Author's Note-- Hello Slash fans! Welcome to the fic of Lady Tari Elendil. This is out first fanfic together, so bear with us if it flows a little funny because our writing styles are a little different. We hope you enjoy and we promise no Mary Sues, lots of slashy fun, and nekkid men and/or elves. Have fun. Please read and review.
Disclaimer--As of now we own copies of Lord of the Rings, but not the actual story. If we did own it, not only would we be much wealthier, we would have lots more nekkid elves in the story. Also, this is a slash fic. With mentions of mpreg on the side. If ya don't like it, good for you. Doesn't mean we're going to change the story, so you better just turn back now before it's too late.
PS--No flames. Flames are bad; they make Lady Tari Elendil sad/mad/psycho. Flaming is not advised. If we get flames we will ask Gawahir to rain atomic coconuts on your pitiful city. (Elendil's idea) Thank you and enjoy. :-D
Puppy Love
In the years following the War of the Ring much of Middle-Earth changed, but especially the kingdom of Gondor. With Denethor's death and the arrival of Isildur's heir, a new age was ushered into the city of Minas Tirith. Aragorn was crowned king and almost immediately took Prince Legolas Thranduilion of Mirkwood as his prince consort.
It was feared that such an unorthodox move would permanently damage Aragorn's rule and even thrust the wounded country into civil war. But, the people proved surprisingly open and soon came to love their new king and consort.
Barely a month after Aragorn and Legolas' union, it was announced that the Prince Consort was expecting a child. The people of Minas Tirith were understandably shocked as it was explained that Legolas was a maternal elf and, obviously, had the ability to bear children. After the initial surprise wore off, the people again proved to be accepting and rejoiced with the birth of Princess Alatariël Elessar ten months later.
The people were even more overjoyed when the young Steward, Faramir son of Denethor announced that his own young wife was expecting. Almost exactly three months after the birth of the princess; Eowyn, Shield Maiden of Rohan gave birth to her own son, Erinion.
It was no small matter of amusement, when barely ten months after Princess Alatariël was born; Legolas gave birth to the eldest son of the king, Prince Peridhel Elessar. Aragorn had to endure quite a bit of good natured teasing over the apparent virility of Rangers.
And so time passed in the White City. Alatariël, Erinion, and Peridhel all grew up. Three more children were born to Aragorn and Legolas, though Caleb remained Faramir and Eowyn's only child. In what seemed like the blink of an eye, the three eldest Heirs of Gondor stood on the cusp of adulthood, their fateful eighteenth birthday's fast approaching.
Alatariël's POV
Some say that you never find your true love in your life. Well, that may be true for them, but I know someone is out there for me. I may have even found him already, but he doesn't know my feelings for him. Despite that fact that I am three months older than him, he looks upon me as a little sisters. He makes me laugh, he can read my mind, he protects me, but he does not love me. He does not know that I adore him, cherish him for afar, and worship him.
But who am I? I am Alatariël Gilraen Elessar, Princess of Gondor and heir to the throne. But most call me Calen, which means green, because of my love of the outdoors. Truth be told, being a princess isn't all sunshine, roses, and prince charming. Sometimes it seems like it is much more boring ceremonies, absent parents, and never being able to what you want.
I've always been very close to my parents (even though they are often busy with duties) but more so to my Father. As a little girl I had him firmly wrapped around my finger and I'll confess, I was spoiled rotten. But as I grew, my interest in dolls and frills quickly died. Replaced with thoughts of courage and warriors. I had spent hours watching the soldiers of Gondor training and at the tender age of eight, I told my father I wanted to learn the Art of War.
Ada, coming from the elves where weapon talent in either sex wasn't put to waste, but rather flourished beneath the tutelage of willing masters; supported me wholeheartedly in my ambition. Father, on the other hand, saw me then and still as his precious little girl. I found refuge in my grandfather and great grandmother, who also supported my choice.
Most in the palace thought that after a few weeks, I would give it up and return to more appropriate occupations. But, fortunately for me, a trait I inherited from my ada was stubbornness. And before long Father was instructing me in the basics of the sword, Ada did the same with the bow, and I spent months in Rivendell and Mirkwood studying under elven masters. Along with Erinion, I became a warrior.
One of the things they don't talk about in the fairy tales is that princesses are alone quite a bit of the time. For reasons I can't understand, peasant girls are thought to be unfit for companionship. And the Noble Daughters of Gondor were, to put it plainly, boring. They would rather discuss the warriors' faces than their skills. So it was no surprise that Erinion, a constant since my birth, became my best friend. And eventually, my love.
We've known each other since before we were born. His mother and my ada were pregnant at the same time. There's hardly been a day when we were apart. People used to comment on how adorable we were together.
I am graced (or cursed depending on your point of view) with the untamable dark curls of my father and blessed with the green eyes he fondly says came from his mother. The delicately pointed ears and the mouth I am told is sensual, come from Ada. It's strange; I resemble Father, but somehow am often mistaken for an elf.
Erinion has the soft, gentle beauty of his father and with the strength and pride of his mother and her line. It's no wonder that I, and every other girl in Gondor, love him. I've talked to Father about the boy that I love and he assures me that it is merely puppy love. But it doesn't feel like that, it feels real and deep and all encompassing. Whenever I'm around him, I act like nothing has changed, but it is an act only.
I sit at my window and watch the warriors train. I see him, moving in a perfect rhythm with his sword. I see the rippling muscles beneath the training shirts that the soldiers are commissioned, and I see the glimmering of those muscles when sleeked with sweat and the shirt laying forgotten on the sharp, green grass. I suspect he sees me, gazing down at him, but he hasn't mentioned it.
During these sessions, I have come to one unarguable fact. I love Erinion, I know I do. But he doesn't return my ardor. I fear that I will never be anything more than a sister.
Erinion's POV
I can feel her staring at me, the power of her gaze sends the truth in a painful realization. She wants to be more than friends, and somehow, I'm afraid she might even love me. It's something that a normal man would take in stride or greet with joyous thanks to the Valar. Apparently, I am not a normal man. If I could lie, I would say it's because she's like a sister, no more a 'woman' to me than my mother. But I have never been very good at lying, I scolded too often for it when I was young.
Growing up was strange for me. I was a quiet child, the spitting image of my father in more than just appearance. Perhaps it's because I never had any siblings to be louder than. If I wanted my parents' attention, I didn't have to scream for it.
I've always lived around Calen, and I've always felt like her older brother, though she often reminds me I am the younger of us. As children, we were always getting into trouble. It was normally her idea, her fault. She's very persuasive when she wants to be and who was I to refuse the princess? More often than not, when something was broken in the castle, you'd see on dark head and one light head racing away from the scene of the crime.
As the years passed, she was, effectively, my sister. Her parents, my godparents, made that clear with the way they treated other young men. I used to get jealous stares from other young warriors who'd been threatened with various tortures if they even looked at her sideways while I could spend hours with her alone. It wasn't until later that I realized her sibling love had grown.
I can remember the exact moment when I realized that she loved me. We were sitting in the gardens just talking. And after a while, we lapsed into silence. I closed my eyes, enjoying the peace and quiet, but I could feel her looking at me. When I looked, her eyes betrayed her words. I wonder what she saw. Beyond the blue eyes, the gentle face, the brown hair with hints of yellow...beyond the face of my father. What I had done to capture her love?
I should have said something then, but I didn't. Partly, because though I do not love her, I do care for her very deeply. I care fore her happiness. And partly, because if I did tell her I would also have to say who I love. And I fear that knowledge would be too much for her.
You see, I do love a child of the King and Prince Consort of Gondor. I love one of Aragorn and Legolas's precious children. Not their daughter, as many would assume, but their son. Beautiful, wonderful, perfect Peridhel. Peridhel who feels to me as I feel to Calen. Who looked up to me, who I taught everything I know.
Unlike with Calen, I don't know exactly when I first realized I loved Peri. It wasn't a single moment or an incident that made the truth come to light. When Calen and I were about ten we first welcomed Peri into our friendship. He was only a year younger and mature for his age, so very quickly we became a group of equals.
I found that with him, I could talk about things that I simply couldn't with Calen and was too uncomfortable to talk about with my father. We weathered the awkward transition from childhood to young adulthood together. Cracking voices, ridiculous growth spurts, all of it. It was during that time, watching him change from a round faced child to a beautiful young man that I fell in love. And in love I remain.
And just as Calen watches me from her window, I watch Peri from the sidelines. I watch as he perfects the elven talent with the bow, one of the many gifts bestowed upon him from his ada. I watch the sun shine of the brilliant hair as I wonder if it is as silky soft as it looks. I watch the long, lithe body pull the bow taunt, aim with unnatural precision, and let the arrow fly. When he smiles at his triumph, the butterflies in my stomach rise.
A phrase often heard among my parents, Calen's parents, anyone with children in the strange age between childhood and adulthood; is puppy love. I don't know if what I feel for Peri is puppy love or real love. I've never been in either kind before. But truth be told, I don't think it really matters. To Peri, I am and sibling and a man. I don't know he could ever feel the same as I.
Peridhel's POV
As I practice with the elven made bow, a gift from Father, many eyes are upon me. But one pair seems more important than any of the others. My friends watch with admiration of a skill I've worked hard to improve, some watch for ways to improve their own skills. When Erinion watches, he is not appraising my stance or memorizing how I hold my bow, he looking at me. Looking at my face.
That gaze sends shivers down my spine, but from fear or happiness I don't know. I am confused, I don't know how I feel. Who I love, if I love at all. A part of me longs to feel Erinion's lips, to know just what it is like for my soul to belong to someone. But it's never that easy. Calen hasn't told me that she loves Erinion, but I know. We can't hide anything from each other.
To hear everyone describe it, my birth was a 'surprise.' Once, I heard it whispered among the gossiping servants that I was a mistake. The result of an uninterrupted night between my father and ada to celebrate Calen's birth. The thought sent me into tears. But Ada was fast to explain that I wasn't a mistake I was surprise. The difference being, a mistake is an unexpected unwelcome action, while a surprise is unexpected welcome action.
As a child, it often seemed like Calen and I were twins, instead of merely brother and sister. I was more like Ada in personality, calmer and seemingly older than what I was. We even managed to develop the sixth sense about each other, knowing when the other is hurt or sad. It was strange that we should act so alike, yet look so different. Father shows in Calen's face, Ada shows in mine. The same chiseled features, blonde hair just a little darker than his. Blue eyes, with gray rims. We are built identically, the same tall, lithe musculature.
I can't remember a time when Erinion and Calen weren't the two of the most important people in my life. From the time I was four, I worshipped him. When he learned the sword, I stood off to the side and practiced with a stick. I followed him like a shadow and eventually he stopped ignoring me, as was expected, and began to treat me as a friend.
But it wasn't until we were twelve and thirteen respectively that we became very close. The year that puberty struck us both. Overnight we could grow six inches. Some days it hurt to walk as our skin struggle to keep up with our bones. Our voices began to crack, causing us to squeak in the middle of sentences. Hilarious to Calen, embarrassing to Erinion and me.
I thought I had found the perfect arrangement. On one hand, I had my sister who would listen to whatever I had to say and provide me with advice. To her I could ask questions that I was too embarrassed to say to anyone else. She could read my moods like a book and always knew when I was upset. She was the person who knew me better than I did.
On the other hand, I had Erinion, who was like an older brother. Helping me weather the seas of adolescence. He understood what I was going through, unlike Calen. At times when I felt like my arms and legs were twice as long as they needed to be and I couldn't walk two feet without tripping, he sympathized. He was my comrade in life; he knew exactly what to say to make me feel better.
Unfortunately, it changed. I remember when I realized that he loved me and the funny thing is, it was on the same day I realized the same of someone else. Before that day, I had never given much thought to love and marriage. Unlike most of the Noble Daughters, who spent hours obsessing over it. Anyway, that afternoon as I was finishing up with my bow, a girl named Nindë came and watched.
I didn't give her much thought, I knew who she was and I liked her. We had spoken on occasion and she was decidedly more tomboyish than her sisters and friends. When I finished with my bow, she fell in step with me as I walked to the storage room. It was strangely deserted that day. I was replacing my bow on its shelf when suddenly, she said calmly that she thought she loved me and wanted to know what I thought.
I considered my answer for a moment. There was no question she was pretty, not a stunning beauty perhaps, but pretty in her own way. She was short, probably able to fit her nose under my ribs if we stood face to face, with a slight body. Long, curly brown hair framed her face and lovely soft, hazel eyes. I realized that I was attracted to Nindë. So, not a very talkative person, I kissed her softly, smiled, and left. I hoped that would answer her question.
I was whistling the rest of the day and as evening came I asked Erinion if he wanted to come walk with me in the gardens so I could tell him. Calen was sick that day, so we were alone as we strolled beneath the deepening purple sky and faint stars.
I related to him everything that had happened. Right down to the little kiss Nindë and I had shared. I had expected him to react with teasing and happiness, but his response was faint, and sad, I realized. When I looked at him, I saw it in his face for a split second and I knew. Erinion loved me and I realized that I might love him back.
It's a desperately uncomfortable limbo. I am attracted to Nindë, her beauty, her wit. She is pretty and clever and everything I could ask for in a girl. But then, with Erinion, something deeper happens. Not just light stomach flutters, but a deep shiver in my soul when I look in his eyes. I don't know what to do, made even more difficult because no one knows I favor men.
I don't want anyone to get hurt, I want everyone happy, I want...a million things that I can't have. But one of the things that I am constantly being told is that I am royal and that means making choices and dealing with the consequences.
But I am still left wondering, what is the difference between puppy love and real love?
TBC
PS-What do you think? Good, bad, utter and total crap? Please review? We want to know. Tari and Elendil thrive on reviews? :-D
PS--We will use both Alatariël and Calen because Calen is like a family and close friend nickname. Peridhel will probably be called Peri most of the time, mainly because Tari is typing this fic and when she tries to type Peridhel, Pereidgiel comes out.