RATING: PG-13
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily (emi_kins@yahoo.com)
***A/N***Okay, I'm posting this as I write (instead of waiting until it is finished), so the quality might not be quite as good as the others. But I hope that you enjoy it!
1.
"Under the starlight before the sun and moon came to be," began Lord Elrond, his blue eyes glinting in the soothing glow cast from the Sword in his hand, "the Elves were born to Middle Earth and fell at once into warfare against Darkness. None know how long we strove on our own before the Valar discovered us and, desiring to protect us, summoned us away to Valinor. Not all answered the call, and those of us who chose to stay behind were left a weapon with which to protect ourselves."
All who sat in the circle of Elves cast their gazes upon the stone table before them. Upon it, Elrond laid the Sword wrought by Aule himself to be given to the Elves. Calmakil.
"Calmakil," stated the Elven Lord, gesturing toward the elaborately carved blade in its jeweled scabbard. "The Sword of Light was borne first by Imlanion who passed it to Nefulmair. Nefulmair passed the Sword to Aredolas who perished in battle having named no one to carry it should he fall. In those days the Sword spoke freely for all to hear, and it chose as its bearer Andborond. Since that day, Calmakil has always selected a new bearer for itself. After Andborond, Calmakil chose Gayalambir, then finally Durion who was my grandson and heir to the throne of Rivendell." Elrond paused for a moment. "Prince Durion was slain by Wargs as he traveled over the Misty Mountains. One hundred years have passed since that terrible day, and now the time has come for a new bearer to be named."
Calmakil seemed to brighten in response, inspiring awe in those who had gathered.
The finest Elven warriors of Middle Earth had traveled to be present at the Council of the Sword. Elrond had not summoned them. Rather, they had begun to arrive at the last new moon saying they had dreamed the sword was calling them to Rivendell. Now, in the darkness of another new-moon night, they had gathered in the glowing light of Calmakil, their fair faces bowed in reverence. Who would be chosen to bear the Sword? Who would be given the title and responsibilities of Protector of the Elves? It was an honor desired by all who were courageous and pure of heart, perilous though it was.
Among them sat one Elven female. Princess Elenath was Elrond's granddaughter and a newly appointed warrior, having just left the tutelage of her Uncle Thorondil. She was Durion's sister and had retrieved the Sword when her brother fell to the Wargs, and it was for that reason only that she was present at the Council. She had earned a place of honor.
Elenath fit in quite well among the warriors, for she did not dress as a Princess. She wore a long tunic over leggings and light boots upon her feet. Her raven hair was pulled back on top in the fashion of Rivendell's Royal Guard, the rest of it hanging in loose ringlets down her back. The only hints of her royal standing were the golden circlet upon her head and the fact that she had her grandfather's eyes. Eyes that seemed to take in everything around her all at once. Eyes that caught those of Legolas, the Prince of Mirkwood, who sat across the circle from her.
Elenath blushed and looked away quickly, recalling the way he had watched her all the previous day. Seeing her alone upon a bridge overlooking one of the many burbling streams of Rivendell, he had approached her boldly and bowed, taking both of her hands in his own. "My Lady," he'd said, "Tell me that you are Lady Merethiel and I shall be the happiest Elf in all of Middle Earth! For your beauty shines bright and I feel in my heart that a match between us would be a joyful one."
"I am sorry," she had replied, taken aback by the prince's forward manner. "I am Princess Elenath. Lady Merethiel is my cousin and dear friend. And what is this talk of matches?"
Legolas' countenance had fallen slightly. "Alas! I am betrothed to Lady Merethiel and had hoped for a glance before I return to Mirkwood. But my heart shall be glad if she is even half as lovely as you, Princess." Then he had pressed his lips gently to the back of her hand before retreating to her grandfather's house, leaving her stunned upon the bridge.
Betrothed? Merethiel? Elenath's mind was spinning again as she recalled the conversation. She had not had time to talk with her cousin about this yet and wondered why Merethiel would not have told her that she was to be married, as Legolas said, in one year's time. Elenath would have to find her cousin after the Council was concluded and tell her how lucky she was, for the Prince of Mirkwood seemed both handsome and kind. He would make a perfect match for the sweet, prim, and proper Merethiel.
The princess' thoughts came to a halt as the Sword brightened once again.
"We shall wait in silence until Calmakil speaks," said Elrond at last. "Whoever is chosen shall come forth and take up the Sword."
*My brother's Sword*, she thought to herself, *The only thing I have that reminds me of him…and soon it will be taken away.*
They waited for what seemed like many hours before the sound of a metallic whisper pierced the night. Even with her keen Elven ears, she could not quite hear what it said; nor could anyone else. They all leaned forward, striving to listen. Then finally, one word was clear.
The Sword whispered, "Elenath."
Nobody moved; not even the princess. Surely there was a mistake. Surely she had heard wrong. She looked around herself in confusion.
"Elenath, Princess of Rivendell" it said again, quite clearly this time.
A pointed look from her grandfather prompted her to stand and walk uncertainly toward the Sword, but she stopped when she noticed the varying degrees of outrage, confusion, and anger that showed on the Elves' faces. "Forgive me Grandfather, but who am I to bear the Sword?" she asked shakily.
"You are the chosen one," he replied. "Now take your place, Child, as Protector of the Elves."
"She has bewitched it!" exclaimed Dimnarion, one of the Elves from Mirkwood. "It is ludicrous! A female? It cannot be!"
There were echoes of agreement throughout the group as Elenath stood still, more confused than she had ever been.
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily (emi_kins@yahoo.com)
***A/N***Okay, I'm posting this as I write (instead of waiting until it is finished), so the quality might not be quite as good as the others. But I hope that you enjoy it!
1.
"Under the starlight before the sun and moon came to be," began Lord Elrond, his blue eyes glinting in the soothing glow cast from the Sword in his hand, "the Elves were born to Middle Earth and fell at once into warfare against Darkness. None know how long we strove on our own before the Valar discovered us and, desiring to protect us, summoned us away to Valinor. Not all answered the call, and those of us who chose to stay behind were left a weapon with which to protect ourselves."
All who sat in the circle of Elves cast their gazes upon the stone table before them. Upon it, Elrond laid the Sword wrought by Aule himself to be given to the Elves. Calmakil.
"Calmakil," stated the Elven Lord, gesturing toward the elaborately carved blade in its jeweled scabbard. "The Sword of Light was borne first by Imlanion who passed it to Nefulmair. Nefulmair passed the Sword to Aredolas who perished in battle having named no one to carry it should he fall. In those days the Sword spoke freely for all to hear, and it chose as its bearer Andborond. Since that day, Calmakil has always selected a new bearer for itself. After Andborond, Calmakil chose Gayalambir, then finally Durion who was my grandson and heir to the throne of Rivendell." Elrond paused for a moment. "Prince Durion was slain by Wargs as he traveled over the Misty Mountains. One hundred years have passed since that terrible day, and now the time has come for a new bearer to be named."
Calmakil seemed to brighten in response, inspiring awe in those who had gathered.
The finest Elven warriors of Middle Earth had traveled to be present at the Council of the Sword. Elrond had not summoned them. Rather, they had begun to arrive at the last new moon saying they had dreamed the sword was calling them to Rivendell. Now, in the darkness of another new-moon night, they had gathered in the glowing light of Calmakil, their fair faces bowed in reverence. Who would be chosen to bear the Sword? Who would be given the title and responsibilities of Protector of the Elves? It was an honor desired by all who were courageous and pure of heart, perilous though it was.
Among them sat one Elven female. Princess Elenath was Elrond's granddaughter and a newly appointed warrior, having just left the tutelage of her Uncle Thorondil. She was Durion's sister and had retrieved the Sword when her brother fell to the Wargs, and it was for that reason only that she was present at the Council. She had earned a place of honor.
Elenath fit in quite well among the warriors, for she did not dress as a Princess. She wore a long tunic over leggings and light boots upon her feet. Her raven hair was pulled back on top in the fashion of Rivendell's Royal Guard, the rest of it hanging in loose ringlets down her back. The only hints of her royal standing were the golden circlet upon her head and the fact that she had her grandfather's eyes. Eyes that seemed to take in everything around her all at once. Eyes that caught those of Legolas, the Prince of Mirkwood, who sat across the circle from her.
Elenath blushed and looked away quickly, recalling the way he had watched her all the previous day. Seeing her alone upon a bridge overlooking one of the many burbling streams of Rivendell, he had approached her boldly and bowed, taking both of her hands in his own. "My Lady," he'd said, "Tell me that you are Lady Merethiel and I shall be the happiest Elf in all of Middle Earth! For your beauty shines bright and I feel in my heart that a match between us would be a joyful one."
"I am sorry," she had replied, taken aback by the prince's forward manner. "I am Princess Elenath. Lady Merethiel is my cousin and dear friend. And what is this talk of matches?"
Legolas' countenance had fallen slightly. "Alas! I am betrothed to Lady Merethiel and had hoped for a glance before I return to Mirkwood. But my heart shall be glad if she is even half as lovely as you, Princess." Then he had pressed his lips gently to the back of her hand before retreating to her grandfather's house, leaving her stunned upon the bridge.
Betrothed? Merethiel? Elenath's mind was spinning again as she recalled the conversation. She had not had time to talk with her cousin about this yet and wondered why Merethiel would not have told her that she was to be married, as Legolas said, in one year's time. Elenath would have to find her cousin after the Council was concluded and tell her how lucky she was, for the Prince of Mirkwood seemed both handsome and kind. He would make a perfect match for the sweet, prim, and proper Merethiel.
The princess' thoughts came to a halt as the Sword brightened once again.
"We shall wait in silence until Calmakil speaks," said Elrond at last. "Whoever is chosen shall come forth and take up the Sword."
*My brother's Sword*, she thought to herself, *The only thing I have that reminds me of him…and soon it will be taken away.*
They waited for what seemed like many hours before the sound of a metallic whisper pierced the night. Even with her keen Elven ears, she could not quite hear what it said; nor could anyone else. They all leaned forward, striving to listen. Then finally, one word was clear.
The Sword whispered, "Elenath."
Nobody moved; not even the princess. Surely there was a mistake. Surely she had heard wrong. She looked around herself in confusion.
"Elenath, Princess of Rivendell" it said again, quite clearly this time.
A pointed look from her grandfather prompted her to stand and walk uncertainly toward the Sword, but she stopped when she noticed the varying degrees of outrage, confusion, and anger that showed on the Elves' faces. "Forgive me Grandfather, but who am I to bear the Sword?" she asked shakily.
"You are the chosen one," he replied. "Now take your place, Child, as Protector of the Elves."
"She has bewitched it!" exclaimed Dimnarion, one of the Elves from Mirkwood. "It is ludicrous! A female? It cannot be!"
There were echoes of agreement throughout the group as Elenath stood still, more confused than she had ever been.