I rode on my white horse, Mîr*, beside Amara. Amara's chestnut brown horse, Rhÿn*'s hooves pounded in time with my horse's as we led the army of elves out of the forest and towards our destination: Rivendell.
I didn't know what I was riding into. I didn't know what I was bringing my followers into. I most likely will be bringing them to their deaths....but they followed me nonetheless.
Amara seemed to see my worried expression and smiled at me.
"We will see another day, Lura," she comforted me.
"But what if we don't! I will lose ten years of my life for every elf who gives his or her life for this land...." said I.
"Do not tie your life to those of your army!" Amara told me. "You will return. We will not shed tears after this victorious battle."
"How can you be so optimistic about the future that looks so dark?" I asked her as we rode.
"I'm an optimist, and also your friend. It's what I do." Amara smiled at me, and I smiled back, my spirits lifting considerably.
As darkness fell over my army of elves, I decided to stop and make camp. Amara and I found a forest with soft leaves to lay on.
I tethered my horse to a tree with Amara's and let her graze on the soft grass. Then I walked away to check on all of my soldiers, making sure none were injured in the ride here.
One of the soldiers watched me from afar as I checked on the rest of them. As I swung by him and his horse on my rounds, I met his gaze.
"Hello, Lura," he said. "I've been wanting to speak with you,"
"You have?" I was confused. He looked serious. I couldn't read his expression. It looked quite emotionless. "You have,"
"Yes, I have," he nodded, his long brown hair moving in the light breeze. "Why would you bring all of us here to die?"
His question was hushed but very blunt, his words hitting me like a tree. "What do you mean?"
"Lura, we cannot be troubled by the troubles of our kin! We have troubles as well, and they are in the forest of the Woodland Realm, our home. Your home, my home. Why do you let it lie in ruin as we go riding off to fight the enemies of our snobby brothers?" He snapped.
"Why do we not? Why do we not ride to the aid of our brothers?" I asked him. "If your own brother was battling a great foe ten leagues away and you knew you could aid him, would you?"
"My brother is dead, thanks to you and the rest of your royal kind," said the elf before me.
"I am dreadfully sorry," said I.
"No, you are not. Your kind is never sorry, nor regretful. All you think of is the next shipment of wine, and not the welfare of your own people. My brother's life was taken during an ambush by Orcs by the River Anduin. Your father posted the guards there and left them there, neglecting to check on them or send reinforcements when aid was called for, as they could not keep up watch for long. They were tired. They had been watching the quiet river for three days with minimal rest. That was when the Orcs struck, swift and quiet as a mouse. All were silenced without more than a scream. My brother was the first to die. He covered for his friend, who managed to get away to ride for help. But the Orcs caught him in the end and tortured him in a brutal chamber. I had no knowledge of the slaughter until a scout saw the dead bodies, rotting on the ground many days later. My brother died, and all for what? For nothing. There were no songs written in his honor as there was for many elves less brave than he was. Your father did not care, and neither did your brother. You probably do not even know his name,"
I faltered as the story set into my mind. "I am sorry, my father does not let me outside of my room, usually,"
There was no sympathy in the eyes of the brown-haired elf. His olive skinned face was turning quite red as he stared me down. "His name was Aredhel. And my name? My name is Gwindor. You probably do not even know that. Shows what kind of leader you are," said Gwindor. His voice had risen to a loud speaking voice, and many elves around us had begun listening in. If I didn't silence Gwindor soon, I was going to have to have a mutiny on my hands...
"I am sorry, Gwindor, and although I admit I do not know the names of my subjects, I promise I will try to know them all," said I.
"What about the names of those who perish in this battle you have marched us to? Will you know those?" Gwindor shouted.
"Gwindor -"
"No, I will not let you speak. You have no right to speak. All of us are going to die and it will be your fault! Our people will fall after our deaths as they do not have enough soldiers to kill the threat that threatens our homeland! All of this will be your fault, Princess Lura," said Gwindor. "The death of the world will lie on your shoulders."
"Are you really that vain to think of the elves as the only beings holding the tattered pieces of this world together?" I asked him, taking a step back as he stepped towards me in anger.
"Yes, Princess Lura, I do. I know we are. We are the light in a world of darkness. Without us, the world will fall. If you kill us all, which you will, then the world will fall. This battle is folly! Can you all not see it? The death of us all will be the dawn! Our blood will run on the floors of the Rivendell palace as a red sun rises! Can you not see the soldiers around you, fighting to stay alive? Can you not feel the pain as you realize you've been ran through? Can you not realize we're following an elf whom we don't even know to our deaths?" Gwindor shot glances at everyone as they gripped their bows tighter. They looked from each other to Lura and then to Gwindor, faces turning to shock and anger.
I raised my hands in the air. "You guys chose to follow me," she said.
"Yes," said another elf, who I believe was named Aelrindel. "We did that because we were blind for your beauty. But now we realize that you knowingly lead us to our deaths! AAAAAH!"
The rest of the elves around me took up the cry. I stepped back as they advanced towards me, but soon found myself with my back against a tree, surrounded on all angles. It was a disaster. Were they l going to kill me or hurt me and leave me to die?
"Give her what she deserves!" Gwindor said, angry, twisted smile glinting at me.
The elves raised an arrow to their bows, and pulled back expertly. A firing squad of around fifty arrows surrounded me. The other elves were wondering what was going on, but didn't proceed.
In seconds, I was going to be killed.
In seconds, I'd be blasted on all angles by fifty arrows, all trained at my heart.
"Wait!" A familiar voice matched a familiar red haired elf who pushed through the circle. "What is going on here?" It was Amara!
"Justice," said Gwindor, smiling.
Amara whipped around to stare down Gwindor before stomping towards him, face red and hands clenched.
"Okay, Gwindor. You listen here." she said, standing close enough to punch him. He laughed, smirking.
"I said, YOU LISTEN HERE!"
He silenced.
"Alright, Gwindor. You think you're a tough guy? You think you're a rough guy? You think you've had enough, guy?"
I couldn't laugh at her joke. The adrenaline was pumping too hard.
"Well, this is what I think. I think, you're just a coward who is afraid to go into battle and instead of him sucking it up, being a man and doing so, he devised a way where he wouldn't have to. What kind of honor code to you have to make fifty members of the most allianced fleet in all of Middle Earth turn on their leader? Lura has a heart of gold. A heart of honor, and a heart of bravery. A heart that you don't have. A heart that you can't even DREAM of having. Because she, unlike you, is willing to risk her life in battle. Because she, unlike you, isn't a coward who rats out other people and gets them KILLED so they don't have to get blood on their hands. I'll have you know that although Lord Thranduil can get a bit drunk at times-"
"At times?" Gwindor laughed, however shaken by her words.
"Although Lord Thranduil can get a bit drunk at TIMES," she repeated, "there are some in our race that don't. Unfortunately, you do not fall into that category, GWINDOR."
She opened Gwindor's sack and took out a half empty bottle of wine.
Elves who were close enough to see gasped.
"Oh, and do I still smell some wine on your breath?" Amara leaned in closer but then pulled back with a disgusted face. "Yep, definitely wine. You've been drinking recently, haven't you?"
"Ummmm....." Gwindor couldn't think of anything to refute that, because in fact, he had been drinking.
"Not going to deny it?" Amara asked, raising an eye brow before turning to the elves who had put down their bows and put away their arrows. "See, you've been following a coward who can't practice what he preaches,"
The elves whispered amongst themselves.
My best friend turned again to face Gwindor, who stood speechless before her. "Seems like the preacher's lost his preach." She leaned in, so her face was inches from his. She stared with her cold, unfeeling eyes into his scared ones and smiled. She knew she had won. "How's that justice for you,"
Elves around me put down their bows and clapped. Gwindor turned and fled back to his horse.
Amara, back to her old playful self, leapt up and down. "Yeah! You better run, you coward!! Cowards always run! They run and they run and they run!! Always running! Just like you!!!"
I smiled, taking the first breath I had taken since when the arrows turned upon me. The elves dispersed, going to feed their horses before they set out again.
"Thanks, Amara. You saved my life," said Lura.
"Ah, no biggie," she said, eyes shining. "It was fun!"
I laughed, my eyes sparkling along with hers.
"No, but seriously, thank you. You saved my life, and now I owe you everything," said I.
"Why are you so formal all the time?" Amara cocked her head slightly. "Calm down! Nothing life threatening is ever going to happen to me. It's not as if I'm important or anything,"
"Hey, hey, hey, Amara, you are important! You're my best friend! Of course you're important! Without you, who would I be?" I asked, smiling at her.
"Hmmm....good question. Oh! I know! Maybe a dancing bear. I could see you as a dancing bear!" Amara started skipping around the clearing, pirouetting and spinning around like 'a dancing bear'.
"No, that's not what I meant-"
"Oh! No, no, no, I know what you'd be! A singing bear! Because have you seen your dancing?" Amara shook her head disappointedly.
I laughed. "Amara, that's not what I meant by-"
"No! I know what you'd be! Maybe a bunny. Aren't those bunnies so cute!" said Amara. "Just exactly how General Saevel sees you!"
My smile faded. "What?"
So did Amara's. "Oh wait, I probably shouldn't have said that,"
"No, no, no, honey, what did you say?" I stared at Amara, who looked as if she wanted to be any other place than here.
"Ya know, I probably should just.....go...." she said, running right past me. I turned to follow her and ran right into none other than....
General Saevel.
Saevel's long dirty blonde hair blew in the gentle breeze as his hazel eyes looked down at me awkwardly. His skin was tan, and his arms showed muscle even through the sleeve. He was INCREDIBLY tall, so even though I was taller than a tall man, he still had to look down to meet my eyes.
And he was CLOSE. Uncomfortably close.
"Hello, Lura," he said, clearing his throat.
~•~
Elven Phrases:
Mîr: Jewel, Treasure
Rhÿn: Chaser