Steps of Doom

Disclaimer: see chapter 1

I’d like to thank the reviewers – couldn’t do it without you guys !!


Chapter 2


Morganne stared at the girl in the mirror. *This can’t be me?* she thought. She looked so different … so much older. Her long black curls had been braided with fine silver tread, and a light blue garment accentuated her dark grey eyes. Morganne shivered when she remember why she was here. Tonight was the night. Tonight she was going to sing for the newly crowned King Elessar and all his distinguished guests. The ceremony would take place in an hour and Morganne had been given permission to attend it with the servants. For the first time in her life, she felt really nervous.

The last days had been hectic. As soon as Minyalach had brought her to the palace, she had shown her her room and introduced her to the other servants whom all had been very friendly towards her.
With one of the younger girls, Navril, she almost immediately became friends. She had shown Morganne through the castle and although Morganne really had tried to remember everything, she still lost her way. It had caused several embracing situations. For instance, she had walked in, by accident, on lord Faramir and lady Éowyn sharing an intimate moment. Something she didn’t want to happen again !

Yesterday Navril had shown her where she would sing and she had been given some time to practice. She smiled as she remembered the many curious servants who were drawn by the sound of her harp. Morganne had sang a few upbeat songs and everybody had begun to dance. It felt good to see that not all pleasant emotions like joy and friendship had disappeared in the many years of despair and darkness.
And now there would be a king again. She hadn’t met Aragorn, son of Arathorn, the future king Elessar, so far. Morganne hadn’t seen the Elf that came round her house four days ago either. But she had heard from other servants about the distinguished guest that started to arrive: King Éomer of Rohan, brother of Lady Éowyn, Mithrandir, and a certain Elven-prince, Legolas of Mirkwood, who had been one of the nine walkers of the famous fellowship.
The four famous half-lings were to be present also. Morganne had not met them yet, but had heard a lot about the small Shire-folk. Especially the deeds of Frodo Baggins and Samwise Gamgee - together they had destroyed the One Ring by throwing it in Mount Doom - were fast becoming the favourite stories to be told around the fireplace in the evening.

Morganne shivered and rose to her feet. She took a deep breath. Outside she heard the noise of the large crowd gathering in the courtyard. There was a soft knock on her door.
“Morganne? It is time,” came Navril’s gentle voice.
“I’m coming.”
She opened her door and was glad to see her friend. Navril looked beautiful. Her dark blonde hair was elegantly decorated and her soft brown eyes gleamed with anticipation. Together the two girls walked through the many corridors until they reached the other servants who were gathered in a corner of the courtyard.

Morganne held her breath when she saw the huge crowd. Surely, they weren’t all coming to the feast tonight? She didn’t have to sing for such a host of people, did she? She felt her stomach turn. She glanced at Navril and said softly:
“I’m going back inside, I suddenly don’t feel so well.”
Navril watched her with concern.
“Shall I come with you?”
Morganne shook her head.
“No, that won’t be necessary. You stay. I know how much you looked forward to this moment. I will see you later.”
Navril seemed to hesitate, but when she saw the determent look in Morganne’s eyes, she nodded.
“Alright, but I’m coming to see you as soon as the ceremony is over.”
Morganne gave a small smile and entered the palace quickly.

With her head held in her hands she sat in the large hall were she would sing in a few moments time. What was wrong with her? Why the unexpected nerves? Hadn’t she done this before? True, her audience had always been the local baker and butcher, and not, like this time, all the distinguished people from Middle-Earth, but still … . She groaned.
“Do you feel alright, my Lady?”
Startled she looked up and stared straight in the face of the brown-haired Elf that had come round her home a few days ago.
“Master Elf, I’m sorry … I …”
“Don’t be. I didn’t mean to startle you.” He looked at her intently and repeated: “Is everything alright?”
Morganne nodded, but that did not seem to convince him, because he seated himself beside her. Gently he took her hand in his. Morganne jumped by the sudden contact.
“You’re trembling.”
Morganne hesitated a moment but then silently admitted: “I’m nervous.”
The elf laughed softly.
Morganne looked at him irritated, which made him laugh even harder.
“I’m sorry,” he said, “I keep forgetting that humans always are concerned to small things…”
“I don’t think my …”
“It is…,” he interrupted. “What exactly are you worrying about?”
Morganne stood up. She felt herself getting angry. How dare he? What gave him the right to act so trivial about her feelings?
“I’m not an Elf,” she heard herself answer edgily. “I’m not perfect, I make mistakes, and I’m not looking forward to be the laughing stock of all the high placed people of middle-earth.”
As soon as she had said those words, she realized that she might have gone too far, and that he could take her answer as an insult.
Therefore she added hurriedly “My Lord”.
Suddenly she felt a hand on her shoulder and she turned around. She hadn’t notice him rise.
“You won’t,” he said calmly. “You have your talent. Believe in yourself, and believe in the music you sing.” Smiling he added, “You don’t have to call me ‘my Lord’ all the time. I am not nobility. My name is Nemecir.”
“Morganne.”
He nodded. “ I remember. Mae govannen, Morganne.”
“Excuse me?”
“Mae govannen. It’s Sindarin for ‘well met’”
“Oh.” Hesitantly she tried the strange language: “Mae govannen, Nemecir.”
“Good, so now we are properly introduced. I hope I have reassured you a bit. My thoughts will be with you. But now I’m afraid I will have to leave you, or I won’t be able to do what I came for.”
“Maybe I can help?”
Surprised he looked at her.
“Maybe you can. See, I have to add an extra seat next to the king, and I have no idea where the cutlery is, for starters.”
“Can’t the servants do that?” asked Morganne amazed. “After all you’re a guest!”
“I did not want to bother them. A coronation ceremony is a once in a life time experience and I didn’t want to take that away from them. Besides I will probably attend dozens more…”
Morganne laughed. She had completely forgotten about her fears and before she realized what she did, she took Nemecir’s hand and led him to the kitchens
“I can’t guarantee you that we will be back in time. I tend to lose my way her fairly easy.”
All the elf did was smile, barely concealing a laugh.


***


Luckily Morganne’s memory didn’t fail her this time and they returned quickly with the necessary plates, knives and forks. Suddenly a loud cheer erupted in the background; Gondor had officially a new King.
Morganne turned to Nemecir.
“Do you know King Elessar?”
“I met him a long time ago, when he came to visit my home, Mirkwood, Eryn Lasgalen as I should say now. He is a very good friend of Prince Legolas. I don’t really know him, but I do know that he’s a trustworthy and an honourable man. He will be a good King.”
Morganne nodded and stared at the table.
“Why are we setting another seat? I can hardly imagine the servants forgetting someone.”
“Let’s just say that someone very important has arrived rather unexpectedly …”
Morganne wanted to ask more but they were suddenly interrupted by the sound of trumpets.
“Ah, that will be them.”
Morganne realized they were standing alone in the great hall and the last thing she wanted was attracting immediately all the attention. Nemecir felt her discomfort and led her swiftly to one of the side corridors, were luckily the first servants started to emerge to rush to the kitchens.
“Morganne!”
Navril ran to her friend and gave her a worried look. “Are you feeling any better?”
Morganne nodded.
“Good. It’s a shame you missed it, you’ll never guess what happened…”
Her eyes fell on the Elf. At once, she curtsied.
“My Lord, I’m sorry, I did not notice you… I meant no offence.”
Nemecir smiled.
“No offence taken.” Then he turned to Morganne. “I will take my leave now. They will wonder where I am. I will see you later.”
He gave her a last encouraging smile en walked away.

Navril stared at Morganne in shock.
“An Elf?? How…??”
Morganne shrugged. “You could say he comforted me, but I’ll tell you more about it later. Come, tell me everything that happened outside! I want to hear every detail …”
“Well…”
“Navril, girl, there you are ?!” the voice of Lomarte , the cook, shouted.
“Come on, we don’t have all day. All the guest will be here in a few moments time and we can’t have them waiting for their food now can we!”
Navril gave Morganne an apologetic look. “Sorry, an other time perhaps? I’ll see you after the feast…”
“I’m not eating with you?”
Navril laughed merrily: “No, tonight you are one of the guests.”
“But…”
“I’m sorry, I really have to go. See you later!” and with that Navril disappeared in the corridors.

At that moment the first guests started to come in. Morganne pressed herself against the cold stone wall so she wouldn’t be noticed. At once, she recognized the white figure of Mithrandir who had led the troops of Gondor after the mental breakdown of Lord Denethor. He was talking to a man, who she immediately identified as the new king. The regal way he walked, his presence, all this showed his high decent.
Yes, she knew in an instant, King Elessar would be a good King.
Suddenly she noticed that he was leading someone by his arm. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw the woman. Her dark beautiful adorned hair contrasted magnificently with her pale delicate skin and despite her fairly simple light green garment she radiated an extraordinary beauty.

Morganne now understood why they had placed an extra seat; Gondor not only had a new King but a new Queen as well.
Great was her amazement when she saw that King Elessar’s chosen one was indeed an Elf. So the rumours had been true…
To Morganne’s fright the She-Elf suddenly turned and her bright gaze stared directly in the girls’. Morganne’s heart skipped a beat. For a moment she saw a deep sorrow in the Queens eyes but it disappeared so fast that Morganne doubted if she had seen it correctly. The Queen nodded gently to her, and she could only nod back. She felt that something significant had happened, but it would be several years before she would understand the deep meaning of it.
Quickly Morganne turned and walked away.

Only some time later, when a lot more people were present, Morganne had enough courage to go back into the room. Now she wouldn’t stand out. Confused she walked to the spot where she would be singing. She stopped when she saw a young boy carefully touching her harp with his small hand. She smiled and walked up to him.
“If you’d like, I will teach you how to play it later.”
The boy jumped at the sound of her voice and turned to face her. It was only then that Morganne noticed that he wasn’t a child at all, but one of the Half-lings.
A friendly face with two large green eyes stared at her.
“I’ve never seen an instrument like this, and I just wanted to see it up close,” he said apologetically.
Morganne laughed and asked:
“Can you sing?”
The Half-ling nodded.
“Then I’ll teach you a couple of tunes before I leave tomorrow.”
His face lit up.
“I’m Morganne,” and she stretched out her hand
“Pergrin, but everybody calls me pippin,” and he took her hand.
“Ah, pip, I should’ve known you would be here, knowing your curiosity…” A second Half-ling, a little taller then the first one, walked up to them.
“Merry, tomorrow Morganne is going to teach me a few songs!”
Merry looked at her eagerly and Morganne burst out laughing.
“Yes, of course I will teach you too.”
Merry’s dark eyes shone with pleasure. Then he said to Pippin:
“Come, Pip, it’s time to take our seats. Aragorn is about to make his speech and then we can finally eat.”
The two of them ran away. Shaking her head Morganne watched them and waited. She didn’t know exactly what she was expected to do. Navril had told her she would be sitting with the guest, but where? A bit awkward, she looked around the hall. Suddenly she saw Nemecir beckoning her. Relieved she went to him.
“Here, this seat is available.”
Gratefully she sat beside him.
When everybody was seated and quiet, King Elessar stood and spoke with a loud and clear voice:
“I bid you all welcome to this joyous day,” he looked at the beautiful woman next to him and Morganne felt the deep love they shared. “May today be the beginning of a prosperous time of happiness and peace. Long may our peoples live in harmony with each other. However, this day also belongs to those who gave their lives. We will never forget the sacrifices they made …”
A solemn silence fell. The King raised his glass. “Hail!”
All returned the greet.
King Elessar sat back and gave a sign to the servants to start serving dinner. Soon the hall was filled with the murmurs of the many conversations.
Morganne sat at one of the outer tables, in the company of a group of Elves, of whom she only knew Nemecir.
“Who is she, our new Queen?” she asked curiously.
“She is Arwen Undómiel, the Evenstar of our people, daughter of Elrond of Imladris.”
“She’s an Elf.”
Nemecir nodded.
“Isn’t that unusual? I mean for a human and an Elf to marry.”
The Elf sighed and then nodded again. “Yes, it isn’t exactly encouraged.”
“Why? Are we humans so repulsive?” Morganne had meant it as a joke, but Nemecir shook his head seriously.
“No, it’s because of the pain this bond brings with it. Men die, Elves don’t. So the Elf is faced with a terribly choice: to give up his immortality or to remain immortal, and thus spending the rest of his live in loneliness after a few years of happiness….”
Morganne looked at the beautiful Queen. “Did she…”
“Arwen Undómiel has chosen a mortal life. She won’t be able to sail into the West with her family, to the Undying Lands.”
Morganne fell silent. She shivered when she thought of the pain and sorrow this choice must have brought. She was glad that she, as a Human, never would have to face it.
She decided to change the subject and soon they were talking of every-day things. Despite their different backgrounds and age, it became clear for both of them that they had a lot in common and with regret Morganne rose after the end of the meal, to do finally what she was asked to do.
Awkwardly she went to her harp. King Elessar saw her and asked the hall for silence. Then he spoke: “My friends, we have in our midst a special guest. This young woman is know throughout Gondor and beyond for her extraordinary musical talent.” The compliment made Morganne blush. “I’m very honoured that she will sing for us tonight. My lady …” and he bid Morganne to start.
It fell so silent that you could hear a pin drop. Morganne felt how a hundred pair of eyes stared at her in anticipation. She took a deep breath, softly stroking the familiar cords, and then she started.

***

Legolas Greenleaf listened in wonder to the young woman. He had heard many persons sing in his long life, but only a few had been able to move him this way. And she wasn’t an Elf? His eyes scanned her figure. No, she was clearly human. She was beautiful, but not according to Elf standards: her dark hair ran in wild curls over her shoulders, her lips were too full and her face was maybe a bit too round. She was tall but not as slender as most Elves.
And yet, she had an exquisite voice, and the movement of her hands over the cords of that strange instrument, gave her a certain elegance and sensuality. It was breathtaking to see how she gave herself completely to the melody, with her eyes closed. He had to admit that with her talent she surpassed the singing skills of many Elves.

***

When Morganne finished her last song, she opened her eyes and looked up. She startled when she gazed directly in two bright blue eyes. Before she could react, they were gone. She didn’t even had the time to see to who they belonged.
Nevertheless, she felt a strange feeling come over her and for the second time that night she knew something significant had happened.