A/N: Okay, so first and foremost, let me state my intentions with this fic: I want to write it well, and have a good plot and storyline for it. I also want to have my OC (Yes, I know *groan*) be as believable and non-Mary Sue as possible. So with that being said, romance is definitely NOT at the forefront of this story. It'll be more like a little something extra, like sprinkles on icecream.
This is also not going to be a fic where my main character is from this world and finds out she's an elf, or is a tenth walker, or anything like that.
Chapter 1
"Cellineth, what are you doing out here at this late hour?" Arwen asked her friend, coming beside her and leaning on the railing of a secluded garden in Rivendell. "You must be cold."
"You know I love looking at the stars during winter, Arwen," Cellineth said, looking up at the sky, which was dotted with the shining specks of light. Cellineth had always been fond of the coolness and quiet that came with the night. It gave her a chance to reflect on the day and prepare herself for the next.
Because Elves didn't sleep, night was usually reserved for reading quietly or having a pleasant conversation with family, if you had one. Most of the younger Elves would get together at night and listen to music and recite poetry. Occasionally, if he was feeling sprightly, Mr. Bilbo Baggins would make an appearance and grace them all with a new poem.
Cellineth and Arwen had both just come from such a gathering, which was still going on, but Cellineth had excused herself to get a breath of fresh air, and apparently Arwen had followed her a few minutes after.
"I am surprised you didn't bring your harp," Arwen said, pushing herself away from the railing, her gaze tilted upward to better view the skies.
Cellineth smiled at Arwen. "I didn't much feel like it tonight. I was more interested in listening, and lucky I chose tonight, too, or else I would have missed Mr. Baggins. You know I can't pay attention before I play." Arwen laughed.
"I know. But I still wonder at the fact that you have been playing your whole life, and so well, and yet you still get nerves."
"You know I only play as well as I do because of the effort I put in. Do you remember how truly awful I was when I first began?" Cellineth asked, smiling at her friend. "Or have you forgotten how we met?"
"I could not forget, even if I tried," Arwen said. "My Lord Father was taking me to see your mother for musical training, and you were learning your instrument-was that your first lesson or not?" Arwen asked, and Cellineth nodded. "And you were terrible, it's true, but you seemed so focused on playing. And I knew then and there I wanted you as my friend." Both young women laughed.
"And here we were," said Cellineth. "Somewhere around 2,500 years later, and we are still friends."
"It is a marvel," agreed Arwen. "Especially considering how stubborn you are about certain things."
"If you're referring to that incident with Triwathon, I apologized for that many times over, and you know I've never been more happy to be wrong about something," Cellineth said, looking at Arwen pointedly, though she couldn't completely hide her smile. "I just wish you would have said something!"
Arwen laughed merrily. "And why should I have? You wouldn't have listened anyway." Cellineth scoffed and took Arwen's arm, leading her back inside.
"I may have, but now I suppose we'll never know."
The young women settled on a pair of chairs, listening quietly to a gentle flute melody for a moment and speaking softly with one another before Cellineth excused herself as the dawn crept over the horizon.
Splashing cool water on her face, Cellineth looked in a mirror , patting her face dry with a fresh piece of cloth. She sighed, taking her hair out of the long braid she had put it in at some point during the night, having gotten tired of having it in her face. Now, she took out a few tangles with her fingers before tying it back so it was out of her face but lay on her back in soft waves.
Cellineth had always considered her hair one of her few beauties. Like all Elves, she was fair of face, but she had certainly never aspired to be any great beauty. That was Arwen's quarter, she thought with a wry smile. Not that Cellineth minded in the least. Arwen was beautiful, she had even heard it said that she was the most beautiful, but Elrond's daughter was not vain. She was kindhearted, and gentle, and thoughtful with what she spoke. Cellineth couldn't have asked for a better friend.
There was a soft knocking at her door, and Cellineth stood up.
"Minna," she said, and the door opened and a young elf, not quite 200 years of age, poked his head in.
"You did say 'enter', did you not?" he asked quietly.
Cellineth chuckled. "I did, Aewon," she said, using a name she had come up with for him after she had started teaching him how to play the harp. His given name was Uiloson, but he was so timid when they first met that she had called him 'little bird' as a jest, and the name had stuck.
She had unofficially become a mentor to him, and she was more than pleased to see that the excellence with which he pursued his instrument was now beginning to seep into other aspects of his life as well. He was becoming more bold by the day, and doing things that surprised even himself. Aewon had come to her just the other day, explaining enthusiastically how he and two or three others close to his own age had all agreed to journey to Lothlórien and study there for a number of years.
Cellineth had been to Lothlórien a handful of times, and to Mirkwood once. She had found Lothlórien quite beautiful to behold, and Mirkwood she had found enchanting in a haunting way. She wished to visit Mirkwood again; they had music such as she had never heard before. When Cellineth had asked a musician about it, he had told her that it came from 'the mouth of the forest.' She would have asked him what, precisely, he had meant, but he had been hailed by a companion of his, and Cellineth was left wanting an explanation.
"Did you do as I asked, Aewon?" she inquired, bringing herself out of her thoughts.
"Played in a garden, you mean? Yes, I did, though I don't really see what the purpose in that exercise was. I play often in the gardens-you know that." He looked at her quizzically, wanting an explanation.
"Uiloson, I can ask nothing new of you," Cellineth said, looking at him. "You have been under my tutelage for nigh on one-hundred years now. You play nearly as well as I do. I can't teach you anything else, really. If you want to further your craft still, it would be best to go South and learn from those in Mirkwood or Lórien. I did not become the musician you see before you now by limiting myself to only one teacher. You should go and learn what you can elsewhere. Weren't you just telling me not a month ago how you wanted to go? As well you should."
"You should come, then," Aewon said. "And stay in Mirkwood; your company would be very welcome." She shook her head.
"No, it is not yet time for me to travel to Mirkwood again." She paused, smiling at him. "Go, now, and make your plans. But write to me of all that you learn. You may not be my pupil any more, but that does not mean you should stop learning."
Aewon stood and smiled at her before walking out her door with a skip in his step. Cellineth watched the door shut, and heard her student's hurried footsteps down the corridor. She would miss him, but Uiloson was coming into a new season of his life, one that she was not meant to be a part of. At least, not a large part.
One-hundred years was not a terribly long time to have known someone, looking at the lifespan of an Elf, but Cellineth had grown very fond of Aewon, and she would miss him.
To keep her thoughts from becoming too melancholy, Cellineth decided to pass the time by brushing up on her weaponry. It had been some days since she had touched any of her weapons. Standing, she slung her longbow over her shoulder along with a quiver of arrows, and a sling that she had made years ago. Cellineth had never been a student of war, or of strategy, but she had always seen it as wise to be able to defend herself should the need arise.
She tightened up the lacing on her boots before shutting the door to her dwelling behind her. As she walked down a mossy slope, a lone horse and rider came into view. Cellineth's keen eyesight allowed her the knowledge that the rider was Elven, so she was not worried. She raised a hand to hail him, and the gesture was returned. She smiled and quickened her pace.
"Greetings, stranger!" she called, seeing now that he was fair of hair and of face, though his age was impossible to tell. He looked to be tall and lean, and had the air of a soldier about him. She thought that slightly strange for a messenger, but she supposed it would not be that odd for a soldier to be bringing some sort of news.
"Greetings," he returned less cheerily, once he was within adequate speaking range. "You will forgive my lack of courtesy, but I must be on my way. I come with news for Lord Elrond."
Cellineth stepped out of his way. "Make haste, then!" she bade him, and he continued on his way, glancing back once to offer his thanks of her understanding. It was not uncommon for messengers to come with news for Lord Elrond, especially in recent days.
There had been whispers of movement in the East. Some feared that evil was stirring again in Mordor, while others insisted that that was entirely improbable. Sauron had been defeated, as had Morgoth, long ago. For evil to remain dormant for so long a period of time before resurfacing was highly unlikely, and almost unheard of.
Cellineth wasn't sure what she thought of the rumors that were flying around. There had been an unsettling within Middle-Earth, to be sure. The animals and the earth had been unbalanced themselves, and it was making everyone in Rivendell uneasy. There had been murmurs of an unwellness within Mirkwood as well, but they had not as yet been confirmed.
Cellineth had decided some time ago not to worry herself about it; if there was a darkness stirring in the east... She wasn't in a position of power, so what would be done wouldn't be her decision, at any rate. She would do what was asked of her, should the need arise. And Cellineth seriously doubted that she would be called upon for her skill as a musician, thus the archery and sling practice.
Taking in the smell of the deciduous forest she was in, she set her sling down on the ground next to her and unslung her longbow, and nocking an arrow, she took aim, checked her form, and took her shot. Her arrow hit its mark; she knew it would, but she wasn't impressed. Cellineth was no great archer or warrior. It was true she could be any mortal in combat, but then the Elves didn't compare themselves to Men or Dwarves. "Your only competitor should be yourself," was a common saying in Elvish culture, though rarely executed. It was not uncommon for Elves to have a friendly competition, especially the younger ones who wished to test their mettle.
A cool breeze lifted Cellineth's dark ashy hair slightly and she closed her eyes to savor the feeling of the air tickling her skin. She rubbed the gooseflesh away and nocked another arrow to her bowstring. She let off several in succession, noting that they were consistently clustered together. Her aim may not have been what she wished it, but it was consistent.
She spent the remainder of the day in the grove by herself, honing her skills, enjoying the solitude. The sun was just touching the horizon when Cellineth finally set her feet on the cobblestone roads of Rivendell. She disliked the feeling of the rock against her feet, and so her pace was brisk. Cellineth knew she belonged in a place like Mirkwood or Lothlórien, where she could spend most of her days alone with her harp and listen to the flitting of animals in the wood around her.
It wasn't at all the she didn't love Rivendell or its people. Cellineth knew that once her mother went into the undying lands, as her father had done almost one hundred seventy years before, she would see their memory everywhere she went, and that was not a type of pain she wished to endure. Cellineth loved Rivendell very much; almost too much, it seemed.
Continuing on her way, greeting acquaintances and friends as she went, Cellineth took in again the beauty of her home. She loved the brooks that could be heard babbling almost everywhere, and the scent of grass and earth that permeated anything and everything, and the gentle murmur of discussion as her people spoke amongst themselves.
"Master Baggins," Cellineth greeted the back of his head as he walked slowly along with a very stout looking walking stick. Bilbo turned around, a smile on his face.
"Why, Cellineth, what a surprise this is. I feel as if we haven't spoken in ages," the old hobbit said, leaning on his stick as he looked up at her fondly. The elleth smiled warmly at him.
"Don't make me feel poorly, Master Baggins," she said, looking at him pointedly, though it was clear she was jesting. "You know as well as I that it's only been a fortnight."
"So it has, so it has." Bilbo smiled, and a thought seemed to strike him suddenly, and he took a great breath before speaking again. "You wouldn't happen to have time to play for me while I write a little ditty, would you?" he asked.
"I was on my way to see my mother, but after I am done there I should be more than happy to oblige," Cellineth offered. She knew that it could takes hours for Bilbo to get a verse precisely the way he wanted it. Not that Cellineth didn't have time for the Hobbit, but she did have her priorities.
"No, no, no. That won't do," Bilbo said, waving his hand dismissively. "I'll have to find another. Words fly from my head these days as quickly as they used to come into it, and once they're gone-poof!- I never see them again." He chuckled, though he looked rather upset.
"I wish you the best of luck, then, Master Baggins, in finding an accompanist. Now, I must be off before I forget my own purpose. I'm sure I'll be seeing you shortly." She bid him farewell, though he was muttering to himself in an attempt to retain what she assumed was his "little ditty", and didn't pay her any mind.
Cellineth was very fond of Bilbo, she realized as she rounded a corner that led to a small archway, which, in turn, led to a great library. There she knew she would find her mother, most likely with a book in her hands and her thoughts far away.
She was not far off. Her mother did indeed have a book in her hands, but her eyes were sharper than Cellineth had seen them be in years.
"Naneth," she said, passing rows of neatly shelved books to come and sit beside her mother. "You look well today."
"I am feeling well," Amarel agreed, taking her daughter's hand in her own with a firm grip. Cellineth looked at her mother with some apprehension; she felt she knew what was coming.
"Mother..." Cellineth said, looking at the ground. She could not allow herself to discourage her mother from heading West. Wasn't it what she had wished for her for some time now? Her mother was old, an elder even to Lord Elrond. Cellineth's parents had not had her in their youth. They had waited patiently until they felt all was at peace in Middle-Earth before committing to raising a child. And so, despite Cellineth's relatively young age, she had already said goodbye to one, and was now preparing to say goodbye to another.
"It is time I left, Cellineth," Amarel said, squeezing her daughter's hand in her own. "I am burdened here with the cares of the earth. It is changing, and I am not as flexible as I once was."
"I understand," Cellineth said, looking up at her mother and smiling weakly. "You miss Adar." Amarel smiled.
"I do. And I love you also, but you have ages ahead, Cellineth, and mine have already passed. Let me go, and you will be happier for it." Cellineth nodded, and opened her mouth to reply, but her mother continued, "Lord Elrond has arranged for a grey ship to bear me away... I would ask that you refrain from being there when I leave."
Cellineth's head snapped up, and she met her mother's eyes with poorly concealed pain.
"You know that the sea called your brother home when we all said farewell to your father that day. I would not have the same happen to you. It is not yet your time."
Cellineth understood her fear. When her father had left, her mother, her older brother, and herself had all stood on the docks, Baulon had stepped away from his family, toward the ship.
"I hear it, it's calling me," was all he had said before he, too, stepped onto the ship that would bear him away. Amarel had never been the same since, and Cellineth thought that the unexpected departure of Baulon had caused her much grief.
"Whatever you wish, Naneth," Cellineth promised. "I will honor it." Amarel smiled gently.
"Go," she said, drawing her hands away from Cellineth's carefully. "You will need to prepare for your journey south."
"South?" Cellineth said, her brow furrowing together. "I don't believe it necessary for me to leave Rivendell, Mother."
"You said you would honor my wish," Amarel said firmly, though not unkindly. "Now ready yourself to travel south to one of the Great Woods there. I think it will be good for you."
Her mother's words stung. It was enough that she would not be there to say her final goodbye, but now she was being completely excused from her home as well. She knew her mother was doing it for her protection. But at the same time, Cellineth didn't understand why, if her mother seemed to fear the sea so, she was going to journey across it.
Love, she supposed. After her father and brother had departed, Amarel had never been the same. Cellineth later wished her mother had gone with them. She hated seeing her so hollow-a former shell of herself, really. She couldn't begrudge her for staying either. Amarel loved her daughter, but they had never been particularly close, and Cellineth suspected she had stayed more out of duty than love.
She had always been close with her father; he had spoiled her over much when she was young, and her mother had done the same with Baulon. Or at least that is what Cellineth had been told. She was nearly 200 years younger than Baulon was, and he had already matured well past childhood when she had been born. He had been very fond of her, as far as older brothers go. She had felt their age gap keenly before she had come of age, but as they had both gotten older, she had felt more closely connected with him.
And now, soon, she would have none of them. She knew it was selfish of her to wish for her mother to stay, and so she pushed it as far away from her thoughts as possible. Asking for her to stay was totally out of-no. She mustn't go there. She could not entertain thoughts and ideas that were impossible.
"I will be gone before dawn tomorrow," Cellineth promised, standing. "Safe travels, Mother." Her tone was a little harsher than she had meant for it to be, but there was no softening
"Cellineth..."
"Really, Naneth, I will be fine. Go, and travel with peace, with the wind to your back and the sun to your face. Nínion ne gwad gîn." Cellineth smiled then, and tried to make it looked as relaxed and natural as she could. The formal farewell seemed to ease her mother's countenace, and for that Cellineth was grateful.
"Novaer," Amarel said as Cellineth retreated back the direction she had come from.
She would go to Lothlórien, and make a home for herself there. Cellineth felt she could be truly happy there, if she tried. And she would try to be happy there, she was certain.
She took comfort in the steady beat of her heart. It told her that she was handling the enormously sudden change well, and she was confident she would move past it quickly. Her breathing was deep and even, which was also well in her mind. Yes, she was handling it well.
So lost was Cellineth in her thoughts that she did not notice someone watching her intently as she made her way to her bedchamber. And when she was followed, she did not take much notice of it, because there were always other Elves mingling about, doing their own business.
Cellineth stopped and took a deep breath outside her door, leaning her head against it in order to collect her thoughts. She felt a hand being placed gently on her shoulder, and she looked up and was relieved to find it was Arwen.
"Are you well?" she asked as Cellineth opened her door and gestured for Arwen to follow her in. Arwen stepped into the room, graceful as ever, and looked at her friend, waiting for an explanation.
"Mother has decided to make her sea-journey," Cellineth explained, shutting the door behind her and looking around the room, trying to decide what was essential to take and what was not. "She has asked me to leave Rivendell and head South so I am not prematurely tempted by the sea myself. I have agreed." She smiled wistfully and looked at her friend then, knowing she would understand.
"She is only trying to do what she feels is best," Arwen said, smoothing out the fabric of her dress before sitting down on a chair made of willow wood. "When do you leave?"
"With the dawn," Cellineth said, laying a pack out on her bed, as well as a pair of saddlebags. She brought out two dresses and three tunics, leggings and riding breeches. She glanced at Arwen, seeing the surprise written on her face. "Had I known sooner than mere moments ago, I would have told you."
"Of course," Arwen said, standing to fold and neatly place Cellineth's things that she had laid out in her pack. "Will you go to Lothlórien?"
"Yes, that is my intention," Cellineth replied, nodding, before placing her lyre in a hard leather case to protect it from the journey ahead. She could not take her harp, so her lyre would have to do. "Give my harp to Uiloson, would you, please?" Arwen nodded and continued folding the fabrics.
"Yes, I will. I am going to miss you dearly," she said, pausing her work to take Cellineth's hands in her own. "Are you sure Lórien is the right place for you? Perhaps Mirkwood..?" she ventured, gazing at Cellineth in earnest.
"No, I would go to Lórien at this time. I am ready," Cellineth assured her. She knew that Arwen was only concerned for her because Haldir was there.
Cellineth had met Haldir the last time she had been in Lothlórien, over a thousand years ago, now. Her parents had sent her South to 'expand her horizons and further her musical knowledge.' She had met Haldir within the first few weeks of her arrival, and they had developed a fast friendship, which had quickly evolved into a romance. They had been a fine match, she and Haldir. Everyone had said as much, and she had known it, too. Neither of them had been afraid or shy about their affections, but when Cellineth's time came to go back to Rivendell, he had not asked her to stay, and so she went. They had corresponded for a number of years, but that had dwindled until it stopped altogether.
Cellineth could feel Arwen studying her closely, but she chose to ignore it, saying, "I crossed paths today with a messenger who said he bore news for your father. Do you know if he received it?"
"Yes, I was there when he received it, in fact. Though it was not good news, I'm afraid. The messenger was Legolas Greenleaf, bringing news from his father that the creature Gollum had escaped Mirkwood, and he is nowhere to be found," Arwen said, shaking her head slightly. "He had help escaping, or else he would not have managed it."
"Legolas? That is dark news, indeed, if Thranduil would send his own son," agreed Cellineth, tying up her pack and securing her saddlebag buckles. "...I will write to you."
Arwen smiled lightly. "I know you will. Travel safely, Cellineth... And please, do not get lost!" The pair laughed for a moment and embraced before separating.
"I should depart," Cellineth said, suddenly reluctant to go. Her whole life was here. She supposed she could come back in a few months' time, after her mother had been safely borne away. She mentally checked that she had everything she needed in the way of provisions, and finding that she did, said farewell to Arwen before heading to where her horse was stabled.
The sun had set, and Cellineth wondered briefly at her own rashness. Travelling at night was dangerous enough, but to travel alone and at night was unwise. Still, her pride prevented her from turning back as she walked into the stable. The quiet munching sounds coming from the horses as they ate straw, and the swishing of their tails and the stamping of their feet had a calming effect on Cellineth.
There were lanterns hanging from the rafters, so the stable was illuminated softly and she could see quite clearly. Cellineth noticed a groom sitting on the ground, reading a book of poetry. She murmured a greeting to him as she set her things down outside of a stall, which he returned politely. She unlatched the stall door which she had placed her provisions near, and was greeted with a whicker from a dapple grey mare. the horse had fine lines, and a long sloping neck. She had been a gift from her mother only recently. Cellineth stroked the mare's neck affectionately.
"We are going on a journey, Sirdal," Cellineth whispered. "I must get you ready." She slipped a bridle over the mare's ears, and placed a blanket and a light, thin saddle on her back before leading her out of the stable. Cellineth secured her provisions before mounting.
The night seemed to swallow her wholly as she rode away from the light of the stable, leaving her home behind.
A/N: Well, there's Chapter one! Hope you enjoyed reading it. Sorry if it was terribly long. I was attempting to get in relevant information and find a good stopping point.
For my Elvish phrases that came up, I used . I didn't do any of it myself. Also I don't own the world of Middle-Earth, or any of the characters her created.
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