*Smiles* Hi, everyone! Sorry to take so long! Unfortunately, it's going to be the same excuse: an endless rotating cycle of writing stories, homework, break/writer's block, repeat. But meanwhile, I am so delighted and thankful to all the new reviewers, favs, and follows! Thank you!
Pyro: Real life is a real pull, but it hasn't stopped me yet. You don't have to worry. Yeah, Elanor is going to get quite an eye-full of Gollum.
Forcewalker: Thanks! I'll try my best!
NightlyRowenTree: I'm so glad you are enjoying it. Thanks for the reviews!
Vader10: We'll see. I'm pretty sure Elanor will meet her pairing in the future, but I'm not worried about that right now. She's only thirteen, but she'll be around eighteen or so when LOTR takes place. I am planning more OCs, but its not exactly romantic. Yet;) The only romance in this story are Talion and Ioreth, and maybe slight Lithariel and Talion.
Halie: Thank you!
Stallord: Right back at you, because there's no way Gollum's song will be overseen:)
Guests: Thanks for reading and making suggestions! Trust me, I plan for Elanor to show her feisty side.
"What sort of rodent hides in the shadows, I wonder?" said my father Talion, as we entered the cliffside of the rock slopes.
The elf wraith was walking beside us. "Something of great power had left its mark on him. I sense it."
"But what has he to do with the Black Hand?" I asked. "Why is this...creature important?" I looked in between my father and the elf wraith. They were keeping something from me, and I felt it unfair that I should be left in the dark.
Father also looked at the elf wraith, guessing. "You feel that it might have answers."
The wraith nodded. "For both of us."
(Talion)
"We should find him, then," said Talion. He felt Elanor step closer to him, looking unsure and confused, but mostly annoyed because nobody would give her a real answer.
"It shouldn't be too difficult," said the wraith, lifting a finger ahead. Talion and Elanor followed the elf wraith's gesture before he dissipated. Talion's eyes narrowed, his sharpened vision catching the light of the strange tracks hidden among the weeds, leading into the mountains.
Elanor knelt to the ground to take a closer look, frowning in concentration. Her young, sharp eyes in many ways were not as skilled as her father's, but she had enough practice in her life to know where to recognize a hidden footprint.
"Tracks," she said, looking up at Talion for a confirmation. "They're the creature's, aren't they?"
"Aye." Talion nodded, feeling a moment of pride for his child's skill, however small it was. He felt the cold essence of the elf's conscience stir within as he followed the blue light leading the trail. He sheathed his sword, while Elanor stood up, looking small and wary. "These tracks are not quite human, not quite beast."
Even more reason to investigate, the wraith's voice pointed out in his mind, the slight eagerness impossible to miss.
"Are you sure it's not an orc, Father?" asked Elanor, frowning. Her small hand still clutched the knife sheathed in her belt.
Talion shook his head. "I do not know, Elanor, but I highly doubt it means us any good will." He glanced at her, who was ever ready to follow wherever he may lead. "Follow me and try to keep up."
"I know, Father."
Soon they were running down the hills, where the shadows of the mountains began to grow stronger around them. Talion always knew Elanor to be a fast runner for her age, but he nonetheless shortened his much longer strides for her smaller ones. He could imagine that she was thankful for all the times she and Dirhael raced together, whether it had been on the ground, or the high stone ledges of the Black Gate, giving both their mother and father a near heart attack every time.
"What is this place?" Elanor called, trailing alongside him.
The runt's tracks lead us right into that Caragor cave...Talion then realized with a start as they were heading closer to the widening cave entrance, deep and dark like a giant snake pit. He started to slow, dread creeping in his veins when he thought of going into the pit of danger with his thirteen year-old daughter in tow. He had been in the caves like this before, on missions with the fellow Rangers, and had at times barely escaped with his life. He would have never even had taken Dirhael with him, let alone Elanor.
Perhaps you should have left her with the slave, after all.
Don't mock me, elf! Talion gritted his teeth.
"Father, look!"
Elanor's shout made him look up to see a pale form. Scrawny and hunched over like the rat it was, it leered back at them before turning around and fleeing in the darkness of the cave.
"There! It's on the run!" exclaimed Elanor, sprinting ahead.
"Wait-Elanor!" shouted Talion, realizing too late that she had been ahead of him and started running after her. Irrational panic seized him when her form disappeared in the shadows, stray bats flying out into daylight with loud squeaks.
Reckless child!
"ELANOR!"
(Elanor)
As my father called after me, bats appeared and flew over my ahead, causing my head to duck down to avoid their flapping wings before I entered the darkness. I do not know what possessed me to go on ahead, but the sight of the strange creature near the cave entrance of us both frightened and fueled my determination.
Looking around, the cave was dark, but the light from the entrance was bright enough for my eyes to make out the outlines of rocky walls, the damp ceiling, and jagged cliff plateaus full of minerals and...and...
Bones!
My heart skipped a beat when I heard rapid breathing, rather than my own. I listened to the raspy breaths echo from mysterious non-orc. It made rather wretched noises that made my heart pound faster. Where did it go?
"What do you think you are doing?"
I yelped and stopped right before the stern-looking wraith, who appeared before me like light in the wind. "You think you can just run off and handle matters on your own?" the elf wraith pointed, standing tall in my path.
Heart still pounding from the scare, I glared at him and retorted, "No! It wasn't like that! I was just-"
"Elanor!" A large hand grabbed my arm and forced me to turn toward an angry Father. "Did I not already tell you to stay close?" he growled, shaking me a little too roughly. "Look around you! We are in a Caragor cave, for Eru's sake! Do you know what that is?"
Caragors. I read about them not too long ago and were even told about them by a few Black Gate Rangers from long patrols, but I had never actually seen one. Their description was not very pleasant.
Scared of his anger and the tight grip on my arm, I stammered, "It...T-They're wild beasts of Mordor. Carnivores. I didn't know-"
"Of course you didn't, because you did not think! What if a Caragor, or even an orc had come leaping out of the dark and attacked you without warning?" His fingers dug painfully into my forearm, making me whimper, and his frosty blue eyes flashed angrily. "What then?"
"F-Father, I'm sorry. Please..." I did not know if this was the best time to give me a whipping, as he would to Dirhael and I whenever we got into huge trouble, but Father had never looked this scary before. He...He wouldn't break my arm...would he? Ever since Mother and Dirhael's death, I couldn't help but feel that Father could never be the same again….and somehow that worried me.
"Talion," the wraith spoke up softly.
"What?" Father's head snapped up at the interruption, making me wince. He was really hurting my arm. Enough to leave bruises in the morning.
The elf wraith watched us both grimly. "The tracks lead above." He lifted his arm to gesture at the faint set of tracks that led toward the cliff. "We should hurry."
Thank you so much for your concern, I thought sarcastically toward the stone-cold phantom, who seemed to ignore me the whole time. Bastard, I added to loosen the knot in my chest.
Father blinked, then looked ahead for confirmation, clearly seeing the tracks far better than I could in this dark place. With his attention drawn away, I pulled out of his grasp forcibly and backed away, my hand rubbing where his hold had been. My eyes moistened with hurt, but I did not cry.
I refused to cry, just because Father lost his temper. If that was what it really was.
"Elanor, come." He didn't look at me as he started to approach the cliff.
I wordlessly obeyed, my hurt expression hidden behind my loose hair strands. I wiped my wet nose. My feelings had shifted from fear, to hurt...and then to mortified anger. My face heated and my fists clenched tightly to my sides. It wasn't fair! I wasn't even trying to run off! All I did was run ahead, trying not to lose sight of our target, and Father still scolds me like a child! Eru, even the wraith had the pleasure of humiliating me for the sake of it! I could just tell.
I already felt useless enough as it is! Well….that was going to change. Soon.
When near the cliff, Father turned to look at me, holding out a hand. The hand that hurt my arm. "Elanor..." he said softly. He clearly meant for me to hop onto his back while he climbed us both up the cliff. I bristled. As if!
"I can climb on my own!" I snapped, stepping around his hand stiffly and grabbed hold of a rough ledge to start climbing with angered force.
Below me, I heard Father sigh below me, dropping his hand with a slap, before moving to follow me up. Perhaps he didn't argue to go first because he would be ready to catch me if I fell. Honestly, I have been learning to climb my whole life and Father treats me like I'm a three year-old.
I huffed loudly, as my hand grabbed the ledge above to pull over. I may not be that brave or even that smart sometimes...but I was certainly not clumsy.
(Celebrimbor)
Through Talion's eyes, the elf wraith watched that little human daughter of the Ranger's climb rapidly ahead of them with a pout on her red, freckled face with a mixture of slight amusement and annoyance, while his host only felt some sadness and regret for his earlier actions. When she was angry or stubborn, he could now see some of her father in her. Including the recklessness.
The ghost of his-or rather Talion's-fingers pressing too roughly into her delicate arm felt wrong. He could feel Talion's guilt eat up his insides, making him question his own behavior, allowing fear to blind his mind and judgement, unleashing such a reaction against his daughter too harshly to be considered justifiable...could it be the stress of everything they have been through...or was it something else entirely? Something...unnatural. The Ranger hoped that it was not the latter.
Thoughts and feelings that revolved around fear, anger, or anxiety were easy to sense with having to dig too deeply, because they made no effort in hiding themselves. Therefore, the wraith was able to become one with Talion in his thoughts and feelings without having to take control...because those were similar feelings that the wraith himself had other than numbness. Anger, fear, anxiety...simply not too complicated to unravel.
Although, when it came to other feelings, slightly surfaced with the slight traces of warmth, compassion, love...especially toward young Elanor...
Every time he looked at her, through Talion's eyes or his own from the exterior, her brown hair, her small figure, the sharp contrast in her innocent, jewel-colored eyes...every time he felt her smooth skin, her delicate bones, and soft hair with Talion's touch of comfort...the wraith felt those feelings stir. Like a forgotten memory.
Those warm, soothing, strange, and utterly confusing feelings.
Every time he watched the infuriatingly naive, reckless, and highly emotional little girl through Talion's eyes, he could not help but feel that she reminded him of someone.
But he could not, for the death of him, remember who.
Why did she make him feel like this? Why was it, at times like this, that he felt the need to feel...
What, protective? He inwardly scoffed. Nonsense. These feelings are Talion's, not mine.
As Elanor pulled herself over the cliff, Talion reached and pulled himself up. A sudden buzz of energy surged through him. Him and Talion. He had felt it at a distance, when they had been following the creature to the mountains.
Whatever they were looking for, it was close. Very close.
(Elanor)
The slightest glimmer of light caught my eye.
Standing on the flat surface of the higher grounds, I slowly approached the object laying in the dark space with nothing else surrounding it. More importantly, I felt this strange, cold pull toward its location as though I were silently beckoned by some unknown, supernatural force. Not unlike the elf wraith, actually. Squinting for refocus the closer I got, I made out the outlining of a necklace, its framing embedded with wired gold and silver, the pendant containing a very large emerald, so green that it practically glowed in the darkness.
A necklace. In the middle of a Caravor cave? Strange. Frowning, I reached down to pick it up...only to stiffen when hearing a growl echo through the caves, causing me to freeze. Caragors? In that moment, I had half-expected one to leap out and attack.
"Elanor?" I looked back up at my father with wide eyes, still bending halfway over. He frowned when finally spotting the object of interest at my feet and crouched next to me. "What is this?"
Father gently picked up the necklace to observe it more closely, and I reached over to touch it, since I was the one who found it first-
-when suddenly came a blinding flash of light before my eyes-
-followed by an agonizing tsunami of fire and ice flooding my entire my body.
Screams.
Father's...and my own...the world went into distortion, surrounded by flashes of light, dark, and pain-falling-drowning-
Silver. Shiny silver.
Blood. Dark, red blood.
Dripping...dripping from the silver. Each drop hit the ground with a sickening splash, creating puddles around this red-hazed, foggy universe...the only sounds in the room ragged breathing and the muffled rhythm of a slowing heartbeat...the vision refocused more sharply, revealing the bloodied, silver object to be a hammer. An elvish hammer, the markings on its surface unmistakable.
Pain. So much, hellish, excruciating pain.
Screams...sobs...wails of the purest agony...
Beyond the silver hammer hovering in the vision lay two bodies. Too still and sprawled to be living, surrounded by the smells of gore and death. Blond hair and brown hair, drenched in blood...their eyes half-lidded, staring back with lifeless, glassy eyes...
Hell. This was hell.
...When they had been alive, they were beautiful. Smiling back at him with pride and love. She, his beloved, her golden hair and green eyes that bore a diadem over her graceful features...
...and she, his precious child, his treasure, her brown hair and innocent yet intelligent blue-green eyes looking back at him with the sweetest smile...
...around her neck dangled the shiny, emerald pendant.
Ada! Ada!*
The wraith screamed.
(Talion)
Reality came crashing back, as Talion dropped the necklace with a clutter and fell to his knees from the shock of ice-burning pain that disappeared as quickly as it came. He was gasping for breath, trying to calm his racing heart. Beside him, the elf wraith was there, kneeling beside him with pale hands hovering over the emerald pendant. It was as if he wanted to touch it, but obviously couldn't.
Talion certainly had no intention of touching that object any time soon. Beside the wraith, his daughter lay sprawled on the ground, seeming to have passed out.
"Elanor!" he gasped, meaning to reach out to her and nearly fell over when he shook her shoulder. "Elanor..."
Opening her eyes, Elanor jerked away and sat up quickly, gasping for breath. There were tears in her wide eyes. "W-What...what..." she started croaking, unable to form words from the horrible visions she had clearly witnessed. She looked horrified, pale to the face and shaken to the core, but otherwise alright. Talion himself could not erase this awful images in his head. The blood...the silver hammer...the two, dead elleths on the floor...that little elf lass, wearing the very same pendant on the ground in the center...
Did they just glimpse into the past? The Elf Lord's past?
"What manner of spell is this?" rasped Talion, staring at the pendant with a shiver, not deciding whether or not to pick it back up. Was it cursed?
"A lost heirloom, Talion," came a soft, broken reply.
Both Talion and Elanor looked up at the wraith kneeling before them. His mutilated face was now distorted with sorrow and pain. Talion met his ghostly eyes, and then immediately understood. "You remember," he said softly.
The wraith nodded. "A few broken images, yes..." he murmured, glancing at the necklace and then back at Talion, never once at Elanor, "though now I wish that I didn't."
Talion found it hard to breathe, recalling the images and the expressions of horror and devastation it contained. It was...just like the fate of his family. The same hellish slaughter, the same loss...Talion reached out a shaky arm toward Elanor, needing her by his side. The young girl complied, crawling over to him with silent sobs and burrowed herself against him. He wrapped his arm around her small, shivering body, pressed his cheek to her hair, reassured that she was still here, though slightly traumatized.
"Your family..." he whispered, tightening his hold on Elanor before glancing at the elf wraith, "was..."
"Perhaps that pain," spoke the wraith, slowly, "is what connects us. And Elanor...her blood is your blood, which makes her connection just as strong. There is no question." The wraith looked at Elanor, who was still being held by her father. "Elanor...come here," he said, sounding surprisingly gentle. "Pick up the necklace."
Talion stiffened, while Elanor looked up in confusion, fear glazing her eyes. "W-What?" That seemed like the very last thing she wanted to do. Talion didn't blame her. He still couldn't think of why they were here in the first place.
"The visions have passed. It should be safe to touch now. Pick it up."
Elanor sniffed, wiping her eyes, and moved away from Talion's side, slowly reaching out for the necklace. While her hand hesitated for a moment, she finally plucked the pendant with delicate fingers. No visions, pain, or flashes followed. Feeling more confidant, she studied with both hands with wonder in her blue eyes, while the wraith seemed to watch her with quiet fascination.
Talion, however, could not help but think to his astonishment that this mysterious undead Elf Lord also had a daughter. And this had once belonged to her, a beautiful emerald framed with silver and gold, now resting in Elanor's hands.
Suddenly, a raspy growl sounded his ears. Looking up over his shoulder, Elanor gasped, "Father!" and he instantly whipped around to find a pair of long, gangly fingers and two glowing eyes peering at them from the edge of the cliff.
Gollum will show soon, I promise! Elanor's POV on the necklace next. What do you think of their reactions and the flashback?
Love your reviews, as usual!:) Happy New Year!