Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any recognizable characters
and/or places thereof.
MaverickGirl: Thanks!
Bluejeansbaby: Thanks, and that song is awesome!
MusicGirl: If you can't see the story, how can you believe it? Visuals matter more than most people realize. Addaliel's story may be sad for a while yet.
Alarielle: Why she's not talking will be explained later, but for now suffice to say she has her reasons. By the end of the story, you'll know them.
Littlesaiyangirl: Will try to.
Obi-Zahn Kenobi: I wasn't, thanks. Half off is quite good enough, as far as I'm concerned, and if my calculations were a little incorrect, oh well. As for twins, it really does annoy me that you would say that. As a twin myself, I have seen that just because two people grow up in the same environment, come from the same egg even, does not mean they will be the same. "Rather illogical" as you may call it, life is not science. It's not Sindarin. There are at least four different Elvish words for mother, and I just chose one. Ion-nin was what I used for "my son". As for putting more effort into it, um, excuse me, I have what's called a life? Football practice, chores, school? I used one site as a resource and it seems to have worked just fine. As for learning English better, that is NOT a comment one should make out of the blue. If you can justify it I don't mind, but you don't seem to care about that.
Author's Note: I forgot to mention last chapter that I know Arwen was older when her mum went to Valinor, but I changed it for the purposes of this story.
*****
Addaliel's Perspective
*****
When Lady Galadriel arrived, Ada told Arwen and I, "You two have never met Lady Galadriel before, but she is your mother's mother." Arwen shouted some gleeful and happy thing, and threw her arms around the Lady. I did not, for I did not fully trust her. Some foreign essence surrounded her, and I was wary of it. Galadriel spoke to Arwen in a manner I at once despised her for: condescending and sugary-sweet. Arwen gushed, loving our grandmother at once.
In this moment I realized that my father no longer loved me. He looked at me with a question and a command in his eyes, but I held back. I was not the daughter he wanted, the docile little lamb that Arwen was. I was defected, broken. I was a bad daughter, and my father was ashamed of me. Let him be, an angry voice said. He does not understand.
Elladan approached me. "Hey, little sister! Have you been well?" he asked cheerfully. I smiled at him. Elladan lifted me in the air and spun me around, then hugged me and set me on the ground again. He was still the same to me, the same as when I lost my voice and the same as before Atara left. I smiled wider at my brother and hugged him tightly. He ruffled my hair.
"And who is this little one?" asked an airy, over-friendly voice.
"Dell--" this was Elladan's nickname for me, "say hello, yeah?" Elladan suggest. I tightened my hold on him and buried my face in his pant leg, knowing I was young enough to get away with this. Elladan knelt while gently pulling my arms away. "Hey, you know better, Addaliel." He looked me in the eye, and my rebellion melted. I turned to the Lady and curtsied, bowing my head.
"Hello, child. What is your name?" Galadriel asked. I began to gnaw on my lip and shook my head. "I asked you a question," Galadriel said, her voice taking a dangerous tone, "and it would be polite to answer it."
"Addaliel has not a voice, grandmother," Elladan said. "I am sure my father has told you as much?" His voice had taken a similar tone, and I knew he was being the big brother just then. Perhaps the only time he sobered was when he was defending one of his younger siblings.
"Of course, how silly of me to forget." Galadriel and Elladan were battling now, their eyes locked and their tones equally menacing. I did not fully understand, but I saw beads of sweat appear on my brothers forehead before the Lady showed signs of being anything but relaxed. I knew that this was my chance to return the favor to my brother. If only I could shout to draw their attention away from each other!
Instead I lunged, embracing my grandmother as Arwen had done. Both of them looked down at me in shock. "Well, hello," she say cheerfully. I had pleased her. I had disappointed myself.
Every second was a battle of wills. Galadriel rose to any challenge, matching Elladan and myself in stubbornness. I hated her thoroughly by the last night of her visit, and was doing my best to avoid her. That day was cold, so I sat in the library by the fire and read until my eyes hurt, then I went to sleep.
I dreamed of my mother. In my dream, I saw her being tortured by the Orcs. They burned her and hit her. I wanted to reach out to her, to save her, to shoo the orcs away, but I was frozen in place. Mother cried out in pain, begging for help, and I wept that I could not help her.
I was thrashing about when I awoke, weeping and sweating heavily. Throwing the sheet off my body, I went to find Ada--maybe he no longer loved me as a daughter, and maybe he never had, but at least he would emptily complete the motions of comforting me. What I had not expected, however, was that Galadriel would find me in the hall. When I saw her coming I sank into the shadows, but to no good.
"My dear child, what are you doing?" she asked, placing a hand on my shoulder blades and drawing me forward. "What happened?" All I could do in response was sniff and shake my head, wishing I could fling away my tears. "Did you have a night terror?" she asked, and I nodded, shame-faced. "That is nothing to be ashamed of, child! You are yet young." She held me for a moment, then released me. To my surprise I did not want her to let me go. "Would you like me to get your Adar for you?" I shook my head fervently. "All right then," she said with a curious nod, and she lifted me in her arms. I was surprised, for she had not appeared strong, but she sure seemed it.
After laying me down in my bed and pulling the sheets over me, Galadriel bade me good night and turned to go. I grabbed her hand unconsciously. She looked back at me, surprised, then knelt beside the bed. It occurred to me that Galadriel had been an Atara, as well, for she knew just what to do to calm me. She petted my forehead and spoke softly. After a time she said, "Addaliel, tomorrow Arwen is accompanying me back to my home of Lothlorien. Will you come with us? The choice is yours to make."
*****
.
.
.
.
.
Author's Note: Short chapter, I know. Sorry! So, what does everybody want her to do? Lothlorien, or Imladris? It's up to you! I'll try to have the next one done quicker.
MaverickGirl: Thanks!
Bluejeansbaby: Thanks, and that song is awesome!
MusicGirl: If you can't see the story, how can you believe it? Visuals matter more than most people realize. Addaliel's story may be sad for a while yet.
Alarielle: Why she's not talking will be explained later, but for now suffice to say she has her reasons. By the end of the story, you'll know them.
Littlesaiyangirl: Will try to.
Obi-Zahn Kenobi: I wasn't, thanks. Half off is quite good enough, as far as I'm concerned, and if my calculations were a little incorrect, oh well. As for twins, it really does annoy me that you would say that. As a twin myself, I have seen that just because two people grow up in the same environment, come from the same egg even, does not mean they will be the same. "Rather illogical" as you may call it, life is not science. It's not Sindarin. There are at least four different Elvish words for mother, and I just chose one. Ion-nin was what I used for "my son". As for putting more effort into it, um, excuse me, I have what's called a life? Football practice, chores, school? I used one site as a resource and it seems to have worked just fine. As for learning English better, that is NOT a comment one should make out of the blue. If you can justify it I don't mind, but you don't seem to care about that.
Author's Note: I forgot to mention last chapter that I know Arwen was older when her mum went to Valinor, but I changed it for the purposes of this story.
*****
Addaliel's Perspective
*****
When Lady Galadriel arrived, Ada told Arwen and I, "You two have never met Lady Galadriel before, but she is your mother's mother." Arwen shouted some gleeful and happy thing, and threw her arms around the Lady. I did not, for I did not fully trust her. Some foreign essence surrounded her, and I was wary of it. Galadriel spoke to Arwen in a manner I at once despised her for: condescending and sugary-sweet. Arwen gushed, loving our grandmother at once.
In this moment I realized that my father no longer loved me. He looked at me with a question and a command in his eyes, but I held back. I was not the daughter he wanted, the docile little lamb that Arwen was. I was defected, broken. I was a bad daughter, and my father was ashamed of me. Let him be, an angry voice said. He does not understand.
Elladan approached me. "Hey, little sister! Have you been well?" he asked cheerfully. I smiled at him. Elladan lifted me in the air and spun me around, then hugged me and set me on the ground again. He was still the same to me, the same as when I lost my voice and the same as before Atara left. I smiled wider at my brother and hugged him tightly. He ruffled my hair.
"And who is this little one?" asked an airy, over-friendly voice.
"Dell--" this was Elladan's nickname for me, "say hello, yeah?" Elladan suggest. I tightened my hold on him and buried my face in his pant leg, knowing I was young enough to get away with this. Elladan knelt while gently pulling my arms away. "Hey, you know better, Addaliel." He looked me in the eye, and my rebellion melted. I turned to the Lady and curtsied, bowing my head.
"Hello, child. What is your name?" Galadriel asked. I began to gnaw on my lip and shook my head. "I asked you a question," Galadriel said, her voice taking a dangerous tone, "and it would be polite to answer it."
"Addaliel has not a voice, grandmother," Elladan said. "I am sure my father has told you as much?" His voice had taken a similar tone, and I knew he was being the big brother just then. Perhaps the only time he sobered was when he was defending one of his younger siblings.
"Of course, how silly of me to forget." Galadriel and Elladan were battling now, their eyes locked and their tones equally menacing. I did not fully understand, but I saw beads of sweat appear on my brothers forehead before the Lady showed signs of being anything but relaxed. I knew that this was my chance to return the favor to my brother. If only I could shout to draw their attention away from each other!
Instead I lunged, embracing my grandmother as Arwen had done. Both of them looked down at me in shock. "Well, hello," she say cheerfully. I had pleased her. I had disappointed myself.
Every second was a battle of wills. Galadriel rose to any challenge, matching Elladan and myself in stubbornness. I hated her thoroughly by the last night of her visit, and was doing my best to avoid her. That day was cold, so I sat in the library by the fire and read until my eyes hurt, then I went to sleep.
I dreamed of my mother. In my dream, I saw her being tortured by the Orcs. They burned her and hit her. I wanted to reach out to her, to save her, to shoo the orcs away, but I was frozen in place. Mother cried out in pain, begging for help, and I wept that I could not help her.
I was thrashing about when I awoke, weeping and sweating heavily. Throwing the sheet off my body, I went to find Ada--maybe he no longer loved me as a daughter, and maybe he never had, but at least he would emptily complete the motions of comforting me. What I had not expected, however, was that Galadriel would find me in the hall. When I saw her coming I sank into the shadows, but to no good.
"My dear child, what are you doing?" she asked, placing a hand on my shoulder blades and drawing me forward. "What happened?" All I could do in response was sniff and shake my head, wishing I could fling away my tears. "Did you have a night terror?" she asked, and I nodded, shame-faced. "That is nothing to be ashamed of, child! You are yet young." She held me for a moment, then released me. To my surprise I did not want her to let me go. "Would you like me to get your Adar for you?" I shook my head fervently. "All right then," she said with a curious nod, and she lifted me in her arms. I was surprised, for she had not appeared strong, but she sure seemed it.
After laying me down in my bed and pulling the sheets over me, Galadriel bade me good night and turned to go. I grabbed her hand unconsciously. She looked back at me, surprised, then knelt beside the bed. It occurred to me that Galadriel had been an Atara, as well, for she knew just what to do to calm me. She petted my forehead and spoke softly. After a time she said, "Addaliel, tomorrow Arwen is accompanying me back to my home of Lothlorien. Will you come with us? The choice is yours to make."
*****
.
.
.
.
.
Author's Note: Short chapter, I know. Sorry! So, what does everybody want her to do? Lothlorien, or Imladris? It's up to you! I'll try to have the next one done quicker.
