Wild Monster

by Matthew Harrington

  "How do you propose we act?" the Sage heard himself say. He felt a relief he in the end acted in a way that wouldn't pose him more self doubt.

  "Firstly, I believe we should ask the guards that were assigned to protect the area during that time before we begin with the deeper search for the rat," Meatherion eagerly suggested to which some of them silently agreed with a determined nod.

  "Is it possible there is a whole collection of them?" Calaron continued with the questions.

  "We must be prepared for the unexpected," Thranduil smartly intervened. "We must assume there is an unidentified circle of conspirators that has been thus far very successful in their endeavours. The only way we could expose them is to think few steps ahead and wait for them to make a mistake."

  "Wouldn't you suppose that if such 'circle' has been able to operate unseen and undetected right in front of our noses to such outrageous level they even managed to execute one of our own people, that they have already been careful enough to know when not to make mistakes?" Calaron objected. The rest of them couldn't find a justifiable argument to fight him with against this notion.

  It even took Thranduil a few seconds to let those words sink in. Not that he wasn't capable of understanding them the minute he heard them, the stated was simply so shocking that he could not believe it to be the truth at first. He immediately knew Calaron was not throwing them unnecessary doubt and trying to discourage them, quite the opposite. He was aware of the real situation and it was impossibly intrigued to such extent they were forced to take into consideration all the facts and leave their prejudices as their expectations behind. They needed to do what the situation asked them to do, not what they wished to do. Dire circumstances such as these never required mercy and compassion, but rather calculated and striking moves. The necessary actions that needed to be taken called for a huge amount of courage, a strict and cunning strategy, and incessant determination. Although it started to become quite clear to Thranduil what sort of actions they all had in mind.

  "What do you think?" Thranduil's voice echoed. To whom the voice was directed was unknown.

  Once certain people (such as Calaron and Meatherion, who had already contributed a significant input to the discussion) eliminated themselves and started looking around the room, all eyes seemed to land on the reticent elleth who appeared to busy counting the seams on her velvet garment rather than participate in the conversation. When Aireiel became aware that the room had gone oddly quiet, she finally decided to look up and was mildly shocked at the result.

  "Were you speaking to me, my Lord?" she asked in disbelief.

  "Yes, you, young lady," the King replied with a soft laugh that melted Aireiel's heart. She started to notice small, yet evident similarities to his son. For a brief second she unconsciously and spontaneously believed she was speaking to the Prince and not his father since she was so caught up in the brevity of the breathtaking moment.

  "I think I am in no position to have a ready opinion, Your Majesty."

  "I suspect you are almost entirely composed of ready opinions not yet shared," Thranduil pressured further.

  As a consequence of Thhranduil's bold response, Aireiel found herself in a very awkward position. The formal convention forbid her to object the King (to which her father would gladly agree), while her conscience told her to never bow to such humiliation of being superficially analysed by someone who thought they knew her, regardless of that person's position or status. Alright, time for consequence analysis. What more could they do to them? They were under impression she and her father were in possession of some important knowledge that yet remained unknown to them. In such circumstances it would be simply foolish of them to have them both killed or tortured because of two reasons: if they killed them now, they would carry that knowledge to their graves, and Aireiel also somehow highly doubted Legolas would approve of any harm being done to them. The only option that had remained was to act on behalf of her proud conscience.

  "In the end it always matters who I decide to share them with," Aireiel wittily answered to his offensive, but not entirely false observation.

  The great King let out a faint chuckle before he began to contemplate how to get the elleth to speak. As much as he held the little minx in high esteem, he also was starting to become slightly infuriated with her. While he admired and appreciated even the most modest signs of healthy rebellion and nonconformity, he did not like when he was overshadowed by someone. It was refreshing meeting someone wild, raw, and genuine which was the exact opposite of what he was used to in the palace. However, he was born in the spotlight, and he wished to maintain that renown.

  Of course, Thranduil was not the only one who was feeling rather disapproval of elleth's choice of words. Edenir was more or less bursting with anger, but his eyes remained as stoic and unaffected as if it weren't his own daughter disobeying the agreement the two had made at the earlier time of their arrival.

  "Would you be so kind as to indulge us for this special occasion and share with us your insight into what has been recently discussed?" Thranduil asked with obvious mockery in his voice that provoked in the elleth a smile so lovely, so heartfelt, so familiar it sent chills down his spine.

  "Why, naturally, my Lord. The last thing anyone would want is to be short of my opinion, am I right?" Aireiel looked around in hope she would find a glare that would burn alike her heart at the moment, one that would encourage her in her actions. She was not exactly surprised when all she found were bored, pitiful eyes, pointed at her in faked expectation. Nonetheless, she seized the opportunity that had been so generously placed in front of her.

  "My opinion on the matter is plain and simple – we should fight," was a response that now fully awoke those who had dazed off during the dull discussion. "I believe the nation needs to stand for its people, values, and honour. If you are not capable of doing so, you might as well capitulate before they come to collect you."

  From first to last person present in the room was utterly shocked at what the elleth had just uttered. Nobody in the room had expected such audacity addressed directly at the King, especially from a guest that had just recently been welcomed into the palace and had been under His Majesty's mercy ever since. Even now, once the words were lingering in the air above them like a dark, heavy cloud, they refused to believe them to be the truth, although everybody secretly knew it was something that definitely needed to be spoken out loud in front of the King. They simply couldn't confront them and accept them as something that was necessary to take into consideration if they wished the Realm to return with a stronger and more efficient strategy.

  Aireiel, who only now became aware of the weight of her words, couldn't dare to look her father straight into the eyes. She realised she had broken their agreement of being as invisible, unobtrusive, and inconspicuous long time ago, and that if her words should be misinterpreted it would mean the end of world as they knew it or even ruin itself. She knew exposing them in such reckless and imprudent way would have probably done more damage than good (as she initially intended), but she decided to voice her opinion nonetheless. Moreover, since the King himself bade her to speak her mind it would be downright disrespectful and impolite to reject his request. At least that was what Aireiel was repeating in her head to calm her guilty conscience that somehow began to take over her.

  Even though decades in the wilderness had taught the young elleth many things, including caution, reticence, and regard for consequences, she was rarely given an opportunity to take the cold, heavy armour off and experience the real world she thought she'd forgotten during the years of solitude that had passed. It was overwhelming and liberating to set her unruly soul free from time to time as it was exhilarating to show the world she was still fierce and lethal even beneath that armour of hers. Her father might have wanted her to choose a different, safer path and she understood he meant it for the sake her own well-being, however it was only Aireiel who truly knew the will of her heart. And she knew she must obey it for this wo
uld mean a far greater contribution to her overall health than hiding, tameness, and grovelling ever could.

  It is needless to say Thranduil was most astonished at her words of all for they were aimed directly at him. Such radical ideas usually called for immediate reaction in the sense of imprisoning the impudent bastard. This time Thranduil decided to yet again excuse the elleth her presumption, however it only now came to him it was in fact him who pressured her to say whatever she had to say, regardless of its controversy. That meant whoever felt somehow offended by her words would have to demand an explanation from the King why he allowed the presence of such inexperienced, oblivious little elleth in the first place. Thranduil gathered the courage to take a glimpse at the group of people in front of him and was rather surprised to see none of them seemed exactly appalled at the elleth's words. Furthermore, they appeared to enjoy her brave show (with the notable exception of her outraged father of course) and some even subtly approved of her idea. She seemed to had successfully enchanted them with her abiding charm which Thranduil found both displeasing and satisfying. He was pleased to see his flame-haired elleth was approved by the rest of the members of his circle, but he was also bitter and angry to see how much they began to revel in her appearance. It could nowhere nearly be defined as jealousy for Aireiel did not represent someone Thranduil could genuinely care for and be attached to; he was simply irritated by the idea of this jewel of a creature being taken away from him or adored by the eyes of anyone but him.

  "While I profoundly appreciate your enthusiasm and passion, I'd rather see we solve this without unnecessary blood spill," he at last declared. Aireiel did not flinch.

  "And how would you define what happened to the ellon that was murdered at your own court? A poor victim of unfortunate circumstances?" she boldly argued.

  "That is enough!" Thranduil snapped, his frame considerably widened and rigid which created a threatening, intimidating pose he was trying to achieve. He was so overwhelmed by the moment that he completely forgot just how much he had spilled his emotions in front of everyone. This was not his usual behaviour, far from it. It was again this provocative newcomer's fault for the reckless and mindless manner he used to address both the guests as his colleagues in an entirely different way as he wished to. "I have asked for your opinion alone, without unnecessary, and should I add incongruous commentary. You are indeed entitled to form a certain viewpoint on the matter – that is the right I have yet not chose to deny you, therefore do not tempt me to carry out such threats. If you should impose your views but once more, I can assure you it shall be the last time you would ever even think of any similar audacity."

  This persistent, fiery creature yet again managed to get to his core where he was most vulnerable, where he vowed to himself, after his mel had faded from his life, he would not let anyone through his shield. Still, she was able to find a way in. Thranduil did not know what shocked him more: the fact that his defence and guard turned out to be not as strong as he presumed or the fact that in this moment he was confronted with second most vexing being he had ever encountered. (Mel = love)

  Before any further damage could be caused to the already fatal situation, Edenir decided to step in, despite his inputs being often unwanted or declined by the word of the King himself.

  "I beg you to forgive my daughter's insolence, Your Majesty, it won't happen again," his humble voice pleaded.

  "Indeed, you should learn to control your iel better for such behaviour could soon lead to serious consequences," Thranduil replied, his words wrapped in ruthless cold that even managed to surprised the dauntless elleth. He was somehow able to unwind his taut pose he'd been using to intimidate the elleth, as he settled deeper in his chair.

  Even though forgiveness was truly an unexpected outcome of this feud that might show the King was still willing to let these moronic guests live for a little while longer, Thranduil could never forget her outraged voice that now echoed in his mind, numbed from the weight of her words that now pushed against his skull in the rhythm of his pulse.

  Only once in his entire lifetime had he faced an elleth with such limitless mind, wild spirit, and sharp tongue like Aireiel's. The reminiscence of a familiar scent of jasmine and lavender, of long locks as bright as summer sunshine caressing his skin in a mild breeze, of a warm smile formed by the lips pressed against his pale skin, and of a love so devoted, so brave and strong took him back hundreds of years to a time he thought he'd forgotten but apparently remained stuck in a corner of his subconsciousness. There she was again, floating in front of him like a celestial being that she was. The image of her swaying in the thick summer air, covered in nothing but light, transparent lilac toga exposing her silken skin at the shoulders and gently dancing with the wind along with the forest creatures, evoked a feeling so striking it almost made his knees forget their basic function. Suddenly, he was out of breath and a sensation progressed to the level of an intense vertigo. Thranduil instantly lost the ability of perceiving the environment around him as well as the sense of orientation. Before he was able to acknowledge what was happening to him and shout for help, his head was already rapidly falling towards the floor. The only thing he was able to utter into the unknown (probably meant as a prayer to the Gods above mocking his weakness) as foreign arms were trying to prevent his unexpected collapse was: "Return to me, Itheliel..."

  1A huge poisonous, predatory serpent in the south of Mirkwood.

  The air surrounding the lying figure whose forehead was covered in silken, soaked compress, was much more pure and fresh as the one he last remembered. The King fervently opened his eyes once he was aware of his surroundings, but was bitterly disappointed to find out his limbs and muscles were still too feeble to enable him a straight posture. As reason replaced the pounding pain in his head, he was not as surprised to realise he was alone in his dim chamber. How long have I been detained in here? The King tried his best to quench the growing panic within him and think rationally with now fully operating reason.

  The last thing he managed to salvage from his memory was horrendous dizziness that even now stung his insides just at the thought of it and made his complexion grow even paler than it already was as a gift of nature. After that it was all a state of complete darkness. Except one moment. He could not tell how deep and long he had been unconscious by then, but somewhere in the middle of the entranced experience he remembered having sensed warmth, most probably of natural cause. Even though his eyelids were tightly shut during that phase, he could swear there was a beam of light shining directly upon him, originating from an unknown source. Only then he was beginning to understand his mind had most likely been taken advantage of by an unidentified force and that he must resist it by all means. If only he had had the necessary strength. All of a sudden, a voice came through that single beam of heavenly light. The voice was so divine, pure, and ethereal it could have only belonged to one person.

  "Leitho, nin rod beren," the voice entreated. "Leitho nin o lín rín." (Release, my brave warrior. Release me from your memory.)

  At first he refused it to be true, he denied the obvious. But once he let the voice roam through his head, he was certain. It must have been her. Only she could make him allow her to whisper to him in such tempting manner. He admitted it would have been futile to attempt at ascertaining how by Gods she had managed to entered his mind like that, although there was a possibility it was all a deception, a nasty trickery to force him to succumb to the Darkness. However, in that moment he did not care at all if it were the Dark Lord himself poking through his most sensitive and confidential memories. All that mattered in that moment was that he got to listen to the heavenly voice once again after decades beyond his count had passed when he had last heard her. Thranduil was aware a godsend such as this did not come along randomly and especially not very often, so he intended to enjoy it as much as he could.

  He gave in to the warmth as it started to embrace his entire body, accompanied with pleasant shivers. It was a sensation so enslav
ing he could not fight it if he tried or wished to. He was even somehow embarrassed he displayed such weakness and proneness to had permitted the mysterious force to search the deepest corners of his mind in such absurd way, yet he was not willing to take any action against it whatsoever. The behaviour he was under at the moment was so atypical of him, he could find no logical explanation for it. It was as if his entire being had subjected to this one goal that was getting closer and closer in order to reach the source of the undying light. To reach her.

  "My Lord, you're awake!" a familiar tone awoke him then from his thoughts of remembering the past incident.

  Calaron descended the yellow stone stairs with admirable speed and haste that slightly startled the frail King. Thranduil noticed Calaron was attired in a different robe than the one he used to attend the summoning. As the Sage was progressing towards his sumptuous sleeping quarters, Thranduil used the quick second to turn to his right where he noticed the small pond of crystal water directly opposite of the stairs Calaron had just now reached the end of. During the day, the beams of sunshine would shine straight onto the pond's surface so the water would turn almost every known shade of turquoise. Now, the only source of light that seemed to conjure the pond to even darker colour than the depths of the deepest oceans, were the miniature lanterns and torches radiating with medium light. Thranduil managed to deduce it was a very dark night Calaron had chosen as a time of his visit.