Chapter Twenty-One: A Past Revealed; The Curse
Disclaimer: I do not own the works of Lord of the Rings, this belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien, or the works of Harry Potter which belongs to J.K. Rowling. Any familiar dialogue or scenes belong to their respective owners.
A/N: Hello! Another chapter for you all. As I mentioned before, I'm going to be trying to write and update more regularly now. So, providing nothing crazy happens you shouldn't have to wait too long between chapters!
Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this chapter as we wrap up the scenes with Hermione's past.
oOoOo
'But…' Hermione trailed off as her brain worked strenuously to try and piece the puzzle that she had just been presented with together. She stared up at Galadriel in misunderstanding, questioning if the Lady of Light was jesting, but the solemn eyes gazing back at her held no deception, only curiosity.
Galadriel tilted her head. 'I can see this news has made you ill at ease,' she said gently.
Hermione shook her head. 'There must be some mistake. I can't be a descendant of the Elves,' she countered timidly, her voice quivering slightly. She glanced at the pendant still clasped in Galadriel's hand. 'Maybe this necklace was given to my family… as a gift or something,' she theorised, knowing this had to be the solution.
Galadriel peered down at the gleaming jewel. 'Perhaps,' she whispered, lifting it up to inspect. 'Nevertheless, it would not explain you being capable of unleashing the power sealed within it,' she answered, looking back at Hermione and frowning.
Hermione crossed her arms, a grimace appearing on her own face. 'Maybe I was never meant to…' she trailed off, wondering if Gandalf had somehow been misguided.
'Gandalf was wiser than most and he would have known,' Galadriel said as if she just read Hermione's contemplations.
Hermione stared at Galadriel. 'He may have been wise, but he still made mistakes. I saw them first-hand in the future,' she replied, getting to her feet.
Galadriel smiled meaningfully. 'Ah, but were they mistakes or did Gandalf anticipate for them to occur?' she queried, her eyes twinkling, and Hermione frowned knowing that was entirely plausible.
'But it doesn't make sense. By having this necklace, that doesn't imply it should have been mine. It can't be. When I was learning about the Elves, my parents never mentioned anything about us having Elven lineage. Besides, they were Muggles and Elves were magical folk. I imagine if anyone alive in my time were descended from Elves they would be from Pureblood ancestry,' Hermione determined, believing she had come to a logical assumption, but this still didn't justify why she had the pendant.
Galadriel frowned as she gazed at the pendant. 'Indeed, you are accurate,' she replied gently, her tone somewhat perplexed. 'Perhaps the mirror can enlighten us now that we have the pendant,' Galadriel alluded, turning back to the pedestal with Hermione in tow.
Hermione watched as Galadriel placed the pendant into the water and the rune began to glow. 'I require something of you,' she whispered, pulling out a small ceremonial blade from her sleeve. Hermione's eyes widened, her hand jerking for her wand, but Galadriel made no hostile advances towards her. 'If your blood is blended into the water alongside the necklace, the mirror will reveal to us how it came to be in your possession. It will also tell us if you are, indeed, of Elven descent,' Galadriel clarified, holding out the knife to her, hilt first.
Hermione stared at the knife and drew in a deep breath before laying the edge to her finger. It was so sharp she didn't need force and she winced as her blood came to the surface. She held her hand over silver basin, letting the drops of her blood mingle with the water. Galadriel took the knife and offered her a silk handkerchief which Hermione swathed around her finger.
'Now, look into the mirror,' Galadriel instructed, and Hermione nodded, taking another deep breath before gazing into the clear water.
The water swirled and shifted to produce an image of a moses basket. Inside was a baby wrapped in a green blanket held together with a silver clasp in the form of a leaf. Hermione recalled that clasp immediately as it had lay on her parents' mantelpiece for as long as she could remember. 'It is time,' came a man's voice and Hermione frowned, unable to recognise the voice. Abruptly, the image seemed to leave the pedestal, sweeping over her head and enveloping her in the scene as if she was there. It reminded her of a Pensieve.
A woman was standing next to the moses basket, gazing down on the baby with dread and a deep-rooted sorrow which tugged at Hermione's heart. She didn't recognise either of the people in the room. 'Must it be so,' the woman whispered, tears falling from her eyes.
The image shifted again, showing the man and woman dressed in dark cloaks as they ran along a silent street at night. In the man's hand was the moses basket with the baby. Bewildered, Hermione observed them as they paused at a graveyard which she recognised immediately. It was the one in Hampstead, London, where she had lived with her parents. Her frown deepened as they halted at the gate, lowering their hoods and peering around.
Hermione was unsure about what this had to do with her. Who were these people? Who was the baby in the moses basket?
The man and woman came to a stop at a specific grave. The woman reached into her pocket and pulled out a wand, producing a beautiful bouquet of flowers which she placed into the holder provided for the grave. 'Give us the strength to do what we must,' the woman whispered, kneeling by the grave.
The man watched solemnly for a moment until a small cry from the moses basket diverted his attention to the baby. 'They will be here soon,' he murmured, the sound of creaking attracted their attention towards the gate they had entered.
Hermione had a clear view now of the man and woman. The man was strikingly handsome with black hair, but his features were hard and his eyes dark. The woman was beautiful, her expression etched in sadness. Her long blonde hair appeared to glow in the moonlight.
The image changed again to a small living room which Hermione recognised. She was viewing her home and tears welled in her eyes. Nostalgia became superseded by puzzlement as Hermione saw the man from before pacing in front of the fire, his hands clasped tightly behind his back where he also held a wand.
On a chair near the fire was the blonde woman holding the baby in her arms and cooing tenderly. Hermione's breath caught in her throat as she suddenly recognised the Sindarin Serenade being hummed by the woman. The very same song sung by her parents and heard very recently being sung by Legolas at the stream of Nimrodel. Hermione's frown intensified when the image moved, displaying her parents sitting on the couch uneasily.
'We are ready,' Hermione's father murmured, standing and walking over to the man and clutching his hand on his shoulder.
The man stopped pacing and glanced at Hermione's father. 'We will owe you a debt we can never repay,' he said, his voice cracking slightly.
Hermione's mother stood and moved towards the blonde woman and the baby. 'You have done so much for us. It's the least we can do,' she said, receiving a forlorn smile from the woman.
The woman gazed down at the baby in her arms before standing and offering her to Hermione's mother. 'If the worst should occur, please do not burden her with that which cannot be undone. I ask only that she know our customs,' the woman whispered, tears falling from her eyes as she took a necklace from around her neck and fastened it around the neck of the baby. When she pulled away, Hermione realised with a jolt that it was the Evenstar pendant.
'It will be done,' Hermione's mother and father whispered at the same time.
The water churned again, releasing Hermione from the images it revealed. She grimaced and shook her head as she clenched her hands into fists. 'What… did I… just see?' she choked out, hoping the conclusions being drawn in her head were wrong.
Galadriel gazed at Hermione woefully. 'The mirror displayed to you a past which was never disclosed to you,' she answered, glancing down at the necklace in the water. 'It is evident to me now,' Galadriel whispered, closing her eyes.
Hermione found her eyes drawn to the pedestal again. 'Those people…' she trailed off, swallowing thickly.
'You witnessed the two who nurtured you and taught you our ways, but they were not your biological parents,' Galadriel said contritely, frowning at the young woman who appeared so vulnerable now. 'I can only presume they were prepared to educate you and must have learned what they knew from your birth parents,' she said, reaching out and placing a consoling hand on Hermione's shoulder.
Hermione felt her shoulders sag. 'Do you know who they were?' she asked, staring up at the Lady of Light curiously.
Galadriel tilted her head and reached into the water where she laid her hand on the rune. It glowed for a moment and she withdrew her hand. 'Your father was a descendant of a man named Faramir who is brother to Boromir. Your mother was a descendant of Elrond which is why you have Elven ancestry,' Galadriel divulged, turning to gaze at Hermione. 'The mirror revealed your mother to be Mortal throughout the time we were shown, but this was not always so,' she said, taking the Evenstar pendant from the water.
'Gandalf was investigating your origins. It is regrettable he is no longer with us,' Galadriel whispered, staring back at the mirror. 'Perhaps he discovered more about your past than the mirror can uncover,' she said, tilting her head and taking Hermione's hand where she placed the pendant and closed the girl's fingers around it. 'I sense the life of the Eldar within you as if you ought to be the same as us, but it is akin to a bird confined within a cage,' Galadriel whispered, shaking her head slightly.
The Lady of Light laid a gentle hand on Hermione's head. 'You are what we would call a child of two worlds; of Men and the Elves. You are not truly Mortal, yet you do not have the long life of the Eldar. It is a unique paradox, but not entirely inconceivable. It does present you with a difficult choice, for I have seen the consequence of both,' Galadriel said cryptically, making Hermione frown up at her.
'Choice?' Hermione questioned, eyeing the necklace gleaming in her palm.
Galadriel smiled sorrowfully at this. 'In the eyes of the Eldar you were intended to be born with their gift. Thus, they have accorded you the capability of determining your providence. A child of two worlds can choose to remain Mortal or they can accept the gift of the Eldar when it is presented to them,' Galadriel told her, and Hermione nodded slowly.
'Are there any consequences to which option I select? If I decided to accept their gift, can I still return to the future if that is my wish?' Hermione questioned, but she had a feeling she already knew the answer.
Galadriel nodded, but her eyes were clouded with melancholy. 'To become like us would mean you must journey to Valinor once the time comes. You could travel back to your time, but the outcome would remain the same. It is an inevitability of all Elves who walk this earth,' she replied.
'There is another… problematic issue which will arise if you return to the future. One which will haunt you now, but not when you return,' Galadriel whispered, clasping her hands in front of her.
Hermione stared up at her. 'What will happen?' she asked nervously, almost dreading the answer.
'You will not remember your time here,' Galadriel answered, frowning as Hermione stared back in disbelief at this information. 'You will sleep and wake up without any recollection of being in this era. If you have accepted the gift of the Eldar, it will be as if this was always so. The Valar will call you home and you will find your way to Valinor. If you decide to remain Mortal, your life will resume as it was with the past being eternally altered by what you accomplish here,' Galadriel told her, and Hermione felt tears come to her eyes.
'But why? Why would we forget?' Hermione demanded, striving to keep her voice from trembling. It was an unfair outcome. Returning to the future would mean she would forget everything that occurred in their journey with the Fellowship. All the locations they visited, all the people they encountered, and all the trials they had to overcome. Wait… what about my notebook? I've been writing everything down! Hermione thought, realising she may not remember, but her notebook would have everything documented. 'I've been writing everything down… would I still have that?' Hermione asked Galadriel who had been watching her raptly.
Galadriel shook her head. 'I do not know. It would do you no detriment to continue chronicling your time here as it may remain the same,' she replied, and Hermione frowned. It was an ambiguous answer, but it gave her a small amount of hope.
Another thought occurred to her then. 'If I decided to stay, what would happen to Harry and Draco if they opted to go back?' Hermione asked, fearing the answer would be no different.
Galadriel seemed hesitant for a moment and Hermione felt dread slither into her heart. 'They would forget you. You would be written out of their timeline as if you never existed,' she answered sadly, watching Hermione's eyes fill with tears again.
'I expected as much…' Hermione trailed off, wiping the tears away and took a deep breath. 'I guess the same would happen for me as well if they stayed here,' she whispered and received a nod from Galadriel. 'When will this happen?' Hermione asked, hoping she had more time to document the events so she could look through her notebook to read through what transpired even if she didn't remember.
'Time is fickle; it will not wait. However, there is no limit to the time you spend here. The choice will present itself once you are prepared. Think of it as a trial. The Eldar will permit you time to deliberate and once your heart has truly acknowledged what it is you want, they will know and it will be,' Galadriel answered, stroking Hermione's hair consolingly. 'With regards to returning to your time, I cannot advise on when or how this will happen. I can only presume it will be when your task here is completed. Trust in Gandalf; he would have left something to guide you,' Galadriel told her with a small smile.
Hermione nodded and sighed as she thought about everything she had been told. About her past, her real parents, and what was to come. 'Is there anything else you can tell me about my real parents?' Hermione inquired, a yearning to know what happened to them and why.
'I cannot, but the mirror can,' Galadriel replied, gesturing to the pedestal.
'Can I?' Hermione requested, receiving a nod from Galadriel.
Hermione braced her nerves and gazed into the mirror once more as Galadriel whispered a chant under her breath. She assumed this was a spell of some sort which would command the mirror to concentrate on specific events regarding Hermione's past.
The water churned, exposing a dark living room with a fire smouldering in the fireplace. Seated on the couch were the man and woman Hermione had learned to be her birth parents and on another seat was Gandalf. 'We are no longer safe. He searches for the keys and soon he will locate them,' the woman whispered, touching the Evenstar which was fastened around her neck.
Gandalf frowned. 'Are you certain?' he asked worriedly, getting up and pacing in front of the fireplace.
The man nodded. 'We are. Once our daughter is born, there will be no place to hide,' he said, taking the woman's hand. 'He hunts for the mirror also, believing it will help him retrieve the keys,' the man disclosed, turning to glance at the woman and his eyes softened. 'We have undertaken precautions for our daughter to be looked after should he take us from her,' he whispered, his tone sombre.
Gandalf closed his eyes and leaned his hands on the mantelpiece. 'I am sorry. There is no more protection I can extend which I have not previously provided. While you are a member of the Order, we will do what we can, but you knew the consequences,' he said, shaking his head and turning to look at them.
The woman nodded. 'Yes, we were aware of the risks,' she countered, resting her hand over her abdomen anxiously. 'We wanted to help. This war has gone on for too long,' she added, shaking her head.
The image shifted to another, showing a dreary stairwell leading down into a stone room. There were two large cells, bars down the centre which separated the two. There was a person in each cell and Hermione's eyes widened when she grasped it was her real parents. They had been separated. There was fear in their eyes as footsteps reverberated from the stairs. They crawled to the bars which kept them apart, clutching onto each other as best they could.
A figure emerged from the stairs and Hermione gasped when she recognised Voldemort. 'I will offer you one final opportunity to bow to my will. Join me or you will both perish,' he told them, clasping his hands behind his back.
'Never,' the man spat, scowling at Voldemort.
Voldemort let out a high-pitched laugh and aimed his wand at the woman. She was hurled away from the man and collided into the wall where she remained suspended in mid-air. 'Join me or watch your beloved wife suffer,' Voldemort hissed, his eyes flashing in impatience.
The man reached through the bars towards the woman even though he knew he would not reach her. He stiffened as she gazed at him. 'Do not fret, for we will be together again. I love you,' she whispered, tears falling from her eyes, but she smiled through the pain.
Hermione's breath caught in her throat as shrieks penetrated the silence of the dungeon, echoing off the walls. She watched in horror as a green flash filled her vision, mirroring in the man's eyes which were so like her own. The man cried out, clawing at the bars and ground as the woman's body fell to the ground with a sickening thud. His cries died in his throat as the same green light consumed him.
'Burn the bodies,' Voldemort ordered before turning and heading back up the stairs. The Death Eaters nodded and pointed their wands at the bodies, setting them ablaze.
Hermione ripped herself away from the mirror with a strangled cry and dropped to her knees. Her parents defied Voldemort until the end but, as proud as she was to know she followed in their footsteps without even realising it, their fate was callous. Hermione couldn't get it out of her head; their cries, their screams, their blank, lifeless eyes…
Hermione could feel the tears falling to the mosaic below her, but she couldn't find the will to move. She felt responsible, like this was her fault. From what she grasped; Voldemort was after her because of the "key" which she understood to be the Evenstar pendant. They died to protect her from being discovered.
Galadriel, who had also seen the images within the mirror, went to Hermione's side and placed her arm around the shaking girl. 'I am sorry,' the Lady of Light whispered gravely, eyeing Hermione worriedly.
Hermione couldn't even react. She felt immobile, the images replaying in her mind like a broken record. It was disturbing, making her feel sad and enraged at the same time. She may have never known them, but she suddenly wanted vengeance for the life that was stolen away from her. Voldemort took her parents from her…
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Gimli grumbled as he trailed Legolas back to the pavilion earlier than anticipated. Legolas had sensed something was amiss and wanted to go back. 'These woods are supposed to be secure. What could have happened?' Gimli grilled him, but Legolas remained tight-lipped the whole way back.
When they reached the pavilion, Legolas gazed around and noticed two beds were vacant apart from his and Gimli's. Hermione and Draco were absent from their beds. He listened for a moment and suddenly heard a yell from the edge of the clearing. Legolas sprinted off towards the sound followed by Gimli, realising Draco was standing at the top of the spiral staircase gaping down it in horror.
Legolas almost reached him when the Slytherin unexpectedly sprinted down the stairs and the two chased him down. Draco lifted his wand towards the pedestal. 'Bomba-' he was cut off as Gimli managed to wrestle him to the ground. 'Get off me! I have to destroy it! It's evil!' Draco barked, trying to get away from the Dwarf, but Gimli was much stronger than him.
Galadriel stood from where she was comforting the silent Hermione and stared at the boy in alarm. This action revealed Hermione who was still kneeling on the ground and Legolas frowned anxiously. Galadriel cast a glance and nod to the Elf who walked over towards Hermione.
Galadriel sauntered to the steps, pausing in front of Draco and Gimli, who was striving to keep his hold on him. Galadriel placed a gentle hand on Gimli's arm, and he let go of Draco who made to step past the Lady of Light, but she shifted in front of him. 'Master Draco, be still and tell me what frightens you so,' Galadriel coaxed gently, moving again so she obscured Draco's view of the pedestal.
Draco glanced up at Galadriel with wide eyes and a little fear as if he was seeing her for the first time. 'I have to destroy it,' he gritted through his teeth, trying to look past Galadriel.
'Destroy what?' Galadriel invited, tilting her head curiously.
Draco clenched his hands irritably. 'The mirror…' he countered, his shoulders slumping as he began to calm down a little. 'My father told me about it. He called it the Mirror of Alatáriel,' he described, crossing his arms.
Gimli glanced between Galadriel and Draco anxiously for a moment, but he relaxed upon receiving a small nod from the Lady of Light. 'You speak the truth, Master Draco, for none but few of my kin know the name Alatáriel. It is a name Celeborn bequeathed upon me,' she disclosed, stepping out of the way so the pedestal was in view once more.
Draco scrutinised it timidly. 'I was not told of V-Voldemort's plans to use it, but if they discovered it then it will be something terrible. He could find a way to come here if he knows we are here,' he told her, shaking his head. 'That's why I wanted to destroy it. If it is destroyed here, then it won't work when he gets it,' he clarified, rubbing a hand over his face in exasperation.
Galadriel nodded, gazing over at the pedestal pensively. 'I would like to know more, Master Draco. Come to me when the sun is high so we may speak of this,' she told him, and Draco nodded. He turned away to head back up the stairs. 'Go with him, Gimli. Make sure he is settled,' she requested of the Dwarf who grunted a little but trailed the Slytherin back up the stairs.
Legolas knelt next to Hermione. 'Lady Hermione?' he whispered, placing an arm around her shoulders.
Galadriel turned back to them then and was stunned when Hermione unexpectedly jerked away from Legolas as if he had burned her. Hermione stared at Legolas and shook her head. 'I have to go,' she whispered before rushing across the mosaic past Galadriel and up the stairs.
Legolas watched Hermione go and sighed as Galadriel gave him a probing look. 'What happened?' he demanded, his tone more than a little annoyed. He fathomed her reaction may have had something to do with the kiss Valaria imposed on him earlier in the night.
Galadriel raised her eyebrows at him. 'She is in possession of memories from the past. They have distressed her, and bitterness has darkened her heart. It is understandable, but will pass,' she answered, shaking her head.
Legolas nodded, still not any closer to understanding what it was Hermione discovered, but he knew that was not for Galadriel to tell him. 'She will not come to me,' he said with a frown.
'Then you should go to her,' Galadriel countered as if this was the simplest thing in the world.
Legolas shook his head. 'I do not believe she will have need of my presence. It may prove to be more a hindrance than a solace,' he replied, proceeding past Galadriel towards the stairs.
Galadriel smiled faintly. 'Do not let the events of this evening haze your reasoning,' she said which made Legolas halt in his tracks.
Legolas closed his eyes in exasperation. It was occasionally the greatest burden to know Galadriel could see events which would or could happen. He knew she had undoubtedly observed what had transpired earlier with Valaria. Legolas turned back to stare at Galadriel. 'I imagine one of her companions would be able to comfort her better than I,' he answered, shaking his head.
Galadriel lifted an eyebrow. 'Do you genuinely believe this?' she invited, giving him a knowing look.
Legolas frowned. 'What can I do?' he asked softly.
'Lend her your ear and your shoulder to lean on,' Galadriel answered gently before turning back to the pedestal.
Legolas nodded and made his way back up the spiral staircase. One glance at the pavilion told him that Hermione was not there. He let out a sigh, wondering where she could have disappeared to. He made his way further into the clearing, finding his eyes drifting to her empty bed. Should I remain here for her return? He questioned himself, gazing up at the sky as if it held the solution he sought.
'She went to the stream,' came a voice from behind him and he noticed Draco sitting with his back against the fountain.
Legolas nodded and made his way to her bed where he picked up her blanket. He walked into the trees behind the pavilion and towards the stream where Hermione was sitting gazing into its depths. He hesitated as he watched her unobtrusively, suddenly sceptical about whether he should even approach her. The look she gave him earlier in the clearing expressed volumes. It was like she wanted nothing to do with him. This triggered a twinge of fear in him and he didn't know why.
Hermione glanced over her shoulder at Legolas and he felt rage well in him at the look on her face. Despair, anger and a sorrow so intense it made him want to pull her into his arms and wrestle her demons for her. It was a feeling which also made him want to turn tail and flee. It was foreign and terrifying.
Hermione turned away from Legolas again, wrapping her arms more snugly around her legs. 'What did they do wrong?' she whispered heatedly, shaking her head.
Legolas dispelled the peculiar feelings developing within him and walked over to her. 'I do not know what it is you speak of, Lady Hermione,' he replied softly, laying the blanket around her shoulders, being cautious not to make contact with her in case she ran from him again.
'Thank you,' Hermione whispered, pulling the blanket more tightly around her as if it would shield her from what was vexing her.
'May I?' Legolas bade, gesturing to the grass next to her. Hermione nodded timidly and he sat cross-legged on the ground next to her, but far enough away as to not scare her. She gave him a questioning look. 'What is it?' he invited, tilting his head.
'I just assumed your partner won't be too thrilled if she finds us here alone,' Hermione countered, looking away from Legolas to the stream.
Legolas pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. The statement was harmless enough, but for some reason it incensed him. 'You speak of Valaria,' he replied, trying to keep the irritation he felt from his tone.
Hermione nodded, glancing over at Legolas. 'Yeah, I saw you both earlier and gathered you were together. It's nice,' she answered softly, pulling the blanket even tighter around herself.
'We are not,' Legolas told her, his tone clipped which caused Hermione to look at him with a frown. 'Once, when we were very young, there was a time when I wished it were so. But it was not to be,' he revealed, gazing into the stream.
Hermione glanced away to the stream and stretched out to pluck some grass which she twisted between her fingers. Legolas watched her curiously for a moment before gazing up at the night sky through a gap in the trees. 'Look, a shooting star,' she said, pointing to the sky.
Legolas followed its progression across the sky. 'N-aw a dew anann min. Id emel olth benar nin, iire amin nonen neth, ta en ar Edhel ya ais tov-seere e' gurtha,' he told her, purposefully slipping into Elvish to see if he was accurate in his suspicions. He glanced over at her to see her reaction. (A/N Translation: 'It is a long one. My emel once told me, when I was young, it is an Elf who has found peace in death.')
Hermione smiled faintly. 'That's a lovely way to look at it. Aren't you meant to wish on shooting stars?' she asked him, no longer caring if he knew she understood or spoke Elvish. She didn't even know what the point was of hiding it in the first place.
Legolas raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching. 'Why? What would you wish for, Lady Hermione?' he asked her, gazing at her with such an intensity that Hermione felt her breath catch in her throat.
Hermione swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. 'Libnaid amin pul-ava gar,' she whispered, slipping into Elvish as she gazed back at Legolas and her heart melted when he smiled gently. (A/N Translation: 'Something I cannot have.')
'I knew you could speak and understand Sindarin,' Legolas murmured, his eyes searching Hermione's for a moment. 'Why did you not tell us?' he asked, frowning at her.
Hermione shrugged lightly. 'Gandalf told me to keep it to myself,' she answered, looking away from Legolas to the stream. 'And it didn't seem all that important,' she added, and he nodded before glancing into the stream as well.
Hermione shifted on the grass, so she was facing Legolas and he glanced over at her in surprise. 'Lady Galadriel told me something tonight about Beren and Lúthien. She didn't go into detail about the story itself, but she said it's something all your kin know,' she said, looking at the grass she still had between her fingers for a moment.
Legolas nodded, his expression becoming saddened. 'The tale of Beren and Lúthien…' he trailed off, gazing at the sky. 'Theirs is a heart-breaking tale,' he whispered, shaking his head.
Hermione nodded. 'It seemed pretty sad,' she answered, glancing back up at him. 'Will you tell me the tale?' she asked softly, watching Legolas turn his clear blue eyes back to hers.
Legolas sighed, but he nodded. Hermione was stunned when he shifted his sitting position as well, so he was facing her. 'Beren was a Mortal man and son of Barahir. After the defeat of his companions after the Battle of Sudden Flame, he fled to the Elvish realm, Doriath.
'There, Beren laid eyes on the most beautiful creature he had ever seen, Lúthien. She was the only daughter of King Thingol and Melian the Maia. It is said she was singing and dancing in the glade, and Beren fell in love with her instantly, for she was the fairest of all Elves,' Legolas said with a small smile and shook his head.
'Is that accurate? It sounds very much like any other fairy tale to me,' Hermione invited with a frown.
Legolas gazed at Hermione. 'It is. In those times it was rare for Mortals and Elves to fall in love. Thingol did not deem Beren was worthy of his Lúthien and so he set him an impossible task which he was unable to complete. Nevertheless, Thingol was moved by the lengths Beren went to in order to complete his mission and accepted marriage between him and Lúthien. Once married, Beren participated in the hunt for Carcharoth, who in his lunacy, had come to Doriath and caused destruction there. Carcharoth was slain, but Beren also perished from his wounds,' he told her, glancing at the stream for a moment, lost in thought.
Hermione reached out and touched Legolas's hand which sent a jolt through him and he stared at her in wonder. 'Are you okay?' she inquired, seeing the sorrow etched in his eyes grow as he told the story.
Legolas stared down at Hermione's hand on his and nodded. To her surprise, he laced his fingers through hers and gazed into her eyes as he resumed the tale. 'Lúthien, in her grief, lay down and died as well. She found her way to the halls of Mandos where she sang of her ill fate. The Lord of the Dead, Mandos, was so moved by her song that he took pity on her. He sought the guidance of Manwë, the King of Arda, but he could not alter the fate of Man, so he presented her with two choices. She could be welcomed to Valinor where she would forget her woe or she and Beren could be returned to Middle-Earth to live out their days as Mortals,' he told her, ghosting his thumb over the back of her hand which caused her to shiver slightly.
'What did she decide?' Hermione asked Legolas, utterly captivated in the tale. As he told it, she began to remember what her parents told her about it. This thought reminded her of what she learned, and she looked down miserably.
Legolas frowned at Hermione's pained expression for a moment but didn't pry. 'Lúthien opted to be with Beren, but there was a consequence to this,' he whispered, closing his eyes.
Hermione frowned at the indignant expression on Legolas's face. 'What happened?' she questioned anxiously and wondered if the answer was the reason why this was such a harrowing story for the Elves.
Legolas shook his head, his tone darkening somewhat as he continued. 'Lúthien was told the penalty would be dire if she chose to return to Middle-Earth. A curse would be placed on her kin,' he clarified, gazing up at Hermione who was watching him curiously.
'What is this curse?' Hermione asked, wondering if it was something only the Elves knew of.
Legolas sighed. 'Our curse…' he trailed off softly, glancing up at the stars for a moment before looking back at Hermione. 'We are constrained by a curse permitting us to love only once for as long as we live, which is eternally lest we are killed. This, more often than not, is something we do not fret over as it is rare for an Elf to fall in love with a Mortal,' Legolas described sullenly with a frown.
Hermione tilted her head and stared at Legolas curiously. 'Would that be a terrible thing? Falling in love with a Mortal, I mean,' she asked softly.
Legolas nodded slowly. 'The curse does not extend to Mortals meaning it could end up being a one-sided love,' he illuminated despondently, lowering his eyes to their hands which were still intertwined, and his frown increased. 'If I was to fall in love with one of my kin, it is likely the Elf-Maiden would return it. The curse does not come into force until we are of age. This is the reason I considered Valaria to be the one for me,' he told Hermione, letting go of her hand with a sigh.
Hermione suddenly felt a loss when Legolas took his hand away, but she didn't show it. 'So, what does that mean?' she asked, wrapping her hands around her legs.
'In my circumstance, for example, this is rare. When Valaria and I came of age, I did not fall for her as I anticipated I would. Nonetheless, she fell for me,' Legolas clarified, his eyes clouding over in sorrow. 'This is exceptionally rare and is nothing but heartache for the one who has fallen,' he added quietly. He closed his eyes, no wonder Valaria seeks me out no matter how bitter I am to her. Her heart yearns for me, but I cannot return the feeling, he thought to himself regrettably.
Hermione nodded, feeling sorry for Valaria. 'What happens if an Elf falls for a Mortal?' she asked softly.
Legolas gazed at Hermione, his eyes softening. 'If an Elf falls for a Mortal, there is no guarantee they would return it. We cannot choose who we fall for. Only our hearts have that luxury, but it is not always the best outcome. If we do not fall for an Elf when we come of age, we can end up spending eternity searching for the one our hearts yearn for. If an Elf falls for Mortal and their love is not returned, they would rather lay down and die than live without them,' he told her, his eyes harbouring a great sadness which Hermione couldn't fathom. Had he already loved and lost? Or did someone he know go through this experience?
Hermione nodded and frowned. 'That's horrible,' she whispered, unsure of what else to say to that.
Legolas nodded in agreement. 'Yes, it is. It does get graver though,' he whispered, and Hermione stared at him in disbelief, wondering how it could get any worse than what he told her. 'If an Elf fell for a Mortal who returned their affection, they would likely forsake their immortality to be with them. However, we still have long lives and while the Mortal grew old and died we would remain the same until our broken hearts turned dark and we faded away. It is the most unbearable outcome,' he described, and her eyes widened.
'That's dreadful!' Hermione cried, wanting to reach out to Legolas to show him some kind of comfort, but not having the nerve to do so.
Legolas nodded and got to his feet before gazing into the stream. 'Yes, but this is something we must live with,' he whispered, shaking his head.
'All because Lúthien chose Beren…' Hermione trailed off miserably, appalled that a mere choice could have such consequences. She was reminded painfully of her own options and felt tears come to her eyes.
Legolas glanced down at Hermione and wondered what was going through her mind. He reached out his hand to her and she gazed up at him before placing her hand in his and allowing him to pull her to her feet. He sighed, gazing into her eyes. 'You are unsettled and have had a challenging night, Lady Hermione,' he whispered, turning fully towards her.
Hermione nodded, not wanting to be reminded for now. She just wanted to stay in this serene clearing next to the stream and forget about her grief. 'Yeah, I learned a lot. I'm still trying to process it all,' she whispered, letting a tear escape from her eye.
Legolas reached up his free hand and brushed the tear away. 'You need to rest,' he whispered, leaning down and kissing her forehead tenderly. He took a step away as Hermione reached up her hand to her forehead in disbelief for a moment and touched the area where he kissed her. 'Goodnight, Hermione,' he whispered, turning to walk away.
Hermione watched Legolas go in bewilderment for a moment as she struggled to grasp what just transpired. She shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips and she went back to the pavilion. She got into her bed, wrapping the blanket around her. She eventually fell into a restless sleep which was not pleasant as her mind was haunted by the ghosts of the past.
oOoOo
A/N: So, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it! I really loved writing this scene with Legolas and Hermione more than I did with the original. This one flowed quite easily whereas I felt the original was slightly forced? Maybe I had writers block at the time…
Anyway, please let me know if you liked it in a review/comment!