the Ring. We've been strangely fortunate. Saw in the palantir a glimpse of the enemy's plan. Sauron moves to strike the city of Minas Tirith. His defeat at Helm's Deep showed our enemy one thing: he knows the heir of Elendil has come forth. Men are not as weak as he supposed. There is courage still, strength enough perhaps to challenge him. Sauron fears this. He will not risk the people's of Middle Earth uniting under one banner. He will raze Minas Tirith to the ground before he sees a king return to the throne of Men. If the beacons of Gondor are lit, Rohan must be ready for war."
This struck a cord with Théoden- another war for his people to fight alone. "Tell me, why should we ride to the aid of those who did not come to ours? What do we owe Gondor?"
Pippin frowned. He was always taught some old rule in the Shire. 'Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.' That was the only rule Pippin ever cared about. If Rohan ever needed aid again, then it would be smart, strategic, if they went to assist Gondor. Théoden wasn't thinking as a king, he was thinking as a coward. Pippin could practically feel Aragorn's wrath radiateas he stared at Théoden.
"I will go," the heir of Elendil offered.
"No!" Gandalf shot the idea down.
"They must be warned," Aragorn shot back.
Gandalf turned to Aragorn. It was not a good idea to send the should-be king of Gondor to warn the Steward alone, and have him betray the trust of Théoden. Gandalf had a plan. "They will be." He moved to Aragorn and whispered, "you must come to Minas Tirith by another road. Follow the river. Look to the black ships." Gandalf turned back to the king. "Understand this: things are now in motion that cannot be undone. I ride for Minas Tirith, and I won't be going alone." He looked at Pippin, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.
----
Elysium had never awoken to such a pain in her head. She'd experienced terrible pain before, but none of that was the same as she felt in her head. Elysium pushed herself up from her bed, immediately feeling dizzy and an odd feeling in her stomach. Her first instinct was to get up and run to the bucket by her door. She hunched over, and for the first time, she vomited. Elysium slumped against the wall and thought back to last night, searching for what could've possibly made her vomit. Normally, the elven warrior princess had an impeccable memory, but she couldn't remember anything from the night before besides what happened at Isengard. Her stomach jolted, just thinking about it.
Elysium was so wrapped up in her own thoughts, she didn't even notice the other set of breathing for at least 15 seconds. Elysium reached for her dagger, but it wasn't on her for some reason. She always slept with it.
Someone Elysium could barely recognize came out from the balcony and spoke, "What you're feeling right now...that's called a hangover. Back home you'd get them all the time when we went drinking." The voice was feminine. Elysium looked closer and realized the woman was just Thalia, one of Andrew's companions. Elysium sighed. She was getting tired of these newcomers.
"Listen, as I will only say this once. I do not know who any of you are. I do not know who keep referring to, and I do not know why. I am Elysium Ballinmîr, names given to me by my father and mother. I am the Lady and Guardian of Rivendell. I am Elf-Kind. Stop this now, or you will regret it." Elysium tried to control her irritation with the young girl, but it was exhausting her and her patience.
Thalia stared down at her with a disbelieving look. She moved closer and crouched down in front of the elf. "I'm tired of this bullshit, too, Percy. Now it's my turn." Thalia was referring back to her little rant that she didn't really believe. "You were taken from your home, and dropped into this world. So, we came looking for you. You are not an elf. You're a demigod; the daughter of Poseidon." Elysium glared up at her. She grit her teeth and shut her eyes. 'Calm yourself', Elysium thought. "You don't remember now, but when all of this crap," Thalia waved her hands around wildly, "is over, you will."
Elysium pushed herself up, which she regretted when her vision blurred and head pounded. "Get out," she ordered. Thalia stood in front of her defiantly. Elysium's anger rose to the next level. "Now!" And with that, two large arms, formed from water, grabbed Thalia by the shoulders, pushed her out of Elysium's room, and slammed the door closed.
She slid back to the ground, and placed her head in her hands, running them through her hair. Elysium was beginning to become frightened by these new visions and the mysterious newcomers. The things they said, what they called her, made her feel something. Elysium wasn't sure what it was, but there had been a nagging feeling in her head since she met the newcomers. She still didn't understand how she saw them before she even met them. Elysium needed to talk to someone about it all, someone that would not think wrongly of her, or become angry.
The elf took a long sip of water, and got up. She needed to find Gandalf.
----
Elysium pushed open the doors to the Great Hall. Théoden stood at a long table, Aragorn and Andrew standing by him. They were pointing, looking at a large piece of parchment. Legolas and Gimli sat in the corner talking in hushed tones. Well, 'hushed' as in almost yelling in Gimli's perspective. Elysium couldn't remember a time where Gimli ever spoke quietly. She wasn't sure it was actually possible.
They all looked up as the doors slammed shut behind her. Gimli was the first to greet her. She could barely see his smile from underneath his red beard. "Ah, the Lady has awoken. 'Bout damn time!" He cackled. Elysium smiled at him before approaching Aragorn, Théoden, and Andrew.
"Where is Gandalf? I've been searching everywhere. I assumed he may be with Shadowfax, and when I arrived at the stables, Shadowfax was gone. I asked the horses, and they wouldn't give me a definitive answer." Elysium crossed her arms, waiting for one of them to reply. Aragorn and Théoden glanced at each other.
"Ellie, Gandalf left hours ago," he began. Elysium frowned, wondering why she was just now finding this new information out. "As did Pippin and the palantir."
Andrew straightened up, frowning. "Where'd they go?" He asked.
Aragorn glanced at the king again. Théoden gave him a slight nod. "They left for Gondor not 3 hours ago."
Elysium could feel her stomach bunch. "Why was I not informed of this?"
Aragorn moved to put his hand on his friend's shoulder, but she jerked away. Legolas walked up to the group. "You were in no state to do anything. I believed you needed the rest," he piped up. His eyes searched hers. Looking, hoping to see if she may remember what happened the night before. Elysium just scowled.
"I do not need rest. I am not here to sleep around! You should have woken me, you fools," she growled, rubbing her temples.
"What is troubling you, Ellie?" Legolas stepped forward, face contorting into a look of concern.
She moved away from him. "You should have woken me," was all she said before stalking out of the Great Hall, her cloak flowing behind her. Legolas stared after her.
Andrew smirked at the elf. "Dude, that sucked," he laughed. Legolas shot him a dangerous look before going back to sit with Gimli. Andrew looked over at him, and then at the doors. A plan formed in his head. 'Athena always has a plan', he remembers. "Uh, can we finish this later, King Théoden? I have something I need to take care of." Théoden sighed, but waved him off.
Andrew sped out of the Great Hall. He ran past the guards and out of the castle. He had a feeling he knew where Elysium was. He burst into the stables, hoping she was still there. He was lucky, as she was just saddling her horse.
"Woah, what're you doing?" He asked, trying to look cool, and not like he had sprinted all the way from the Great Hall to the stables in under 3 minutes.
Elysium turned on her horse, Arod, her face blank. "What does it look like I am doing, Andrew?" Her voice was cool and sharp.
Andrew put his hands up. "Sarcasm. That's a new look for you. I didn't realize you knew what that was." He smirked up at her, earning an irritated sigh.
"Is there something you seek, or did you follow me all the way here to pester me with your mediocrity and thick headedness?" Elysium asked, strapping her bow to her back.
Andrew glanced over at the horses. There was a free one just chomping down on a carrot. He grinned and looked back at Elysium. "You know it's not a good idea to go to Gondor alone," he stated. He moved to the pen with the free horse, and started petting it behind the ears. He had no idea what horses liked. The horse shook him off and went back to eating carrots.
"You want to accompany me?" Elysium asked, almost in disbelief. Andrew opened the gate, and pulled his horse out. He grabbed a saddle from the ground, and strapped it onto the horse. Andrew looked around at his waist, seeing his dagger strapped there tightly. He climbed on top of the horse's back.
"Well, only if your offering."
----
For the first day of riding, Elysium refused to speak at all, keeping her green eyes on the path ahead of them. Andrew had tried many times to break the uncomfortable silence that had settled between them, but she refused to respond to anything he said. The second day Andrew had gotten a smirk when he accidentally fell off his horse and into a rather nasty swamp. It didn't bother him though. He had gotten a smile out of her and that's all he cared about.
Still, she didn't speak to him at all that day. The next day, Andrew was beginning to get irritated with her lack of silence as it was so unlike Percy. Fear bubbled in his stomach thinking about how Elysium may not ever be Percy again. If Andrew couldn't make her remember then who could? Then Andrew asked a single question, not expecting any sort of response.
"How old are you?"
Elysium turned her head to the side to look at him. She was surprised by the simple, blunt question. She decided to humor him, hoping after he got one reply, Andrew would cease speaking. "Didn't your parents ever tell you not to ask a woman's age?" Andrew raised an eyebrow, awaiting her answer. "2,015," she admitted.
Andrew felt like the whole world was collapsing in on him, which was not an unfamiliar feeling as he was forced by the titan Atlas to hold the world on his shoulders. She had lived 2,015 years in this world–2,015 years without him, meeting new people, seeing new things. 20 centuries was a long time to be away from everyone you loved. In the real world, Percy had only been gone for a year and a half. Andrew couldn't imagine living 2,015 years without Percy. Yet she did. The thought of her being fine with not seeing him for that long terrified Andrew. What if when they made her remember, she wouldn't want to go home with them? She had, after all, spent much longer in Middle Earth than she ever did back home.
"What's life like where you're from?" Andrew's voice was small and quiet, fearing her answer would be positive.
A small tugged at the usually still corners of Elysium's lips. It turned into a full-blown grin in a matter of seconds. "Imladris... is the most beautiful place I've ever been... serene." Suddenly her expression turned dark. Elysium grit her teeth and narrowed her green eyes. "Excluding these troubling times."
Andrew furrowed his brow, staring at her. "What do you mean?"
"My kin journey to the Undying Lands to stay out of this evil," Andrew gave her a confused look. "A realm only inhabited by immortals. It is separated by the ocean Belegaer. The evil is Sauron and the Ring," she explained. "Imladris is left empty and joyless. Elven children no longer dance to the plucking of harp strings. Our elven men and women do not sculpt or paint anymore. The pleasant sound of laughter no longer bounces from ear to ear, evoking smiles of tranquillity. No," her expression was sour now, like she had tasted something bitter. Andrew didn't like that look on her, but she managed to still look beautiful somehow. "Our halls and bridges are barren as they leave for the Undying Lands." Her eyes stoically looked forward, not daring to give Andrew any hint of emotion or weakness. She was shutting down; Andrew wouldn't let that happen when he just got her to open up.
"What about your family?" He questioned, not really wanting to hear about it, knowing that all the while, he would be thinking about Sally and Paul and Poseidon as they waited anxiously for them to return home with their daughter.
"What about my family?" She didn't turn to look at him, still staring straight ahead of them.
Andrew sighed, annoyed he had to explain further what he thought was an obviously easy request. "Describe them. What are they like?"
"My father is Lord of Rivendell, Elrond. My sister is Arwen; she is older than I."
Andrew frowned, not satisfied with her short, to-the-point answer. "What about your mother?" Elysium raised an eyebrow at his question. He sighed. "Who is your mother? Is she an elf too?"
Elysium shook her head. "She was not an elf, and I have no memory of her. My father tells me she was a mortal, which is why I am half-elven."
"You don't know who your mother is?" Andrew asked incredulously.
"No, as I stated before. She died before I could recollect, which must've been when I was quite young, months old," Elysium said. She didn't need to see the confused look on Andrew's tan face to explain further. "Elves' minds mature quickly, faster than Men. At 12 months, we can walk, talk, dance. We mature at around 100, most of us, and stop physically aging a small amount of time after that." Elysium glanced over at Andrew as he stared at her with his stormy grey eyes. She narrowed her eyes at him. "Why are you asking me these things?"
Andrew led his horse closer to hers inconspicuously as he stared into the sunrise like he'd seen done in hundreds of movies. Andrew was sure he didn't look as majestic as the actors in those movies, though. When he looked over at Elysium he couldn't help but admire her. She was as majestic as the actors in those movies, even more so as the orange, yellow, and purple light hit her face, highlighting her sharp features. In many ways she looked just like his Percy, but is other ways, Elysium and Percy were nothing alike. "To know you," Andrew finally replied. Elysium gave him a strange look.
"I don't understand."
Andrew laughed out loud, earning a sharp glare. He smiled widely at her. "It's just...I never thought I'd hear you say that again," 'Percy', Andrew thought. Percy had said that to him what seemed like a hundred times. 'I don't understand'.
"I don't understand," Percy groaned leaning heavily on Andrew's wheel-y desk chair, her hands splaying across Andrew's broad shoulders, pulling on the orange fabric of his camp t-shirt. She saw Andrew's cheeks move outwards slightly in a smirk as he set his chemistry book down carefully, remembering the page he was on. He was helping Percy study for her chemistry midterm that was, of course, the next day. She always waited until the last minute to study or do her assignments, and that meant that Andrew was obligated to help his girlfriend, not wanting her to fail.
"What don't you get?" Andrew asked with a smile as he turned around to face her. Percy stood above him with her arms crossed, a pout gracing her face.
"All of it."
"That's not good, Perce," Andrew laughed, earning a glare from the daughter of Poseidon.
"You don't know how hard it is to pay attention to Mr. Erickson drone on about chemical reactions or whatever when my desk is so soft and the classroom is so warm. The school is basically asking me to take naps," she supplied.
Andrew rolled his eyes, taking her by her hands. He pulled her close to him with a smirk. "Why didn't you study outside of school then?" He asked staring up at her.
Percy intertwined her fingers with his and grinned. "Too many distractions," she muttered staring at their intertwined fingers.
"You've gotta learn to block them out," Andrew suggested, pulling Percy even closer, onto his lap. Percy raised a dark eyebrow.
"How am I supposed to block them out...especially when they're blond, shirtless, and incredibly annoying?" She asked, a coy smiled crossing her face.
Andrew gasped, placing a hand on his heart, and opened his mouth to exclaim how hurt he was, but was cut off. Percy roughly pulled him into her and kissed him hard. Andrew smirked into the kiss, running his hands through her hair. Somehow, all of their study sessions ended like that.
Andrew grinned to himself and tore his gaze from Elysium's confused face. Despite their progress made, Elysium refused to speak to him until they had the capital of Gondor in sight. It was incredible in Andrew's opinion, a beautiful piece of architecture. Minas Tirith, as Elysium had called it, was encircled by a tall, white ringwall. It was seven stories tall, laying beneath the a mountain that Andrew couldn't remember how Elysium had pronounced. A spur of rock jutted out from the "castle" on the uppermost tier. The stonework was strong, but looked as though it was slowly crumbling away. Andrew guessed it had been made many, many years ago.
As they rode through the gates, the rhythmic sound of their horses' hooves clicking against the stone ground, night fell. The cold air blew against their skin, causing Andrew to shake, annoying his horse tremendously. Elysium cracked a smile, glancing over at the stallion, and then back up to Andrew. She bent down slightly, not stopping her horse as they trotted up the roads, making their way through the tiers, and pulled out a bundle. Elysium threw it to Andrew without warning. He barely caught it before it flew past him.
"Put it on. Your trembling is irritating Gwamyr," she smirked at Andrew's confused look. "The horse."
Andrew nodded his head, understanding. "What about you?" He kicked himself for that question, one similar to the questions he asked earlier–ones she didn't understand. "Won't you be cold?" Elysium shook her head and gave him a look that said 'just shut up and put it on'. Andrew nodded a thanks and pulled the heavy cloak over himself. Elysium's horse suddenly took off running up the road, and minutes later they were entering the seventh and final tier.
The guards of Mina's Tirith standing at their posts barely dodged Elysium and Andrew's steeds as they rode quickly up the steps and past a dead looking tree that Andrew thought seemed familiar. Elysium and Andrew came to a slow trot and finally a stop as four guards stepped in front of their horses. Elysium jumped down with grace, while Andrew stumbled off Gwamyr. One guard stepped forward.
"State your name and business." His tone was gruff and harsh, but Elysium did not flinch or react at all. Andrew slowly walked over to stand by the elf.
Elysium took off her cloak, setting it on her horse. "Lady Elysium of Rivendell, here to see Gandalf the White and His Grace, mighty Steward of Gondor." Her voice was like silk, calming and smooth, with a hint of supremacy as she stared into the eyes of the guard. He nodded over at Andrew, raising an eyebrow. "This is my companion, Andrew son of Chase. He is no threat to His Grace." The guard looked back at his men and motioned for one to join him.
"You will understand that we must take your weapons, Milady," he began as he took a step closer to Elysium.
She gave him a fake smile. "Of course." Elysium then proceeded to take out four daggers from her boots, a sword from her hip, and her bow and quiver from her back, giving them to the guard a bit reluctantly. She glanced over at Andrew, nodding. Andrew sighed, taking out his single, measly dagger and handing it over. The guard gave them one last look before turning and pushing the large, grand doors open.