Chapter 8
In the Mines, Secrets Revealed:
Kalan's Tale
"I have no memory of this place," said Gandalf, looking between the three doorways before them.
Everyone sat down, resting their legs and eating a bit of elven bread. While Frodo was up talking to Gandalf, the others said very little.
Kalan sat with Legolas, his muscles tense, and his silver eyes searched the darkness. It was plain to see that he was unnerved, but no one said anything. Kalan felt someone's/s eyes on him and he looked over to Gimli. The dwarf was glowering at him. Ever since the mountain Gimli had said very little, but had bored his eyes into Kalan's back.
Kalan sighed, knowing what the dwarf was thinking. He stood and walked over toward Gimli. The dwarf turned away, looking in the opposite direction. Kalan stopped when he was beside him, he felt the others watching. He sighed and began.
"Gimli, there is bad blood between us now and it is not helping our mission," he paused. Gimli said nothing and he continued. "I came over here to apologize for my outburst on the mountain. You are not the first to call me such and in doing so, you dredged up old, bad memories," he knelt on one knee before the dwarf. "Gimli, I am sorry, and I wish no ill upon you. Will you accept my apology?" he asked, almost pleading.
There was a few moments of silence, even Gandalf and Frodo had stopped speaking and were watching them. Gimli finally turned to face the boy. The dark look in his eyes was gone, and he smiled beneath his beard.
"Admitting one's faults," he said, "and apologizing for them is the greatest strength in any being. You are a strange one, lad, I'll admit that, but you have proven your worthiness to this Fellowship. And you have proven your strength to me," he reached out and clasped the youth's shoulder. "Your apology is accepted, not accept mine for I spoke I shock and without knowing the facts." Kalan nodded, then started to rise but Gimli restrained him. "However, I think that now you must tell us of yourself, fates or no, for there should be no secrets between friends," he added softly. Kalan tensed and opened his mouth to protest.
"I agree, Gimli," everyone turned to look at Gandalf, who was watching with interest. "Perhaps you should, Kalan," he said nodding to the boy. Kalan gave the wizard a strange look, but then his shoulders slumped and he gave a defeated sigh.
"Well, it seems that I am outnumbered, but you might not understand," he said then sat down with his back against a rock. "I am not quite sure how to start, I guess the best way would be to say it bluntly," he took a big breath, then: "I am the son of a dragon."
Silence.
"A dragon?" said Aragorn, his eyebrows raised. Kalan nodded. More silence, then:
"Well, that explains a lot," said Frodo. "The blood, no need for food or sleep, the wings. But how?" he asked. Kalan took another big breath and began, not looking at any of his listeners. His eyes staring out as if parting the mists of time.
"Just over one and a half thousand years ago, the last of the silver dragons came out of his hibernation. A near millennia had past since the Dragon's War[1] and the Dark Drakes had been gone from this world. Now, there was only one silver left, his common name was Kalith-Duren, his dragon-tongue name is to hard even for me to pronounce," a slight chuckle. "He came upon a human woman walking home from the market. She was the most beautiful mortal he had ever seen. Long ebony hair falling past her waist, dark eyes that held a light that brightened the nighttime. Her name was Aeranna, a lady of the house of Morelain.
"She was suddenly set upon my goblins, awaiting her at a bend in the road. She fought valiantly, as very few women could, but her short sword could do very little against them.
"Kalith leapt to her aid, striking the foul creatures. After the last of the goblins had fled or fell, Kalith turned to the woman. She looked upon him without fear, unlike most who had encountered his kind. She smiled, thanked him and kissed his scaled cheek. It was at this time that Kalith-Duren fell in love with a mortal woman.
"Unfortunately, he was coming to the end of his power and would diminish soon. Dragons do not age physically after they get to a certain growth and number of years. Kalith was over 300,000 years old, not the oldest to live, but close.
"Using the last of his power, he changed into a human male to be with his beloved. They made vows of love, consummated and lived together for only six months. Before the child was born, Kalith-Duren left Middle-Earth, his spirit becoming one with the heavens.
"Three months after, Aeranna gave birth, a boy child. His appearance was mostly that of a normal human babe, except until he opened his eyes. The one physical feature inherited from his father: his eyes were silver."
"It was you!" cried Pippin, excitedly. "The baby was you!" Kalan smiled and nodded. Merry shook his head, embarrassed.
"You have an amazing grasp of the obvious, Pip," he groaned. Pippin looked hurt but settled himself back, waiting for Kalan to continue.
"As Pippin just declared, yes, I was the child. The product of a love bond between dragon and human. My mother raised my as you would raise any youngster. And I was just as troublesome.
"I somehow always managed to get myself into some trouble. And when I got in over my head, she came to my rescue, helped me, scolded me and I learned from my mistakes.
"When I was old enough to understand, she told me about my father. About who and what he was. But unfortunately, we weren't the only ones who knew." Kalan's face darkened, and his eyes grew cold.
"There was a group of fanatics in the nearby village. The proclaimed that the dragons of old would return and destroy Middle-Earth. My recruited many followers. Somehow they found out about my mother and I.
"For years we were harassed, notes left at our door threatening death, rocks thrown through the windows. People screamed obscenities at us, calling my mother a whore of devils and me…a demon…" he whispered the last. Gimli frowned and rested his hand on the boy's knee, offering his sympathy, apologies and strength. Kalan paused, getting his emotions under control before continuing.
"Then they got bold. They came with clubs, torches and swords to our home, I was only fifteen them. They broke in and took my mother, I tried to fight them but I only had a small skinning knife and they were too many, just…too many," his eyes began to fade away, becoming clouded over. "And the fire, they destroyed our home, everything. I tried, but…I-I couldn't," his voice choked and he hid his face, but not before they saw a single tear fall.
This time it was Legolas who offered comfort, his eyes sad, understanding how it feels to be betrayed, for elves are not loved by all. He wrapped his arms around Kalan, sharing the youngling's grief and pain. For a few moments they sat like this, no one spoke, each with their own thoughts. Finally, Kalan got himself under control and he took a large, shuddering breath. He clasped Legolas' arm, silently thanking the elf. Legolas released him and sat beside his friend, but left one arm gently draped over Kalan's shoulders.
"I don't remember how long they held us, perhaps a few weeks. But during that time I saw nothing of my mother. They beat me daily, whipping with cords and leather, tearing my skin. With hands and boots. But they got a surprise when they touched my blood," he smiled coldly, cynically. Aragorn nodded, understanding and flexed his healing hand. "Unfortunately, it only made them madder," Kalan continued. "They hurt me everywhere, then when they got tired of beating me they…" he tensed, his gut spasmed. There was a deep pain in his silver eyes; Frodo felt that it reflected the pain in Kalan's heart. "They did things I would not say in front of you," he breathed deeply, "One day they came in and took me outside. My mother was there, tied to a stake.
"They forced me to watch as they killed her. Five arrows entered her body, but she proclaimed her love for me to the last.
"Enraged, I attacked the men and ran from the village. My wings opened for the first time then and allowed me to escape them.
"For days I wandered aimlessly, my body and mind sundered, and my heart broken, until I collapsed. Fortunately, I was found by an elf who had felt my power and came searching. This elf was Lord Elrond himself from Rivendell. He took me to the elven city and cared for me.
"He helped me mend my heart and come to terms with the pain and guilt I felt inside. I was afraid to get close to anyone, because I felt that I was the cause of my mother's death. Elrond showed me my folly, and urged me to reach out to him and to others. He loved me, was like a father, a brother a friend and…sometimes more…" there was a certain wistful and almost loving look in his eyes. He shook his head and the look was gone. "He taught me how to feel and to love again," he smiled.
"At the age of eighteen or nineteen, I came into my power and ceased to age. After seeing about eighty years and still looking my young and strong self, I met a young woman named Melaina. She too had lost her parents, to a plague not too long ago. She and I were married at Rivendell and she became pregnant with my child, my son.
"But one day, I was up north helping the elves with an orc problem. She decided to go for a ride. I had warned her never to go alone for the land was treacherous around for one who did not know the way. But she went anyway and took a horse not well broken.
"She was thrown, hit her head. Thankfully, she did not feel any pain; she died on impact and with her, my son.
"I was coming home when it happened. I felt her life presence leave my consciousness along with the tiny other. I panicked, leaving the party. I found her like that, was too shocked to even cry. I brought her body back to Rivendell, where she was given a proper funeral. I felt numb, unfeeling. I said nothing, only nodding to those who offered their sympathies. I felt alone again."
* 'I am cursed, I lose everyone I get close to, everyone I love, and who loves me.' Strong arms enfold me, dark hair a curtain to one side. A familiar, deep, melodic voice whispers in my ear.
'I am still here, Gildae. Amin mela lle, ar' amin nauva n'kelaya lle[2]' a kiss against my cheek. *
There was a long silence while Kalan faded into memory. It was Frodo who broke the silence.
"Kalan?" the boy came out of his reverie, looking at the hobbit. "That's quite a tale, and though I don't quite comprehend half of what you said, I am sorry for you," he rested a hand on Kalan's knee. "Your life, almost as long as the elves, has had very few happy moments. I can't say I know how you feel, because I don't. But I will say this, I am glad you shared this with us, for as Gimli said, there should be no secrets between friends," he smiled softly. Kalan sighed and nodded at the hobbit.
"I'm glad I did, I must say it will surely be easier on this mission not having to watch what I say or do," the others nodded.
"Well," said Gandalf, slapping his hands on his knees and rising, "Now that we have that out of our system, perhaps we should continue."
"But, Gandalf, which way?" asked Frodo, the wizard blinked, then looked back at the three doorways, and remembered their predicament. "Oh," was all he said, then made to sit back down.
Kalan stood and walked over to the arches. He sniffed, smelling the air from each one.
"That way," he said, pointing to the left passage. The others joined him at the entrance. Merry looked up at him in awe.
"How do you know?" he asked in wonder. Kalan clapped him on the shoulder, smiling.
"Dragons have very keen eyesight, smell and hearing, even more so than the elves. The air is not so foul that way, which means there is an exit somewhere down there." He grinned and winked at the hobbit. "When in doubt, always follow you nose," he said. They gathered up their belongings and made their way down into the dark.
***Very sorry for my HUGE gap in updating. School, work and home stuff all came into play and I also have NO typing skill, whatsoever!!! I thank all who have reviewed, especially Hermione Eveningfall me close friend, thanks to you and to everyone for kicking me in the arse to get back to writing. You guys are great, hope you still like the story, I'll update again soon…. hopefully ^_^ Arigato!!!!***
----------------------- [1] OK, here is the confusing part I need to explain: Dragons were once on and the same, but then some became more ambitious and cruel than the others and broke off they became the Dark Drakes, becoming black in color, leaving the silvers, the Light Dragons. There was a war between them near the beginning of Middle-Earth, and the Lights won (of course) with the help of the elves, Istari and the Valar (Silmarillion). The Darks were destroyed (except for a few who escaped, like Smaug) leaving the Lights in peace. However, they were weakened by the war and died off over the years. Kalan's dad was the last. OK go back to the story now!! ^_^
[2] I love you and I will never leave you.
In the Mines, Secrets Revealed:
Kalan's Tale
"I have no memory of this place," said Gandalf, looking between the three doorways before them.
Everyone sat down, resting their legs and eating a bit of elven bread. While Frodo was up talking to Gandalf, the others said very little.
Kalan sat with Legolas, his muscles tense, and his silver eyes searched the darkness. It was plain to see that he was unnerved, but no one said anything. Kalan felt someone's/s eyes on him and he looked over to Gimli. The dwarf was glowering at him. Ever since the mountain Gimli had said very little, but had bored his eyes into Kalan's back.
Kalan sighed, knowing what the dwarf was thinking. He stood and walked over toward Gimli. The dwarf turned away, looking in the opposite direction. Kalan stopped when he was beside him, he felt the others watching. He sighed and began.
"Gimli, there is bad blood between us now and it is not helping our mission," he paused. Gimli said nothing and he continued. "I came over here to apologize for my outburst on the mountain. You are not the first to call me such and in doing so, you dredged up old, bad memories," he knelt on one knee before the dwarf. "Gimli, I am sorry, and I wish no ill upon you. Will you accept my apology?" he asked, almost pleading.
There was a few moments of silence, even Gandalf and Frodo had stopped speaking and were watching them. Gimli finally turned to face the boy. The dark look in his eyes was gone, and he smiled beneath his beard.
"Admitting one's faults," he said, "and apologizing for them is the greatest strength in any being. You are a strange one, lad, I'll admit that, but you have proven your worthiness to this Fellowship. And you have proven your strength to me," he reached out and clasped the youth's shoulder. "Your apology is accepted, not accept mine for I spoke I shock and without knowing the facts." Kalan nodded, then started to rise but Gimli restrained him. "However, I think that now you must tell us of yourself, fates or no, for there should be no secrets between friends," he added softly. Kalan tensed and opened his mouth to protest.
"I agree, Gimli," everyone turned to look at Gandalf, who was watching with interest. "Perhaps you should, Kalan," he said nodding to the boy. Kalan gave the wizard a strange look, but then his shoulders slumped and he gave a defeated sigh.
"Well, it seems that I am outnumbered, but you might not understand," he said then sat down with his back against a rock. "I am not quite sure how to start, I guess the best way would be to say it bluntly," he took a big breath, then: "I am the son of a dragon."
Silence.
"A dragon?" said Aragorn, his eyebrows raised. Kalan nodded. More silence, then:
"Well, that explains a lot," said Frodo. "The blood, no need for food or sleep, the wings. But how?" he asked. Kalan took another big breath and began, not looking at any of his listeners. His eyes staring out as if parting the mists of time.
"Just over one and a half thousand years ago, the last of the silver dragons came out of his hibernation. A near millennia had past since the Dragon's War[1] and the Dark Drakes had been gone from this world. Now, there was only one silver left, his common name was Kalith-Duren, his dragon-tongue name is to hard even for me to pronounce," a slight chuckle. "He came upon a human woman walking home from the market. She was the most beautiful mortal he had ever seen. Long ebony hair falling past her waist, dark eyes that held a light that brightened the nighttime. Her name was Aeranna, a lady of the house of Morelain.
"She was suddenly set upon my goblins, awaiting her at a bend in the road. She fought valiantly, as very few women could, but her short sword could do very little against them.
"Kalith leapt to her aid, striking the foul creatures. After the last of the goblins had fled or fell, Kalith turned to the woman. She looked upon him without fear, unlike most who had encountered his kind. She smiled, thanked him and kissed his scaled cheek. It was at this time that Kalith-Duren fell in love with a mortal woman.
"Unfortunately, he was coming to the end of his power and would diminish soon. Dragons do not age physically after they get to a certain growth and number of years. Kalith was over 300,000 years old, not the oldest to live, but close.
"Using the last of his power, he changed into a human male to be with his beloved. They made vows of love, consummated and lived together for only six months. Before the child was born, Kalith-Duren left Middle-Earth, his spirit becoming one with the heavens.
"Three months after, Aeranna gave birth, a boy child. His appearance was mostly that of a normal human babe, except until he opened his eyes. The one physical feature inherited from his father: his eyes were silver."
"It was you!" cried Pippin, excitedly. "The baby was you!" Kalan smiled and nodded. Merry shook his head, embarrassed.
"You have an amazing grasp of the obvious, Pip," he groaned. Pippin looked hurt but settled himself back, waiting for Kalan to continue.
"As Pippin just declared, yes, I was the child. The product of a love bond between dragon and human. My mother raised my as you would raise any youngster. And I was just as troublesome.
"I somehow always managed to get myself into some trouble. And when I got in over my head, she came to my rescue, helped me, scolded me and I learned from my mistakes.
"When I was old enough to understand, she told me about my father. About who and what he was. But unfortunately, we weren't the only ones who knew." Kalan's face darkened, and his eyes grew cold.
"There was a group of fanatics in the nearby village. The proclaimed that the dragons of old would return and destroy Middle-Earth. My recruited many followers. Somehow they found out about my mother and I.
"For years we were harassed, notes left at our door threatening death, rocks thrown through the windows. People screamed obscenities at us, calling my mother a whore of devils and me…a demon…" he whispered the last. Gimli frowned and rested his hand on the boy's knee, offering his sympathy, apologies and strength. Kalan paused, getting his emotions under control before continuing.
"Then they got bold. They came with clubs, torches and swords to our home, I was only fifteen them. They broke in and took my mother, I tried to fight them but I only had a small skinning knife and they were too many, just…too many," his eyes began to fade away, becoming clouded over. "And the fire, they destroyed our home, everything. I tried, but…I-I couldn't," his voice choked and he hid his face, but not before they saw a single tear fall.
This time it was Legolas who offered comfort, his eyes sad, understanding how it feels to be betrayed, for elves are not loved by all. He wrapped his arms around Kalan, sharing the youngling's grief and pain. For a few moments they sat like this, no one spoke, each with their own thoughts. Finally, Kalan got himself under control and he took a large, shuddering breath. He clasped Legolas' arm, silently thanking the elf. Legolas released him and sat beside his friend, but left one arm gently draped over Kalan's shoulders.
"I don't remember how long they held us, perhaps a few weeks. But during that time I saw nothing of my mother. They beat me daily, whipping with cords and leather, tearing my skin. With hands and boots. But they got a surprise when they touched my blood," he smiled coldly, cynically. Aragorn nodded, understanding and flexed his healing hand. "Unfortunately, it only made them madder," Kalan continued. "They hurt me everywhere, then when they got tired of beating me they…" he tensed, his gut spasmed. There was a deep pain in his silver eyes; Frodo felt that it reflected the pain in Kalan's heart. "They did things I would not say in front of you," he breathed deeply, "One day they came in and took me outside. My mother was there, tied to a stake.
"They forced me to watch as they killed her. Five arrows entered her body, but she proclaimed her love for me to the last.
"Enraged, I attacked the men and ran from the village. My wings opened for the first time then and allowed me to escape them.
"For days I wandered aimlessly, my body and mind sundered, and my heart broken, until I collapsed. Fortunately, I was found by an elf who had felt my power and came searching. This elf was Lord Elrond himself from Rivendell. He took me to the elven city and cared for me.
"He helped me mend my heart and come to terms with the pain and guilt I felt inside. I was afraid to get close to anyone, because I felt that I was the cause of my mother's death. Elrond showed me my folly, and urged me to reach out to him and to others. He loved me, was like a father, a brother a friend and…sometimes more…" there was a certain wistful and almost loving look in his eyes. He shook his head and the look was gone. "He taught me how to feel and to love again," he smiled.
"At the age of eighteen or nineteen, I came into my power and ceased to age. After seeing about eighty years and still looking my young and strong self, I met a young woman named Melaina. She too had lost her parents, to a plague not too long ago. She and I were married at Rivendell and she became pregnant with my child, my son.
"But one day, I was up north helping the elves with an orc problem. She decided to go for a ride. I had warned her never to go alone for the land was treacherous around for one who did not know the way. But she went anyway and took a horse not well broken.
"She was thrown, hit her head. Thankfully, she did not feel any pain; she died on impact and with her, my son.
"I was coming home when it happened. I felt her life presence leave my consciousness along with the tiny other. I panicked, leaving the party. I found her like that, was too shocked to even cry. I brought her body back to Rivendell, where she was given a proper funeral. I felt numb, unfeeling. I said nothing, only nodding to those who offered their sympathies. I felt alone again."
* 'I am cursed, I lose everyone I get close to, everyone I love, and who loves me.' Strong arms enfold me, dark hair a curtain to one side. A familiar, deep, melodic voice whispers in my ear.
'I am still here, Gildae. Amin mela lle, ar' amin nauva n'kelaya lle[2]' a kiss against my cheek. *
There was a long silence while Kalan faded into memory. It was Frodo who broke the silence.
"Kalan?" the boy came out of his reverie, looking at the hobbit. "That's quite a tale, and though I don't quite comprehend half of what you said, I am sorry for you," he rested a hand on Kalan's knee. "Your life, almost as long as the elves, has had very few happy moments. I can't say I know how you feel, because I don't. But I will say this, I am glad you shared this with us, for as Gimli said, there should be no secrets between friends," he smiled softly. Kalan sighed and nodded at the hobbit.
"I'm glad I did, I must say it will surely be easier on this mission not having to watch what I say or do," the others nodded.
"Well," said Gandalf, slapping his hands on his knees and rising, "Now that we have that out of our system, perhaps we should continue."
"But, Gandalf, which way?" asked Frodo, the wizard blinked, then looked back at the three doorways, and remembered their predicament. "Oh," was all he said, then made to sit back down.
Kalan stood and walked over to the arches. He sniffed, smelling the air from each one.
"That way," he said, pointing to the left passage. The others joined him at the entrance. Merry looked up at him in awe.
"How do you know?" he asked in wonder. Kalan clapped him on the shoulder, smiling.
"Dragons have very keen eyesight, smell and hearing, even more so than the elves. The air is not so foul that way, which means there is an exit somewhere down there." He grinned and winked at the hobbit. "When in doubt, always follow you nose," he said. They gathered up their belongings and made their way down into the dark.
***Very sorry for my HUGE gap in updating. School, work and home stuff all came into play and I also have NO typing skill, whatsoever!!! I thank all who have reviewed, especially Hermione Eveningfall me close friend, thanks to you and to everyone for kicking me in the arse to get back to writing. You guys are great, hope you still like the story, I'll update again soon…. hopefully ^_^ Arigato!!!!***
----------------------- [1] OK, here is the confusing part I need to explain: Dragons were once on and the same, but then some became more ambitious and cruel than the others and broke off they became the Dark Drakes, becoming black in color, leaving the silvers, the Light Dragons. There was a war between them near the beginning of Middle-Earth, and the Lights won (of course) with the help of the elves, Istari and the Valar (Silmarillion). The Darks were destroyed (except for a few who escaped, like Smaug) leaving the Lights in peace. However, they were weakened by the war and died off over the years. Kalan's dad was the last. OK go back to the story now!! ^_^
[2] I love you and I will never leave you.