Hi!
Carrie and Emmithar here!
We are proud to bring you the first story in our new series, called "Atta Palurins." Translated from the Elvish, it means "Two Worlds." You will be happy to hear that this is complete, but we post as fast as you review! For that is our law: review. LOL. That is our fuel. Without reviews, it takes me (Carrie, because she posts =D) slower to update. So only you can decide how fast I get the chapters up.
With that being said, we both hope you enjoy this! We have worked equally hard on this, and even though Emmithar is not posting, I demand that you reviewers give us both feedback! No one worked harder than the other here. So, with that said, we hope you enjoy the fruits of our labor. *grin*
Disclaimer: We own nothing. End of story. (please note that all unrecognizable names belong to us, so ask before you borrow.)
Additional disclaimer: We do not own any Phil Colins songs. They will appear in this story, and in others, from time to time. They are not ours. We are also basing this story on the fact that Tolkein never left much to work with about Legolas' childhood, or his mother.
Summary: Why do we never hear of Legolas' mother? Who was she, and what happened to her? This is her story, and that of the bond that can only be shared by mother and son.
Rating: PG *stares at it in shock* That's right, everyone, no physical torture! The rating is for emotional angst. =D
Other stories in this series: None so far. There will be a list soon, though.
Thranduil's face was pale from lack of sleep and his eyes were strained and anxious. He had his arms buried deep into the sleeves of his maroon colored robe in order to keep them still from the constant shaking, but he could not keep himself pacing back and forth in the corridor. He knew he should be in their room, but he just couldn't go in there…seeing her lying on the bed, pale and in pain, brought back horrible memories of the time when he had first seen her. He knew this was supposed to be a happy moment, but that didn't stop those thoughts from plaguing his mind and chasing away any thoughts of sleep.
He had been on an outing that had taken him far away from the palace, farther than he had intended. He was with his best archers, and they were to meet up with the Lord Elrond's twin sons and some of his warriors later on. He had not been happy about this arrangement, for the two lords possessed no great love for the other, but it was the only way that they would have a hope of cleaning out the orcs who had been terrorizing the shores of the sea. It was a good distance from both their realms, but they were orcs, and they could move farther out, and closer to their homes. They had both decided that it would be best to exterminate them while they had not started to infest their territories. The tension between the two groups of elves had been great, and the constant bickering among them was almost worse than fighting a whole army of orcs. Shouting and insults had been thrown back and forth, and so involved were they in doing so that they had let down their guard, and allowed the orcs to sneak upon them before they were able to break through the trees and get to the shore.
The battle had been fierce, and it was even more difficult because they had been caught unaware. But the orcs were no match for the vast number of elves, and they were soon able to defeat the foul beasts. It was when they were turning around to move farther downstream to see if they could clear out anymore when he had seen her.
Thranduil closed his eyes as he remembered how she had been lying there. She had been so close to the sea that the tranquil waves were rolling gently against her still form, moving back and forth in a lulling rhythm.
If he hadn't of looked back…
But he had, and he didn't know where he would be now if he had not.
Anger welled up inside of him as he went over to her and saw the marks, bruises, and scars that hinted at the torture she had received at the hands of the orcs. He knelt down beside her and turned her over gently, as to not disturb any hidden injuries that she might have. He brushed her beautiful golden hair behind her pointed ears, and as his hand touched her cheek, she moaned softly and her eyes struggled open.
Soft groans coming from inside their bedroom signaled to Thranduil that something was about to happen. He could hear the feet of the healers he had summoned moving rapidly across the floor, and the Elven King closed his eyes as he leaned against the wall next to the door.
"Who…are you?" she managed as she tried to focus upon his face.
"Shh…" he whispered softly. "Everything is going to be all right. You will be safe now."
She closed her eyes then and relaxed, and as his hand left her cheek, the corners of her mouth turned upwards into a small smile.
Thranduil sighed deeply and a brief anger surged through him as he remembered how she had ended up there, by the sea, close to death.
"My name is Feaear."
She had just got passed the worst of her injuries, and the two of them were sitting in chairs in one of Thranduil's guest rooms talking to each other. A blazing fire glowed in the hearth, eliciting a warmth that filled the air.
She smiled sadly as she continued, "I was given that name because I was born near the sea, where the small community of elves whom I dwelt with lived. I have happy memories there, up until the time quite recently when a band of orcs raided our village. Many of the elves were killed, including my parents, and those who weren't were taken prisoner, like me. The others who were with those orcs gradually died as a result of the harsh punishment they received. I have no idea how I was able to survive. I like to think that my parents were watching over me, giving me the strength I needed to carry on."
Her gaze moved to the fire and she let out a quiet sigh. Thranduil leaned over to her and placed his hand over hers. Feaear lifted her eyes from the flames and locked gazes with the Elven King.
"But now it is time for me to move on," she continued, the smile finally reaching her eyes so that they sparkled faintly. "I do not know how I will ever be able to repay you, Thranduil, for saving my life."
"You can stay here with me," he told her, "for it is lonely in these halls when one is king. The truth is that I love you, as I have since I first saw you. I would gladly accept your company."
"Lord Thranduil?"
The Mirkwood king lifted his head in surprise as the voice of Sanacylyn, one of the healers, invaded his thoughts.
"Yes?" he inquired, his voice tinged with weariness.
Sanacylyn smiled down upon the tired king and responded, "You have a beautiful boy, my Lord. He is one that would make anyone proud."
Thranduil smiled and followed the healer inside the room. Feaear lay upon the bed, and although the strain of the last hour or so was still evident on her features, she beamed up at her husband as he entered the room. She pushed herself up on the pillows and her tired but contented smile met his face. As Thranduil's eyes moved further down her body, he saw the little bundle that she held tightly in her arms.
He moved closer to her and sat down on the edge of the bed. Wordlessly, he reached out with his hand and touched the face of his son gently and stroked his golden hair. The little Elf stirred in her grasp, struggling to open his eyes. A small whimper came forth as he lay his head back down upon his mother's chest.
"He's beautiful," the king breathed.
Feaear smiled wider at him, glad that he was pleased.
"What have you decided to call him?" he inquired then, his gaze riveted to that of his sleeping son.
Feaear looked at her new son fondly and replied, "Legolas."
TBC