Title: Little Swan

Pairing: None

Beta: Idhrenwen (1st chapter only)

Rating: R

Genre: Angst / Drama

WARNING: Violence

Beta: None

Cast: Haldir, Orophin, Rúmil, Celeborn, Galadriel, OCs

Disclaimer: I own no-one from The Lord Of The Rings. All the characters and place names displayed belong to JRR Tolkien except Seòras, Naelie, Beleril and Bricta who are from my own imagination and are the only ones I lay claim to. I do not intend to, nor am I making any financial gain from the writing of this story.

Feedback: Yes please! We "aspiring" authors thrive on the stuff.

Timeline: Before the War of the Ring. Not following movie-verse.

Summary: After her mother's brutal execution, young Naelie and her father are left to piece their lives back together. But the outside world, will not allow this.

Chapter 1

The young woman paled as she stood before her elders, awaiting their verdict. Silence reigned all around the room. Families waited with baited breath and every second seemed like a millennia. Slowly, one of the elders rose to his feet. He was thin, grey haired and looked as though he had not slept in weeks. Even the garments, which he wore seemed to drag downwards with exhaustion.

For a few seconds, the man exchanged a cold stare with the woman bound to the chair in front of him. Finally he spoke.

"Bricta, daughter of Owras. You stand accused of several counts of larceny, extortion and fraud. You shall now hear the verdict to be placed upon you." He turned to the fellow elders. "Have you reached a verdict?"

A younger man stood up, glaring at Bricta. Bricta returned the icy glance, her face paling with every second that went by.

"We have" said the man.

"And what is your decision?"

The man smiled grimly at Bricta, a glint of satisfaction wavering in his cold eyes.

"Guilty".

"Mother!"

A child, barely older than six ran forward after the seething crowd. Excitement and anticipation hung in the air like a fell stench and the slow moving crowd hummed and buzzed with morbid curiosity as they made their way to the cliff top. Still, the child ran on, pushing her way through, gradually getting nearer and nearer to the front.

"Mother!" she cried again, her voice silent against the excited cries of the people towering above her. Suddenly, her young eyes caught a glimpse of a tall figure dressed in an ivory gown, fluttering slightly in the breeze. Although the child could not see the figure's face, she still ran forward as fast as her tiny legs could carry her.

She finally reached the figure and tugged on the dress hard. The figure whipped around sharply, its chestnut hair flying in the wind. The child's face brightened immediately. "Mother!" Flinging herself forward, she wrapped herself securely around her mother's leg. Bending down, Bricta stroked her daughter's hair softly.

"Where are you going, mamma?" The child asked, staring upwards with frightened liquid brown eyes. Bricta fought back to keep the tears from flowing at her daughter's words. "I am afraid, Naelie, I will be going away for a while" said Bricta softly and finally succumbed to her tears.

"Don't cry, mamma" she said "We'll see each other soon"

Bricta hugged her daughter close to her and kissed her on the cheek.

"Take care, while I am away, Naelie. Your father will look after you"

"But I don't want you to go."

"I know, little swan. But I promise, we will see each other soon"

Naelie wiped the tears from her eyes.

"Promise?" she stammered

Bricta nodded. "Promise".

Nealie nodded and slightly reluctantly withdrew from her mother's embrace. As soon as she let her child loose, Bricta was roughly shoved forward towards the edge of the cliff.

Strong arms lifted Naelie up and held her tight.

"Do not worry, little swan. Father will take care of you now."

A short man with a bald patch ambled up to Naelie and her father and spoke in a hushed voice.

"You had better be getting her out of here, Seòras" he said quietly. "Wouldn't want her to be here when the time comes."

Seòras changed a glance up to the cliff top. It was as though time had stood still. Even the birds flew no further. The wind ceased its whistling. Looking over her shoulder, Bricta caught her husband's eye and gave a weak smile of farewell. Seòras turned his head away. The grief weighed down too heavy upon his aching heart. To meet her eyes for more than that second would surely dissolve him into despair. For his daughter's sake, he knew he could not do so.

"Seòras? You need to go. Now."

Seòras nodded grimly to the man. Holding Naelie tight, he made his way back through the crowds towards their village.

"Bricta, daughter of Owras. You have been found guilty of counts of larceny, extortion and fraud. If you have a desire to speak, do so now."

Bricta stared at the executioner with the utmost revulsion and then cried out in a loud voice, so all around could hear.

"I tell ye, daughters and sons of the West. May you never lay claim to what is mine. Shall you do as such, a curse be placed on your household, ne'er to let your dead rest."

The crowd fell silent, then somebody gave a hollow laugh. Soon all surrounding the area were in uproar at Bricta's words. They spat on her. Mocked and called out to her. Ignoring their callous shouts, Bricta turned and made her way to the edge of the cliff where the executioner stood. At a silent nod from him, she laid herself down upon the rock at which he gestured at.

The taunts and jeers of the crowd still rang in her ears and she closed her eyes tight in an attempt to drown them out. She could not see it, but she could feel herself being tied down to the rock. The cords cut into her wrist causing her to twitch in suppressed pain. She would not give the leeches the benefit of seeing her weep. She was Bricta, daughter of Owras. Nay. She would never let them see her openly suffer. She refused to give them that satisfaction.

"Here you shall lay your last, Bricta daughter of Owras. May the Valar have mercy upon your soul."

Bricta lay still, the executioner's final words echoing inside her head. She knew what was coming. She had seen it occur all too many times before.

The executioner backed away from the cliff edge and retreated back down to where the crowd silently stood.

For over half an hour there came no sound. Only the sharp whistle of the wind and the sigh of the grass as it swept over them, could be heard. Suddenly, a piercing shriek rang down from the heavens. Its shrill screech rang through the air, turning every heart to ice with fear. The wind became more fierce with the threat of the oncoming inevitability.

Dull flapping of wings could be heard from far above where the crowd stood and watched with baited breath. With no warning whatsoever, an enormous creature descended from the murky clouds.

Its body was in likeness to that of an eagle but its size was over three times that of which an eagle should be. Its plumage glimmered with the dark colours of the night, it's wings shimmering as it made for the rock, upon which Bricta lay helpless.

The creature's eyes blazed silver as it focused in upon its prey, then anding silently upon the rock, it gazed upon Bricta with a ravenous glint in it's steely orbs. Bending low over her, it opened its silver hooked beak and buried it deep inside her living flesh.

Bricta cried out in pure agony, all dignity forgotten. She scrabbled frantically at her bonds, trying against hope to release herself, but no avail. The ebony creature continued to feed upon her, taking in everything. Clothing, muscle and bone were all devoured. Heedless to Bricta's cries and screams, it continued to feast upon her. It's once gleaming beak was now stained a poisonous red and finally it made the final strike.

Bricta ceased all vocal sounds and lay still upon the rock. Her life blood trickled down the grey stone, turning even the tips of the grass blades scarlet.

The crowd murmured to themselves. The show was over. Turning back down the hill, they made their way back to their homes, leaving the creature to finish its meal.

Gazing out of the window, Seòras felt salt water pricking at his eyes. The crowd was coming back and that could only mean one thing.

His wife and beloved, criminal or not, was dead. A heart-wrenching thought struck him. How could he ever bring himself to tell Nealie? She would never see her mother again. Finally succumbing to his grief, he buried his head in his arms and wept.

Finally, the fell creature flew off into the night, leaving nothing except a few tattered remnants of clothing flapping in the breeze.

He watched intently as the beast unfurled its ebony wings, taking care to keep out of sight, should the creature fly in his direction.

Once he was sure the bird creature had surely gone, he leapt deftly down from the branch upon which he had been perched. Shaking his head in disbelief at the horrific, brutal nature of the humans, the slim figure disappeared into the night, his fine silver hair fluttering behind him.