DISCLAIMER: Okay, in this chapter I own everything except Lothlórien, and that's only mentioned, so I'm pretty safe. J
AUTHOR'S NOTE'S: Enjoy. Please Read and Review. I want everybody's opinion on this. It will be continued into a series titled "The Daughter of Aldáe".
The Daughter of Aldáe: The Birth of a DaughterBy Stefanie Galvin
Denith watched silently as the Kingdom's Healer pulled a sheet over Queen Dúelen's face. The Healer was trying to hide the tears that flowed down his cheeks. The beloved Queen of Aldáe had passed into the Sacred Halls [1], leaving behind her husband, and her newborn daughter.
Denith was the Queen's nephew, and had just returned home from traveling far across Middle Earth. The reason for his return was that he wished to be home when his cousin was born. Unfortunately, that birth had resulted in the death of his aunty. Not that he could spite such a beautiful baby who had no notion of what had just happened.
It was extremely rare that an Elven woman would die during childbirth – although, it was not unheard of.
And so, this unfortunate turn of events had turned a day that was to be of great happiness – as this was to be Dúelen's first child – into a day of great sadness. In fact, since his wife's death, Ëardae had left the child in Denith's care, while he had gone off on his own to mourn.
Looking down at the sleeping little girl that he held in his arms, Denith couldn't help but smile a tiny smile. The baby seemed to be the spitting image of Dúelen – with hair more red than brown, and snow-coloured skin. Even the contented smile that graced her baby face gave her the appearance of her mother.
'Laoúra milá tauri,[2]' he whispered to her as he cradled her in his arms.
She opened her tiny eyes, revealing eyes as blue and clear as the water of the river Alda that flowed through the tiny forest kingdom of Aldáe.
'I think, little one, that we shall name you Sîrelen[3]," Denith said softly.
*
(2 Weeks Later)
Marilliar looked at her husband, shock plastered across her face. She looked towards the room where Sîrelen was sleeping.
'What will happen to her?' she asked Denith, her voice quiet with pain.
Denith cupped his wife's face gently. 'The people are already uneasy about her because of Dúelen's death,' he said. 'I fear that I must take her away from Aldáe, if only so that she can live a peaceful life.'
Tears were slipping down Marilliar's face. 'Where will you take her? She cannot grow up among Men, even if they do not cause us harm. She will outlive the ones we call friends, and then what?'
'Nay, Marilliar, I will not take her to live with Men.' He sighed. 'I will take her to Lothlórien. Someone there is bound to take care of such a beautiful baby.' He pulled his wife to him, and held her as she cried. 'I shall ride at dusk, before the Herald announces the King's death to our people, and return within a few days.'
'Why Lothlórien? Why not Mirkwood? 'Tis closer.'
'Mirkwood is almost constantly defending it's borders. Sîrelen should grow up somewhere safe from harm.'
Marilliar nodded. 'I will pack some of her possessions for her. She should always remember her true home, Denith. Always.'
'Agreed.' Denith nodded. He would not admit it to her, but he did not think that it would be a good idea for Sîrelen to remember her true home. It would be too full of heartbreak for her. 'It is settled then. I will ride at dusk.'
*
(Dusk)
In the castle's stables, Marilliar handed Sîrelen to Denith who was already upon his horse. It was devoid of all noise, save for the rustling of the leaves as a slight breeze blowed through Aldáe.
'Ride swiftly, my love,' she said, hiding the tears that threatened to overflow. 'Take good care of her.'
Denith leaned down and kissed the top of his wife's head. 'Stay safe, híe milá.'[4]
And with that, he rode hard to the forest of Lothlórien.
*
[To Be Continued]
[1] The name that the Aldáe use for Heaven, or next world.
[2] 'Sleep, sweet child.'
[3] River-star
[4] 'Stay safe, my sweet.'
