The Forgotten
A story of Imladris
By Arianlee
Mid-April, 3020 Third Age
"Wake up Firstsoul! Wake up!" Zephyr called out. "Oh, why won't you wake up? Come on Firstsoul! Hmph!" Flying right up to the young woman's face, the tiny fairy nudged her nose as hard as she could with her tiny hands. Even then, after all her monumental efforts, it still came to no avail. Nothing seemed to want to work. The woman just refused to wake up.
Placing her hands on her hips, Zephyr sighed and cocked her head to one side. There had to be something she could do, she just had to figure out what. Firstsouls just didn't ignore the Fey-folk in this way. It was just plain rude. She tried again. After backing away, she then flew back again. Her tiny sky blue and lavender wings worked hard while she pushed, but all she ended up accomplishing, in her effort to get more leverage, was to turn the woman's head to the side. Finally, out of breath and exhausted by her labors, she alighted on the top of the Firstsoul's blond head and placed her hands on her hips.
"Zephyr, you're not doing it right. Here, let me try," remarked an indignant Hyssop arriving to hover before the woman's face. After first flitting from one side of the woman's face to the other, the pixie tried and tried, but her own efforts ended up availing her no better than her friend's already had.
"I bet I could do it. Yeah. Yeah. I bet'cha I could. Uh-huh. Uh-huh. My turn. My turn,' rattled off Stormy, an incessantly chatty imp while he nimbly began climbing up the woman's soft doeskin leather vest.
Rolling her eyes, Hyssop remarked, "Oh just what we need - an imp. What kind help is he going to be? All they know is how to do is get in the way."
"Shush! He'll hear you," rebuked Zephyr.
"And so what if he does," Hyssop answered haughtily. "Imps are never worth anything when danger is around."
Reaching her shoulder, Stormy pulled a small chickadee feather from his pants pocket and began to tickle the woman's throat. "Wake up, Firstsoul. Come on. Come on. Tickle. Tickle." Still no response. His expression fell. This kind of thing just wasn't supposed to happen.
"Oh nuts and berries! She's not ticklish." In frustration, he began jumping up and down on her shoulder.
"Stormy, stop that. It's not nice," reprimanded Zephyr, "and it will do nothing to help her. Maybe she's just a heavy sleeper?"
"But it's the middle of the day. No one usually sleeps in the middle of the day." Suddenly Hyssop stopped, her eyes staring out into nothingness. A huge smile slowly began to light up her face.
"The twins and their kin come. Maybe they can help." Scrunching her eyes closed, she concentrated hard on relaying their predicament to their friends.
"They're coming," she reported excitedly. "The twins' father-brother comes ahead to help. The others will follow shortly."
"The twins come? Hurray! Yippee!" came the expectant cries of Zephyr and Stormy with glee and joy.
When Elladan arrived, he found the three Fey-folk still valiantly attempting to awaken her. The woman sat with her back reclining against a large rock. Her head was tilted back and turned to one side. An unbridled horse stood not far away, nibbling at the tender grasses of the glade.
Were it not for his concerns of the young woman remaining unconscious while the Fey-kin trio continued their insistent onslaught, he would have had to laugh at how comical their epic labors looked to him. Zephyr stood atop of the woman's head pulling hard at a few strands of her blond hair. Hyssop pushed against her cheek and then tried to open one of her eyelids, and Stormy pulled furiously at her shirt collar, his feet firmly planted against her throat.
"I think that is enough, dear friends," the first-born son of the House of Elrond called out. "You have done well in reporting her situation to us. Now let me see if I can figure out what the problem is."
Lithely kneeling beside the woman's half- prone body, he cupped her chin and gently shifted her face towards him. He gasped. By the Gods, she was beautiful! Skin the color of a bronzed sunset, hair the color of summer wheat. Her body lithe and well built…
He shook his head, reluctantly brushing away those most pleasant of thoughts. It had been years since his mind had last been pulled in such a way, and although surprised, he welcomed it most heartily. Something about her pulled at his soul…
'Stop this!' he chastised himself. By the Gods, here was a poor female lying before him, either ill or injured or both, and all his errant mind had the audacity to do was have romantic notions about a relationship with her.
Quickly, he looked her over for injury and cringed. Her right knee was swollen and dislocated, and the bone above it shattered. Without lifting her, he knew from the angle of her right hip, the large bone there was in even worse shape. Carefully, he slid his hand over her side and then down under he right buttock. There he found his worst fears confirmed. Her injuries were great and they had not been incurred there. It had to be the work of one of the solitary orcs who had been plaguing the edges of his father's lands since shortly after the destruction of the One Ring. How long she had withstood them he did not know, but understood he must get her some aid, and soon. Closing his eyes, he continued his inquiry regarding her welfare by sending his mind out to hers, and was shocked when he found nothing there. It was as if she… No! That just could not be. The Forgotten were only legends, stories told by youngsters between themselves to frighten and tease each other. Their existence just could not be real. The Valar would never be that cruel towards one of their kind.
Opening his eyes wide, he sat back hard against his heels. Stunned, he remained there for a second. Feeling a slight tug at the edge of his vest, his sound-sensitive ears perceiving the sound of Stormy's barely audible voice calling out for his attention.
While Elladan had been looking her over, the imp had climbed down the woman's shirtsleeve and now stood on the ground near her left hand. "Look," the tiny imp spoke hurriedly. "Look, father-brother of the Fey-brethren twins. In her hand. Look! Uh-huh. Uh-huh. See? See? There. There, in her hand."
Looking down, Elladan found great concern contained in his tiny companion's eyes. Moving his attentions to where the imp pointed excitedly, he glimpsed some type of green fauna lying clenched within the woman's hand as it lay at her side. Hopping against hope that this did not mean what he thought it might, he turned her palm towards him and then gently pried open her fingers. Chokefern!
"Gods, No!" he exclaimed. In this, he found his greatest fears realized. Tears came to his eyes. Why would any of the Firstborn wish to take their own life in this way with such a poison? To all the Quendi, life was to be savored, not squandered or rebuked. Life was a gift from the Gods! Her injuries were not so great that they could not be repaired easily, so he knew that could not have been what had driven her to take such drastic actions and seek suicide.
Then it hit him. She must indeed be one of The Forgotten. His heart cringed. None who held the blood of the Firstborn should ever have to bear the emptiness he knew the woman before him had suffered during her young life. Her lack of gifts would have left her to be ridiculed by her kin and clan, and unable to defend herself in such ways as all others of their race were so easily able to do. A tide of his own emotions suddenly overwhelmed him. Unbidden tears began to stream down his face.
Quickly, he mentally called out to his father, brother and nephews to hasten their arrival. Panicking that she could possibly expire before their appearance, he returned his attentions once more to the troubled soul before him. Cupping his hand against the side of her throat, he found her skin cold and clammy, yet inside a heat had begun to burn, denoting signs of a spreading infection. He sighed. At least he still found a pulse beating within her. Next, in moving his hand to her chest, he discovered her still breathing. Thank the Gods for that small favor, for it meant the poison had not yet progressed to the point of causing it to cease. He knew, however, it would indeed do just that in a very short amount of time, effectively killing her, if she were not administered the antidote soon. He could only hope his father carried the necessary ingredients with him.
Behind him, he heard the others emerge from around some nearby bushes and gave a silent thanks to the Gods for their timely arrival.
Elrohir's twin sons' appeared first, causing the three tiny Fey-kin to fly or in Stormy's case, to run to their sides. Having known Lavir and Dewidh since their early childhood, the trio sought out what comfort they could from them, for their failure to awaken the woman had shaken them badly. Since their lives knew only joy, curiosity and playfulness, the injury or death of a Firstsoul was not something they were likely, if ever, to have encountered in their travels.
While the twins remained with the horses and spoke soft assurances to their small friends, Elrond hastily grabbed his healer's bag from his saddle. Making his way over to his elder son and he knelt opposite him. "How does she fare?" her asked with great concern.
"She bears severe wounds to her right leg and hip. Her pulse is slow and breathing slight. Her skin is cold to the touch, even while a fever rises inside her. I know nothing further than that she lives." Taking the wilted herb from her hand, Elladan lifted it to show his father. "I did, however, find this."
Shocked at seeing the poisonous plant his son held out to him, Elrond replied, "Get a cloak and wrap her for warmth. I must work fast."
Standing, Elladan turned to do his father's bidding, but then stopped and turned back. "Ada, I tried to seek out her mind, but found nothing," he reported hesitantly.
"Nothing?"
"Nothing, Ada. It is as if she bears nothing of the gift. Nor can I find that she bears any of the others either."
"Giftless?" Elrond's heart tightened in his chest.
"Completely. I fear she may be one of the fabled Forgotten." As such, giftless and out on her own, without the smallest protection from the Elementals, she would have constantly had to live with the threat of danger all around her.
Elrond, turning his attention back to his charge, began to probe her mind. There, he found nothing, just as his son had said. No wonder she had tried to take her own life. Having been shunned by her kin, and with nowhere to go for help, she would have sought only death after having been attacked and injured so badly. She had most likely felt that none would aid her, had she been able to find anyone at all. His heart cringed and went out to her, realizing her recovery would entail much more than normal to aid in than just the of healing of her body. Delving skillfully through his bag, he removed some items. He resolved that, in his house, never again would she be treated so badly. She was still blood-kin, no matter her standing with the Valar.
When Elladan returned with a cloak in which to wrap the woman, Elrond commented, "She is indeed one the Forgotten. Although not impossible, I have rarely heard of this ever happening to one of our kind. I will speak with Daëtaur when she arrives home and see what can be done about rectifying this. She will know more than I regarding this matter." Although Elladan remained oblivious to the fact, Elrond had learned of and been humbled by Daëtaur's revelation of her true heritage as one of the Maiar nearly two years earlier. He knew the young woman's troubles would best be handled by her.
Suddenly the woman's breathing became labored and sharp, causing both men to look at her with great concern. "We begin to run out of time," the elder Elf commented. Pouring some water into a shallow bowl, he crushed some dried herbs between his fingers and then sprinkled them into the water. Holding the bowl between his hands, he quickly heated the water to near boiling; although it yet remained cool enough for the elf-child before him to safely drink. Sliding his hand behind her back, he lifted her to sit upright. Elladan then reached behind her and supported her while his father stroked her throat, causing her to involuntarily swallow the herbal brew he had just prepared. Although her body tried to cough it back up, she thankfully kept it down.
After repeating this process twice more, Elrond was satisfied that she had ingested enough to counteract what she had eaten earlier. Assured that he had done all he could do for her at the moment, he began to gather up his things. 'Come. We must be for home. Only there can I properly work to restore the damage to her leg and hip."
Elladan gathered the unconscious female into his arms and gracefully mounted his horse. Although the family had originally planned a leisurely ride towards home, their plans must now be altered in order to care for the trouble soul they had encountered.
"Take her on ahead," offered Dewidh. "We will stay with the Fey-kin for a while; until we are assured they have recovered from the shock of their adventure this day."
"Beware your surroundings. One of the misbegotten still lingers in the area. Her injuries have spoken to me as much," Elladan warned. The 'misbegotten' were how the Eldar had begun to refer to those orcs and goblins who still believed their master would one-day return. In the meantime, they continued to wage their war against all the other races, dreaming of the day when they would rule over Middle Earth. For the past year, these remnants of Sauron's once vast army had been systematically hunted down and destroyed by both the Rangers and the Firstborn.
As the others rode on towards Rivendell, the young twin sons of Elrohir sat down on the ground to speak with and comfort their tiny friends.
"You take great liberties and entice providence in remaining so close and with such familiarity by the young one, brother. Do you think this is wise?" asked Elrohir of Elladan, who sat cross-legged on the bed beside the unconscious woman. They had arrived back at their home in Imladris the day before and Elladan had not left her side except for only the brief time necessary for him to bathe and change his clothing while his father and Daëtaur had worked on the woman's hip and leg."Just as you once did, I now follow my own heart," Elladan stated firmly, looking down and lightly running his hand over the woman's blond hair.
Elrohir stared at his twin in surprise. "Your heart? I had come to believe your heart would never be given to another."
"Just as I thought it would never be also. Nevertheless, in the very moment when I beheld her lying there, my soul cried out in recognition. I know not how or why yet, but we are meant for each other."
"Then I can only congratulate you on your success. Yet, at the same time, I must also warn you of the future you may have with her. Father and Daëtaur do not know if there is something blocking her gifts from manifesting yet. If there is none, then you must understand you will never be able to share the same things that Daëtaur and I do. Mind-speech and the ultimate ecstasy of sharing elven love will be denied you. It shall be as Daëtaur warned, though she is immortal, it shall only be on the exterior that she shall appear Firstborn. I would not wish you to join your life with hers, only to find that you will one day both come to regret your decision."
"I know this, brother, for I have thought of nothing else since hearing your beloved wife's words. Yet, if she will have me, I will bear her deficiencies with temperance and love."
"And what of your gift?"
"I will continue to deny it."
"Do you think this wise? You know there are others out there…"
"I know brother, I know. Yet none have so far awakened that part of me that is necessary for completion of that gift."
Daëtaur reentered the room. "She still sleeps?"
"Yes, my love," answered Elrohir as he rose from the chair next to the bed across from Elladan.
"Then we shall continue to wait. I will not have her come back into the world alone, for her despair is great. Your father and I have discussed her plight and I have meditated on what can be done. Into my mind then came the answer, but its bequeathment must wait until the time is right. And, although it will cause her great joy, I know it will be preceded, albeit temporarily, by a time of great pain and uncertainty."
Gîlhîth awoke to the scent of lavender scented sheets and the feel of a down filled mattress beneath her.
"Finally, she wakes," came an unfamiliar female voice into her ears.
Wearily opening her eyes, she turned her head to locate the one who had uttered them. In discovering her, she found herself looking into a set of bright, sea-green eyes. She gasped. Behind her stood an elven male with light brown hair and luminescent grey eyes.
The blond female smiled at her and said, "Worry not, for you are now safe and your injuries attended to."
Gîlhîth swallowed hard and asked wearily, "Where am I? "
"In Imladris, in the care of the Healers here."
The young elf drew in a sharp breath. "Imladris! The realm of Lord Elrond?" By the Gods, how had she gotten here? She now lay within the lands of the King of the Noldor!
"Yes and you are most welcome here," the woman spoke gently. "I am Daëtaur, a Healer. What might your name be?"
"Gîlhîth." Realization of who her companions were suddenly entered the young woman's mind. "Lady Daëtaur? 'The' Healer?" she asked, cautiously.
Daëtaur smiled indulgently. "Yes, Gîlhîth, I am she."
Gîlhîth gasped. The Lady was a well-known Princess-by-marriage to the house of the Noldorin King. That would mean the male standing in back of her was probably her betrothed, Prince Elrohir. Her eyes rose to gaze upon him. Again, she swallowed hard.
Daëtaur, seeing the realization of his identity dawning in the young woman's eyes, offered an introduction. "And this is my husband, Elrohir." Raising her hand, she added, "And sitting beside you is his brother, Elladan. He, with the aid of the forest fey, was first to find you in the forest."
Gîlhîth turned her head and looked into the most engaging set of grey eyes she had ever beheld. Although he was the twin of his brother Elrohir, she perceived some subtle differences between the two of them. Her hands rose to cover her face. How could she, of all people, have been brought to this place and come to be under the care of such an illustrious family? She must be dreaming. She had to be dreaming. Nothing else could explain all of this. Overwhelmed, she began to cry.
Gentle, but strong hands were placed over hers and then drew them away from her face. "Cry not, gentle soul. You are among friends and kin here. None shall gainsay your presence. Please, do not attempt to hide such beauty as you possess from my eyes, for they shall weep themselves at the loss of it."
Beauty? She? Ha! "Your attempt at false flattery shall do nothing to distract me from my plight. Why you have brought me here, when I am not even worthy to come near the borders of these illustrious lands?"
Elladan was stunned by her words. "False flattery? Nay, milady. Please, speak not of such untruths, for my words address only the genuineness of what my eyes behold before them."
Never before had Gîlhîth ever dreamed of being looked upon as pretty or desirable by one of her kind. In this, she understood he had only been wishing to ease her mind with such words, for he could never have really meant what he had said to her. She turned from him and attempted to pull her hands away and escape his strong, but loving grip. Yet, he refused to give way. Choking back her tears, she begged, "Please, I know I possess no such beauty. I am but only that of an outcast, deemed to roam this world alone in my shame. I am nothing, but a Forgotten Child of the Valar. I am nothing but one of the Edain, wrapped in the immortal skin of a Firstborn. If the Gods have so forsaken me, then I am unworthy of being anything except dirt beneath your feet. I am not worthy of either yours or any others' attentions belonging to this house."
"Pah!" spat Elladan, rejecting her despaired evaluation of her plight. "You are still young. Gifts do not always manifest themselves in the same way that they do in all others."
"Ha! I have seen eighty-six winters already, and so know I will never be granted what all others of the Eldar have been."
"I would not worry about that. Daëtaur will tell you herself that she did not come into her own until her one hundred and forty-fourth year."
Gîlhîth was surprised at first of his speaking of such a personal thing in her presence. Looking up, she saw Daëtaur give her a small smile and silently nod her consensus of his words. Although she felt sorry for the great Lady at having shared her plight and endured for such a great length of time, her own plight held even more weight. "Yet, I speak not only of the giftings given at majority, but, also of those, which manifest at birth. At least she could control the elements while she waited, as well as speak to others with her mind. I can do none of that, nor do I possess the gifts of elven sight or hearing. By the will of the Gods, I cannot even stave off the cold or bear great heat. I am nothing but an Edain wrapped in the skin of a Firstborn. I am nothing. Nothing…" Unable to hold back her tears any longer, she let them have their way within her.
Elladan looked to his sister-in-law, his concern for the woman who had stolen his heart written all over his face. He had not wished to cause Gîlhîth any pain with his words, only comfort. Yet, now he saw he had handled it badly. His stomach and heart twisted simultaneously.
'Worry not, heart-brother,' Daëtaur sent to his mind, 'She sees only the dejection and loneliness she has always known. She no longer sees the difference between ridicule and compassion in these matters.'
She allowed her a moment to vent her tears before saying, "Gîlhîth, your plight has not gone unnoticed by Lord Elrond and myself. I have just returned from discussing such with him. We both believe that some sort of block exists in your mind, one which has never allowed you to come into any of your gifts. Why this avenue was never explored, we do not know and find great fault in those of your clan for not doing so before this. The hour grows late and you must rest. Tonight, I will meditate on it, asking the Gods for their enlightenment. I will return in the morning and discuss this further with you. Would this be acceptable to you?"
Sniffing back her tears, Gîlhîth answered, "But why would you do such a thing for me? I have told you, I mean nothing to the Gods. Do not expect any answers, for I have long prayed to them myself and received nothing in reply."
Elladan was quick to answer this. "Daëtaur has ever had the ear of the Gods. If there is anyone who can resolve this, she can."
Gîlhîth closed her eyes and shook her head. "Although I do not doubt your words about her abilities, for I have long heard the same, I still find myself holding no hope that the Gods will even remember my existence."
"Why have you all put so much effort into healing and making me feel welcome here?" Gilhîth asked.
"Why should we not? Father and Daëtaur are the two most talented Healers in all of Middle Earth and would never think to refuse aid where it is needed."
"Yet I am not even worthy of being dirt under your feet, Prince Elladan. Yet, here I sit, surrounded by Noldorin royalty, who works tirelessly on my behalf. It is I who should be serving you, not the other way around. Why do you do as you do, when I am not worthy of it?"
Elladan's anger began to seethe, yet he dared not express it. "First, please call me Elladan. I loathe titles, especially when used in private. Second, my family, although of exalted rank and ancestry, cleaves not to that sort of thing. Yes, we must allow it during meetings with the other races, and yes, we allow those of our race to bow their respects, but never will you find us demanding it when it is not given freely. Father chose not to formally take on the mantle of kingship over our clan, just for this reason. Although he demands respect and is a stickler for ritual and tradition, you will find him humbled when it comes to acknowledging our Noldorin blood."
Shocked, she returned, "Yet I have ever been taught to refer to you as such."
"By whom?"
"The elders of my clan. If ever one should forget the use of royal titles when referring to anyone belonging to one of the Eldarin royal families, great punishment was meted out."
"But that is absurd. I must mention this to Father, for he will not be happy about it in the least." Searching for some way to change the subject, he asked, "What were you called in your youth?" As all elven children were either renamed by their father at their majority, or chose their own name, he had hoped to discover some other aspect of her personality, and so had inquired of her birthing name.
Gîlhîth cringed, but replied, "I have only ever borne but one name. I was born under a shower of nighttime stars as they flew across the sky, and thus was so named." Her name literally meant 'StarMist'.
Elladan's eyes widened. "But why? If none was forthcoming from your family or kin, then why did you not choose one for yourself, as is your right?"
She shrugged. "Except for the facts of my being immortal and bearing the outward traits of the Eldar, I thought it best to remain as I was. The Edain do not rename their children, so I thought that, since I am just like them, except in those small ways, I should share their tradition."
"Yet you are Eldar, not Edain," he insisted.
"So diminished am I by what the Gods have made me, I am not worthy of following the blessed traditions of the Eldar. It would seem presumptuous on my part to do so."
"Oh Gîl, I wish you would stop putting yourself down in such a way. It does you no credit."
"Yet I am what I am and nothing can change that."
"Still, both Daëtaur and I believe it. I am sure, when she returns, she will have received from the Valar the answer to this riddle of your gifts. Such has ever been her gift. Besides being a Healer, she is also a Seeress, one who has ever sought to learn and speak of the futures of those who wish to know it. Until she returns, I refuse to hear anything further regarding your lack of them. No matter your gifts, you are still a beautiful person, both inside and out. This much I can sense in you and I am never wrong when it comes to meting out such things. Call it a gift or some sort of inane sense of the perceiving the world. I care not which. Just know that I speak the truth."
"But will father agree to such a marriage after only having known her for so little a time. I would not wish there to be any rift between you. I've experienced enough of that myself in the past and would not wish it upon anyone."
"I know she is the one for me. I felt it the very moment I laid eyes on her."
"So you are so sure of yourself now, that you intend on asking father for permission?"
"Yes. Now, later, what would the difference be? He is alone in his study right now and feel it is just a good a time as any."
"Lan, I do not know about this…"
"Do you doubt my conviction? Do you doubt my heart?"
"Never."
"Then why the sudden apprehension?"
"You have always been so careful of never giving of your affections in that manner, and with your gift…"
"If that is all, then put those fears to rest. Father will agree. I have no doubt of that."
"Then you sense something in her?"
"Yes, brother. I believe I have finally found my soul-mate."
Ten minutes later, Elladan entered his father's library. "Ada…" he spoke, requesting his father's attention.
"Elladan, come in my son. How can I help you?" Elladan bowed their respects, leaving the Lord of Imladris confused. "Such formality? What has brought this on?"
"Ada, Gîlhîth and I have done nothing but talk since her arrival, and in doing so, I have found my Spirit and gifts crying out with love for her. I have therefore come to ask your blessing and permission to be handfasted."
Elrond stood there in shock. Their nearly constant company with each other had not gone unnoticed by him, yet he had thought it only a passing thing and had not paid much attention to it past that. Long had he wished to hear such words from his eldest son, but had come to sense that his lifepath would ever remain a solitary one. With the unique gift the Gods had granted him, he had despaired of him every joining with another. Now, in just the three short weeks since their meeting, his son had found the one he had long sought out. The difference in their ages worried him a bit however.
"My heart gladdens at this, but it also harbors much trepidation. Elladan, are you sure that what you seem to think of as love and the calling of your gift, is not just a bout of fierce compassion on your part? And what of Gîlhîth? Has she consented to this? Or are you so sure of your feelings toward her…"
"Father, my gift calls out for its companion mate. I have waited so long now to hear its cry that I am as sure of this as I am that the sun will rise again each day. The only thing lacking is the awakening of her gifts. I am sure that just as soon as Daëtaur returns, all will be made clear in Gîlhîth. She, too, will feel the call, just as I have."
"Then be patient for a while longer and do not force the issue with her."
"No Ada; that I will never do. I have learned my lessons well from the past and never shall I do such again."
Daëtaur entered one of the gardens to find Elladan and Gîlhîth talking beneath an ancient willow tree. Both looked up at her with anticipation and apprehension.
"Good day, heart-sister," Elladan offered.
"Milady," Gîlhîth said, adding a respectful bow of her head.
Daëtaur settled herself into the chair, but offered nothing more than, "Yes, it is a fine day, is it not?"
Finally, unable to stand it any longer, Elladan asked, "Well?" Neither had been able to draw from her countenance what results she had gleaned in her endeavors.
Daëtaur only returned a stoic, but innocent front. "Well what, heart-brother?"
"D, if our guest wasn't here right now I'd…"
"But she is and you look as if…"
But Gîlhîth failed to hear the rest of her comment, for into her mind came, 'He is quite handsome when he gets angry, isn't he?' She froze; her eyes going wide as she gasped aloud. Her mouth opened. Her eyes stared out into space as she tried to make some sense of what had just happened.
Then her world suddenly began to change. Her senses went wild. Details came into clarity before her eyes, her hearing suddenly sharpened, her sense of taste and touch intensified. Her whole body began to ache. Trying to shut herself away from the assault, she closed her eyes tightly and covered her ears with her hands, but her efforts were to no avail. She felt herself engulfed within someone's arms, but knew not whose. She heard a name that was not hers being whispered softly in her ear.
"Gurenîth, what is wrong?"
It was Elladan's voice. But why would he refer to her in such a way? Why would he call her 'My heart's respite'?
A second, and very gentle hand lay itself upon her forearm. A female voice broke through the cacophony in her mind. 'Gîlhîth, it is Daëtaur. Fear not, mellon nin, all is well. Breathe deep and allow your gifts to settle in. Do not fight them. That is right, allow them their way…'
When she could again take breath into her lungs, albeit a bit raggedly, she heard Daëtaur say, "She will be fine. The Valar spoke to me about a block remaining in her mind. I had only to find and release it."
Then the world went black and still.
Gîlhîth awoke to find herself back in bed. Her head lay on a small pillow sitting in the crook of Elladan's crossed legs. His hand brushed across her hair, as if to give her comfort and assurances.
"Lan?"
"Yes, Gurenîth?"
"What happened?"
"Daëtaur released your gifts. Though your body handled it quite easily at first there was one gift that became too much for you to bear and you passed out. How are you feeling now?"
"Tired." She stopped for a moment, not sure of how to address her next question. "Lan, why do you call me so when I am not worthy of such?"
"Not worthy of my desires? But you are, dear one. More than you could ever know."
She sat up and looked at him, tears already forming in her eyes. "Yet you know nothing of me or my past. Were you to know, I do not think…" She lowered her head.
"Then why not tell me and let me make that decision myself."
"But after what I shall tell you, I am sure you will want nothing further to do with me."
"Let me be the judge of that."
"I would rather just leave things as they are and quietly depart from here altogether. With the awakening of my gifts I fear I shall bring only harm to those here."
"But why?"
"Lan, there is a gift, one quite inherent in my immediate family, that has driven my own father, as well as two of my sisters insane. I fear that I may have been granted that same gift myself and so must be away from here before it causes any problems."
"Why? For what reason?"
"Oh Gods Lan, I could not bear it should you…" She drew in a deep breath. Her eyes went wide. "No, no…"
"What Gîl? What?"
"It must have already happened. It had to..."
"Gîl, you are not making any sense. What has already happened?"
"Lan, though it may pain you to hear it, know that I have no idea how to stop what has happened."
"Gîl…" he warned, cocking his head.
Her tears now too hard to keep confined, Gîlhîth rose from the bed, and fled.
At first Elladan just sat there in shock, but once he came back to his senses, he called out to his nephew Lavir with his mind, telling him to meet him the near the rose garden fountain. From there, they left on foot trailing after the distraught Gîlhîth. As they ran, Elladan filled his nephew in on what he needed him to do.
They found Gîlhîth climbing the sheer rock face of the inner side of the mountain that protected the valley of Imladris. The two elven princes stood at the bottom looking up at her.
Lowering his voice, Elladan asked of his nephew, "Do you think you can get up there, get a hold on her and then bring her down safely?" As they spoke, neither of them turned their attentions away from the woman scaling the rock face.
"Should be able to pretty easily," Lavir answered with an assurance only one of his youthful age could offer. "Look, she's just about to reach a ledge. When she sits down to rest, I will teleport there and bring her down."
"Good, just be careful."
"I will uncle."
Projecting his voice upward, he demanded, "Gîl, come down from there. I must speak to you. Believe me, you have nothing to fear from either Lavir or myself."
The elven female stopped and looked down. "No, I must leave here," she replied in her anguish. "I must end this now before any others come under the spell of my gift. Please forgive me Lan, I never desired you to be so affected," and then continued her climb.
"Gurenîth, what is so wholly overpowering that you should continue to refuse to listen to me or to answer my questions? Get down here and tell me now, for I would know all!"
She ignored him.
When she reached the ledge and sat down to rest for a moment, the young elven male saw his chance and took it. As the woman closed her eyes and tried to calm her breathing, Lavir quickly teleported himself and reappeared behind her. Laying his hands on her shoulders, he then reversed the process.
Incredibly, Gîlhîth suddenly found herself sitting on the ground by Elladan's feet. When she made to dart away to renew her climb, Elladan seized her arm and held tight.
While she found against him, the Noldorin prince said to his nephew, "Thank you Lavir. All will be fine now. I have no intentions of letting her get away from me again." Lavir gave his uncle a friendly wave and disappeared.
Elladan then turned his attentions back to the female in his grip. "Gîl, I've been patient with you, but now I insist that you answer my inquires. Sit down," he ordered and threw her to the ground.
Defeated, Gîlhîth resignedly sat back against the base of the mountain and hung her head. "Elladan, I am the daughter of Rasrochuín, once the son and heir to Círdan, the king of the Sindar, also known as The Shipwright."
"This is mournful news indeed, my dear princess."
"Oh Lan, never call me that. I am but an outcast within my family and no longer hold any right to that title."
"And what is so wrong with that? You make as if bearing such a regal title is more of a sin than a privilege. And they have cast you out just because your gifts have somehow remained blocked? That is insane."
"No, the insane part results from one of the gifts I now feel growing inside me. This gift draws Eldarin males to me. It robs them of their will. All they know is that I am one to be loved, desired and coveted. One where they wish me taken to their bed. Were I to allow this of any, they would go insane from what my gift would do to them afterward. That gift is a curse; a bane to my existence. It shall only cease once I finally come to share the bed of one with the same gift. Only then will it come under control. In the instant of that joining, he and I will become one, bonded in so many unimaginable ways… Yet there are none alive today who I can share my life with in this. The spell that involuntarily emanates from me shall never be answered. It shall never find its other half and combine with his own to make us one."
Elladan gave her an indulgent smile. "An interesting gift, and one I have heard during Daëtaur's lessons to the children here, but why would your father and sisters have gone mad, instead of those who lusted after them? And why do you think you will also share in their sad fate?"
"Because, with there being so few of us who possess this gift, they eventually found no true mate and ended their lives, instead of harming any more than they already had. Though my parents were handfasted, my mother held no such gift and my father's need to join with one bearing it was never fulfilled. Eventually, he… Oh Elladan, my family, those of the royal line of the Sindar, have the gift of were-change, specifically that of the unicorn. Now I feel its power growing within me and dread what it shall mean to me.
"One of the were-kind with the calling of the unicorn. It is such a gentle and noble calling. You shall possess powers to calm troubled Spirits and heal those in need. It is something very much like Daëtaur's own gifts. She will be so pleased. This is wonderful."
"No Lan, to any possessing the ability, it is not. The Edain capture and kill us for the supposed magic our horns possess and covet our blood for its healing properties. Yet, those who do this fail to realize that the magic comes not from those sources, but the person within. They know not that we are Eldar. And by our very presence, all Eldarin males desire to possess and rut with us. At least with males holding the unicorn gift, they do not share this problem, only that they are driven to find their soul-mate and join with them. Yet, no matter whether male or female, our lives become solitary ones, hidden safely away from those who would do us harm."
Elladan went quiet for a moment, deep in thought. "Gîl, do you so hate and despise me so much that you would not entertain my own advances?'
"Were they sincere, I would welcome them. Were you one to share my were-gift, I would… But that is something better left undreamed of. Yes, I have, in our time together, come to have deep feelings for you, but now that my gift has bespelled you, I would never wish to make you, to force you…"
Ah, so she did have feelings for him. His gift had not lied to him. Elladan's heart soared. His fondest wish had just been accepted and granted. "No Gurenîth, believe me, your gift has not enthralled me. I remain quite sane and in full control of myself."
"But how could you know if you were or not?"
"Because I, too, share your gift."
"But how…" Gîlhîth sat there, wide-eyed in shock, realization dawning in her mind. What a fool she had been. Why had she not realized before that his mother was of the Sindarin royal line and that he could have been gifted just as much as she was? By the Gods, both he and his father were heirs to her own father's realm.
Kneeling down in front of her, Elladan placed his hand on her leg and quietly answered, "Gurenîth, long have I searched for just the right person to bond with, but in the past, none have ever awakened the feelings I experienced in that very first moment when I laid eyes on you. In that instant, I knew we were fated to belong to one another; fated to be together. If you will just allow yourself to let down that wall of fears you have built up over the years, I am sure you will find the same within yourself. Gîl, I love you."
"No Lan, do not say such things. I dare not…"
Reaching up, he gently cradled her face within his hands and looked intently into her eyes. "Yet you are mine, Gurenîth. Deny it no longer, you are mine." Lowering his head, their foreheads met.
Gîlhîth felt that spot warm and then begin to burn. Then, she no longer felt the softness of his skin there upon hers, but the hardness of bone on bone. The nub of a horn formed. His blood had called to hers. Hers had answered. Her world began to calm; her breathing slowed. Her words became breathless and soft. "Lan…"
His words began to fade in her ears, as though emanating from a far distance. "Come to me Gîl. Give yourself to me…" He took her into his arms. Firmly and decisively, he kissed her, openly claiming her as his own.
The call of the wild suddenly surged through her veins. The unicorn mare within her gave in to the call of the strong, handsome unicorn stallion before her. "Lan…"
Elladan picked her up and took her to a small, private glen nearby. There, he laid her down on a large patch of moss. Allowing the desire so deeply pent up within them, they made love. Their joining bonded them for life. No longer need Gîlhîth fear others. No longer was she alone…
When they returned home, the monumental change in each of them was quite evident. An aura of power surrounded them. Their long hair, once light brown and sun gold, had turned stark white, wisps of which floated in the breeze as though manes. Their eyes, once grey and blue, were now bright lavender. Their very souls were calm and centered. A sense of security and completeness was left in their wake as they walked.
It was done. The two had become one.
FINIS
AUTHOR'S NOTE - the copyright of this story and those characters and places not already previously the property of the Tolkien Estate remain with the author.