Disclaimer: It's actually a quite simple little mutual agreement: I
own Danali, Tolkien owns everyone else. Nice, huh?
Willow
Nencoras was nestled within a deep, ancient forest, the age of which none knew. Few men or beasts ever entered it anymore, providing an unparalleled secrecy from the outside world. The timesongs flowed freely here, their melodies and rhythms unchanged from their conception. It was here that Danali was raised, was trained, and ultimately escaped from. It was here that her life began, and where part of it ended.
The children loved the forest, and when they were not out on raids, they would walk it's sheltered paths and escape into the memories of the trees. Often they would rest cradled in the massive roots, their eyes half closed and their lips murmuring the Elven tongues. For here, they were protected, here no danger could touch them, no death could slip it's cold, dry fingers around their souls as long as the trees whispered peace into their fragile hearts.
There was one tree in particular that Danali loved; a giant willow on the bank of a small brook that trickled from the nearby mountains. She would arrange her small body among it's roots so that her feet dangled in the crystal water, and place her hands on the knobby limbs protruding around her. She loved feeling the life-pulse that met her fingertips, loved hearing the rich harmony of the willow's voice in her head, the songs it sang in cadence with the flowing water. Sometimes she would sing back to it, and feel the warmth course through her hands with greater strength. She eventually learned all the songs of the willow, and would hum them to herself during a particularly brutal weapons drill, or at night when the moonlight streamed across her bed. No one knew of her friendship with the trees, nor did she speak of it.
The night of her escape, the night her best friend died, the brook was the first place she fled to, her ravaged mind seeking out the comfort of willow one last time. She stayed until the cries of the hunted and the heavy footfalls of the hunters grew too close. She could still see the man stumble out of the underbrush, as if in slow motion, his bow raised, his face contorted in cold fury. She spun away, too late, too late, and waited for the arrow to find it's mark. When nothing happened, she turned to see the arrow embedded in a thick branch, the man writhing in the shallow water as the life was slowly squeezed from him by a sinewy root. His eyes burned holes in hers as he grasped desperately, futilely at the crushing root, his mouth a gaping cave of silence. She wrenched her eyes closed and heard a faint, silvery groan that tore her heart and made tears struggle from the corners of her eyes. The willow had...
Saved her.
She gasped raggedly and sprinted from the area, her heart threatening to burst from her chest, her mind screaming in circles, around and around and-
" Then Fingon the valiant, son of Fingolfin, resolved to heal the feud that divided the Noldor, before their enemy should be ready for war; for the earth trembled in the Northlands with the thunder of the forges of Morgoth underground."
Orophin looked up expectantly from the old book in his lap that he had been reading out of and sighed. Danali was sprawled comfortably in the chair across from him, playing with Dulin and focusing more on the kitten's antics than the history of the world. Her hand trailed a piece of string tantalizingly around her lap, then jerked it swiftly out of reach when Dulin pounced at the last moment, occasionally causing her to giggle like a child. The game continued until Danali finally noticed the impatient silence emanating from the Elf sitting across from her. She glanced up sheepishly and suppressed a grin.
Orophin's face was dead serious, but his eyes sparkled as he regarded the girl and her cat. A smile threatened to pull at the corners of his mouth, and it was all he could do to keep the laughter from his voice.
"Shall I continue, or am I interrupting you?"
Dulin mewed innocently at Orophin, and Danali raised a hand to her mouth to stifle a giggle. Orophin continued in his mock-annoyed manner, his tone cool and airy as he addressed the kitten.
"Oh, well, in that case, please accept my humblest apologies. I shall trouble you no further with my frivolous little stories. Please, carry on."
With that, he got up and bowed formally to Dulin before turning and making as if to walk away. Danali sat up quickly, mustering all her will to fight the stream of laughs that threatened to spill from her.
"Orophin, wait."
He turned slowly, and with an air of righteous hurt, sniffed, "Yes?"
Danali struggled to keep a straight face.
"I think Dulin needs a respite from all this wondrous storytelling, you know, what with it being nice outside and all. Perhaps she would like to go for a walk, or, say..." Her eyes strayed to the longbows lying on the table.
"Go for a little target practice?"
An amused smile crept over Orophin's face as he closed his eyes and shook his head resignedly. He tilted his head toward the bows.
"The day my brothers let you touch their bows will be the day Harad freezes over."
Danali widened her eyes and adopted her best pleading face.
"What about yours?"
Orophin raised his eyebrows, walked back to his chair and picked up the book, aware of Danali's disappointment, which she was trying to hide under a wily glint in her eyes. He flipped through the pages languidly while the girl sulkily slumped back in her seat, musing to himself. The histories were rather tortuous, but he had always found the stories of his peoples' past fascinating, and he did not understand why she was so bored. After all, he smirked, he could be reading about the geography of Beleriand to her. That part practically guaranteed sleep anytime. He chanced a glimpse at Danali, who was humming softly to a curled-up Dulin. He allowed a small smile to creep up on him, and lowered the book.
" Do you enjoy singing?"
Danali shyly met his eyes and nodded. The Elf gazed at her thoughtfully, his green eyes sparkling with life and mystery.
"Then perhaps I shall teach you a lay. I think I know just the one." He turned and pulled another book from the small pile on the adjacent table. "I do not have it all learned by heart, but I am sure it will please you."
Danali waited patiently while Orophin found the page, then became puzzled as he suddenly looked up at her.
"It is long, and you must promise me you will also hear the spoken story whence it comes with a willing mind."
Danali quickly murmured in agreement, her eyes curious, her attention rapt as he began in a soft, enchanting tenor.
"Lo! The golden dragon of the God of Hell the gloom of the woods of the world now gone the woes of Men, and weeping of Elves fading faintly down forest pathways, is now to tell, and the name most tearful of Niniel the sorrowful, and the name most sad of Thalion's son Turin o'erthrown by fate.
Lo! Hurin Thalion in the hosts of war Was whelmed, what time the white-clad armies Of Elfinesse were all to ru-"
The ethereal song was abruptly cut off as Haldir and Rumil walked through the doorway, talking animatedly. Orophin smiled, then gestured for Danali to wipe the irritated frown off her face until she grudgingly complied. He playfully tugged on Rumil's cloak as he passed.
"How was the court report, dear brother?"
Rumil continued to the kitchen without looking back.
"Better for you not being there."
Orophin chuckled, swung his legs over and out of his chair and jumped up.
"Well, I see it put one of you in a marvelous mood, now what about the other?"
His soothing voice traveled to Haldir as he leaned against the wall with a questioning gaze. Haldir could not resist an amused smile as he busily pulled bowls from cabinets to prepare the midday meal. All these centuries together, and his brothers' verbal sparring matches never ceased to add some spirit into his days.
"It went alright," he ventured non-commitedly.
"Yes, up until Calaglin felt it necessary to inform the Lord and Lady that we had let in that group of lost women from Rohan without court permission, and that furthermore, they may have had Orcs following them, even though there were none to be seen for miles, and so on, ad nauseam," Rumil added irritatedly.
Haldir cast Rumil a bemused glance and raised his hands.
"Peace, brother. Calaglin is inexperienced and has not been a guard for long. We have been over this already."
"He will not be a guard for much longer if he ever pulls something like that again," Rumil muttered. Haldir sighed and thrust a bowl toward him, then grabbed his wrists and pushed his hands into the flour and egg mixture. Rumil's face softened as his brother leaned over with kind eyes and quietly spoke.
"He was being honest."
Rumil pursed his lips in resignation and began to mix the bread dough as Orophin moved to assist Haldir with another batch. Danali silently observed the trio, her hands stroking the kitten absently, trying to imagine what having a real family was like, with real siblings and parents and older brothers one could tell her thoughts to. The prospect baffled her, yet intrigued her spirit, and she suddenly felt alone as she watched the three flinging flour at each other and laughing like children, even Rumil.
When the flour wars had subsided, Danali wandered over to stand at the corner of the counter where Orophin was working and choked back a giggle. His hair was streaked with white, as were his clothes and forehead. He turned to her and grinned mischievously.
"What do you need, Dani?"
"When are you going to finish the song?"
Rumil's voice chimed from the tiny oven at the other side of the kitchen.
"Orophin sang for you?"
"Yes."
"I'm sorry."
Orophin cast a venomous glare at Rumil and turned back to Danali, calmly ignoring the snickers coming from the oven.
"Later tonight, if you wish."
A light slipped into the girl's eyes and she nodded, then glanced over at Haldir, who was kneading dough with quick, powerful strokes, his sleeves rolled to his elbows and his hands moving confidently over the counter. She raised her voice a little higher.
"Why do you never sing, Master Haldir?"
Before he could answer, Orophin dusted his hands on his tunic and went to find another bowl.
"Because the only time my brother ever sings is when he's drunk."
A small clatter came from the counter where Haldir was working, and more snickers arose from the oven. A look that struck the fear of Eru into Danali passed over his countenance, and he waited calmly for Orophin to meet his eyes. Orophin opened his mouth, then thought better of it and instead moved away from the counters. He grinned broadly before ducking under Haldir's raised arm and leapt nimbly behind the chair Dulin was sleeping in. He swiftly dodged his brother again and returned to the kitchen and his dough, but not without receiving a cuff to the back of his head for his troubles.
Haldir rolled his eyes, shook his head and turned to where Danali was, but saw no one. He frowned and walked around to the other side of the counter, where he found the girl with her hands pressed to the ground and her legs out in front of her, silently laughing uncontrollably, her body shaking with mirth. He knelt and waited for her to finish, a half-smile lightening his features. She looked up sheepishly at him, then accepted his hand and rose to her feet.
"So you do know how to laugh," he teased gently.
He led her around to the ball of dough he had been working on. She stared at it cluelessly, then gave it a pathetic little punch. Haldir smiled and walked behind her, taking her hands in his own and slowly guiding them in the kneading motions before stepping back and allowing her to try. Her movements were clumsy at first, but grew smoother as she massaged the pillowy mass. When next she turned, Rumil was standing with a wooden board, smiling encouragingly. He beckoned for her to set the dough on the tray, then slightly jerked his head at Haldir and winked before turning towards the oven.
This time, she had to run to the other room with a hand over her mouth.
Ok, I took two excerpts from books:
Silmarillion, J.R.R. Tolkien, Del Rey, p.125
The Lays of Beleriand, J.R.R. Tolkien, Del Rey, p.5
You like, don't like? I know it's a little different from my usual stuff.
Willow
Nencoras was nestled within a deep, ancient forest, the age of which none knew. Few men or beasts ever entered it anymore, providing an unparalleled secrecy from the outside world. The timesongs flowed freely here, their melodies and rhythms unchanged from their conception. It was here that Danali was raised, was trained, and ultimately escaped from. It was here that her life began, and where part of it ended.
The children loved the forest, and when they were not out on raids, they would walk it's sheltered paths and escape into the memories of the trees. Often they would rest cradled in the massive roots, their eyes half closed and their lips murmuring the Elven tongues. For here, they were protected, here no danger could touch them, no death could slip it's cold, dry fingers around their souls as long as the trees whispered peace into their fragile hearts.
There was one tree in particular that Danali loved; a giant willow on the bank of a small brook that trickled from the nearby mountains. She would arrange her small body among it's roots so that her feet dangled in the crystal water, and place her hands on the knobby limbs protruding around her. She loved feeling the life-pulse that met her fingertips, loved hearing the rich harmony of the willow's voice in her head, the songs it sang in cadence with the flowing water. Sometimes she would sing back to it, and feel the warmth course through her hands with greater strength. She eventually learned all the songs of the willow, and would hum them to herself during a particularly brutal weapons drill, or at night when the moonlight streamed across her bed. No one knew of her friendship with the trees, nor did she speak of it.
The night of her escape, the night her best friend died, the brook was the first place she fled to, her ravaged mind seeking out the comfort of willow one last time. She stayed until the cries of the hunted and the heavy footfalls of the hunters grew too close. She could still see the man stumble out of the underbrush, as if in slow motion, his bow raised, his face contorted in cold fury. She spun away, too late, too late, and waited for the arrow to find it's mark. When nothing happened, she turned to see the arrow embedded in a thick branch, the man writhing in the shallow water as the life was slowly squeezed from him by a sinewy root. His eyes burned holes in hers as he grasped desperately, futilely at the crushing root, his mouth a gaping cave of silence. She wrenched her eyes closed and heard a faint, silvery groan that tore her heart and made tears struggle from the corners of her eyes. The willow had...
Saved her.
She gasped raggedly and sprinted from the area, her heart threatening to burst from her chest, her mind screaming in circles, around and around and-
" Then Fingon the valiant, son of Fingolfin, resolved to heal the feud that divided the Noldor, before their enemy should be ready for war; for the earth trembled in the Northlands with the thunder of the forges of Morgoth underground."
Orophin looked up expectantly from the old book in his lap that he had been reading out of and sighed. Danali was sprawled comfortably in the chair across from him, playing with Dulin and focusing more on the kitten's antics than the history of the world. Her hand trailed a piece of string tantalizingly around her lap, then jerked it swiftly out of reach when Dulin pounced at the last moment, occasionally causing her to giggle like a child. The game continued until Danali finally noticed the impatient silence emanating from the Elf sitting across from her. She glanced up sheepishly and suppressed a grin.
Orophin's face was dead serious, but his eyes sparkled as he regarded the girl and her cat. A smile threatened to pull at the corners of his mouth, and it was all he could do to keep the laughter from his voice.
"Shall I continue, or am I interrupting you?"
Dulin mewed innocently at Orophin, and Danali raised a hand to her mouth to stifle a giggle. Orophin continued in his mock-annoyed manner, his tone cool and airy as he addressed the kitten.
"Oh, well, in that case, please accept my humblest apologies. I shall trouble you no further with my frivolous little stories. Please, carry on."
With that, he got up and bowed formally to Dulin before turning and making as if to walk away. Danali sat up quickly, mustering all her will to fight the stream of laughs that threatened to spill from her.
"Orophin, wait."
He turned slowly, and with an air of righteous hurt, sniffed, "Yes?"
Danali struggled to keep a straight face.
"I think Dulin needs a respite from all this wondrous storytelling, you know, what with it being nice outside and all. Perhaps she would like to go for a walk, or, say..." Her eyes strayed to the longbows lying on the table.
"Go for a little target practice?"
An amused smile crept over Orophin's face as he closed his eyes and shook his head resignedly. He tilted his head toward the bows.
"The day my brothers let you touch their bows will be the day Harad freezes over."
Danali widened her eyes and adopted her best pleading face.
"What about yours?"
Orophin raised his eyebrows, walked back to his chair and picked up the book, aware of Danali's disappointment, which she was trying to hide under a wily glint in her eyes. He flipped through the pages languidly while the girl sulkily slumped back in her seat, musing to himself. The histories were rather tortuous, but he had always found the stories of his peoples' past fascinating, and he did not understand why she was so bored. After all, he smirked, he could be reading about the geography of Beleriand to her. That part practically guaranteed sleep anytime. He chanced a glimpse at Danali, who was humming softly to a curled-up Dulin. He allowed a small smile to creep up on him, and lowered the book.
" Do you enjoy singing?"
Danali shyly met his eyes and nodded. The Elf gazed at her thoughtfully, his green eyes sparkling with life and mystery.
"Then perhaps I shall teach you a lay. I think I know just the one." He turned and pulled another book from the small pile on the adjacent table. "I do not have it all learned by heart, but I am sure it will please you."
Danali waited patiently while Orophin found the page, then became puzzled as he suddenly looked up at her.
"It is long, and you must promise me you will also hear the spoken story whence it comes with a willing mind."
Danali quickly murmured in agreement, her eyes curious, her attention rapt as he began in a soft, enchanting tenor.
"Lo! The golden dragon of the God of Hell the gloom of the woods of the world now gone the woes of Men, and weeping of Elves fading faintly down forest pathways, is now to tell, and the name most tearful of Niniel the sorrowful, and the name most sad of Thalion's son Turin o'erthrown by fate.
Lo! Hurin Thalion in the hosts of war Was whelmed, what time the white-clad armies Of Elfinesse were all to ru-"
The ethereal song was abruptly cut off as Haldir and Rumil walked through the doorway, talking animatedly. Orophin smiled, then gestured for Danali to wipe the irritated frown off her face until she grudgingly complied. He playfully tugged on Rumil's cloak as he passed.
"How was the court report, dear brother?"
Rumil continued to the kitchen without looking back.
"Better for you not being there."
Orophin chuckled, swung his legs over and out of his chair and jumped up.
"Well, I see it put one of you in a marvelous mood, now what about the other?"
His soothing voice traveled to Haldir as he leaned against the wall with a questioning gaze. Haldir could not resist an amused smile as he busily pulled bowls from cabinets to prepare the midday meal. All these centuries together, and his brothers' verbal sparring matches never ceased to add some spirit into his days.
"It went alright," he ventured non-commitedly.
"Yes, up until Calaglin felt it necessary to inform the Lord and Lady that we had let in that group of lost women from Rohan without court permission, and that furthermore, they may have had Orcs following them, even though there were none to be seen for miles, and so on, ad nauseam," Rumil added irritatedly.
Haldir cast Rumil a bemused glance and raised his hands.
"Peace, brother. Calaglin is inexperienced and has not been a guard for long. We have been over this already."
"He will not be a guard for much longer if he ever pulls something like that again," Rumil muttered. Haldir sighed and thrust a bowl toward him, then grabbed his wrists and pushed his hands into the flour and egg mixture. Rumil's face softened as his brother leaned over with kind eyes and quietly spoke.
"He was being honest."
Rumil pursed his lips in resignation and began to mix the bread dough as Orophin moved to assist Haldir with another batch. Danali silently observed the trio, her hands stroking the kitten absently, trying to imagine what having a real family was like, with real siblings and parents and older brothers one could tell her thoughts to. The prospect baffled her, yet intrigued her spirit, and she suddenly felt alone as she watched the three flinging flour at each other and laughing like children, even Rumil.
When the flour wars had subsided, Danali wandered over to stand at the corner of the counter where Orophin was working and choked back a giggle. His hair was streaked with white, as were his clothes and forehead. He turned to her and grinned mischievously.
"What do you need, Dani?"
"When are you going to finish the song?"
Rumil's voice chimed from the tiny oven at the other side of the kitchen.
"Orophin sang for you?"
"Yes."
"I'm sorry."
Orophin cast a venomous glare at Rumil and turned back to Danali, calmly ignoring the snickers coming from the oven.
"Later tonight, if you wish."
A light slipped into the girl's eyes and she nodded, then glanced over at Haldir, who was kneading dough with quick, powerful strokes, his sleeves rolled to his elbows and his hands moving confidently over the counter. She raised her voice a little higher.
"Why do you never sing, Master Haldir?"
Before he could answer, Orophin dusted his hands on his tunic and went to find another bowl.
"Because the only time my brother ever sings is when he's drunk."
A small clatter came from the counter where Haldir was working, and more snickers arose from the oven. A look that struck the fear of Eru into Danali passed over his countenance, and he waited calmly for Orophin to meet his eyes. Orophin opened his mouth, then thought better of it and instead moved away from the counters. He grinned broadly before ducking under Haldir's raised arm and leapt nimbly behind the chair Dulin was sleeping in. He swiftly dodged his brother again and returned to the kitchen and his dough, but not without receiving a cuff to the back of his head for his troubles.
Haldir rolled his eyes, shook his head and turned to where Danali was, but saw no one. He frowned and walked around to the other side of the counter, where he found the girl with her hands pressed to the ground and her legs out in front of her, silently laughing uncontrollably, her body shaking with mirth. He knelt and waited for her to finish, a half-smile lightening his features. She looked up sheepishly at him, then accepted his hand and rose to her feet.
"So you do know how to laugh," he teased gently.
He led her around to the ball of dough he had been working on. She stared at it cluelessly, then gave it a pathetic little punch. Haldir smiled and walked behind her, taking her hands in his own and slowly guiding them in the kneading motions before stepping back and allowing her to try. Her movements were clumsy at first, but grew smoother as she massaged the pillowy mass. When next she turned, Rumil was standing with a wooden board, smiling encouragingly. He beckoned for her to set the dough on the tray, then slightly jerked his head at Haldir and winked before turning towards the oven.
This time, she had to run to the other room with a hand over her mouth.
Ok, I took two excerpts from books:
Silmarillion, J.R.R. Tolkien, Del Rey, p.125
The Lays of Beleriand, J.R.R. Tolkien, Del Rey, p.5
You like, don't like? I know it's a little different from my usual stuff.
