Chapter 7

Maybe the scene on the door should have tipped her off, but the last thing Kate was expecting when she stepped through was to find herself in a forest glade. Or a pretty damn good approximation of one, at least.

A few stone steps led down to bright green grass, where the stream from the hall had branched off and meandered through a cavernous room ringed with thick, silver trunked trees, reaching for a glass domed ceiling high, high above. Birdsong drifted in the air, light and life filling the room. Kate smiled, easily imagining wiling away the evening there, sprawled out on the grass with Aduil by her side, watching the stars come out. Until she caught sight of the lone figure at the far end of the room.

She recognized him instantly, even at such a distance, and her face fell as uneasiness settled back in.

On a throne of living wood, formed from the bent trunk and twisting, twining branches of a cherry tree, lounged Elanduil, King and Guardian of the Meadowood and all who dwelt within, looking every bit the regal, self-possessed ruler Kate knew him to be. He was the epitome of tall, dark and handsome, with shimmering midnight black hair the same shade as Aduil's, cascading over his shoulders in stark contrast to a gleaming silver crown shaped to look like woven twigs with ruby berries and emerald leaves. Silver and lazuline robes clung to his lithe form, setting off eyes of the deepest blue.

He cut quite the figure, the King of the Meadowood Realm. Until you saw the elf behind the beauty, and thanks to the Talerian Chronicles, Kate did. She knew exactly who this elf was.

He was the King who imprisoned a broken and starving Jex, who was only looking for sanctuary, simply because he was a Tolar. He was the King who banished the captain of his guard for leaving the Meadowood without permission to chase down a gaggle of goblins who had taken some humans captive. He was the King who had a whole chapter in the Talerian Chronicles dedicated to his ill-tempered nature, where he was said to be cold and strict, guarded, almost xenophobic, with little concern for anything beyond his borders. He cared for his people, it was said, but only his people, and did not offer his hospitality lightly.

Of course, that chapter was told from Jex's perspective, so it could be biased—though, if the icy stare he leveled at Kate as they approached was anything to go by, it wasn't.

Yeah, this is fine, everything's cool here, she reassured herself, I'm not gonna get tossed in a dungeon or beheaded or anything, it's all good.

Though, a little warning would have been nice. She pitched a glare at Aduil's back, stumbling as she did.

"Dag nabbit!" she cursed and, catching herself before she could fall—for once—looked up in time to see the King raise one imperious eyebrow.

Wonderful. Great first impression.

Aduil stopped as they neared the King, flowing down onto one knee in a graceful bow.

"Anem uth, cui pilse, illen," he said, as Kate looked behind her to find the guards had also taken a knee.

Before she could decide if she was supposed to bow too, Aduil rose, whispering, "Stay."

"Arf," she quietly barked, earning a twitch of a smile before he moved to stand kitty-corner to the throne, leaving her to face the King alone.

Yay.

She tugged at the hem of her shirt as the King regarded her with the same curiosity one might have for a particularly interesting bug that happened to cross their path, wondering if she was supposed to do something. Say something? How do you greet a King?

"H-hello, uh…oh! Maedh bollo…um, your majesty, King Elanduil, sir," she said, curtsying with all the elegance of a baby deer taking its first steps.

While the King gave no reaction, she thought she caught a hint of puzzled amusement from Aduil, and narrowed her eyes at him, trying to ignore the flush heating her face. Maybe they didn't curtsy here, but how the hell was she supposed to know that? If there was something she was supposed to do instead, he could have told her, or at least mimed it or something. This was his fault as much as hers.

With a steadying breath, she returned her attention to the King.

"You...don't happen to speak English, do you?" she asked, because hey, anything was possible. Her very presence in this place proved that.

The King only cocked his head to the side in a movement strangely reminiscent of Aduil.

Maybe it was just something common to all elves, but as she glanced back and forth between the two, she noticed a resemblance so striking, she wasn't sure how she'd missed it before. It was right there, clear as day, in the hair, the strong jawline, the eyes. Especially the eyes. Not the color, of course, but something else, some kind of spark she couldn't quite define. But to look at them, they could be brothers.

Wait, were they brothers?

What did that make Aduil? A lord or something?

The King stood and stepped toward Kate, drawing her out of her thoughts and back to the super comfortable present. He slowly circled around her, as if inspecting an offering—and she didn't like that thought at all—and stopped directly behind her. It took everything she had not to turn and face him, but she managed it. Until there was a tug on her hair, a light touch brushing her back.

She spun. "Hey! I don't care if you are the King, no touchy!"

She froze as a pair of blades abruptly crossed beneath her chin, held by the guards suddenly flanking her and pinning her between them.

Damn, elves were fast, she hadn't even seen them move.

"A-Adu—" she cut off at the light scrape of a razor-sharp blade brushing against her skin at the motion. Okay then, no talking. Even breathing seemed like a bad idea. But hey, who needs air, right?

Jaw clenched tight, Kate held herself as still as possible, staring down at the shiny steel poised to slice her open. Silence reigned for seconds that seemed to stretch into hours, with only the birds daring to make a sound as they fluttered about. Of course, they were safe up in the trees. Lucky buggers.

"Edain," Aduil said, and she jumped at the sound, yelping at the cold sting as one of the blades nicked her chin.

The King's gaze slid briefly past Kate before he raised his chin and flicked his wrist, and the blades dropped from her neck.

"Annonte," she breathed, sagging in relief. She was speaking to Aduil, not the King, but he didn't need to know that.

She tried to reach up to check the cut on her chin, but couldn't lift her arm very far, still caught in the guards' stony grip. She glanced down in annoyance, then back at the King.

"Is this really necessary? What do you think I'm going to do to you?"

The King stepped forward, narrowing his eyes as he leaned way too far into her personal space, close enough she could feel his breath on her cheeks. Oddly enough, it smelled like flowers. What had he been eating?

"Mal il te?" he whispered, but the only word she understood was 'you' and that didn't give her much to go on, so she didn't even try to answer. "Nimm il te dwen?"

Dwen… was that 'again'? No, wait, that was dwaen. Dwen was… Dag nabbit, what was it?

"Peledh!" he shouted.

She flinched at the sudden noise and before she could blink, Aduil was at her side. Well, the guard's side, but close enough.

"Edain, hir uvdau—" he managed before the King straightened, cutting him off with a sharp motion, eyes never leaving Kate.

Silence fell once more as the tension grew to suffocating levels, and Kate just wanted out. She'd had enough of this bullshit. She had little patience for arrogant jerks like Elanduil at the best of times and this was far from that. Normally, she'd just walk away—nothing pisses off self-important douche bags more than being ignored—but that, of course wasn't an option.

So, what were her options?

If he was a customer at the gas station, she'd know what to do—actually, that wasn't a bad idea. And she might be able to have a little fun with it, too. Might be stupid, but how often do you get the chance to mouth off to a King?

Kate took a slow, deliberate breath and plastered on a sugar-sweet, dealing with irate customers smile.

"Ooookay," she started, "I think we got off on the wrong foot here. How about some introductions? I already know who you are: King Elanduil, supreme asshole of the realm, and I can say that because you don't understand me, and who'd have thought that would ever be a good thing, but hey, use it if you got it, am I right?

"So, your royal shithead-ness," she continued in her best customer service voice, as she tried to raise a hand to her chest like she and Aduil had when they'd exchanged names, but only got it as far as her stomach. She huffed at that, but brightened her smile a few watts before finishing, "I'm Kate. So very not nice to meet you."

Elanduil raised his eyebrow again—she was getting real tired of that look—and studied her for a long moment before turning his attention to Aduil.

"Daute uvpeledh enadh?" he asked, cold and calm. "Daurte uvnamo min nadh tif calem?"

Aduil bowed his head. "In dau erian, edain. Nadh tif isair rian."

"Erian. Fireles."

Aduil's eyes shuttered closed, his shoulders falling just the slightest bit. Kate glared at the King. She'd have a few words for the bastard, if he could understand her. Well, if she could do so away from his sword-happy friends—she was pissed, not stupid.

Elanduil let out a soft breath before he added, "Te raim letanil tel erialed. Baeril nadh dalthe enach, In raim istan. Maneth puil uvar emenn."

He raked his gaze over Kate once more before he waved a dismissive hand, and the guards ushered her away.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Aduil held himself still, denying the impulse to follow as the guards all but carried Kate away. Beletir and Celeden were good elves, he knew, they would not harm her. They had only been doing their duty when they had bared their blades to her, wary of a threat to the King. A duty Aduil should have shared. Curious his first thought had been to defend Kate rather than his father. Then again, the King, though taken aback by the display, had not been fearful; Kate had.

"Would you care to explain yourself?"

He smiled for her when she cast a worried glance over her shoulder just before the doors closed behind her, hoping to convey that all was well and would continue to be so, and he would meet up with her again once his affairs here were concluded. It was much to ask of a simple smile, yet perhaps not for Kate. For though he had known her but days, she seemed to have an uncanny talent for reading him. Perhaps it was a gift of her people, as ageless longevity was gifted to his. Or perhaps it was mere necessity, for when words fail, what else is there?

"Aduil."

He pulled his gaze from the door to find his father observing him, less than pleased.

"Forgive me, father. My mind was elsewhere."

"Hmm." He inclined his head. "And would you care to explain yourself?"

He briefly considered playing the fool, but quickly dismissed the idea, for it would only irritate his father further and gain him naught.

"Did you not see how frightened she was?" he asked instead.

"Do you not mean to say hostile?"

"No, it is more than that," he insisted. "Those words she used ere the guards intervened, I know not their meaning, but she spoke much the same to me when first we met, and she only did so again when you reached for her. I believe she is wary of touch. Perhaps it is the way of her kind, perhaps they take no comfort in contact." Yet even as he spoke the words, he wondered if something more sinister might be at play.

Though it was true Aduil had not often ventured far beyond the borders of the forest, he had heard the tales of the wider world, of how other races treated those they deemed inferior—of the slave markets. He had never wanted to believe it, for how could a people claim to be civilized while they forced such atrocities upon others, let alone one of their own kind?

Yet, Kate... the fear she had displayed at the mere prospect of being touched, and again after she had woken, when she seemed to believe he was attempting to harm her with a simple glass of water...

His gaze wandered back to the door.

Was that it then? Had Kate been a slave before she had found her way into the forest? The discomfiting thought set Aduil's hand itching for the hilt of his blade.

"So, simple kindness once again? Is that all it was?"

"Kindness?" Aduil had no need to play at ignorance this time as his father's voice drew him out of his thoughts once more. It took him a moment to recall their conversation. "Oh. Yes, of course. What else would it be?" He tilted his head as he awaited his father's reply, genuinely curious as to what it could be.

"Hmm. Perhaps nothing." Elanduil retreated to his throne before continuing, "Or perhaps you are becoming enamored of this creature."

"Enamored? Of Kate?" Aduil asked, incredulous. Yes, it was true he was coming to enjoy his time spent with her, yet how could he not? She was so strange, a living mystery and with every moment in her company, he drew closer to solving it. But enamored? The very idea was laughable. Yet the King was not laughing. "No, nothing could be further from the truth."

"So you say, yet your actions tell a different tale."

Aduil could not quite suppress an eyeroll. "May I once again put it forward that Kate was frightened, and you were in no danger."

"You also speak with a striking familiarity."

"Because I speak her name? I speak Celeden's name, am I enamored of him as well?"

"Are you?"

"No," Aduil ran a hand through his hair. This was becoming absurd. "Nor am I enamored of Kate. How could I be? You have seen her arms. She bears no Mark." He tapped his wrist. "Neither of them do."

The King tilted his head in consideration before giving a brief nod.

"Regardless, keep to your guard. The creature may appear small and weak, yet appearances are often deceiving. Do what you must to learn from it but keep your distance. We know not what it is, nor its purpose. I would not have you ensnared by any ruse."

Though only days ago Aduil had shared his father's suspicions, he found it more and more difficult of late to imagine Kate attempting to employ any sort of ruse. Still, for all that he wanted to, he could not deny the possibility remained.

"I understand, father. If there is some plot afoot, I will root it out, you need not fear for me."

His father's visage softened as he whispered, so low Aduil was not certain he was meant to hear, "I will always fear for you." He cleared his throat before adding, "I believe I may be of some aid in that endeavor. I have recalled where I have seen those runes."

"The ones from Kate's book? Where?"

"Another book, one 'gifted' me by Lord Altharion," he said with a sneer.

Aduil hid a smile. It was well known how the Lord of Cirbaninn enjoyed needling his father for his studied disinterest of the academic arts in which Altharion excelled.

He spared a moment to wonder how his father had retaliated. He could recall quite clearly the last time the King had been presented with such a backhanded gift and had returned the favor by gifting Lord Altharion's youngest son, then only an elfling, with a pet Alk. The creature had been entirely tame of course, a friendly ball of fangs and fluff, yet it had been of such a massive size as to be quite a challenge to manage, let alone house and feed.

"I have not yet had a chance to peruse it, but I am told it is a personal account of some sort and has been partially translated." The king rolled his eyes. "Still, it may speed your task. Seek it in the library."

"Thank you, father. I will see to it at once," Aduil sketched a shallow bow, unable to suppress a grin as he took his leave.

A guidebook, and here in the palace, it was more than he had dared hope. Soon he would be able to speak with Kate, truly speak with her, more than the piecemeal exchanges they had managed to cobble together thus far. He could learn about her at last.

Of her, he silently amended, I will learn of her.

He did not need to know her thoughts and feelings, he did not need to know why she had wept in the bower, nor why she shied away from touch. He needed only discover what she was and her intentions in the Meadowood.

And if he greeted her in her own tongue when next they met, and she graced him with that same smile of wonder and delight she had shown for the bower and the Waters of Passing, well, what harm was there in that? It was only for kindness sake, after all.

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Translations

"Anem uth, cui pilse, illen," - "The creature, as requested, sire,"

Maedh bollo… - "Good Morning…

"Edain," - "Father,"

"Annonte," - "Thank you,"

"Mal il te?" - "What are you?"

"Nimm il te dwen?" - "Why are you here?"

"Peledh!" - "Speak!"

"Edain, hir uvdau—" - "Father, she does not—"

"Daute uvpeledh enadh?" - "Do you not speak with it?"

"Daurte uvnamo min nadh tif calem?" - "Did you not tell me it is clever?"

"In dau erian, edain. Nadh tif isair rian." - "I do try, father. It is a slow path."

"Erian. Fireles." - "Try. Harder."

"Te raim letanil tel erialed. Baeril nadh dalthe enach, In raim istan. Maneth puil uvar emenn." - "You must redouble your efforts. Should it conceal dangers, I must know. Time may not with us."