November 11, 2006
Disclaimer: I repeat, I DO NOT own Lord of the Rings! I only own what you can't recognize. K? K, so don't sue me!
A/N: Three things:
I have decided that I will not be writing so much in Elven, since the variation I use is less commonly known and people don't seem to like having to look for the translation…Plus, I don't even know all that much, just key words and phrases…So, from now on, if it is in bold, then it was originally said in Elven. Ok? However, I will keep names and nicknames that are originally in Elven in that form (i.e. Ada Father, Selli Sister, Otorno Brother…)
I just wanted to clear up with all of you that Lúthien Anwamanë has nothing to do with Arwen's relative; they just share the name…Sorry for the confusion!! . '
OK, I will be answering anonymous reviews through here, as I answer all others through they "reply" tool…and here is the first one! If you don't want to read me being very bitchy just skip over it…
ºº Mrs Huggins: well excuse me for breathing! I have no clue what you have against me, but let me make some things clear… To begin with, despite what you may think, not everybody is LotR crazed. I mean, I love Tolkien's works, but I have not studied it from cover to cover, and so I do not know Elven. I actually do know basic phrases in Grey Company Elvish, and I thought I might use it here, thinking people were a wee bit open minded around here. They usually are, you just seem to be a freak case, and much of a BITCH, if I may say so (and even if I may not). Oops, did I really say that? My bad. But anyway, given that I already speak Spanish, English, and French fluently, I don't think it such a big priority to learn a made up language nobody speaks outside the FF world. Then again, some people just don't have a life, and have to memorize every single word with the mere purpose of going out there and flaming people's stories. But moving on, because, you see, I don't care if I offend you. I did not go to some "idiotic name generator" as you so graciously put it. In fact, I dislike name generators greatly, as they come up with the most annoying names one could possibly think of. Also, Tolkien himself recycled Elven names, having had at least 2 elves named Legolas in his works. But I guess you already know that. Right? And so I am completely in my right to use the name Lúthien, and I shall use it for my character. Because she is my character, even if you insist she is not…you see, I am merely using the name, and most everybody already knows Tolkien came up with the name. The personality is all mine, just like the plot. Which is something you should learn about, as you seem to focus merely on the most ridiculous factors of this story, ignoring the plot all together. So, next time you try and flame somebody, think a bit about it, because it just may be that that somebody will have the guts to answer back, and set you to rights. Got that? Good. Now get your damn and shitty self out of my story, as you don't seem to have the courage to sign under your user name and let me block you. ºº Estrella ♀
Chapter II—A Perfect Masquerade
Lúthien sat carelessly in the library, books spread all around her, humming softly to herself. She had finally finished the last book Gandalf had assigned for her to read, and now she did not know what to do. Finally she decided to put all the books back in their places, and she stood up and began to pile up the books before taking them to the shelves. There were over 20 of them, varying in topic from weather magic to the different races in the Middle Earth. Lúthien had gathered almost all of them when the door opened, causing Lúthien to drop all of them. She silently cursed and kneeled down to get all the books. Whoever had entered the library walked towards her but stopped a few feet away from her, not making a move to help.
"You could help a bit, could you not?" shespat angrily, before looking up at who it was. Once she saw the face of the intruder she gasped and a smile filled her face. She got off her knees instantly, and threw her arms around the tall wizard's frame.
"Ada! You have returned! I'm so relieved! The hobbits got here two days ago, and I was worried sick!"
Gandalf smiled and hugged his adoptive daughter back. She really did look relieved, and her eyes looked like a heavy weight had been lifted from her.
"I did not mean to get delayed, dear. I would have come sooner, had it been in my power, but dark times are coming, and I had to deal with something."
Lúthien nodded and kept picking up the books. Rather than put them back, she decided to put them on her table and go talk with her "father." They walked around Rivendell for a while until Gandalf sighed and stopped Lúthien.
"All right, Lúthien, what is worrying you? I can tell you are bothered by something still."
Lúthien looked at the floor, evading Gandalf's eyes. She did not want to admit to him that she was afraid of an elf. Still, Gandalf lifted her chin up with his index finger, forcing her to meet his gaze.
"I would have thought," he said sadly, "that after 62 years of knowing me you would trust me."
Lúthien could not stand Gandalf's sad tone, and hugged him tightly.
"Oh, Ada, I do trust you!" she told him lovingly, "I just don't think it is a big deal. It is very stupid, really!"
Gandalf pulled away from her embrace and led her to a nearby garden, where they sat on one of the benches.
"Lúthien, tell me. Please. I want to know what is bothering my tellela (little elf)."
Lúthien sighed and nodded. She closed her eyes for a second and then started speaking. Gandalf listened patiently to her whole "speech," looking lost in thought.
"So you see, it's nothing to worry about! I'm sure he was just tired."
Gandalf nodded when she finished. He looked up at the sky and seemed to be confused.
"Legolas does not usually lose his temper easily. I know not what might have caused him to act as he did. As you know, being one yourself, elves do not usually get angry for no reason, unless…it may be. I should go talk with him. Lúthien, I'm sorry to cut this short, but I will be back soon. I must go talk with Legolas."
Lúthien nodded sadly and sat in the garden for some more time. To anybody going by she just looked like she was relaxing, but in truth she was not. She had not seen either Gandalf or Aragorn for some time now, and now they were both with Legolas. She might have not wanted to break the friendship Legolas had with them, but she had hoped at least one of them would spend time with her. In truth, Lúthien was rather jealous. She might have told Aragorn to still be friends with Legolas, but she was starting to regret it. And what was Legolas's deal anyway? He just came one day, treated her like scum, and then stole her friends/family away! Slowly a single angry tear ran down her cheek. Lúthien dried the tear and stood up. She headed to her rooms and changed into some leggings and a tunic, only to get on Isilme, her silver mare, and gallop off into the forest.
Once she was in a clearing in the forest, too far from Rivendell for anybody to stumble upon her, she got her bow and arrows from Isilme and started shooting arrow after arrow at a tree across the clearing. Much to her discontent, but not to her surprise, none of the arrows hit the mark. She groaned and went over to get all her arrows back and put them back in the quiver. She then decided to try her skill with the sword. She unsheathed it and began a design of thrusts and swings with the sword. For years she had practiced with the sword, and yet she was still horrible at managing it. More often than not her sword never got anywhere near her opponent, and whomever she was fighting against would find a weak spot within seconds. She could only remember two times when a sword had actually helped her, and none were occasions she wanted to remember. Lúthien finally put her sword down and sat down, leaning against a tree.
"Lúthien, face it, you cannot fight," she thought to herself. "You lack technique and grace, and you do not seem to ever pay attention to what your opponent's next move will be. Why don't you just drop it? You are a wizard's apprentice, and you do not even like fighting, so why must you do it?"
But much to her discontent another voice inside her head answered.
"Because you are an elf. Dark times are approaching, we have been told repeatedly, and everybody should know how to defend him or herself. All elves seem to domain one weapon perfectly, and even the hobbits are taking up arms! Do you want to be the only one who doesn't fight? Do you want to be the one who stays behind and everybody laughs at? Do you want your friends to fall one after the other because you did nothing to help?"
Lúthien sighed. She did not want people to laugh at her. She was proud. Maybe too proud actually, and if there was one thing she could not stand, that was for people to laugh at her or think her defenseless. Which was why she must learn to use at least one weapon better than all others. She wanted people to look at her and think, "There goes Lúthien Anwamanë, the most skilled around!" and to fear her, not daring to attack her or her loved ones. She was already Gandalf's student, but she did not think that was enough. Most people did not know she existed, as Gandalf liked to keep his life secret. She wanted to be known all over the Middle Earth and beyond. Already people admired her for being gracious, which in reality she was not. She knew people would love an elleth who could take anything and turn it into something beautiful, and so she was nice and polite to all those around her.
It was not that she wanted to NOT be nice and polite, she just worked extra hard at it to make people see her as the MOST gracious. Most people would never know her true self. In fact, there were only six people who had ever seen the real Lúthien in some way, be it anger, pride, jealousy or weakness: two were her parents, who were dead. One was Gandalf, who still loved her despite it. Next was Aragorn, with whom it was the same as with Gandalf. Then came Gilraen, her best friend, with whom Lúthien felt right at home, so it didn't matter. The last was Legolas. Legolas had seen her in one of her weakest moments, and she would never forgive him for that. There were times, when she stopped to think how weak and un-ladylike Legolas must have thought she was when he saw her, that she almost wished she had been killed by the orc. Almost.
Soon the sun began its journey down to the horizon, and Lúthien decided to return to Rivendell. She got on Isilme and soon she was in Rivendell. To celebrate some thing or other about the Quest of the Ring, there was a ball being held that night. As was expected from her, Lúthien was planning on attending. She just was not so sure if she would stay for the whole thing, for that would mean having to, at some point or the other, talk to Legolas. No matter how much tension built up between them, Legolas and Aragorn were best friends, and Aragorn would want to share that part of his life with her. But maybe, just maybe, and with a whole lot of luck, Lúthien would be able to escape the celebration before Aragorn decided to have her talk with Legolas.
Lúthien went in her room and found a bath already prepared for her. She silently thanked Gilraen, who also happened to be a servant at the palace, for knowing her so well. Lúthien slipped out of her clothes and got in the bath, feeling her strained muscles relax in the hot water. After having bathed and washed her hair Lúthien walked towards her closet to choose a gown for the ball. It was rather chilly out, so something warm was in order. After looking for a while she finally found a good gown for the evening. It was a long dress in soft lavender and cream shades. It tied right under her bust, enhancing her figure, and had a modest neckline, revealing just enough to attract attention but still seem innocent. The sleeves were rather long, falling past her hands, and bell-bottoms, Lúthien's favorite kind of sleeves. After putting the dress and a pair of slippers on Lúthien twirled around her room for a few minutes, delighting in the sighing of her dress.
As Lúthien was twirling around somebody knocked on her door, and she stopped her childish act and walked over. She opened the door slightly, only to throw it wide open at the sight in front of her. Aragorn, all dressed up and smiling, leaned against her doorframe, a gentle smile on his face. Lúthien giggled happily, allowing him to come in as she went back to twirling around the room, a peaceful smile set on her face. Aragorn came in, chuckling lightly, and looked her over. He loved how she looked when she was so happy, her cheeks would get the slightest pink tinge, and her eyes twinkled with happiness. Aragorn was aware very few people ever got to see her like that, and he counted himself delighted to be one of them. Still chuckling lightly he offered her his arm, bowing his head slightly.
"Milady, the ball awaits."
Lúthien nodded and stopped twirling and dancing around. She took a deep breath and composed herself, so that her cheeks recovered their almost color-less shade. Aragorn felt himself sadden slightly. Lúthien always seemed so tense around other people to him. He wished she could just let go of her pride and enjoy life, but she seemed to think composure to be above happiness. Lúthien placed her arm above his, and, winking once at him, started walking out her room and towards the ball. Before the ball there was to be a banquet to which everybody was to attend, and Lúthien had the sneaking suspicion she would end up sitting to one blond prince of elves. Her fears were confirmed when Aragorn led her to the high table, where Elrond and his guests sat. And indeed, there sat Elrond, who was talking heatedly with Gandalf, and many other guests of Elrond, which, much to Lúthien's discontent, included Legolas. To make matters worse, the only two seats open at the moment were beside and in front of Legolas.
Aragorn sat next to him, not before having kissed Lúthien's hand and pushing her chair in. Lúthien smiled lightly at him, for it was a tradition of sorts of theirs to flirt with each other hopelessly. Obviously, they would never act on that flirting, but that didn't stop them from having some fun. Since Lúthien had become the "perfect young elleth" they did not do it so much, only when in private, but Aragorn still acted overly gallant around her. Lúthien, trying to seem friendly, smiled at the elf in front of her before turning to the man sitting beside her. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with dark hair shorn about his shoulders. Lúthien held no doubt he was considered handsome amongst the women, but she was an elleth, and as such she had seen elves much more handsome than he. Regardless, she smiled widely at him and introduced herself.
"Hello, my lord. I am Lady Lúthien Anwamanë of Imladris. It appears I am to be your dinning partner for this evening. It is a pleasure."
The man smiled at her, his eyes traveling over her body for a second before settling back on her face, with a broader smile upon his face.
"The pleasure is all mine, Lady Anwamanë. I am Boromir of Gondor, son of Denethor II," he said, taking her hand and kissing her knuckles, never once taking his eyes off hers. Lúthien sighed contently. Boromir seemed like a pleasant man, and, if she got lucky, he would keep talking to her throughout the night. Following the rules of curtsey, Legolas would not be able to talk to her until Boromir was done talking to her. Besides, Boromir would probably succeed at keeping Legolas off her mind for the rest of the evening.
The meal went by fast, and Lúthien and Boromir never stopped talking. Soon Lúthien realized that she actually enjoyed talking to Boromir, and soon forgot completely about her plan to forget about Legolas (a/n—is that horribly confusing?). Once the meal had ended Boromir, taking Aragorn's "job", escorted Lúthien to the dancing hall. Furthermore, his hand never letting go of hers, he asked her for the first dance of the ball, which, for as long as both Lúthien and Aragorn could remember, had been held between the "siblings". And yet, not meaning to offend her newly found friend, Lúthien agreed, dancing not only the first dance, but also over half the songs that evening with Boromir. Aragorn watched from afar, a small frown set on his face, jealousy taking over him.
"Aragorn, my friend, forget her for tonight!" said Legolas, who had been watching Aragorn's mood steadily decrease throughout the ball, "you act as if she was your lover, not your sister!"
Legolas laughed as if he had just made the funniest joke, but Aragorn shook his head, still frowning.
"Legolas, there is something wrong with that man. His heart is not where it should be. I can feel it even from here. I don't like his dancing with my little sister."
"If you are so uncomfortable with their dancing," said Legolas slowly, "why don't you go ask for a dance? She will not deny you, you are her brother after all."
Aragorn nodded slowly, and decided to take his Elven friend's advice. He strolled over to where Boromir and Lúthien danced and tapped Lúthien's shoulder lightly. Lúthien turned to look at him, her eyes twinkling merrily. Aragorn extended his hand and raised an eyebrow inquiringly. Soon Lúthien had bidden Boromir good night and gone off to dance with Aragorn. Aragorn dipped her low and when she got back up she giggled happily. She loved dancing with Aragorn; he was as graceful as an elf. After a while it started to get late, and Lúthien sighed tiredly. She rested her head on Aragorn's chest, her arms wrapping around his waist in a sisterly embrace. Aragorn smiled, happy with just holding his "younger sister" close. In next to no time he heard Lúthien's steady breaths, and he knew she had fallen asleep on her feet. That was rather weird, as, like any elf, Lúthien did not need sleep all that much. But Aragorn assumed she had had a long day, with the worry for Gandalf, Legolas' threat, and her long ride that afternoon. He put his arm under her knees and took her to her room, setting her gracefully on her bed. He sat by her for a while, just looking at her face. He remembered when he first met her.
He was Rivendell, and was about 7 years old. He had heard Gandalf was around there somewhere and wanted to go greet him, so he was heading to Lord Elrond's study, where he usually received his guests. But, as he was going there, he heard Lord Elrond scream a name loudly. Aragorn stopped for a second. He may be young, but he knew that Lord Elrond did not anger easily. Suddenly a small elleth, who looked to be a bit younger than him, ran into him and looked at him, mischief and fear in her eyes.
"Please, hide me!" she said quickly. At the time Aragorn did not speak Elven all that well, and he just looked at her confused. She pulled on his arm and repeated, this time in Common, with a panicky tone to her voice.
"Please, hide me! I will do anything!"
Aragorn nodded and quickly dragged her to his room. The girl sighed and lay down on his bed, her dark hair forming a fan around her head. It was then he realized she wore her hair down, not in a braid, like other Elven maidens did.
"Excuse me, who are you? And why did you need me to hide you?"
The girl sat up and looked at him, a crooked smile on her face.
"I'm Lúthien. I'm hiding from Lord Elrond. He isn't very happy with me right now."
Aragorn looked at her confused. Why would Lord Elrond be mad at a young elleth? He asked her that, and she fell into a fit of giggles, her laughter bouncing off the walls.
"Well…I may have played a little prank on him…Or rather, his hair. I mean, how was I to know wild berries mixed with ale would cause somebody's hair to turn purple? It sure doesn't say that anywhere, nor had I been told!"
But her tone hid laughter, her eyes giving away the truth. Aragorn immediately liked her. He strode over and sat next to her, extending his hand to shake hers, which she did.
"I'm Aragorn, by the way."
"Aragorn? Well that is one big mouthful to say everyday! Do you use it always, or just on special occasions?" Lúthien asked, amusement in her voice. "I prefer simpler names, names that describe you as you are, not as your parents wanted you to be."
She stood up and walked around him in circles, but suddenly there was a loud knock on his door, and Aragorn heard lord Elrond standing outside. In three wide strides he had hidden Lúthien in his closet and opened the door, to reveal a disheveled Lord Elrond with long purple hair. Aragorn acted surprised, denying having ever seen the "young calamity" lord Elrond was looking for. Soon lord Elrond was gone, and he opened the closet door. Lúthien jumped out and looked at him amazed.
"I know what I will call you! You are Strider!"
Aragorn sighed. It had been a long time since Lúthien had pulled any pranks on anybody, let alone Lord Elrond. She had been so "perfect" ever since the accident, almost as if she wanted to prove to somebody that it hadn't been her fault. Lúthien was around 7, a baby by Elven standards. She had gone out with her parents for a picnic, which, as she had told Aragorn, was going to be the first picnic she ever had outside the actual city of Rivendell. Her parents and her had ridden out early in the morning, and had left word that they would not be back until late. Once at the picnic site Lúthien went for a walk without telling her parents. They soon realized she was gone and went looking for her, not really thinking anything bad would happen to her, but not wanting to take any chances. In the meantime Lúthien had suddenly found herself surrounded by orcs.
She let out an ear-piercing scream and soon her parents ran to where she was. They were not ready to fight 20 orcs, and they soon fell. Lúthien ran to her parents, wanting to embrace them and assure herself they were all right, but the orcs closed in around her. She grabbed her father's sword from his hand and, with a rather disconcerting skill for such a young elleth, stabbed the nearest orc. Orc after orc came at her, and she stabbed them all to death until they all lay around her in a bloody circle. She staid there until late in the night, when Gandalf, who had gone out looking for her and her parents, found her. He had taken her under his wing, and she had staid like that ever since, becoming his student. Ever since then she had been reserved and quiet, and, above all, she had harbored an irreversible fear of orcs. That day Aragorn had lost his prank-mate, receiving a young woman in the shape of a little kid in her stead.
Since that day Aragorn had wanted nothing more than to protect her and keep her from any harm. Lúthien had blamed herself for the accident, thinking that if she had not run off, if she had not screamed, maybe her parents would still be alive. It was a wound she still carried with herself, and Aragorn felt himself hurt too whenever he saw Lúthien bury herself deeper within her perfect masquerade. And yet today a part of her true self had broken though. He knew Lúthien loved balls, and yet she acted distant and aloof at them, not really talking with anyone. But today she had talked with a young man, and she had danced with him, her cheeks pink and her eyes twinkling. Aragorn should have been happy, he told himself, but he could not. Deep inside he knew something was wrong with Boromir, and yet Lúthien seemed so smitten with him. Aragorn knew, almost as certainly as he knew the sky was blue, that Lúthien would end up hurt. And that scared him to death.
