This story is entirely fiction created by me EXCEPT the enchanting
characters invented by the brilliant J.R.R Tolkein who I have borrowed.
The songs (and it's not like you could ever mistake them for his) are made
up by me. Hope you enjoy, please tell me what you think and review. Even if
you think it's rubbish please tell me, all comments are gratefully
received, just don't make them too harsh!
While there is light, there is hope.
1. "All the darkness in the world cannot extinguish the light of one candle"
Arwen stood in the warm evening light, her raven hair flowing behind her in the soft breeze. Her blue eyes shone like crystals and sparkled as though each one was made up of millions of diamonds. Her oval face was flawless and her complexion was of porcelain. About her neck hung a silver chain, a blue stone as pure as her eyes dangled below it. Her raiment was a deep blue mantle with a pattern of delicate silver flowers and leaves embroidered about the neck, hem and cuffs. Her dainty feet were slippered as she stood upon the terrace. Two soft hands with long fingers rested upon her swollen belly. Soon, the child would arrive soon. They must be patient.
Her noble husband came out of the door behind her. The gentle breeze tugged at his dark hair also and his grey eyes shone in the setting sun. He wore a tunic of olive green tied about the middle with a grey, elven rope. About his neck hung a silver chain also but from his hung a green stone set in silver, fashioned to resemble eagle wings. He approached her from the back but he knew she would hear him coming. As he came closer he wrapped his battle worn arms about her extended stomach. He parted her hair with his chin and nuzzled soft kisses to her neck. He to was impatient.
A little way behind them stood an unseen figure, hidden by the evening shadows. The figure was that of a young woman, slender and mortal, born of the race of men. Her hair was a deep shade of brown and her eyes burned green, like a jealous fire. She was dressed in a long grey robe covered by a floor length apron. She would make them pay, both of them. They would not see that child, she would make sure of it.
Slowly she slipped back to the palace kitchens where she worked, she was not treated cruelly and her pay was good. To her home she would be loyal but that baby did not deserve to be brought into this world. True, it was newly made clean and good but no child deserved parents like that.
As she prepared the Queen's evening drink she gently fingered the small vial that hung about her neck. When she was certain that no-one could espy her she unfastened the chain from which the vile hung and tipped it's deep purple contents into the cup.
The maid took the drink to Arwen's chamber. The queen drank swiftly, she felt no need to distrust her people, this particular young elf had ever been loyal to her. As she placed the cup back on the tray she felt the baby kick.
The young kitchen maid, Tanwenial, hummed softly to herself as she climbed to her bed,
Sleep little child,
Swiftly to dreams,
Hush your cries,
Your mother sings,
Her voice is like light,
Powerful and soft,
Ever in your ears,
Even when she is gone.
While there is light, there is hope.
1. "All the darkness in the world cannot extinguish the light of one candle"
Arwen stood in the warm evening light, her raven hair flowing behind her in the soft breeze. Her blue eyes shone like crystals and sparkled as though each one was made up of millions of diamonds. Her oval face was flawless and her complexion was of porcelain. About her neck hung a silver chain, a blue stone as pure as her eyes dangled below it. Her raiment was a deep blue mantle with a pattern of delicate silver flowers and leaves embroidered about the neck, hem and cuffs. Her dainty feet were slippered as she stood upon the terrace. Two soft hands with long fingers rested upon her swollen belly. Soon, the child would arrive soon. They must be patient.
Her noble husband came out of the door behind her. The gentle breeze tugged at his dark hair also and his grey eyes shone in the setting sun. He wore a tunic of olive green tied about the middle with a grey, elven rope. About his neck hung a silver chain also but from his hung a green stone set in silver, fashioned to resemble eagle wings. He approached her from the back but he knew she would hear him coming. As he came closer he wrapped his battle worn arms about her extended stomach. He parted her hair with his chin and nuzzled soft kisses to her neck. He to was impatient.
A little way behind them stood an unseen figure, hidden by the evening shadows. The figure was that of a young woman, slender and mortal, born of the race of men. Her hair was a deep shade of brown and her eyes burned green, like a jealous fire. She was dressed in a long grey robe covered by a floor length apron. She would make them pay, both of them. They would not see that child, she would make sure of it.
Slowly she slipped back to the palace kitchens where she worked, she was not treated cruelly and her pay was good. To her home she would be loyal but that baby did not deserve to be brought into this world. True, it was newly made clean and good but no child deserved parents like that.
As she prepared the Queen's evening drink she gently fingered the small vial that hung about her neck. When she was certain that no-one could espy her she unfastened the chain from which the vile hung and tipped it's deep purple contents into the cup.
The maid took the drink to Arwen's chamber. The queen drank swiftly, she felt no need to distrust her people, this particular young elf had ever been loyal to her. As she placed the cup back on the tray she felt the baby kick.
The young kitchen maid, Tanwenial, hummed softly to herself as she climbed to her bed,
Sleep little child,
Swiftly to dreams,
Hush your cries,
Your mother sings,
Her voice is like light,
Powerful and soft,
Ever in your ears,
Even when she is gone.