Alfýkin: The Last of the Elves

Truths and Lies

AN: Are you sitting down? Seriously. Sit down. I didn't warn two people and they almost fell over. I don't want injuries. Sit down. Sitting? Okay. Good. Proceed.

Myran stood before her; a picture of innocence and serenity. Nara studied him with unrelenting intensity. His face certainly looked elf-like, but Nara had seen enough fine featured men to not believe an elf stood before her, at least until it was proven.

Myran still wore his headband over his ears, it was stained with blood. More trouble than expected had come from Rohan. The skirmishes had been quick and nonlethal, but devastating nonetheless. He looked worn, but he never wavered or let his appearance suffer. Nara admired him for that. She did not want to do what needed to be done.

"There are two ways this can go," Nara said coldly, hiding any emotion she felt. "You will either tell me the truth now and I will remove you from the army and let you stay inside the citadel. Or you can lie about who you are and I imprison you for life for lying to your queen and country."

"You are not going to banish me?" Myran asked with a small smile.

"No. You are far too dangerous to be wandering the country. You know far too much for me to release."

The smile faded from Myran's lips.

"Very well, your highness." He pulled the band off his head to reveal pointed ears. "I will tell you who I am, though I do not think you will like it and it is no short tale." His demeanor suddenly changed, he became taller and prouder, shedding the guise of a mortal man for that of a race with as long a life as the earth remained. Before her eyes Myran suddenly became something else, someone else.

"My full name is Myrandir. I came to Gondor in search of my brother some years ago when I heard word of an elf with green eyes who was taller than any mortal man and immortal elf." Myrandir's own green eyes flashed brightly for a second. "When I came to Gondor, where the rumors had begun, I found I was too late. He had already gone."

"Who is your brother?" Nara asked, fearing she already knew the answer. The resemblence was uncanny. Myrandir smiled and Nara knew.

"Illeandir is my brother."

She didn't move. Didn't breath. Did not blink. She wondered if Illeandir knew he had a brother.

"Does he know?" she asked, giving way to curiosity. Myrandir shook his head.

"Our mother and father were forbidden from bondage by King Thranduil." A far away look entered Myrandir's eyes. They were of a paler green than Illeandir's, yet they possessed the same sorrow. "I know not why their love was forbidden. There were, for a time, rumors that my mother belonged to another. A political gain for her family."

"How do you know of this when Illeandir does not?" Nara had sat down, listening with rapt attention to this strange tale.

"He knows nothing not by choice of our parents, but by the dictation of many," Myrandir said. "We were born minutes apart. Within the few minutes before we were separated. My father gathered me into his arms and hid me away. Illeandir was not so lucky." Myrandir paused and slowly closed his eyes as if he could see that first night of his existence with absolute clarity. "Minutes were all we had as a family, whole, happy, and complete before they ripped my brother from the arms of my mother." Myrandir opened his eyes and pushed his hair from his face. "I do not know where they took him that night. I was taken to live in Mithlond with my parents after they were banished from Mirkwood." There was a long pause. "I grew up knowing I was an outcast, resenting my parents for their deed and hating a brother I have never seen. I understand them better now. " A faint grin was visible on his face.