DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything originally from Tolkien.
SUMMARY: (Set years after the War of the Ring.) Through their own adventures, trials and glories the children of legends will come to find their place in history and discover themselves relying on the strength of their families, friends and the strength within each other and within their own self.
NOTE: These first couple of chapters is most likely going to be like introductions. Promise though, there is a plot to the story. Sorry if I come to develop it slowly, but bear with me. Thanks for reading! And constructive criticism is always welcome, as well as reviews. Thanks!
CHILDREN OF MIDDLE EARTH: 1
The bright sun shone on the green field, reflecting its light off the blades as if to help the grass shine. The sky was clear, and the wind blew gently enough that if brushed against your skin it would feel as if you were floating. The day had not yet come to high noon; still lingering was the presence of the morning air, and yet the sun still seemed to shine brighter than ever. It was days like this that Arodiel loved, for she remembered how her mother used to take her out and walk with her, hand in hand on days such as this. But she no longer needed her mother to guide her. She had grown to become a maiden, though she dreaded it. Her skin had become fair to contrast the depth of her eyes, her lips full and naturally pink and her dark hair had grown to flow and sway with the movement of her body. Despite her complimentary features, she didn't consider herself to be a natural beauty. Arodiel would compare herself to her mother, and automatically give her mother the connotations of beauty, and since she had few resemblances to her mother, she concluded the obvious.
As she walked through the field, she stretched out her hands, closed her eyes and lifted her head to the sky, keeping idle to feel the wind more intensely than it was allowing. Her thoughts were with her brother, Anárion, though she tried to convince herself she was rid of thought at that particular moment.
Anárion was only a year younger than she, already a man, yet she still worried about her younger sibling. He was training and attempting to excel his skill with the sword so he could serve Gondor to his fullest extent. Often people have questioned their siblingry, as they were opposite with almost every feature. Anárion was fair- haired, with a tall, lean build as opposed to Arodiel's curved one. His complexion wasn't dark, but it wasn't fair either. Probably the only feature they shared was their brown eyes, and the depth that lay within them.
As Arodiel lowered her arms, she felt a hand lay on her shoulder. She lightly gasped, and turned around while smacking the hand away from her as if in one fluid motion. When she realized whom it was however her face lightened and she relaxed a little.
"What are you doing here?"
"Aragorn had some business with your father, so I thought I might join him on the visit to Ithilian, to give him some familiar company."
"When are you going to stop chasing me?"
"Who said I was chasing you? You seem to be a bit full of yourself, don't you think?"
"Sorry. Then why are you here?"
"To speak with you."
Arodiel rolled her eyes and began to walk away, but she was followed, to her annoyance. In truth, the young friend was no annoyance, but within her own heart she felt the need to put up a defense to any person who dared to become close to her. Laurelas was one such person.
".Arodiel wait, not that kind of speak to you, but I have a message for you."
"From?"
"Your brother. He'd like you to come back with us, to pay him a visit."
"That's it?"
"Yes."
"Alright, and you're riding tomorrow?"
"No, two days." he smiled.
She slowly smiled, as if only to toy with his own happiness. "You, here for two days?" She sighed heavily and began to walk in the direction of the place, which she called home, and Laurelas was closely behind her.
The walk back was silent, but if thoughts were traded in for words then Arodiel's words would have been nonstop. She hadn't been to Minas Tirith for weeks, simply because she began to feel lazy, as if the emptiness that filled her soul crippled her from doing anything. She used to accompany her father whenever he'd go, which was often as he seemed to have endless business with the king. But in the past week she's neglected her visits, and instead has roamed the fields in quiet contemplation, as if rethinking her life.
As if awoken from a dream, she snapped back to reality when Laurelas held her hand to cause her to stop.
"What?" she slowly asked in honest confusion.
"What's going on? What, so heavy, is running through your mind?"
Laurelas could always seem to tell when something was going on with her. They had known each other all their lives, and been friends for nearly two decades, and a few years more. He could see right through her and she knew it. But her gentle gaze was enough compensation for an unsaid answer. Laurelas could feel the pain in her, but he did nothing, for he knew it was pain only she could rid.
In many cases, Laurelas always hoped that she would see the pain that had so broken his own heart. Since the first day they met, Laurelas knew. He knew he would wed her, he knew she would love him, and he knew he loved her. It was something he could not explain. As years passed, his own love for her strengthened as they grew to become young adults together. Laurelas knew Arodiel loved him too, but she would never admit it to him. Her actions, however, every so often spoke louder than her unspoken words, for through her eyes her own emotions were revealed. When she spoke to him, when he would come to visit her, the passion within herself was too great to hide from him, and they both knew it. But for whatever reason Arodiel never directly told Laurelas she loved him, and he went about as if he already knew, but in truth he was pained to not hear it from her, as if she wanted to hide it from everyone, including herself.
Many could not understand, however, why Arodiel would deny herself the allowance to act upon her emotions. Laurelas was handsome, and the opinions of almost every maiden in Gondor could support the theory. The son of Legolas Greenleaf and Laurelen the Beloved, he was almost identical in both stature and feature to his father, except that his eyes and hair took after his mother's, which meant they were brown, and instead of his hair being long and straight, it was only chin length when let down, which he rarely did, and curled a bit. No one else could seem to tempt him away from his one love, and many looked upon the case with eyes of doubt and thoughts of folly.
"Nothing." she finally replied, as she began to continue her stride home. Laurelas didn't press the matter, for he knew he would find out somehow, now or later.
"So, excited to see your brother? It has been a week or so."
"A little. It is my extended family that I most ache to see, though. I've began to neglect them."
"They noticed. But they figured you needed some time to yourself, there must have been no other reason."
"Yes, they're right."
The conversation was unanimously ended, as they reached the great hall of the city, and entered only to receive a warm welcome from the Lady of the house.
"Milady," Laurelas greeted, as he humbly bowed.
"Laurelas, you are tired no doubt, come eat and rest, I insist."
He inclined, and was lead to dine by a young woman of the help.
The Lady turned to her daughter, and gave her a warm smile.
"And where have you been all morning?"
"You know, out, wandering so."
"So you ride to Minas Tirith with our guests?"
"Yes, two days."
"Yes, well, come for I wish to speak with you a little."
"Alright mother."
Arodiel walked, with her mother's arm entwined within her own, following the lead of her mother, down the hall to a chamber where they could speak in private, just Eowyn and her daughter Arodiel.
Boring? Yeah I know, but bear with me. This is my first time writing a LOTR fic, so yeah. Constructive criticism is very welcome. I have so many ideas, but my approach to them isn't always the greatest. For this chapter though, if it seems like I don't really reveal much, well it's because I don't really want to. I want to sort of develop the characters later, but still give you a little sense of who they are in general. If my approach didn't seem that way, then please help me out as to how I can fix that. Hopefully I'll have better chapters coming. Thanks for reading!
SUMMARY: (Set years after the War of the Ring.) Through their own adventures, trials and glories the children of legends will come to find their place in history and discover themselves relying on the strength of their families, friends and the strength within each other and within their own self.
NOTE: These first couple of chapters is most likely going to be like introductions. Promise though, there is a plot to the story. Sorry if I come to develop it slowly, but bear with me. Thanks for reading! And constructive criticism is always welcome, as well as reviews. Thanks!
CHILDREN OF MIDDLE EARTH: 1
The bright sun shone on the green field, reflecting its light off the blades as if to help the grass shine. The sky was clear, and the wind blew gently enough that if brushed against your skin it would feel as if you were floating. The day had not yet come to high noon; still lingering was the presence of the morning air, and yet the sun still seemed to shine brighter than ever. It was days like this that Arodiel loved, for she remembered how her mother used to take her out and walk with her, hand in hand on days such as this. But she no longer needed her mother to guide her. She had grown to become a maiden, though she dreaded it. Her skin had become fair to contrast the depth of her eyes, her lips full and naturally pink and her dark hair had grown to flow and sway with the movement of her body. Despite her complimentary features, she didn't consider herself to be a natural beauty. Arodiel would compare herself to her mother, and automatically give her mother the connotations of beauty, and since she had few resemblances to her mother, she concluded the obvious.
As she walked through the field, she stretched out her hands, closed her eyes and lifted her head to the sky, keeping idle to feel the wind more intensely than it was allowing. Her thoughts were with her brother, Anárion, though she tried to convince herself she was rid of thought at that particular moment.
Anárion was only a year younger than she, already a man, yet she still worried about her younger sibling. He was training and attempting to excel his skill with the sword so he could serve Gondor to his fullest extent. Often people have questioned their siblingry, as they were opposite with almost every feature. Anárion was fair- haired, with a tall, lean build as opposed to Arodiel's curved one. His complexion wasn't dark, but it wasn't fair either. Probably the only feature they shared was their brown eyes, and the depth that lay within them.
As Arodiel lowered her arms, she felt a hand lay on her shoulder. She lightly gasped, and turned around while smacking the hand away from her as if in one fluid motion. When she realized whom it was however her face lightened and she relaxed a little.
"What are you doing here?"
"Aragorn had some business with your father, so I thought I might join him on the visit to Ithilian, to give him some familiar company."
"When are you going to stop chasing me?"
"Who said I was chasing you? You seem to be a bit full of yourself, don't you think?"
"Sorry. Then why are you here?"
"To speak with you."
Arodiel rolled her eyes and began to walk away, but she was followed, to her annoyance. In truth, the young friend was no annoyance, but within her own heart she felt the need to put up a defense to any person who dared to become close to her. Laurelas was one such person.
".Arodiel wait, not that kind of speak to you, but I have a message for you."
"From?"
"Your brother. He'd like you to come back with us, to pay him a visit."
"That's it?"
"Yes."
"Alright, and you're riding tomorrow?"
"No, two days." he smiled.
She slowly smiled, as if only to toy with his own happiness. "You, here for two days?" She sighed heavily and began to walk in the direction of the place, which she called home, and Laurelas was closely behind her.
The walk back was silent, but if thoughts were traded in for words then Arodiel's words would have been nonstop. She hadn't been to Minas Tirith for weeks, simply because she began to feel lazy, as if the emptiness that filled her soul crippled her from doing anything. She used to accompany her father whenever he'd go, which was often as he seemed to have endless business with the king. But in the past week she's neglected her visits, and instead has roamed the fields in quiet contemplation, as if rethinking her life.
As if awoken from a dream, she snapped back to reality when Laurelas held her hand to cause her to stop.
"What?" she slowly asked in honest confusion.
"What's going on? What, so heavy, is running through your mind?"
Laurelas could always seem to tell when something was going on with her. They had known each other all their lives, and been friends for nearly two decades, and a few years more. He could see right through her and she knew it. But her gentle gaze was enough compensation for an unsaid answer. Laurelas could feel the pain in her, but he did nothing, for he knew it was pain only she could rid.
In many cases, Laurelas always hoped that she would see the pain that had so broken his own heart. Since the first day they met, Laurelas knew. He knew he would wed her, he knew she would love him, and he knew he loved her. It was something he could not explain. As years passed, his own love for her strengthened as they grew to become young adults together. Laurelas knew Arodiel loved him too, but she would never admit it to him. Her actions, however, every so often spoke louder than her unspoken words, for through her eyes her own emotions were revealed. When she spoke to him, when he would come to visit her, the passion within herself was too great to hide from him, and they both knew it. But for whatever reason Arodiel never directly told Laurelas she loved him, and he went about as if he already knew, but in truth he was pained to not hear it from her, as if she wanted to hide it from everyone, including herself.
Many could not understand, however, why Arodiel would deny herself the allowance to act upon her emotions. Laurelas was handsome, and the opinions of almost every maiden in Gondor could support the theory. The son of Legolas Greenleaf and Laurelen the Beloved, he was almost identical in both stature and feature to his father, except that his eyes and hair took after his mother's, which meant they were brown, and instead of his hair being long and straight, it was only chin length when let down, which he rarely did, and curled a bit. No one else could seem to tempt him away from his one love, and many looked upon the case with eyes of doubt and thoughts of folly.
"Nothing." she finally replied, as she began to continue her stride home. Laurelas didn't press the matter, for he knew he would find out somehow, now or later.
"So, excited to see your brother? It has been a week or so."
"A little. It is my extended family that I most ache to see, though. I've began to neglect them."
"They noticed. But they figured you needed some time to yourself, there must have been no other reason."
"Yes, they're right."
The conversation was unanimously ended, as they reached the great hall of the city, and entered only to receive a warm welcome from the Lady of the house.
"Milady," Laurelas greeted, as he humbly bowed.
"Laurelas, you are tired no doubt, come eat and rest, I insist."
He inclined, and was lead to dine by a young woman of the help.
The Lady turned to her daughter, and gave her a warm smile.
"And where have you been all morning?"
"You know, out, wandering so."
"So you ride to Minas Tirith with our guests?"
"Yes, two days."
"Yes, well, come for I wish to speak with you a little."
"Alright mother."
Arodiel walked, with her mother's arm entwined within her own, following the lead of her mother, down the hall to a chamber where they could speak in private, just Eowyn and her daughter Arodiel.
Boring? Yeah I know, but bear with me. This is my first time writing a LOTR fic, so yeah. Constructive criticism is very welcome. I have so many ideas, but my approach to them isn't always the greatest. For this chapter though, if it seems like I don't really reveal much, well it's because I don't really want to. I want to sort of develop the characters later, but still give you a little sense of who they are in general. If my approach didn't seem that way, then please help me out as to how I can fix that. Hopefully I'll have better chapters coming. Thanks for reading!
