I am known as Elarwen, the noble star maiden. I have no relation to Lady Arwen Evenstar; my name is simply the nearest translation of my pen name.
I am here to tell you a tale. A tale of the forgotten; a tale of wonder and mystery; a tale of magic and the unbelievable. I am not here to convince you- believe what you want. But I know the truth.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The Song was simple in the beginning. A single melody. But slowly the harmonies mixed with the melodies. More thoughts were introduced. A symphony.
But Evil entered. Discord. All was not right. But the One even made this too fit the Song.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
So it was. So it has been. So it will be again.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
But the Truth was distorted. History became Legend... Legend became Myth... and some things that should not have been forgotten were lost. Ages have passed since the glorious days of Middle Earth. Hobbits have not even been remembered in Myths. None remember the dangers and wonders of the world at that time. But the Evils are still there, simply watching and waiting...
And so the tale begins... the tapestry is great and magnificent. I am simply here to weave this amazing tale to you as best I can...
(Samwise Gamgee, Legolas Greenleaf, and Gimli son of Gloin never made it to the Blessed Realm in the west. This might be explained later.
Also, please forgive my lack of accents. Modern technology does not always cooperate with the ancient magics, and my computer is simply more proof of this. I am not the Lord of the Rings- that is Lord Tolkien, the master of Middle Earth. He is simply my inspiration.)
************************************************************************************************************************************************
"Samuel Gardener!"
Sam's head shot up from the desk. The teacher glared at him. "For the fifth time, what is the answer to number 47?"
Sam stared at the map blankly. None of it seemed right. He could never remember the continents or locations of the nations. His teachers often accused him of making up countries that didn't exist. His classmates just considered him stupid and weird. He never knew where the strange thoughts cam from, it just seemed natural. "Uh..."
"Croatia!" whispered Rosemary from the seat behind him. He'd know Rosemary for a long time (they'd grown up together) and she was the one person who didn't laugh at his oddness. She was the only one who really understood him. "Uh... Croatia?"
"Correct," said the teacher. "Thank you for FINALLY answering. Croatia, formerly part of Yugoslavia, is located in Eastern Europe..." The teacher's voice droned on and Sam felt his head nodding...
o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~
Lan was on the roof again. "Star-gazer" they called him. He didn't mind. He didn't really have any friends, except the sky, and the woods, and the birds. A door opened and a group of rough boys walked out.
"What are you lookin' at, Woods?" asked the meanest of the group. "Got any friends up there?"
"They're better company than you are, Mike Walner."
Mike pushed the comment aside. "We've got somethin' to talk about, Woods. Somethin' concernin' my girl."
Lan called it his curse. He was perhaps the best looking guy in school, though he never tried. Too many girls fell for his looks and were constantly flirting and trying to tempt him. Not that any ever succeeded.
"I don't concern myself with what Miranda does," he answered.
"Oh really? Then why do I hear that she was all over you yesterday? She's mine, Woods, and you better learn that fast or your gonna have to make friends with my fists."
Lan wasn't a fighter, but he'd been through this before. He sat there quietly humming unknown tunes and didn't respond. Mike began rolling up his sleeves, but then he thought better of it.
"Hey, Throckmorton, time to prove your loyalty! Pound this Star-gazer to dust!"
Gregory Throckmorton was pushed forward. He was short and stocky, with strong arms and bristly auburn hair. He was new to the group. It had been a bit of an inherited position for him- his brother who graduated a year ago had been one of Walner's good friends so Greg was just automatically considered one of the group. But he was always on the outskirts, never really getting into what they did. Here was just another example of it.
He was jealous of Lan for his looks and how he attracted girls but never paid any attention to them (while Greg had been laughed at for his stockiness all his life), but he had never actually picked a fight before. He hesitated.
BRRRING!! Saved by the bell. Classes were about to begin again.
"We'll save this for tomorrow, Woods," said Mike as he and the gang hurried away.
Greg hesitated and slowly turned to follow. "You don't have to go along with them," said a voice behind him. He turned back to the aloof teen.
"What are you talking about?"
"You don't want to be with them. You feel that you don't belong there. You're right."
"Huh?"
"The stars are better friends than that group."
"I guess..."
The second bell rang. They were late.
"We better go," said Greg. Lan nodded and lightly ran down the stairs and Greg followed heavily. From that day on they were friends.
o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~
Aaron was an orphan. His mother brought him off the streets to a convent where she died a few days after birth. He was told his father was long dead.
He grew up with the Sisters. They taught him everything he knew. They gave him his own room and clothes and food out of the kindness of their hearts. It was much better than living off the streets.
As he grew, he felt that it was his duty to repay their kindness. Besides serving as altar boy and helping with chores, he began to run errands for them. That's when he first met his people.
He had never known poverty, though that is where he came from. But at last he was exposed to the real world, complete with all its horrors. He refused to be well-off while his people suffered.
He never stole for himself. The Sisters provided for him and he had no want. He only stole for those in need who couldn't help themselves- food usually, sometimes clothes or blankets or boxes. "Strider" the people called him because of how boldly he would face the danger, and "Prince of the Thieves." Like Robin Hood, he would steal from the rich and give to the poor.
He was older now. Most of the time he was working for the sisters, but in the afternoon, he went to his people, the street people. Stealing little from only those with excess amounts, he would help them...
o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~
CLANG! RUMBLE! BOOM! THUMP!! The sounds of destruction echoed through the house. The two cousins stood at the top of the stairs and gave each other high-fives. But their victory didn't last long.
"MAXIMILIAN BRADY AND PETER HENRY COOK!!" The two boys ran for cover as their Aunt Amelia marched angrily upstairs. In a few minutes she had found them both and was leading them downstairs by their ears.
"Honestly, I would never have thought that dear Esmeralda or even Paladin, with his mischievous streak, could have produced such monsters as you. How did I ever get stuck with you?!"
In truth, they all knew. Amelia's younger brother and sister were Paladin and Esmeralda- Pete's father and Max's mother. Their children were born only a few months apart. When the cousins were about a year old, their parents decided to take a break and relax. The two couples left the boys with Amelia as they rode that fatal train. None survived that crash, and Max and Pete had lived with Aunt Amelia ever since.
Aunt Amelia sat them down in chairs facing the walls. "How many times must I ground you to gain a little peace?"
The boys grinned. "Why would you want peace, Auntie? After all, don't we make your life more exciting?"
"You're GROUNDED!!! Remember?!? Not ANOTHER WORD, from EITHER of you!!!"
o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~
Arriane stared at the massive cathedral in front of her. Sure, she'd visited before, but never on her own to be left for weeks.
But her father had already flown away. He had another business deal to close, to gain even more money. Arriane looked at her lavish clothes and belongings around her. "But aren't we rich enough already?"
Taking a steading breath, she clutched the note for the Revrend Mother [AN: Is that the correct title? If not, I mean the highest nun.] in front of her and, gathering her suitcases, stepped inside.
o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~
But none realized how strongly the lines of fate were drawn between them. None would guess that the quest would begin again. Even as Elbereth stood at Manwe's side in the tower on Taniquetil in the Blessed Realm, none could comprehend that the fate of two worlds lay in their trembling hands...
************************************************************************************************************************************************
Well, what did you think? I think that even if you couldn't tell from the personalities and hints dropped here and there, you could probably guess from the names who each of the above are. Once again, sorry about the accents. A few I actually did get to work, but as you can see with "Manwe" not all.
I dunno exactly where this fic is going, and I have no clue when I'll put the next chapter up. But all I can say is that you will begin to see parallels from their past lives, if you haven't seen them already. And we will remeet more characters...
Please review! Thank you so much! Namárië
I am here to tell you a tale. A tale of the forgotten; a tale of wonder and mystery; a tale of magic and the unbelievable. I am not here to convince you- believe what you want. But I know the truth.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The Song was simple in the beginning. A single melody. But slowly the harmonies mixed with the melodies. More thoughts were introduced. A symphony.
But Evil entered. Discord. All was not right. But the One even made this too fit the Song.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
So it was. So it has been. So it will be again.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
But the Truth was distorted. History became Legend... Legend became Myth... and some things that should not have been forgotten were lost. Ages have passed since the glorious days of Middle Earth. Hobbits have not even been remembered in Myths. None remember the dangers and wonders of the world at that time. But the Evils are still there, simply watching and waiting...
And so the tale begins... the tapestry is great and magnificent. I am simply here to weave this amazing tale to you as best I can...
(Samwise Gamgee, Legolas Greenleaf, and Gimli son of Gloin never made it to the Blessed Realm in the west. This might be explained later.
Also, please forgive my lack of accents. Modern technology does not always cooperate with the ancient magics, and my computer is simply more proof of this. I am not the Lord of the Rings- that is Lord Tolkien, the master of Middle Earth. He is simply my inspiration.)
************************************************************************************************************************************************
"Samuel Gardener!"
Sam's head shot up from the desk. The teacher glared at him. "For the fifth time, what is the answer to number 47?"
Sam stared at the map blankly. None of it seemed right. He could never remember the continents or locations of the nations. His teachers often accused him of making up countries that didn't exist. His classmates just considered him stupid and weird. He never knew where the strange thoughts cam from, it just seemed natural. "Uh..."
"Croatia!" whispered Rosemary from the seat behind him. He'd know Rosemary for a long time (they'd grown up together) and she was the one person who didn't laugh at his oddness. She was the only one who really understood him. "Uh... Croatia?"
"Correct," said the teacher. "Thank you for FINALLY answering. Croatia, formerly part of Yugoslavia, is located in Eastern Europe..." The teacher's voice droned on and Sam felt his head nodding...
o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~
Lan was on the roof again. "Star-gazer" they called him. He didn't mind. He didn't really have any friends, except the sky, and the woods, and the birds. A door opened and a group of rough boys walked out.
"What are you lookin' at, Woods?" asked the meanest of the group. "Got any friends up there?"
"They're better company than you are, Mike Walner."
Mike pushed the comment aside. "We've got somethin' to talk about, Woods. Somethin' concernin' my girl."
Lan called it his curse. He was perhaps the best looking guy in school, though he never tried. Too many girls fell for his looks and were constantly flirting and trying to tempt him. Not that any ever succeeded.
"I don't concern myself with what Miranda does," he answered.
"Oh really? Then why do I hear that she was all over you yesterday? She's mine, Woods, and you better learn that fast or your gonna have to make friends with my fists."
Lan wasn't a fighter, but he'd been through this before. He sat there quietly humming unknown tunes and didn't respond. Mike began rolling up his sleeves, but then he thought better of it.
"Hey, Throckmorton, time to prove your loyalty! Pound this Star-gazer to dust!"
Gregory Throckmorton was pushed forward. He was short and stocky, with strong arms and bristly auburn hair. He was new to the group. It had been a bit of an inherited position for him- his brother who graduated a year ago had been one of Walner's good friends so Greg was just automatically considered one of the group. But he was always on the outskirts, never really getting into what they did. Here was just another example of it.
He was jealous of Lan for his looks and how he attracted girls but never paid any attention to them (while Greg had been laughed at for his stockiness all his life), but he had never actually picked a fight before. He hesitated.
BRRRING!! Saved by the bell. Classes were about to begin again.
"We'll save this for tomorrow, Woods," said Mike as he and the gang hurried away.
Greg hesitated and slowly turned to follow. "You don't have to go along with them," said a voice behind him. He turned back to the aloof teen.
"What are you talking about?"
"You don't want to be with them. You feel that you don't belong there. You're right."
"Huh?"
"The stars are better friends than that group."
"I guess..."
The second bell rang. They were late.
"We better go," said Greg. Lan nodded and lightly ran down the stairs and Greg followed heavily. From that day on they were friends.
o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~
Aaron was an orphan. His mother brought him off the streets to a convent where she died a few days after birth. He was told his father was long dead.
He grew up with the Sisters. They taught him everything he knew. They gave him his own room and clothes and food out of the kindness of their hearts. It was much better than living off the streets.
As he grew, he felt that it was his duty to repay their kindness. Besides serving as altar boy and helping with chores, he began to run errands for them. That's when he first met his people.
He had never known poverty, though that is where he came from. But at last he was exposed to the real world, complete with all its horrors. He refused to be well-off while his people suffered.
He never stole for himself. The Sisters provided for him and he had no want. He only stole for those in need who couldn't help themselves- food usually, sometimes clothes or blankets or boxes. "Strider" the people called him because of how boldly he would face the danger, and "Prince of the Thieves." Like Robin Hood, he would steal from the rich and give to the poor.
He was older now. Most of the time he was working for the sisters, but in the afternoon, he went to his people, the street people. Stealing little from only those with excess amounts, he would help them...
o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~
CLANG! RUMBLE! BOOM! THUMP!! The sounds of destruction echoed through the house. The two cousins stood at the top of the stairs and gave each other high-fives. But their victory didn't last long.
"MAXIMILIAN BRADY AND PETER HENRY COOK!!" The two boys ran for cover as their Aunt Amelia marched angrily upstairs. In a few minutes she had found them both and was leading them downstairs by their ears.
"Honestly, I would never have thought that dear Esmeralda or even Paladin, with his mischievous streak, could have produced such monsters as you. How did I ever get stuck with you?!"
In truth, they all knew. Amelia's younger brother and sister were Paladin and Esmeralda- Pete's father and Max's mother. Their children were born only a few months apart. When the cousins were about a year old, their parents decided to take a break and relax. The two couples left the boys with Amelia as they rode that fatal train. None survived that crash, and Max and Pete had lived with Aunt Amelia ever since.
Aunt Amelia sat them down in chairs facing the walls. "How many times must I ground you to gain a little peace?"
The boys grinned. "Why would you want peace, Auntie? After all, don't we make your life more exciting?"
"You're GROUNDED!!! Remember?!? Not ANOTHER WORD, from EITHER of you!!!"
o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~
Arriane stared at the massive cathedral in front of her. Sure, she'd visited before, but never on her own to be left for weeks.
But her father had already flown away. He had another business deal to close, to gain even more money. Arriane looked at her lavish clothes and belongings around her. "But aren't we rich enough already?"
Taking a steading breath, she clutched the note for the Revrend Mother [AN: Is that the correct title? If not, I mean the highest nun.] in front of her and, gathering her suitcases, stepped inside.
o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~
But none realized how strongly the lines of fate were drawn between them. None would guess that the quest would begin again. Even as Elbereth stood at Manwe's side in the tower on Taniquetil in the Blessed Realm, none could comprehend that the fate of two worlds lay in their trembling hands...
************************************************************************************************************************************************
Well, what did you think? I think that even if you couldn't tell from the personalities and hints dropped here and there, you could probably guess from the names who each of the above are. Once again, sorry about the accents. A few I actually did get to work, but as you can see with "Manwe" not all.
I dunno exactly where this fic is going, and I have no clue when I'll put the next chapter up. But all I can say is that you will begin to see parallels from their past lives, if you haven't seen them already. And we will remeet more characters...
Please review! Thank you so much! Namárië