This is AU, because I will probably get things out of date, ectra. Don't own Ecthelion or Glorfindel, Tolkien does, though I'm just giving them a past. I hope you enjoy it! More will be coming soon, and updates for the others are on their way. Oh, for those of you who are Glor fans, check out www.geocities.com/queen_of_the_night_jewel/Glorfindel_Shrine.html
Fire and Water
Cold. It was so cold.
The youth stumbled forward, nearly numb with the cold. Around him, the snow fell in greater drifts, blanketing him if he stayed still for even a moment. He was dressed in faded rags, telling of a hard time upon the road. Barely ten years old, it was easy to tell him to be of the Eldar race, by his unblemished pale skin, long silver hair, and his distinctly pointed ears. He was too young to be on his own, in the middle of winter in a forest. But there was no one to care for him, and he was alone in his struggle to survive, which he was slowly losing. He had been traveling for a long time, the sorrow in his heart driving him further and further away from others, be they of his own race or the Edain.
He fell, not for the first time. But his struggle to rise was met with failure as his exhausted, frozen muscles refused to go on. He tried again to struggle up, only to find the same failure. Curling up as best as he could to keep somewhat warm, he finally gave into the beckoning sleep that had hounded him for so long. The snow continued to fall, and finally covered his small form in a blanket of white.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Boots crunched as they stepped upon the ice and snow as the figure walked among the trees, guiding a midnight black horse with him. The snow had passed, leaving everything covered in white beauty.
But the figure cared nothing for it, only wanting to get to the next town. The storm had delayed him, and that irritated him slightly, but he gave no outward sign that it had. Stopping briefly, the figure pulled his hood back, allowing his golden hair to spill from it. Sharp green eyes took the landscape in at a glance, as sharp, Elven ears listened for any other being. He could hear nothing other then other beasts roaming close by, yet he felt that there was another of his kindred near. Walking forward slowly, his boots connected with something that was too hard to be snow and ice, but too soft to be a root or stone. Kneeling, he gently brushed the snow away, to discover the face of an Elven child. Frowning now, he uncovered the rest of the frozen stiff form, and then checked for a pulse in the child's neck. For a moment, he thought to give him up for dead, when he found the faintest of heartbeats.
Gently lifting the child up, he quickly checked him for any injuries, but only found that the child was half starved, and near dead from the cold. Laying the boy briefly back down in the snow, he pulled his cloak from his shoulders, and wrapped the other in it. Knowing he would not have time to get to the town before the little one succumbed completely to the cold, he set about making a fire. Gathering what dry wood he could find, he quickly set it up and set fire to it.
He then gently gathered up the boy, and laid him close to the fire. Looking up at the sky, he sighed irritably at the thought of stopping for yet another day, and began to set up camp.
Just as he had set up the small cloth shelter he had with him, he noticed that the boy was stirring slightly. Going over to the child, he knelt beside him, and gently put his fingers upon the boy's brow. The child stirred again and opened his liquid blue eyes.
The older Elf stopped just as he was about to move away. For a moment, he felt a connection to the child that he had not had with anyone else before. But the feeling was brief, and quickly slipped away before he could understand it.
Smiling slightly, as not to disturb the child he moved his hand away.
"Hello, he said.
"Hello," the child replied, looking slightly afraid, yet more relieved.
"Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you," the Elf said.
"I know. I'm glad you found me," the child said earnestly, yet the slight fear did not fade from his eyes.
The Elf frowned inside, for he knew that he was not the cause of the child's fears, but what had lead the child out here was what had caused it. Could it be... He shook the thought from his mind; this was not the time to think of that one.
"What are you doing out here alone, little one?" he asked.
The child shivered, and snuggled further in his cloak, "I don't want to talk about it."
"All right," the Elf said, and moved away a little, "Are you hungry?"
The child nodded, causing the older Elf to smile.
"Well then, I think I can find something," the Elf said, turning to his pack nearby.
Ruffling through it quickly, he noted distastefully that his food supply was rather low. In fact, he was down to only a few pieces of dried apples, and a near dried out piece of bread. Sighing, he lifted these scarce items, and handed them reluctantly to the child, for he wished he had something better to offer to the starving child. But the child did not seem to mind the staleness of what was offered, but took it gratefully, and smiled brightly at him before beginning to eat.
"Who are you?" the child asked between mouthfuls.
"Nárello, the wanderer," the Elf said, "You?"
The child stilled in his eating, and his eyes turned inward in thought. Sorrow clouded his fair eyes, and he looked back to Nárello, "I can't remember," he said softly, biting his lip.
The older Elf's heart panged for the younger, for it must indeed have been such a harsh tragedy for him to forget his own name.
"Child, do you know where you parents are?" Nárello asked softly.
"Nay, but I believe they are dead," the child whispered, bowing his head as he tried to hide the tears that seemed to flood his eyes.
Nárello sighed softly, for he feared what could have happened to this child's parents, and others that had probably been with them If what he feared had happened, had indeed happened, then the child was without guardian, and was too young to be without. He could not leave him alone within these fell woods, not with the enemy's kind nearby.
"Then I believe you shall have to come with me," Nárello said.
The boy looked up to him once more, that look of relief again within his eyes. The elder could not blame him, for he knew he was probably deathly scared, and had only narrowly escaped death.
"We shall have to decide upon a name along the way, for I cannot call you Elfling the entire time that you are with me. We shall be traveling to an Atani town nearby, and perhaps stay the winter there," Nárello continued.
He had not planned to stop there, only gather supplied and be gone, but now with this child, he knew it was much too cold to go on traveling through the bitter winter. The child would not be up to it, and he resigned himself to his fate of having to stay in one place for a while.
The child nodded again, seemingly accepting of staying with him, though he had only met him a scarce hour ago. Nárello noted that this may be a reaction of delayed shock, or desperation, but somewhere in his harden heart, he took pity upon the boy.
The child suddenly yawned slightly, and his eyes blinked sleepily. Sighing softly once again, the older Elf reminded himself that the child had indeed just started recovering from a near death experience. He stood, quickly crossed over to the child, and gently picked him up, making sure the cloak was securely wrapped around the small form.
"Come, we shall get some rest, and start up towards the town tomorrow," he said to the sleepy child, and carried him into his tent.
Fire and Water
Cold. It was so cold.
The youth stumbled forward, nearly numb with the cold. Around him, the snow fell in greater drifts, blanketing him if he stayed still for even a moment. He was dressed in faded rags, telling of a hard time upon the road. Barely ten years old, it was easy to tell him to be of the Eldar race, by his unblemished pale skin, long silver hair, and his distinctly pointed ears. He was too young to be on his own, in the middle of winter in a forest. But there was no one to care for him, and he was alone in his struggle to survive, which he was slowly losing. He had been traveling for a long time, the sorrow in his heart driving him further and further away from others, be they of his own race or the Edain.
He fell, not for the first time. But his struggle to rise was met with failure as his exhausted, frozen muscles refused to go on. He tried again to struggle up, only to find the same failure. Curling up as best as he could to keep somewhat warm, he finally gave into the beckoning sleep that had hounded him for so long. The snow continued to fall, and finally covered his small form in a blanket of white.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Boots crunched as they stepped upon the ice and snow as the figure walked among the trees, guiding a midnight black horse with him. The snow had passed, leaving everything covered in white beauty.
But the figure cared nothing for it, only wanting to get to the next town. The storm had delayed him, and that irritated him slightly, but he gave no outward sign that it had. Stopping briefly, the figure pulled his hood back, allowing his golden hair to spill from it. Sharp green eyes took the landscape in at a glance, as sharp, Elven ears listened for any other being. He could hear nothing other then other beasts roaming close by, yet he felt that there was another of his kindred near. Walking forward slowly, his boots connected with something that was too hard to be snow and ice, but too soft to be a root or stone. Kneeling, he gently brushed the snow away, to discover the face of an Elven child. Frowning now, he uncovered the rest of the frozen stiff form, and then checked for a pulse in the child's neck. For a moment, he thought to give him up for dead, when he found the faintest of heartbeats.
Gently lifting the child up, he quickly checked him for any injuries, but only found that the child was half starved, and near dead from the cold. Laying the boy briefly back down in the snow, he pulled his cloak from his shoulders, and wrapped the other in it. Knowing he would not have time to get to the town before the little one succumbed completely to the cold, he set about making a fire. Gathering what dry wood he could find, he quickly set it up and set fire to it.
He then gently gathered up the boy, and laid him close to the fire. Looking up at the sky, he sighed irritably at the thought of stopping for yet another day, and began to set up camp.
Just as he had set up the small cloth shelter he had with him, he noticed that the boy was stirring slightly. Going over to the child, he knelt beside him, and gently put his fingers upon the boy's brow. The child stirred again and opened his liquid blue eyes.
The older Elf stopped just as he was about to move away. For a moment, he felt a connection to the child that he had not had with anyone else before. But the feeling was brief, and quickly slipped away before he could understand it.
Smiling slightly, as not to disturb the child he moved his hand away.
"Hello, he said.
"Hello," the child replied, looking slightly afraid, yet more relieved.
"Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you," the Elf said.
"I know. I'm glad you found me," the child said earnestly, yet the slight fear did not fade from his eyes.
The Elf frowned inside, for he knew that he was not the cause of the child's fears, but what had lead the child out here was what had caused it. Could it be... He shook the thought from his mind; this was not the time to think of that one.
"What are you doing out here alone, little one?" he asked.
The child shivered, and snuggled further in his cloak, "I don't want to talk about it."
"All right," the Elf said, and moved away a little, "Are you hungry?"
The child nodded, causing the older Elf to smile.
"Well then, I think I can find something," the Elf said, turning to his pack nearby.
Ruffling through it quickly, he noted distastefully that his food supply was rather low. In fact, he was down to only a few pieces of dried apples, and a near dried out piece of bread. Sighing, he lifted these scarce items, and handed them reluctantly to the child, for he wished he had something better to offer to the starving child. But the child did not seem to mind the staleness of what was offered, but took it gratefully, and smiled brightly at him before beginning to eat.
"Who are you?" the child asked between mouthfuls.
"Nárello, the wanderer," the Elf said, "You?"
The child stilled in his eating, and his eyes turned inward in thought. Sorrow clouded his fair eyes, and he looked back to Nárello, "I can't remember," he said softly, biting his lip.
The older Elf's heart panged for the younger, for it must indeed have been such a harsh tragedy for him to forget his own name.
"Child, do you know where you parents are?" Nárello asked softly.
"Nay, but I believe they are dead," the child whispered, bowing his head as he tried to hide the tears that seemed to flood his eyes.
Nárello sighed softly, for he feared what could have happened to this child's parents, and others that had probably been with them If what he feared had happened, had indeed happened, then the child was without guardian, and was too young to be without. He could not leave him alone within these fell woods, not with the enemy's kind nearby.
"Then I believe you shall have to come with me," Nárello said.
The boy looked up to him once more, that look of relief again within his eyes. The elder could not blame him, for he knew he was probably deathly scared, and had only narrowly escaped death.
"We shall have to decide upon a name along the way, for I cannot call you Elfling the entire time that you are with me. We shall be traveling to an Atani town nearby, and perhaps stay the winter there," Nárello continued.
He had not planned to stop there, only gather supplied and be gone, but now with this child, he knew it was much too cold to go on traveling through the bitter winter. The child would not be up to it, and he resigned himself to his fate of having to stay in one place for a while.
The child nodded again, seemingly accepting of staying with him, though he had only met him a scarce hour ago. Nárello noted that this may be a reaction of delayed shock, or desperation, but somewhere in his harden heart, he took pity upon the boy.
The child suddenly yawned slightly, and his eyes blinked sleepily. Sighing softly once again, the older Elf reminded himself that the child had indeed just started recovering from a near death experience. He stood, quickly crossed over to the child, and gently picked him up, making sure the cloak was securely wrapped around the small form.
"Come, we shall get some rest, and start up towards the town tomorrow," he said to the sleepy child, and carried him into his tent.