Title: I Will Be Your Friend
Characters: Ashiaro, Miriel, Elrond, Legolas, Thranduil, Laurelin,
Elladan/Elrohir, Acacia, Thilamo, Thacia
Summary: While on a trip to visit his mother's family in Mirkwood, Ashiaro
meets an Elf maiden, and they become close friends. When Ashiaro and Miriel
travel back to Rivendell, they encounter many troubles. Can they remain
friends through the tough road home?
(A/N: This story comes in several parts. It is still a WIP. Thank you for your patience.)
i
"I'll be your friend for a lifetime
Against the wind and the rain of every season
Won't walk away in the hard times
I will be your friend."
-Michael W. Smith
iTo Laura, for putting up with me, and sticking by me in honours chemistry, and Josué, who will always be there when you need him most./i (
Rivendell...
Ashiaro quickly braided his dark hair back, out of his face, in the typical Elvish fashion. He sighed to himself as he tied his dark cloak around his shoulders, fastening it with a dark red stone, which had been a gift from his father, Thialmo. Silently, he picked up his sword, Elieviana, the Sun Catcher, and fastened it around his waist. He knew he'd be needing it on his trip to Mirkwood.
Mirkwood. Mirkwood was the home of his mother, Acacia. Her cousin, Thranduil, ruled there, and had since Ashiaro could remember. He had never really enjoyed going to Mirkwood. It was a sad place, full of fear and anxiety. It was not like home. Home in Rivendell with Elrond's family was comforting. They accepted him for who he was, not ridiculing him for who he was not. Ashiaro was a peredhel, one of those of mixed human and Elvish descent. Other Elves would often push him away because of this.
His father had been a Ranger of the north, a brilliant thinker, yet an outcast to society. Others had never really accepted Thialmo, no matter where he went. The closest places to his heart had been Rivendell, for Elrond was kind, and Gondor, where his people were from. He had met Acacia whilst on a trip to Mirkwood, and they fell in love. Thacia, Ashiaro's older sister, had been born first, and ten years later, Ashiaro had been born. Shortly after Ashiaro was born, Thialmo had been killed in the war against Sauron, at the same battle that such as Elendil, Anárion and Gil- galad were killed.
Thacia was now a Ranger herself, though both she and her brother had chosen to be Elven-kind. She traveled throughout the east, and, as far as Ashiaro knew, she lived in Lothlórien, the fair land of Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel.
"Ashiaro," said a voice from behind him, taking Ashiaro out of his thoughts momentarily. Ashiaro turned to find Elrond standing behind him. He smiled at the peredhel, a grateful look in his bright, green eyes. After Thialmo had died and Acacia, returned to Mirkwood, Elrond had taken Ashiaro as his own son, raising him with the same care as he gave to Elladan and Elrohir, the twins, who were roughly one hundred years younger than he was.
"Yes, Ada?" Ashiaro asked. He had never really known his father, as he had only been about five-years-old when his father was killed. Most of the memories of his father were through the stories that Elrond or Glorfindel would tell him, or things that Elrond would give to him that once belonged to Thialmo, like his sword. Elrond had raised him with love and care, just like a father would.
"Be careful on your way to Mirkwood," Elrond warned. "The path is treacherous, and the weather is less than kind." He handed a small scroll to Ashiaro. "Keep this well," he said. "For it must go to Thranduil."
"Yes, Ada," Ashiaro said. He took the scroll gently in his hands and placed it in his bag. It was a smaller scroll than what Elrond would usually send to Thranduil, but it was probably even more important.
Elrond placed both hands on Ashiaro's shoulders. "Go well, my son," he said. He and Ashiaro embraced one another, and soon Ashiaro was off. On his way to Mirkwood.
Quickly, Ashiaro mounted his horse, Hasufel. Hasufel was a kind horse, though his previous owner had mistreated him, and Ashiaro had gained the horse's trust and friendship. It had taken several long months of constant struggle for both Hasufel and Ashiaro, but their companionship was well worth the effort.
"Noro lim, Hasufel," Ashiaro whispered to the horse. He had never really enjoyed horses, but Hasufel was different. He felt that somehow, the horse could sense his feelings, and this comforted him. Hasufel walked out of the stables and broke into a smooth canter. Ashiaro held tight, though he had no fear that Hasufel would let him fall. It had only happened once, and that was more Ashiaro's fault than that of Hasufel's.
/center
Mirkwood...
Miriel let her older brother comb her hair, even though she did not want to. Her golden hair fell past her shoulders, a tangled mess as her brother fought with her to brush it.
"Miriel," he told her in his soft voice. "Ada insists upon it." And he combed her tangled hair, tousled by the wind as she had run through the forest, trying to get away from her brother for a while.
"But, Legolas!" she whined. A sharp glare from Eruanneth, one of the servant girls, silenced her. 'Twas best not to protest, especially against one of Thranduil's orders. Miriel sighed, longingly staring out the window. She could hear her brother's voice, talking of tales from the wild, far away, but she was lost in her own little world.
Being a girl was no fun, she thought to herself. Her brother was always allowed go on adventures with his friends, but she was always stuck in the house. Thranduil, their father, had strict rules. She was not allowed to go into the forest by herself, save within sight of the Halls. She was not allowed to go outside in the nighttime at all. And, worst of all, she was confined to lessons with the other girls, learning how to sew and weave and other things that she did not wish to know how to do.
"Alright, Miriel," Legolas said, handing the comb back to his younger sister. Miriel snatched it from him and stormed out of the room before Legolas could do anything more. She ran to her room and slammed the door. Burying her face in a blanket, she started to cry.
A soft knock was barely heard on her door as Laurelin gently opened it up. Her soft complexion was calm and her light blue eyes glowed gently. Her golden hair was tied back loosely from her face. To most, Miriel looked like her mother, shining blue eyes glistening at any given moment, and long, blonde hair flying behind her as she ran.
"Please, Miriel," Laurelin began. She sat down on the bed beside her daughter, gently stroking Miriel's hair. The young Elf did not sit up, but only buried her face deeper into the blanket. "Your Adar does not want to make your life miserable. He only wishes to protect you."
Miriel thought to herself. To her, Thranduil's strict rules had never seemed to protect her. They only seemed to make her life miserable.
"But Naneth!" she said, sitting up to face her mother. Her tear-stained cheeks glistened, even in the dim lighting of the room.
Laurelin took her daughter into her arms, and wiped her eyes. "Miriel, dear," she began. "Lord Elrond Half-Elven of Rivendell is sending his adopted son with a message for your adar. Do you know where Rivendell is?"
Miriel nodded. She had learnt many things in school lessons from Eruanneth, not just how to sew and grow things. They had also learnt some history and geography of Middle-earth.
Laurelin continued. "It would be very inconsiderate if you did not at least greet him with courtesy," she said.
Miriel wiped her eyes and laid her head on her mother's shoulder. She rubbed her cheek against Laurelin's soft dress. Her mother loved her, even though she couldn't sit through even one of Eruanneth's lectures about the importance of keeping her stitches straight whilst sewing or not climbing up the trees. A gentle word from her mother made everything better. She sniffled and turned towards her mother.
"That's my girl." Laurelin kissed Miriel on the cheek and stood up. She walked over to the other side of the room and picked up Miriel's silvery- white dress. "Why don't you put this on?" she suggested.
Miriel nodded and wiped her eyes once again. She took her old tunic off and put her dress on. She liked the feel of the silk-like dress on her bare arms and legs.
Laurelin hugged her daughter gently. "You look like a princess, Miriel," she whispered. "Now, be the princess you look like." She walked out of the room and Miriel followed. They walked into the main hall, where Thranduil was scolding Legolas.
"Go prepare yourself, Legolas," he said in a strict voice. Common sense told Laurelin not to ask what had gone on between them. Oftentimes, Legolas would do something wrong, and Thranduil would get very upset, out of all respects, even. "A messenger from Elrond is coming this evening." Legolas nodded and ran to his room, and Thranduil turned to Laurelin, kissing her on the forehead.
/center
Ashiaro dismounted Hasufel, landing on both his feet gracefully. He stroked Hasufel gently along his mane. It was a good deal before dark when they finally arrived in Mirkwood.
He sighed. The journey had taken him longer than he thought it would, even though he had traveled south, through the Gap of Rohan. It probably did not help that he stopped in Rohan to visit Éomain, one of the Rohirrim, but it had only been for one night. Nearly a fortnight and a half had passed since he had left Rivendell.
"Come, Hasufel," he said, the reins wound loosely around his right hand. With is other hand, he fingered the hilt of Elieviana, wary of danger. In all truth, he missed his homeland of Rivendell, and longed to return. But first, he had to deliver the message to Thranduil-whatever the message was. The curiosity part of him wondered what Elrond had written for the King of Mirkwood. Shaking his head slowly, he scolded himself for even being the slightest bit curious. He walked slowly into the stables and left Hasufel there. "Later, my friend," he whispered to the horse. Hasufel whinnied and nuzzled Ashiaro's cheek.
"Suilad, mellon-nin!" came a voice from behind him. Startled because had had not heard anyone coming, Ashiaro turned quickly to find Legolas. He knew his cousin was one of the few Elves who would even try to make him feel welcome here.
Ashiaro let out a laugh, remembering that the wood elves were altogether noiseless in their movements. He wondered how long it would take him to fully realize this.
"It has been a long time since I have seen you," Ashiaro replied to Legolas. He smiled towards his friend.
"Ashiaro, mellon-nin, what do you say upon going to the halls?" asked Legolas. Right after Ashiaro nodded, the blonde Elf took his cousin by the hand and dragged him into the Hall where Thranduil sat.
Ashiaro, still only in his grey tunic and black leggings, his travel clothing, walked over to the other side of the Hall where Thranduil was sitting on his chair. Servants were seen, but there were few about. He knelt down near Thranduil's feet, his dark hair hanging down into his face.
"King Thranduil, m'lord." He placed the scroll in Thranduil's hands. "Tis from Elrond." Thranduil did not say anything; he simply nodded and took it out of Ashiaro's hands. Ashiaro bowed slightly and rose to his feet once again. As he started to leave, Laurelin caught his attention.
"Ashiaro," she said. Ashiaro stopped. Her voice sounded shockingly like his mother's had. If he closed his eyes, it could almost be Acacia. His ears twitched and he shook his head. "Have you met out daughter and son yet? I am sure you have met Legolas."
Ashiaro nodded. He and Legolas had been friends for a few years; their friendship had originated out of the desire to get the identical twins (Elladan and Elrohir) back for several practical jokes that had been played on them during one of Legolas's visits to Rivendell. It had never really been a close friendship, but the purpose was more to avoid pranks than anything else. Nevertheless, both Ashiaro and Legolas enjoyed the other's company.
"I have met Legolas, but I have not met your daughter," he said. iIf she is anything like her brother, then life here is NOT going to be easy,/i he thought to himself.
Laurelin smiled. "This is Miriel," she said, placing a hand on Miriel's shoulder. She gave her daughter a slight push towards Ashiaro.
Miriel smiled politely, but it was obvious that she did not care for Ashiaro. iHe's one of my brother's friends,/i she thought to herself. iHow can he ever be one of mine? /i"Suilad," she said, playing with one of her braids.
"I am sure you will become the best of friends," Laurelin smiled. To Miriel, she whispered, "Show him around, please. I need to speak alone with your adar about something."
Miriel started to protest, but Laurelin had already left. She didn't know why her brother couldn't show Ashiaro around Mirkwood. After all, her brother was his friend.
To Miriel's relief, it was Ashiaro who spoke first. "What do you do in Mirkwood?" he asked.
Miriel took him by the arm. She deliberately avoided his question. If he found out what she really did all day, he would probably fall asleep out of boredom within the first five seconds of her answer. "I'll take you to your room," she said, her voice not her own. "It's near my brother's room."
Ashiaro nodded gratefully and followed Miriel to a room near Legolas's room. It was fairly small, but large enough for him and the few things that he brought with him. A clean green tunic and brown leggings were laid out neatly on the bed.
"I'll leave you to change and unpack all of your things," Miriel said, shutting the door behind her as she left the room.
Ashiaro sat down on the bed and took off his cloak and shoes. It had been a long ride, even stopping in Rohan briefly to see Éomain. Nearly a fortnight had passed since he had been in Rivendell. His home. Sighing to himself, he changed his clothes, out of his dirty, travel-worn tunic and leggings and into those that had been provided by Thranduil. He undid his braids and combed though his hair with his fingers. He put his head back on the pillow. Before he knew it, he had fallen asleep.
iNext Part Coming Soon!
Elizabeth/i
(A/N: This story comes in several parts. It is still a WIP. Thank you for your patience.)
i
"I'll be your friend for a lifetime
Against the wind and the rain of every season
Won't walk away in the hard times
I will be your friend."
-Michael W. Smith
iTo Laura, for putting up with me, and sticking by me in honours chemistry, and Josué, who will always be there when you need him most./i (
Rivendell...
Ashiaro quickly braided his dark hair back, out of his face, in the typical Elvish fashion. He sighed to himself as he tied his dark cloak around his shoulders, fastening it with a dark red stone, which had been a gift from his father, Thialmo. Silently, he picked up his sword, Elieviana, the Sun Catcher, and fastened it around his waist. He knew he'd be needing it on his trip to Mirkwood.
Mirkwood. Mirkwood was the home of his mother, Acacia. Her cousin, Thranduil, ruled there, and had since Ashiaro could remember. He had never really enjoyed going to Mirkwood. It was a sad place, full of fear and anxiety. It was not like home. Home in Rivendell with Elrond's family was comforting. They accepted him for who he was, not ridiculing him for who he was not. Ashiaro was a peredhel, one of those of mixed human and Elvish descent. Other Elves would often push him away because of this.
His father had been a Ranger of the north, a brilliant thinker, yet an outcast to society. Others had never really accepted Thialmo, no matter where he went. The closest places to his heart had been Rivendell, for Elrond was kind, and Gondor, where his people were from. He had met Acacia whilst on a trip to Mirkwood, and they fell in love. Thacia, Ashiaro's older sister, had been born first, and ten years later, Ashiaro had been born. Shortly after Ashiaro was born, Thialmo had been killed in the war against Sauron, at the same battle that such as Elendil, Anárion and Gil- galad were killed.
Thacia was now a Ranger herself, though both she and her brother had chosen to be Elven-kind. She traveled throughout the east, and, as far as Ashiaro knew, she lived in Lothlórien, the fair land of Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel.
"Ashiaro," said a voice from behind him, taking Ashiaro out of his thoughts momentarily. Ashiaro turned to find Elrond standing behind him. He smiled at the peredhel, a grateful look in his bright, green eyes. After Thialmo had died and Acacia, returned to Mirkwood, Elrond had taken Ashiaro as his own son, raising him with the same care as he gave to Elladan and Elrohir, the twins, who were roughly one hundred years younger than he was.
"Yes, Ada?" Ashiaro asked. He had never really known his father, as he had only been about five-years-old when his father was killed. Most of the memories of his father were through the stories that Elrond or Glorfindel would tell him, or things that Elrond would give to him that once belonged to Thialmo, like his sword. Elrond had raised him with love and care, just like a father would.
"Be careful on your way to Mirkwood," Elrond warned. "The path is treacherous, and the weather is less than kind." He handed a small scroll to Ashiaro. "Keep this well," he said. "For it must go to Thranduil."
"Yes, Ada," Ashiaro said. He took the scroll gently in his hands and placed it in his bag. It was a smaller scroll than what Elrond would usually send to Thranduil, but it was probably even more important.
Elrond placed both hands on Ashiaro's shoulders. "Go well, my son," he said. He and Ashiaro embraced one another, and soon Ashiaro was off. On his way to Mirkwood.
Quickly, Ashiaro mounted his horse, Hasufel. Hasufel was a kind horse, though his previous owner had mistreated him, and Ashiaro had gained the horse's trust and friendship. It had taken several long months of constant struggle for both Hasufel and Ashiaro, but their companionship was well worth the effort.
"Noro lim, Hasufel," Ashiaro whispered to the horse. He had never really enjoyed horses, but Hasufel was different. He felt that somehow, the horse could sense his feelings, and this comforted him. Hasufel walked out of the stables and broke into a smooth canter. Ashiaro held tight, though he had no fear that Hasufel would let him fall. It had only happened once, and that was more Ashiaro's fault than that of Hasufel's.
/center
Mirkwood...
Miriel let her older brother comb her hair, even though she did not want to. Her golden hair fell past her shoulders, a tangled mess as her brother fought with her to brush it.
"Miriel," he told her in his soft voice. "Ada insists upon it." And he combed her tangled hair, tousled by the wind as she had run through the forest, trying to get away from her brother for a while.
"But, Legolas!" she whined. A sharp glare from Eruanneth, one of the servant girls, silenced her. 'Twas best not to protest, especially against one of Thranduil's orders. Miriel sighed, longingly staring out the window. She could hear her brother's voice, talking of tales from the wild, far away, but she was lost in her own little world.
Being a girl was no fun, she thought to herself. Her brother was always allowed go on adventures with his friends, but she was always stuck in the house. Thranduil, their father, had strict rules. She was not allowed to go into the forest by herself, save within sight of the Halls. She was not allowed to go outside in the nighttime at all. And, worst of all, she was confined to lessons with the other girls, learning how to sew and weave and other things that she did not wish to know how to do.
"Alright, Miriel," Legolas said, handing the comb back to his younger sister. Miriel snatched it from him and stormed out of the room before Legolas could do anything more. She ran to her room and slammed the door. Burying her face in a blanket, she started to cry.
A soft knock was barely heard on her door as Laurelin gently opened it up. Her soft complexion was calm and her light blue eyes glowed gently. Her golden hair was tied back loosely from her face. To most, Miriel looked like her mother, shining blue eyes glistening at any given moment, and long, blonde hair flying behind her as she ran.
"Please, Miriel," Laurelin began. She sat down on the bed beside her daughter, gently stroking Miriel's hair. The young Elf did not sit up, but only buried her face deeper into the blanket. "Your Adar does not want to make your life miserable. He only wishes to protect you."
Miriel thought to herself. To her, Thranduil's strict rules had never seemed to protect her. They only seemed to make her life miserable.
"But Naneth!" she said, sitting up to face her mother. Her tear-stained cheeks glistened, even in the dim lighting of the room.
Laurelin took her daughter into her arms, and wiped her eyes. "Miriel, dear," she began. "Lord Elrond Half-Elven of Rivendell is sending his adopted son with a message for your adar. Do you know where Rivendell is?"
Miriel nodded. She had learnt many things in school lessons from Eruanneth, not just how to sew and grow things. They had also learnt some history and geography of Middle-earth.
Laurelin continued. "It would be very inconsiderate if you did not at least greet him with courtesy," she said.
Miriel wiped her eyes and laid her head on her mother's shoulder. She rubbed her cheek against Laurelin's soft dress. Her mother loved her, even though she couldn't sit through even one of Eruanneth's lectures about the importance of keeping her stitches straight whilst sewing or not climbing up the trees. A gentle word from her mother made everything better. She sniffled and turned towards her mother.
"That's my girl." Laurelin kissed Miriel on the cheek and stood up. She walked over to the other side of the room and picked up Miriel's silvery- white dress. "Why don't you put this on?" she suggested.
Miriel nodded and wiped her eyes once again. She took her old tunic off and put her dress on. She liked the feel of the silk-like dress on her bare arms and legs.
Laurelin hugged her daughter gently. "You look like a princess, Miriel," she whispered. "Now, be the princess you look like." She walked out of the room and Miriel followed. They walked into the main hall, where Thranduil was scolding Legolas.
"Go prepare yourself, Legolas," he said in a strict voice. Common sense told Laurelin not to ask what had gone on between them. Oftentimes, Legolas would do something wrong, and Thranduil would get very upset, out of all respects, even. "A messenger from Elrond is coming this evening." Legolas nodded and ran to his room, and Thranduil turned to Laurelin, kissing her on the forehead.
/center
Ashiaro dismounted Hasufel, landing on both his feet gracefully. He stroked Hasufel gently along his mane. It was a good deal before dark when they finally arrived in Mirkwood.
He sighed. The journey had taken him longer than he thought it would, even though he had traveled south, through the Gap of Rohan. It probably did not help that he stopped in Rohan to visit Éomain, one of the Rohirrim, but it had only been for one night. Nearly a fortnight and a half had passed since he had left Rivendell.
"Come, Hasufel," he said, the reins wound loosely around his right hand. With is other hand, he fingered the hilt of Elieviana, wary of danger. In all truth, he missed his homeland of Rivendell, and longed to return. But first, he had to deliver the message to Thranduil-whatever the message was. The curiosity part of him wondered what Elrond had written for the King of Mirkwood. Shaking his head slowly, he scolded himself for even being the slightest bit curious. He walked slowly into the stables and left Hasufel there. "Later, my friend," he whispered to the horse. Hasufel whinnied and nuzzled Ashiaro's cheek.
"Suilad, mellon-nin!" came a voice from behind him. Startled because had had not heard anyone coming, Ashiaro turned quickly to find Legolas. He knew his cousin was one of the few Elves who would even try to make him feel welcome here.
Ashiaro let out a laugh, remembering that the wood elves were altogether noiseless in their movements. He wondered how long it would take him to fully realize this.
"It has been a long time since I have seen you," Ashiaro replied to Legolas. He smiled towards his friend.
"Ashiaro, mellon-nin, what do you say upon going to the halls?" asked Legolas. Right after Ashiaro nodded, the blonde Elf took his cousin by the hand and dragged him into the Hall where Thranduil sat.
Ashiaro, still only in his grey tunic and black leggings, his travel clothing, walked over to the other side of the Hall where Thranduil was sitting on his chair. Servants were seen, but there were few about. He knelt down near Thranduil's feet, his dark hair hanging down into his face.
"King Thranduil, m'lord." He placed the scroll in Thranduil's hands. "Tis from Elrond." Thranduil did not say anything; he simply nodded and took it out of Ashiaro's hands. Ashiaro bowed slightly and rose to his feet once again. As he started to leave, Laurelin caught his attention.
"Ashiaro," she said. Ashiaro stopped. Her voice sounded shockingly like his mother's had. If he closed his eyes, it could almost be Acacia. His ears twitched and he shook his head. "Have you met out daughter and son yet? I am sure you have met Legolas."
Ashiaro nodded. He and Legolas had been friends for a few years; their friendship had originated out of the desire to get the identical twins (Elladan and Elrohir) back for several practical jokes that had been played on them during one of Legolas's visits to Rivendell. It had never really been a close friendship, but the purpose was more to avoid pranks than anything else. Nevertheless, both Ashiaro and Legolas enjoyed the other's company.
"I have met Legolas, but I have not met your daughter," he said. iIf she is anything like her brother, then life here is NOT going to be easy,/i he thought to himself.
Laurelin smiled. "This is Miriel," she said, placing a hand on Miriel's shoulder. She gave her daughter a slight push towards Ashiaro.
Miriel smiled politely, but it was obvious that she did not care for Ashiaro. iHe's one of my brother's friends,/i she thought to herself. iHow can he ever be one of mine? /i"Suilad," she said, playing with one of her braids.
"I am sure you will become the best of friends," Laurelin smiled. To Miriel, she whispered, "Show him around, please. I need to speak alone with your adar about something."
Miriel started to protest, but Laurelin had already left. She didn't know why her brother couldn't show Ashiaro around Mirkwood. After all, her brother was his friend.
To Miriel's relief, it was Ashiaro who spoke first. "What do you do in Mirkwood?" he asked.
Miriel took him by the arm. She deliberately avoided his question. If he found out what she really did all day, he would probably fall asleep out of boredom within the first five seconds of her answer. "I'll take you to your room," she said, her voice not her own. "It's near my brother's room."
Ashiaro nodded gratefully and followed Miriel to a room near Legolas's room. It was fairly small, but large enough for him and the few things that he brought with him. A clean green tunic and brown leggings were laid out neatly on the bed.
"I'll leave you to change and unpack all of your things," Miriel said, shutting the door behind her as she left the room.
Ashiaro sat down on the bed and took off his cloak and shoes. It had been a long ride, even stopping in Rohan briefly to see Éomain. Nearly a fortnight had passed since he had been in Rivendell. His home. Sighing to himself, he changed his clothes, out of his dirty, travel-worn tunic and leggings and into those that had been provided by Thranduil. He undid his braids and combed though his hair with his fingers. He put his head back on the pillow. Before he knew it, he had fallen asleep.
iNext Part Coming Soon!
Elizabeth/i