In Her Youth
Echo the Nymph
Disclaimer: I don't own Tolkien's characters.
Years had passed,
And taken the elf-friend to Mandos.
Yet hope there still was.
Hope that ran from the forests of Harlindon
To the north and west,
To elf-lands and an elven-home.
Chapter 1
Lord Elrond sat quietly, remembering the elf-friends of the past. It had been many years since the last one of centaurs had gone to the Halls of Mandos. He sorely missed Prairie Song and Sacred Smoke, yet knew from deep within that more would come of their people. Then a young voice reached his ears; a voice that was singing.
"In their company was a Dunedain..."
The elf-lord started. It was the Song of the Ring! Sacred Smoke Tinuviel hadn't taught it to any but him. Could this be a member of her family; as she had foreseen? He rose to his feet, brushing a leaf off of his shirt. The vibrant green of the trees was ignored as he followed the voice.
"His life they saved by the skill of an elven-lord.
The story of the Ring told. A dwarf attempted
To destroy..."
Elrond slid on pale moss, yet managed to keep himself upright. Subconsciously, he brushed back a lock of his brown hair, wishing that he had worn his headpiece. The trail was steadily getting rougher as he continued yet giving up wasn't an option.
"Lothlorien became their refuge for a time,
When the Lady of Light bid them farewell,
Water bore them away..."
He slid on loose gravel and fell. The elf got to his feet, ignoring his bruised pride. The singer wasn't any nearer yet and it didn't help the path he was on either.
"The darkness, still it lingered,
Held by Dark Huntresses.
By such power, the One re-forged..."
The elf lord struggled on like a man enchanted. It had been so long since he'd heard a huntress sing. She wasn't on the level of Prairie Song or Sacred Smoke, but was talented enough to be a healer.
"...but only eight of nine alive.
The gem shone upon their journey to the `Dell,
There friends of her mother were met.
A green fire-flyer always at her side..."
Finally, the path leveled out, allowing him a descent stride. She was much closer now, and he was approaching a clearing. The thinning trees were enough to tell him that. At last, he halted on the clearing's edge. The sight that met his eyes made him stop and stare in wonder.
Her graceful Arabic build perfectly hid the strength he knew lay within her. The light of the sun danced off her red bay coat, revealing legs as red as the rest of her save one. It was white. She bore a semi-leopard pattern that was beautiful in its simplicity. Bright blue eyes were not focused on him, yet stared off into the distance as she frisked about. The style of her shirt gave away the fact that she was a princess of her people.
Leather hide, cured dark with a v-shaped hemline on both the lower and upper areas. As the shirt was short, a custom in the warmer months, her well-toned abdomen showed easily.
"Huntresses rallied, the races before them
Called again to the Crystalline Fields.
Many long battles they fought
Against the forces of Mordor.
At last, they the final blow struck,
The One Ring cast back into the fire,
Balance restored."
Lijanora Tara stopped gracefully, her raven black tail plumed, held in the slight breeze that blew. Her eyes widened when she noticed the elf. His regal bearing caused her to ignore the dirty, rumpled clothes he wore. Brown hair fell over his shoulders, yet the sides were pulled back. His gray eyes met her blue ones easily, yet in them she saw the wisdom of many Ages.
Lord Elrond realized that he should say something, or she would most likely run off. "Sina dosena. E'ra Lord Elrond. Nanar siy sonyar nuella?" The language flowed easily from his mouth, as he hadn't forgotten a single word of it, even after years of not being able to use it in conversation.
She blinked, surprised. Few elves knew the tongue of her people, and those that did were of the line of Earendil. This elf lord was a friend to her ancestresses. "Corta anyo, Lord Elrond." The huntress bowed politely. "Mi nuella siy Lijanora Tara. E'ra sho merama ali Keroh Thunderbird." Her voice was soft, musical. It nearly brought a smile to his face. That voice seemed to have come from across the seas, blessed by the Lord of the Waters.
Then, he voiced the question on his mind. "Di sonya tia ablea?"
"Siya. Di sonya mira le?" She queried. Slowly, she closed the distance between them so that they could speak to eachother more comfortably. Indeed, this was the elf-lord that had been the friend of her family in the Second and early in the Third Ages. There was nothing to fear from him.
Echo the Nymph
Disclaimer: I don't own Tolkien's characters.
Years had passed,
And taken the elf-friend to Mandos.
Yet hope there still was.
Hope that ran from the forests of Harlindon
To the north and west,
To elf-lands and an elven-home.
Chapter 1
Lord Elrond sat quietly, remembering the elf-friends of the past. It had been many years since the last one of centaurs had gone to the Halls of Mandos. He sorely missed Prairie Song and Sacred Smoke, yet knew from deep within that more would come of their people. Then a young voice reached his ears; a voice that was singing.
"In their company was a Dunedain..."
The elf-lord started. It was the Song of the Ring! Sacred Smoke Tinuviel hadn't taught it to any but him. Could this be a member of her family; as she had foreseen? He rose to his feet, brushing a leaf off of his shirt. The vibrant green of the trees was ignored as he followed the voice.
"His life they saved by the skill of an elven-lord.
The story of the Ring told. A dwarf attempted
To destroy..."
Elrond slid on pale moss, yet managed to keep himself upright. Subconsciously, he brushed back a lock of his brown hair, wishing that he had worn his headpiece. The trail was steadily getting rougher as he continued yet giving up wasn't an option.
"Lothlorien became their refuge for a time,
When the Lady of Light bid them farewell,
Water bore them away..."
He slid on loose gravel and fell. The elf got to his feet, ignoring his bruised pride. The singer wasn't any nearer yet and it didn't help the path he was on either.
"The darkness, still it lingered,
Held by Dark Huntresses.
By such power, the One re-forged..."
The elf lord struggled on like a man enchanted. It had been so long since he'd heard a huntress sing. She wasn't on the level of Prairie Song or Sacred Smoke, but was talented enough to be a healer.
"...but only eight of nine alive.
The gem shone upon their journey to the `Dell,
There friends of her mother were met.
A green fire-flyer always at her side..."
Finally, the path leveled out, allowing him a descent stride. She was much closer now, and he was approaching a clearing. The thinning trees were enough to tell him that. At last, he halted on the clearing's edge. The sight that met his eyes made him stop and stare in wonder.
Her graceful Arabic build perfectly hid the strength he knew lay within her. The light of the sun danced off her red bay coat, revealing legs as red as the rest of her save one. It was white. She bore a semi-leopard pattern that was beautiful in its simplicity. Bright blue eyes were not focused on him, yet stared off into the distance as she frisked about. The style of her shirt gave away the fact that she was a princess of her people.
Leather hide, cured dark with a v-shaped hemline on both the lower and upper areas. As the shirt was short, a custom in the warmer months, her well-toned abdomen showed easily.
"Huntresses rallied, the races before them
Called again to the Crystalline Fields.
Many long battles they fought
Against the forces of Mordor.
At last, they the final blow struck,
The One Ring cast back into the fire,
Balance restored."
Lijanora Tara stopped gracefully, her raven black tail plumed, held in the slight breeze that blew. Her eyes widened when she noticed the elf. His regal bearing caused her to ignore the dirty, rumpled clothes he wore. Brown hair fell over his shoulders, yet the sides were pulled back. His gray eyes met her blue ones easily, yet in them she saw the wisdom of many Ages.
Lord Elrond realized that he should say something, or she would most likely run off. "Sina dosena. E'ra Lord Elrond. Nanar siy sonyar nuella?" The language flowed easily from his mouth, as he hadn't forgotten a single word of it, even after years of not being able to use it in conversation.
She blinked, surprised. Few elves knew the tongue of her people, and those that did were of the line of Earendil. This elf lord was a friend to her ancestresses. "Corta anyo, Lord Elrond." The huntress bowed politely. "Mi nuella siy Lijanora Tara. E'ra sho merama ali Keroh Thunderbird." Her voice was soft, musical. It nearly brought a smile to his face. That voice seemed to have come from across the seas, blessed by the Lord of the Waters.
Then, he voiced the question on his mind. "Di sonya tia ablea?"
"Siya. Di sonya mira le?" She queried. Slowly, she closed the distance between them so that they could speak to eachother more comfortably. Indeed, this was the elf-lord that had been the friend of her family in the Second and early in the Third Ages. There was nothing to fear from him.