Isildur's Heir
By: Mask of Twilight
Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me, except the ones with no names. ^_~ All of them are the mighty Tolkien's creations.
AN: This is still in the planning stages, so bare with me here. I just wanted some feedback, so make sure you R/R!
Chapter I
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Galraen ran, the rain pelting down over her hooded head and cloaked body, her arms shielding the small, and yet so important burden that she carried. Her limbs grew weary, her heart heavy, but still she ran on. She could not let anything happen to this bundle in her arms; this beautiful bundle, that was her child, her son.
The young woman stopped to catch her breath, leaning against a large tree. She could no longer hear the Orcs; they must have stopped following her. They had no idea what it was that she carried in her arms; if they had, then they would surely follow her, and not stop until both she and her child were dead.
But she had rested long enough, and she could take no chances of an enemy finding her. She couldn't stop long enough to think; long enough to let the grief sink in. She pulled back the blanket from her son's face and kissed him lightly on the forehead. His large, beautiful dark eyes were open. He looked at her questioningly, yet without fear. Galraen smiled sadly and continued on, not willing to slow down. She had to reach Imladris as soon as possible; she had to speak with Elrond Halfelven.
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Elrond Halfelven, Master of Rivendell, paced back and forth, his brow furrowed, his hands clasped behind his back. He did this more often as of late; he was more secluded than he used to be. When he did join the rest of the household, he was quiet, and seemed to be thoughtful, and disturbed about something, or perhaps many things.
Elrohir, one of Erond's two sons, watched his father from behind a sculptured stone pillar. His father's solitude was begginning to frighten him; well, not so much as that, but the thoughts his imagination lead him to think of what could be the source for Elrond's silence.
Just then Elrond stopped pacing, sighed, and gazed out the window, his piercing stare seeming to see something beyond the river, the trees, and the waterfalls that surrounded this secret elven haven. "What will come of all this...?" Elrohir heard him whisper softly, his arms gesturing towards the window. He then turned towards the pillar Elrohir was hiding behind, and smiled, slightly amused. "I know you're there, my son. You may come out."
Elrohir smiled sheepishly and stepped out of hiding, bowing his head. "I am sorry I spied on you, Father, it's just..." He looked up. "You've been so distant lately, Elladan and myself and been worried; along with everyone else here."
Elrond smiled slightly, yet there was a sadness in his eyes. "I'm afraid there is much to be worried about, Elrohir. As you know, Gandalf sought my council several weeks ago..." then, almost to himself, he said, "Actually, he did more councilling than I did..." Looking back up to his son, he continued, "Morbid news comes from the east, and from the realms of Mirkwood as well. It seems a shadow is coming..." He sighed. "But I will not speak of this now. I must think on it some more."
Elrohir nodded silently; it had been as he feared. Bowing slightly, he left the room, off to seek his brother. They had much to discuss.
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Gilraen stumbled down the path into the hidden valley of Rivendell, almost falling. Her son began to cry softly, and she shushed him, trying to calm him down. They were almost there. She continued on, but stopped as she heard some soft singing coming from somewhere nearby. To Gilraen, who was weary and grief-stricken, it sounded liken to the music of the Ainur, when the world was first created. The woman walked towards the sound, as if in a trance.
Through the trees, she saw several elves; beautiful beings, singing softly, the only accompianment being a small flute. At the sound, the babe in her arm's crying diminished. One of the elves, a male with long dark hair, looked up and saw her. At a wave of his hand, the others stopped their song, and stood up. The dark-haired one walked towards her slowly, and smiled softly. He said something in the elven tongue, but Gilraen just shook her head, indicating that she did not understand. Her husband had begun to teach her elvish, but she hadn't learned enough to carry on a conversation.
The elf smiled again, concern evident in his eyes. He then spoke in the language of Westernesse, the common tongue. "Welcome, fair maiden. You are in distress, tell us how we can help you."
"Thank you," she said shakily. "I am Gilraen of the Dunedain. Please, I would be most grateful if you would allow me to shelter here."
He nodded. "Yes, I am familiar with your name. Master Elrond knows your husband, am I correct?"
She nodded quickly, trying to stop the tears from coming. None had fallen as of yet; there would be time for mourning later. She had to get her son to safety first.
The elf smiled. "Come then, we will take you to the House of Elrond."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
As she stood before Elrond, the grief and loneliness overtook her. Tears streamed down her rose cheeks, falling one by one to the ground. Elrond stood silently by her, allowing her this moment. She looked so young and vulnerable standing there, clutching her newborn son to her breast, refusing to let go of him. Elrond thought of how young she really was; certainly too young to bear such a burden. She had married quite earlier than was custom for a woman of the Dunedain...but really, there was no other choice. And now that this tragedy had taken place...Yes, she had been wed just in time.
Eventually, her tears subsided, and she spoke, her voice still shaky. "Master Elrond...the Orcs...they killed him! My husband, A-"
Elrond held up a hand. "Nay, we'll not speak of it, not yet." He looked at the child in her arms. "There are many who would wish for such a child to perish, should they know who he really is." Gilraen looked up at him fearfully. "Do not worry," Elrond continued. "He shall be safe here. You and your son shall stay in Imladris as long as you wish. I feel your son will be very essential in the near future..." he said thoughtfully, walking slowly towards the window.
Gilraen nodded silently, looking at her child, who was asleep. He looked so peaceful resting in her arms. Who would ever wish to kill someone so innocent?
Elrond turned back to her. "We shall come him Estel, until the time comes when his true identity will be revealed."
Gilraen smiled. Estel...the elvish word, meaning 'hope.' Yes, they would stay in Rivendell, where her son would be kept safe from all enemies. She sighed...Safe, until his true identity was revealed.
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By: Mask of Twilight
Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me, except the ones with no names. ^_~ All of them are the mighty Tolkien's creations.
AN: This is still in the planning stages, so bare with me here. I just wanted some feedback, so make sure you R/R!
Chapter I
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Galraen ran, the rain pelting down over her hooded head and cloaked body, her arms shielding the small, and yet so important burden that she carried. Her limbs grew weary, her heart heavy, but still she ran on. She could not let anything happen to this bundle in her arms; this beautiful bundle, that was her child, her son.
The young woman stopped to catch her breath, leaning against a large tree. She could no longer hear the Orcs; they must have stopped following her. They had no idea what it was that she carried in her arms; if they had, then they would surely follow her, and not stop until both she and her child were dead.
But she had rested long enough, and she could take no chances of an enemy finding her. She couldn't stop long enough to think; long enough to let the grief sink in. She pulled back the blanket from her son's face and kissed him lightly on the forehead. His large, beautiful dark eyes were open. He looked at her questioningly, yet without fear. Galraen smiled sadly and continued on, not willing to slow down. She had to reach Imladris as soon as possible; she had to speak with Elrond Halfelven.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Elrond Halfelven, Master of Rivendell, paced back and forth, his brow furrowed, his hands clasped behind his back. He did this more often as of late; he was more secluded than he used to be. When he did join the rest of the household, he was quiet, and seemed to be thoughtful, and disturbed about something, or perhaps many things.
Elrohir, one of Erond's two sons, watched his father from behind a sculptured stone pillar. His father's solitude was begginning to frighten him; well, not so much as that, but the thoughts his imagination lead him to think of what could be the source for Elrond's silence.
Just then Elrond stopped pacing, sighed, and gazed out the window, his piercing stare seeming to see something beyond the river, the trees, and the waterfalls that surrounded this secret elven haven. "What will come of all this...?" Elrohir heard him whisper softly, his arms gesturing towards the window. He then turned towards the pillar Elrohir was hiding behind, and smiled, slightly amused. "I know you're there, my son. You may come out."
Elrohir smiled sheepishly and stepped out of hiding, bowing his head. "I am sorry I spied on you, Father, it's just..." He looked up. "You've been so distant lately, Elladan and myself and been worried; along with everyone else here."
Elrond smiled slightly, yet there was a sadness in his eyes. "I'm afraid there is much to be worried about, Elrohir. As you know, Gandalf sought my council several weeks ago..." then, almost to himself, he said, "Actually, he did more councilling than I did..." Looking back up to his son, he continued, "Morbid news comes from the east, and from the realms of Mirkwood as well. It seems a shadow is coming..." He sighed. "But I will not speak of this now. I must think on it some more."
Elrohir nodded silently; it had been as he feared. Bowing slightly, he left the room, off to seek his brother. They had much to discuss.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Gilraen stumbled down the path into the hidden valley of Rivendell, almost falling. Her son began to cry softly, and she shushed him, trying to calm him down. They were almost there. She continued on, but stopped as she heard some soft singing coming from somewhere nearby. To Gilraen, who was weary and grief-stricken, it sounded liken to the music of the Ainur, when the world was first created. The woman walked towards the sound, as if in a trance.
Through the trees, she saw several elves; beautiful beings, singing softly, the only accompianment being a small flute. At the sound, the babe in her arm's crying diminished. One of the elves, a male with long dark hair, looked up and saw her. At a wave of his hand, the others stopped their song, and stood up. The dark-haired one walked towards her slowly, and smiled softly. He said something in the elven tongue, but Gilraen just shook her head, indicating that she did not understand. Her husband had begun to teach her elvish, but she hadn't learned enough to carry on a conversation.
The elf smiled again, concern evident in his eyes. He then spoke in the language of Westernesse, the common tongue. "Welcome, fair maiden. You are in distress, tell us how we can help you."
"Thank you," she said shakily. "I am Gilraen of the Dunedain. Please, I would be most grateful if you would allow me to shelter here."
He nodded. "Yes, I am familiar with your name. Master Elrond knows your husband, am I correct?"
She nodded quickly, trying to stop the tears from coming. None had fallen as of yet; there would be time for mourning later. She had to get her son to safety first.
The elf smiled. "Come then, we will take you to the House of Elrond."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
As she stood before Elrond, the grief and loneliness overtook her. Tears streamed down her rose cheeks, falling one by one to the ground. Elrond stood silently by her, allowing her this moment. She looked so young and vulnerable standing there, clutching her newborn son to her breast, refusing to let go of him. Elrond thought of how young she really was; certainly too young to bear such a burden. She had married quite earlier than was custom for a woman of the Dunedain...but really, there was no other choice. And now that this tragedy had taken place...Yes, she had been wed just in time.
Eventually, her tears subsided, and she spoke, her voice still shaky. "Master Elrond...the Orcs...they killed him! My husband, A-"
Elrond held up a hand. "Nay, we'll not speak of it, not yet." He looked at the child in her arms. "There are many who would wish for such a child to perish, should they know who he really is." Gilraen looked up at him fearfully. "Do not worry," Elrond continued. "He shall be safe here. You and your son shall stay in Imladris as long as you wish. I feel your son will be very essential in the near future..." he said thoughtfully, walking slowly towards the window.
Gilraen nodded silently, looking at her child, who was asleep. He looked so peaceful resting in her arms. Who would ever wish to kill someone so innocent?
Elrond turned back to her. "We shall come him Estel, until the time comes when his true identity will be revealed."
Gilraen smiled. Estel...the elvish word, meaning 'hope.' Yes, they would stay in Rivendell, where her son would be kept safe from all enemies. She sighed...Safe, until his true identity was revealed.
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