AN: Hello my dear readers, yes, i'm back. i have lot to share to i'll see all of you at the bottom. =)))
song: the wisp sings by winter aid
disclaimer: i do not own anything nor am i affiliate with any of tolkien's works or any other literary works (and studies/articles) mentioned in this chapter, credits entirely to their rightful owners.
Enjoy!
Chapter 23
Chaos, as defined by Cambridge dictionary is a state of total confusion with no order. A word that can be used as both a noun and an adjective in the proper English grammar. With synonyms ranging from; pandemonium, disarray, uproar, mayhem and turmoil to name a few. A few words in the dictionary are also commonly used to describe the type of chaos to better understand or convey the commotion ensuing; words such as, absolute chaos, complete chaos, and economic chaos.
The thing about chaos, however, as published by the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, states that the smallest of changes in a system can result in very large differences in that system's behavior. The so-called 'Butterfly Effect' is one of the most popular image of chaos.
The 'Butterfly Effect' is an idea that a small change can make bigger changes happen. One small incident can have a big impact on the future. The term 'Butterfly Effect' comes from an analogy where a butterfly flaps its wings in a certain country and a tornado subsequently occurs in an adjacent country as a result of it. While this idea started out as largely being used in weather predictions, the concept of Butterfly Effect has since been used outside the context of weather science as a broad term for any situation where a small change is the supposed cause of larger consequences.
Or as such, only a Chaotician can expound.
Inasmuch as chaos had erupted all around Meduseld at the mention of the beacons being lit, it was an organized chaos nonetheless. An absolute—but, organized—chaos.
And surprisingly, excitement.
King Theoden had stood proud and confident as he ordered the Rohirrim to prepare and to ride to the aid of Gondor. This was it. The war had finally reached their very doorstep.
As if a well orchestrated dance, everyone in the hall had sprung into action. Men and women both scurrying about trying to prepare for the departure of the largest Rohan army ever assembled. This was the war that would transcend into tales for years to come. Individuals will be recognized and heroic deeds will be translated into legends.
The entire hall was running on adrenaline. Preparations are underway and the halls are abuzz with loud scuffle and talks. Everyone from the King to the lowly stable boys were immersed in chores to complete before they depart in a few hours. Theoden's strict instruction to leave at first light had everyone running til the late hours into the night scrambling to gather all the men, pack light and prepare for battle. Riders had been sent out late that afternoon to scour the neighboring provinces of men willing and ready to fight.
The Race of Men are about to take their last stand.
It was early next morning outside, a large crowd had started to gather in preparation for their departure at Dunharrow. "Horsemen…" Gimli grunted out, his eyes swaying between all the soldiers that have started to pile out of the city, "I wish I could muster a legion of dwarves fully armed and filthy." Pride coloring his tone as the thought of his kin fighting side by side the race of men.
"Your kinsman may have no need to ride to war. I fear war has already marched onto their own lands." Legolas' voice was contemplative as he mused about the oncoming face off. The outcome of this war will either change Middle Earth for the good or their defeat would spark a tidal wave of evil making no land or country safe from Sauron's greedy grasp and lust for power.
"I take it ya had a lovely afternoon yesterday?" Gimli carefully inquired, his eyes straying over to Alex who stood beside Aragorn, her stud—Midnight—silently following her. Legolas' lips quirked with amusement at the memory of his 'refined' young wife perched upon a tree limb with a fishing pole in her hand. "Tell me something, Gimli," Legolas asked, his eyes smiling his mind replaying all the fond moments that had occurred between him and Alex over the last few days. "What color are the roses on the arch at the gardens?"
Startled by the abrupt change of topic and the question itself, Gimli replied blankly, "Roses? What roses?"
"You need a wife," Legolas replied, chuckling as he turned to laugh at the dwarf who sat behind him on Arod. "You're worse off than I was. At least I knew there were roses." He broke off abruptly as the soldiers around them started to move towards the gates of Meduseld. The gathered families around them all frantically bidding their husbands, brothers, and sons farewell.
Gimli chuckled amused by the elf's light mood, "Ha! What makes ya think I don't have a lady back home, lad?"
Not far from where Legolas and Gimli sat waiting, was the rest of the fellowship whose face all remaining somber at the prospect of riding into battle simmering as a spark of fear flowed in their veins. The excitement of yesterday already a distant fleeting memory, Alex and Paul specifically, as the memories of the horrors of the battle at Helm's Deep still fresh in their minds. "You ride with us?" Aragorn's voice laced with surprise and confusion as he spotted Eowyn with her horse pulling alongside him and Alex.
"Just to the encampment. It is tradition for the women of court to farewell the men." Her eyes glancing at Aragorn and then straying to Alex before turning her attention back to her horse. Eowyn would not be swayed, not if Alex was riding with them to Dunharrow.
Aragorn seemed skeptic around Eowyn's reasoning. Moving his head to peek at Alex who only shook her head to silently tell him to let the shield maiden be. Refusing to act on instinct and ignore Alex's silent admonition, the ranger reached forward, flipping a blanket that hang over the saddle and spotted the handle of the sword peeking from over the other materials of clothing and leather bag expertly attached on the horse's side.
Aragorn's brow rose in silent question, before the blanket was wrenched from his grasp, not feeling even a little bit regretful nor guilty at getting caught snooping. "The men have found their Captain. They will follow you into battle even to death. You have given us hope." Were the only words Eowyn said, refusing to acknowledge the silent question of the ranger on whether had she any plans of riding into battle with them all the way to Minas Tirith.
"Now is the hour, Riders of Rohan!" Eomer's voice boomed loud and clear, startling everyone, and over the large crowd of soldiers and knights. The largest to have marched out of Rohan, in aid of the call of Minas Tirith, in what is hopefully the final battle to rid Middle Earth of the evil that has poisoned the lands and killed all living creatures and is now threatening to destroy more. "Oaths you have taken, now fulfill them all to lord and land!"
It was late in the day when Aragorn joined Theoden on a bluff overlooking the encampment bellow. The travel from Rohan to Dunharrow despite being long was swift and efficient. A usual occurrence when one travels with experienced riders and soldiers and not weighed down by casualties. However, what greeted them upon arrival was not what was Aragorn was expecting. His dark eyes moved over the encampment, his gaze a shadow of disappointment mixed with trepidation. Thousands of men and horses littered the land, all called forth to heed the cry for aid from Gondor. Smoke from many small camp-fires has filled the valley with a twilight haze.
"Six thousand spears . . . less than half of what I had hoped for," Theoden's voice disrupted the quiet late afternoon. His eyes moving over the land covered hoards of men ready to fight the growing threat from Mordor.
Aragorn's eyes turned to watch the King, "Six thousand will not be enough to break the lines of Mordor." The ranger's voice grim and troubled as he surveyed the tents and scattered soldiers scurrying about.
Without turning to stare at the ranger, Theoden answered his voice firm trying to hide the doubt that threatened to consume him. "More will come."
"Every hour lost hastens Gondor's defeat. We have till dawn. Then we must ride." Aragorn's voice was even steadier, cutting through the King's inner turmoil.
Theoden's eyes stared intently at Aragorn realizing what the ranger was saying, their eyes continued to stare at one another, a silent battle of wits and without preamble and much debate on Theoden's part, he nodded. He knew they had already wasted time.
The horses suddenly whined loudly in the distance making Theoden look up at the mountain which loomed behind them. Their camp was situated on the secluded part of the Dunharrow Plateau, on the side of the mountain where cold air blew making the horses uneasy with unknown terror, the soldiers assigned to look after them facing a challenge at trying to soothe them.
Legolas and Gimli moved through the camp, looking at a group of Rohan soldiers scattered about, all busy setting up camp, others trying to settle the horses, while others prepared supper, some soldiers sat quiet and hunched over contemplating the outcome of the impending war ahead.
The elf spotted Eomer who was unsaddling his horse. "The horses are restless, and the men are quiet?" Legolas' bewildered tone clear. His own instinct was going off inside his head with a silent warning yet the men around could not care less.
"They grow nervous in the shadow of the mountain." Eomer offered, casting a furtive glance at the end of the camp where a small gap between the mountain stood, ominous, and unwelcoming. The wind around them picking up speed, the temperature dropping.
Gimli's eyes traveled to a row of ancient standing stones that marked the entrance to a road leading away from the encampment and into the mountain. "That road there—where does that lead?"
"It is the road to the Dimholt. The door under the mountain." Legolas voice cut through the now silent camp, his eyes guarded but intense as he studied the road. No tree stood, no sign of life. Road of death—that is where it lead, he thought.
"None who venture there ever returned, " Eomer muttered under his breath, looking over his shoulder at the road and returning his gaze to the two companions, "That mountain is evil."
Foreboding crept up the elf-prince's spine, trepidation mingled with longing and fear and all things dark and troubling suddenly started to grow inside his heart. The ominous feeling was more than just the cold warning of the road leading to Dimholt, but it was triggered by it. A need—a longing—settled into his heart. His instinct had started to warn him, but the reason remained elusive to his grasp. Something is coming, his mind had warned him. He must prepare.
Despite the chaos that seemed to swim within him, his mind as if on muscle memory—conjured up images of Alex. Memories of her face and her smile. The twinkle of her eye when she was laughing, or the furrow of her brow when she was in concentration. The memories of the last few days lingering in his thoughts. Suddenly, a feeling altogether different, like warm air or first rays of the morning sun, the smell of flowers piled out his gate, had started to flood his senses.
Like slowly waking up from deep slumber, he suddenly felt peace. His thoughts of Alex brought him peace. Just like it always had. Just like that time in the cave, in a time that was so long ago. The only difference was that, he had no need to conjure up made up images or scenarios. This time he had her, here, with him. With that realization, the need in him arose once again. He needed to be near her. He needed to make sure she knew how he felt, and he needed to assure her that he would return for her, after all of this is over. He would find her and he would make the move he should've made. He remembered his promise about to talking to her and with all the commotion from last night and up until this morning, the thought slipped his mind. He would find her now and he would set everything all right.
The elf's ears picked up subtle movement just behind them and his head whipped around, expecting Alex, but found his friend standing, watching them until his eyes strayed over to what him and Gimli were staring at a moment ago.
Aragorn approached the trio and stood before the road as though transfixed, despite his efforts to ignore the exchange between Legolas, Gimli and Eomer, he heard it all. "Aragorn!" Gimli's voice alerted him to presence, sensing the dwarf standing a little ways behind him, "Let's find some food." Aragorn casted another look back at the ancient standing stones before following Gimli.
Legolas followed the dwarf and the ranger, but his mind was plagued with thoughts of his wife. In that moment, he felt the urge to find her. Envelop her in his arms, tell her what he really felt. Just as the ominous feeling brought about by the presence of the Dimholt pass, the elf prince knew that the same cloud also hang at the path of truth. Hurt as it may, Legolas knew with certainty that he needed to be honest about his knowledge of his wife's possible lineage.
Not far from the three companions, another pair also noticed the sudden dark vibe of the entire encampment. "Hey, are you alright?" Alex asked, sitting beside Paul just outside where their tents stood next to each other. Alex was thankful for having at least a few familiar faces around her. "Not quite, actually. I just…I couldn't shake this feeling…" Paul trailed off, looking at Alex and then sweeping his gaze all around him.
"I get what you're saying." Alex supplied, exhaling a large gust of air, rubbing her arms to get some warmth into them. The air had been exceptionally chilly tis night. "Maybe, it's this place? I saw Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli talking solemnly with Eomer a while back. Something about the mountains behind us…"
Paul's eyes drifted upward to the sky, his brow furrowing as he contemplated about what Alex said. "Could be…but it's not just that. I couldn't shake off this feeling you know? Since this morning even before we left Meduseld." His face contorted in frustration at what he could not voice out.
Alex stared into her friend, feeling something akin to fear crawl slowly up her spine. So she had not been alone. This whole time her defenses were rattled by something unknown. She had been on edge the entire day. "I get you…" Alex muttered, this time she could not stop herself from shivering as a strong gust of wind blew over the entire camp, tent flaps and flags bearing the seal of Rohan and some neighboring provinces dancing, the branches of the surrounding trees moving in sync with the direction of wind, all made even more creepier by the loud cries of unsettled horses. "Do you want me to get them? I think it would be best if we tell them what we feel…" ever since that night after her and Pippin's attack, the fellowship had thought it best to be forthcoming with whatever suspicion or observation any of them would happen to come across.
Paul waved Alex off, "Aragorn already has a lot on his plate. I don't want to bother him any more with senseless chatter. Poor guy is already up to his ears with planning and worries."
Alex nodded, understanding what Paul was saying. "Wanna eat?" She offered instead, to which Paul accepted immediately, "Anything but lembas." Alex laughed silently, offering Paul a bowl of stew of some sort and stood. "Eat. I'll go find Merry."
"Lex?" Paul called out, his face solemn yet calm, "Whatever happens, thank you."
Alex was dumbstruck with Paul's sudden seriousness. Her face unable to mask the fear that suddenly rose to the surface. It was like the eve before Helm's deep all over again. Her eyes began to water and her lip began to tremble. This war was bigger than Helm's deep. The future of the entire Middle Earth stood on a delicate balance. Whatever the outcome is tomorrow, it is surely going to bring with it a shift. Along with that dreadful realization, came overwhelming sadness. The many faces of men, women, man, elf, dwarf, hobbit alike, both young and old—not all will get to live to witness the end of this war.
And as Alex stood, her eyes wide with unshed tears, she stared scared to her bones. What if included in those casualties are people she held dear? People she had met and formed friendships with. Refusing to acknowledge the fear that threatened to swallow her whole, Alex straightened her spine, her eyes hardened as she stared back at her best friend, "No. You don't get to say goodbye. I refuse to hear any of it. You will be fine. You will not leave me, do you hear me?" Alex voice shook with rage, without waiting for her friend to answer, she turned and left.
That sky had already darkened when Alex finally spotted the tent where she found Eowyn knelt before Merry, adjusting his helmet strap. While Alex stood beside studying his armor in admiration and pride, trying to erase her mind with the memory of her conversation with Paul. Before she could stew on what Paul had said Eowyn's voice brought her out of her musings.
"There! A true Esquire of Rohan." Eowyn announced moving to stand back, side by side with Alex. Merry exhaled, excited and terrified in equal measure. In his excitement, he drew his sword, unable to calculate its weight and length, it swung directly in proximal height to both maidens' waist making them both jump and laugh nervously.
"Sorry. It isn't all that dangerous." Merry offered despondent before continuing, "It isn't even sharp."
"Well, that's no good. You won't kill many orcs with a blunt blade. Come on." Eowyn answered amused, and by proof, she grabbed on the tip of the blade indicating that it was indeed blunt, before moving out of the tent leading both Merry and Alex out.
Alex moved in a dazed state. Unable to decipher how Eowyn still had the energy to make light of things and how Merry seemed unfazed what he was about to be faced with tomorrow.
Spotting Eomer and Gamling sitting nearby, finishing a meal, Alex's smile faltered as she caught the glance Eomer threw the unsuspecting hobbit, while Eowyn ushered Merry off. "To the smithy—go!" Merry gave a smile and hurried off.
"You both should not encourage him." His voice grave as he continued to eat.
"And you should not doubt him." Eowyn answered sharply.
"I do not doubt his heart. Only the reach of his arm." At Eomer's unbothered comment, Alex spotted Gamling stifle a laugh and she felt her blood boil. In that brief moment, Alex felt anger flow in her veins. Anger mingled with frustration over what they all are currently facing surfaced and Alex could not hold herself. Now is not the time for discrimination. Now is not the time to doubt one's intention or ability. "And why should Merry be left behind? He has as much reason to go to war as you." Alex countered shocking the young knight of Rohan and his sister.
Eomer sat silently, choosing to ignore Alex's question, but to his surprise Eowyn spoke, but not in his comfort, "Why can he not fight for those he loves?" As if being slapped into reality yet again, Alex turned on her heel, her heart hammering in her chest, her eyes darting back and forth over the encampment that is slowly retiring for the night. Her mind going back to Paul and to his honest admission and acceptance of his possible fate, and then to Merry who bravely and blatantly will greet war in the face with child like naïveté and nonchalance, glowing positively with pride, both friends driven with purpose and pride for what they are about to do despite the risks.
Ignoring Eowyn's call, Alex disappeared over the cacophony of chatter, horse cries and battle preparation in search of her husband.
With every step Alex took, she found herself falling deeper and deeper into the abyss of her slowly losing mind. It had been months since she had arrived back in Middle Earth, and the intricacies of her arrival, nor the events that unfolded during her stay, with or without her meddling had been the proof of such overwhelming complexities of…life. In her panicked state, it is quite remarkable that she had managed to have broken down and processed each event and challenge in such a simplistic assumption in regards to the circumstances surrounding her. But even with her assumptions about her current situation and her attempts to rationalize it have been proven to her how grossly mistaken she was for accurately providing a description of her current reality.
Diving into her recollection of one of her stored knowledge on one of her classes on philosophy back at the university, delving into a 'Life beyond Chaos'; human beings have different ways of perceiving reality—physically through sense perceptions, emotionally through feelings and empathy, and mentally through rational analysis of facts, through formulation of thoughts, ideas, theories and imaginative experience.
Reaching her intended destination, her arm extended and almost ripping the flap over and entering the dimmed light of the tent situated away from the rest of the crowded tents. To her relief she spotted the one person she had been looking for. The one person who can calm her heart and set her entire being at peace. In her mind, despite all the racing chaotic thoughts, she realized with clarity that he was her one and only solace. Her only source of peace.
It seemed at that moment her body had a mind of their own. Like a compass pointing North, Alex felt her entire being righted. A feeling of encompassing peace settled and all her worries melting away at the mere sight of him. To her joy, she saw the same turmoil in him that had started to wane away. His eyes reflected relief and longing. The latter making her want to delve the extent of it. "Meleth,"
On cue and without a word, Alex molded her lips to his. Like a thirsty traveler on a desert, deprived of water for days. She kissed him with all the love and longing she had. Whatever reality had her mind conjured up, this was the reality she had longed for. The reality her mind, heart and soul would ever need. The only reality she would happily reside in.
Her lips traced his, warm and inviting and as she gasped for a much needed breath, his tongue plunged into her mouth. His arms caging her in, holding her close. The feeling of his rigid body sending a delicious shiver to run down her spine. Angling her head to give him better access, and pulling her body even closer, they both moaned at the same time.
There was nothing slow about what they needed. Everything was frantic but not rushed. Every caress, kiss and lick savoring every delicious curve and surface. Nothing was needed to be said, their actions spoke both of their need.
Gently, Alex felt the soft cover of quilt and mattress behind her and she realized she was being laid down. Their lips seeking each other again, hands roamed and with practiced precision feeling the clasps and ties of each other's clothes. Both their skins glowing in the dim light of the single candle inside the tent.
His lips and tongue followed wherever his hand went and it sent her reeling. The onslaught of sensations eliciting sighs and moans from her that had him feeling confident and elated. Slowly covering her body with his, and covering her lips with his own again, Legolas realized he would never tire of kissing her. Her taste sweet and addicting like his own brand of honey that only he had the pleasure of tasting with unlimited access made his fëa sing, with the thought she had given it freely to him.
They were a tangled mess of arms and legs, neither willing to relent but both surrendering together to the euphoria they inflicted on each other. Sweat clung to her skin, but her heart and soul felt light. A feeling she would happily chase forever, a state that only Legolas could give.
Her arms were still wrapped around his shoulders, her legs still holding him place. In that moment Alex felt like her heart was going to hammer out of her chest, feeling like it would burst out of her. Looking up into his blue eyes staring deeply into her own, a ghost of a smile on his pink lips made her brave.
Untangling her arms from around his neck, she placed both her palms around his face, her eyes intense yet honest. Showing all the emotion she felt refusing to hide anything, "I love you." Alex felt him stiffen above her. With their close proximity, she saw his eyes widen a fraction, his eyes never leaving hers. Fearing that he might misunderstand her declaration with post coital bliss, she repeated again, "I love you, Legolas." Swallowing the lump that had started to form in her throat at his continued silence, she added, " and I don't want you leave tomorrow without knowing how I truly feel about you."
Feeling the signs of embarrassment from his continued extended silence slowly creep up her arms, Alex slowly untangled her legs from around his waist. Humiliation coloring her neck and cheeks in a tinge of dark pink, biting her lip to stop it from trembling at the realization that with his silence, he made one thing clear: He never felt the same.
"Don't," his velvet voice shocking her. This time it was her turn to stiffen. His eyes moving to her lip trapped between her teeth and felt his thumb pull it free. "I told not to do that." His blue eyes got impossibly darker, before his gaze pinned her, the intensity shocking her.
Alex squealed feeling slight vertigo as her weight and sight shifted before it righted and she found herself upright, looking down on him as she sat in his lap. One of his arm snaking around her waist holding her close, as his other hand snaked through the hair on the back of her head. "Say it again…" his voice small, but the request loud and clear.
"I love you." Alex felt him sigh and a slow smile appeared on his face. Feeling brave that he wasn't pushing her away or discouraging her feeling, she leaned in, her forehead over his and closed her eyes, "I love you."
His arm tightened around her, "You're my world." Alex felt his breath tickle her lips, but his voice shocking her, her smile frozen in place. "Oh meleth, 'love' is too simple a word to describe what I feel for you." Kissing her lips once, "You are my world, my heart, my fëa. You are my everything."
"Really?" A teary smile graced her face making him laugh silently at her innocence.
"Really." His smile making him look young and carefree, his dimple appearing on his cheeks. "I really love you. Very much." His added before pulling her down for a kiss.
It was another hour before they both fell on the bed, satiated and happy. Unable to keep themselves from smiling or giggling as their admissions still floated around them. Now that they could say it freely, both unable to keep themselves from saying it.
Alex continued to stare on the ceiling of the makeshift tent, the shadows dancing from the barely surviving candle in the corner of the room that is about to be drowned in wax. Feeling safe in her husband's arms. "Stay," his voice wafted over her ears, feeling his breath tickle her earlobe. "Stay with me, meleth."
Alex's smile slowly fell from her face and her brow furrowed in confusion. The feeling of familiarity overshadowing her bliss. Deja vu, her mind whispered as if it was playing on tricks on her.
Ignoring the cloud that formed over her mind, she turned to face him, "Yes. Yes, I'll stay." Her voice barely above a whisper but she knew he heard her clear as if she had shouted them. His eyes twinkled with unconcealed happiness, pulling her even more closer to him and peppering her neck and shoulder with kisses making her giggle.
The happiness was short lived however as Legolas remembered he had yet to breach the subject about her family with her. "Alex," he started but her mind was still caught up with her decision.
"I'll stay here in Dunharrow. I'll wait for your word when the war is over and I'll follow you to Minas Tirith, okay?" Alex asked, when she received no answer she turned and saw him suddenly serious and troubled, his eyes studying the ceiling intently. "I know you would want me to come with you tomorrow but I don't think I can face another repeat of the events in Helm's Deep…" Alex trailed off noticing that his mind was somewhere else. "Is something wrong?"
Startled by her question and the underlying fear in her voice, Legolas moved to look at her. "Alex, there is something you need to know. Something that I have been meaning to tell you since…"
"O..okay…?" Alex followed, feeling a warning start to blare in her head. Suddenly feeling underdressed and unprepared for the conversation that was surely going to be heavy, Alex pulled the blanket closer to her form.
Seeing the fear and unease cross her features made him silently scold himself and recalled how she would easily believe her insecurities and convince herself that he thought of her oppositely of what he had just said. "What I'm about to tell you does not change the way I feel about you." Pulling her close and wrapping his arms around her, "You have brought me peace and purpose. I love you." Pressing a kiss to her forehead and enunciating every word to make sure she understood. He felt relief flood his veins and bravery for what he was about to say. Pulling back to look at her, he reminder her again, "Le ni meleth."
As if on cue, her bones froze. An icy chill wrapped her entire frame, goosebumps erupting across her skin. She had heard of that line before. While Legolas' voice faded in the background of whatever it was he was in, another voice—much louder—shook her entire frame. Her eyes widened as the shadows around her started to move and it painted a dark picture of what she was sure she had no recollection of, but was now glaringly clear.
The shadows morphed into silhouettes, images flashing one after another. Like a long, lost memory, the images bombarded her. Her dream vividly clear, almost feeling the rain over her face and the mud sticking to her feet and legs. The sounds were deafening, clashes of sword and yells of command and feeling their hands as they pushed and pull her.
'Aemilia…'
'You escaped once…'
'The time of the elves are over…'
'Of course my child, you are her grand daughter. That makes you my great granddaughter…'
'Yrcs! We'll hold them off. You get her out of here!'
'Go!'
Sitting upright on the bed and gasping for breath as the images faded, horror filled her as the details of her dream all came back to her. "Alex?" Worry was etched onto his face, as he watched different emotions flicker over his wife's face. "Talk to me, meleth." Legolas pleaded, noticing his wife's complexion turn as white as the sheets, her eyes wide in fear.
"I remember…" Alex started, slowly coming down from her daze, "My dream. I remember my dream."
Legolas was stunned into silence, his eyes moving over her frame as she stood and started gathering her clothes, all the while relaying the events of her dream in great detail to him. "We have to find Aragorn!"
—0—0—0—
"King Theoden awaits you, my lord." A Rohan guard spoke and left, leaving a bedraggled Aragorn in confusion over the sudden request, while his mind replayed the horrifying images of Arwen pale and fading, still holding onto the hope that he would return to her. Remembering the request of Theoden, he abruptly stood foregoing his usual blades and hurrying over to the King's tent.
"I take my leave." Theoden did not bother to greet Aragorn, bowing slightly to the hooded figure sat in the corner of the lavish tent, shooting Aragorn a strange look as he left the two alone.
The figure stood and pulled back the hood to reveal, Elrond.
"My Lord, Elrond." Aragorn greeted, his mind racing with a million thoughts at the Lord of Imladris' sudden appearance.
"I come on behalf of both whom I love." Elrond's wordplay was not lost on the ranger. He knew who those 'both' were, and he felt dread fill him as he thought of Arwen and his nightmare—and of Alex who was somewhere in the camp. Does Elrond know she's here? What would he do if he found out?
Aragorn's gaze returned to the elf before him whose face mirrored the pain bearing his declaration. "Arwen is dying." Elrond stated, "And I heard my granddaughter is here." His tone turned serious and displeased.
Aragorn turned ashen-faced at receiving the news of Arwen and unable to deny the latter. "She remains?"
"She will not long survive the evil that now spreads from Mordor." Elrond's eyes falling to the Evenstar which hanged around Aragorn's neck. "The light of the Evenstar is failing. As Sauron's power grows, her strength wanes." Elrond's face turned grave, "Arwen's life is now tied to the fate of the Ring. The Shadow is upon us, Aragorn, the end has come."
"It will not be our end, but his." His voice reflecting the anger coursing through his veins at the moment.
"You ride to war, but not to victory. Sauron's armies march on Minas Tirith—this you know—but in secret he sends another force which will attack from the river." At Elrond's statement, Aragorn's face turned grim and astonished as he continued to listen to Elrond. "A fleet of Corsair ships sails from the South. They will be in the city in two days. You're out-numbered, Aragorn. You need more men—"
"There are none."
Elrond hesitated a beat and then continued quietly unperturbed by Aragorn's answer. "There are those who dwell in the mountain." As if on cue a sudden gust of wind rushes through the tent, lifting hangings, scattering maps, knocking over goblets.
Aragorn's eyes widened in fear as he continued to stare at Elrond, an image flashing in his mind's eye of a ghostly figure he thought he saw—but excused as a figment of his imagination—on the Dimholt road. "Murderers, traitors—you would call upon them to fight? They believe in nothing. They answer to no one—"
"They will answer to the King of Gondor!" Aragorn's eyes falling to a plain black scabbard, which Elrond drew from beneath his robes. Elrond's long white fingers drawing the hilt of a sword from the scabbard to reveal an elven sword glinting in the firelight. "Anduril, flame of the West," Elrond continued, "forged from the shards of Narsil."
Aragorn felt his hand close around the hilt of the magnificent sword, staring at it in wonder. "Sauron will not have forgotten the sword of Elendil, " drawing the long blade from its sheath, "the blade that was broken shall return to Minas Tirith."
"The man who can wield the power of this sword can summon to him an army more deadly than any that walks this earth." Elrond stared hard at Aragorn, "Put aside the Ranger—become who you were born to be." Elrond's eyes remained its intensity as he instructed Aragorn on what to do, "Take the Dimholt Road."
A heavy silence hangs in the room. "Onen i-estel Edain." Elrond's quietly voiced, watching Aragorn.
"U-chebin estel anim." Aragorn answered, sheathing the sword and returning Elrond's gaze.
A long pause followed Aragorn's statement before the elf-lord continued, "Where is she?" Elrond's voice turned pained as he pinned the ranger with his stare.
Aragorn tried to keep his face impassive moving away from Elrond's gaze, trying to scramble any plausible explanation in his mind on how to go about and approach the predicament he found himself in. After some silence, he realized he had to go about this conversation slowly. "How did you know?"
The lack of denial on the ranger confirmed Elrond's suspicions about his granddaughter. "The elves who battled at Helm's Deep would not stop talking about her—The Mirkwood Princess. They were all singing praises about her bravery. One elf would not stop—"
"The one she brought back to life." It was not a question but a statement and Aragorn saw Elrond nod slowly.
"Lord Elrond, I'm afraid…things have become much more complicated since you last saw her,"
"There is no complication. She is my granddaughter and I will see to her safety. You of all people should have known not to put her in harm's way."
"We have kept her safe. We have kept her identity a secret and kept it safe. She's never been safer than here with—"
"You should have put on her on a damn horse and had her ride back to Rivendell the first chance she got. Not have her galloping with you lot across middle earth and fighting for her life!"
"How was I to know Alex was related to you?"
"Aragorn! I remember—Lord Elrond?" Her eyes widened at the sight of an elf she never thought she'd see again.
"Anel nin…" Elrond's gaze moving about her form until his eyes lingered studying her face. She had grown so much since the last time he saw her. Gone was the child he met but it her place was a grown woman of beauty and allure. Wisdom shown in her bright green eyes. Inasmuch as his children bore the uncanny traits that belonged to his side of the family, here was his great granddaughter, that although still held the physical traits, her demeanor held a striking resemblance to his late wife. There was a kind energy about her but an underlying fierceness that shown in her emerald eyes, much like a certain Lord of Princes he happened to call his son by law. Her face mirrored adoration and pleasant surprise at she returned his stare.
"What are you doing here?"
Alex's question snapped him out of his haze. Valar! Even her voice reminded him so much of Aemila. "My child, we have to go."
"Go? Go where? I'm not leaving. What are you talking about?"
"Alex, your grandmother Aemilia," Elrond's face contorted in obvious pain at the mention of his long lost daughter they had all thought was already dead. His eyes turning misty as he stared at Alex who now took an eerie reincarnation of Aemilia, "…is my daughter, " Elrond started only to be cut off by Aragorn.
"Lord Elrond, I beg of you not here." Legolas begged exasperated when Aragorn's pleas were left ignored, trying to soothe the Lord of Imladris only to be pinned by the intense glare coming from the elf-lord. Elrond's eyes swept across the Greenwood Prince and his gaze hardening at the clasped of hands of both Legolas and Alex.
"We will discuss the matter of your marriage at a later date, but for the meantime, my child, you have to come with me," extending his hand and trying to hold Alex's free hand only for her to pull away.
Alex flinched at the sudden urgency of Elrond's tone, "I'm not going anywhere with you. I don't know you. I only met you once."
"I have no time to explain everything to you right now, but we can talk along the way, It is not safe for you here. Your grandmother would have wanted you safe, in Rivendell with us—your family—where you belong."
"Elrond, you are scaring her." Aragorn hissed, standing between Elrond and Legolas who had Alex behind him.
Ignoring Aragorn's plea again, Elrond continued to look at Alex, his eyes kind and understanding as he continued, "Do not dare to stand between me and my family. Aemilia is my daughter. We suspected she was expecting after the news of her disappearance hundreds of years ago. We grieved both her and her unborn child then—but you happened, anel nin. A miracle. We now know Aemilia survived and you are a proof of that." Turning his attention back towards Alex who continued to stare at him with wide eyes full of disbelief, "Arwen is your grandmother's sister. You have a family in Rivendell and we cannot wait for you to come home."
Chaos erupted inside the tent as Aragorn argued over Elrond. Alex stood frozen, in shock over what she just heard. A myriad of emotions swam inside her at the shocking revelation. Confusion rose above all others. Feeling like it all made sense but somehow it did not. Her mind raced with all the sudden onslaught of information. Was it coincidence that the people in her dream knew her grandmother's name? Was it just a dream or a long, lost memory of an incident that happened years ago? The argument around her stretched on before she found her voice again, "That's absurd. If it was true, I would be—"
"Half elf. You have elven blood my dear. And I am confident one of your parents is—your father. You have a choice between living a mortal or immortal life."
Her eyes bore into Elrond's feeling brave despite feeling confused. Like the pieces of a puzzle all scattered around. All she has to do was place them all together. "A cave?" Her voice small as she repeated her dream, "There were two elves, a male and a female. And a wizard. That was…that was the dream," turning her fear-filled eyes to Aragorn who watched her intently.
"What did they look like?" Elrond urged on, ignoring the pleading gazes of Aragorn and Legolas.
"He was tall, with brown hair…" Alex continued her mind flashing an image of the elf in her dream, "he..he had an arrow lodged on his…" her arm moved pointing to her torso, her eyes watching as recognition crossed Elrond's face. "Bredwon. He was your grandmother's guard, personally appointed by your grandfather." He muttered his eyes sad and forlorn, recalling the said elf's state when they found him days later inside the cave.
"A…and she had pale golden hair. I couldn't get her eyes out my head, she reminded me of…" Alex continued, a lump forming in her throat at the elf maiden's loving gaze that held hers. "She was wearing a golden armor that was sliced through…She had a gash…" gesturing to her abdomen. Tears flowed freely from Alex's eyes, her lips and chin trembled at the horrifying images the memory painted, of the possibilities of it becoming more than just a dream but an actual memory, not of hers, but of her Nana's etched in this world's history.
Pain crossed Elrond's face, as Aragorn stared shellshocked over what Alex was saying. "Celebrian. Your great grandmother."
"That is enough! She was not suppose to find out this way." Aragorn said loudly, his eyes blazing as he gazed at Elrond, at the same time, Legolas tried to pull Alex out of the tent, "Come on, love."
"I do strongly believe this is none of your concern. Both of you."
"Lord Elrond, I beg of you," Legolas interjected, panic and anger both battling inside of him while trying to appease the Lord of Imladris only to be the focus of the elf's growing anger.
"And how long have you known?" Elrond spat blazing eyes turned to the Prince of Mirkwood.
"We are on the brink of war, this is not exactly the kind of conversation we should be having at the moment—" Aragorn tried to intervene but was immediately cut off.
"If you claimed to be her rightful husband why haven't you told her?" Elrond's voice dripped with venom as his angry gaze pinned Legolas on the spot.
"Why haven't you told me yourself? I was in Rivendell for weeks before the council and I had to find out through Aragorn and Mirthrandir—after all these years. While you had fifty years to reach out and yet you haven't." Legolas' icy tone surprising everyone, even Elrond stood frozen, guilt, regret and embarrassment coloring the elf-lord's features before it was masked with the stony glare that challenged the elf prince's own.
"And where was your father in all of this? Thranduil knew weeks after your supposed binding. We came to Greenwood to confront both of you but instead you were deployed and her gone." Elrond countered his eyes fiery and intense as he glared as the Prince.
"Wait," turning her confused emerald eyes to Legolas, "You knew? You were in on this too?" A humorless laugh escaped her before she spoke, "Since when?" Her face falling, pulling her hand free from his grasp and stepping back to look at him. Her gaze full of trust that was slowly crumbling in front of him was suffering to watch, and Legolas bowed his head. She watched him suddenly get uncomfortable, his hands fisted on his sides, blue eyes reflecting the pain and truth of what she just heard.
The room was engulfed in silence, the tension thick. Legolas' pained gaze returned to stare at his wife who now seemed miles away from him, "Alex," his took a tentative step forward and was rewarded with a step back from her, making Legolas sigh heavily from, the message loud and clear. "I—"
"Since when?!" Alex roared, heaving huge gulps of air as her eyes began to water unable to hide the betrayal and anger.
"The morning after the feast. Before you were attacked."
"Attacked? I thought you said you kept her safe." Elrond's voice broke through his eyes blazing as he stared at Aragorn.
"Not now—" Aragorn tried to intervene only to be frozen on the spot by Elrond's glare, " 'Not now'? You forget your place. She is my granddaughter—"
"Stop it! All of you just shut the fuck up." Tears fell from her eyes, her gaze moving between the the three men in the room, her glare hardening as she pinned Legolas. "Why didn't you say anything—Wait, why am I even asking. You would've liked that, wouldn't you? If I was a peredhil."
"Alex, please—"
"You were always a sneaky bastard." Sarcastic yet disappointed smile spreading along her trembling lips, her eyes glaring daggers at him. Her breathing coming out in gasps as she tried to hold in the sob that threatened to erupt from her. Anger ran like fire in her veins as she continued to glare.
"Meleth, listen…I wanted to tell you—I was going to tell you.."
"But what? And when? It was just so tempting wasn't it? It was just like what you've always wanted, am I right?" Alex's words were like daggers to his heart. Every word dripping with acid and anger. "To have a fool for a wife. And I was stupid enough to fall for…" you, was what she was going to say and she knew he knew it too as she spotted regret swim in his azure eyes, biting her trembling lip as she watch pain cross his face, satisfaction flowed in her heart a the thought that she had at least hurt him too. "You son of a bitch." She whispered shaking her head at him in disbelief and disappointment, her face crumbling in pain watching the other occupants in the room, "You're not my grandfather. Let me make this fucking clear: I have no family here. Not with any of you." Her eyes moving to all three of them, making them shuffle, sharply turning in her heel and bolting out of the tent.
Legolas moved to follow her but he was held back by Aragorn, "Let her go."
"Let her go? If it weren't for the world meddling I would have told her as soon as I found out and none of this would have happened!"
"You will watch your tone with me, prince. I am still her grandfather."
"I never should have listened to any of you." Legolas seethed, pacing the length of the carpeted dirt floor.
"Mellon, I understand you are upset but we do not have the complete information. She should have never found out about it this way." Aragorn's eyes glancing at Elrond,"It would have been best if we allowed Aemilia to tell her the truth." Aragorn voiced out, knowing the weight of knowing something about your lineage, is something the ranger was all too familiar with. His own identity was deliberately kept hidden from him and on the day he found out he felt constricted and lost. Unable to equate the person he thought he knew about himself to the person the people were telling him about and the pressures from the expectations that arose from that new identity. Aragorn understood the conflicting feelings Alex was going to feel. She is going to be in denial, she is going to be angry and she is going to feel like she doesn't know herself. Aragorn was familiar of it all having spent most of his life running away from the glaring truth of his own lineage. Feeling that it was much easier to deny his rightful place in the world. Aragorn understood it all. Aemilia should have been the one to have broken the news to Alex, just as his mother should have been the one to tell him of his true identity—being Isildur's heir has brought him nothing but impossible expectations from the elves, and scornful discrimination from his own race—but fate had other plans and when his mother died during childbirth, it was left up to Elrond to fill it. His eyes were hard as it trained on Elrond who felt remorse over the entire confrontation. Embarrassment and guilt shadowing his features as he realized the gravity of what he had done, in lieu of his good intention. "What have I done, Estel?" Elrond spoke, regret and remorse wrapping him like blanket.
"You were doing what you thought was best for her." Legolas spoke after much silence surprising the Lord of Imladris, his voice blank, but his eyes betrayed the sadness that swam in them. "We all thought we were, in our own way."
"What's done is done. There is no use in going back. Alex is strong. We'll just have to wait for her. She'll understand what we were all trying to do." Aragorn's voice lowered to a whisper trying to mask the trepidation in his tone, "She'll understand…" his mind unable to decide if he was trying to convince them or himself.
No sooner had they all fallen silent when a loud clang outside caught their attention. All three of them running outside to see what the commotion was all about. Ripping the flap open to reveal the camp outside, both Aragorn and Legolas raced to find Paul swaying like he was drunk. Gimli and Merry trying with all their might to hold him down.
"Aragorn, hold him still." Gimli ordered, all the while he was being dragged as Paul struggled in his hold.
Paul caught the bewildered stare of Aragorn and Legolas but it was the latter that garnered all his attention. "What did you do? She was a mess." Stalking over to the elf and roaring in his face. Frustration and defeat maring Paul's boyish features. "I rooted for you. I have never seen her this broken."
Grabbing onto his shoulders, Legolas accepted Paul's glare and insults. Feeling that if his own persona was jabbed enough he could at least justify all the hurt Alex might be going through at the moment. "Paul, where is she? I need to find her."
"What the fuck did you say to her?" Paul pulled his arm back planning to land a punch on the elf's jaw but he missed falling to the ground as his weight betrayed him with Gimli and Merry each holding onto his leg. Aragorn fell beside Paul holding him firmly as he tried to sit up. "Calm down. Breathe." Aragorn instructed which seemed to calm Paul down. "Alex knows. About everything."
Paul nodded pain etched in his face, "I guessed. Aragorn, I don't how to help her. I don't know what to do…" His movements were sluggish, his words sounding slightly slurred. Just as they as they had all relaxed, Paul felt a slight tingling feeling starting from the tips of his fingers. "What in the…" raising his arm, his eyes almost bulged out their sockets at the sight of his arm, from his elbow down his hands, gone!
Panic rose on his chest as he scrambled to his feet but his legs gave out too. His panicked gaze turned to Legolas who was already jumping over the campfire, his legs taking him far away from the huddled group but he heard Paul loud and clear. "Find her! Find Alex!"
The Butterfly Effect is often misunderstood as a phenomenon wherein small change in starting conditions can lead vastly to different outcomes. Therefore, this theory is more or less an idea that small things can have non-linear impacts on complex systems. The concept is imagined with a butterfly flapping its wings and causing a typhoon. Of course, a single act like the butterfly flapping its wings obviously cannot cause typhoons, however, serve as catalyst that act on starting conditions.
Alex continued her angry walk towards the woods. She had spotted Paul when she rushed outside of the suffocating tent, her face surely gave her away but she avoided another confrontation.
Half elf?
The question floated inside her head non-stop. The possibilities of those answers and the consequences of what each answer entailed frightened her. Not only was her mind a jumbled mess but along with those thoughts came the emotions—anger, confusion and betrayal all battled inside her. Torn between entertaining the idea that her grandmother was an elf was absurd!
More questions seemed to have stemmed from just that one question alone. When, how, was it even possible—to name a few of the countless questions leading to more holes and endless inquires.
With her thoughts about her grandmother, came the image her father and more questions. His knowledge of this possibility and any connection that lead to his death. As her memory took her to thoughts about her father, her mind brought up the image of her mother. Hurt and pain lashed at her heart. How much did her mother know? Was her admission to Springdale in anyway connected to this? Did Elizabeth knew all along that she was different and tried make Alex fit in?
Her mind were a million miles away, and as her feet carried her out of the sight of the encampment, Alex just then realized she was a little far off and into a deeper part of the wooded area that surrounded the encampment. Her face damp, her eyes felt swollen and tired but her mind refused to shut off.
There was only one person who could definitively answer all the questions about the bomb Elrond had just dropped on her. Another wave of anger and frustration swirled inside her as she remembers that as much as she craved to have the answers she needed, she had no way of getting home.
The thought of home made Alex halt in her pacing and her eyes widen in pain and fresh tears threatened to spill. She promised to stay. Images of the last week and earlier in the night flooded her mind and she felt sick to her stomach at the remorse she felt as she recalled the betrayal and anger of what Legolas did. He knew. All those times they were together after the feast, he knew and he had every opportunity to tell her and yet he didn't. Alex felt like she was back at Greenwood and she was fifteen again. Hearing Alvena's words and the lack of denial from Thranduil made her feel like a laughing stock, a freak, an outcast all over again.
The logical part of her was giving her reasons to justify her current feelings for the elf prince and yet her heart had managed to counter every single one of them. The pain in his face when she confronted him showed someone who carried the burden of that secret too. The pain his eyes made the pain in Alex's heart clench even more. She easily convinced herself he was capable of all her pain and yet he had not once deliberately caused any of it. An image of them curled up against each other in the tent flashed in her mind and the declarations of love assaulted her. Alex had to lean on a nearby tree to steady herself. Alex froze as realization hit her like a train. Just before she was reminded of her nightmare, he had confessed to wanting to tell her something and she had completely zoned him out.
Flashes of their time together continued their assault on her mind, her heart clenching inside her chest at the thought of letting it all go. She had already admitted she loved him. Had already confessed it out loud and he had done the same. In a brief respite from her conflicting emotions, her mind and heart agreed on that single moment, seeing the pain on his face and the euphoria and hearing him confess how he felt about her made one confusion clear: Legolas was not entirely at fault for the secrecy of her lineage even though the omission did hurt.
Alex's heart screamed at her. Why was it so easy for her to put all the blame on Legolas? Why was so easy for her to believe he was capable of all the despicable things she accused him off? Shouldn't her grandmother be held responsible for the pain too? If Legolas had an entire week to tell her, her Nana had thirty years!
With a start Alex froze in her place. She had been in this same situation before—revelations. Just like that time in the gardens back in Greenwood fifteen years ago, Alex felt the hurt and humiliation. But with that trip down memory lane came a realization: She wasn't the same girl anymore. A lot has happened between then and now and she had grown so much. With painful resignation, Alex came to a decision that she would not run this time. She's not the naive fifteen year old girl anymore, in fact far from it and she decided then that she would face this conspiracy of her lineage head on.
The confusion and hurt still lingered, the resolution still far from her grasp but she also knew that running away from it is not going to solve it. With a firm resolve, she turned on her heel, intent on returning to camp. She would start with her husband and then with Aragorn. And she would get to the bottom of it. A series of linear plans formulated in her head on how to go about her current peculiar predicament. She'd take one step at a time in figuring out the truth about everything. She knew now it wasn't a coincidence that she could cross worlds, it wasn't by chance that she met Aragorn or had fallen in love with Legolas. She would be logical about everything and not let her emotions take over. She was done being a victim of her circumstance. With a firm resolve and determination now mingled with anger, she would grab fate by the reigns and she would demand answers.
She had mused before, remembering a brief moment of her childhood about a caterpillar just beyond the cusp of its evolution into a butterfly, remembered how she had wondered if just like that yellow butterfly that sat on her Nana's windowsill back at Fontanellato, was she in somewhat of a similar position. A caterpillar yet on the stages of developing her own wings and showcasing her own colors. In that brief moment, she felt exactly that. Her decision to face her problems head on and to live on the now than let her life pass her by and wait until it calmed, opting to sweep her problems under the rug. In that moment of self realization Alex felt overwhelming adrenaline and empowered. She would face everything, she's done running and she was not going to hide.
Alex's steps continued to bring her closer to the camp, the lights from the slowly dimming fires signaling her slowly diminishing distance. Just like that butterfly she had compared herself too, her decision to face facts would create a tidal wave of changes to happen. In her haste to return to camp while still deep in her own thoughts, Alex missed the protruding tree root sticking out of the dirt. The dimming camp fire she had spotted provided little to no illumination from where she was and her foot caught in it. Caught by surprise, it was entirely too late when she felt herself fall, her hand braced in front of her to break her fall.
As stated in a cult classic work 'Deep Simplicity' by John Gribbins; some systems are very sensitive to their starting conditions, so that a tiny difference in the initial push you give them causes a big difference in where they end up.
On the other end of that spectrum however, is the common misconstrued idea that the Butterfly Effect can be used or served to get leverage. The thought of expecting a desired outcome—that has been manipulated from a small push to a bigger impact—has outweighed the initial theory that in reality, it is that small change that may either have a big impact or no impact at all or that the impact occurring may not be the one desired. The truth is, it is virtually impossible to know which will turn out to be the case.
The tree root could have been an unforeseen menace but a menace that was easy to overcome, tripping over a tree root is not something that would accurately depict a Butterfly Effect, but the rock that Alex banged her head in making her lose consciousness would be a definite catalyst in a wave of change that was sure to ensue.
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AN: Ah! i'm back! 4 months is a long wait. i am so sorry. My mental health just went to shit. In all honesty, this chapter was difficult to finish. I was having a hard time internalizing how these characters might feel in their given situation while my own mental state was in pieces was brutal. I have been locked in my house for months, even going out and mingling with people does not give me the same satisfaction any more. I tried mountain biking again, but I am only left physically drained and even more emotionally and mentally incapacitated. I don't know if any of you feel this way, and if you do just know that you are not alone.
I am feeling a little better though so I guess that's good. =) I apologize ahead of time if this chapter is not at par with the usual writing most of you are accustomed to. I tried my best and I hope you guys will be a little kind with the reviews. Even with the months that I was away, I was keeping track of the views and reads and I enjoy reading your reactions and notifs about new favs/follows always puts a smile on my face. I uploaded this now, because felt guilty for making you guys wait.
This story is up on Wattpad, btw. Feel free to react there too.
and speaking of Wattpad, I have started a new story there as well. It's a personal of mine, the characters and plot are entirely my own, so I hope you'll support me there too. I think I have 2 or 3 chapters uploaded, but I have upto 4 written already. just a heads up tho. that story is dark. like really dark so for those who are squeamish i would advise that you avoid it. my username on WP is: happypill1111. the story is, 'The Devil in the flesh'.
i'll shut up now. See you next chapter! =)
translations:
U-chebin estel anim - I keep none for myself
meleth - love
peredhil - half elf