The Forgotten Princess

Betrayal

It had been a week since Legolas had kissed her.

And she had kissed him back.

But that was the problem. She couldn't. It was only a distraction.

Lessien suffered from numbered physical wounds. The ringing in her ears never subsided. Gandalf took assessed her and apparently Lessien was deaf in one ear after the explosion. Her wrist was also broken from falling on it but it was healing faster than any other part of her. Walking still took effort because of her knee that she had irritated.

The army of the Rohirrim moved on from Helm's Deep, placing camp in the desert. Who knew where they were off to.

Lessien had taken it upon herself to confront Cerinyc's family, and it broke her heart to hear their screams of despair.

Despite herself, Lessien's thoughts strayed back to Arwen, who knew why. She tried to contact her via Dreamworld but she seemed to be blocking Lessien out, and her daughter didn't see it as right to forcefully pull her in.

If Arwen didn't want to see her, so be it, she supposed. 

Gandalf always told Lessien whenever he saw her that he needed to talk to her about something but never did.

So she was thinking about many things. Often, she would throw daggers for hours on end, strengthening her left hand's skill while her right hand was out of commission.

Lessien practiced with Eowyn, clashing swords and teaching her how to throw daggers. Although she could tell the young girl envied her for her privilege to fight in the Battle of Helm's Deep. Lessien thought that was immature.

So now she stood, practicing her knife throwing alone this time.

Her silver dagger had a genuine bronze handle with thorny vines intricately carved into it. A deep red jewel was encrusted in the very tip of the handle and Lessien was quite fond of her new weapon.

The dagger had been a gift from Eowyn, a peace offering.

Now, she held the dagger between two of her index fingers, one finger at the handle and the other at the point. Accidentally, she applied too much pressure and the tip pierced her finger.

A droplet of blood bloomed on her sun kissed skin. Instinctively, she brought her finger to her mouth, sucking blood off of it.

"Quite a fine weapon Lady Eowyn has rewarded you with, Lessien?" Gandalf said from behind her.

"Gandalf!" Lessien stuttered, surprised, and dropped her precious trinket.

It clattered on the floor. She picked it up and turned to observe Gandalf.

He looked very distraught and his rather bushy eyebrow raised.

"I'm just practicing some knife throwing, as I can't practice much else," Lessien explained herself for no reason at all. She held up her wrist, as if giving evidence.

A grin was on her face, miraculously.

"Yes, yes," Gandalf muttered in a way that reminded Lessien of when he was Gandalf the Grey, and not Gandalf the White. "My dear Eve, we have things to discuss," he added.

The early noon sun began to slowly burn orange.

"Come, we have many a subject to discuss." He held out his arm to her.

Lessien took his offer after putting the dagger in its sheath at her hip. "Are you finally going to speak to me about that subject you have been meaning to tell me about?"

Gandalf looked grave, very grave, and worried. The most he had ever been around her.

"What are you not telling me?" she continued.

"There is not much to tell. There are only things I can show you. Come, walk with me. We are to ride out, into the Fangorn. There my mind is clearer and-" he dropped off. He seemed to be returning to his old ways of being the mysterious, jolly old wizard he had been.

Maybe not jolly.

Lessien wasn't sure which one bothered her more.

"And what, Gandalf?" Lessien pushed, even though she knew it was a waste of breath. Gandalf never told the whole story and when he did it was often confusing.

"Hush, do not speak until we arrive. The things I mean show and tell you are not meant for the ears here," Gandalf demanded and Lessien shut her mouth like a child.

He led her on.

Riding made Lessien feel faint with her knee in the condition it was, so Gandalf had her ride with him on Shadowfax. He had tried to talk to her about how she was feeling and how she was recovering but Lessien was too wrapped up in her own thoughts.

What could be so important that it would bring Gandalf and I to the Fangorn? What is Gandalf hiding from me?

The next thing Lessien knew, past the blurring ground and pointless words, they had arrived into the Fangorn.

Gandalf had dismounted and helped her down tentatively. "Lessien, what I am about to tell you, what I am about to show you, it may scare you. It may terrify you more than you may have ever experienced and if things go wrong, you may never recover from the fear. But you have to promise that no matter what you see, you cannot let go of me."

Gandalf sat down on a fallen tree trunk, his hands on his knees, as if the words he spoke were what tired him.

"Gandalf, you're talking strangely again. What's wrong?" She sat down beside Gandalf, taking his old, withered hand.

"Tanadín man imnë palû," Gandalf suddenly chanted, the words were normal elvish but the way he sung them seemed strange when it was accompanied by the muttering and twitching of his eyebrows.

Lessien felt herself weakening, black closing in on the sides of her vision, and she felt as if she had been poisoned.

"Gandalf!" Lessien choked, for her throat was constricting too. He must be putting an enchantment over her. She clawed for his white cloak.

"W-" she tried to say.

Why?

But her body stopped serving her. She felt complete and utter betrayal before she blacked out entirely.