Twelve Days of Hrive 'Isia Ch. 03

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The elder of the girls shrank back in shock as she stared at her sister's retreating form. She moved to comfort her, but stopped when Madrician lifted her hand. "Don't. Please Gilraen. I have to think – to clear my head. He didn't want me then and how is he to want me now when he doesn't know me. To him – I am just his voice – not his daughter."

Madrician turned away, opened the door to the King's chamber and left Gilraen alone. The sole heir to the Lúinwë fortress moved slowly back to her father's side. She peered into his eyes, and wiped at the tears that had fallen there. Once more she was envious of her sister, and wished with all her heart she had been blessed with the gift her sister had been given. "I will speak with my betrothed. He will know what to do." She kissed her father's brow and left the room, her sole purpose was to confront her mother, but she knew she would need the strength of the one man that had somehow become a constant companion to her thoughts.

Once she learned from the guards where she would have the best chance of finding Turgon and gave them orders that no one but Turgon or herself be allowed into her father's rooms, Gilraen made her way to the stables. Her betrothed had planned a race with her father's men and several of his own, each riding their finest steeds. She hurried toward him, her body tense, and her mind going in a thousand and one directions.

Just as she reached Turgon's side, she noticed her mother fast on her heels. She saw the hate rolling off her; Gilraen's insides twisted with disgust as she turned to face the woman. Her back felt Turgon's steady gaze on the two of them.

"How dare you! Who do you think you are to deny your father the care he so desperately needs? Do you think that because you whore yourself out to him that you now are the leader of my people?" Eáránë voice was pitched so high that the horses stomped their feet and shook their heads. Her eyes drilled into Gilraen as she stepped closer to the Princess.

Turgon moved to stand between them, only stalled by Gilraen's hand. "I gave the order after learning of your treacherous ways," Gilraen turned to her betrothed, "Madrician, as you recall was with me when we made our visit."

"I don't know why you felt it necessary to force your sister to see the man that never was a father to her," Eáránë muttered, "and now – now you work your wiles on Lord Celebrindal, in hopes to what - kill your father?"

Gilraen stared back at her mother, disgust evident in her gaze. "Madrician has a gift, and she believes father has been poisoned, and has been since just after his accident."

Eáránë's face paled, but then her cheeks grew bright red, as she lifted her hand to strike Gilraen. Turgon's fingers were there to stop her. He gripped her wrist and twisted it back. He called for Círdan, who seemed to appear out of nowhere. Eáránë was pushed toward him. "Escort the Queen back to her chambers, place two guards at her doorstep and no one is to see her. I will listen to Gilraen's accusations against her mother. Please call my father, as well as Priest Huro to the library, they will find us there."

"And Madrician?" Gilraen asked.

"Yes, find the young princess. I have a feeling she has a tale that has waited 13 years to be told." Turgon sighed heavily, looked down at Gilraen's face and wondered at the pain she had to have been feeling. Turgon instructed several of the elven that had gathered for the impromptu race to continue on with their celebration of Hrive 'Isia while he saw to the matters of his betrothed's house. A few mummers were heard in regards to there finally being a male elf to lead the house of Lúinwë, and others grumbled that Princess Gilraen had once again overstepped her boundaries, but she was Lord Celebrindal's problem now.

The Princess and Turgon left together; his arm was wrapped possessively around her waist. She chewed on her lower lip, fearful that the damage done to her father could not be erased. Madrician's pain also gnawed on her. Her sister, a sweet fragile minded girl, had just had her world set off its axis, and now she would be forced to reveal her gift, another mark against her in the eyes of those that already found her lacking.

Behind the castle walls, and securely within the library Turgon released Gilraen. She spun around and began to speak, quickly relaying all that Madrician had told her. Turgon shook his head in disbelief. "I will consult Círdan in regards to what potion your mother was using, and it was right of you to order my guards – I am glad they took your words as they would have mine."

"Do you think Círdan can heal my father?"

"I do not know. He will examine him, and as difficult as it may be, your sister will have to be there, she will have to be his voice."

Gilraen nodded. "She will do this, but it will be with a heavy heart. She is devastated. For years I have shared with her stories of our father, stories that had allowed her to believe that had he been whole he would have loved her. But now – he's not had a chance to know who she is, and all he knows of her is that she's a bastard daughter from an affair his wife had."

"Any idea who your mother had taken as a lover? Perhaps someone she still favors?"

The Princess shook her head no. "I know she has lovers, many in fact, but I cannot think of any one that is favored by her. I tried hard to not interfere in her life, including who came and went from her chambers. Perhaps this too is something Madrician can pry from my father's mind and my mother's head."

"Princess, I do wonder – with your sister's gift, why did she not read your mother's mind and find out this on her own?"

"Madrician read mother's mind once – images of blood, death, and pain were all that were projected. Madrician was frightened, and worked hard from that day on, not to read mother's thoughts. I cannot fault her for protecting herself all these years. Had I been able, I would have protected myself too."

Turgon reached out and stroked Gilraen's hair. "No, I do not believe you would have. You are a strong woman and you would have done all you could to have protected what was important to you. Madrician is just a child and carries a gift that is more like a curse, now so more than ever."

A light tap on the door and a bellowed "enter" allowed Círdan, Madrician and the others, entrance into the library. The warrior looked uncomfortable, as he ushered the smaller figure inside. The young girl's face was blotchy, tears had obviously been shed, and her eyes looked red and swollen. She ran from Círdan and over to Gilraen. "I'm sorry," she cried, burying her face into her sister's chest. More sobs racked her delicate form. Gilraen held her, petted her hair and soothed her with kind words. When Madrician was able, she pulled away and sat down, her sister followed suit.

Turgon and Círdan also claimed seats, while the two older elves chose to stand. Once more Madrician shared with them all what she had learned. "Father's – I mean, the King's mind is cloudy, but still intact. It is as if he speaks in a fog. He recalled that they argued, mother and him, just a few moments before a guard came to tell him about you," she turned to her sister, "missing and most likely being stuck on the cliff. He had just shouted that mother was to gather what things she'd brought into the marriage and disappear. He did not care if she returned to her father, or if she took up residents with her," she bit her lip, "bastard lover."

Gilraen squeezed her sister's hand. "I'm sorry, Madrician. Had I known he could still think, I wouldn't have..."

"Yes, you would have – you would have asked me and I would have read his mind willingly. I still will. It will be hard, but yet now I know why disgust rolled through him when he realized who I was." The young girl wiped her eyes before more tears spilled free.

Turgon rose, paced the room several times before returning to the small cluster of elves that were slowly unraveling the past. "Círdan what herbs do you believe she's used all these years?"

Círdan frowned. "There are only a few in number that when combined properly would keep King Lúinwë confined in such a state. I'm sure if you place the threat of death on the plate, someone in that party will relinquish the information. Without knowing what was used I cannot safely reverse its effects."

Hope seemed to spring to Gilraen's eyes. "So you think you can ease his suffering and bring him back to us – whole?"

The warrior and healer lifted his hand. "I make no promises Princess. I can only try, and only then after I know what they used. It may be a poison I am not familiar with, something only your mother has knowledge of. If she began the process of making your father incapacitated shortly after his accident, then most likely she had the means to hinder him at her disposal throughout their marriage. Why she acted then, we understand, but why hold the knowledge in the first place. That is a mystery, we may never unravel."

A long drawn out sigh of frustration escaped Turgon's father's lips. "No matter what she has done in the past, she is still your mother and she must answer for her crimes. Are you capable of accepting her punishment? As my betrothed, and since your father is not able to speak for himself at this time, it will fall on me to discipline your mother as I see fit."

"The council will have no say in the matter?" Gilraen asked.

"They most likely will bend to my will. From what I have heard in regards to your mother and her people – your people – most have hungered for leadership that is not under her rule. They have shared stories of your father and the passionate man he was. They speak of his honor and his code of ethics. There are a few loyal to your mother, but once she has been dealt with, I see their loyalty dissolving in hopes to protect themselves."

"That is the way of things," Círdan interjected.

"We will need to give your mother a chance to redeem herself, to explain her actions and Madrician's will most likely need to prove her gift to the council," Huro commented, before turning to the young girl. "You will have to perform for them. I am sorry to ask that of you."

Madrician swallowed. Gilraen knew that her sister feared being labeled a freak among her peers, but she also knew her sister's heart was pure and she would do all that was asked of her. "Let us be done with this," Gilraen whispered, "not just for Father's sake, but for Madrician's as well," she pulled her sister close and pressed her lips to the top of her head, "I'm sorry you have to do this."

The young girl shook her head against her sister, closed her eyes and tried to clear her thoughts. "It is the right thing to do."

Gilraen looked over and caught Círdan's gaze, she noted the concern he had for her sister and was touched by it. Madrician would be safe in Círdan's keeping when she left to become his sister's companion. "Come, let us go." Turgon's voice interrupted Gilraen's thoughts.

"Círdan, please bring Queen Eáránë to King Lúinwë's chambers, as well as Isa and Dushanal. Also have one of the guards fetch Mohimed, my scribe," he said more toward the women than Círdan, "a recording of this will be made so that the council can hear what is said, without subjecting your Father to their meddling footsteps within his chamber walls."

It did not take long for those Turgon wanted to appear outside King Lúinwë's private quarters. The three who stood accused of tampering with the King's mind were all pale, even the Queen whom every saw as a strong and formidable opponent, looked as if the slightest breeze would topple her. Gilraen refused to look at her mother; Madrician's kept her eyes downcast, though no one could ignore her demeanor. The young girl was frightened by her mother, as well as the two who stood accused with her.

Turgon explained to his scribe, that he was to record every action and word that took place once inside King Lúinwë's room. He was to remain true to the word and if Turgon found that the script was not accurate, then he would be forced to reprimand him harshly and justly. Mohimed shook his head, promised he would only record the truth and followed the group into the room. The guards shut the door; its echo resonated off the walls.

"He calls out to me," Madrician whispered, and moved to take a seat on the King's bed. Gilraen glanced at her mother, whose eyes narrowed in speculation and curiosity.

"She can read thoughts," Gilraen hissed under her breath, pushed past her mother and felt a small tinge of victory from the collective gasp of the three accused.

Turgon asked Madrician to explain to King Lúinwë who had all entered his room, and as to what their purpose was. He also asked her to share with him that Turgon was acting on behalf of not only the lands of Celebrindal, but for all the lands tied with Lúinwë. Madrician did as she was told, then turned back to look at Turgon. "He asks why your father does not take the lead in this cause?"

Turgon's father stepped forward. "Though still strong in mind I have not officially stepped down from my role, but have allowed my son to dictate to others as I see fit, being that he will inherit my keep and my lands."

"He holds you in high regards and is glad that you have raised a loyal and honest son. He also is proud that the betrothal still stands. He also accepts Turgon's place in the task set before him." Turgon nodded his head in appreciation, and then waited as Madrician 'spoke' with King Lúinwë.

It was hours later when the group left the chamber. Madrician's throat was parched, her eyes swollen from freshly shed tears, as were Gilraen's. Isa, Dushanal had wept too, not out of compassion for their leader's plight, but for the words Madrician spoke that reflected all they had done. Dushanal's sexual exploits had not been left out and she buried her face in her hands as the King 'spoke' venomously about her actions and how his body reacted on its own, but his mind screamed for her to stop. He cursed Isa for pouring the vile broth down his throat, and words that Madrician cringed at repeating were handed down to his wife – her mother.

It had been revealed that Eáránë had had several lovers, but the one that fathered Madrician was nothing more than magician that had traveled with a group of elves that were known for their gaiety and merriment. Many wondered if the man was not already at the keep, celebrating Hrive 'Isia along with most all the other elven clans. Eáránë would not share whether he was on the premises or not, but with Madrician's prodding the young girl knew her father had left Eáránë behind and the Queen had not seen him since the last night they'd bedded down together, most likely the night she'd been conceived.

Eáránë could not deny her involvement in her husband's demise. Isa and Dushanal had quickly given her up in hopes to save themselves. The Queen admitted that her fear of banishment had driven her to poison her husband, for she knew to return to her father would not have been an option for her. The arrangement had taken her father a lifetime to build, and the money he'd reaped from it was too valuable to him to sacrifice – even for his daughter's well being. The poison, a mixture of herbs known to slow the bodies processes down, along with the blood of a wood tick had kept King Lúinwë from ever becoming more than he was. She had knowledge of herbs and how to manipulate their properties from her grandmother, a healer herself. Turgon ordered that Isa and Dushanal be taken to the dungeon and Queen Eáránë be confined to her quarters until he and his father met with the council.

Gilraen was left with Madrician, she had taken her sister to her room, where they had brushed each others' hair and kept their thoughts to themselves. Gilraen knew her sister was too occupied with repairing her own state of confusion to tamper with her elder sister's thoughts, so she allowed her mind to recall all that had transpired, as well as how Turgon had shown he was a force to be reckoned with. What would happen now? Would Círdan be able to cure her father? Would her mother be banished, put to the sword, or allowed to remain at the castle – but as nothing more than a woman wearing a title. She seriously doubted the later, but did she want her mother's death? And asking for that death – how would that affect Madrician?

"I'm tired, sister," Madrician whispered, and pulled herself from Gilraen's reach. "I am going to rest, but please don't worry overly much about me. She was not a mother to me, not truly. Yes, she gave me affection, but I was not so eager to see that it is love. You love me sister and though we do not share the same father, we share a bond that keeps us forever in each others' heart." Madrician kissed her sister, hugged her tight and slid under the covers. "Please, go see your betrothed, there is much on both of your minds, and I am sure the council will have word of our mother's punishment come morning."

Gilraen was torn between leaving her sister and doing what she had been told to do. Seeing Turgon was definitely something she wanted to do, but abandoning her sister in such a fragile state seemed unkind. It was with much pleading from Madrician that finally caused Gilraen to rise. Another light kiss was exchanged between the two girls, before Gilraen left, allowing Madrician alone with her own thoughts.

The Princess made her way with a heavy heart and confused thoughts toward the gardens, hoping for fresh air to clear her mind before going in search of her betrothed. She gathered her cloak around her, pulled the hood up and secured it tight against the wind. Outside she slipped on gloves, and took a slow meandering trail through the snow covered landscape. Her thoughts tumbled back and forth from her father, to her mother, to her sister, her betrothed, and back to her father. Círdan had said there was hope in helping him recover, but he made no promises, the poison had been administrated so long. Gilraen wrung her fingers together, worrying herself into a dismal state. She sat on the bench that she'd tried to seduce Círdan on. It seemed like years had passed since that embarrassing moment.

"Here you are."

Gilraen turned. Turgon was approaching; he too was bundled up against the chilly air. "I had been looking for you. The council has heard my words, and I have left them with the scribe as well as his report for them to poor over. Círdan will escort and attend to your sister when she is called upon to meet with them. My father, as well, will sit with them. He does it out of support for my leadership. I believe after this incident, he will most likely give me the reigns to our legacy."

"You will make a great leader for your people, and for mine."

Turgon took a seat next to Gilraen. His gloved fingers caressed her cheek. "I'm sorry this has all come to pass. Hrive 'Isia is supposed to be about celebrating the past year, to embrace the future. We are to be laughing, dancing, becoming drunk with wine, and intimate with those we love – yet – for you and your kingdom – it seems these things are lost to you."

Gilraen sighed. "No, not all – the people still celebrate, though in the morning most will know what has transpired, and then a dark cloud will descend. But –," she looked steadily at Turgon, "but then we'll have a celebration again – a wedding that will tie our clans together. They will laugh, dance and become drunk with wine again – have no fear of that."

The young man laughed softly. "You were strong today, as was your sister."

Princess Gilraen shrugged her shoulders. "I wish I could have eased the suffering of my father and my sister. What do you think will happen to mother?"

"She will most likely be banished. That is the recommendation I have given the council. She did not kill your father - that is the only thing that keeps her alive."