Forgotten Vows XIX
Chapter 19: Hideaway
Yeyette planted her oaken walking stick atop the deep snow, pushing through the tundra as the weight across her back strained her shoulders. Manette hugged her around the neck as she was secured to her mother’s back and the silver-wolf trailed at their heels, strapped to the shoddily-crafted sled which held their packs. She had not brought much for she had been frantic from her meeting with the elvenking and she did not want him to follow her trail a second time.
She had turned a few of their woolen blankets into coats and had bartered lamb-lined boots in a village on their way north. It had cost her coin which she did not have and so she had stolen a merchant’s purse as he lay half-drunk across a tavern table. She cared little but for distance and placing it between her and her past. Whatever crimes she must commit to keep Manette safe rested lightly on her conscience when weighed against the thought of losing her.
She trudged up the broad hillside, coming into view of the rockier mountains which many dared not trek in the best of weather let alone in the midst of winter. Even with her elven toes atop the snow, as weightless as the flakes which fell from the sky, the tundra was difficult to traverse. Once they reached the steeper peaks, she might have to set down the child and let her develop her Niqeth instincts for herself. As it was, Yeyette was in too much of a hurry to think of keeping track of the errant elfling and so she continued on with Twig following in her stead.
“Ma, why did we have to leave?” Manette asked as her mittened hands brushed across Yeyette’s icy scarf, “And why did we come here? It’s cold.”
“Manette, I told you, many times, we were never going to stay in the forest forever,” She argued as she carefully walked atop the snowy surface, “Since you were first able to hear me, I warned you. Besides, you should be happy. Not many travel so far in their lifetime.”
“But it’s cold,” She repeated her complaint in a whine, “I don’t like it.”
“You must learn to like it,” Yeyette replied dully, “You are Niqeth and you must learn to live as such.”
“Niqeth?” The girl repeated, “Was I always Niqeth?”
“Of course you were, I told you before I come from the Frost Meadows and thus you do, too,” She explained as she continued on, keeping upright as she began the descent on the other side of the hill, “Your blood binds you to this land.”
“This land?” Yeyette felt the elfling looking around, “It’s just snow.”
“Here it is, but not everywhere,” Yeyette turned to check on Twig as he pulled the sled with little effort; he must have had the blood of a snow wolf in him, “Maybe one day I’ll show you the city. But for now, we must go to the Mountains.”
“Are there dwarves in these Mountains? Like the ones you told me about?” Manette asked wondrously.
“Not here,” Yeyette admitted greyly, “But maybe one day I’ll show you that mountain, too. But it is very far away from here.”
“Maybe, maybe, maybe,” The girl grumbled, “One day.”
“Or when you are older and grown up, you can find it yourself,” Yeyette offered though the prospect scared her, “You will be as old as me and you can go wherever you want.”
“Really? Anywhere?” Manette asked before falling silent as she thought, “Where did the silver elf come from? He must have a pretty home.”
“Silver elf,” Yeyette echoed darkly and scowled, “That silver elf comes from somewhere you should never go…I don’t want you to speak of him anymore, Manette. Just forget him.”
“But why? He seemed nice,” She was still confused by the episode back in their cabin and Yeyette refused to give her any answers.
“Twig didn’t think so and I trust his wolfish intuition,” Yeyette argued as she swallowed back her anxiety, “Now enough talking. We’ve a long day ahead and I don’t need your tongue freezing to your teeth.”
It had been a long time since Yeyette had been to the Frost Meadows but she was raised there and while the winter had always been severe, it had not been this bitter. Her cheeks were raw despite the scarf wrapped around her head and she was glad that she had given Manette the thicker of the garments. Twig, to her surprise, was unfazed by the elements and the sled had made it in one piece up the mountainous slope.
Not many knew these parts of the Mountains and many would not dare to traverse them. When she had been little older than Manette, Yeyette had found an ancient map of the range and its inner tunnels and had explored them in secret with her sister until her father had discovered their secret excursions. King Bernard had made them promise never to go to the Mountains again and she had reluctantly sworn to him to refrain from the temptation; but he was dead now and she was not a princess anymore.
She led Manette into a dark cove hidden inside the second highest of the peaks, halfway down its height and concealed by a twisted brush of branches. It was not one she knew very well and she was unsure she had even been to it before, but as her memory served, a hot spring rested nearby and would do well for them if they were to remain there.
Manette kept close to the entrance as her mother helped the wolf drag the sled inside and she searched around the packs in the dim. She broke branch from the brush outside and wrapped the end in a square torn from her scarf before lighting her makeshift torch. Yeyette handed her daughter a slice of lembas as she began to search the crevices of the cave chamber and set the torch between two rocks so that it stood and lit a small glow in the rear. A tunnel led from the east wall and Yeyette said they would explore it the next day after they rested and sat with a piece of lembas herself, pulling her daughter close to her side.
“It’s dark,” Manette quivered as her mother led her through the Mountain tunnels, “Mama, please.”
“Manette,” Yeyette stopped and knelt beside her daughter, “You’ve never minded the dark before…how many nights did I find you down at the river when you weren’t suppose to be?”
“And cold,” She grumbled as she rubbed her nose, “And…strange.” The elfling looked around at the grim mountain walls, “Why did we have to leave?”
“I already explained, Manette,” Yeyette stood with exasperation and took her daughter’s hand, guiding her forward, “Stay close to Twig and all will be well. Besides, there isn’t anything here that’s going to hurt you.”
The aforementioned wolf walked before them, his nose brushing across the ground as he explored the plethora of foreign scents. The beast seemed the only one fond of the Mountains and Yeyette felt ever more irritated by her daughter’s questions and complaints. She loved the girl, of course she did, but she had done her wrong by not bringing her sooner to the Frost Meadows.
A gust of warm air met them as they turned the next corner, the sides of the tunnel no longer glassy with ice but dewy with condensation. The wolf circled back to walk behind the elves as his fur was glazed with the damp and he seemed less interested in seeking out whatever trail he had been following. Yeyette touched the wet stone of the walls and looked to the end of the tunnel where a dim light glowed.
“A hot spring,” She explained to her daughter, “I was right.”
“Hot spring?” The girl echoed with curiosity, “Is that bad?”
“No, no, it’s good,” Yeyette assured the elfling, “It means we can bathe…and it will be nice and warm.”
“Oh,” Manette replied in a single syllable as they continued on, seemingly unexcited by the prospect of a hot bath despite her former gripes.
“It should be nice to get the dirt out of your hair,” Yeyette pulled a loose strand of her daughter’s hair which peeked out from beneath her wool cap, “Any longer and you’d have hair as dark as mine.”
Manette stuck out her tongue at her mother and pulled away her silver hair, examining the slightly tinged strands. “It’s not that bad,” She protested though her voice was less than certain, “Is it?”
“I’m only teasing,” Yeyette assured her with chuckle which caught in her throat as her ears pricked at an unknown presence.
She had not heard nor seen anything but she felt a sudden energy nearby, a peculiar tingle mixed in with the balmy haze of the hot spring. Yeyette’s hold on her daughter’s hand tightened and the girl went rigid as both stopped in place and Twig began the low rumble which foretold of danger. Manette looked to her mother who swallowed and brought her finger to her lips as she tried to calm her.
Keeping her hand twined through the elfling’s, Yeyette slowly continued forward as Twig once more took the lead, his nose drawing him on. The wolf’s growling turned to snarling as he neared the corner and as he rounded it, he lunged and a struggle could be heard in the next chamber. Yeyette signaled for Manette to stay where she was as she released her hand and rushed forward, drawing the ancestral sword strapped across her hip.
Sprinting into the round chamber that housed the hot spring, she came upon the wolf as he rolled a figure in the dirt. The great cluster of grey fur was half-entwined with a cloaked figure whose silver-hair had come uncovered in the attack. Yeyette held her blade at the ready as her heart pattered furiously and she was poised to reprimand the elvenking for following her once more, her hopes dying as she found it impossible to evade her past.
“Twig,” She called to the wolf, “Back.” The beast struggled out of the arms of his opponent as he obeyed her barreling voice but continued to growl as he kept close to silver haired elf as he sat up and pushed aside his tangled locks, revealing a face she had not expected.
“Yeyette?” Legolas looked stunned as he sat sprawled across the ground, “Is that really you?”
She looked him over as she kept her distance, the rumble of the wolf’s wariness filling the cavern. His pale eyes were dull and distant and his appearance much sloppier than she had ever seen. His blonde hair was no longer flawlessly smooth but ratty and unkempt, his porcelain skin was darkened by mountain dirt, and his clothing was tattered and frayed, though his bow remained as polished as ever. Yeyette could tell just by the sight of him that he had been in the tunnels for a long time, almost too long.
“It is,” She kept from greeting him with same harshness she had done his father; if he was not maddened from isolation already, he would be shortly enough, “Are you alright, Legolas?”
“Me, I’m…” His voice trailed off as looked down at himself and cleared his throat, trying to brush away the dust on his cloak before pushing himself to his feet, “I like to come here, to the spring.” He spoke in a thin, ill-used voice, “There’s light here.”
Yeyette looked around at the chamber for the first time, the pool of steaming water reflecting the rays of light which came in through a hole in the mountain top; a natural window which many would have said was built by the gods. She looked back to her husband and withheld a sigh of pity, slowly nearing him as she placed her sword back in its sheath.
“How long have you been here?” She asked cautiously, as his eyes stayed fixated on the streaming light.
“Since you left…I went to tell your family you were gone. Truly, I was hoping you had gone home and I would find you,” He finally looked back to her, his eyes glimmering with unshed tears, “But I didn’t…and I knew I couldn’t. I came here because…I had nowhere else to go and I remember you talking about the mountains and—Why are you here?”
“I guess you could say I’ve nowhere to go, either,” She admitted softly and she gave a weak smile, “I didn’t know you’d be here.”
“Well, you needn’t worry about me, Yeyette,” He said as he sniffed back his tears, “I know you’re not here for me. I forwent that chance long ago. I know now that I…” His voice petered out again and he looked at his filthy boots, “I just wanted to be alone. I didn’t want to be near him.”
“Legolas, I’m sorry,” Her chest filled with despair as she saw the complete surrender in his eyes, “I think there’s someone you should meet.”
“What?” He looked around suddenly, his eyes falling on the wolf with renewed fear.
“Manette,” Yeyette called over her shoulder, “It’s alright. It is only a friend.”
“Friend?” Legolas smiled for the first as small footsteps neared from the corridor.
“Manette, this is Legolas,” Yeyette reached out for her daughter and pulled her close, the elfling fearful as she entered, “He’s an old friend. Legolas, this is Manette.”
“Manette?” As Legolas eyes the elfling with surprise, a remnant of his old veneer returned and he bowed to her, “It is lovely to meet you…though I fear I am quite a mess.” He pulled at his aged cloak and chewed his lip, “Forgive me.”
The girl merely nodded and returned a nervous smiled, clinging to her mother as she stared up at the ragged elf.
“Legolas, would you like to share our hearth for the night?” Yeyette was unsure of the proposition but fell too guilty to leave him to his madness, “We have lembas and some herbs we found growing with the mountain. It’ll be a thin broth but it’s better than nothing.”
“I, uh,” Legolas looked from mother to daughter and she could see the thoughts swirling within, “Certainly, I could not refuse such a lovely offer…but I must be off by the morning, you understand?”
“We do,” Yeyette accepted daintily, “Of course, you’ll have lembas for the road as well, won’t you?”
“Ever generous, Yeyette,” He bowed his head as tears suddenly returned to his eyes, “Thank you.”
“Come on then,” Yeyette waved aside his gratuity, “We’ll have our baths tomorrow, Manette,” She turned her daughter around and Legolas slowly followed, keeping his distance from the bristling wolf, “And Twig, that’s enough.” She warned as she led the odd troupe back to the corridor, bracing herself for a night with her husband.