Disclaimer: If I owned lotr would I be writing about it? Here it is anyway, I don't own or have any connection with Lord of the Rings or any of its associates. All right? This hasn't been mentioned in any previous disclaimer but I own Kĩyara, two lotr jigsaws, one collectors edition dvd with bookends, two action figures, three different versions of the book, the PC game ect….
Pairings: Legolas & Kĩyara
Summary: In this chapter Celen learns of his parent's homeland and the tales that surround it.
A/N: People have commented that Kĩyara should be fair-haired because her mother was from Lothlorién. I've probably got it wrong but she's my character so the hair stay's ok?? Lol. Also I know that the hobbits should be dead by now but it's no fun without them so can we gloss over that minor detail?? Thankyou!
Sort of an A/N:
This is probably the best time to explain a bit about Érinan Lethainne. The majestic pale stoned palace was reminiscent of the stone halls of Mirkwood yet it retained the unrivalled elegance of Rivendell and Lothlorién. It was built half in half out of the ancient forest the west side was built around, and in some cases in, the towering trees while the east side faced the open grasslands which sloped inexorably down to the sandy beach and crashing sea. The sparkling blue Illenimon river wound around the palace entering the lands from the north and flowing into the sea like a translucent snake.
It was onto the wide expanse of grassland that Mother and son trotted, they broke into a canter circling the palace and pounding through the long dawn shadows it created before entering the expansive woodland. The tall golden horse slowed to a sedate walk under the embracing arms of the lofty trees.
With no command from his mistress Caradien turned his head to watch the tiny black pony catch up, the small blond haired boy atop it bouncing in time to the fast trot. Celen pulled on the reins bringing the excited Iargail to a halt, his head up and ears pricked listening to the sounds of the forest. Celen grinned upwards.
"That pony's just as cheeky as you!" Kĩyara commented.
Celen's smile broadened.
"I bet he's better than Caradien. Could beat that old horse any day!"
Caradien looked quizzically at the tiny pair and tossed his head.
Celen laughed. "I bet I bet I bet!"
"I don't think so. I've been riding a lot longer than you and Caradien's bigger." Kĩyara teased.
Celen stuck out his tongue at her and kicked Iargail's sides galloping off between the trees. Kĩyara laughed and chased after him Caradien expertly navigating the dense undergrowth. Celen caught glimpses of gold between the trees and urged Iargail on with mounting excitement.
The little pony swerved and dodged round the trunks of passing trees carrying his little master safely through low hanging branches and treacherous roots. He heard the beating of Caradien's fast hooves gaining on him and his mother burst out of the foliage to left racing alongside him on the narrow path. She grinned at him and without even trying was flying ahead, Caradien's hooves sending clods of soil flying.
The two burst out of the enclosing trees into a large clearing. There was the sharp scent of wood smoke. In the centre was a large grassy knoll with circular windows and doors, in the fenced and cultivated garden a small curly haired creature sat on a deck chair. He looked up suddenly as the two animals skidded to a halt, their riders throwing themselves to the ground.
The hobbit smiled and got to his feet to meet them. Celen threw his reins onto Iargail's neck and let him nibble the grass while he rushed full pelt to the garden gate his defeat pushed from his mind.
"Uncle Frodo!!" He yelled throwing himself into the Hobbits embrace, Kĩyara watched contentedly from Caradien's side as her son greeted her best friend.
The golden horse nickered softly in her ear and nudged her with his muzzle, smiling she left him to crop the grass with Iargail while she followed Celen into the Hobbit garden. Kneeling in the dew tipped lawn she pulled her son off Frodo.
"Don't hog him. I want a hug too!"
She laughed holding a struggling Celen. He fell still in her clutch.
"Alright then." He answered in a subdued voice. "Where's Uncle Bilbo?" He added as an after thought.
"Kitchen." Frodo replied.
Kĩyara watched her son push open the round green door and disappear into the dim light beyond before turning to the hobbit. She cast a serious eye over him.
"Hmm you'll do, come here."
Smiling she greeted him. She looked into his sky blue eyes, they held so much that it was like looking into a well of thoughts.
"You haven't visited for ages Kĩyara." Frodo reprimanded.
"Well…it's just that…I know. Sorry." She finished it was true. Frodo shook his head and laughed.
"Come on we'll see what those two have got up to. I bet its stories again, or books. Could be books." Frodo said amicably leading Kĩyara into the hobbit house.
Kĩyara ducked into the low hallway. They walked past the rows of walking sticks and cloaks into the cavernous kitchen, well cavernous for hobbits at any rate. Kĩyara loved this room, it simple and beautiful. The two large round windows looked out onto the back garden where the flowers nodded their heads in the breeze, there was the farmhouse sink and a long scrubbed oak table. There were more unusual things as well hung over the fireplace was Sting and the Mithril shirt. On a peg in the corner was the most unusual and useful cloak, it was grey or was it silver? Unless you really looked hard your mind didn't see it, it was familiar to Kĩyara Legolas had one too. It was made many years ago in the woods of Lothlorién.
Bilbo was seated in his high backed chair next to the little fire crackling in the grate. Sure enough Celen was sat cross-legged on the floor next to the chair a huge black volume open on his knees, his finger tracing the writing along the page.
Celen had a deep love of reading; he had also mastered languages at a very early age. He could speak Sindarin and the common tongue as well as read them and he was learning Quenya too. He had spoken Sindarin first as it was Legolas' native grey-elven speech, Kĩyara spoke it too even though she was a high elf, the formal Quenya was saved for ceremony and literature. Next he had picked up the Common Tongue, as it was the second most used in the palace. Neither his brother nor sister had spoken or read so well at this age. Frodo interrupted Kĩyara's thoughts.
"What did I say? I knew it would be books! Do you two want a drink of anything?"
"No I'm fine thanks. Celen. Celen!"
"Hmm?" He said looking up from his book, totally oblivious.
"Do you want a drink?"
"What? No. Thank you."
He added before burying his nose once more. Kĩyara shook her head and sat in the soft armchair on the opposite side of the fire from Bilbo.
Presently Frodo pulled up a chair form the table and sat down to listen to Celen who had begun to read out loud.
"…soon the lands were divided once more and the south fell under evil…evil…what does that say Bilbo?" Said Celen his brow furrowing in concentration.
"Influences of an unparalleled nature." Bilbo answered knowledgeably.
"Oh." Said Celen then carried on.
Kĩyara wasn't really listening now, she was thinking of the impending visit of the Icenne Lord, Lord Macsen de Avnell. Though the two tribes mostly occupied themselves by fighting each other, occasionally they imposed themselves on the elven kingdoms to seek alliances and trading. Though they always asked they continually left empty handed and bemused at their sudden acceptance of all excuses.
Kĩyara grinned wickedly, humans were so gullible. She loathed the Icenne king he had only visited once before but she hated him on sight. Something began to prick at the back of Kĩyara's mind, something she couldn't quite place. Frowning Kĩyara listened once more to Celen. Suddenly it dawned on her, for the past hour she had sat while Celen was reading but she hadn't taken notice of what. Now she realised.
"…the Ring was found by a creature called Sméagol…" She gripped the chair.
She and Legolas hadn't told Celen anything about their past, they had thought he was too young to understand the true meaning of it. When they told him they had wanted it to be more than a story, but here he was reading it out loud to the world. She swallowed her mouth was dry. She looked at Frodo imploringly; he shook his head and motioned for her to follow him. Quietly without Celen noticing she got to her feet and sidled out of the room. Kĩyara stooped in the hallway looking down on Frodo.
"He isn't supposed to know yet!" She whispered urgently.
"Look he chose the book himself."
"He shouldn't have to know about all that pain and suffering, not at his age. Not ever."
"You weren't going to tell him?"
"Yes…but…"
"You weren't going to tell it word for word?" Frodo finished for her.
"I just don't want him to go through what we all went through in Middle Earth, not even in words. I love him so much, I just want to protect him…"
She fell to her knees and let Frodo put his arms round her.
Kĩyara pulled herself together and leaned back on her heels.
"Sorry Frodo, it's not your fault. I suppose I can't make him un-read it. Might as well let him finish. I just wish he'd been a bit older, able to understand better."
"You know I think he'll understand perfectly. He's special, even you secretly think it, I can tell. He's got that extra something that makes him seem a lot older than he really is. We both know that Fiarén and Áruinne were never really interested, but Celen is just so…enthusiastic. About everything." Frodo elaborated.
Kĩyara smiled, to hear him say those words made her so happy, she was proud of her son.
"Thank you Frodo." She whispered.
"You know Kĩyara I think your getting more submissive. If I'd said that before you had children you'd have bitten my head off." Frodo teased her.
She laughed; they both knew it was a jest. The flame of rebellion and passion that drove her was still burning as strong as ever, she just knew how to control it better now. They re-entered the kitchen, however Kĩyara didn't sit down. She stretched and yawned, promptly hitting her head on the roof.
"Ouch" She complained giving the wood an icy stare. Celen giggled.
"Just wait till you grow up, then you can hit your head as well." Kĩyara cautioned. "Come on we'd better be going, otherwise your father'll complain I'm never there." Celen hugged the book tightly.
"I don't want to. Can I stay please? Please?" He turned round pleading eyes on her.
"That doesn't work on me Celen, come on. It's half an hour back to the palace and it's already past lunch."
"But I want to read my book, please I want to stay!"
"No! Come on." Celen saw how futile his attempts were and gave up. He stood still holding the book.
"Can I borrow this please Uncle Bilbo?" He asked timidly.
"Of course, I'm glad to have some one who takes an interest in an old Hobbit's tales. Frodo doesn't listen anymore." He said conspiratorially. Kĩyara smiled,
"Come on then, I wouldn't subject you to these poor hobbits any longer. Up you get."
Slowly Celen followed her down the hallway and out into the gentle afternoon light that filtered through the mallorn trees. The hobbits stood at their gate watching their visitors preparing to depart. Kĩyara helped her son scramble up onto Iargail's back, the book fastened firmly to the back of his saddle. Kĩyara threw herself up onto Caradien.
"Goodbye Bilbo, goodbye Frodo!" Mother and son yelled in unison as they set off at a gallop back through the forest. Frodo smiled and shook his head.
"She's always going to be the same. You can force a child into an adult but you can never truly take the child out of the adult."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The arrow arced through the air and landed with a thud in the centre of the target. It stood quivering for a second before it finally decided to stay firmly embedded in the straw. Fiarén breathed out and looked round at his father and sister.
"Beat that Ári!" He said smugly in elvish.
Áruinne was drawing patterns in the dirt with her foot she looked up as he spoke. She glanced towards the target and saw the perfect hit. She threw him a 'smart-arse' look as she walked up to the line. Her bow wasn't as big or as heavy as her father or brother's but it was still well made.
Carefully she selected an arrow and fitted it to the bow with the air and confidence of a master archer. She drew back the bowstring as far as her strength would let her and looked down the shaft of the arrow. The deadly tip was pointed straight at her brother's arrow. If there was one thing that could put a girl off target was the watchful and expectant stare of her brother and father, putting them from her mind she let the arrow go.
As her fingers slipped from the bowstring she felt the tug of the breeze at her hair and cloak and cursed as she watched the arrow shoot through the air, totally off course. It landed on the outer edge of the target. She shook her head and turned back to the snide comments of her brother but he didn't say anything. He was staring apparently very interested in the sky. She stood next to him.
"What are we looking for?" She said following his gaze.
"Oh have you been?" He said faking ignorance. "Maybe next time sister."
He added sarcastically looking at the target.
"Shut up it was the wind."
"Yes, right. I believe you." He nodded. She stuck her tongue out at him.
"I wouldn't look so complacent if I were you." Legolas interrupted.
"Why? My arrow's right in the centre you can't get any closer than that." Fiarén added boldly.
Legolas just half smiled at him and turned to face the target. He nonchalantly fitted an arrow and drew back the bowstring. Then he let it go. The arrow was a blur, too quick to follow even with elven eyes. There was the sound of wood splintering and then the smack of the arrow hitting. Fiarén gaped at the target, his arrow was split in two the shards wavering in the breeze before falling to the floor. Áruinne laughed.