To Live Again: Waiting Between Worlds {Lord of the Rings Fanfiction}

12. Queen

"Cal-Cala-non," I stutter and place one of my trembling hands on his shoulder. "P-put me down, I can walk."

"No Clara, you cannot," He whispers urgently, but I shake my head and wriggle determinedly in his arms so he has to lower me to my feet.

"I have some unfinished business," I groan as I grip my head, and use my other arm to steady myself against the nearest wall. "Send for the guards, I want all traces of Galour's servants and family rounded up and taken to the prisons. This is my home, and I will not appear like some weakling before blatant robbers!"

"Please, mellon," Calanon begs quietly and reaches for me, but I go rigid and straight when he touches me; "Clara you have expended the remnants of your feä to save Thranduil, you cannot keep exerting yourself. I do not know how to make this any plainer...you are fading."

My hand curls into a fist against the cold stone of the safe walls of my home. The perfectly smooth and polished stone, carved to appear like the swirling and ancient branches of wise old trees. They look real, they look alive, but it is just lifeless stone - dead - a perfect façade.

Yes I know what Calanon says is the truth, my spirit has been slowly crumbling away since the night I departed it to Thranduil. It only seems to burn on because I force it to, because if I didn't my children would suffer at the hands of devils like Galour. But now, in the aftermath of this wholly unnecessary drama, I feel my strength ebb away from me and there is nothing I can do about it. I knew the risks when I attempted to draw back my mate from the point of death, and I suppose if Thranduil had of been closer, or if his feä had of returned to its full strength he could have sustained me, but it didn't play out like that.

I know what Calanon was hoping for; I know he was hoping that given enough peace and rest I would sustain myself for my children's sake. He was hoping that word of Thranduil's return would have reached us and I could have held out long enough for my feä to be reunited with his - the only way to heal it, to make me a whole thing again. But Galour's stunt has drained me further, and I know it has taken its toll but I am not dead yet! The last embers of my own light glow under the surface, and I've never been one to let go without a fight. Certainly I shan't be allowing that weasel Galour to have the satisfaction of tipping me over the edge.

I can keep going, I can push through this, and I've been through much worse than this! If Oropher could endure decades of separation from Lassiel, I can hold out a few more months.

"Calanon!" I wheeze angrily as I twist to face him; "Just get me my guards; you can worry over the state of my feä later."

My chief healer, and chosen advisor blinks thoughtfully at me for a moment, as if trying to figure out if I am in denial or not. Mercifully he doesn't attempt to argue with me, but his lips press into a thin line and his eyes betray a sense of great worry, and I know it is aimed at me. I know if he could, he would keep me under his watchful care in the Healing Halls, but that would look bad to the people. They need to know their Queen is perfectly well, and anticipating the return of their new King without doubt or fear. That is my role, and I intend to fulfil it without complaint or objection.

"Yes my lady," Calanon bows deeply and without another word, he turns and speeds quickly to the main entrance, calling loudly for the guards.

Squaring my shoulders, I breathe in deeply and attempt to hold myself tall and strong. I proudly sweep open the doors to our grand living space shared by my family and I, and gaze coolly over the expanse of room, maintaining an air of aloofness when I spy the unwelcomed guests.

There is much feminine shrieking and worried whispers, as I glide into the room and straight up to the mass of ladies who are all nestled around the well stoked fireplace. I count at least six fine ladies, all lounged about on the floors or on the settees, one is draped across Oropher's armchair and I immediately glare scornfully at her.