FIDES AETERNA
by Evil McFlurry
Disclaimer: JRR Tolkien owns Legolas and everything else you recognize from the Lord of the Rings trilogy. All characters, settings, and situations from the Harry Potter series belong to JK Rowling. The plot, Silmar (the Elven ring), Adrienne, Celestine Delacour, and other unfamiliar nouns originated from my bordering-on-insane imagination and, therefore, are copyrighted by none other than moi.
A/N: Hi there! Thanks for reading this sarcasmlovely/sarcasm piece of work, featuring a sixteen-year-old girl named Celestine, who is part-Veela and part-Elf. This story is an account of all the crazy adventures she has and the love she encounters (Who will that be?) while in her sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. There will be a sequel about… Oops, I shouldn't be giving away too much information… ü
Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading this, and please don't hesitate to send in constructive criticism, opinions, suggestions, invitations to join obscure cults, etc. Flame me if you like, but bear in mind that these flames will only be laughed at.
On with the story!
PROLOGUE
Legolas Greenleaf was strolling through Mirkwood Forest when he heard a low, desperate moan. The fair-haired Elven prince stopped in his tracks and looked around him, wondering where the noise had come from.
He heard it again, only this time it sounded closer. With the smooth and polished gesture of a true archer, he notched an arrow and readied his bow, just in case some foul creature came his way.
Another moan. Much closer still.
He frowned. No beast could make a noise like that; it had to be an Elf, or, possibly, a Mortal. "Who goes there?" he called out.
An Elf suddenly appeared from behind a nearby tree. He was covered in blood, his garments were torn, and he could barely walk. As soon as he saw Legolas, he collapsed to the ground.
Dropping his bow, Legolas ran to the fallen Elf and knelt beside him. "What happened to you, my brother?" he asked worriedly, helping the Elf to a sitting position with his back against the tree trunk.
"Wargs… attacked me…" croaked the wounded Elf, gasping for breath. "I am Namiroth… from… the House of Elrond…"
Legolas' eyes widened. "Lord Elrond? He sent you?" Then he realized how foolish he was to be questioning this Elf when he was so close to dying. "I must take you to my people. They shall tend to your wounds."
Namiroth held up a hand, stopping him. "No," he gasped, shaking his head. "No… hope for me now… too late…"
"There is always hope," said Legolas. "If you will lean on me, I'll---"
"Lord Elrond sent… this…" Namiroth opened a bloodied fist. Legolas stared at the small silver ring in his palm.
"What is this, Namiroth?"
"Give to… King Thranduil… Tell him… to… keep safe…" Namiroth was wheezing now. His blue eyes were glazed, and his face had drained of all color, its almost snowy whiteness providing a stark contrast to the deep red color of the blood that flowed from his scalp. "Ring's name is… Silmar…"
"Namiroth!" cried Legolas, but the messenger from Rivendell closed his eyes and took his final breath.
The Prince of Mirkwood bowed his head, grieved by the violent death of one of his kin. After some time he picked up the ring from Namiroth's open palm and studied it intently.
Silmar was an exquisite piece of jewelry. It was made entirely of silver--- probably mithril--- and encrusted with tiny diamonds that glimmered like stardust. What was puzzling was that not a single speck of Namiroth's blood had stained it.
What is this ring? Legolas asked himself. Why is it so important that Lord Elrond of Rivendell sent one of his messengers to give it to my father, when he knows all too well that the borders of Mirkwood are a dangerous place?
There was a certain power in the ring. Legolas could sense it. The longer he held it and looked at it, the stronger the desire to wear it grew. He slipped it onto his finger, where it felt strangely warm.
"Such a pretty little piece," Legolas murmured, almost lovingly.
A loud clap that sounded like thunder and a blinding flash of light made the Elf look up, startled.
What he saw made his heart momentarily stop beating.
A circle of white light, large enough for him to go through, had appeared between two nearby trees. Legolas stood up and walked towards it. As he did so, he was aware that the ring on his finger had suddenly become uncomfortably hot and was vibrating, as if excited. He tried to remove it, but no matter how hard he pulled, it wouldn't come off his finger.
"What devilry is this?" he said aloud.
He neared the circle of light, and was astonished to find himself looking at a strange forest that was definitely not Mirkwood.
Legolas wondered if he dared to go through the circle and enter that strange forest… suppose he could not find a way back? But the sense of adventure was flowing through his veins, overwhelming any misgivings he had.
Taking a deep breath, Legolas walked through the circle of light.