𝕰𝖑𝖊𝖓𝖆

Chapter Seventeen: A Mother

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I'd never met my mother. Queen Aramine had died when I was only a baby. I'd only ever seen a single portrait of hers, and even then, it was often covered up. Like everything about her. I hardly received any stories of her character, how she and my father met, anything. Occasionally, I could coax a story out of Cyne, but my father was always so walled off when it came to her. So, using any small tidbits of information I could find about her, I'd built her character myself.

I'd never met her, but I felt as though I knew her.

Her image was what resonated in my mind while I sat, knees pulled up to my chest, in the pitch-dark room inside Orthanc, wondering if I'd ever see the light of day again. Wondering if I'd ever see Legolas again. I found comfort in envisioning my mother's face, her kind brown eyes and soft hair, and her beaming smile that lit up the room.

These thoughts had begun to appear to me as soon as I began to lose hope of escaping. I'd long since pondered over everything that had transpired that day, or yesterday-I could scarcely tell how much time had passed.

I thought of Prince Alintas and King Falhir. I thought about my kingdom. I thought about what Saruman had meant when we'd spoken. I thought of Legolas. I thought of the Fellowship. And when my mind had exhausted each of these thoughts, exhausted any sense of hope and curiosity that still lingered, it fled to the comfort of that fabricated persona of my mother.

The darkness swallowed the room like the blanket of night, though it was so intense that looking at it for too long made me feel as though my eyes were closed. It barred any chances I might have had of escape, ensuring I could not even see my own two hands, still bound in a wiry rope that bit at my wrists.

The room's cool wall supporting my back grounded me, was the only thing I was really sure of in that room, all else was bathed in uncertain blackness.

Having grown so accustomed to this darkness, it was a shock when the door was abruptly pulled open, allowing for some pale light to enter the room, momentarily blinding me. I squinted to see the white silhouette of Saruman, hand clasping his slender staff which he waved upwards, pulling open rectangular windows at the top of the room, nearly grazing the ceiling which I discovered to be several feet above my head. When he found the lighting in the room to his satisfaction, he closed the door behind him and I lifted my wary head to look into his eyes, my own eyes two deep burning coals.

He watched me for a long few moments, his eyes bearing a glint that reflected some sort of mixture of pity and amusement.

"Where is Legolas." I demanded through gritted teeth, my eyes unwavering.

"Of all the questions you might've asked, you waste your breath on the elf?" he chuckled, giving his head a slight shake.

"Where is Legolas." I repeated.

"In a room, much like this one. Only his condition isn't quite so... Shall we say apt, as yours."

"What, pray tell, do you mean in saying that?" I asked.

"I suppose you'll find out soon enough, you'll be in very much the same condition as he when you and I are through."

"What could you possibly gain in harming me? It's obvious that obtaining information is no obstacle to you, and I've nothing else to offer."

"One can never obtain enough information, I'm afraid, Elena Galrevia."

"That is not my name," I spat.