Disclaimer: All belongs to Tolkien. I own Norelda, and the child she finds.
A/N Please review. I have discovered the warm glow of a nice review and am
hooked.
They went hunting the next night. Already Arwen looked better, having had a good rest and several hearty meals. Quietly stunning in her smoky-grey gown with a divided skirt for riding, she was fending off her admirers with aplomb and diplomacy. Norelda watched, relieved beyond words that Arwen was getting back to her old self. She glanced down at what she was wearing, and laughed to herself. No wonder they were all flocking around Arwen, Norelda didn't really look like much this morning. She had taken one look at the gown (green again) laid out for her and begun rummaging through her bags for something else to wear. The thing had more lace on it than in her entire wardrobe. She finally settled on a hip length tunic and loose breeches tucked into knee-high boots. She had also discovered, in her hunt through the packs, the old knife-harness she had taken with her from Mithlond. The knives in it were still sharp, and she was surprised to find that it fit her rather well. Glancing in the mirror, she realised suddenly how much she had grown and filled out. Turning this way and that, she decided that she quite liked the shape, and hummed softly to herself as she strapped her bow and quiver on her back. The beautiful black mare she rode shifted under her, eager to get started. The party was assembling in a glade under the light of the full moon. It was strangely silent for so large a group, perhaps forty in all. Then, without preamble, King Thranduil stood up in the stirrups, lifted his arm and waved them forward. They cantered off into the woods, still in silence. Their horses hooves had been muffled and made no sound. They stole like shadows and mist through the moonlight woods, and the animals they hunted would not even be aware of them until it was too late. The Men of the region told stories of the Hunt of the Elves. It was not prudent to get in the way of the Elves, they said, for to them Men are as little as beasts, and they would kill you without a thought. It was nonsense of course, but it kept the Men out of the way. It was strange, surreal, hunting through the forest at night. No-one spoke, and all around them were the noises of the forest, faint as if heard through a screen. Norelda rode almost at the rear of the group, looking around, drinking in sights and almost-sounds of the darkness. The stars overhead blazed bright and clear, identical to the ones she had learned as a child in Mithlond. She picked out the familiar ones, marking the direction they were taking, South. She was so busy looking at the stars, that she would not have seen the child in the bushes had it not whimpered. The sound seemed to echo in the silent forest. The little girl-child was huddled at the base of a tree staring up at all these strange folk on their tall horses, eyes wide with terror. As one, the elves spun their horses, bows in hand, and took aim at the youngling. She gave a soft shriek, the sound amplified all out of proportion in the silence, and cowered back against the bole of the tree. When they saw that it was just a child, they slowly lowered their bows, unsure. Looking around Norelda could see that their faces were worried, even grim. "It's just a child," she said, her voice strangely loud in the silence. "Where's it from?" "Likely from a hunting village just west of here," replied one of the Greenwood elves, she couldn't see which in the dark. "Can't we take her back, then?" Thranduil sighed "We can't," he said, looking truly regretful. "They'll say she's been touched, or even changed. They'll just leave her out in the forest for us again." "Why would they do such a thing to one of their own children?" asked Arwen, looking really shocked. Elven children were prized beyond gold or gems, and no elf would ever think of leaving a child out in the forest to die. "Because they fear us." answered one of the sons grimly. It was her dinner partner - she still couldn't remember his name. They sat in silence for a moment more, and then Norelda asked softly, "What do we do?" "We leave her." Thranduil replied, equally softly. "There is nothing we can do. She will die. Her people will know that we have been hunting this night, and will never take her back." "You are just going to let her die?" cried Arwen, incredulous. "What else would you have us do, Lady? If she does not die this night, she will die tomorrow, or the next day, or in fifty or sixty years time. What matter if she dies sooner, rather than later?" Arwen flinched. She was unused to people speaking to her so bluntly, and it made Norelda very angry. "It matters," she snapped. "Because this child has life, even as you do, My Lord. And life is not something to be lightly thrown aside." She swung down from her horse, and half crouching, approached the little girl child, who looked faint with fear. "Come little one, I won't hurt you, it's alright. Come on, sweeting, everything's fine. Don't be afraid." she murmured. Held out her hand and brushed the girl's shoulder lightly. A murmur went up from the elves around her, almost fearful. The child, however, looked up at her, a sudden light in her eyes. The little one reached out a curious hand and touched Norelda's cheek. They both smiled, and suddenly Norelda was almost knocked backward as the little girl threw herself into her arms. She scooped up the child and turned to face those assembled. Thranduil looked thunderous, Celebrian shocked, but Arwen had a silly smile on her face, and Elrond looked pleased.
There. What did you think? Click on the button below. You know you want to. Um. Please?
They went hunting the next night. Already Arwen looked better, having had a good rest and several hearty meals. Quietly stunning in her smoky-grey gown with a divided skirt for riding, she was fending off her admirers with aplomb and diplomacy. Norelda watched, relieved beyond words that Arwen was getting back to her old self. She glanced down at what she was wearing, and laughed to herself. No wonder they were all flocking around Arwen, Norelda didn't really look like much this morning. She had taken one look at the gown (green again) laid out for her and begun rummaging through her bags for something else to wear. The thing had more lace on it than in her entire wardrobe. She finally settled on a hip length tunic and loose breeches tucked into knee-high boots. She had also discovered, in her hunt through the packs, the old knife-harness she had taken with her from Mithlond. The knives in it were still sharp, and she was surprised to find that it fit her rather well. Glancing in the mirror, she realised suddenly how much she had grown and filled out. Turning this way and that, she decided that she quite liked the shape, and hummed softly to herself as she strapped her bow and quiver on her back. The beautiful black mare she rode shifted under her, eager to get started. The party was assembling in a glade under the light of the full moon. It was strangely silent for so large a group, perhaps forty in all. Then, without preamble, King Thranduil stood up in the stirrups, lifted his arm and waved them forward. They cantered off into the woods, still in silence. Their horses hooves had been muffled and made no sound. They stole like shadows and mist through the moonlight woods, and the animals they hunted would not even be aware of them until it was too late. The Men of the region told stories of the Hunt of the Elves. It was not prudent to get in the way of the Elves, they said, for to them Men are as little as beasts, and they would kill you without a thought. It was nonsense of course, but it kept the Men out of the way. It was strange, surreal, hunting through the forest at night. No-one spoke, and all around them were the noises of the forest, faint as if heard through a screen. Norelda rode almost at the rear of the group, looking around, drinking in sights and almost-sounds of the darkness. The stars overhead blazed bright and clear, identical to the ones she had learned as a child in Mithlond. She picked out the familiar ones, marking the direction they were taking, South. She was so busy looking at the stars, that she would not have seen the child in the bushes had it not whimpered. The sound seemed to echo in the silent forest. The little girl-child was huddled at the base of a tree staring up at all these strange folk on their tall horses, eyes wide with terror. As one, the elves spun their horses, bows in hand, and took aim at the youngling. She gave a soft shriek, the sound amplified all out of proportion in the silence, and cowered back against the bole of the tree. When they saw that it was just a child, they slowly lowered their bows, unsure. Looking around Norelda could see that their faces were worried, even grim. "It's just a child," she said, her voice strangely loud in the silence. "Where's it from?" "Likely from a hunting village just west of here," replied one of the Greenwood elves, she couldn't see which in the dark. "Can't we take her back, then?" Thranduil sighed "We can't," he said, looking truly regretful. "They'll say she's been touched, or even changed. They'll just leave her out in the forest for us again." "Why would they do such a thing to one of their own children?" asked Arwen, looking really shocked. Elven children were prized beyond gold or gems, and no elf would ever think of leaving a child out in the forest to die. "Because they fear us." answered one of the sons grimly. It was her dinner partner - she still couldn't remember his name. They sat in silence for a moment more, and then Norelda asked softly, "What do we do?" "We leave her." Thranduil replied, equally softly. "There is nothing we can do. She will die. Her people will know that we have been hunting this night, and will never take her back." "You are just going to let her die?" cried Arwen, incredulous. "What else would you have us do, Lady? If she does not die this night, she will die tomorrow, or the next day, or in fifty or sixty years time. What matter if she dies sooner, rather than later?" Arwen flinched. She was unused to people speaking to her so bluntly, and it made Norelda very angry. "It matters," she snapped. "Because this child has life, even as you do, My Lord. And life is not something to be lightly thrown aside." She swung down from her horse, and half crouching, approached the little girl child, who looked faint with fear. "Come little one, I won't hurt you, it's alright. Come on, sweeting, everything's fine. Don't be afraid." she murmured. Held out her hand and brushed the girl's shoulder lightly. A murmur went up from the elves around her, almost fearful. The child, however, looked up at her, a sudden light in her eyes. The little one reached out a curious hand and touched Norelda's cheek. They both smiled, and suddenly Norelda was almost knocked backward as the little girl threw herself into her arms. She scooped up the child and turned to face those assembled. Thranduil looked thunderous, Celebrian shocked, but Arwen had a silly smile on her face, and Elrond looked pleased.
There. What did you think? Click on the button below. You know you want to. Um. Please?