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| Neithawen's Deception |
| 5. Preparations |
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Neithawen made her way up the path to the halls. She could feel his eyes upon her back as she wound through the tunnels. All she could think of was, 'who is he? I should have asked him his name.' But then she realized that would have been a foolish thing to do. 'If I had asked him for his name, he would have asked me for mine. And I can't let anyone know who I am. Any one else, that is.' She emerged back into the main building, and, making sure that no one was around, slipped back into her room unnoticed. Her next preparations would be harder to accomplish. Her hair, now down past her lower back, would have to be shortened. And styled in a less feminine way. Her mind strayed to when she used to watch her father do up his hair. "The key is," he would always say, "is to make yourself handsome, not beautiful. That way, it's more masculine." Neithawen sighed. It would be hard to cut her hair, not only in a physical manner, but emotional as well. Her hair was the mark of her beauty, red-golden in color, a shade not normally found in elves. She wondered if anyone else would realize that she and her male counter-part were the same people. Maybe if she just avoided her father, it'd be all right. Her thoughts turned to how she would accomplish this. It wasn't going to be as easy as she had hoped. She had the clothes, she would soon have the hair, but how was she to explain away her sudden appearance and readiness to fight. She hoped that she could come just before they depart, and no one would ask. She sighed. A knock at her door startled her. "Come in," she called. An elf opened the door slightly. "My lady," he said, "you are summoned before the King." "Oh. Yes, one moment, please." The messenger shut the door and Neithawen looked into the small mirror over the mantle piece. 'Well,' she thought to herself, 'if there was ever a time that I needed to look feminine, it's now'. She pulled up her hair quickly and in the most feminine way she knew how, and put on her most feminine dress, a long blue one with white lace trim and a sweepingly low neckline. She glanced in the looking glass one more time, and opened the door. The messenger was still waiting there, standing in a relaxed position against the wall. "Ready, hiril?" he asked, straightening up. "I believe so, yes." She paused for a second. "Do you know what it is the King requests of me?" "I believe he would like you to meet his son, Legolas," the messenger replied casually. They arrived in the entrance hall to Thranduil's throne room. Neithawen stepped through the tall, grandly carved doors, and approached the king. Her father, Maeglin, sat next to his throne. "You requested my presence, my lord?" Neithawen asked as she bowed slightly. "Yes, Neithawen, I did." "I am honored by it, King Thranduil," she said. "Thank you." "Please, none of the formalities. I would like you to meet my son, Legolas, although he does not regard my summons as you do, my lady." The King smiled at his own joke. "Please, Neithawen, sit down." He motioned to a chair near Maeglin's. Neithawen sat down. Her father smiled at her. 'I must remember not to let him see me when I'm a soldier,' she thought. Suddenly a door to the right side of the hall banged open, and in came the man she had bumped into down in the caves. He stopped in mid-stride and stared at her. It was a moment before he collected his thoughts. He pretended he hadn't recognized her. "You called for me, father?" "Yes, and you'd do well to come sooner. I want you to meet Maeglin, my friend of old, and his lovely daughter, Neithawen," King Thranduil said. "It is a pleasure, my lord Maeglin, to make your acquaintance." He bowed to Maeglin and smiled. Then he turned to Neithawen. "And you, lovely Neithawen. It is my pleasure to make your acquaintance." He smiled softly and kissed her hand. Neithawen blushed. "And I am honored to make yours, my lord Legolas," she said, bowing her head slightly. When she lifted her head, his eyes locked on to hers, like they had in the dark halls of the underground. He smiled again. "Well, Legolas, now that all the pleasantries are over, I need to ask you something," King Thranduil said. Legolas broke his gaze away from Neithawen's eyes. "What's that, ada?" he asked, letting Neithawen's hand fall gently back to her side. "I need to know if you are coming to war with me. It is your decision alone, and I don't wish to rush you, but we are in a great hurry. I need to know your decision now," Thranduil said, a small frown playing around the corner of his eyes. "Yes, ada, I wish to go with you to war," Legolas said. His face, Neithawen thought, showed resignation, and a willingness to please. "You are sure? Very well, then, I ask that you lead the second company. My hands will be full with the first; I will need you," Thranduil said. "Thank you, ada, I am honored." Legolas bowed and turned to leave. He halted for a second, his back to Neithawen, Thranduil, and Maeglin, and Neithawen could see his chest rise as though he was going to say something, but in a flash of dark green and blonde, he was out the door. |
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