Chapter 35:
Family History
Author's Note: Okay that was annoying! Anyone else enjoy the time when the site went down? I didn't! Anyway, just in case this happens again, I'm also uploading this story (of the same story name and username) on Archive of Our Own. So, if you don't see a chapter in another day or two, check there because likely went down again.
Anyway, this chapter can be considered as filler with a minimum bit of plot inserted here and there. If you're not into sexual content, feel free to skip the end and wait for the next chapter :)
Enjoy!
Artemis crossed her arms as she gazed out the window she shared with the professor. Behind her Laurel Moruni sat at a writing desk penning letters. One would go to Ailya and another needed to be given to Lord Denethor, Steward of Gondor. Those letters would find their way into Artemis' possession once completed and she would bare them to Minas Tirith upon her departure from Lorien. Normally, Artemis wouldn't care about the strange ways of the professor, but the old bat insisted on her staying put while she crafted her clever words. She felt antsy as of late - like there was something she needed to do, but couldn't discover what it was.
In the forest below walked her niece and the mostly human she'd married. They strode hand-in-hand casually caught in whatever private conversation they were having. Artemis frowned at the sight. Things were much simpler when her niece was just Brianna Davis, Huntress of OLYMPUS, with no memory of who and what she was. Even with the events that had taken place during the Second World War, the young elf girl who was Brianna had been happier. She had her team consisting of Mafortion - the teacher, Karen Gillian and Alyan ven Brethil - both veteran apprentices under the direction of Maf, Matthias Smith and Allyson McKenna - both a wizard and witch who were too brilliant for their own good, and Brianna Davis - an elf with no magical ability but could think creatively enough to figure out the magic of the runic language and become the best at stealth and combat.
The rag-tag group had been thrown together by her directive mostly because Smith, McKenna, and Davis couldn't bother to stop being brilliant enough to actually bother learn how to work with everyone else. Brianna's case had been special. At the time, she hadn't shown an ounce of elemental magic and suffered the consequences of the lack. Elven youth could be cruel when faced with someone who seemed lesser than they. Many of the young elves inducted into the academic side of OLYMPUS came from lesser houses or from the common families who submitted under a lord's rule. As a rule, all elves had magic and could use it well with practice. With Brianna seemingly born without any connection to elven magic - something that was rare but not unheard of - the shunning of her peers was inevitable.
She closed her eyes at the memories.
How many years had she simply sat and watched while her niece unsuccessfully attempted to bond with her peers? All to keep up with appearances, Artemis hadn't been able to extend any comfort to the girl beyond that of wise words most unhelpful. When her unhappiness became apparent, Artemis improvised a team of brilliant misfits and placed Maf at the helm of it. The half-elf loved to take in strays and had the unfortunate - but lucky - inability to tell her "no".
She smiled at that.
There were a few… issues the team needed to work through before they accepted each other. Alyan and Brianna, in particular, had a particularly volatile relationship. It'd been so problematic to group dynamics that Maf had come to her about it. They eventually worked it out. She pulled a face at that particular unpleasant memory. The ensuing romance that came out of it had surprised her to say the least.
Then Brianna'd lost him to Ba'al - the monster of a Raiphahim - who'd slowly skinned the boy alive over several weeks while her niece, McKenna, and Alyan were held in captivity. To this day, Artemis didn't know the fully story of their captivity. She'd known that Brianna hadn't understood the reason why Ba'al had been so intent on getting her to agree to bind herself to him. All she'd known was pain. Pain for the ones who ultimately paid the price for befriending and loving her.
"You're deep in thought," the professor remarked.
"Hmm."
She heard the quill click into its holding jar and the shifting of the professor's body. Artemis didn't turn to look and continued to watch the newly minted couple meander out of Caras Galadhon.
"He's the best chance she has."
"I know. I worry that we've underestimated the virility of whatever curse Aries intends to place on her," Artemis replied.
When she focused on them she saw the way the man, Aragorn, looked at her niece. Adoration, as clear as day, lit his expression like the rising sun. It left her in no doubt of his affection and willingness to immerse himself in the love he felt for her niece. No, it wasn't the man who caused her to worry. Aracasse, her niece, her queen; however, did. While the man's heart was plain for all to see, the queen remained reserved and guarded. It was an expression Artemis both recognized and understood. She'd been there and had remained.
"She isn't you," Professor Moruni said. "The boy, Aragorn, isn't Maf."
"Aragorn and Maf are very different people, I'll give you that, but Ara's an unhealthy mix of myself and Athena. I don't think their union will protect her from the curse as effectively as we hope."
"I doubt it will. However, it might save her in the end. Maybe my foolish student will be forced to battle with it and herself, but I bet the boy, Aragorn, will show the necessary perseverance."
Artemis snorted. The couple stepped off the path and slipped through the trees. In too short a time, they were beyond her sight.
"Will that matter to her? You know she's afraid of what he'll do, how he'll be used against her, and how easily the enemy can kill him!"
"Have faith in the wisdom of the Triune," Professor Moruni said. "Now, enough brooding from you. We have a great deal to discuss and little time at present."
She gestured to the chair across the room. Artemis sighed and took the seat - back straight and rigid as a rod.
"Are you prepared for Gondor? Ailya sent word a few days ago telling of Aries' continuous assaults. The army at Minas Tirith is over-taxed and injured. Their morale is low. It's likely the lord will ask you to fight almost as soon as you arrive," she said.
Artemis nodded, "I figured such would be the case. They're too close to Mordor."
"Yes," the professor mused. "The threat of Mordor should have been taken care of two-thousand years ago. But the past is the past and we'll have to help clean up the mess our people left here. These letters," she tapped the folded parchment papers, "contain important information about how to help fortify the city's defenses and the armor of the individual soldiers. Whatever you can't do make sure Ailya knows to do it."
Artemis nodded and asked, "What will you be doing?"
"I'll head to Mirkwood and deal with King Thranduil," the elder said, smirking.
Artemis returned that smirk with one of her own, "Poor bastard. I hope you won't give him too hard of a time."
"I can make no promises."
Despite knowing Professor Moruni would handle the old elven king better than she, Artemus still wished she could have been the one to make the man uncomfortable.
It was late afternoon before Legolas saw signs of the newly wedded couple emerging from their shared quarters. He smiled in their direction, but didn't draw himself to their attention. The road promised to be long and rife with terror. They deserved to spend as much personal time together as they possibly could. Instead, he chose to spend the rest of the afternoon appreciating the beauty of Caras Galadhon. After spending the morning nursing Gimli and Boromir back to health from the effects of elven wine, the time alone and away from the smell of sick did him well.
As the sunlight began to wane, Legolas noticed the tall silhouette of his aunt, Artemis, glide to the forest floor. He raised his hand to her in greeting. His aunt caught the gesture, smiled and redirected her route to meet him.
"Good eve, aunt. How goes the day?" He asked.
"It goes as well as it can," she replied. "How can I help you?"
"I only wish for the pleasure of your company," he said, smiling.
The answering grin warmed his heart.
"If that's the case, I'm preparing for my departure. You can help," she said brusquely and broke off into a quick stride once more.
Legolas moved to follow a step behind her. An easy silence descended between them. They ascended one of the trees several feet away and ended their trek in what Legolas figured was her room. Neat piles of food, weapons, and clothes were laid out on a big table next to a pack and a thin bedroll.
"Where will you go?" Legolas asked while she began carefully arranging her pack.
"Gondor. Word has come from one of our allies there. Aries has besieged Minas Tirith."
"You will fight Aries?"
She grimaced, "I will hold off his assault. I don't think I'll be able to do much else. A huntress I may be, but I could never match his power even before he began dabbling in sorcery to increase it."
"Our niece is the only one with the power to defeat him," he guessed.
"Unfortunately. Her power is part of the reason why they needed to incapacitate her in some way."
"Ah."
He watched Artemis arrange her extra clothes and a deep green cloak around the food she'd packed. Then, she carefully inserted her weapons.
"Surely you didn't follow me here just to stare at me like a deer in headlights?" his aunt asked.
Legolas blinked, "Forgive me. What are headlights?"
She snorted in a most undignified fashion. He marveled at that. She and Aracasse seemed to have this strange relationship between formal and informal manners. The professor seemed to have the same issue and he wondered if this was typical of all elves from earth. Then there were the strange idioms.
"They're lamps positioned in front of self-driving carriages that are used at night to help the driver see in the dark," she explained.
Legolas frowned. He'd heard of carriages before, but hadn't seen one. Dale didn't use them and Rohan used large horse-drawn carts to pull heavy goods and supplies. Gondor's cities nearer the coast; however, did. He could picture it a little… maybe.
"I'm sorry," she said, not sounding like she actually was, "I haven't spent enough time here to remember that I need to pretend I'm back in sixth century Greece instead of twenty-first century America. Don't try to figure out what I'm taking about. Explaining that would take too long."
He grimmaced. He had been about to do just that.
"I want to know a family I've never met," he said. "I've spoken with Aracasse time enough, but she doesn't know the others as you do. Am I to understand you have a twin brother still alive?"
Artemis appraised him, an amused smirk dancing across her lips. Legolas shifted his gaze to the open window and settled it on a golden leaf several yards away.
"Apollo is my brother," she replied. "He has a wife, Nimaeah from common ancestry, and one son, Landion. Landion is engaged to an elf lady from one of our lesser houses. Like you, Apollo bares some resemblance to your grandfather."
"I understand my grandfather wasn't a good man?"
Artemis frowned and she returned her attention to her packing. The pack was well organized, but he watched her double check her work all the same. As the day changed to twilight, her skin took on a soft glow as his would. Not every elf had that ability to appear as if they were stars fallen from the night's sky. It seemed as though she'd inherited that trait.
"I believe I had an older brother?"
"And two older sisters: Eriaden, Eveldis and Raellien."
Legolas was surprised. His father never spoke of sisters. Artemis finally turned away from her pack and walked to where a long rope hung from the ceiling. She pulled it and waited. A short time later, a pretty elf maid entered. Her hair was silver blond and bound in a long, simple braid. She wore a green dress that brushed the tips of her slippers and a simple rope. Blue eyes glanced at him before turning their full attention to his aunt.
"May I be of service?" She asked.
"A bit of tea is in order, I think? And some fruit and cheese," Artemis requested.
The maid bowed, "It will be done."
She left and Legolas watched her slip out of the door. The sound of a throat clearing brought his attention back to his aunt who looked at him with a single raised brow.
"Your grandfather had this thing about pretty faces," she remarked. "He liked to chase after them and frequently fell in and out of love. To be fair to him, his sister-wife took the life of the only person he truly loved. Some suspect she was his destined one."
"My grandmother?" He asked.
Artemis nodded, "Yes. She was before my time. She was the only one in the court my father pursued in secret. As I understand it, she rebuffed his attempts to woo her several times before finally giving in. I don't remember why she did, but the end result was your mother and your grandmother's murder at the hand of Hera."
Legolas frowned, "Our family history seems to be quite tumultuous."
"It does," she agreed, "but there are some good apples to survive. I'm beginning to think you're one of them, straying eye notwithstanding."
He took some offense to what she'd insinuated. Artemis had done a similar thing to Aragorn shortly after he'd reunited with their niece and he didn't like the consistent mistrust of men she'd clearly possessed.
"I haven't taken liberties with any maid nor do I intend to until I discover the one I intend to marry," he said stiffly.
"Sorry," she said, this time she did sound contrite. "I have a bad habit of assuming things about men before I actually know them. Your resemblance to my father is quite a hard pill to swallow."
The maid returned with the tea and food. Artemis gestured to the table and the tray and pot were appropriately deposited. As the maid took her leave once more, she glanced his way once more before disappearing through the door.
"Take a seat," Artemis said. "Ask me anything you want."
Legolas followed her instructions and reached for a bit of cheese and sliced apple. Wordlessly, she poured some tea into a cup as he ate.
"What was she like?" He asked.
"Athena?" Artemis guessed.
He nodded.
Artemis helped herself to the tea and food before answering, "She was wise, or she tried to be, and lived by a personal code. In some moments, she was brilliant. Aries had seen that brilliance and wanted it at first, but Athena wouldn't have him. She took a vow of chastity on her father's life to keep herself from being forced to take anyone into her bed. She was never good with people. I think her time in court caused her to become a recluse." Artemis picked up the cup of tea and began to sip at it, brows knitted together. "Despite that, she was kind when she could be. That kindness was reserved most of the time, but she showed in those rare instances. She could be ruthless on a few occasions, but not always. I don't believe she had it in her to take any enjoyment out of it. Not like father."
She fell silent and Legolas digested what he was told. He held some memory of his mother, but not enough to completely place her in that memory. After a while, he shook his head in despair. Even with his aunt's description, he still couldn't recall more than a soft voice and a comforting embrace.
"I fear my memory of my mother remains vague. She left when I was so young and my father determined not to accompany her in fear of losing the power he has as elven king," Legolas replied, sadly.
His aunt looked at him, lips curled into a small frown, as she set cup onto the wooden surface. She sighed and rose from her chair to pace the length of her room with hands clasped behind her back. Legolas observed her movements in silence.
"What do you feel about your mother?" Artemis inquired.
Legolas frowned. There were many years of feeling long repressed for the sake of his father to parse through. If he were honest with himself, he hadn't given much thought on how he actually felt about her.
"A feel a longing," he said simply. "I wish to know her, but I know she's beyond my reach."
Artemis nodded and resumed her pacing, "Athena hadn't wanted to leave you, but - as I understand it - your father demanded she leave behind an heir for him to pass on his kingship once the time came. Your brother and older sister argued with him about the matter. Athena had… I think she was too heartbroken at your father's greed to fight ferociously for you. Eriaden didn't have that issue and neither did Eveldis. Athena told me they all but declared war on him," here, his aunt smiled before continuing. "Of course, it didn't work. Your father loved your mother too much to take another wife and Athena had to return to earth to deal with Aries and Hades. I'd always wondered if the deal with your father had caused her to only be able to seal them in Sheol instead of kill them."
Legolas frowned in thought. It was strange to hear about siblings who he'd never met. Stranger still was the second-hand account of their devotion to him in the face of his father. He didn't even remember his mother steeling away from the Greenwood or that she'd considered leaving in the first place. All he remembered was waking one day and discovering she'd gone and a matron had taken charge of his care. As a boy, he remembered an embittered Thranduil who bore his presence with cold regard. After Legolas came of age, the elven king attempted to bridge the chasm he'd allowed to grow between them. For many years, the king's attempts were for naught and it took the situation with Erebor and Thorin Oakenshield to establish a shadow of a son's bond with his father. Even though they were on better terms there was much his father hadn't said; especially of his estranged wife and lost children.
"My siblings… what happened to them?" He asked.
His aunt stared at him for a good long while before she sighed and shook her head. She turned her gaze from him to the window. Legolas waited patiently for her to begin.
"Eriaden became king after Athena abdicated," she said, "No one knows where your mother went after she did. I'd initially thought that she'd returned to Arda for you and your father, but Ailya - a seer - told me that she'd never left earth. I think… it might be possible she faded from the world. Your brother married a nice elf woman and had four children - Frandron, Loranna, Lissiel, and Laraniel - with Frandron marked as his heir. Frandron was Aracasse's father. Eveldis joined the hunt for a time before… before the massacre. Raellien took a human mate and birthed a single child named Hadassah. She never lived past her human husband's death and Hadassah went her own way and rejected her status as a princess of elves."
Legolas looked out the window of his aunt's room, jaw set, "Then I'm the last?"
"You are the last surviving child of Athena. This is only because you stayed behind with your father. Had you not done so, I fear you may have suffered the same fate as the rest of our family," she said, face drawn.
"Surely… surely there are others of our family still alive?"
Artemis nodded, "There are. Loranna's still alive. Her husband is a child of the fae and inherited a long life from his mother," Artemis scowled. "How that boy turned out the good man he has, I'll never know."
There was a story there and Legolas found himself smiling fondly at her as he glanced out of the window. The twilight hours faded and night began to descend like a thick, black curtain. Soon, the blue and green lights of Lorien's magic would blanket the landscape.
"Tell me of my niece, Loranna," he invited.
"That's a particularly long story."
"I have the time and inclination to hear it."
She smiled and shook her head, "I suppose I'll tell you now. I leave the day after next, so I best tell you as much as I can to satisfy your curiosity."
"Thank you, aunt."
They talked deep into the night. When Legolas finally left in the early hours of the new day, his heart felt lighter.
He stroked her naked back and felt her body shiver under his touch. A smile danced across his lips as he pressed light kisses across her skin. Nimble fingers danced down his back and tangled themselves into his hair. His elven name left her lips. Gently, his calloused hands guided her back to the soft blanket while his lips moved to her breasts then beyond. His mouth enveloped her folds and she gasped and moaned. When he looked to her face, heated teal eyes met his blue and further stoked the flames of his need. His tongue thrust into her, searching her, causing her entire body to tense and shake.
Light, high-pitched, gasps escaped her lips at the flood of her release. She tilted her head back against the blanket - their only protection from the hard ground - and pushed his head into her. Once the tremors subsided, Aragorn lifted himself from the ground and hovered over her once more. Aracasse smiled and shifted underneath him to allow better access. She clung to him as he entered and they began their rhythmic dance.
She rode him through her pleasure, keening for him with each thrust. Aragorn grunted and breathed out against her ear. The action caused another shudder of pleasure in her and all reason left him. A short time later he buried his head in the crook of her neck as his own release shook through him. When it subsided, Aragorn removed himself from her and settled on the ground beside her. Aracasse embraced him, smiling against his bare chest.
Absently, he stroked her bronze hair. Each silky strand slipped through his fingers and settled in his palm. He marveled at her softness. A warrior she was, yet she felt as soft as velvet. Sunlight peered through the leafy canopy above and glittered across her hair. She peered at him from long eyelashes and stretched out her hand and cupped his cheek.
"I love you," she whispered.
He kissed her brow, "And I you."
They lay on the banks of the Nimrodel and listened to the water tumble across the peaceful realm.