Disclaimers: I don't own Rivendell, Middle Earth, Barad-dur, Orcs, or
Lindir. I only claim Lanthiriel, who is of my own creation. I'm not making
any money off of this, so don't sue me.
Time: Late night, before the war of the ring. Setting: Imladris, in the woods around it. What you need to know: Um, this comes out of a very traumatic experience that Lanthiriel had in Barad-dur. I'm not going to tell you the person she's thinking about, because you would probably be scared of me. ::grin::
"Hands"
A sudden chilling wind, muffled only slightly by trees, passed through the thin fabric of her gown and froze her very marrow. The tears on her cheeks seemed to turn to ice the moment they hit the air, but she didn't notice. Her body felt the cold, but her mind did not..Her mind still wandered the dark halls of Barad-dur, her nose still smelled the foul sweat of orcs, but her eyes.her eyes still saw his. Not as she first saw them, but when she last met their gaze. Warm, liquid, saddened, but resolute. Her own eyes still mirrored the tears she saw in his that fateful night, which seemed so long ago. The sound of his voice filled echoed in her mind. She recalled the low, melodious tones, and the feel of her hands enclosed in his. Her hands! The smooth, white, flawless skin had been replaced with a roughened and scarred flesh. They were the sort of hands that come from years upon years of hard labor, but she had acquired them in as little as two months. She looked down now at those hands which used to be a pride to her, and traced the scars on her palm with a slender finger. As she stared, and as her tears dropped onto her skin, she saw something red appear at the fingertips. It was covering her hands now, red, red blood pouring from her fingers and trickling down her arms. And not her blood, no, his! Elbereth, his blood! She cried out in anguish at the vision. Her tears were coming faster now, and her body was shaking hard with sobs struggling out of her throat. She bit down on her lip to quiet the sound.she tasted it! It went down her throat, choking, strangling..Her mind screamed for it to stop! But her hands were clean, now. I'll die, she thought, I'll die of this! I cannot bear it any longer! She hugged her knees to her chest, shuddering, shaking, and sobbing, but as she sat there wrapped in her dark dreams and blanket of night, a sound came to her ears. This she wasn't imagining.pure and golden, it cut through the darkness like a knife. It was music, a voice singing. It shook her out of her reverie, and as she listened to the floating melody, slowly, her tears stopped. The violent, racking sobs that shook her body were calmed, and her breath began to come more easily in her chest. The song was a familiar hymn to Elbereth, sung to a melancholy tune, which was frequently heard in Imladris. "A Elbereth, Gilthoniel! Silivren penna miriel." Star Queen, Star Kindler! Stars.there were stars, she remembered. Bright, clear stars that shone down upon her tear streaked face through the black velvet night. Stars never felt pain; their light could not be quenched. She pulled herself to her feet and looked above her into the heavens. In her misery, she had forgotten the stars, the one thing she always knew she could depend on for comfort. As she looked, her feet carried her away, and the voice seemed to come nearer. Or was she coming nearer? Now, she consciously followed the sound. She passed through trees, pushing aside stray branches, her feet not making a sound or an imprint. At length, she came to a brook, which, a few feet down would pour into the river Bruinen. There was a railing on the ledge, directly to the side of a waterfall, and a platform, which extended from one of the many facets of the last Homely House. There, leaning upon the railing, and singing the sweet melody, was the owner of the voice. She stood behind him, peering from a distance, and it seemed to her that he must be an angel. A golden light shone about him, a light that reflected the colour of his hair. He was tall and slenderly built, and his silver grey cloak shimmered in the moonlight. His voice floated along the last phrase of the song, and so enraptured was she in the singer that she found herself whispering the words along with him. Although she had sung it softly enough, it was clear to elvish hearing, and the singer turned before she could again hide herself in shadow. It had not been her intention to be seen.He gazed across at her without alarm, only mild curiosity. Now, she saw his face. It was pale and smooth as the moon on a cloudless night, and his eyes were of a deep blue as bright as the stars of Elbereth of which he sung. She felt so small and slight next to his majestic beauty, and she became all too conscious of her tear-streaked face. Her roughened hands she attempted to hide behind her back. They stood there many moments looking at each other, before she spoke. "Please.will you sing again?" He said nothing and she continued. "I apologize for disturbing you.I heard your song." she fell silent. He closed some of the distance between them, and with a calm countenance, studied her face with gentle, searching eyes. "Why do you cry?" His steady gaze made her shiver.she dropped her eyes to the ground. "My heart is aching, Lord." She spoke quietly. "I have suffered greatly, and lost a part of myself, and for that I weep. Your song came to me through the trees, and it eased my heart." "Eased it perhaps.but not healed." His speech was as soothing and musical as his song. I see the pain still in your eyes. It quenches their light, Nienna, but not their wisdom." "Why do you call me by that name? For that is not mine. I am called Lanthiriel." He smiled a gentle smile. "I call you Nienna, Lady, for the Vala by that name. She is said to be a lady noble and fair, but she weeps for the injustices and pains of the world. What you said just then reminded me of her." She moved her eyes to the ground, and dared this time to meet his penetrating gaze. "You have yet to tell me your name, Lord." "I am Lindir." He bowed. She smiled. "A name that well suits you! Elen sila 'lummen ommentievlo, Lindir. A star shines on the hour of our meeting, Singing Watcher. "Then, daughter of the water fall, let us watch that star together, for it shines only for a little while more. " Now, the gentle hand of Lindir of Imladris was held out to Lanthiriel Tindome. She looked up into his star-like eyes, and there found a warmth greater than any her heart had felt. She placed her roughened hand upon his smooth one. He closed his hand around her fingers with a silent strength, and together they stood in the moonlight and gazed at the stars.
Time: Late night, before the war of the ring. Setting: Imladris, in the woods around it. What you need to know: Um, this comes out of a very traumatic experience that Lanthiriel had in Barad-dur. I'm not going to tell you the person she's thinking about, because you would probably be scared of me. ::grin::
"Hands"
A sudden chilling wind, muffled only slightly by trees, passed through the thin fabric of her gown and froze her very marrow. The tears on her cheeks seemed to turn to ice the moment they hit the air, but she didn't notice. Her body felt the cold, but her mind did not..Her mind still wandered the dark halls of Barad-dur, her nose still smelled the foul sweat of orcs, but her eyes.her eyes still saw his. Not as she first saw them, but when she last met their gaze. Warm, liquid, saddened, but resolute. Her own eyes still mirrored the tears she saw in his that fateful night, which seemed so long ago. The sound of his voice filled echoed in her mind. She recalled the low, melodious tones, and the feel of her hands enclosed in his. Her hands! The smooth, white, flawless skin had been replaced with a roughened and scarred flesh. They were the sort of hands that come from years upon years of hard labor, but she had acquired them in as little as two months. She looked down now at those hands which used to be a pride to her, and traced the scars on her palm with a slender finger. As she stared, and as her tears dropped onto her skin, she saw something red appear at the fingertips. It was covering her hands now, red, red blood pouring from her fingers and trickling down her arms. And not her blood, no, his! Elbereth, his blood! She cried out in anguish at the vision. Her tears were coming faster now, and her body was shaking hard with sobs struggling out of her throat. She bit down on her lip to quiet the sound.she tasted it! It went down her throat, choking, strangling..Her mind screamed for it to stop! But her hands were clean, now. I'll die, she thought, I'll die of this! I cannot bear it any longer! She hugged her knees to her chest, shuddering, shaking, and sobbing, but as she sat there wrapped in her dark dreams and blanket of night, a sound came to her ears. This she wasn't imagining.pure and golden, it cut through the darkness like a knife. It was music, a voice singing. It shook her out of her reverie, and as she listened to the floating melody, slowly, her tears stopped. The violent, racking sobs that shook her body were calmed, and her breath began to come more easily in her chest. The song was a familiar hymn to Elbereth, sung to a melancholy tune, which was frequently heard in Imladris. "A Elbereth, Gilthoniel! Silivren penna miriel." Star Queen, Star Kindler! Stars.there were stars, she remembered. Bright, clear stars that shone down upon her tear streaked face through the black velvet night. Stars never felt pain; their light could not be quenched. She pulled herself to her feet and looked above her into the heavens. In her misery, she had forgotten the stars, the one thing she always knew she could depend on for comfort. As she looked, her feet carried her away, and the voice seemed to come nearer. Or was she coming nearer? Now, she consciously followed the sound. She passed through trees, pushing aside stray branches, her feet not making a sound or an imprint. At length, she came to a brook, which, a few feet down would pour into the river Bruinen. There was a railing on the ledge, directly to the side of a waterfall, and a platform, which extended from one of the many facets of the last Homely House. There, leaning upon the railing, and singing the sweet melody, was the owner of the voice. She stood behind him, peering from a distance, and it seemed to her that he must be an angel. A golden light shone about him, a light that reflected the colour of his hair. He was tall and slenderly built, and his silver grey cloak shimmered in the moonlight. His voice floated along the last phrase of the song, and so enraptured was she in the singer that she found herself whispering the words along with him. Although she had sung it softly enough, it was clear to elvish hearing, and the singer turned before she could again hide herself in shadow. It had not been her intention to be seen.He gazed across at her without alarm, only mild curiosity. Now, she saw his face. It was pale and smooth as the moon on a cloudless night, and his eyes were of a deep blue as bright as the stars of Elbereth of which he sung. She felt so small and slight next to his majestic beauty, and she became all too conscious of her tear-streaked face. Her roughened hands she attempted to hide behind her back. They stood there many moments looking at each other, before she spoke. "Please.will you sing again?" He said nothing and she continued. "I apologize for disturbing you.I heard your song." she fell silent. He closed some of the distance between them, and with a calm countenance, studied her face with gentle, searching eyes. "Why do you cry?" His steady gaze made her shiver.she dropped her eyes to the ground. "My heart is aching, Lord." She spoke quietly. "I have suffered greatly, and lost a part of myself, and for that I weep. Your song came to me through the trees, and it eased my heart." "Eased it perhaps.but not healed." His speech was as soothing and musical as his song. I see the pain still in your eyes. It quenches their light, Nienna, but not their wisdom." "Why do you call me by that name? For that is not mine. I am called Lanthiriel." He smiled a gentle smile. "I call you Nienna, Lady, for the Vala by that name. She is said to be a lady noble and fair, but she weeps for the injustices and pains of the world. What you said just then reminded me of her." She moved her eyes to the ground, and dared this time to meet his penetrating gaze. "You have yet to tell me your name, Lord." "I am Lindir." He bowed. She smiled. "A name that well suits you! Elen sila 'lummen ommentievlo, Lindir. A star shines on the hour of our meeting, Singing Watcher. "Then, daughter of the water fall, let us watch that star together, for it shines only for a little while more. " Now, the gentle hand of Lindir of Imladris was held out to Lanthiriel Tindome. She looked up into his star-like eyes, and there found a warmth greater than any her heart had felt. She placed her roughened hand upon his smooth one. He closed his hand around her fingers with a silent strength, and together they stood in the moonlight and gazed at the stars.