Darkest Nights | Love of Royals: Book II

XXVI: The Heir

Fírion's POV

Fírion. Fírion. Fírion.

The name—my name—echoes through every chamber of my mind. Repeats with every step, every thud of my boots in the undergrowth as we sprint for our lives towards the Woodland Realm.

My hands grow sweaty around the smooth surface of the orb in my hands, the orb Fínegel used to communicate with Sauron.  Valar, I knew he was deranged, but—but I didn't see that coming.  I had no idea of the true scope of my long-lost father's madness.  And I did not expect, if I ever found out who my parents were, that I would be eternally ashamed.

Fínegel's son.  That will be what defines me now.  The Heir of the Dû-edhil. Fínegel's son.  Son of the one who swore to wreak his revenge upon every elf in the kingdom I have come to... come to love.

At least I understand about myself and Fíria now.  Two souls connected in a way that had not even occurred to me.  My sister; my twin; my equal in darkness and magic.  And both of us in love with a Woodland beauty.

I'm going to have to tell her.  Tell Tauriel who I am, and what my father plans to do.  I can't lie to her like Fíria lied to Legolas. Now there is no chance of her returning any feelings I have for her—and that's if both of us live through the upcoming war.

'Open the gate!' cries Legolas as the kingdom looms into sight, Erainiel still latched onto his body.

Bursts of night magic come hurtling past our heads—Fínegel must be on our tail. Fíria ducks, stumbling, her Dû-edhel friend the only thing keeping her from tumbling to the ground. Legolas calls out again, and the vast engraved gates swing open with a groan as the five of us spill into the safety of the kingdom. 

'Ílren!' 

I have a split second to set the strange orb down on the floor beside me, before Tauriel has thrown her arms around me and buried her head in my neck, sobbing quietly. I savour her embrace, squeezing tighter than I did that night beneath the fire moon, and run my hand up and down her back. Valar, I'd missed her—and I was only away for a little while.

There is an echoing clang as the gates close behind us, and the distant cursing of the Dû-edhil trapped outside can still be heard over the babbling of the waterfalls. Nothing, however, seems as loud as the words I brace myself to utter to Tauriel.

'Apparently, that's not my name. It never was,' I say softly.

'What?' Tauriel pulls back, her face perplexed, and her hand still gently grasping my arm.

Fortunately, Fíria—my sister—steps in. 'We'll explain everything in a moment. By the way, this is my friend Lyrenna.' She indicates the pretty elleth beside her with the signature lush dark hair of the Dû-edhil, who smiles shyly.

Beside me, Legolas puts Erainiel down before touching his hand to his heart in greeting. 'It is wonderful to meet you. I am Prince Legolas, as you may already know. And this is Princess Erainiel, my half-sister.'

'Mae govannen!' A glare from Legolas. 'Hello! Nice to meet you!' the young Princess corrects herself.

'Nice to meet you too, your Highness,' Lyrenna says sweetly to Erainiel, who despite the terrible fright she just had, beams and giggles.

Tauriel touches her hand to her heart, and I do the same. 'My name is Tauriel,' she says.

'My name is... Fírion.'

Lyrenna gives a small chuckle. 'You don't seem too sure about that.'

'Well, I did only just find out,' I admit, running a hand through my hair. I cannot look at Tauriel, whose presence I can still feel close to me, her fingers threatening to brush mine.