Love and the rebel
All’s well, that ends well, or so the saying goes...
After being viciously slandered in public on two separate occasions by the prosecution Lossehelin , and having her reputation fully besmirched within the house of Vanimar through his stealth propaganda, Isoldis attended her trial in Imladris to answer for her insubordination. Treason they claimed! Against the house, the Tûr and mostly, the innocent Galdorion, whom she aided and abetted in his escape, whilst he was under strict orders to remain. By way of feminine cunning, Isoldis had sent him to his own death, the stern Noldor Lords surmised. Why, she might as well have pushed him off a cliff edge, after claiming that happiness lie at its bottom! Lossehelin made a frightening attack upon her in all the shades of black he could muster from within. An easy task for one so bereft of soul.
Of course, Isoldis had no such agenda, yet, she saw a passion in Galdorion’s heart, to reflect her own, and thus, to refuse him aid, was tantamount to denying herself! And thus, she gifted him the chance to prove himself, for love! She could only hope that he would return, and serve his Tûr and the Order of the Arrow for the betterment of Vanimar! If he ever returned. If!
That if was a wild act of faith on Isoldis’ part and one that swiftly put her in the firing line, a black wall of Noldor coming to surround her like a violent storm rolling in from the seas, blacking out the sun with harsh words and sullen moods. They sought retribution by any means, a pound of her flesh no doubt! Lossehelin’s hateful expressions and piercing eyes made her skin crawl, whilst his eager condemnation sought nothing less than to set precedence in the severity of punishment.
Introspectively, Isoldis was deeply afraid of her unknown future, yet never should she scribe fear into her features for the benefit of Lossehelin. She stood upright, with the courage of her convictions surging through her veins like rods of elven steel, her loyal friend and brother in all but true-blood, Gilandros, stepping forward to speak as her defence.
“Did you think I would leave you to face this alone?” He had winked softly to her when they had met upon the road leading to the trial, and when the moment came to speak her piece, he duly appealed to the crowds and judges alike to consider what elvendom fought for, if not for love. And as the opinion of the masses swayed back and forth, the crowd eventually parted like curtains, as two bodies sought their way to the interior of the circle, clenching hands tightly as all eyes landed upon the newly returned, Galdorion and Rainith.
Immediately, Isoldis sank with a measure of relief, relaxing her shoulders and glancing to Gilandros for silent succour as the young couple begged to be heard. With a hushed surround of faces, Galdorion spoke of his reasons, claiming proudly,
“I have returned, with Rainith by my side!”
“But you must have been DEAD...” Lossehelin was struck with disbelief, but the dead were walking upright, and Galdorion surged forth upon his declaration of love.
“What they say is true, I have fled whilst under strict orders! I was... I was doing nothing else than following my heart...I am servant of the caun, after my heart. I can’t sell my heart... I can't rip my feelings off myself! I had to follow this heated heart and its biddings! I could not sit idle, whilst Rainith was in danger.”
Swift as an eagle upon its prey, Lossehelin sought to reject his words, but Galdorion was faster, retorting with a measure of cunning not seen from him before. “Are you not mighty Noldor lords, who did choose to act instead of sitting next to Valar's feet?” and with that,the harshness of the crimes were substantially lessened and it only remained that those who had infringed the rules of the house, be served suitable punishments, meted out by Lord Vorongwe, presiding as judge.
And after the trial was concluded, and friends greeted back the dead, paid respect to their supporters and all murmurs were settled like the sudden calming of that ferocious storm, Isoldis was left to wonder what her future held. Galdorion and Rainith had won bliss between them, and their friends could sleep again at night without worry, and the Noldor Lords of Vanimar could rest easy in their duties and discipline once again...but what of the lady who took to rebellion like a swan to water?
She, who shrugged off the dominance of those old Noldor lords and their absence of feeling like water from the swan’s back. She, who was the flame, in all its chaotic temperament. Fire, was a fey maiden of scratch and bite, yet, if it was tamed, it brought sustenance in food, succour in warmth and wrought gifts in the forging of weaponry and fine objects. But it must be tamed! Or else, the flame brought only destruction, easy...easy destruction.
Isoldis smiled to herself, she had enjoyed rebellion too much!
