Eye of the Ice Dragon
by Elarin
to LadyHarlequin: you're good at the meanings of the words _~ and as for the meaning of 'Vanarie' you're wicked close to what it means. All will be explained in upcoming chapters though!
*
Chapter 4 | The Tale Unfolds
Elrond had left Glorfindel to take care of Telperiel as he quickly left the rooms with an urgent need to find Mithrandir. He asked some of the servants and guards in the halls but none knew, except for one of the younger maids who saw him go by to speak with Thranduil. Elrond sighed deeply and walked toward Thranduil's chambers and knocked lightly on the door.
It opened and a calm face greeted him, with sapphire blue eyes and golden hair.
"Mithrandir told me you would be seeking him, Lord Elrond." said the younger elven king.
"And have you seen him, Thranduil?" Elrond asked accepting his invitation to step in. Thranduil's room seemed woven of tree roots and flowers and it looked out of one of the higher points of the hill where his halls were located beneath. Tapestries depicting old love stories hung upon his walls and elven beryls glimmered about the twisted vine and white flowers that released their fragrance about the room.
"Indeed, I have. He left." said Thranduil as he sat in one of the nearby chairs close to his balcony where the pale white veil swayed lightly in the breezes. Elrond sighed then in frustration but sat across the other.
"And where is he now?"
"I do not know. But he told me he was on errand, and flew, and said he would shortly and that you would coming looking for him." Thranduil knitted his golden brows, "Something troubles him deeply but I know not what." Thranduil picked up a folded and sealed parchment by one of his shelves, "He left you this."
Elrond opened the letter studying the words written in the tengwar script in Sindaren, and so it began in its usual enigmatic way:
-My dear Lord Elrond,
I would strongly advise you to stay
within the safety of the borders of
Thranduil's realm and keep Telperiel
close by you. There is a matter at
hand that I must take care of.
I do not wish to trouble you, but
someone seeks to harm her.
Sincerely,
Gandalf the Grey.-
Elrond looked up at Thranduil suddenly, his silver eyes probing. "Has he spoke to you on the matter of the girl?" as he handed the letter to Thranduil for him to read as well.
Thranduil shook his head looking at the short message.
"Nay, he was but here for a moment to tell me of his departure and to send you this message." Elrond looked out to the few scattered clouds that seemed to cast shadows about the stars and moon.
"Who would seek to harm a mortal child and why?" Elrond asked idly looking at the silver crescent.
"Well, if there are any clues that lie in his message they are these." began Thranduil, "Mithrandir fears enough of this person, whoever it is, that he advises you, one of the wisest among elves and strongest to remain in Mirkwood until he settles the matter."
"Then this thing is not a mortal," Elrond agreed, "Perhaps something out of Mordor?" He asked mostly to himself. Thranduil looked bristled at the thought.
"There are enough things from Mordor in this forest already." The golden haired elven-king said grimly. "Already has my own sons taken wounds fending them off from our secret trails and paths. And even if your guess is correct we come back to the same question, my lord, why would it seek a mortal child?"
"I do not know, Thranduil." said Elrond quietly as he got up, "I do not know."
*
By Varda! thought Gandalf in awe as he trudged through the woods clutching only his knarled staff, By Varda 'he' had an heir!
The old wizard spoke not aloud for he was still in the Silvan elves' territory though he knew their watchful eyes and ears would only be reassurance he would pass through the wood in safety for they knew him. But even with their eyes about Gandalf felt a dark presence in the air, and it was that presence that triggered his earlier assumption about the girl Elrond found to be true.
But what witchery has kept her naught but fourteen mortal years of age for she is beyond that? Gandalf shook his head and kept on trudging. Or is the legend of the Ice Dragon true?
Gandalf silently pondered on it. Telperiel was indeed young in face and with child like innoncence and thought, but something was not right about her, and Gandalf had noticed that immediately as soon as she stepped onto Thranduil's ground. It was as if the core of her being had been twisted and changed for her to hold onto her form, moreover it seemed as if she were bound by unseen chains to something dark. And Gandalf was troubled about the darkness that dwelt in the depth of her seemingly bright eyes.
The tongue she spoke was indeed different, and Gandalf could not make it out for it contained elements of the elvish tongue but it was all at once nothing like it. Light as a breeze and lost in the song of the sea were the sounds of her language but Gandalf could make nothing of it. She was capable of learning. That was evident and it seemed to him that she caught on to the elvish tongues and learned to understand them quickly.
She had a gift for it. That much Gandalf was sure. And he could read her heart insofar to know that she trusted Glorfindel and Elrond with her life and she saw both of them as fathers to her and yet her origins, though vague they may be, led to… Gandalf broke off the thought abruptly praying to the Valar that his assumptions, for once, were wrong.
He truly did not wish to see Elrond suffer another pain when he had just found yet another joy beside that of his own children.
But is it 'him'? Gandalf wondered worriedly as he neared the borders that led out of Thranduil's domain into the untamed wood filled with fell creatures.
From far off, yet not so far, he heard a cry in the night.
"Ulairi!" cried an elven voice in vain. Other elven watchers mimicked the cry in warning.
And from the trees, the birds called out in fear, and mourning, and their wings fluttered away swiftly and without hesitation creating waves of dancing shadows in the skies.
"Nazgul." Gandalf muttered feeling an anger shaking from his being. But another feeling rose in him, and he realized, he knew, who this was.
For this was no ordinary Nazgul.
It was him.
And he seeked her…
Gandalf sped himself toward the elves, silently making a vow under his breath.
He would not have her.
*
Five had been slain.
Yet it was a blessed fortune that it had been only five for it could have been more.
Thranduil heard the news with great despair the next morning and Legolas' expression was stricken with sadness, for he had been close to two of them. Elrond and Arcalion of Lothlorien listened to the news with foreboding.
"He came at us with a black fury," reported Daedrin one of the head archers, "A shadow devoid of any light, for light refused to touch him We had shot him thrice with our arrows but he did not fall. His fiery black blade was drawn and he slew Damloth, and Arcum, and then struck out Edelrant." He said mourning in his voice. "Alas! I too had been caught in the snare of the black rider's enchantment! The enemy was going to trample me with his black beast, a horse no longer, for rage ran through its veins and I could not force myself to move. But Elledhmir…" He nearly choked his grief deepening then swallowed down the feeling, "Elledhmir pushed me aside and saved me only to be slain himself." He took in a deep breath before he continued. "Then Meltirion did a daring thing, and jumped from the trees upon the rider's back." a shiver went through him at the memory and the elves about them felt it, "The enemy's horse kicked up its fore legs knocking him off and the rider turned around and stabbed his black blade into his throat…" he trailed off not being able to speak more on the matter.
"And Mithrandir came?" asked Thranduil softly encouraging the archer to speak further. Daedrin nodded.
"Yes, my lord, as if the wind had brought him there to our aid!" He exclaimed, "Had it not been for Mithrandir all the elves in the western borders of the Forest River would have been slain for the rider did not intend to end his slaughter there! Mithrandir appeared before us and with his prayer the winds indeed gave us aid, for the leaves on the floor lifted in a whirlwind attack the rider and eventually he fled at the Grey One's bright gaze." Many of the elves about cheered and gave a bright exclamation at the thought and praise Manwe, Lord of the Winds, for his aid. "But Mithrandir left us warning us that the black rider would return and possibly with a greater fury, he strongly asked you to further fortify the western marches, my lord, for they are now no safer than your eastern ones."
Thranduil exchanged a glance with Elrond, it held no accusation but merely questioning.
"Then the western marches will be fortified at the Grey One's counsel." Thranduil announced, "And none should leave the forest by night any longer without special dictate from myself and my march wardens." He added.
Elrond also knew the underlying message in the dictate was for him and he understood what Thranduil was actually telling him:
'You're not leaving here until Mithrandir returns and until I get answers.'
Elrond sighed inwardly.
When Mithrandir returned, he thought in some irony, a few ages would have come and gone…
*
Telperiel sat in a bed of moss and flowers within one of the many inner gardens of Thranduil's Halls. Glorfindel sat by her fiddling with his harp and singing to her old song with old tales, for it seemed to him that these songs pleased her. a good four hours had passed in the morning and he was becoming more satisfied that she seemed to catch on to the songs and sing them as well with her voice, and her voice was fair for that of as mortal girl. When they had finished singing part of the Lay of Earendil she focused her blind sight to him, though truly she was focusing on the origin of his voice, and then blinked twice.
"Glorfindel, where is Vanarie?" she asked suddenly.
Glorfindel almost dropped his harp hearing her speak clear Sindaren. He blinked at her, but of course she did not notice that for her blindness prevented her from doing so.
"He is at a council of Thranduil's, discussing important things." Glorfindel said slowly wondering how much else she knew.
"oh." she said simply and leaned back against one of the greater elm trees. Glorfindel studied her for a moment.
"Do you understand me, Telperiel?" he finally asked. A smile touched her lips.
"Yes, Glorfindel," she said her voice its usual chanting quiet, "I understand you."
Glorfindel gaped at her. She had learned to speak Sindaren in less than a day.
"How…?" He began not sure where to begin his questioning.
"By song." She replied, "I can learn things by song." She added more quietly, "Only if you sing it may I learn it."
"Why?"
The girl's face turned to concern and slight sadness.
"I don't know. It has always been that way." She told him, "Before there was blackness. Then I could sing."
Oh dear Elbereth, thought Glorfindel but he was suddenly joyous that he would communicate with her, Elrond must see this!
He put down his harp and took her up by the hands.
"I think, Vanarie, as you call him, will be glad to finally be able to speak to you, little nimloth." Glorfindel told her.
She laughed light heartedly.
"And I would be happy to speak to him as well!"
*
Elrond was walking about the halls alone after the council, deep in thought when Glorfindel decided to interrupt them.
"Elrond! Elrond! You must hear this!" came his voice from around the corner.
"Elrond? Is that his name? But now I am confused, Glorfindel, for I thought he was Vanarie!" came another voice that Elrond knew well. He stopped mid step as Glorfindel led her to him. Her unfocused eyes searching about. Did he hear her correctly? Or was it merely a phantom if his thought speaking?
"Vanarie?" She asked. Elrond studied her. She seemed at once happy and surprised but also lost and confused.
"You can speak our tongue?" Elrond asked her still surprised. She smiled brightly at him and jumped into his embrace.
"Indeed, but your friend calls you Elrond, I thought you were Vanarie… your face is much like his." She said a complicated look passing her features. Once more she reached up to his face simply to make sure, "Yes, you are Vanarie…" Elrond simply stared into her lost silver eyes for the longest moment as Glorfindel attempted to gush out some explanation.
"She told me she can learn things through song," said Glorfindel, "She remembers nothing of her past but remembers that she could sing."
Elrond swallowed absorbing what he had just heard but felt utterly confused as well.
"Telperiel, I am not Vanarie. Who is Vanarie, and what does that word mean?" He asked her in a calm and patient voice. She frowned attempting to focus her thoughts but seemed all the more confused than he was.
"Well… he…" she stopped gathering herself, "Vanarie means 'Shining One,' he came to me when I was little… I remember him… it was in the rain… when we were lost, in the darkness… and he saved me.. from…" she stopped knitting her brow as if in confusion of thought and memory, "His other name is… is…" she paused as if trying to recall,
"Elros."
At this, both Glorfindel and Elrond gaped in disbelief.
*
AN: aren't these short chapters killing you? more to come. promise. but I think your wishing to hard for a happy ending…