Upon Earth's Opening

Chapter 5 : The Sea Princess and The Land Prince

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The next morning, Caen woke up feeling well-rested and content. But those happy feelings disappeared just about when she realized that she was in a bed that was not her own and she didn’t remember how she got there.

She sat up, glancing around the room, trying to figure out where she was. She guessed that it was a guest’s chamber, since it was decidedly neater than every long-term occupant’s room she’d ever come across. There was a blanket thrown haphazardly over the back of a chair and the wardrobe was open.

Just as Caen had stood up to leave the room, the bathing room door opened and, who else but Legolas, walked out of the room wearing naught but a towel wrapped around his waist and dripping water all over the floor.

“Oh, Lady Caen, you’re awake,” he said with a grin.

“Oh, Prince Legolas, you’re naked,” she replied. “What am I doing in here?” she demanded, not bothering with any further niceties.

“You cannot remember?” Legolas asked, walking to the open wardrobe and taking out a folded pair of pants. After dropping the towel, he pulled them on. Caen glared at him.

“No, I cannot remember. That is why I’m asking you!” This man was absolutely the most arrogant elf she’d ever met. Well, next to her own father.

“Yes, I suppose that is obvious, since you seem quite distraught about waking up in here,” Legolas commented. “...In my bed,” he taunted with a sly grin.

“Do you enjoy taunting me?” Caen shot.

“Very much, yes,” he grinned devilishly.

“I should hit you,” Caen spat.

“Oh, but hitting is not very ladylike, my lady Water Nymph.”

“Might I remind you that I stole your clothes yesterday? Do I seem to care about being ladylike?”

“You talk like a lady, therefore you are a lady,” Legolas retorted quickly.

“I damn well do not!” Caen snapped. This man was infuriating. “Now will you please tell me what I am doing in your room?”

“Very well, since you said ‘please’. After we danced, you are an excellent dancer, by the way, we sat in the hall and listened to the old hobbit tell a long and drawn-out tale. You fell asleep ten minutes in, and I took the liberty of carrying you to your room. When I didn’t find it and when my arms were getting tired from carrying you to Mordor and back, I decided that it would be easier to just take you here,” Legolas explained.

“Well that’snot quite as exciting as I expected,” Caen commented, calming down. She hadn’t blown it! Good.

She couldn’t sleep with this elf... no matter how absolutely wonderful she knew it would be. She should be able to pull this mission off by simply befriending him. Screw whatever he father said about having to seduce the elves to get information. Being Legolas’ friend would be best. Last night she had allowed herself a little fun, but from now on it was all business...

And none of that business included kissing, flirting, or dancing.

(Damn.)

“I could spice it up a bit, saying that you fainted from exhaustion after I made passionate love to you,” Legolas suggested.

“Oh, but that would be a very tall tale, my scarcely-clothed friend. So tall, that nobody would believe you.” Caen waved her finger in the air. “And now that I have my answer, I will disappear to ready myself for the day, since I seem to still be ready for yesterday,” she gestured to the evening gown that she was still wearing. “Thank you, by the way, for not returning the favor and stealing my clothes.”

“I will see you later, my lady Water Nymph,” Legolas bowed to her.

If there was anything Caen could be damned to do for eternity, it would be working in a library. That was assuming that she could actually read the books as she shelved them.

But no. Elrond never asked her to work in the library. When he asked her to do favors for him, it was usually organizing papers in his study, filing them and wrapping them up in leather to protect them, since he seemed uninterested in actually doing the odious task himself. Who knows why he couldn’t have someone else do it. He always asked Caen to.

As dull as this was, it meant that Caen had access to every important paper on Elrond’s desk. That simple reason was why she actually took on the task. There were correspondences between Elrond and the leaders of many important people all over Middle Earth, all at her fingertips. It made spying extremely easy. Not once did she think twice about reading the most private of information.

Caen was doing exactly this, reading a long and drawn-out letter from Celeborn of Lothlórien (blah, blah, blah... who cares about those trees?), when she heard Elrond and Gandalf the Grey outside the office. She quickly set down those papers and prepared a piece of leather in which to bind the series of letters from Celeborn, making a mental note to finish reading it later. Elrond entered the office first, giving Caen a proud smile and saying, “I see you’re hard at work, my dear.”

“Yes, my Lord, I am,” Caen replied, tying a string around the rolled-up leather and papers.

“My dear, if you’ll excuse Lord Elrond and I, we have personal matters to discuss,” Gandalf said, also smiling and holding open the door for Caen to exit. Caen flashed them her own smile, set down what she was working on, and then exited quietly and docilely. Once the door was shut and locked, she immediately tore down the hallway, ran up a flight of stairs, and entered a room which was not her own. Nobody was inside, luckily. She opened the door to the balcony and leapt into the tree right outside Elrond’s window. Slowly, her heart beating in her ears, she inched toward the quiet conversation that Elrond and Gandalf were having.

“...he has crossed orcs with goblin men, he’s breeding an army in the caverns of Isengard,” Gandalf said to Elrond, his tone grave. Caen smirked at the ingeniousness of Saruman’s work. The army, the Uruk Hai, were strong and durable. They were also being created by the thousands.

Hah. “Good” had no chance.

Caen kept listening. “Gandalf, the Ring cannot stay here,” Elrond said wearily.

The Ring? The Ring was here? This was certainly news! Why had Caen not heard of this before now? Caen smirked to herself, suddenly proud of her good spy-work. She listened until the end of the conversation (it was boring shit about the race of men failing and the world being essentially doomed), and then slipped away to go and find the mysterious hobbit bearing the Ring. Wow... THE Ring! She might actually get to see it! Touch it?

It was said to corrupt whoever was in possession of it. That little hobbit had no chance!

Caen slipped down the tree and walked toward the courtyard, intending to find someone who could direct her to see the hobbit who possessed the Ring. Once in the courtyard, she approached the fountain in the center of it, staring down at the water. She sat on the edge and dipped a hand in it, suddenly struck with memories of the first time she’d seen the fountain. She’d been terrified of what had been happening. She’d only been a child, and she had been abandoned. She remembered it all so well.

---

“Mother, tell me a story, please! Tell me of the princess of the sea!”

“Oh Caen, you do love that story, don’t you?” her mother smiled at her, braiding her auburn hair, so like her own, and twisting its curls between her fingers expertly.

“Yes, I do! I do!” Caen bounced happily.

“Alright then,” her mother conceded. “In a time long ago and in a land far away, there was a sea. And in that sea, there lived a princess. The princess had a mother and father who loved her very much. They lived in a palace of coral and seaweed, and fish and many creatures of the sea were their friends. The Princess had three brothers and two sisters, and the six siblings lived happily together in their coral palace.

“But one day, an evil man came and stole away the Princess. He took rope and bound her hands and feet so she could not swim away and bound her mouth so she could not scream.”

“But she could talk to animals!” Caen inserted happily. She knew this story inside and out.

“Yes, my darling, she could. The princess called upon the animals to save her, but they tried and tried and could not break the ropes. The evil man laughed at their attempts. There was one very small fish, however, and this fish was very afraid. He was so small he knew he could not even try to set the princess free! So he swam as fast as he could to get the handsome prince of the land to come and free her. The prince heard the fish’s call,”

“And came to her rescue!” Caen burst out again.

“You know this story so well, why do you need me to tell it again and again?” her mother asked with a smile.

“Because I like when you tell it, mother!” Caen answered, turning around so her mother could braid the other side of her hair. She loved when her mother braided her hair. Her mother beamed, so proud of her daughter for just being the wonderful child that she was.

“Well, the prince of the land heard the fish’s plea for help and dove into the water. He swam to the princess’s rescue and challenged the evil man. The evil man took up his offer and they dueled the next morning on the seashore.

“The evil man and the prince fought for hours upon hours, but in a moment of distraction brought about by the changing tide, the evil man lost concentration and the prince seized his opportunity. He thrust his sword deep into the evil man’s body, and the evil man died that day on the shore.

“The prince swam and rescued the princess from her prison. They spent much time together, and fell in love. They were married on the shore, the same spot where the prince had fought for the princess’ life, and they lived...”

“Happily ever after!” Caen chimed in with her mother. “I love that story!”

“I know you do,” her mother smiled. Caen wrapped her arms around her mother in a hug only a daughter can share with her mother.

The door opened, and the smiles vanished from the two females’ faces.

“Luía, we need to talk,” the elf in the doorway said, addressing Caen’s mother.

“Caen, go to your room, sweetheart. Your father and I need to talk,” she said, pushing her daughter into another room and shutting the door. But Caen caught the door before it shut all the way, shoving her toes between the door and the doorframe. Caen watched her mother face her father, straightening and glaring at the man.

“I have a new job and I require our daughter.”

“You require her? Tell me, Morthen, what does that mean?”

“I need her to help me with my job, woman! Do you not understand me?” Morthen roared.

“I will not let you enslave our daughter, too!” Luía snarled. “You abused me, your wife. Do you expect me to just hand her over to you after all the damage you’ve done to us?”

“I will do what I want with my daughter!” Morthen challenged, walking around the table and unsheathing a knife as he spoke.

“She is a child, Morthen! A small child, not even old enough to read! I beg of you, do not do this!”

“I WILL DO WHAT I WANT!” Morthen roared, taking the knife and plunging it into Luía’s body.

“You bastard,” Luía spluttered. “You accursed bastard!”

Caen screamed. She did not know how long she screamed and cried for before her father opened the door and covered her mouth with his hand. Caen tried to continue screaming, but she quickly ran out of air, and her lungs begged for more. She bit down on the large and calloused hand and Morthen yelled in frustration. Caen gasped for air.

“Despicable child! You will do what I say!” he yelled at Caen.

Caen, too afraid to do anything else, obeyed him.

She knew she was the kidnapped princess now.

Morthen took her to the edge of the Mirkwood borders, and left her there. “Stay here,” he said. “Say nothing to anyone.”

And Caen obeyed him, too afraid to do anything else, and she said nothing. Somehow her child’s mind she knew she’d end up like her mother if she disobeyed him.

A group of elves on patrol had found her and taken her back to the underground Mirkwood palace, and people had questioned her. One healer elf determined that she could not speak. And she didn’t speak... until she’d seen the boy Prince. Legolas. He was exactly who she needed. A Prince to save her from her evil man. And so she’d spoken her name.

But Legolas didn’t save her. He disappeared entirely from her life, living his own, instead.

Caen didn’t cry thinking about her mother’s murder and her own abandonment so long ago. She’d been young, lost, afraid, exposed... and without a family. So much of that would break a child’s spirit. All of that was a dull pain now. An old and scarred-over wound.

But Caen’s spirit was not broken. She was doomed to a lifetime of memories. Doomed to wishing for a prince to come and rescue her from something nobody knew about.