Daughter of Starlight

Chapter Twenty Nine: Guilt and Reminiscence

I flinched as for the tenth time my feet almost slipped out from under me while I tried to carefully make my way through the gold. Kili had not come after me as of yet, so I persisted in my search for the White Gems of Lasgalen. I'd seen something glittering white in the distance earlier today when I'd talked with Thorin, setting off into the hills of gold and jewels from where the two of us had stood and argued, and as I got closer, I saw that I was right in thinking that sparkle had been the gems.

When I finally stood before the table that the gems were laid on, all I could do was stand and stare. I was unable to do anything else as I looked upon the diamonds that had thrown my life into such chaos all these years. The box that I had originally presented them in seemed to have been long discarded, and the gems were left to lay in a pile alongside a small heap of gold coins and other assorted gemstones. It angered me that Thrór had treated the diamonds with such little care, leaving them to gather dust on a table. The Nauglamir, the most coveted piece of the set of jewelry crafted from the Starlight Gems, and its sister bracelets sat atop the small mound of diamonds. It all seemed to be one unassuming pile of gems, it's beauty unlike any other in Middle-earth, but I could no longer appreciate it. These jewels were the reason I had been cast out of my home and estranged by my father, the reason I had put myself through this grueling journey that was now ending in betrayal and pain.

I extended my hand and gently picked up the Nauglamir, the crowning masterpiece of the elvish jewelry. This necklace had such an extensive history that was still incomplete to me, but I knew one thing about it. Supposedly this necklace and the bracelets that still sat atop the pile of diamonds belonged to the woman the kingdom of the Woodland Realm had cherished above all else: my mother.

Yes. Thranduil's wife, my mother, whose name I didn't even know, had worn the necklace I held in my hand. The bracelets had circled each of her wrists and the diamonds had once cast their bright flow upon her face. This set of jewels had once been hers, given to her by my father. When I was younger I used to look upon these gems and try to envision her wearing them, which was a difficult task in itself because I didn't know what she looked like. I instead settled for imagining what I would look like when I was older and would eventually wear them. I would later come to learn that I was forbidden from touching the gems. They were all that my father had left of my mother, and they would stay in the vaults until the day he died. Of course, I had always found ways around his strict rules, particularly the day that I had snuck into the treasury and snatched the box from its pedestal, making my way to Erebor as quickly as I could.

While I ran my fingers over the diamond-encrusted necklace, I reminisced over the first time I had been to Erebor, the time I had brought these gems as an offering of peace to Thrór. I had been disgusted by the wide and hairy miniature men at first, feeling absolutely humiliated by what I was doing. When I had been lead to the throne room and directed to kneel before the King Under the Mountain, I had done so reluctantly, under the satisfied gaze of the maddened ruler. When I raised my head, I caught the brown-eyed gaze of a young dwarf sitting at Thrór's side. I had assumed this to be Thorin, his grandson. Back then he had not had the streaks of gray in his brown hair, no lines of stress on his face, and no look of veiled hatred in his eyes. He merely looked upon me with curiosity as many of his brethren had done since I entered their kingdom, just as mystified by the Woodland she-elf who had come out of the shadows of her forest. That's all I had been to him back then. A curiosity. And all he had appeared to be to me was a spoiled dwarfish brat raised by the greedy man who had demanded I hand over my only reminder that my mother had ever been real.

I put the necklace back down on the table, feeling an ache in my heart that had not gone away since the day my father had disowned me. If only he had let me explain myself. If only he had seen reason and allowed me to help him understand why I had done it. War was something I couldn't bear to have happen. It had changed my father for the worst once before, and it would have changed him again if I had allowed him to be stubborn and keep those gems all to himself. He had only been thinking of his wife. I had been thinking of my kingdom. His mind had been clouded by grief, and it still was. Mine hadn't, so I had been able to do what had to he done.

That was what I told myself as I opened the leather satchel I had snagged from one of the company member's rooms and began to take handfuls of the diamonds and put them in the bag. I had to do this. I had to steal the gems back. If I didn't, I would never get home.

After I had made sure every single one of the tiny diamonds was in the satchel, I took the bracelets and the necklace and gently placed them inside, as well. I turned away from the table and put the satchel strap over my shoulder, securing it to my side as I headed for the exit of the treasure hall.

While I made my way back to the corridor with the multiple bedchambers the company was staying in, I found myself thinking about someone I hadn't thought of in a long time: Gandalf. I had been surprised to see that he wasn't here like he had promised he would be when I had come to Erebor after Smaug's attack on Lake-town. Maybe if he had been here, he would have been able to offset Thorin's sickness. While no one else had thought to expect it, I was sure Gandalf had been fully prepared to encounter the recurring dragon sickness of the line of Durin. Although I knew it was foolish, I found myself thinking that there might have been some way for him to prevent everything that had happened, that if he had upheld his promise, I would have already had the gems and been long gone. It wouldn't have been the first time he helped someone out of their dire situation.

I made it to my bedchamber and closed the door behind me, resting my forehead on the cold stone wall while I recalled how truly indebted I was to Gandalf the Gray. It was he who had brought me out of my despair while I was attempting to navigate the world outside of the Woodland Realm. I had had nowhere to sleep, no food to eat, and no one to call a friend. While I had been wandering down a road towards a town of men, hoping to find a place to sleep, he had stopped his cart next to me and began talking to me, starting the conversation that would lead me to Rivendell. Upon entering Rivendell and meeting Elrond, the lord of the elven city, he had granted me a place in his home. It was there that, for a long time, I had taken refuge among the elves that treated me more like a part of their family than my own in the Woodland Realm had. Elrond had treated me with kindness unlike any other that had been extended to me, and eventually he began to treat me as an equal to Arwen, who had begun to see me as a sister before I had left with the company.

I walked over to my bed and sat down, looking at the leather satchel I held in my hands. I felt the weight of the jewels inside like the guilt weighing down my heart. I had just stolen these gems for the second time in my life. It seemed all I was doing was stealing anymore, and I had become nothing more than a thief in the night. Ever since the first theft I had been on the run. There was no way the second would end any different. I was leaving in the morning, running from the people that accepted me, also for the second time in my life. Gandalf had found a new home for me, the home Elrond had opened for me without a second thought, and I had run away from it, as well. All in the hopes of going back to the home I had been cast out from, a home that didn't even exist anymore.

I put the satchel aside and rested my elbows on my knees, my hands on my forehead as I sat and thought about what Kili had said. There was no need to pursue this anymore. I was only hurting myself more by doing this. But what other choice did I have? I couldn't go home, and I couldn't stay here. There was no place for me to go but back to Rivendell, but I didn't belong there.

I sighed and sat up, running my fingers through my hair and looking at the floor despairingly. Everything was a mess. This whole quest had begun to fall apart the moment Gandalf left us, getting progressively worse through Mirkwood, Lake-town, and now it seemed like everything had been for nothing. The dwarves had reclaimed their homeland, but it wasn't home anymore. I had reclaimed my treasure, but there was nothing I could do with them. 

"Where are you, Gandalf?" I whispered, wishing more than ever that he was with us. "We need you."