Chapter Six: Morning Morning dawned too quickly for the contenders, many still sick with the previous night's festivities. Only a quick bath in one of the dell's many rivers offered the slightest respite from the clouded thoughts and sleep-deprived looks. For two, who could not bring themselves to crawl out of bed, even the promise of a refreshing dip was not consolation enough. Uruviel had been awake for some time before the sun's first rays began to pour through her window. Throwing golden beams across the marble floor - the day's herald provided her with none of its usual comfort, only a queasiness. She knew, without a doubt, that the upcoming contest was at fault - but even that simple thought could not distil her nerves. Butterflies attacked her stomach with a vengeance - and she wondered vaguely if perhaps 'butterflies' was not the appropriate term for such a nauseous feeling. Forcing herself away from the eiderdown that sheltered her, she considered dropping out of the Hunt - with the disturbing realisation that, if she didn't win, which was entirely possible, she would never live it down. It would be a disappointment to females everywhere, regardless of race. She found strength in the idea that, even if she didn't win, she could certainly find a number of ways to make certain that Haldir wouldn't either - even if they meant potential injury to the Marchwarden. No, there was no turning back now, she would play the game - but that didn't mean she had to play nicely. Grabbing a pair of leggings and a tunic from her wardrobe, she dressed quickly - if she was going to fail miserably, she might as well have a spot of breakfast first. Mayhap the food - anything - would ease her writhing stomach. Running a brush quickly through soft, golden locks - she exited the chamber, footsteps echoing quietly in the empty corridor. At the end of the hall, Haldir was little better off. For much of the night, and most of the morning he had lain awake - silver eyes meeting the wooden ceiling with a blank, lifeless stare. Now, his sharp elven ears caught the whispering sound of departing feet, which caused him to curl up, knees to his chest, in his bed. Of all the random chances in the universe, the gods had chosen to curse him thus - pitting him between hiw own pride, and his heart. Neither option had any particular trump on the other - this battle gave him little excuse for a cheerful demeanour. Rolling over, he planted both feet firmly on the cold, wooden floor - the chill not enough to sway the dizziness in his mind. Hunched over, he gently massaged his temples - eyes shut tightly, to bar out the light. At the back of his mind, he was silently praying that this was all simply a bad nightmare, and that he would wake up and be freed from its agonizing misfortunes. When he next opened his eyes, however, the sight that greeted his swimming vision was the same as before, as empty and unforgiving as ever. Stumbling forward, away from his bed, he grabbed his warden tunic - the hand-woven LothL�rien cloth would shelter him not only from the elements, but from those around him far better than his own skills. In this game, more than any other, he felt that he would need all the assistance luck, or any other source, could provide. A soft growling noise met his ears as he reached for his belt - food would be an excellent start. Tightening the worn leather about his waist, he made for the dining hall - hoping for his own sanity that everyone else was still abed. He would find out, to his dismay, that a curious few had been hoping the same thing. Bent over a plate of fruit, Uruviel munched lifelessly on a few grapes - blank eyes boring holes in the rich, oak tables. What usually held a surprisingly good flavour to her now tasted like ash, despite her desire to enjoy it - something of a last meal, before her dignity was crucified. At the opposite side of the hall, Haldir took a seat, one small piece of bread, flavoured with honey, wrapped in a leaf in his hand. Peeling back the natural covering to sample a bite, though he could feel the pastry on his tongue, he could taste nothing - nothing but the notion of being wrenched in half, torn between sides. The quick chatter of maids and contestants, of wandering habitants, seemed aimless and foreign to his mind. A horn resounded throughout the hall, turning heads and catching quick glances. The trumpeting was a signal - all contestants to the starting line. Pushing away the plate of nearly untouched food, Uruviel hoisted herself to her feet, face grim in the early morning light. This was it - this was the beginning. Her naturally rosy mouth pressed into a stern line as she marched forward with the other competitors, into the open, and waiting field. Brushing the crumbs from his hands, Haldir stood - look of resignation gone, replaced by one of steadfast determination. He had met Uruviel's eye - if only for a moment - as she exited the Hall, and found no hints of remorse or regret, only the strength he now felt, as shallow as it was. He would let love fight its own game, pride - for all it was worth - was all that mattered now. Back |
