Preface:
Most elves were known to have seen the beacons of light brought to them by the lamps of Valar. Some however, chose not to see the light of the moon and sun and venture west. Those who stayed in the mountains of the east, followed the darker kind into the realm of Utumno. There, their bodies evolved to camouflage with the beautiful iron and obsidian so prevalent in the underdark of Utumno. With the darkness and heavy magic, an Elven Prince, fled with his army to the light of Middle Earth./span/p
There, the dark elves were still seen as Less than and not welcomed to the tribes of Elves of Middle Earth. Though they possessed great, raw magic of the earth they walked beneath and above, they were not trusted and forbidden to venture past the shores of the Grey Havens. What kingdoms would welcome them and bring a future to their kin? Gondor.
Chapter One: The Godswood
The few moments Jon felt like a loved son was with his father meditating in the Godswood alone. Together, they would groom their blades, braid rope, and listen to the winds carry words of the old. Jon longed to know stories of his mother but knew it was a moot point to bring up to his father since he knew how to speak. As of late, the soft sounds of the whetstones rhythmically sliding up and down long blades have been accompanied with the high chirp and yips of a small white wolf pup.
Jon would glance to see if his father was bothered by Ghost's constant voicing of boredom. Their eyes would meet, and Ned's smile would sparkle in his eyes back to Jon. Then a chuckle would be shared between the two. "He talks more than you in a week," Ned would chuckle back. Jon sniffed and smiled, "yeah, I suppose he does just that". Before Jon could continue, Ghost stopped suddenly from a whine to a snort and dove right into the water beneath the Weirwood tree. Ned got up and Jon jumped right in. The pond was deep enough to swim in, but this time, it had changed and the depth seemed endless.
Ned watched before him Jon plummeting further and further down after Ghost. He only knew this from the flickers of Ghost's star piercing white fur between shadows of Jon's arms. Preparing to jump in after his boy, he placed cloak and sword together and bent to the edge of the pond. The shadows and light changed and a glimmer of bright moonlight began to pierce through the dark water, showing Ghost, and Jon, carrying another creature with long silver hair.
Jon heaved to the surface gasping for air and pushing his pup onto the land. Then a woman's body heavily garbed surfaces from his hands into his father's. Regaining his breath and awareness of his location he hurled out, "Father! She was there! Is she alive?" Ned turned her body over and saw before him a warm copper skinned woman with hair as bright as moonlight. Her cloak was covered in a myriad of animal hides and feathers, and tied to her waist, two scimitars with foreign scribing upon their blades. Checking for life, he brought his ear close to her mouth and spied the strange formations of her ears and tattoos upon her neck and temples. There was no breath. He opened her lids to see shockingly golden eyes. He was not familiar with saving those who have drowned, but his instincts brought her back over his knee and he swatted her back several times. He placed his fingers in her mouth searching for any way that he could open her way to take in air. Moments passed what seemed like eternity to Jon and his father; a large inhale came from the once limp figure and the body pushed back from Ned onto the ground.
Coughing and heaving came over and over while Ned and Jon just knelt back from her in astonishment. Then, what seemed to be words coming from her seemed like a bombardment of distant notes of a song from a foreign land. "Who?! My love?! My wind?! Where am I?". Jon knelt to her to hold her while Ned calmed her with her hands in his. Slowly and quietly he asked, "are you a child of the forest? I know not what you are speaking. How did you find your way here?" Her head turned sharply to meet his eyes and she looked long and deep into his gaze. Ned felt as though she was not just staring straight into his spirit, but into the spirits of all his ancestors who came before him. A pull from inside pushed him back to the present and he placed his cloak around this dark woman with silver hair. In shock, Jon urges his father, "Lord Stark, she's not a wildling, I'm sure! I don't know what caused me to pull her out, but I'm not sure it is safe for her here.
Looking into her yellow cat eyes, Stark leans in, "Tell me your story".
Ilsenia
The Age of Elves has all but disappeared in lands of Middle Earth. The High Elves and Grey Elves wandered to the Undying lands, leaving the forests, plains, and mountains to the humans. Ilsenia sat beneath a weirwood remembering when her spirit father Haldir passed from the lands and did not ever receive the blessing of the sweet winds of the Bay of Eldemar. She peered at her hands upon her lap and see the necklace her mate made for their daughter. Now she is gone too. Ilsenia should have agreed with Legolas and taken their daughter to the undying lands instead of remaining for the sake of Middle Earth. Her kin who remained felt the call and the disparity of never being able to go after the invitations had ended. They walked in darkness and fog not knowing the fate of their spirits. They wasted away when no one was looking. This will be the fate of her as well. Legolas was too far away to stop this and she has given all of herself to this land. Now her body will be a part of it too
The ghostly grey wind blew through her calico cloak, bringing a once strong and steady figure to her back upon the white tree with fiery leaves. Clutching Lesiery's chain, she closed her eyes.
From the darkness a blue light came flooding toward her. Was she being born upon the bays of the Undying Lands? Was it possible? Why is it so painful? A hand grabs her upper arm and pulls her from the darkness. Out from the murk, launching upon earth, she is born again. No. She is still holding her daughter's chain, drenched in heavy clinging animal pelts and feathers; her father's scimitars pushing into her sides. A man's voice calls out and another responds, but all voices seem just a bombardment of sound. All that encompasses her thoughts is her Legolas and home. In a moment, she catches more words recognizing them as the words of the men of Gondor. She knows these words. She know or knew the face and the hands holding her. How? How can this man before her be alive? Around her great pulses of magic come from the earth in these woods. This is not her lands. He is not a Steward of Gondor. Something is different and yet the same. Inhaling, she gazes into this familiar man's eyes and sees Boromir, Faramir, Aragorn, Arwen, Eowyn, and Eldarion. So many faces and crowns. She has reawaken in a time long past the age of Elves in a realm far from her lands. The Weirwood, it brought her back.