May have some Mary-Sue. If you don't like it, save me the honor of your flames!!! Thanks! Also, I've taken the liberty of inventing a few characters...to say the least. So if you see any names you do not recognize...you know why.
A Time of Need
Alakdaliel brushed a weary hand over her forehead, attempting to rid herself of the heat that had plastered itself to her. Naturally, she loved the forest. The evergreen trees whispering to her as she idly walked along, and the flowers blowing their sent made it a lovely and welcoming place. But as soon as summer had set in, the flowers began to wilt from the heavy heat, and even Alakdaliel had to summon her strength to keep her back in posture.
A daughter to the Great King Imrahial of Archwood, Alakdaliel never lacked in luxury, or even love. But the forests gave her what her parents could not. They gave her freedom. And she treasured it with every ounce of honor she held in her being.
Sitting down against the trunk of a tall Oak, she closed her eyes. No older than sixteen winters, Alakdaliel was just approaching womanhood, and some still recognized her as a child. But their eyes betrayed them. She was truly blossoming into a princess, harboring her own desires until times like these, were she could go about as she pleased.
Looking up into the leaves of the Oak, she sighed.
"You know how I feel, don't you?" She said, wiping a strand of hair out of her eyes. The Great Oak stirred.
"Indeed dear, I do. You forget, I too am rooted to my spot." Although expecting an answer, Alakdaliel had never realized how little the trees had to themselves, sharing everything around them.
"'Tis true, but you are free of the duties of court and idle talkings of suitors who wish no more than the crown. Archwood is too quiet a place. Full of warriors we are, and brimming to the top with honorable hero's told in storybooks for our children' children, but for what? The Golden Wood and Mirkwood are where I wish to go. Though, I dread leaving my parents..."
"You are but young, and should not catch a fever over such things. My branches are long, for I hear a Songbird yet for you. Wait and you will find what you wish. Summon what you wish, and you will have nothing." The Oak again whispered to her. The Oak's were known for their wisdom, and had succeeded in making Alakdaliel feel better.
"I thank you for your words of wisdom, Great Oak" Alakdaliel replied, honestly. Closing her eyes and again leaning her head against the trunk of the Oak, a content smile played across her lips. 'By the Valar, let my wish be known to me, for I have no clue as to what my heart desires.'
Before she could finish her prayer, a blood-curdling scream cut through the summer air, followed by dozens more. Turning in the direction of the city, Alakdaliel's eyes widened. A dark cloud had descended over head as masked shadows poured in. Orcs.
Grabbing her blue skirts and tucking her golden hair behind her pointed ears, Alakdaliel sprinted toward the city, aware only of the tortured cries coming from her people's homes. Dodging flying weapons, and using her agile speed, she found herself at the gate of the palace, blood scattered along the tile floor. A feeling of dread overwhelmed her.
Running up the spiral stairs from the Great Hall and into the throne room, Alakdaliel was met with a scene of horror.
" Ammë! Atar! Do not leave me now!" Climbing over heaps of dead bodies, Alakdaliel flung herself onto the dying bodies of her parents. Uncontrollable tears ran down her face. Letting out a scream of rage, she hit the ground with her hand.
"Where are Archwood's mighty warriors now! Where are the hero's we have honored for centuries!" Looking around desperately to no avail, Alakdaliel clung to the robes of the King, crying out to the Valar. She knew in the depths of her mind they were dead, but refused to accept it.
A distant figure was walking to the palace, and as it approached Alakdaliel recognized it as an elf.
"vëaner! Over here! Help me!" The figure, now spotting her, raised itself from its slumped position and ran quickly to the thrown room
"ohtacar! My king!" Throwing himself on to the floor, he placed his ear to the chest. "His heart does not beat. I am sorry, My Princess." He looked up at her gravely.
Knowing she would not cry in front of another being, Alakdaliel composed herself. Blinking her eyes rapidly to rid herself of the previous tears, she sat up straight.
"You are a General, are you not?" She asked.
"'Tis true. I am what you say." The man replied.
"Well than General" Alakdaliel began in the most regal and commanding tone she owned " What is the status of Archwood? Why were my people attacked? And why were we not able to...suppress them?" She tried to keep the bitterness out of her voice.
"Your Highness, we tried. We truly did. Though, we were not prepared for an attack of such magnitude. There were thousands of Orcs. We had not enough forces to hold the back. I do not know why we were attacked, My Lady, nor do I think I ever will. As to the status of Archwood? Most are dead. I fear there are no more than three dozen left." He trailed off, letting the full of it hit him.
"Archwood is gone." Alakdaliel whispered to herself.
"Nay lady, not gone, for you still breathe. I trust in you. Rise above!" With those empowering words, Alakdaliel summoned the courage she needed to stand.
"I trust in you to find the first survivor and send him to our nearest neighboring city, Mirkwood. Tell the King to come quickly, at the call of Princess Alakdaliel of Archwood. Tell him it is urgent, and I will be ever at his expense." She turned, but stopped her self.
"And general?" She asked, her voice barely audible.
"Yes, My Lady?"
"Find the dead a proper burial."
"As you wish."
Not done yet! Legolas soon to come. Please review!
A Time of Need
Alakdaliel brushed a weary hand over her forehead, attempting to rid herself of the heat that had plastered itself to her. Naturally, she loved the forest. The evergreen trees whispering to her as she idly walked along, and the flowers blowing their sent made it a lovely and welcoming place. But as soon as summer had set in, the flowers began to wilt from the heavy heat, and even Alakdaliel had to summon her strength to keep her back in posture.
A daughter to the Great King Imrahial of Archwood, Alakdaliel never lacked in luxury, or even love. But the forests gave her what her parents could not. They gave her freedom. And she treasured it with every ounce of honor she held in her being.
Sitting down against the trunk of a tall Oak, she closed her eyes. No older than sixteen winters, Alakdaliel was just approaching womanhood, and some still recognized her as a child. But their eyes betrayed them. She was truly blossoming into a princess, harboring her own desires until times like these, were she could go about as she pleased.
Looking up into the leaves of the Oak, she sighed.
"You know how I feel, don't you?" She said, wiping a strand of hair out of her eyes. The Great Oak stirred.
"Indeed dear, I do. You forget, I too am rooted to my spot." Although expecting an answer, Alakdaliel had never realized how little the trees had to themselves, sharing everything around them.
"'Tis true, but you are free of the duties of court and idle talkings of suitors who wish no more than the crown. Archwood is too quiet a place. Full of warriors we are, and brimming to the top with honorable hero's told in storybooks for our children' children, but for what? The Golden Wood and Mirkwood are where I wish to go. Though, I dread leaving my parents..."
"You are but young, and should not catch a fever over such things. My branches are long, for I hear a Songbird yet for you. Wait and you will find what you wish. Summon what you wish, and you will have nothing." The Oak again whispered to her. The Oak's were known for their wisdom, and had succeeded in making Alakdaliel feel better.
"I thank you for your words of wisdom, Great Oak" Alakdaliel replied, honestly. Closing her eyes and again leaning her head against the trunk of the Oak, a content smile played across her lips. 'By the Valar, let my wish be known to me, for I have no clue as to what my heart desires.'
Before she could finish her prayer, a blood-curdling scream cut through the summer air, followed by dozens more. Turning in the direction of the city, Alakdaliel's eyes widened. A dark cloud had descended over head as masked shadows poured in. Orcs.
Grabbing her blue skirts and tucking her golden hair behind her pointed ears, Alakdaliel sprinted toward the city, aware only of the tortured cries coming from her people's homes. Dodging flying weapons, and using her agile speed, she found herself at the gate of the palace, blood scattered along the tile floor. A feeling of dread overwhelmed her.
Running up the spiral stairs from the Great Hall and into the throne room, Alakdaliel was met with a scene of horror.
" Ammë! Atar! Do not leave me now!" Climbing over heaps of dead bodies, Alakdaliel flung herself onto the dying bodies of her parents. Uncontrollable tears ran down her face. Letting out a scream of rage, she hit the ground with her hand.
"Where are Archwood's mighty warriors now! Where are the hero's we have honored for centuries!" Looking around desperately to no avail, Alakdaliel clung to the robes of the King, crying out to the Valar. She knew in the depths of her mind they were dead, but refused to accept it.
A distant figure was walking to the palace, and as it approached Alakdaliel recognized it as an elf.
"vëaner! Over here! Help me!" The figure, now spotting her, raised itself from its slumped position and ran quickly to the thrown room
"ohtacar! My king!" Throwing himself on to the floor, he placed his ear to the chest. "His heart does not beat. I am sorry, My Princess." He looked up at her gravely.
Knowing she would not cry in front of another being, Alakdaliel composed herself. Blinking her eyes rapidly to rid herself of the previous tears, she sat up straight.
"You are a General, are you not?" She asked.
"'Tis true. I am what you say." The man replied.
"Well than General" Alakdaliel began in the most regal and commanding tone she owned " What is the status of Archwood? Why were my people attacked? And why were we not able to...suppress them?" She tried to keep the bitterness out of her voice.
"Your Highness, we tried. We truly did. Though, we were not prepared for an attack of such magnitude. There were thousands of Orcs. We had not enough forces to hold the back. I do not know why we were attacked, My Lady, nor do I think I ever will. As to the status of Archwood? Most are dead. I fear there are no more than three dozen left." He trailed off, letting the full of it hit him.
"Archwood is gone." Alakdaliel whispered to herself.
"Nay lady, not gone, for you still breathe. I trust in you. Rise above!" With those empowering words, Alakdaliel summoned the courage she needed to stand.
"I trust in you to find the first survivor and send him to our nearest neighboring city, Mirkwood. Tell the King to come quickly, at the call of Princess Alakdaliel of Archwood. Tell him it is urgent, and I will be ever at his expense." She turned, but stopped her self.
"And general?" She asked, her voice barely audible.
"Yes, My Lady?"
"Find the dead a proper burial."
"As you wish."
Not done yet! Legolas soon to come. Please review!