Hwiltis

This is the second part of my expansion of Hwiltis' story, Strange Fates. The first may be found here.

"Was it when the Elvenking kept me in his halls, after his wardens dredged me from the accursed river? How many years ago now..."
   - Strange Fates

    *      *      *

   Legelion sat astride a broad beechen bough, his dangling legs drumming his bare heels against the silver bark; his eyes watched the glimmering river below flowing swiftly along its passage eastwards. Its course was set and the waters knew whither their journey between its wide banks led, but his own path was as uncertain as fallen red leaves flurried by an autumn wind.
   His young heart was troubled by this uncertainty, for his thoughts dwelt upon their strange guest. His fingers unwittingly twined the severed ends of his dark hair that hung down now but to his shoulders, while in his mind's eye he saw again the flash of bright steel in the gloom as it sundered the wood-troll's deadly hold, and his glimpse of the fey wrath upon the face of the elf-maiden as she assailed her foe. Their paths had crossed once before, she had told him, and he wondered at the doom that had brought about this second chance meeting, if chance it was!

*      *      *

   The marchwardens had swiftly heeded Legelion's winged messenger and hastened to aid the stricken huntress; an elven boat was fetched to bring her quickly down the Forest River to the fastness of the Elvenking. The night was old and the morning star was in the sky when they came at last to the great gates, and Teithorin bade them to bring her to a chamber set aside; for the boy's was not the only winged messenger that day, and his teacher and Amdirren his mother had been summoned there to meet them. With them was Gellin his father and his father's father, Echeleb, and while the elf-maiden was put abed under the care of the king's healers, Legelion and his kin were led to the chamber of Thranduil.
    There in the great hall, between high pillars hewn out of the living stone, the boy had stood alone before the carven throne of the Elvenking, and while all the Elves gathered therein bent their ears to hear his words, he had recounted his full tale. Thranduil had hearkened closely but his face betrayed not his thought, and when the elf-child was done he had beckoned to his chamberlain.
   'Redouble the watch on the fences of Tholkát! None of the Taurogrim must again come upon us unawares!' he commanded and then had bade them take their leave.
   Thereafter Legelion had followed his mother to the chamber wherein the stranger was laid, and the healers there had welcomed her with gladness, for the skill of Amdirren Reniel was renowned among the woodland folk. Long she tended the sleeping elf-woman, till at last she reeled as if smote by a blow and her son had leapt to her side.
   'I am unharmed, only weary,' she had assured him with a smile; then to the healers she said, 'The spell of forgetfulness I have abated and her fae is strong; naught will she forget. But her sleep is not of the enchantment only, which lasts but a week of days^[1], there is aught amiss... there is something else that strives against my art! I deem the claws of the taurog bore the potent poison of their kind, and I shall thus prepare a curative draught of Celeblam which will contain its corruption. But alas, I fear her slumber will be long.'

*      *      *

   The eyes of Wood-elves are keen and their ears ever ready for tidings or for rumour, and news of their strange guest had swiftly spread. The halls were abuzz with talk of the elf-maiden, and questions flew between them like bees amongst the woodland flowers. Ever wary of strangers,^[2] they had asked one another who she could be and whence she came; and if she had come to the small Green-elf boy's aid by happy chance, or if it had been chance at all? They doubted not that she was an Elf and therefore kindred, but they wondered how it was that no one knew of her ere her mischance in the stream? Mirkwood is vast they agreed, but for one to dwell alone beneath the whispering trees, amidst the evil peril of the Shadow and the fell creatures that abode within their beloved woods... was the taint of the Dark Power upon her heart?
   To these many questions Legelion simply shrugged his shoulders and replied, 'I know not!'

*      *      *

   For a fortnight and a half the stranger had slept, and each day Legelion would visit the bedside of his saviour. With him he would bring tasty morsels as a treat lest she awake: one day a red apple, or a sweet honey-cake the next. But alas, it was he who always ate the dainty as he watched her slumber, her face smiling from her enchanted dreams, and he wondered whereof she dreamt.
   And now that he could see her clearly, he had marked her hair was black as starless night, and its thick braid fell down to her haunches; she was clad in a well-worn tunic of dark leather (the hide of a black Mirkwood wolf, Echeleb had deemed!) and her limbs were bare and sun-bronzed to a hue darker even than his own. Her feet were unshod akin to his Laegren clan-folk, and he wondered thereof, and thought that mayhap she might be kin long lost; and that part of him that loved words wondered at her battle-cry, for her speech had been Sindarin, though her accent strange to him, but she had invoked the light of "Paanu" and he knew not what tongue that was.

   On some days he had lingered long beside her, and though she could not hear his words he told her of the merry gossip of the Wood-elves, his woodland life, his kin, his lessons with Teithoron... his young hopes and childhood fears. And all the while he waited he would wish that she would awaken from her enchanted slumber for he much desired to speak with her, to thank her for his rescue... and to beseech her forgiveness.
   For even now as he perched high up in the branches of the beech-tree by the riverside, his heart bore this burden: he held himself to blame for her misfortune and deemed it was his folly that brought her to his aid, and thus to this end; that if his purpose had not gone amiss she would yet be unharmed and freely wandering beneath the green-shadowed trees!

   But he had been there alone when at last her eyelids had fluttered open, and even now he felt his cheeks flush at the remembrance...

*      *      *

   The chamber was small, but well furnished and comfortable; crystal lamps lit her still form that lay upon a low soft bed, and her skin gleamed golden in their light. Legelion sat cross-legged upon the carpet, chewing thoughtfully on the apple he had brought that day.
   Then he saw her eyes open and they darted from side to side, taking in her strange surroundings. Bewildered at finding herself indoors she tried to rise, but she had not the strength of limb and fell back onto the soft pillows. And though he had long awaited this moment, Legelion's wits failed him, and springing to his feet he proffered to her the half-eaten apple he held in his hand.
   'I brought for you an apple,' he said. She glanced at the gnawed fruit and then fixed her gaze upon him, her thick brows in a frown. Laegren eyes are of a hazel hue, greener than the grey eyes of the Sindar, but never had he seen eyes of such pure and piercing green! Abashed, he blushed.
   'Who are you?' she asked in a soft voice, despite her alarm, and the boy marked again the strange lilt he had heard in their battle, but all the more musical for the gentleness of her speech.
   'I am Legelion son of Amdirren, the healer who tended you these many days,' he replied, and awaited her own introduction. Silently she stared at his small face, and with no reply forthcoming he stammered, ' I... I told you of her... O!' he blushed again, recalling that she had slept all the while he had prattled.

   'He spoke long to you while you slept,' said a familiar voice, and Teithoron glided into the chamber.
   'Teithoron!' exclaimed Legelion. 'You heard my words?' he asked.
   'Nay, but the walls of these Halls have many ears, and where ears listen then tongues are wont to wag!'
   'And they have been wagging enough to cast a breeze!' the boy said sourly.
Beyond the open door he heard the merry laughter of the doorwardens without. The elf-child was aghast! Did all of Thranduil's court now know his secret thoughts? Heedless had he been to speak so freely!
   'But now I must report to the king of your awakening,' the scribe told their guest. 'Legelion, you must depart. Go now, and summon your mother hither.'
   'Let him stay.' Teithoron raised his brows at the voice of the elf-maiden, for the manner of her speech tugged at his long memory. He gave her a hard look and said, 'Very well. But be brief, child, and be gone ere I return with the king. I will send the message to Amdirren; but I fear that without the king's leave you cannot come back.'

   When the scribe was gone, Legelion turned back to the elf-woman. 'You have my thanks,' he said with a small bow, and she smiled to see this. 'How feel you? Are you well? What is your name?' His questions gushed forth.
   "I am thirsty,' was all she said.
The elf-child hurried to the burnished table in the corner of the chamber, upon which stood a number of bottles and flasks.
   'This is a draught of Celeblam,' he said, flourishing a flask, 'made by my mother's hands. She is a healer... O! But that you know! Ah, and this is miruvor, it will bring comfort for your hurts and weariness!'
He poured the clear fragrant cordial carefully into a crystal goblet. 'It  comes from Imladris and is very precious!' he told her and passed the drink into her slender hand. Then he knelt beside the bed as she slowly sipped, and over the goblet's rim she watched him with her bright green eyes.
   'Is it not like the nectar of woodland flowers mingled with starlight? Or have you tasted it afore? Can you feel your strength of heart renewed and all hope refreshed? Teithoron, my teacher, told that it is named for miruvórë which is made in Avon from the golden flowers of Ivon! Is that tale not wonderful? I am very fond of tales.'
Still she looked at him, but she spoke no more. Indeed, it seemed that in her thoughts she was weighing carefully his every word, and he deemed that perhaps she found him wanting.
   'O! Alas, I babble like a brook!' he cried and the huntress laughed; it was soft and musical, like a clear spring that bubbles forth from rock.
   'He says also that I have an over merry tongue,' he grinned with relief.

   'I know your face,' she murmured at last.
   'Aye, it was but lately assailed by a wood-troll and you may well have glimpsed it below your sweeping blade!' Legelion laughed, but secretly he wondered his mother's skill had failed the elf-maiden's memory.
   'From aforetime.' Her voice was almost a whisper.
He shook his head in bewilderment. 'Aforetime?'
   'You love to dance and play your flute.'
   'You have watched me in the greenwood?' he asked, astonished.
She nodded. 'I have.'
   'But why did you not reveal yourself?'
She shrugged. 'It is my way.'
   'As you wish, but it would have greatly gladdened my heart.'
She smiled sadly.

   'But time wears on and there is something I would say to you ere I must go,' the boy said, for his mind was awhirl and her lips had fallen silent once more. And with halting words he tried to begin the speech of thanks and forgiveness he had prepared during his long wait, but at that very moment there came an urgent call from the doorway. 'Thranduil Elvenking comes!' He sighed heavily and stood to take his leave.
   'My name is Peldis in your tongue,' she said suddenly as he turned to go.
   'And in yours, lady?' he asked gratefully.
   'Hwiltis.'
   '"Hwiltis",' he tried it on his tongue and smiled. 'Then that is how you shall be known to me. Farewell, Hwiltis! I shall see you on the morrow and tell you all then.'

*      *      *

   But, alas, he did not. For when Legelion came the next day to the door, it was closed and barred against one and all. 'By the King's command!' said the guard, and would brook no argument or plea from the boy. For four more days he tried, and each time he was told, 'Do not gainsay the Elvenking!' But on the fifth day he found the door unguarded and open wide, and looking in saw that it was empty.

   He knew not what words had passed between Hwiltis and Thranduil Elvenking, nor could Teithoron answer his many questions. 'She is gone,' he told the boy, 'but she bade me tell you farewell. Alas, that is all I have leave to say.'
   But the scribe did quietly tell him one small secret to ease his heart's dismay, and this news the young Elf had long pondered up in the branches of his tree: the elder Elf deemed she was of the Evair, long sundered from the Eldar in the Elder Days, and this filled Legelion's heart with delight. An Avar in the Woodland Realm! And twice now their paths had crossed, surely they might yet meet again. 'Third time is the charm!' he thought with a merry smile. He would yet thank her and beseech her pardon, one day!

   Legelion dropped lightly to the earth and ran for home. There his gentle mother welcomed him with her embrace, in her arms and with her spirit both, and she knew that he had reconciled his hurt.
   'Are you now ready for your next adventure?' she asked, 'or shall we have peace now for a little while?' Her son laughed and she reached out to touch his shorn hair. 'This one has cost you dearly,'^[3] she remarked, 'but it shall regrow with time.'
   'Nay,' he said. 'I deem I shall keep it thus as a remembrance. And no troll shall again catch me by my tresses!'

*      *      *

** My profound gratitude to Hwiltis for her patience in answering my many, many questions! **
(And, of course, for writing the wonderful story that inspired this one!)
(And the gorgeous screenshots!)

[1] "For ritual rather than practical purposes the Eldar observed a week or enquië of six days."
- The Lord of the Rings, Appendix D, "The Calendars"
[2] "If [the Wood-elves] have a fault it is distrust of strangers."
- The Hobbit, 'Flies and Spiders'
[3] “All the Eldar had beautiful hair (and were especially attracted by hair of exceptional loveliness)..."
- The Peoples of Middle-earth, 'The Shibboleth of Feanor'

It should be noted that this tale is set in the 2983rd year of the Third Age, when Legelion was but eighteen years of age; also that these anecdotes are not in strict chronological order

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