New Dawn

Chapter 31

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L U M O R N E L

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While I stared in astonishment, Legolas nearly choked.

"What?!" Legolas appeared to have swallowed an apple, whole and bitter. "She's here?"

"You know of her?" Aragorn asked inquisitively. I nodded halfheartedly, not really hearing Aragorn's words past the burning question that consumed my thoughts:

Why is she here?

I glanced at Legolas, who strode to his chest and brought out a set of clothing. I didn't know what Kaylessa's intentions were, but if she were to tell her brother who she is to him, that his mother is very much alive... was Legolas strong enough right now to accept that?

Well, I couldn't find out what she intended to do still dressed like this. I took a step towards the door, then stopped and glanced at Legolas. His blue eyes were already on me.

"I'm going to change before we meet her. I'll be quick, I promise. And Aragorn will be right outside my door." I glanced towards the man for confirmation and he nodded.

Legolas thought for a moment, obviously warring between letting me go and demanding I stay with him. Finally, slowly, he nodded.

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Not even ten minutes later, the three of us, and my two guards, pushed through the doors to the meeting hall. The same place where Command had determined my fate. The same place I had visited upon returning, telling of all that had transpired between here and Erynbâr.

Their reactions, to hearing that I was now me, had varied. Dervorin—the man who had stood upon our first meeting and, with vivid animosity, had demanded I be locked up—had gone silent. He had sat almost stone-like in his chair, except for the muscle that fettered in his jar and for the emotion that swam deeply in his eyes. He had kept glancing at me as if I would strike out and kill him... but confusion and wariness had been swimming in his gaze as well. I had questioned Legolas about him. Apparently, I had killed his son before the Black Gate; his only child and heir. I couldn't blame him for his hate.

Despite Legolas's words yesterday, I hated me too. I had killed so many people. So many lives wasted. So much blood on my hands.

The others, however, had looked upon me warily and, I had noticed, with curiosity. I was now consciously the woman—elleth—from nine years ago. I was the one who had fought for Middle-earth and then betrayed it.

I wondered what they thought. I wished they were considering the truth—that Sauron had placed his ring on me and that I would never willingly hurt so many innocents.

Now, pushing through those doors, I felt as if I was strolling into a den of wolves. Even with Aragorn, their leader, by my side. I had been told that many now questioned him, now that they knew he backed Gwaraith.

We walked into the meeting hall, and despite the fact that Kaylessa stood where I had a couple months ago, a couple vigilant guards flanking her sides, the attention of Command shifted to us. Well, mostly to me.

I did my best to ignore them. Instead, I studied Kaylessa. She was the same as ever, except that she had a wound healing on her temple and a bruise to match. Her hair, just a few shades lighter than her brother's, fell to her waist, littered with beautiful braids that helped pull the hair away from her face. Where there should have been a sword, there was nothing. I could only assume that her weapons had been taken from her. But I couldn't help but think that she still wasn't unarmed. She had to have at least another knife, and if she didn't, well, she had her quick witted tongue.