The Captive by Glorified

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Chapter 6: Alqualonde

This chapter takes a far more serious turn as Ella visits Alqualonde and the true ramifications of her actions over allowing a kin slayer into her home are felt and experienced. She begins to understand that the social, political consequences of her actions  hold far more importance than she ever imagined and what she has done is of interest and speculation far outside the confines of her small life and homestead by the sea. Please note if anyone does not want to read, there is an attempted rape at the end of the chapter and vulgar language. I felt it necessary as it gave the story gravitas.

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Chapter 6:Alqualonde

 

A few days later I had to go to Alqualonde down the coast with the finished assignments of my sculptures. Maglor could not come with me to Alqualonde given the terms of his bail, but given the natures of his crimes it would have been insensitive in the least. I would be gone a week. When he came to the house later and asked to be excused dinner with me as I had an early start and would need to get to bed early I was not surprised and felt some what relieved. But it was proof, I knew, of the tension that now permeated every interaction between us and I saw no hope of rectifying this matter immediately.

In the morning, Maglor helped me with loading the wagon I had borrowed from village. The two dray horses stood meekly as we finished covering the load with the tarpaulins. Maglor had taken to averting his eyes from me, yet watching me if he thought I was not looking as when he had first arrived. That easy bonhomie had gone replaced by an awkward silence that was ripe with the unspoken. Damn, damn, damn it I thought again and again.

 

Alqualonde, such apt lyrical name for the sprawl of buildings. They looked as if they were drunken, perched sloppily in a row after row of cottages on impossibly steep cobbled streets that topped down to the azure blue harbour in death defying bends and inclines. I thought of Tirion with its Noldarian lines and symmetry and its egoic need to impress with regal and momentous buildings. Here everything looked organic as if it had just grown out of the rock and slowly formed itself as after a few hundred millennium. It was irrepressibly whimsical and romantic. My spirit warmed to it when I had first come here and I had wandered around with my sketch book dazed at the higgledy piggledyness of it all. I wondered how much each city had been imbued by its rulers. Finarfin’s decorum and hubris seemed to reflect so much of Tirion’s stuffy architecture, whereas here, although I had never met King Olwe I speculated that his visage and persona must surely give credence to his city and would surely be more relaxed than his kinsman.

 

When my was wagon safely stored for the night I found my way to my rooms. I was staying in a small guest house run by a Falmari couple, who were always full of polite gestures and enquiries to my journey and stay without being too nosy. Its roof was weathered slates of timber that formed an up turned mushroom with the stalk being a weather vein that stood out at the top and round windows cut into it. It walls were inlaid with mother of pearls and precious stones, amethyst and topaz and what seemed the Telerian’s favourite blue stone, aquamarine. I had stayed there many before, and usually felt relaxed by the bonhomie and acceptance I found there. However, this time, I felt an unmistakable tension permeating the air even as I stepped over the threshold. The couple greeted me and the ellon perfunctorily took my bags from hand with no usual greeting. The elleth led me to the dining room after I deferred going up to my room and instead asked for a small bowl of warm water and towel to be brought to my table. I was famished from my long journey and was looking forward to my meal, however, at no point did either of them look me in the eye nor ask of my well being as they usually did, which I found odd. There did not seem to be any other guests so I thought it best to hit the nail on the head so to speak and find out what reception I was going to get here in Alqualonde. When they both came back into the dining room and were focused on serving me and, I said,

“So you know?”,

They exchanged a set of fretful looks between themselves.

“If you want, I broached”, “I can look for somewhere else to stay?”, although I had no idea other than sharing a stable with the horses. I had paid in advance and added, “you can keep the payment for the rooms”, and went to get up thinking their silence meant their agreement.

“Please”, the elleth stayed me with her hand, “Don’t go, it’s alright we’ve talked about it and we don’t care what people say, you’re welcome to stay here”. They both nodded and smiled tentatively

I nodded and smiled back in gratitude and finished my meal went up to my rooms.

I sat on the bed, so it was true then, we were the target of gossip from here to Tirion and back. I should not have expected any less I thought forlornly. Tomorrow I would go up to the palace, I had a meeting with the palace officials who were interested in my sculptures. They had bought from me before and a number of my sculptures of flying fish and birds and horses adorned the palace gardens. However, what would my reception be now?

 

The next morning the fair haired proprietress knocked my door.

“I was wondering if you would like a hand getting ready”, she asked tentatively.

She had a bowl of steaming water in her hand and hair brushes and clips and a bag on her arm, that looked promising of other potions and creams to prettify.

“That would be wonderful”, I said. I had already bathed in the small bathroom, the bath being fresh sea water had been cold but refreshing.

 

I sat on the on a low chair in my outer robe, as she came up behind me and stared to arrange my hair. Although I knew Olwe’s court did not stand on ceremony I knew it would not do to appear in my travelling breeches and boots. I had bought with me a fine blue linen gown which I had hung up the night before in the bathroom hoping the creases would come out. The elleth, her name was Gelerial, smoothed and brushed my hair marvelling at its dark colour and sheen. She politely did not ask why I kept it so short; according to Elvish standards it was only just reaching my shoulder blades and therefore woefully short for an elleth. She skilfully weaved and wove my hair back back from my face and I luxuriated in her touch as she was deft and did not pull or tug me.

 

“What time are they expecting you?”, she asked timidly,

“Oh not till mid morning”, I said,

“Will you meet the King?”, she asked,

I laughed, “Oh no I am far too lowly for that, perhaps a lower official of a lower official of a lower official”, I laughed again and she laughed with me.

“Would you like someone to walk up with you to the palace she asked?”,

“Why?”, I asked innocently,

“Well its quite a climb, it would be company?”

I opened my eyes which I had kept closed until then and turning assayed her,

“Do I need someone to guard me I asked laughing?”,

She smiled awkwardly blushing.

“I see,” I said, “whatever you think is necessary”, not wanting to embarrass her further by protesting.

I watched her wondering what she was thinking. I couldn’t help it I had to ask.

“What is it they are saying about me?”

“They….they.....say…..” ,I heard her gulp

“Say it……. Please”,

“They say you are his mistress”,

It came out in a rush and I heard her holding her breath and stilling her hands on my hair.

“Its alright”, I said, “people talk”,

She carried on in an awkward silence for a few minutes finishing my hair.

“Shall I get your dress?” she offered”.

I pointed to the bathroom and she came back with it nodding her head fiercely.

“Oh no this will never do its all creased. I will go down and get the creases out”,

“Thank you I said trying to sound grateful but my heart sank. So that's what they were thinking I said to myself and worse I supposed.

 

I got up and walked to the long looking glass at the far side of the room by the window and viewed myself. My hair had been caught back from face not severely but in soft full relaxed loops caught with gems and pearls randomly. They would match cobalt blue dress. I smiled at myself and my face came alive, my dimples and up turned nose looked delicate and feminine. The elleth had put khol around my lashes and powdered my nose and my large dark eyes framed by hair stared back at me. At hat moment my dress arrived back with Gelerial holding it above head obscuring her face.

She helped me into it and did up the laces at back.

“There you look splendid all set for the court”, she said,

“Oh I don’t think I get an entrance to the court, I think just around the back entrance is good enough for me”,

“Well any way you look beautiful enough for it”, she smiled., trying to make up for the awkwardness of earlier.

I demurely blushed and smooth my hands on the blue dress wondering at how it hugged my curves.

 

Half an hour later, I was walking up to the palace with my guide come body guard. He was a Falmari sailor given his swaying gait and calloused hands. He was polite but passed no more conversation than was deemed polite.

 

I was greeted at gates by an official I had not seen before and shown into a large domed waiting come entrance hall. All around marble shone in glossy lines of cream and soft oranges and peaches. I had never been into the palace proper, only as far as the outer building but now I sat up looking up in amazement. The next thing I knew was I heard a soft swish of clothing and dropped my gaze to find someone who could only be the king himself, I recognised him straight away from the familial similarities with Finarfin. But beyond that the similarities stopped.

He stood strategically in a shaft of sunlight from the open dome.

“Well met”, he said genially, “please walk with me”.

Unaccustomed as I was with walking with Kings I could not help stealing looks at him. Olwe had the same silver golden hair of Finarfin his brother but he was a different from Finarfin as could be supposed. His hair was caught in a low pony tail and had come away in messy strands. Soft violet robes floated around him wrapped like some sort of toga. On his head were fronds of sea kelp and starred urchins which added to his bohemian appeal. He was neither young nor old but I could see antiquity in his icy blue eyes. Even though so lax as a Olwe’s court was I knew this was a great honour to be greeted by the King in person. Olwe motioned me to follow him.

“Your Sculptures they suit my realm”,

“Yes I think so, yes , …. thank you”, I stuttered, unsure of how to reply,

“I particularly like the horses, you have a Mearas ?”, He questioned

“Yes”, I replied.

“It is a great honour they only choose once and their choice is unfaltering. It was part of the reason I allowed your venture here”,

I was alarmed and humbled that such royalty as Olwe had taken an interest in me.

Thank you I mumbled”

“You know they only choose those as pure as them selves”,

“Oh”, I blushed taken aback unsure of how to reply to such a compliment.

 

Olwe walked and motioned for me to follow him. Courtiers nodded deferentially to him and far above our heads I could hear the distant peal of children’s laughter. We came to a wide balcony over looking the turquoise bay of Eldamar. Olwe spread his hand out in display.

“It is beautiful” I said and I meant it. The softness of the light here was countered by being further away than Tirion was from Mount Taniquetil. There I found the cast of light a little too bright and it made me giddy as if I was always trying to readjust my sight. Bit here long turquoise and purple shadow stretched across the landscape from the Pelori.

 

“The Peredhil, he must be grateful to you for taking him in. He could not of course, it would have upset half his house. It must must be handy to have him so near, his foster father so he calls him I believe”.

My voice caught in my throat I had no idea Olwe would broach such a subject. I felt utterly flustered and out of my breathe.

“And how do you find him? Remorseful?”,

“I have never asked, its so long ago, its not my place to”,…. my voice trailed away.

“Not your place. The only one who would give in shelter apart from the Peredhil not even his own family”.

Olwe turned to me his eyes blue icy shards of questioning.

I felt stuck and immobile under that assessing gaze.

“Peace!”, …. he signalled with his palm and turned the subject to more mundane matters of payment.

 

 

It was late and all I could think of was getting back to the guest house before my early start tomorrow. Olwe had bought all my sculptures and paid me well in return. Coin would follow me on by courier. As I walked back to my rooms I mused on the strange meeting I had had today with the King. Not doubt like the rest of Alqualonde he had wanted to satisfy his curiosity about the person who would dare to take a kin slayer in. As I walked the shadows were deepening in the twisting ally ways and lamps were being lit in homes and in the main streets. I decided to take the back passage ways as I knew them quite well and was scurrying through them, my arms wrapped around me at the slight chill that was staring to permeate the air when I was suddenly grabbed from behind forcefully. I was slammed up against a wall. I could not see my attacker, other than he was male and a good head and a half half than me. He held me pinned against the wall his arm across my stomach and the other across my shoulders.

“No noise or I’ll gut you”, you he said.

His accent was thick Falmari. I nodded as best I could and he released his hand from my mouth.

“What do you want?, I have no coin nothing on me”, I said hoarsely.

“Shut up”, he reprimanded.

I became silent, trying to control my ragged breathing.

My attacker stood immobile over me still pinning me to the wall with his body and weight.

He released my shoulder and pulled at the front of dress ripping it exposing my breasts and then cupped them savagely squeezing and pinching my nipples enough to hurt me, I whimpered. He lifted my skirts with the other hand and pulled my undergarment down and then cupped my sex I squirmed trying to get away from his touch.

“Stop it”, he said.

I froze as from somewhere he place a knife to my neck I could see it gleam and feel its cold tip on the pulsing vein in my neck

He nudged my legs open and inserted his fingers into me then out and then in again.

His touch burned and hurt me as the friction was dry and un arousing.

“Do you like that slut?”, he said, “Is this what he does to you?”.

I heard a noise as he stared to undress himself and then I felt him nudge is length up against my entrance,

“Is this what you want whore, did you open your legs for him, like your doing for me?”,

He stared to stretched my dry core open with the head of his length and was already breaching me and I could see no way to stop this from happening when I felt something coil inside me and radiated out to my limbs.

I felt light head and knew what was happening.

He was still speaking in disgusting obscenities to me a when I brought my in right hand down in a mighty sweep across his face ripping and tearing the flesh. He screamed and recoiled and I had my moment of escape, he would bear the scar forever, I thought. I ran till my lungs seared trying to cover up my exposed breasts. I reached the guest house and paused outside in the shadows to get my breath and compose my attire. I felt giddy and the adrenalin was still pumping around enough to make me feel elated that I had got away when I retched and vomited violently.

I wiped my mouth still shaking and composed myself as best I could. No was around and I stole up to my room and the next morning left early. Alqualonde was not longer safe for me.

 

 

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Chapter End Notes

Gosh this was a big, difficult chapter to write.The story needed to reach outside the confines of Ella's small life and she needed to see the bigger context of her actions. As for the names I am going to be sticking to Sindarin as I find Quenya names indescribably difficult to remember and simply would not do them justice. I had great fun describing Alqualonde through Ella's artistic vision. As for the attempted rape I simply do not hold with Elves being all high and spiritually noble. If they are able to commit genocide they are able do commit other heinous acts. It is their individual actions which give them nobility not  birth or an inherent racial superiority.