The Bottom Shelf Review

The accounts that lie within this passage are those of the survivors of the journey east and of their quest to reclaim the once great elven kingdom of Duridiel.

It was on the last day of Silaras, that the Company of Nordthand Tathren walked the ruins of Duridiel. Much regaling and nostalgic memories were shared on that day. As the moon finally rose the company sought out the cyclops, Gondthra, that slept in their stolen halls.

In was sent the hired ranger, Arbendor Pengron, to scout and blind the beast, for all know that a cyclops weakness is its eye. The rangers’ aim had stayed true and Gondthra was blinded, it was then the rest of the Company attacked.

Blinded and caught in an ambush, the cyclops was stunned. Regaining his wits, he quickly retaliated, swinging giant fists in the direction of his attackers. Stumbling about, he eventually brandished a club, leaving the Company on the ground to scatter.

Turning the battle into one of long-distance weaponry, what elves that could, attempted to pierce his skin, but failed. It was then that a shout rang out in the hall. Drawing the attention of everyone in the room, did Nordthand leap onto the cyclopes’ head and stab Gondthra through what was left of his eye, piercing through the skull.

It was as the body started to fall that the elven king lost his balance and fell into one of the multiple piles of remains that lay scattered around the hall.

Zero casualties were lost.

Many injuries were sustained.

Nordthand finished reading the page aloud, handing the journal back to the half-elf sitting across from him.

“It is very good; there’s a scribe in you after all.” he complimented, taking a sip of the wine in front of him, noting the surrounding dining hall to be empty.

“Thank you.” a pause, “Are your duties finding you well?”

A sigh, “I suppose. It has been jarring and monotonous, but it has gotten better over these past few months, what with elves returning to the kingdom.”

“That’s good, you have seemed happy, less troubled.” a smile is given.

Nordthands heart skips a beat, realizing Arbendor had noticed.

“Yes. It feels as if a weight has been lifted, now that my evenings are free to spend with my friends and family.” he said fondly smiling back.

“It’s amazing the affect a person’s presence can have on one’s day.” Arbendor says, looking out the window.

Nordthand took the moment to let his eyes trace the half-elf’s features, noting how he glowed in the moonlight.

“It appears to have gotten pretty late.” Arbendor said turning to find the kings gaze already upon him.

“Indeed.” Nordthand said, gazing back as a silence sets upon them, waiting for whomever to break it.

It is Arbendor that breaks the gaze, gathering his things and standing up.

“Goodnight, Nordthand.”

“Goodnight, Arbendor.” the elf watches the other leave and realizes it was times like these that he would trade all the wealth in Duridiel for Arbendor to look back and return his affections.

~

 Nordthand had not realized anybody else had noticed the distance he put between himself and the Company until Daldra had cornered him in his chambers.

“What are you brooding about this time?” Daldra asked sarcastically, entering the room and coming to stand in front of the oaken desk the king was sitting behind.

“I have no idea what you speak of.” a pause of his quill.

“Really. So you haven’t been avoiding everybody and your duties by holing up in your chambers with the excuse of illness?”

“I have not, I truly have been feeling ill as of late.” a glance to the side, not yet looking at his friend.

“Alnanu, Nordthand, you know I know when you’re lying.” the elf slammed his hand on the desk.

“I do not wish to spe-”

“Save it. I’ve followed you through battles and cyclops-stench. I’ve seen you at your lowest and sickest, but this, this is not a physical illness that rests upon you now.” he said, gaze knowing.

A silence settles as Nordthand finally meets Daldras gaze. Sunken, empty eyes and ashen skin is the sight that meets Daldra’s, the effect of the isolation and ‘illness’ having hit Nordthand worse than the Company thought.

“I do not know how to proceed Daldra.” whispers Nordthand, voice so quiet it was barely heard.

“Well it’s pretty simple if you ask me, just tell him.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“But it is. If you just talk to him.”

“I cannot.”

“You can.”

“I will not.”

“Well, why not.”

“I’m trapped, can’t you see.” he said, abruptly standing up, walking over and putting a hand up to the wall.

“Trapped between my heart and his happiness like ore hidden under stone.”

Daldra, rolling his eyes, stayed resting against the desk, facing Nordthand as he started pacing the chamber.

“You’re right. This is an illness rooted in my own feelings. I love him, Daldra, but I can’t ask him to forsake his own happiness by asking him to stay in Duridiel.” he said, rubbing a hand over his eyes.

“Arbendor’s life is one of Rochost. He is a Half-elf, and Duridiel is no place for village folk. I’ve seen him since he was asked of his impending return to Rochost and, and I could not…” Nordthand stopped, choking up at the memory.

“Could not what?” Daldra pushed.

“You’ve seen him, haven’t you? He’s been absolutely miserable since he was reminded of his home!” he exclaimed.

“I couldn’t bear seeing him like that every day if I asked him to stay here with me. I will not be the cause of his suffering again, not after how I treated him before.”

“Have you ever considered another reason to be the cause of his unhappiness?”

“What other reason could there be?” Nordthand paused his pacing, turning to face Daldra with a tired look.

“You, Nordthand.” Daldra started. “You stopped interacting with him after that meeting. You distanced yourself from the others. Did you ever stop to think that this isolation was hurting him as much as it’s hurting you.”

“I didn’t, that’s not. He wouldn’t want my offer after the things I put him through. I tried to throw him from the cliffs for Eru’s sake.” he said, throwing his hands up exasperatedly.

“But even after that he fought his way through orcs, goblins, and cyclopses to save you and I. I won’t ever forget the sight of him when we found you in that pile with a sword sticking through you.”

“It sounded as if his soul cracked in two, Nordthand. I had to pull him off your body so the healers could start helping you. He passed out in my arms from how much he was crying.” the elf lamented, shifting his weight.

“I didn’t know. How could I have known that!” Nordthand frustratedly exclaimed.

“By talking to him, or anybody for that matter. Not locking yourself in your room for days on end like a petulant elfling.” Daldra said before walking up to Nordthand, resting a hand on his shoulder.

“Just speak with him.” he said with a quick squeeze, walking over to the door.

Nordthand watched the elf leave before calling out, “Annad.”

Daldra paused, halfway through the door, looking back over his shoulder, “You would do it for me.” A smirk grew on his face, mischief dancing in his eyes “I better see your face at dinner, you frail-hearted ninny, or I’ll send Hanar and Hawn to drag you down.”

With that Daldra left Nordthand standing in the middle of his chambers, stunned at the jumbled thoughts left in the wake of their conversation.

~

It had been two weeks since Nordthand had his conversation with Daldra. Two weeks since he made the decision to talk to Arbendor concerning his feelings. It had taken the elf days to muster up the courage and plan to engage in said conversation, but with every chance came an interruption.

At first it was small things like Hanar and Hawn fighting right before he went to approach or Arbendor being pulled away by another Company member, but then it turned into bigger matters intruding. Royal responsibilities that were disregarded in his neglect slowly crept up and pounced on Nordthand when he wasn’t looking.

Endless waves of ‘Sire these trade agreements need signed’ or ‘Don’t forget you need to look over these compromises, my liege’ piled around Nordthand till he felt like he was drowning. He felt as if he was being pulled in all directions, with his brain straining one way and his heart shouting at him to talk to Arbendor. It was during one of these days that Nordthand was reminded of the weekly advisory meeting he needed to attend.

It was as he arrived, he realized he was the first one at the meeting. Walking his way through the hall and to the chair at the head of the table, Nordthand sat down and rested his head in his hands, taking a moment to release the stress he held from the past few days.

“Asking for help isn’t a bad thing, you know.”

Nordthand jumped, not having heard the elf to his left enter the room. He looked over at Daldra with tired eyes and a sigh.

“It’s my responsibility as king t-”

“to handle things myself.” Daldra interrupts. “Blah, blah, blah, shut it. It is not the duty of a leader to take all the responsibilities, but delegate them in the matter best for everybody.”

“And here I thought it was your brother who was the diplomat.” Nordthand chides, swiping his hand down his face before smirking over at the other elf.

“Aye, that he is, but you pick up a thing or two.” Daldra said, finally sitting down.

“Have you talked to Arbendor yet?”

“I haven-” Nordthand starts, interrupted as others of the meeting start entering the hall.

After a few minutes of greetings and niceties, the group sat down to commence the meeting.

“It is with great honor that I ca-” Nordthand begins, interrupted by an elf farther down the table.

“We are missing an elf, where’s Master Baldra?”

“And Master Arbendor?” another questions.

It was then that Nordthand swept his eyes over the gathering, taking note that the two happened to be absent from the hall. His mind immediately went to the worst as his eyes met Daldra’s. Baldra he needn’t worry about, having lived in the halls before Gondthra, but Arbendor hadn’t. His mind starts playing pictures of the half-elf falling from the paths or taking too many turns and getting lost within the kingdom.

It was just as he was about to call for the guards that the doors to the hall flew open and blazing brown eyes met worried blue.

“Nordthand Tathren.” exclaimed the voice, “We need to talk.” and all eyes fell on him.

~

Arbendor Pengron had never been one to worry over interests’ others had in him. He was perfectly content to hide in the shadows and be forgotten, left to his quiet farmstead and his books in Rochost. Well, that was before he met Nordthand Tathren. Before Nordthand, Arbendor could not give a single care as to who liked him or not, but after meeting the elven king, things changed for the half-elf.

At first it was simply proving to the elf that he was useful and not a burden to the Company. It then developed into the forging of a friendship, and eventually, somewhere along the way, the half-elf fell in love with the elf. After various near-death experiences, betrayals, heartbreaks, and victories, Arbendor and the elves had managed to complete their quest and reclaim the kingdom.

It was not long after that Arbendor was asked the question of, “When will you be returning to Rochost, laddie?” He knew it had been coming, but he hadn’t been prepared for the pain and sadness to sweep over him at the thought of leaving his friends and Nordthand. They had been his home for the past year, and he was perfectly content with staying in Duridiel for the rest of his days. It was after that meeting the king started avoiding Arbendor, and eventually the others for weeks on end.

Arbendor knew it was something to do with him, for he was the first one to be avoided, but he could not for all the lives in the world puzzle out why. Had he said something, done something during one of their after-dinner talks. Did Nordthand actually think he was useless now that the quest was over. Did he want Arbendor to leave and go back to Rochost? It was these thoughts that made Arbendor more miserable with each day of Nordthand’s isolation. The feelings within his heart filling him with self-deprecating thoughts and pining for the one that does not want him.

It was after a few weeks of the king’s hiding that Nordthand once again showed his face at dinner. Arbendor had looked up for the first time in weeks with a spark of hope in his eyes, only to be ignored for the next two weeks. His pain and pining had shifted to anger and indignation at seeing the elf interact with everyone but him. What made him so unworthy of Nordthand’s company? Was it his race, his height, his age. None of this was a problem before, so why is it now?

It was during one of these mind rants that Baldra found Arbendor on his way to the advisory meeting.

“Ah, Arbendor, I was just on my way to the meeting… are you feeling alright, laddie?” Baldra asked as he got closer to the half-elf.

“Yes, yes.” he said, before frustrated tears started welling in his eyes. “Actually no, I’m not.”

“There, there. It will be alright, now tell me, what’s the problem and we’ll see if I have an answer.” the older elf stated, moving the two over to a ledge to sit on.

“It’s just, oh this is so stupid, it’s just, Nordthand has been avoiding me, and I don’t know why. He doesn’t avoid you or others in the Company, just me, and it’s been like that for quite some time, and if he wants me to leave then I’ll leave but I don’t want to leave-”

“Woah now, slow down laddie, don’t work yourself into a tizzy.” Baldra placated.

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” he said, wiping his tears with his sleeve. “It’s not fair to me to be treated like this Baldra, and I don’t know what to do.”

“I believe the solution is as easy as talking to him.”

“But how do I do that if he won’t acknowledge my existence?”

“Aye, Nordthand’s a stubborn one. Making him hear you can take a little work, and sometimes a well-placed corner to back him into, say a meeting.”

“What do I even say in that situation?” the Half-elf asked, wringing his hands.

“Ask for answers and remember to speak true to your feelings.” Baldra said with a wink.

“How do you know about that?” Arbendor looked at the elf wide eyed.

“Laddie, you two are as subtle as Gorndtha taking over Duridiel.” he laughed.

Arbendor stood up looking over at Baldra. “I suppose I have a meeting to disrupt.”

“That you do, that you do.” Baldra said standing to join Arbendor, starting the walk to the meeting hall.

“Oh and Arbendor,” the elf started as they reached the hall doors, meeting the half-elf’s gaze, “give him hell.” and with that Arbendor pushed open the doors.

~

Nordthand blinked, stunned as he watched the half-elf approach him.

“Master Pengron.” he greeted, masking his anxiousness with false courage “Yes, I believe we do.” waving his hand to direct Arbendor to one of the side halls.

Arbendor followed the king’s direction, entering the room, before turning to watch Nordthand close the door. Nordthand spun and an awkward silence fell over the room as their gazes met.

“Liste-.”

“I’m sor-.” Both going to speak at the same time.

Nordthand took a step further into the room, setting his crown on the table, “You go first, I insist.”

“Very well.” stated the half-elf, trying to keep his voice indifferent to mask his nerves.

“It has come to my attention that I am expected to return to Rochost soon.” he said, not noticing the elf’s hands stilling with the fiddling of the crown.

“With the quest to reclaim Duridiel complete I am found unneeded by those who have hired me.” with that the king’s gaze swiftly met his, Arbendor noticing the shock held within it.

“Arben-” Nordthand starts, taking a step towards the half-elf, distressed.

Arbendor holds his hand up, “Please let me finish.” Nordthand stays where he is, a dejected look on his face.

“I cannot, in good conscience, leave here without making the feelings of my heart known.” He glances at the floor.

“At the start of our journey, I gave no mind to what you thought of me, but over the course of the year I have found that changed. I fell for the stubborn elf king who lacks manners, tact, and no lengths of patience. I fell for the one elf who can barely stand to look at me now that he has no need for me.” a pause.

“I fell in love with you Nordthand Tathren, and I will not leave this kingdom if there is even a hope of you loving me back.” the half-elf sagged, all energy in keeping his composure lost to his rant.

It wasn’t till he felt the thumbs wiping across his cheeks that he even realized he was crying. It took him even longer to realize that Nordthand was standing in front of him, holding his face, looking down on him with such sorrow it hurt.

“Oh Arbendor. Apanaina.” he said, wiping another tear. “I’m so sorry, meleth, this is all my fault.”

“No-Nordthand, what are you talking about?” Arbendor questioned, grabbing the elf’s wrists and bringing them from his face.

Nordthand closed his eyes, turning his face down in shame, trying to stem the tears forming.

“Nordthand?” Arbendor reached up, forcing Nordthand’s gaze to meet his.

“I never- I never meant to make you feel this way.” Nordthand began.

“I ran away and hid like a coward because I thought you wanted to leave Duridiel. I hid from you in hopes that I could save us both from the torment of having to choose.” he said, a distressed look coming across his face.

“Choose what, Nordthand? I don’t understa-.”

“Rochost.” he exclaimed. “I didn’t want you to have to choose between your village and me. I didn’t want to force you to choose me and be miserable for the rest of your life.”

“I love you Arbendor Pengron. I don’t know when and there are thousands of reasons why, but if you stay with me here in Duri-.” before Nordthand could finish he is pulled into a soft kiss that lasts only a few seconds but is enough to get the point across.

Pulling back enough to gaze into the elf’s eyes, “I will always choose you Nordthand, always.”

“Always, methel, in this life and the next.”