The Lost Queen CH 1
574 years ago
Out of nowhere a portal opened in the middle of the snowy mountains in Siberia. Like an angel a young she-elf fell from the heavens. Unable to land with the grace she normally possessed the maiden smacked down and kept rolling down the slope uncontrollably.
By the time she came to a stil every uncovered part over her body was covered in abrasions and bruises. Shivering in the harsh weather conditions and groaning in pain the she elf laid battered in the snow.
It was only days later that she was found by an old monk. Carefully he wrapped the young woman in a cloak he had fetched and carried her inside with the help of the other monks.
Although she had the healthy body of an elven warrior it still took weeks for her body to heal. Finally after the monks had waited almost two months to meet their guest she opens her green eyes.
“Elen síla lúmenn’ omentielvo,” she cautiously asked not knowing of she had encountered friend or foe. Her memory was blank as the day she had been born. They stared at her like she was an three headed bird singing the national orc anthem. It was only then that she then noticed their round ears.
“A star shines on the hour of out meeting,” she swiftly translated the greeting. Once again the men just stared at her dumbfounded. “Why do you look like men but do not speak their tongue?” she wondered aloud.
One of the monks tiled his head in a confused-puppy-like fashion. It reminded her of Thranduil. People always assumed he was a quiet emotionless broody elf but in reality he was very much expressive. Not with words but his gestures spoke clear as day for the ones who knew him best.
The thought of her lover had her leaping up in the bed. He is probably so worried. By now he would have turned over every rock in Mirkwood looking for her.
Before she even had a foot on the ground she already shrunk back in the bed, her muscles screaming in pain. The men immediately started fussing over her and pushing her back on the mattress.
When it was clear she would not get up again, most of the men left her alone. An older looking man stayed next to her and attempted to communicate with her. First he pointed at himself and said Shenzu. Then he pointed at her and tilted his head.
“I am Sedariel, Queen of Mirkwoold and wife of Thranduil the great elvenking.”
“But you can call me Eda.”
-
The young elleth ran up the snowy mountain as fast as her sore legs would carry her, slipping every few steps. By the time she reached the top her knees were skinned and her fingers without feeling.
“Thranduil?” She stared up at the grey clouds she had emerged from just a few weeks prior. “Can anyone here me!” she screamed.
“Please,” her hand found rocks on their own accord, grasping them in her blue fingers.
“I’m still alive! I’m here! Please!” she threw the rocks into the air desperate to draw some attention to her crying form.
She screamed until her voice was but a hoarse whisper and her body shivered violently in the cold.
She pressed the wooden toy stag that taken from her sons toy box to her chest. One of the monks gave it to her that morning. At the time she had taken it to serve as a reminder for what she was fighting.
Fighting. She had been fighting. In Gundabad. Had she died? No that couldn’t have been. It had been a trap but she had gotten away. The memories started to come back now. Lúthien, a very powerful elf had created a portal and dragged her into her. There was no trace of her friend in the snowy mountains. If she had landed in the same place as Eda she would not be alive. Elf or no elf. No creature could survive these conditions for so long.
The young elleth was all alone in the unfamiliar lands.
She had always been keen on doing everything herself and never letting Thranduil coddle her, no matter how hard he tried. But in that instant all she wished for was for him to evelop her into his arms. To pull her out of this train wreck and lay her on their bed next to her sleeping son.
But now she feared she would never see either of them again.
