This is a pretty dark and angsty love story in the end, and I hope you note, though, that I am not looking to stick directly and totally with the Tolkien time line of events and ways. It just wouldn't be fanfiction, otherwise. Please read and review. belethil
Disclaimer: I only own those I have created.
To say it had been a long ride would have been quite the understatement. It had been a two day
ride with no rest for her to make it to the forests of Lorien at a hard gallop. It wasn't until she could
catch sight of the lights of Caras Galadon that she leaned back upon her great black mare,
slowing her to an easy canter. She had heard a soft whistle many miles back, and knew she had
been watched since she even neared the forests. As the lights began to brighten her way, she
nudged her mare to the left, finally stepping onto a well trodden main path, and slowed to a walk.
Almost instantly, she heard the quiet rustling about her and stopped. She pushed back her hood
and looked to her left. "Melda Haldir." Several elves appeared from the trees about her. "Tarcil."
She smiled softly and shifted slightly, watching as Haldir approached her, running a hand along
the mare's neck as he studied her. "It has been several years….it is quite the pleasure to see
you again." He paused, stepping back as she moved to dismount. The two days ride took its toll
then, her knees buckling as her feet hit the ground. Haldir caught her before she landed forward
upon the ground and steadied her. "I would think well you'd like to rest…you seem quite
spent….." She laughed softly, leaning upon him as she stretched her legs. "After a bit…..I would
see Galadriel before rest would find me….there is much that I need to hear I'm sure." He nodded,
suddenly solemn and walked quietly next to her toward Caras Geladon, the other elves melding
back into the forest.
It was still somewhat early in the evening, and thus many were about to witness her arrival. She
had visited here many times and was well known here…just not in some time. Haldir drifted
behind her at one point as she walked amidst the trees, seemingly intent upon her destination.
She stopped finally, and Haldir came to stand at her shoulder. She found Galadriel and Celeborn
seated peacefully in the clearing, both turning to her as she bowed slightly. Galadriel rose first,
briefly embracing her. "Queen Sycha….it is good that you have come so quickly." She only
nodded and embraced Celeborn as well. "I am no queen, Galadriel…do not name me as such."
Galadriel walked over to the great mare and ran a hand over her neck. "You are, Sycha, you will
need to face that soon. The ring has been found." Several moments passed before it sunk in to
her. Sycha visibly paled, her voice suddenly cracked as she took a step toward her. "Found?"
Celeborn motioned slightly and turned away from the clearing. "Come, Sycha, there are some
that you would need to meet. They would better tell you what you desire…..and Legolas would
have other news of interest to you." Sycha was silent and followed Celeborn.
Galadriel hummed softly as they descended along a path, coming to a set of massive mallorn
trees, where, upon walking around, served as a sort of restful shelter for a myriad group of
individuals Sycha did not recognize. Celeborn moved away silently, taking her mare where she
would feed and rest, and Galadriel moved toward the group, leaving Haldir to stand at Sycha's
shoulder. Haldir motioned slightly to one fair haired individual, and Sycha's brow knitted in
confusion. "Legolas?!" With only a whisper, Legolas sat up instantly, his head whipping around to
fix upon Sycha. After a moment, he rose to his feet, blinking. He bowed deeply to her, glad to see
her well. She shook her head and took a step forward. "It has been much time, Legolas since you
have been home…I had not known where you had gone, though your father assured me you
were well….and please, you owe me no honor." He still bowed to her, coming back up slowly.
"Whether now or soon, you are still the rightful and good queen of Mordor." She pressed her eyes
closed at that, missing Aragorn's eyes flying open, his head turning to watch the scene unfold
here. Galadriel placed a hand upon Sycha's shoulder and motioned to the slumbering figures.
"These are the eight, formerly nine, named the fellowship by Lord Elrond in Rivendell…..our
friend Gandalf has currently fallen into shadow, and that is all. The little one called Frodo bears
the ring. He lays there." Galadriel motioned to the small hobbit's sleeping form, unaware that he
was being spoke of. "They travel to Mordor, that much you know….and the ring will be destroyed
in the fires of Mordor." Galadriel turned her attention fully to Sycha. "I would leave you to your
decision of joining them…but in the meantime, I leave you to your memories." Galadriel left
from the clearing then, and Sycha turned back to Legolas. Haldir remained as well. Legolas
pulled from an inner pocket a wrapped cloth, bearing it toward her. In this time, Aragorn watched
through slitted eyes, listening intently. Legolas pressed the bundle into her hands, closing her
fingers over it and finally speaking quietly to her in Elvish. "Lord Elrond bids this to you in the
greatest of love…that it lend you some small strength to overcome the pain of the past, the pain
of the future, and bear you back into his arms." Aragorn's eyes opened fully at this, puzzled at
Legolas' words. She unwrapped the bundle handed to her and withdrew a rather simple circlet, by
elvish standards. An almost unnatural whine elicited from her throat as she ran a finger over it.
Aragorn began to sit up, stirring Boromir, who lay next to him. After a long moment, Sycha's head
came up, and Legolas was startled by the raw pain in her eyes, tears instantly glistening on her
lashes. "Tell me, dearest Legolas,…..How…is Lord Elrond?" Her voice cracked horribly, yet
she stood composed, almost regal. Legolas glanced over her shoulder to Haldir, who looked
away. "He is well. He…." Legolas paused, watching the tears sliding down her cheeks. "He
misses you terribly." It brought the smallest of smiles from her, amidst her pain, but brought her
down. She dropped to her knees hard, faster than Haldir could catch her. A sudden wail from
deep within her succeeded in waking those who were still asleep, causing them to jump from their
slumber. Legolas and Haldir both knelt to the ground with her, trying in vain to console her. She
clutched the circlet to her chest, doubled over, and sobbed with all of the pent up pain and
desolation she had felt for the past three thousand years. Haldir murmured to her softly in elvish
as Legolas cradled her head, waiting with a compassionate patience for this to pass. Aragorn had
since risen, motioning Boromir and the little ones to silence. For many minutes this went on, and
Legolas let Haldir take her, enveloping her in his arms as she held to him, sobbing into his chest.
It seemed almost disrespectful to do anything other than let her be. In time, her crying lessened,
and she was left with a blinding numbness. Haldir stroked her hair softly, hearing the slight
movement behind him of the others now awake. Aragorn had studied her as he had lain listening,
and could not place where she might have come from, but there was something unspeakably
familiar about her. She wore a style of gown he had not seen elsewhere and a heavy black cloak
of elvish design. She bore no weapons, uncommon for any traveler. But it was really her hair that
stuck out. It was a deep, dark red. Not a bright red, as he had seen before in other lands, but a
dark red, as though of autumn or maybe a berry. He remembered reading of one with that color
hair, and he couldn't quite place- . "Who is she, Legolas?" The loud whisper came from behind,
from Boromir, who simply would not wait any longer. The elf shot him a look and glanced up at
Aragorn. In a harried and muffled voice, they heard her speak. "I am the daughter of Mirrana
Neroal…." After a moment, Boromir shrugged. "That means nothing to me." She pulled her head
up and pushed her hair back. "I know that would mean nothing to any of you….save the
elves…for they are the only ones who have written of me or my mother…..Mirrana Neroal was
the daughter of Nienna, one of the Immortal Aratar, also the Valar." Sycha paused and sat back
upon her heels, slowly composing herself. Legolas drew away as Haldir helped her to her feet
and she turned to face those who had woken. It seemed as she did, that Aragorn knew her. He
bowed slightly and nodded, as though to himself. "You're mother is the unnamed one….the one
who betrayed the elves…..which if I remember right, makes you Sycha Mirrana, the white queen
of Mordor who was cursed by your mother and the dark Lord Sauron at the War of the Last
Alliance." This obviously did not sit well with Boromir, whose hand slid to the hilt of his sword. The
hobbits remained still and silent, simply listening. Sycha grimaced and nodded slightly, dropping
back down to the ground, her skirts billowing out perfectly around her as she curled her legs
beneath her. "From that as well as your friend's obvious discomfort at your words, if I am to gain
any trust from the group of you, I will tell you the truth of the story, as the elves of the years have
been compassionate enough to write of." She heard a hushed sound from Haldir as well as the
guarded expression from Legolas and she shrugged. "It has been told so many times
before….and I have told it enough as well….I will make it through….and I feel they have a right to
know."
