Disclaimer: Own - nadda. Get - zipp.
Broken Mirror
By Nezumi
Chapter Two: Amber's Demand
The elf's eyes closed again and uncharacteristically Haldir knelt beside her. Rarely did Haldir comfort the wounded and when he did it had always been his own soldiers. Orophin and Rumil looked at each other, while he propped her up slightly. This was quite an odd situation already, because she smelled repulsive but even the stern Rumil could not help but think there was great beauty under her tortured skin.
Her eyes opened completely and widened in puzzlement.
"Yup she's an elf alright," Orophin commented to his brothers with a roll of the eye in Sindarian.
"Of course I'm an elf!" she snapped in the exact same tongue. It was rough, like it had not been used in such a beautiful way in a very extended period of time.
"How did you get up here?" Haldir demanded.
"I climbed. How else?" she responded, trying to sit herself upright, failing as she held her side.
Rumil folded his arms, "Why? How?"
"Because I saw it," she responded then looked them up and down. Her eyes were processing and remembering it was easy to read on any elf that had not traveled for so long. Rumil did not demand further, as Haldir turned around with a look that wondered why not. Truthfully, Rumil could not shake the familiarity of the young elf. She was a little younger than Haldir he supposed, but then again just about anyone was young to Rumil. He had been born when Galadriel and Celeborn came to rally those remaining in Lothlorien during the Second Age. He had seen Lothlorien rise.
Orophin still looked about ready to let his lunch come back up, though his color was slowly returning. "There's Astladan with the horses," he commented. "We'd better clean you up a small bit otherwise the Amandili will have our heads promptly."
Haldir turned to glare at his brother. Had he lost all his senses? The Galadhrim had their secrets, and they took pride in their mysteriousness. The people of Lothlorien and their Lady did not simply let any stranger who happened to wander onto their land into their homes, wounded or not. What of the Dwarf and Orc Wars? Did he not remember his own tales? No matter if a dwarf or dwarf-friend was wounded, they would always turn them out of the safety of the wood. Lothlorien was a haven only to those whom they allowed to pass the border. This battered elf was considered an outsider until task proven."We cannot let her pass without-"
She held her side, and in one giant movement sat up. All three brothers of the Gweth Gilith, personal guards to the Lady herself stared at her. Her eyes undaunted by the prospect of death, and what was it to her? They supposed by the way she pulled herself to her feet that she had some form of in-human and un-elvish tolerance for pain and it was not dwindled as she held herself up by pillars erected in the telain. She informed them, mainly Haldir, with a voice worthy of a queen, "I want to see Galadriel."
So Haldir began to answer, his traditional answer. He hesitated only a brief moment - her demand had been so personal, like it was him requesting entrance into his own residence. "The Lady of the Wood-"
Who calls my name? Galadriel asked Haldir. Bring her to me. It is at this time none of your concern Haldir why I would request a stranger to me. So you shall have patience and in good time be told.
.*.
Astladan, the only Kelvaser that Haldir's personal regiment had yet to acquire looked up at the three brothers of the Gweth Gilith-- a sect he could only dream of ascending to. They spoke to a wounded female, in what was obviously a tense conversation. It was not Astladan's disposition to pry, he stuck to his own business respectively because he often was not curious like many other eager young elven men. However, she stated so clearly the name of the Lady of the Golden Wood he could not help but hear. Galadriel. He could not even dream of uttering it under his breath! No one called Galadriel by her first name besides the occasional question from Elrond and Celeborn. What on Earth possessed this outsider? It was a beautiful name for a beautiful ruler, he almost wished it was said more.
Not wishing to anger Rumil, who had been hot-tempered of late, Astladan gave the horses the command to remain at the base of the telain. It was more of a request, considering he was an "animal friend" as his job was appropriately labeled by the elven community. So the Lady had permissed her entrance? Was it not a strange day in Lothlorien indeed....
As he rode away their voices still filtered through the trees in stray strands. Above all, as usual, was Haldir's voice that had been preened into superiority, by conversing with Lord of Lothlorien so frequently as a simple comrade. "What is your name?"
"Astladan!" Orophin fell into pace behind the pony. "Astladan! Stop!" It was an excuse to get away from the woman's state of degeneration. Rumil had escaped with the excuse to get more water. Was it only Haldir who could stand the sight - and smell - of her? But everyone could hear clear as the water Galadriel's mirror the words spoken in their conversation, which sounded more like a confrontation for the first few minutes.
"I'm not that bad," the amber eyed elf snapped at him.
Haldir crossed his arms and did not say anything for a few moments. Elves could take their time replying to things he supposed, so old that it didn't really matter-- you could take 3 years in a response and it wouldn't matter that much. Well, maybe a little. It then crossed his mind that they had not yet learned her name, which was a customary precaution for all patrol Galadhrim patrols. "What is your name?"
"I... um..." she looked down at the floor, pulling files upon files. "What is my name...? Uh..."
"What do they call you?" he rolled his eyes. How could one not remember their own name? Was it really that hard? She hadn't had a stuttering problem or slow of quip before this.
To this question she replied easily, "Skairukh."
"Skairukh?" he asked incredulously. "What kind of name is that for an elf?"
"Its not."
He rolled his eyes. Was this Skairukh not impossible? She couldn't answer any question straight it seemed! There was always a twist and turn but never a definitive answer. "Then where'd you get it?"
She set her jaw, "I don't remember what my own kind called me. I know Galadriel will you."
"You speak like you know her personally."
"Maybe I do!" she sneered. What did this idiot know about her past? Did he think he knew more than she did? And what made him think he could cut her down with all these trite but degrading remarks? There was nothing that could touch her after the pain she had suffered for the last thousand years of her life. Was he always this dispersonal? And dispassionate?
"Where did you get that ugly name then?"
Her eyes narrowed, with a hiss she informed him, "Yrch."
.-*-.
A.N. Astladan is a name that I made from the root of 'brave'. Kelvaser mean 'animal friend / trainer'. Next chapter: Oh... you'll just hafta wait. ^.^ Reviews please!
Broken Mirror
By Nezumi
Chapter Two: Amber's Demand
The elf's eyes closed again and uncharacteristically Haldir knelt beside her. Rarely did Haldir comfort the wounded and when he did it had always been his own soldiers. Orophin and Rumil looked at each other, while he propped her up slightly. This was quite an odd situation already, because she smelled repulsive but even the stern Rumil could not help but think there was great beauty under her tortured skin.
Her eyes opened completely and widened in puzzlement.
"Yup she's an elf alright," Orophin commented to his brothers with a roll of the eye in Sindarian.
"Of course I'm an elf!" she snapped in the exact same tongue. It was rough, like it had not been used in such a beautiful way in a very extended period of time.
"How did you get up here?" Haldir demanded.
"I climbed. How else?" she responded, trying to sit herself upright, failing as she held her side.
Rumil folded his arms, "Why? How?"
"Because I saw it," she responded then looked them up and down. Her eyes were processing and remembering it was easy to read on any elf that had not traveled for so long. Rumil did not demand further, as Haldir turned around with a look that wondered why not. Truthfully, Rumil could not shake the familiarity of the young elf. She was a little younger than Haldir he supposed, but then again just about anyone was young to Rumil. He had been born when Galadriel and Celeborn came to rally those remaining in Lothlorien during the Second Age. He had seen Lothlorien rise.
Orophin still looked about ready to let his lunch come back up, though his color was slowly returning. "There's Astladan with the horses," he commented. "We'd better clean you up a small bit otherwise the Amandili will have our heads promptly."
Haldir turned to glare at his brother. Had he lost all his senses? The Galadhrim had their secrets, and they took pride in their mysteriousness. The people of Lothlorien and their Lady did not simply let any stranger who happened to wander onto their land into their homes, wounded or not. What of the Dwarf and Orc Wars? Did he not remember his own tales? No matter if a dwarf or dwarf-friend was wounded, they would always turn them out of the safety of the wood. Lothlorien was a haven only to those whom they allowed to pass the border. This battered elf was considered an outsider until task proven."We cannot let her pass without-"
She held her side, and in one giant movement sat up. All three brothers of the Gweth Gilith, personal guards to the Lady herself stared at her. Her eyes undaunted by the prospect of death, and what was it to her? They supposed by the way she pulled herself to her feet that she had some form of in-human and un-elvish tolerance for pain and it was not dwindled as she held herself up by pillars erected in the telain. She informed them, mainly Haldir, with a voice worthy of a queen, "I want to see Galadriel."
So Haldir began to answer, his traditional answer. He hesitated only a brief moment - her demand had been so personal, like it was him requesting entrance into his own residence. "The Lady of the Wood-"
Who calls my name? Galadriel asked Haldir. Bring her to me. It is at this time none of your concern Haldir why I would request a stranger to me. So you shall have patience and in good time be told.
.*.
Astladan, the only Kelvaser that Haldir's personal regiment had yet to acquire looked up at the three brothers of the Gweth Gilith-- a sect he could only dream of ascending to. They spoke to a wounded female, in what was obviously a tense conversation. It was not Astladan's disposition to pry, he stuck to his own business respectively because he often was not curious like many other eager young elven men. However, she stated so clearly the name of the Lady of the Golden Wood he could not help but hear. Galadriel. He could not even dream of uttering it under his breath! No one called Galadriel by her first name besides the occasional question from Elrond and Celeborn. What on Earth possessed this outsider? It was a beautiful name for a beautiful ruler, he almost wished it was said more.
Not wishing to anger Rumil, who had been hot-tempered of late, Astladan gave the horses the command to remain at the base of the telain. It was more of a request, considering he was an "animal friend" as his job was appropriately labeled by the elven community. So the Lady had permissed her entrance? Was it not a strange day in Lothlorien indeed....
As he rode away their voices still filtered through the trees in stray strands. Above all, as usual, was Haldir's voice that had been preened into superiority, by conversing with Lord of Lothlorien so frequently as a simple comrade. "What is your name?"
"Astladan!" Orophin fell into pace behind the pony. "Astladan! Stop!" It was an excuse to get away from the woman's state of degeneration. Rumil had escaped with the excuse to get more water. Was it only Haldir who could stand the sight - and smell - of her? But everyone could hear clear as the water Galadriel's mirror the words spoken in their conversation, which sounded more like a confrontation for the first few minutes.
"I'm not that bad," the amber eyed elf snapped at him.
Haldir crossed his arms and did not say anything for a few moments. Elves could take their time replying to things he supposed, so old that it didn't really matter-- you could take 3 years in a response and it wouldn't matter that much. Well, maybe a little. It then crossed his mind that they had not yet learned her name, which was a customary precaution for all patrol Galadhrim patrols. "What is your name?"
"I... um..." she looked down at the floor, pulling files upon files. "What is my name...? Uh..."
"What do they call you?" he rolled his eyes. How could one not remember their own name? Was it really that hard? She hadn't had a stuttering problem or slow of quip before this.
To this question she replied easily, "Skairukh."
"Skairukh?" he asked incredulously. "What kind of name is that for an elf?"
"Its not."
He rolled his eyes. Was this Skairukh not impossible? She couldn't answer any question straight it seemed! There was always a twist and turn but never a definitive answer. "Then where'd you get it?"
She set her jaw, "I don't remember what my own kind called me. I know Galadriel will you."
"You speak like you know her personally."
"Maybe I do!" she sneered. What did this idiot know about her past? Did he think he knew more than she did? And what made him think he could cut her down with all these trite but degrading remarks? There was nothing that could touch her after the pain she had suffered for the last thousand years of her life. Was he always this dispersonal? And dispassionate?
"Where did you get that ugly name then?"
Her eyes narrowed, with a hiss she informed him, "Yrch."
.-*-.
A.N. Astladan is a name that I made from the root of 'brave'. Kelvaser mean 'animal friend / trainer'. Next chapter: Oh... you'll just hafta wait. ^.^ Reviews please!