Title:
The Last Daughter of the Noldor
Disclaimer:
Despite what Jesse says in this story, I do not have any contacts with Christopher Tolkien, and J.R.R. Tolkien did not write this story. All recognizable characters are Tolkien's and I do not own them. I am not making money off this. This story was written purely for enjoyment only. I do not claim that Legolas, Fingolfin, Finarfin, or any other names or places invented by Tolkien are mine.
Series:
None
Spoilers:
A few minor ones for The Silmarillion
Feedback: LadyoftheRings35@hotmail.com
Summary:
Fëanor was the greatest of the Noldorin elves that had ever lived. He had seven sons who went with him to Middle-Earth to reclaim the Silmarils from Morgoth, a fallen Vala. The Noldor declared war on Morgoth, and in the end, he was driven from Middle-Earth and locked away with the aid of the Valar—now his only daughter, some thousands of years later, must help save Middle-Earth from Morgoth's return.
A/N: Thanks for the encouraging reviews! Aria: How do I put the story in the Silmarillion archive? I didn't even know there was an archive…oh well. As for breakages of cannon…*sheepish grin* Truth be told, I haven't actually read The Silmarillion or the History of Middle Earth in FAR too long—about two years. I'm rereading the Silmarillion currently, but I've only just gotten to the eleventh chapter, so I have a ways to go. Please forgive me if I make a stupid mistake somewhere in here…and you're right about the elfling thing, I'll go change that. As for Mandos, I completely forgot about him wandering the shores…its definitely an idea. Thanks for all the great feedback you guys!
"….and here in Rivendell there live still some of his chief foes: the Elven-wise, lords of the Eldar from beyond the furthest seas. They do not fear the Ringwraiths, for those who have dwelt in the Blessed Realm live at once in both worlds, and against both the Seen and the Unseen they have great power."
"I thought that I saw a white figure that shone and did not grow dim like the others. Was that Glorfindel then?"
"Yes, you saw him for a moment as he is upon the other side: one of the mighty of the Firstborn. He is an Elf-lord of a house of princes."
-The Fellowship of the Rings, Many Meetings
Chapter Five
Bandits!
Legolas slipped his quiver over his head and slid two knives into the sheath on his back. Náriel watched him out of the corner of her eye as she choose a short glaive, a weapon* similar to that used in the Second Age during the battle of the Last Alliance. She tested its weight, and then sprang up the steps to the top deck. Already fires were breaking out in the village and people were screaming. The men were trying to hold the bandits, but the bandits were on horseback and easily trampled their defenses, setting fires to crops and houses.
"Cast off!" Náriel yelled over the clamor. "Don't let us get caught in the cross-fire! Cast off, keep the sails safe!"
Ten out of the fifteen elves, Náriel included, jumped to the docks and cut the ropes holding the ship secure. The remaining five elves pushed the boat into open water, and out of bow range. Or at least, out of human bow range. Elven bows could reach much further because of the substances they are made from. Two elves held the boat steady while the remaining three, Rillîn, Cúron and Ninglor shot at the scrambling bandits who suddenly realized that they were not alone.
On shore, Náriel and Legolas were trying to round up the remaining men to marshal an attack. One bandit charged Náriel, a blood stained scimitar in one hand, going for a head swipe.
Náriel waited until his steed was close enough to hear her easily before crying, "Throw him and flee, my friend!" in Quenya.
The horse reacted instantly, slamming to a stop and throwing the rider with a quick buck. The mare then trotted off, reins dangling.
The bandit never had a chance to get up; Legolas' arrow took him through the throat.
"I could have handled him!" Náriel protested, but Legolas was busy fending off another bandit.
Náriel charged a group of bandits who were trying to drag three young women from their houses. One sweep of her glaive cut the first bandit cleanly in half. The other two bandits lunged in with swords ready. Náriel ducked the first swipe, kicked the man in the throat, rolled to one side, and drove the curved sword up into the second bandit's back and through his lung. She jerked the blade free and turned to block a blow from a fourth man. He held an axe in his hands.
"I hate axes," Náriel muttered and danced out of range as the man charged. She raised her voice to be heard over the shouting and clanging of metal. "Let us end this, Legolas!"
Legolas paused long enough to give her a nod, and then passed the command down the line to the other elves. It was time to end the battle before one of her people got hurt.
As the axe man again took a s wipe at her, Náriel sidestepped and then began to shine white. She had veiled herself to as not to alarm the humans, as had all the other elves; but now it was time to show these bandits that it was not wise to attack a village where the High Elves were staying.
The man staggered back, crying out as he was blinded, trying to shield his face with his hands. The light from the ten elves filled the village, and the bandits stumbled over each other to get out of there, screaming like mad men. Once the bandits were on the run, the elves once again shielded themselves and charged the remaining few. Arrows from their ship took care of the fleeing men.
None escaped alive.
* * * *
Niphredil had received a small head wound from an arrow graze, but the rest of the elves were unharmed. The village, on the other hand, had suffered major damage. Once the bandits were down, Náriel rounded up the surviving villagers and got them putting out fires before it spread to the surrounding buildings.
Three people were lost in the fires, sixteen to the bandits. Six of the lost were children. Four buildings were partially destroyed and another two burnt to the ground. The cattle and sheep were broken out of their pens and roaming the hills now, terrified of the fire.
"We've lost everything," Robin whispered when Náriel found him half-crushed under two dead bandits. "Oh, my lady…"
"Lord Robin Goodfellow, you have lost many things, but not everything," Náriel said, softening her voice as she heaved the carcasses off him. "Your horses and sheep and cattle can be rounded up. Your homes can be rebuilt and fields re-sown. Your people have lost lives yes, and it was a sorrowful day. But everything? Nay, you have not lost everything." She lifted him into her arms as though he was a child and carried her to where Cenendril, Bregolas and Feredir were setting up a makeshift hospital.
"Call in the ship," Legolas ordered wearily. "We will need the medical supplies."
Bregolas nodded, took a horn from his belt and let out two clear blasts. There was an answer horn call from the ship, and then Lalaith and Gilwen, the youngest of the crew, pulled the ship around and headed back for the wharf.
Náriel was kneeling by a wounded woman, checking to see how severe the burns she had received on her face and chest were when Legolas touched her shoulder. She glanced at him. "Legolas?"
He was covered with soot from battling the fires, and he looked rather frightening with his dark blue eyes and blond hair speckled with black. "My Lady, Ninglor and I wish to go out and help the villagers round up their flocks."
"That is fine, Legolas."
"That was not my question."
Náriel sat back on her heels and looked at him. "What is it, meldir?"
Legolas motioned with his head and Náriel stood, following him out of hearing range. "We should send out scouts, to see if we can locate any of our kin in this area."
"Legolas, I think we should stay here and help the humans."
"My Lady, all respect but you have never lived in Middle-Earth. I have. We must find out if there are any elves around this area. It is imperative to finding out if Morgoth has returned."
Náriel's face tightened in anger. "You still do not believe that he has come back?"
"I merely wish to confirm your beliefs as fact. Is that too much to ask?"
Náriel meant to turn away but Legolas caught her shoulder. "Náriel, listen to me. We are in danger her. We have only one way of escape; the ship. If that is burned or sabotaged we are stuck here. You must listen to me. Until we reach the elves we are in grave danger, and especially now. No doubt if Morgoth has returned, he will have spies everywhere. No doubt, he knows of our return. We must get undercover and disappear for a while, until we can organize the resistance. Lady, please. You must listen to me."
Náriel sighed. "As you wish, Legolas," she said. "Send out the scouts. But Legolas," she added. "I am not going to leave these people until they are on the road to recovery."
Legolas' face said he clearly did not agree with the delay, but he bowed anyway and turned to aid a child whose hand was badly burned.
Náriel watched silently as he walked away, and knew with the bitterness of foresight that this would not be the first time they disagreed.
*?*?*?*?*?*?*?*?*?*?*?*?*?*?*?*?*?*?*?*?*?*
*Remember in The Two Towers before the wall is breached and the elves are standing on the walls and shooting at the orcs, and Aragorn yells "SWORDS!" or something like that and all the elves draw swords that look remarkably like the ones used in the Battle of the Last Alliance, except the blades are shorter? The shorter type is what Náriel is using.