I didn't make this clear sorry. The characters Tythiel, Ryldor, Teldor, Delani, and Celendir I got from the name generator, so I do not own them. Neither do I own the fellowship character*I won't say his name or it will ruin the surprise* or Thranduil, or Galadriel.
Teldor stood outside of the Neverwinter gates. He took in a deep breath. It had been four days since the passing of the King. The whole kingdom was in mourning, a dark cloud had fallen upon the kingdom. The elves called it the "Mourning Cloud." It fell upon a kingdom when ever a royal member or a truly loved one had passed to the other side. It blocked out the sun, making the day look blue, and the wind grow cold.
Teldor was waiting for the arrival of King Thranduil of Mirkwood. He was to see that the Kingdom ran smoothly until Celendir received his guidance from Galadreil.
The wind blew across Teldors face and tangled his dark hair. He heard footsteps behind him, Teldor turned around to see a guard come down with a silver lantern, it was quite hard to see well under a mourning cloud. The wind blew and trees performed a rustling sound that soothed tensed nerves. Dead leaves danced gracefully across the dirt road. Teldor sensed that Thranduil was near.
"My Lady, the King of Mirkwood has not yet arrived." Teldor turned around to see Delani on the gates steps. She was wrapped in a cloak, with the hood over her head. Even under the mourning cloud her hazel eyes sparkled, but they had such sadness in them. It was almost painful to look into her.
"Thank you Naldur." She said to the elf-guard who held the lanter. She walked down the steps with her red gown flowing with the wind. Naldur started to follow her, raising the lantern high above her so that she may see. She turned to him and signaled for him to stop. She smiled slightly towards him, it was a soft smile. Naldur bowed his head, and rested the lamp down. Delani walked towards Teldor, who had then turned himself around. Delani went up to his side, not turning her head towards him, but looking straight ahead.
"My Lady, you should go inside, I am sure your mother is in need of you. King Thranduil will certainly understand you not being here for greeting." A sigh came from Delani.
"I must for fill my duty as being Princess of Neverwinter, and for that I will be here for King Thranduil's arrival. I fear though..." they quickly turned their heads to the sound of horses. The wind blew harder. A group of elves came galloping around the bend. They looked invincible upon their horses. Thranduil sat proudly upon a black horse. He slowed his horse to a halt infront of Delani and Teldor.
Thranduil was a handsome elf, much like Delani's father; handsome, long blonde hair, blue eyes that could be seen through the thickest mist. Thranduil was in his traveling clothes, he was simple, never worrying about presenting himself in his royal wardrobe to friends.
"My friends!" He cried out at he dismounted. Delani came forward to him, and bowed.
"Neverwinter welcomes you King Thranduil of Mirkwood. Your arrival has been greatly received by the people of my Kingdom." She did not raise her head. She felt a brush of a hand under her hood. The hand went down her cheek and under her chin.
"What is this? What lady stands before me, with no tears, no trembles, no cries for her father, all just to show a proper front?" Thranduil lifted her head. Delani trembled, and tears begin to form in her eyes. She looked at him and said.
"When am I allowed to show such tears?" She smiled a weak smile, which turned quickly into a trembling chin. Thranduil looked at her quite seriously and whispered to her.
"They show when ever need be. Come her child." He gathered her up into his arms. Delani did not hesitate, she clung to him, then buried her head into his cloak and let out a sob.
"They show when ever need be." He whispered once more into her ear.
Later on...
Celendir sat on the throne in his chamber. He sat with his eyebrows slanted down ward, as if he was in deep thought. The Mourning Cloud wind swept through the glassless window and brushed Celendirs hansome face. The cold wind brought the ghost of his father into his mind.
Celendir hadn't shed any tears, for he was still in a state of shock.
`How can someone disappear so quickly?' he thought. He looked around his chamber. Mountains of books, and scriptures flooded the tables and corners of his room. Candles lay about, all burnt down to the wick from endless nights of studying. On the walls were paintings of his family. Each member had their own individual painting.
Celendir's father was the first picture. He wore his pine green tunic, brown hunting pants. He had his bow and arrows slung over his shoulder. In the background lay a forest. Every leaf on every tree was so painfully detailed, you would think you could reach out and pluck the leaves from the very branch.
The next picture was of himself. Celendir stood in a dark blue tunic with olive pants, his blonde hair flowed over his shoulders, and his eyes were a piercing blue. He held a scroll in his left hand, and the kingdom of Neverwinter was painted in the background.
The third picture was of his mother, Queen Tythiel. She wore a red gown, trimmed in white lace at the cuffs of her hands, and neckline. Her dark hair was up in elvish fashion. She had her right hand clasped around a silver pendant that hung around her vanilla colored skin. Behind her stood a statue of a goddess.
The last painting was of Celendirs younger sister, Delani. Delani had upon herself a mustard, sun colored gown. Her light acorn hair lay upon her poised shoulders. Her fingers were curled around a long sword at her side. Behind her was part of a forest, and a fountain.
The detail was so real in each of the paintings; the determanation in the kings eyes, the ruffles in Tythiels gown, the way the sun highlighted their faces, and the grip of Delani's sword.
"How could someone disappear so suddenly?" Celendir said to himself this time aloud. It was only a few days ago that his father was alive. His laughter and charm lit up every room, the look of love in his mothers eyes whenever she saw his father. The days when Celendir looked out the window to see his father practicing Delani's fighting skills.
Celendir closed his eyes and sighed. It was only a few days ago when his father walked in and announced that her was riding into battle. The Orcs were pressing hard against the Gates of Islair. Islair needed his aid, and Ryldor gave his sword to them. Celendir remembered how Delani pleaded to let him ride forth into battle by his side. But Ryldor refused, although Delani did not give up. She fell to her knees and cried out, "Let me fight the darkness! Let me!" Ryldor only gathered her in his arms. But Delanis just pushed away and flew.
In his battle clothes, Ryldor kissed Tytheil goodbye, and wrapped Celendir in an embrace. Then he left, only to come back and die.
Celendir opened his eyes back up. He noticed that the candle he had lit had burned out. Footsteps echoed in the hallway. The two large carved oak doors opened slowly. A slender figure stepped in swiftly.
"Why do you not have a fire burning? It will bring warmth into this room." The figure walked over to the stone carved fire place, that lay below the paintings. The fireplace had been carved into a tree vine, arching up and across. The shadowy figure placed a log into the pit, it mumbled a word in elvish. The second the word was said, flames of fire swept over the log.
The light of the fire lit up the face of the figure, taking away the mask of darkness and revealing the face of Delani.
Teldor stood outside of the Neverwinter gates. He took in a deep breath. It had been four days since the passing of the King. The whole kingdom was in mourning, a dark cloud had fallen upon the kingdom. The elves called it the "Mourning Cloud." It fell upon a kingdom when ever a royal member or a truly loved one had passed to the other side. It blocked out the sun, making the day look blue, and the wind grow cold.
Teldor was waiting for the arrival of King Thranduil of Mirkwood. He was to see that the Kingdom ran smoothly until Celendir received his guidance from Galadreil.
The wind blew across Teldors face and tangled his dark hair. He heard footsteps behind him, Teldor turned around to see a guard come down with a silver lantern, it was quite hard to see well under a mourning cloud. The wind blew and trees performed a rustling sound that soothed tensed nerves. Dead leaves danced gracefully across the dirt road. Teldor sensed that Thranduil was near.
"My Lady, the King of Mirkwood has not yet arrived." Teldor turned around to see Delani on the gates steps. She was wrapped in a cloak, with the hood over her head. Even under the mourning cloud her hazel eyes sparkled, but they had such sadness in them. It was almost painful to look into her.
"Thank you Naldur." She said to the elf-guard who held the lanter. She walked down the steps with her red gown flowing with the wind. Naldur started to follow her, raising the lantern high above her so that she may see. She turned to him and signaled for him to stop. She smiled slightly towards him, it was a soft smile. Naldur bowed his head, and rested the lamp down. Delani walked towards Teldor, who had then turned himself around. Delani went up to his side, not turning her head towards him, but looking straight ahead.
"My Lady, you should go inside, I am sure your mother is in need of you. King Thranduil will certainly understand you not being here for greeting." A sigh came from Delani.
"I must for fill my duty as being Princess of Neverwinter, and for that I will be here for King Thranduil's arrival. I fear though..." they quickly turned their heads to the sound of horses. The wind blew harder. A group of elves came galloping around the bend. They looked invincible upon their horses. Thranduil sat proudly upon a black horse. He slowed his horse to a halt infront of Delani and Teldor.
Thranduil was a handsome elf, much like Delani's father; handsome, long blonde hair, blue eyes that could be seen through the thickest mist. Thranduil was in his traveling clothes, he was simple, never worrying about presenting himself in his royal wardrobe to friends.
"My friends!" He cried out at he dismounted. Delani came forward to him, and bowed.
"Neverwinter welcomes you King Thranduil of Mirkwood. Your arrival has been greatly received by the people of my Kingdom." She did not raise her head. She felt a brush of a hand under her hood. The hand went down her cheek and under her chin.
"What is this? What lady stands before me, with no tears, no trembles, no cries for her father, all just to show a proper front?" Thranduil lifted her head. Delani trembled, and tears begin to form in her eyes. She looked at him and said.
"When am I allowed to show such tears?" She smiled a weak smile, which turned quickly into a trembling chin. Thranduil looked at her quite seriously and whispered to her.
"They show when ever need be. Come her child." He gathered her up into his arms. Delani did not hesitate, she clung to him, then buried her head into his cloak and let out a sob.
"They show when ever need be." He whispered once more into her ear.
Later on...
Celendir sat on the throne in his chamber. He sat with his eyebrows slanted down ward, as if he was in deep thought. The Mourning Cloud wind swept through the glassless window and brushed Celendirs hansome face. The cold wind brought the ghost of his father into his mind.
Celendir hadn't shed any tears, for he was still in a state of shock.
`How can someone disappear so quickly?' he thought. He looked around his chamber. Mountains of books, and scriptures flooded the tables and corners of his room. Candles lay about, all burnt down to the wick from endless nights of studying. On the walls were paintings of his family. Each member had their own individual painting.
Celendir's father was the first picture. He wore his pine green tunic, brown hunting pants. He had his bow and arrows slung over his shoulder. In the background lay a forest. Every leaf on every tree was so painfully detailed, you would think you could reach out and pluck the leaves from the very branch.
The next picture was of himself. Celendir stood in a dark blue tunic with olive pants, his blonde hair flowed over his shoulders, and his eyes were a piercing blue. He held a scroll in his left hand, and the kingdom of Neverwinter was painted in the background.
The third picture was of his mother, Queen Tythiel. She wore a red gown, trimmed in white lace at the cuffs of her hands, and neckline. Her dark hair was up in elvish fashion. She had her right hand clasped around a silver pendant that hung around her vanilla colored skin. Behind her stood a statue of a goddess.
The last painting was of Celendirs younger sister, Delani. Delani had upon herself a mustard, sun colored gown. Her light acorn hair lay upon her poised shoulders. Her fingers were curled around a long sword at her side. Behind her was part of a forest, and a fountain.
The detail was so real in each of the paintings; the determanation in the kings eyes, the ruffles in Tythiels gown, the way the sun highlighted their faces, and the grip of Delani's sword.
"How could someone disappear so suddenly?" Celendir said to himself this time aloud. It was only a few days ago that his father was alive. His laughter and charm lit up every room, the look of love in his mothers eyes whenever she saw his father. The days when Celendir looked out the window to see his father practicing Delani's fighting skills.
Celendir closed his eyes and sighed. It was only a few days ago when his father walked in and announced that her was riding into battle. The Orcs were pressing hard against the Gates of Islair. Islair needed his aid, and Ryldor gave his sword to them. Celendir remembered how Delani pleaded to let him ride forth into battle by his side. But Ryldor refused, although Delani did not give up. She fell to her knees and cried out, "Let me fight the darkness! Let me!" Ryldor only gathered her in his arms. But Delanis just pushed away and flew.
In his battle clothes, Ryldor kissed Tytheil goodbye, and wrapped Celendir in an embrace. Then he left, only to come back and die.
Celendir opened his eyes back up. He noticed that the candle he had lit had burned out. Footsteps echoed in the hallway. The two large carved oak doors opened slowly. A slender figure stepped in swiftly.
"Why do you not have a fire burning? It will bring warmth into this room." The figure walked over to the stone carved fire place, that lay below the paintings. The fireplace had been carved into a tree vine, arching up and across. The shadowy figure placed a log into the pit, it mumbled a word in elvish. The second the word was said, flames of fire swept over the log.
The light of the fire lit up the face of the figure, taking away the mask of darkness and revealing the face of Delani.