In Her Youth
Echo the Nymph
Disclaimer: I don't own Tolkien's characters
The seasons cycled thrice more
Before her third year,
They went north.
Changes had come to
The little Gem
And she had grown to
An adorable filly
With an incredible destiny....
Chapter 5
Lightning Bird stood upright after she finished with her pack. "Tinuviel, come here!" Her call prompted her daughter to leave off her catlike frolicking and she trotted over. Her gold-and-white coat shone under the sunlight, the shade having deepened over the seasons. The pattern she bore had also changed, becoming more like ivy leaves in golden light. Her eyes were as blue as sapphires, having not faded since her birth.
"Nanar, Mama?" The filly's voice was light and sweet, reminiscent of song.
Her parents smiled gently. She was always eager to accompany them on their trips and now they could take her.
"We are going north. There are some friends of ours we would like you to meet." Lightning Bird gently untangled her daughter's hair before braiding it once more. Happily, the filly accepted the pack her father handed to her. Phoenix wearied of the village. Her dreams whispered of a beautiful place, where plants grew in strength and green beauty. A place of peace and elven song.
The little Princess slipped her hand into her mother's as they left at an easy trot. Root-ribbed paths and dappled sunlight did not hinder them as they knew the forest as their own. Cautiously, the small group emerged from their shadowy haven.
A small gasp of delight came from Phoenix. Soft spring green grasses were only beginning to deepen to their summer hue. Rolling hills spread as far as the eye could see. The topaz blue sky stretched above them, littered with cottony-white clouds. "So beautiful, Mama!" Her young voice was hushed in awe. Never before had she seen the grasslands of Eriador as she did now.
"Yes, little Tinuviel. Beautiful indeed, and very different from Harlindon." Lightning Bird glanced at her mate who then drew out a well-made stone knife. He tied the belt that held it around his daughter's waist. She blinked at him with confusion, then smiled.
The adults struck up a ground eating trot over the rolling hills, their daughter taking three little strides to their one. Phoenix frisked about them like a kitten, singing the Sindaran children's songs she'd known for months now. Her parents' plan of teaching her those tongues had worked to perfection. A flash of raven black streamed out behind her as she began to outdistance her parents.
Startled, she slid to a halt; her force throwing small stones and pieces of dirt into the air. A gentle laugh calmed her. Her father took no alarm, so she needn't. "He's only a hobbit, Phoenix." Distant Storm looked at him sharply. "I've never seen him this far south before."
A smile came to her face. "Feylaya?"
Lightning Bird nodded, then gazed over the distance to him. "You mustn't startle him, little Tinuviel. He may be a nice hobbit, but he has seen the Battle of the Five armies. He is skilled with that little sword of his, and fears that he is followed."
Gently they herded her northward, leaving plenty of space between themselves and the hobbit. He noticed them, and the filly they were guiding. She regarded him with undisguised wonder, yet politely didn't try to approach them and went on his way.
The sun began to fall under the horizon, hours later, casting brilliant hues of red and orange over the western sky.
Lightning Bird grew tense, feeling a darkness that threatened her child. "Viagora!" She hissed. The huntress thrust her daughter into an abandoned den that had been made by true wolves. Then she spoke in Quenya. "Stay there, little Tinuviel. Don't make a sound." Frightened, the little filly nodded.
Harsh, guttural laughter met their ears; orcs had them surrounded! Finally, one of them spoke in the common tongue. "Where is the Gem?" Nothing could make such a voice sound beautiful.
"We carry no Gem with us." Distant Storm snarled, feigning ignorance. He knew that whom they referred to was his daughter. Swords flashed in the dying light as they were drawn. Familiar sounds of her father drawing his daggers and heating them with fire magic, and her mother drawing her oaken quarterstaff didn't calm her. She knew this fight was going to be serious and deadly.
From her little, dark hiding place she could see all that happened on the field of battle. Tears built up in her eyes as her parents were wounded time and time again. Bright red blood and blood as black as night fell to the ground, soaking into the earth.
An orc let out an enraged battle cry as he struck her father down. He fell to the ground, blood gushing out of the lethal wound.
Phoenix placed her little hand over her mouth to keep herself from crying out. Then she cocked her head. What was that sound? Hoof beats! A horse was coming, swiftly bearing its rider to the place of engagement. Something from deep within told her that he wouldn't get here in time to help her mother.
Finally, an orc snarled again. "Last chance, Elven Star. Where is the Gem?"
Echo the Nymph
Disclaimer: I don't own Tolkien's characters
The seasons cycled thrice more
Before her third year,
They went north.
Changes had come to
The little Gem
And she had grown to
An adorable filly
With an incredible destiny....
Chapter 5
Lightning Bird stood upright after she finished with her pack. "Tinuviel, come here!" Her call prompted her daughter to leave off her catlike frolicking and she trotted over. Her gold-and-white coat shone under the sunlight, the shade having deepened over the seasons. The pattern she bore had also changed, becoming more like ivy leaves in golden light. Her eyes were as blue as sapphires, having not faded since her birth.
"Nanar, Mama?" The filly's voice was light and sweet, reminiscent of song.
Her parents smiled gently. She was always eager to accompany them on their trips and now they could take her.
"We are going north. There are some friends of ours we would like you to meet." Lightning Bird gently untangled her daughter's hair before braiding it once more. Happily, the filly accepted the pack her father handed to her. Phoenix wearied of the village. Her dreams whispered of a beautiful place, where plants grew in strength and green beauty. A place of peace and elven song.
The little Princess slipped her hand into her mother's as they left at an easy trot. Root-ribbed paths and dappled sunlight did not hinder them as they knew the forest as their own. Cautiously, the small group emerged from their shadowy haven.
A small gasp of delight came from Phoenix. Soft spring green grasses were only beginning to deepen to their summer hue. Rolling hills spread as far as the eye could see. The topaz blue sky stretched above them, littered with cottony-white clouds. "So beautiful, Mama!" Her young voice was hushed in awe. Never before had she seen the grasslands of Eriador as she did now.
"Yes, little Tinuviel. Beautiful indeed, and very different from Harlindon." Lightning Bird glanced at her mate who then drew out a well-made stone knife. He tied the belt that held it around his daughter's waist. She blinked at him with confusion, then smiled.
The adults struck up a ground eating trot over the rolling hills, their daughter taking three little strides to their one. Phoenix frisked about them like a kitten, singing the Sindaran children's songs she'd known for months now. Her parents' plan of teaching her those tongues had worked to perfection. A flash of raven black streamed out behind her as she began to outdistance her parents.
Startled, she slid to a halt; her force throwing small stones and pieces of dirt into the air. A gentle laugh calmed her. Her father took no alarm, so she needn't. "He's only a hobbit, Phoenix." Distant Storm looked at him sharply. "I've never seen him this far south before."
A smile came to her face. "Feylaya?"
Lightning Bird nodded, then gazed over the distance to him. "You mustn't startle him, little Tinuviel. He may be a nice hobbit, but he has seen the Battle of the Five armies. He is skilled with that little sword of his, and fears that he is followed."
Gently they herded her northward, leaving plenty of space between themselves and the hobbit. He noticed them, and the filly they were guiding. She regarded him with undisguised wonder, yet politely didn't try to approach them and went on his way.
The sun began to fall under the horizon, hours later, casting brilliant hues of red and orange over the western sky.
Lightning Bird grew tense, feeling a darkness that threatened her child. "Viagora!" She hissed. The huntress thrust her daughter into an abandoned den that had been made by true wolves. Then she spoke in Quenya. "Stay there, little Tinuviel. Don't make a sound." Frightened, the little filly nodded.
Harsh, guttural laughter met their ears; orcs had them surrounded! Finally, one of them spoke in the common tongue. "Where is the Gem?" Nothing could make such a voice sound beautiful.
"We carry no Gem with us." Distant Storm snarled, feigning ignorance. He knew that whom they referred to was his daughter. Swords flashed in the dying light as they were drawn. Familiar sounds of her father drawing his daggers and heating them with fire magic, and her mother drawing her oaken quarterstaff didn't calm her. She knew this fight was going to be serious and deadly.
From her little, dark hiding place she could see all that happened on the field of battle. Tears built up in her eyes as her parents were wounded time and time again. Bright red blood and blood as black as night fell to the ground, soaking into the earth.
An orc let out an enraged battle cry as he struck her father down. He fell to the ground, blood gushing out of the lethal wound.
Phoenix placed her little hand over her mouth to keep herself from crying out. Then she cocked her head. What was that sound? Hoof beats! A horse was coming, swiftly bearing its rider to the place of engagement. Something from deep within told her that he wouldn't get here in time to help her mother.
Finally, an orc snarled again. "Last chance, Elven Star. Where is the Gem?"