A/N: Welcome reader, to my latest story: The Shift! This has been under wraps for close to three years at this point. I've written more drafts of this story than any I have before, and I am very proud and excited to be letting this story loose into the world! I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I have enjoyed writing it! As you will see in the future, this is only the beginning of my Metamorphosis Trilogy.
Thanks go to Mermaid Sushi for betaing, CSG4Me for plot hole plugging, and SeleneLiath for convincing me to go ahead and begin posting, already!
By the way, if you enjoy reading, do please review! It makes this author very happy!
Disclaimer the First and Only: I do not own any characters you may recognize! Lin, Cirvel, and Nemir, in particular, are my creations, but the rest belong to the great Professor, JRR Tolkien!
Chapter 1 : Changing Hands
T.A. 1119
Everything began when the Queen of Mirkwood arrived. Although she had visited many times before, as her family had deep roots among the great mellyrn of Lothlórien, she was visiting on the Lady of the Wood's invitation this time, and many welcomed the Queen Mirwen back to the Golden Wood.
The Lady Galadriel had this time, it seemed, preemptively invited Queen Mirwen to Lórien. She was newly with child, her second, and her first son. I assumed the Lady Galadriel must have seen something of utmost importance in her mirror, as she frequently invited elves to Lórien from the other realms on that basis. For her to have heeded a summons from the Lady was mildly surprising, for separation of a mother and child from the father during a pregnancy was not recommended and took a toll on all parties. And although the relationship between the two great woods was still strained, no doubt the Queen would never have refused an invitation from the Lady. Her foresight would always be something the Mirkwood queen would be very interested in benefitting from.
I did not hear this conversation, because as a Lady-in-Wait to Galadriel, I had no such privileges. Instead, I was summoned to the Lady afterward, and make no mistake – I was burning with curiosity as to what use I could be to them.
"Aralin," Lady Galadriel said, as she descended the steps of her spacious talan and stood in front of me, with the Queen standing close behind. Galadriel stopped before me and raised her hand to cup my face. This was not entirely unusual – she was a kind, if frightening woman. "Aralin, you have been of great service to me for many years. Will you, once again, aid me?" she asked, although I knew she already knew my answer: I would do anything for her. She was my mistress and mentor, and my fealty to her was often intertwined with feelings of love and respect, not because her position demanded them from me, but because she had long ago earned them.
"I am always at your service," I answered, meeting her bright eyes and, as always, being stunned at the depths I saw; depths that came only with thousands of years' worth of knowledge and experience. It was like looking into the past, but looking through a misted glass and being sure only of knowing that many things were happening on the other side. I, or no one else, save Galadriel herself, could see those images clearly.
"Will you leave my service and enter that of the Queen of Mirkwood?" Galadriel finally asked. I could tell she was listening in on my thoughts for my immediate reaction. I could not deny that her request was quite shocking to me. Many thoughts and requests would have crossed my mind before this one. And yes, immediately, my response was negative: Lothlórien was not only my home, but also the only place I had ever known. I was afraid and unaware of what went on outside the borders, not at all familiar with the Middle Earth that lay beyond the edges of the forest, except for what I had seen in maps, illustrations and brief histories I had read.
However, if the Lady were requesting that I do this, I had faith that she had to have a good reason to justify the means. Although still wavering internally, I verbally committed to a response and said, "I would only do it if you no longer required my assistance." It was an answer that was neither positive nor negative, and I knew that the Lady would be pleased with my neutral omission. Galadriel smiled at me and replied:
"Sweet Aralin, you will be of greater need to the House of Oropher," she assured. There was something more encouraging in her tone than in the words themselves, and so I realized what my response would have to be. Even though I felt stunned and a little numb (and rightly so, I thought. That I would ever be dismissed was not news I had ever anticipated to hear,) I confidently squared my shoulders, giving, if anything, the outward appearance of confidence.
Having no other objection, I complied: "Then I, of course, will do your bidding, though I leave you with a heavy heart." If Galadriel wanted me to go into the service of the Queen then, there was a good reason for it, which I would eventually realize, hopefully sooner rather than later.
"We will leave within the month; I am anxious to return to my husband," Queen Mirwen said to me with a warm smile.
I bobbed a curtsy and replied simply, "Yes," since I had nothing else to say.
"You will have a little time to set your affairs in order," she assured me with a kind and genuine smile. "I understand this will be a difficult transition for you." It was surprising to me to realize that, even standing next to the most powerful elf in this wood, the queen still managed to command my attention when she spoke. She possessed a light and warmth all her own that soothed me. With her smile she reassured me that I might have made the right choice in acquiescing to Lady Galadriel's will.
"Thank you, your majesty," I replied, waiting for Galadriel to dismiss me.
"You may leave," she said. The glint in the Lady's eyes told me she was in my head again, turning over my thoughts as if they were stones in a sieve. I started to descend the stairs. "Aralin?" she called to me. I turned around and began to return – "Old habits die hard," she added, clearly referencing my thoughts again. Galadriel frequently visited my thoughts. Often I thought I could feel her flipping through them like pages in a book, and though I couldn't imagine my mind being the most interesting place to be, she must have always found what she wanted. I did not pretend to possess a great mind like her Ladyship, but I suppose if she was inside of everyone's thoughts as often as she was, she was bound to learn a lot from her subjects' streams of consciousness.
"More than you know," Galadriel responded aloud to my thoughts. "You are free to go," she said, her eyes glittering in the way that only the Lady's could. She was likely amused by my frank thoughts of half verbal conversations.
I felt it would be polite not to laugh until I left, but a giggle did indeed escape through my restraint. "Thank you, my lady," I said through stifled chuckles, turning to leave the talan.
-o-
As I walked back through the trees to my talan, I realized with a pang that leaving would not be a difficult affair to organize at all, at least, in a practical sense. I had few possessions that I could not live without, but I realized with dismay that I did not understand the dynamics of transplanting one's life. I had moved only twice: out of my parents' house when I was old enough, and then again when I moved into my husband's home when we were married. I needed to consider much, most of which I could not – or perhaps did not want to – think about at this time. At this very moment in time, I just wanted to sink into my husband's embrace.
Realistically, of course I did not want to leave the place of my childhood and upbringing. It had been a place of sanctuary buried deep in a world where much had changed; a place of beauty in a world that had started to decay around us all. I had lived for long enough to realize that, although very slowly, the autumn lengthened every year.
What would I do with my house? How would I tell Cirvel? How would I tell our daughter?
I entered my small abode and took a good look around the place that had been my home for more than three centuries. This wasn't a long time, not to Elves, but it seemed to be forever to me. Reasonably, I told myself that I could leave some things behind…
I gathered my head and peered around with a critical eye: perhaps I could even give this talan to my granddaughter, Nemir, who had not yet left her mother and father's home. Yes, I decided – this would be a fitting place for Nemir, whose little feet had pitter-pattered around these floors since she could walk. Though she was now considered of-age, she still looked upon this place as a haven. She loved this place as much as I did.
Yes, I decided. What is mine would be hers. She deserved a home such as this.
I heard a noise behind me. It was unusual, and my ears neither recognized the footsteps nor the presence. I turned and waited for them to reveal themselves. To my surprise, it was Queen Mirwen ascending the steps to my talan.
"My Queen," I said, dipping my head in recognition of her status.
"Aralin, my dear, you are so lovely," the Queen gushed, surprising me again and stepping forward to kiss my brow. She gently clasped my face for a few seconds, and then my hands in turn.
"I – th-thank you," I replied, shocked into stuttering. I was not used to such treatment from someone who was supposed to be my superior. Galadriel certainly never treated me thus, and while it was unusual, it was not unpleasant. The Queen's assuring and caring aura seemed to wrap around me and calm me.
"You honor me with your agreement to come into my service, you really do. The Lady Galadriel has told me much about you. You are a favorite of the Lady's, surely you know this," she divulged happily, searching my eyes for my reaction.
I paused, wondering how to be polite with my answer. "The Lady does not often speak of her emotions and thoughts to those who serve her," I said humbly, knowing this was an honest response. "But… I am glad to know of it."
"To be quite honest, I do not believe she speaks of her emotions and thoughts to anybody!" the Queen exclaimed with a chuckle. "As fair warning, you will experience quite the opposite with me and my family, I assure you. In those dark woods, we are often a little too verbal with our opinions!" she said with a wry smile. I wondered if I would ever see her without a broad grin gracing her face. "Now, you must let me help you arrange your departure," she demanded suddenly, walking around and giving my quarters a once-over, placing her hand to her chin and clearly wondering where to begin. "A woman should not be left alone in this business."
"I – my Queen-" I stammered, afraid of offending.
"Merely Mirwen, my dear. You will find us not only verbal with our opinions but quite informal with our titles in Mirkwood. Of course, when holding court, it is quite a different affair," she corrected me. I experienced a moment of dizziness – it seemed that my whole life was turning topside. I was reluctant but resolved to see it through, as I had freely agreed to make this change in my life.
"My – Mirwen." (I wondered briefly if I was damned to forever stutter in her presence?) "I need to tell my husband, and he will doubtless aid me with our departure."
Queen Mirwen was unabashed. "Very well, but I shall be by here tomorrow to pester you again into accepting my help. We leave soon, for I must be home within the month." I could understand why. She glowed with the presence of her child, and I remembered well the separation anxiety that I experienced when I was away from my husband when I was pregnant. It is imperative for the bond to be strong between the three, and it is exhausting for the mother to play two of those parts, even for a short amount of time. To be truthful, I was surprised that Thranduil had let her come on this journey at all – but yet with an outspoken and strong-minded partner, I wondered whether Thranduil really had any say in her decision.
"If you will excuse me, I must seek out my husband," I said politely, moving past the queen to descend the stairs.
"Very well, Aralin," she replied.
"Lin, please," I informed her. "My friends call me Lin." I had always been called Lin, though I did not understand why my parents named me one thing and called me another. Perhaps someday I would ask, but that would not be for a long time; my parents had sailed West many years ago, shortly after my marriage to Cirvel.
The queen beamed. "I am honored that you number me among your friends," she happily admitted.
-o-
When I finally plucked up the courage to tell him, Cirvel took the news as well as one could hope. Not unlike me, he had grown up in these woods and he was reluctant to leave. This was not because he was afraid of Mirkwood, but because he was fearful of leaving his home; separation from his family, who he valued so highly. There was no way he could ask our daughter to come along with us - he was too proud for that. But then, he did not once suggest I go alone. No, I daresay that did not even cross his mind. We who are bound follow the other wherever they go, be it across the world or even into Mandos, from one realm into the next.
"Are you sure you are okay with this? Are you sure you want to come with me?" I asked, for what was surely the three-thousandth time during our conversation.
"My love, my Lin, your body would be far easier to dispose of in that spider-infested forest," he said, the corner of his mouth twitching, letting me know he was poking fun of me. His eyes twinkled and I pushed him away from my embrace playfully.
"Yours would too, you know," I reminded him.
"But I am a soldier, I have a sword," he reminded me. "Those spiders would not stand a chance." He pulled me back into his body and I leaned in and sighed. Our humor would carry us forward into our future, and although I felt temporarily relieved, I could not help but feel as though he was trying to be strong for my benefit, and that it would be harder on him than I wanted.
After this conversation with Cirvel, I then called on my daughter and her husband to inform them of our impending departure and to also offer young Nemir our talan. She gladly accepted, although she begged me to decline my new appointment:
"Grandmother, please remain here, I could not bear to see you leave," Nemir pleaded, clasping my hands in hers. "I will miss you terribly," she added earnestly.
"I know, little one," I murmured. "But you must visit me sometime," I urged attempting to bring this news round into something more positive. "You would be welcome to stay with your grandfather and I."
"I will, I will," she promised, kissing my cheek.
"And I will do my best to return to you whenever I can," I told her, gathering her into my embrace and holding her close. "I will never leave you, little jewel," I whispered into her ear, before pressing a kiss into her hair.
-o-
The Queen, as she had threatened the day before, did indeed stop by to aid me in organizing our departure. She brought with her a small army of elves who had accompanied her on her journey from Mirkwood. My husband and I tried to help, but found we just got in the way of the organized precision of her men. We ended up just staring, admittedly openmouthed, as she orchestrated the group into packing everything I indicated into trunks, in order to be sent ahead of the travelling group.
"Your Majesty," my husband stammered, "how will we be able to thank you?" he asked.
"You can thank me by serving faithfully in our wood for many years," she answered easily, with a kind smile. My husband was a member of the Lórien guard, and it had already been decided that upon reaching Mirkwood he would join their army. It was an honor for him to be able to continue to serve.
"I will, my Queen," he answered earnestly. He took my hand and kissed my knuckles softly. As always, a little shiver travelled down my spine. Despite marriage for centuries, his touch never failed to thrill me as if it were still the first time.
I caught the queen watching my moment with my husband with a slightly forlorn expression. Clearly she missed her husband and rightly so: being with child was no leisurely stroll, especially without one's significant other. I made eye contact with Cirvel and raised my eyebrows, telling him silently to leave and help the Queen's men move our belongings. He caught the hint, (bless him) and made a move to help carry a trunk, saying, "Please, let me help," to a guardsman who was just making his way down the steps.
"You did not have to do that for my sake," Mirwen said. The queen was very observant and I told her so. She laughed. "Yes. Yes, I am." After musing for a moment, she added, "I suppose one has to be observant when one is queen. My people know and love me, but that is because I know and love each one of them in return. I worked hard when I was younger to be the best queen anyone could ask for. Dear Thranduil is a natural leader… I was afraid I would lag behind." She paused, took a deep breath and finished: "I no longer want to be the best queen there ever was. I merely want to be the best I can be. Sometimes that is more than enough. Otherwise, I fear I fail miserably."
"I think you are a marvelous queen," I complimented honestly. She had shown me more than enough in order for me to draw that conclusion.
"Yes, thank you. But you say that because you are working for me," she replied with a knowing smile.
"No, that is why I am working for you," I corrected.
Mirwen beamed.
-o-
The day of our departure eventually dawned and, rather reluctantly, I rose to meet the rising sun. Cirvel was awake beside me already and as I stretched and yawned he chuckled to himself quietly.
"What?" I murmured softly, stifling another yawn.
"How long have we been married?" he asked with a little smirk.
"Maybe four, five centuries now?" I suggested. Secretly, I knew the exact answer. Three-hundred and ninety years, almost exactly to the day.
"Every day we have been married, you have woken up the same," he observed, turning onto his side and propping his head up on his hand. I turned my head to face his and smiled.
"How?" I asked, genuinely curious as to why he was so amused. He reached between our bodies and grasped my hand. I had known and loved this elf for many seasons, had been married to him for even longer, and yet his touch never seemed to fail to send a sharp tingle all over my body. He brought my hand to his lips and started, "First, you blink. Always three times, like you are giving your sleep three chances to leave before you charge head-on into your day. Then, you yawn and stretch, like you're breaking the enticing bonds that sleep had you tangled up in. And then, when you settle and realized that I am still here in our bed when you wake, your eyes flash and you smile, like you can remember all of the days I would wake you up with a kiss and we would make love." Cirvel said all of this while slowly, so slowly moving closer to me. As he spoke, I knew all of his words were true.
"You are right, my love," I replied. I placed my hand on his cheek and marveled at his beauty. How had I managed to snag one so wonderful as him?
"How am I so lucky to have you?" he asked after a quiet moment of holding me in his arms. "I love you," he whispered softly, and then he kissed me. I knew in that moment that if everything in my world was to fail or leave me, I would have him and that would be enough. That would be more than enough. He was my rock, my steadfast, and that was how we would survive: together.
"We must get out of bed," he said when our kiss tapered off.
"I do not want to though," I protested. I kissed his lips softly and for a moment I forgot that we were moving out of the forest, that we were needed, and we had to leave this bed, our bed.
"We have to," he pushed, though he didn't move; save just to pull me closer.
"We must…" I conceded. "Fine." I tried to move away, but he would not let me out of his embrace. "Cirvel, my love, you must let me go if we are ever to rise and meet the day," I reminded him, grazing the tips of my nails across his back, which made him shiver.
"I must let you go? You must let me go. Your legs are wrapped around mine," he answered, without missing a beat.
"They are?" I teased. "Oh, look at that. They are."
-o-
The group was ready to leave. Some of the deployments were standing looking impatient in front of a cart full of the party's belongings, and others were tending to the horses. I clutched at my husband's hand as we walked to the party and mounted our horses. We had already said our goodbyes, had eaten a parting meal, and I had been pulled aside for a final private word with Galadriel.
She had kept her wisdom and advice brief:
"Do not fear that you will not prove your worth, for you will never fail if you believe in yourself and trust in what you believe in."
"Thank you my lady, I will remember that," I had replied, not entirely sure what to make of her cryptic advice. I was sure that as always there was something much deeper and more important than what remained floating on the surface.
As we spoke to our horses, asking them their favor in bearing us hence, I turned to look at Galadriel and the family that I was leaving behind. I knew that I would return, but not knowing when that would be frightened me… I hated to think that I did not know what would happen after this moment. I turned back to face my beloved husband and shared a long look with him. He nodded at me and mouthed, "Have faith, my love."
I did have faith. I know I did. I was just frightened that my faith would only get me so far.
-o-
The trip was stressful, wearying; unending at its worst and enjoyable, enlightening and fascinating at its best. Travel was slow going. I was Her Majesty's near constant companion, and we got to know each other quite well as the days wore on. Days were spent on horseback more or less in silence, with the occasional story to tell as they were recalled, song as the moment saw fit, or outburst from Dalahíl, an outspoken guard whom my dear husband seemed to be quite amused by. He would ride next to Dalahíl for hours on end, speaking and building an easy friendship with the considerably younger elf. I was just happy that Cirvel had found someone to speak with. Part of me had been worried that he would not adjust well, but I realized quickly that that had been a ridiculous thought. It made much more sense that I would be the less adaptable… Cirvel had always struck out and been the more adventurous of the two of us.
The nights were quite the opposite of the days. At night, a small fire was lit and camp was made, and while the horses rested, we would sit and talk. Stories were told, songs were sung, and as the days progressed my husband and I felt welcomed into the company and the camaraderie. Most of the guards already knew each other, and the queen was much beloved amongst them, but my husband and I were unknown variables amongst the collection of elves.
It was early in the morning of the fourteenth or fifteenth day that the Queen gasped, breaking the easy silence that had settled after another guard, Belvith, had brightly told us an amusing story about his daughter learning to walk and where the softest bits of earth were in Mirkwood.
"I can see the forest!" She pointed excitedly ahead of us and laughed jubilantly. She touched her not-yet-showing stomach and said in a sweet, motherly voice, "We are almost home, little one!"
Despite the clear day, I could not yet see what Mirwen could. She was with child, and as her body's own protection, all of her senses were enhanced. "I will trust your eyes, Mirwen," I called to her. "But my own can only see the surrounding, seemingly endless plains."
"My eyes can only see the rear end of Cirvel's horse!" piped up Dalahíl.
"Raise your eyes a little higher and you could see my rear end," Cirvel returned.
"I would prefer not to stare, you might tell my wife," Dalahíl replied without missing a beat.
"Who was brave enough to marry you?" Cirvel teased with a laugh.
"Now, children," Mirwen interrupted from the front.
"Do you think we will reach the woods by nightfall?" I asked Mirwen from my spot beside her. She turned to me and, with a small smile and bright eyes she responded,
"I certainly hope so." She fidgeted on her horse and frowned for a few moments, glancing down at her stomach. I held out a hand to touch her shoulder. She jolted, seeming unaware of my intention, and when she noticed, she beamed. "Thank you," she said softly, as she came out of herself and her thoughts. "The little one sensed my anxiety and was getting upset."
"I understand. It would be best that we press on and get you home soon," I suggested. Mirwen nodded and increased the pace of her horse. Like a flock of birds, the company increased pace along with her. She was the monarch, the leader. We would follow her anywhere.
Anor had long since begun its descent when we entered the border of the forest, and beneath the green canopy, it was very dark and murky- but yet not oppressing in its gloom. We rode through the darkness for a time, probably hours, with each one that rolled by seeming to stretch out longer than the one previous, before coming to the edges of civilization.
It started with a smattering of homes and families; slowly increasing in number as we neared what, I came to understand, was the epicenter of life in the forest. People came out to greet the queen and her company, and I realized exactly the extent of her kindness and truly how well loved she was. The palace was not actually entirely underground, as I had heard rumored in Lothlórien. There was actually quite a large structure aboveground. Based on what I could see, the interior of the palace would be massive and labyrinthine… a drastic change from what I was used to with the open-air system in Lothlórien. I could only hope I would not get lost too often!
Whilst I was thinking these daunting thoughts, out from a massive pair of wooden doors scampered a little elfling with long flaxen hair flying behind her. "Mama! Mama!" she called. Mirwen dismounted her horse quickly and the little girl flew right into her arms. Mirwen wrapped her up in her embrace and the mother-daughter pair laughed together. "Caralas, darling, I've missed you!" she said happily. Following the little girl walked none other than who I rightly assumed was King Thranduil himself. Caralas was the spitting image of her father, flaxen hair and sharply defined features, even in such a little face. When Thranduil reached his wife and daughter he wrapped them both up in his embrace and held them close.
"Welcome home, bess nín," he whispered, giving her a lingering kiss on her lips.
Mirwen beamed up at him and, holding her daughter close she said, "It's so good to be home at last."