Your Hands Are Cold

An Expected Death

“Maeneth,” my grandfather’s croaky voice called from his bedroom. I quickly washed my hands for I was busy preparing our meals for noon, and on the kitchen table were various types of fruits, vegetables, spices, and kitchen utensils waiting to be made into glorious plates of food. 

“Yes, grandfather?” I asked, after pacing quietly to his bedroom. His face was still as pale as ever, and he spoke in intervals of coughing fits. 

“Will you,” he struggled to continue speaking to me. “get me my medicine? Quickly, please.. my throat is burning,” 

I poured a small wooden cup of traditional Elven medicine made of special herbs, along with a touch of magic to cure the illness faster. However after several months, my grandfather’s illness continues to grow, and so I remained cautious, and obeyed whatever order he gave me. I placed the cup closer to his lips, and gently made him swallow the medicine, and then another cup of water to follow. 

“Rest, grandfather,” I said softly. “A lack of sleep does not help you cure your sickness. I must go now,” 

Those were the last thirty minutes of my final memory with my grandfather. My sole relative has now died after years, and now I am completely, utterly alone. The numerous amounts of Elven medicine placed in various emerald vessels still stood on the wooden drawer, and its heavy scents still hung under my nostrils. 

According to Elven law and tradition, the deaths of blood relatives were supposed to buried immediately, and in a place of peace and nature. I had only informed one official member who was in charge of taking care of the habitants of Mirkwood and those who kneel to King Thranduil. The reason behind this was because I didn’t want anyone to stop me when I visit the markets to offer me their condolences, for it would only make me think of him again. 

Images of solitary life and loneliness began to pollute my thoughts once again. What was I supposed to do now? Continue working as a seamstress until I die? Perhaps forming relationships would help, but I thought that I didn’t need to bother making friendships with my neighbours, for I had my grandfather, and he was the only friend I needed. After several hours clothing my father in white gossamer silks and purchasing a large wooden coffin, I set off deep into the edge of the forest of Mirkwood where there was a burial place for elves.  

Conjuring a spell, I placed my grandfather’s coffin beneath the soil, but not completely that you were still able to see the wooden coffin. On his coffin I used a spell to make bloodroots and light pink roses grow, along with verdant weeds. As elves we consider ourselves close to nature, thus by the time of our deaths we still want to remain the same way. 

“May the forest protect you forever,” I whispered. “Gi melin.” 

Before I knew it the sun had set on the horizon, and the sky grew darker. I quickly exited the burial place, for it was unusual for a common elf to be around in such places after the dark. I tried to run a little bit, but my dress stopped me from doing so, thus I had to carefully pace quicker by the minute whilst trying not to make a sound. 

I believed today my luck had run out, for droplets of rainwater began to fall over my head and I forgot to wear my cape. I sighed as the hem of my dress was covered in brown mud, and I would go home shivering because my body couldn’t tolerate the cold of the night mixed with the rain. The boots that I had worn weren’t also able to hold off the water, so as I trudged through the puddles and the grass of the forest floor soaked in the waters of the rain, my feet were too. 

“Daro!” I heard a voice say behind me, and I turned around to find an elf on a white horse. I was startled when I caught the sight of the bow and arrows, and I soon realised that I stood face to face with the prince of the Woodland Realm. 

“Prince Legolas,” I spoke, as he dismounted himself from his horse. “I’m very, very sorry, I was visiting the burial place and I did not know that it had turned dark..”

“Explain yourself,” he spoke in a stern voice, which reminded me of his father’s, King Thranduil’s. 

I gulped and spoke as bravely as I could, trying not to stutter. “My grandfather just passed away and I just recently finished burying him, I’m very sorry.. I should have not taken so much time, forgive me,” 

I relied on my luck that my life will not turn into hell once I finish talking to him, and that hopefully I’m able to return to the warmth of my bed tonight. Legolas looked at me and I noticed he began to observe me. We remain silent, and I did not say another word as we stood there in the edge of the forest, as the rain dropped on our bodies. 

“I offer you my sincere condolences for your grandfather’s death,” said he. “I thought you were a trespasser, forgive me. What is your name?”  

“Maeneth,” I replied quietly, avoiding his gaze. 

“And what is your profession? Have you told anyone of your grandfather’s death to an official member yet?”

“I’m a seamstress and a tailor, my lord, and yes, I have told an official member just this morning. Forgive me but I should not waste your time, and I must return to my home immediately,” I said. I could see Legolas was smiling because of my weak attempt to escape (at least what I thought to be) was an awkward situation. 

“Wait,” he stops me. “Where do you live, Maeneth?" 

“I live in my father’s old home just beside the market. It’s very small, but it gives me an easier access to the market where I work,” I replied.

“Very well,” Legolas replied. “I shouldn’t let your parents wait too long for you, I assume they shall be distressed if you do not return soon.” As soon as he said this, Legolas caught me biting my lip, and then shifting my gaze to stare at the ground.

“Both my parents are already dead, my lord,” I said, trying to hold my back the tears. I could see the young Elven prince had taken notice of my dislike to his response, for the smile on his lips were now gone.

“Forgive me, I can see that your parents is a sensitive topic of discussion. You may return to your house, Maeneth,”

“Thank you,” I said as quick as possible, and then trudged back to my home, where I slept that night thinking of my encounter with the Elven prince, which was a very rare occasion for a common elf, and the possible events that were to follow. It was a very dramatic day full of dramatic events, indeed.

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A/N:  Here are some of the English translations of the Elvish words mentioned in this chapter: Gi melin means I love you, and daro means stop.