"All that is gold does not glitter,

Not all those who wander are lost:

The old that is strong does not wither,

Deep roots are not reached by the frost."

– J.R.R. Tolkien

Chapter 55 Part I: Caith - Gift

“May it be a light to you in dark places, when all other lights go out.” - J. R. R. Tolkien

Caith's thoughts wandered to dark, long-forgotten places as he sculpted the piece from water and gold. He hadn't practiced the craft of moulding element to element in a very long time.

Damn Idunn and her prophecies!

He had been thinking of leaving even before the escapade with the princess, but since their return his resolution had grown rock solid.

"Your heart still needs to break."

Even though the meaning of the verb still needs to be clarified, the subject has been revealed, and he'd rather not stay here and allow Idunn's words to be fulfilled.

He added the last touch to the trinket in front of him: fragments of his memories - the newer precious ones and the darker past ones. Funny how he could identify the memories by the colours that whirled inside the glass-like core.

The berry blue ones, reliving them as he extracted them from his mind was the worst. He had repressed that pain for so long.

He focused on another one, barely a shade lighter. At the time he was completely livid as his sister dragged him from that cursed hell-hole, but as he took the memory out, he couldn't help but laugh at the comical fury on her face. Hell, he was completely and utterly pathetic. It was a wonder she didn't stab him or something more sinister sooner than that day.

Pushing the raw ingredients away, he took the bracelet in his hands. He finished it just in time. The king had commanded Caith to appear before him today. Knowing that he had to answer to someone for his actions, Caith thought that he'd rather answer to a pathetic human king than his own family.

A glint of gold caught his attention as he tenderly took the bracelet in his hands. The golden ones are the good ones - the ones from the past few months. Aebbé smiling at him a few nights ago before jumping from her window. He never thought she'd actually do it. Her concern as she studied the bruises on his neck after the fight with his brother. And his favourite: Aebbé frowning as he rescued her from that cell. Or more so, the light on her face as she joyously examined the sugar cubes he brought to have tea with her.

On Tryggvi and Vigdis! Bless his parents' humble souls, but what a mess he had made!

That was why he had decided, that after this meeting and giving her the bracelet, he would retreat until his family saw reason and begged for his help.

Caith traveled from the forest, leaving his fears behind as he entered Raven's Peak's great hall. It was filled to the brim with bored soldiers and anxious nobility. The enemy's raids and battles have ceased, lulling the inhabitants into an uneasy feeling of peace. Yet Caith knew that it was only the calm before the storm.

“Lord Caith is here, as his king has commanded,” a sinewy lad announced while sweat threatened to break out on his forehead.

All eyes turned to Caith, who despite never feeling anxious, had to battle himself from swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat.

The king looked suspiciously chipper. “Lord Caith! I promised you your reward exactly a month ago. First things first, I welcome you into my hall. Come closer.”

Caith walked slowly and deliberately. He did not trust this king. He did not know the game that the king was playing and he was not interested in playing against the darkness Ferdaid Vaubadon had been tainted with.

As he arrived at the steps to the throne, he noticed an unusual number of guards, summing up the situation in half a heartbeat. He had become a liability for the king. Caith knew too much, even though the king probably only had his suspicions.

The Dark One must have a greater influence than Caith could ever have imagined.

Perhaps the time to reveal himself had arrived, but if the king was bold enough to try to arrest Caith in front of an audience, he would have taken the appropriate measures. If he had water nearby, he would be fine. His panic grew when he couldn't find any unbound water in the hall. He would have to fight his way out.

“Lord Caith, you would never know the extent of my gratitude for the service you performed to me when you rescued my sister. I wish to repay that kindness you showed to my kingdom and myself.” The king flinched, and then he smiled. “I announce your marriage princess Aebbé.”

Caith’s mouth refused before his mind could realise it. “No.”

The king’s smile faded.

This was worse than an arrest. This was totally unexpected. Caith could not commit to any marriage - especially not to Aebbé.

“You have to. You see me as I truly am: a brother wanting to protect his sister. You are the only one worthy of her.”

Aebbé deserves more than half-truths and complete lies. He had no doubt that he was quite fond of Aebbé, but that was exactly that reason that prevented him from marrying her.

He would lose her at the end of her lifetime. He did not want to get any closer to her than he already has. He had bargained on being able to leave her behind when this war ended.

The King’s desperate voice reminded Caith of the problem at hand. “You see me as I am, as I see you,” he repeated in a quivering voice.

Caith studied the King again. There was no darkness in him at the moment. He was just a man. His words must have meant something more.

He sees me. He knows who I am, as I know who he might be at times. He must know everything that happened. He’s fighting my brother in his own way.

It could be easy to annul the marriage after the war, provided that they won, or to fake his death in the time leading to the marriage.

A part of him would love to marry her, but to keep her as his would be wrong and selfish.

For the moment, he could only accept the king’s proposal. He had to keep the peace and the king’s allegiance, for what that was worth. The marriage would also need planning, so he would have at least two more months. It might be enough time to stop the war.

He would have to visit his family and tell them.

“How can I refuse my king? My momentary hesitation was the shock of being chosen for such an honour. How can I be worth it at all? I gladly accept the princess of Ardam’s hand in marriage, if it is the will of my king.”

Caith bowed deeply. He hoped that he had soothed the King. The king clasped his hands together. “My lords, ladies and friends, I am very pleased to invite everyone to my sister’s wedding tomorrow. It will be the feast of your lifetime.”

Caith almost staggered backward down the steps.

Tomorrow is too soon.

Yet, his resolve crumbled away and doubt and refusal hardened into acceptance. If this was how things came to be, then he would not fight the small favour life had bestowed upon him after centuries lacking luck.

He would take Aebbé as his wife, and she will be it completely.

“The world is indeed full of peril, and in it there are many dark places; but still there is much that is fair, and though in all lands love is now mingled with grief, it grows perhaps the greater.” - J.R.R. Tolkien,

The guards knock on my door, open it and announce: “Caith of the Second Order is here to beg an audience.”

It immediately registers in my brain that my brother’s orders must have changed to allow Caith to visit me on his own. I frown. That is suspicious. Why would my brother change his mind? Except if Caith lied his way in, which would be possible, but a few days ago Caith came to drink tea under the guise of being allowed so by my brothers. The guards and crows only seem to fall for his antics the first time. Caith brought the tea and sugar cubes he called them - quaint little coloured sugar crystals.

My heart trips over its feet in the dance it is performing ad I watch him stride closer. I wonder why he has come. It is past the usual visiting hours.

“Caith, it is an honour.” I tempt my luck: “Guards, you can please step outside and close the door.”

The guards do not object, closing the door behind them as they leave, which makes the whole situation even stranger.

“This is a pleasant surprise, Caith.”

“I am pleasant company to have.”

My laughter fills up my room. “I am not so much.”

“You frown too much, but I would miss it if you don't frown.”

I laugh again at the odd compliment and then brush it away with a question. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company at this unusual hour?”

“The King requested my presence,” he says almost guiltily.

“In that case, it saddens me to inform you that you are lost. I am his sister, not him.”

“For a moment I thought I was lost. I did not recognise the path my feet led me on, but when I arrived at your door, I realised that I am exactly where I should be.”

My stomach joins my heart in their dance of somersaults.

“Since you are here now, do you want tea? It might take a while. The Crows are asleep.”

“The Crows?” He raises an eyebrow.

“The three old crones that claim to wait on me.”

He laughs.

“They have been slacking in their regime of remaking me for the past week.”

“You won’t allow anyone to remake you.”

“You are absolutely correct. So do you want tea?”

“No, I do not have time to waste.”

He sees my scowl. “Spending time with you is not a waste, but I have to return to my duties. I had to ask an elf to stand in for me so I could come here to see your brother. As you can imagine, he did not like the idea of doing my duties at all.”

“Then why are you here, Caith?”

He shifts around on his feet, a hint of crimson forming on his cheeks. “I have been working on a gift for you over the last few days.”

My heart trips again. It might mean nothing, but it might be everything and more.

“I cannot afford to be placed deeper in your debt.”

He smiles. “You are not in my debt, Aebbé. I am in yours.”

“I do not recall a debt like that.”

Caith and I are tiptoeing around with words, trying to find the right ones to start our dance.

He holds out his left hand. The air shimmers. A liquid-like glass object appears in his hand. It shifts into a flower with a stem, the likeness of something I have never seen before. It is breathtakingly beautiful.

“Aebbé, you saved me from anger and resentment. You called my name. At first I did not follow. I did not want to. I wanted to remain in the dark loneliness, but you kept calling until I could not refuse you any longer.”

“I do not know the name of the flower.” Immediately I wish for a third hand to smack my useless brains out. My rudeness does not seem to have any effect on Caith as he bestows a smile on me.

Caith’s presence is constant, like my second pulse, but today the beats are galloping unsteadily. I smile, having no need to be any different than I really am in his constant presence. Both the princess, and the hardened healer are comfortable when he is near. Caith does not judge me, whether I am saying something intelligent or being a brainless blunderer. With him I can just be.

“You won’t. It is very rare. I have seen only one in all my travels. I made this one in its likeness,” his voice calls me back from my thoughts.

“It is beautiful.”

He takes my hands and gently places the flower in them. Folding my fingers close, it ui as if his fingertips are touching my heart.

His blue eyes have a golden crown in them, in which, I seem to be seeing us dancing together.

“Caith?”

Caith lets go of my hand too quickly - as if being burned by coals. Turning around, he walks to the door. His hand hovers above the door handle and then seems to grasp it meekly for an infinite moment. When he finally turns around, his eyes are filled with fire. His purposeful strides seem to take him an eternity to arrive in front of me. When he is so near that I can feel his breath on my face, he stops.

His hesitation lasts only a moment before he cups my face. When his lips meet my brow, my heart feels as if it has stopped beating altogether.

After his lips brushed my forehead, he looks down into my eyes. There is nothing else, other than this infinite dance in our eyes, that exist in that moment. His palms are soft and warm against my cheeks; his fingertips, a caressing whisper on my temples.

When he finally finds the words he desires, his voice is husky and seductively confident. “Aebbé, I am going to kiss you. If you have any objections, you have only one moment to voice them. After that, there will be no going back - none at all for either of us.”

His eyes lighten up and darken at the same time, becoming the brightest blue I have seen in life. As they search mine, they are filled with unspoken questions and unvoiced answers.

Instead of objection, for I have none at all, I grant permission by placing my hands on his. Tiny sparks seem to travel through both of us as our hands connect.

The corners of his mouth quirk up in the instant before our lips meet. His soft lips are on mine for but a fleeting moment, yet it becomes all the eternity that I will ever need.

As he withdraws his lips, the certain whisper echoes through me: My heart is Caith’s; and his mine. Our dance has just begun.

He kisses my brow again, and then rests his forehead against mine. “I have to go, dearest Sun's shine, but I will see you tomorrow.”

After he leaves, the magical moment is immortalised as I replay it over and over again; his kisses still lingering on my skin.

My face lights up at the sound of another knock on my door. Caith has come back.

“Let Caith in.”

My face falls when my golden-haired charmer does not enter.