I OWN NOTHING OF LOTR OR HP AND GAIN NOTHING (BUT AMUSEMENT) FROM THE MINIPULATION OF J.R.R. TOLKIEN AND J.K. ROWLING'S STORIES.
Author's Note- Hello my faithful readers, here is the third chapter as promised. I hope it meets your expectations! A special thanks to everyone who has reviewed or PM'd me; it's because of you guys that I could get this chapter out so quickly… half a week earlier than expected! Enjoy.
Just so you know, the name meanings of characters I make up are generally reflective of the individual's personality and/or position… this being said here are the translations of elvish names found in this chapter;
Dae- Shadow
Lorthonor- Old Pine
Lumornor- Tree Shade
Huron- Readiness for Action/Vigour/ Fiery Spirit
Dimaethor- Silent Warrior
Hador- Thrower of Spears
Megilagor- Rapid Sword
While I love and appreciate the LOTRs elvish language, I'm currently teaching myself Russian and Spanish (and nowhere near fluent yet) and so used an internet translator for the elvish names… my apologies if they're somehow incorrect.
Chapter 3- Of Company and Companions
Returning to her home, Venena began a life of simplicity and determination. She would rise each day and enter into the forest. She would follow the call of nature collecting berries, fruits, barks, herbs, medicines, and nuts eating few and storing much. From the spirit of Este she learned more in the arts of healing and compassion. From Orome's spirit she learned the elven tongue and the Art of the Huntsman. While in the woods, fields, and mountains surrounding her Haven Venena would remain in her true elvish form and exude an ethereal radiance which could shadow even the purest maiar. It was in this form- eight years after the quest of the Lonely Mountain when her home gained her first visitor.
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Aragorn son of Arathorn, in a fit of annoyance at Lord Elrond, had disobeyed his commands, donned his ranger garb, and gone to hunt the orcs who were terrorizing villages of northern Arnor. It was a youthful folly spurred by the fact that Arwen- his eternal love- had called him a child. He departed in the dead of night and rode hard from Rivendel. He made it to a village just south of the Ice bay of Forochel roughly three weeks after departing. By now he was feeling rather lonely and was just a tad sulky; his guard was down and his horse was spent and the Orcs tracking him knew it. As he neared the town, a small pack of wargs lead by a larger pack of orcs began to attack. Aragorn did his best to fend them off, but they had almost succeeded in circling him; he was bleeding from multiple wounds, had obtained a broken arm curtsey of a warg bite, and was beginning to accept that he would die when an elven warrior holding two blazing swords danced her way around the pack slaying first the 6 remaining wargs before advancing on the 18 orcs. The orcs screamed their passing in such a way that it was as if all the torture they wished upon others was multiplied tenfold and directed back at them as they died. Aragorn was fading, but he could have sworn that black, leathery, though still angelic, wings were attached to his savior's back as she(?!) dealt death to the evil surrounding him. He passed out as the figure began to approach him.
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Venena had been tracking a pack of orcs and wargs who had taken it into their mind that it would be great fun to sack the villages closest to her Haven. It was irritating that they grew so bold, but at least they had mostly learned not to come near her home; Venena guestamated that at least 1,000 dark creatures had perished to her wards since she had placed them for they often traveled as packs and at least twice a year a pack would stumble near her dwelling only to be turned to ash. With the wards being up for around 400 years, it was little wonder the numbers added up. She turned her mind to the pack she was currently hunting; there were roughly 23 orcs and 7 wargs and it seemed to her that they were tracking a being as well. She sent out her power into nature and sensed one with a mark of destiny upon him; he was more pure than anything human she had come across, but not as pure as the elven places felt. Considering how saving this mortal could change her course, for before now she had avoided the elves; paying them mind would have changed their reluctance to help Bilbo and without the quest to the Lonely Mountain going as it had, all songs of the Valar would have conflicted, Venena missed the start of the battle.
Hearing the clang of metals and a scream of pain, she leapt into action. His screams reminded her of hers when she was detained in Mordor; remembering this, fury burned within her. She lit a flame to her loyal blades, Cientia and Abscondita, and dove into battle, wishing just a portion of the torture she had endured into those that she slew. The wings she'd gained as Death's Master sprouted as she used power she had gained from Death to slay so many. She set fire to the creatures, pulled in her wings, and sheathed her swords before turning to Elrond's wayward ward. She could sense the elven blood in him and because of this tapped into the healing power of the land, set the bones and stemmed the flow of blood. She then lifted him with her magic and began the half day walk back to her home; she had rarely apparated with another being while in this land and so decided not to risk his health by doing so- one not born with magic did not always take its use for instantaneous transportation well. As she walked Venena hummed; she was not one for singing but would indulge in a healing tune to ease the aches of this boy. As the sun was setting on the northern plane, Evlohimenio Dilitirio- brought her first visitor into The Haven since its creation 398 years before.
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The elven rangers were growing more concerned by the day. They were instructed to travel after their Lord's ward, protect him, and return him to the keeping of Rivendel. In his haste Aragorn was becoming sloppy; in the three and a half weeks they had been after him his trail was becoming more obvious and his mount's gate was becoming weaker. The trail they were following lead them to a burned pile of corpses which they had hastily determined belonged to wargs, orcs, and one noble mount. They tracked the pattern of battle.
Aragorn, they determined, had been ambushed- if one could be ambushed by a pack of beast who had failed greatly, according to their tracks, to remain silent. He had fought desperately but they could see the pool of blood within his lying indention; this could only mean that he was dead or that help had come… but there were no tracks and there was no body. At a loss, they called to their reluctant companion, a dark haired elf who insisted upon being called Sanitas Lamina, though he refused to explain the name. He claimed no Lord, though he was courteous enough to theirs. He had been among them for five years, though none could remember when he had first appeared, and they accepted him as though he had been with them for ages. He had an unusual air about him, tinted in mystery and marred in sadness. He spoke little, angered slowly, and, when he felt it necessary to give an opinion, it was often in a cutting tone and included harsh truths. His accent was such that no elf who had heard him speak could identify his origin. Despite his strangeness, he was accepted for he had saved many an elven life- including those of Lord Elrond's sons- in battle with orcs and, in a strange tongue, he could alleviate the wounds of those most hurt… Even their Lord was at a loss- though he did not admit it- to explain how his healing powers worked. As it was, Sanitas Lamina was a tracker who need not see tracks to follow his prey and so the ranger elves called upon him to find their ward.
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Sanitas Lamina had been plagued with a feeling of apprehension since he had first felt the call to accompany the elven rangers on their mission to apprehend the wayward ward and future king of Arnor and Gondor, 'Gods help them' he thought whenever his thoughts turned to Aragorn and his spoiled youth, 'the hooligan needs a strong dose of reality and an angst check before anyone should allow him to even think on the throne!' When he had arrived in Arda- just outside the wards of Rivendel- it had been accompanied with strict instructions that he hide his Magic and his Tale until such a time as he had been reunited with his wife. He had complied, for he had had enough of the presence of quibbling deities with their arrogant etiquettes and power struggles. He had observed the elven magics of healing and protection and applied his own magic for healing only when using elven ways couldn't be applied in time; they believed him a great healer, though in truth Lord Elrond and his wife were his betters. Now though, he had a ward to find. He stretched out his magic and let out a gasp… it couldn't be! He focused his mind in a frenzy and tested the air and grasses surrounding his party. He had anticipated centuries more waiting before he would be reunited with his love; eagerness limited his thoughts as he began to run.
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The elven party was completely baffled; they had heard the soft gasp loosed by Sanitas and had become confused. Sanitas was never surprised by anything. Now, though, he was running like an elf possessed… it even appeared that he had forgotten the presence of his horse. They glanced around themselves to ensure that their companion wasn't running from anything- though that would have been even stranger than his being surprised- before mounting their horses, taking the reins of Dae- the horse of their mysterious friend, and following after him.
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Venena bathed the slightly fevered face of the mysterious youngling in her care; she had a feeling that the boy needed to learn from his wounds- for whatever had caused him to ride his horse to its death and ignore the signs of an obvious ambush was youthful folly and needed to be nipped in the bud. She had found pain to be an apt teacher and so only cleaned and sealed his wounds; as it was, he would not be fit to travel for many weeks. 'Perhaps coming close to death may teach him prudence' she considered.
She had removed her stores from the bedroom behind the kitchen to an extremely large cellar- which her magic and Nature had seen fit to form under the kitchen; the cliff had extended its rock to encompass this new storage area and so keep anything to be stored cooler if warranted. Her ward, she had placed in the, now clear, bedroom.
She was leaving the young one to attend to a healing salve she was brewing when she felt a disturbance in her wards the like of which she had not felt in neigh four centuries. She unconsciously dropped all pretenses of her physical form and, with a shake of her head, sprinted out to meet her guests.
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Sanitas Lamina had continued to run at such a pace and with such stamina that his elven companions found themselves wondering what spurred him to such speeds. Within some miles of their travel they had surmised that their ward was likely suffering great torture from a mighty foe- for why else would their tracker be in such haste- and so had overtaken him, urged him onto his horse, and followed him toward the base of the northernmost Evendium Hills. As they were approaching the forest surrounding the great hills, they felt themselves pass through a barrier of great power; it felt somewhat akin to arriving in the elven lands surrounding Rivendel or Lorien but the power felt foreign with only threads of elvish power and Nature flowing through it. They drew their swords and prayed to any of the Valar who might aid them to do so… for if the being that protected this land was a foe to them, they knew they were unlikely to leave alive.
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Sanitas, however, reacted very differently than his elvish counterparts when crossing the wards and felt almost complete as his magic began to dance with that of Evlohimenio Dilitirio- his most beloved Venena; it had been long since his magic had the company of another's- let alone that of his mate. He leapt from his loyal Dea and sprinted the final distance into the arms of his soul-mate who had just jumped the brook. With mirroring cries of "Vena" and "Sev" they locked onto each other beside the Thinking Tree. Their hands roamed over each other's arms, torso, back, and face trying to ensure that their mate was solid, was real. Their knees gave out and their eyes met. Venena's wings came around Sanitas protectively as their minds mingled… greeting, sharing, comforting, and living, for in the half hour they remained entangled, they exchanged their tales of separation. They breathed heavily, calming themselves, and soothing each other before leaving each other's minds, sharing a relatively quick kiss (plus some), and rising to greet the waiting elves.
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The elven rangers had born the strange greeting, and being ignored, with much curiosity, great awe, and a respectful impatience. Their fear of a powerful being had turned to great anxiety when they had seen the ethereal female elf charging toward their companion, but their anxiety had turned to complete shock when it registered that the being had wings and that their moody companion obviously knew her. After about five minutes of staring at the duo- who had all but disappeared behind said wings- and waiting to be acknowledged, they realized that it was likely going to be a rather prolonged greeting. Lorthonor, generally accepted as the leader of this group, looked around and, seeing no immediate danger and a general consensus, gave a nod for the others to dismount, sheath their weapons, and observe their surroundings. Lorthonor stayed by their companion, Lumornor remained with him and their horses. The rest of the party; Megilagor, Huron, Hador, and Dimaethor crossed the brook to investigate in the direction from which the being had come.
Soon after crossing the brook, the investigative group let loose gasps themselves, for from this side of the brook they could see the entrance to the Haven- for when the cliff had been brought out to cover much of the spring, it had provided a shield from the north eastern side. The whole of the structure was formed with the mesh of living wood, sentient stone, and crystallized water. Above the first level of the Haven, set into the face of the cliff, they could observe two levels of balconies framed by ivy and climbing rose vines. The combination of forest and cliff was what one might expect if the woods of Lorien and the grandeur of Rivendel combined… though the peace it exuded surpassed both. The elves bowed to the structure, felt Nature's approval at such an action, and returned to Lorthonor and Lumornor. Such a place was not to be entered without the invitation of the being who resided inside of it.
Lorthonor and Lumornor had alternately been observing the winged being with their companion and watching the planes from whence they came and so were surprised to find their companions back amongst them just five minutes after they'd departed. In whispered elvish, Huron, the elf most likely to charge first into action, explained to the two who'd stayed behind, "It is not our place to enter this woods or The Haven within it without a call to do so; we will wait here." Saying this, he joined his companions in sitting by the brook and waiting.
Their leader shared a look with Lumornor before the two crossed the brook themselves. With their view unobstructed, their reaction to the Haven was the same as their companions; they stared in awe for some time before bowing and withdrawing respectfully to the far side of the brook. Huron was correct. It was not their place to invade a place emanating such beauty, peace, and protection; if their ward was, indeed, inside then they need not worry for his safety. Lumornor and Lorthonor joined their companions by the brook and bathed in the purity of Nature they felt permeating the area.
Roughly fifteen minutes- and a magically silenced snogging secession- later, the elven rangers were drawn from their musings as their companion and the Being stood. It was the Being who spoke first, though it did not go un-noticed that neither Sanitas Lamina nor She had released eachother's hands.
"Well met Lorthonor, Lumornor, Diamaethor, Hador, Huron, and Megilagor. Elven rangers, you are most welcome here. The one you were sent to recover is, himself, recovering. Though I feel the touch of Destiny upon him, I believe it would be most wise to allow further healing to occur under his own power; it was youthful follies which lead him to this place; let the pain teach him his lesson." Though her tone held warning that their ward was to be left to heal without further help, her voice was like a balm as the group listened, healing many aches they did not realize they possessed.
Dimaethor spoke up- though it was not often he did so- asking, "Lady, you look as though you are an elf, yet you have wings as though you are an eagle. Your voice has the power of the Valar, but never have I felt wards such as yours. If I may ask…" Here he faltered for he truly wished to avoid offending this Being. He looked into her face and found permission to continue and what might have been veiled amusement. He began again, "If I may ask m'Lady, who and what are you?"
Sanitas Lamina snorted, earning a reproachful look followed by a chuckle from the Being. Sanitas simply raised an eyebrow, held back an answering chuckle, and asked, "Indeed m'Vena, do tell what you are."
Anything she might have responded with was drowned out by a loud explosion and a strange looking vapor escaping from the open cliff-side two stories above the covered spring room. The elves had all pulled their swords at the explosive sound and crouched in a warrior's stance facing the direction of the cliff while the Being cursed in Dwarfish.
Sanitas, however, identifying the sound with practiced ease, turned to Venena and snarked, "I thought the potions explosions had ceased once you'd gotten your masters, m'Lady."
Venena responded shortly, "You distracted me you fiend! They only explode when I'm engaged in snogging you!"
"In this case, I'll accept your excuse… though only if you explain to our confused companions what 'snogging' is…"
Venena gave him her acceptance of terms by banishing her husband into the spring before turning to her very confused visitors and smiling, "I am called Evlohimenio Dilitirio; you may call me Lady Venena or Venena though if you wish. Sanitas is now inside- I expect that he will be dry again by the time we join him." Her visitors exchanged somewhat concerned and still confused looks and so she took pity on them, "I am a being of the Valar, of Elves, of Magic, of Men, and of Death. I banished my husband- for Sanitas Lamina is indeed my husband- to the spring for landing me with the task of explaining the meaning of the word 'snogging' to you…"
The elven rangers, now somewhat less concerned- though generally more confused,- allowed themselves to be lead over the brook and into the Haven as their host explained the dialogue between herself and their companion… They found themselves fighting the urge to blush when they realized that not all that occurred in the hidden embrace of Lady Venena's wings was strictly platonic, but they were intrigued with the idea of potions and fascinated by the puzzle their host presented.
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A note on Healing- While Magical healing techniques are efficient and don't really cause the peoples of Middle Earth harm, they are more strenuous on the body not used to Magic. This means a couple of things;
1) Magic can heal the scrapes, broken bones, bruises, etc but Elvish healing takes to the bodies of middle earthen's in a more harmonious way; Magical healing might be quicker, but Elvish healing is less of a shock to the body. (This is one of the reasons Sanitas Lamina was told to use Magical healing as a later resort.)
2) The longer someone is around Venena, Sanitas, or their Magics (wards, amulets, etc), the more easily their body accepts Magical healing; Venena and Sev are Magical, and as such, the longer someone is around their magic the more accepting their body is of Magical healing. (This is why Venena calls upon Nature, rather than her Magic when patching up Aragorn.)
(Please tell me if I need to explain this more and I'll see what I can do.)
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Author's note- My dear readers, I need to read up on my ancient mythology and middle earth history to ensure a timeline/story that's actually semi-probable, but plan to have the next chapter to you two Mondays from Memorial Day. Please Review or PM me!