NOTE: melockerty and klaw, thanks so much for the reviews. I thought no one
was reading at all, but thanks so much, I'm glad your interested, as I read
over my story it seems so much more uninteresting to me that I'm really
glad people like it. Thanks!
S-NOTE: Naneth= mother Adar/Ada= father Sell Nîn= my daughter sorry I didn't specify that in the previous chap.
TOGETHER AGAIN: 3
The clanging of swords and the shuffling of feet were more than enough to make Maethoriel incredibly impatient. She had been quietly waiting for her brother and Anárion to finish up their contest, as they had given their words that she would be the next challenger of the winner of the fight. Maethoriel knew this was useless, however, for both fought with the same amount of extraordinary talent, and going into a friendly combat with each other would prove to end in a tie.
Despite her gender, Maethoriel fought just as well as her brother and any other man for that matter. Her features were the ones most resembling her father's. The shape of her eyes almost identical to Aragorn's, only brown in color, her hair the same wavy texture, only longer in length and her skin the same shade of her father's, as opposed to the pale fairness of Arwen's. She was the shortest of the four siblings, but she had strength within her arms, and to many of her challengers she seemed weak due to the misguidance of her stature.
Both boys seemed to be enjoying themselves, however, never getting bored with the redundant strikes and counter strikes each one individually handed to the other. Just as it felt that they were going into the third hour of the match, Maethoriel saw her sisters walk in, and their good friend close behind. Immediately she stood and walked towards them to welcomingly greet them.
"Maethoriel." her eldest sister called as Amdiriel spotted her coming towards them.
Maethoriel only let a smile creep across her face as a response.
"How long have they been like that?" Nestor asked, motioning towards their male guest and their brother Eldarion.
Maethoriel turned to give a quick glance at the two, and shrugged her shoulders, rolling her eyes as she did, illustrating her loss of patience due to the unending length of their deadlocked shuffle. She then acknowledge Arodiel's presence, and immediately gave her a warm hug, as if to say how much she had missed her in the last month, for Maethoriel had been away the most recent time Arodiel came to visit.
"Maethoriel, it's so good to see you well." Arodiel spoke, as the two parted.
Maethoriel nodded in full agreement. She scanned beyond the grounds, in the direction behind the three girls, as if looking for someone. She gave a look of confusion to Amdiriel, and her sister knew what she questioned.
"Laurelas stayed behind. Adar had requested he meet him in his study, for he wanted to speak with him."
Maethoriel nodded to show she understood. It was times when friends had come to visit that made Maethoriel really regret she had no speech. But she knew she should not complain, for it was of her own stupidity, as she wishes to put it, which had lost her her voice in the first place. As the story goes, she had fallen in love, or so she thought she had. Young and naïve, she jumped eyes closed into the relationship she thought was so incredibly real. Her family strongly disapproved, her father the strongest, when she announced that she would wed. But Maethoriel, blinded by love, risked her honor in order to prove her newfound love. "If our love grows sour, then by the Valar may I never speak another word again!" she cried. Little did she know that the Valar would take her up on her offer, and a curse was placed upon the young girl, that she had brought upon her own soul, for her lover met someone else only two weeks before the wedding, and pleaded to Maethoriel his case that he "deeply loved" his new maiden, but that he would never forget Maethoriel. And so she was left in her own shameful silence that she had regretted every day since, but it was the irreplaceable pain that she had caused her parents that she lamented for the most, for they might never have the chance to hear their daughter speak again.
"Maethoriel? You okay?" Nestor asked, noticing her sister's trance state.
Maethoriel turned to Nestor and nodded with a smile, as if saying that everything was all right. Just then Eldarion and Anárion came to the company, clearly tired from the battle so vigorously fought. Anárion greeted his sister, as Eldarion turned to his own.
"Maethoriel, I'm afraid we can't keep our words, for the fight has ended in a draw." Eldarion spoke to her, with regret in his tone.
The girl sighed disappointingly, as the group began to head back to the castle.
ELSEWHERE.
Laurelas was wandering through Aragorn's study, examining little artifacts that decorated the room. He patiently waited for the man he came to know as a father, and wondered what it was Aragorn needed to speak to him about. The doors then swung open, and in walked the king of Gondor himself, as Laurelas stood up immediately ro show respect and bowed his head humbly.
"My apologies Laurelas, I didn't mean to keep you."
"No, no it's of no trouble. I'm more anxious to know what it is you needed to speak to me about. It must be of importance, since clearly you wished not to speak of it on our trip to Ithilian."
"Yes, it is. Laurelas, before my own eyes you are growing to become an exceptionally good man, and I think that now is the time I give you something."
Aragorn walked to a bookshelf, and pushed it aside with his own two hands. Behind it, was an object wrapped in cloth, though Laurelas was clueless as to what it could be.
"Here. Open it."
The boy obeyed, and unwrapped the cloth to reveal a beautifully carved bow, and arrows that matched the beauty of the bow. Laurelas was in awe, as he had never received such an extraordinary gift before.
"It's elvish, Laurelas. The detailed carvings were done by elves. I ask that you be careful with it, for it is somewhat of a relic. But I figure the piece will match the beauty of your natural skill."
"I cannot accept it Aragorn." The boy said with genuine regret. Despite the fact that indeed, the bow would compliment his skill, he wanted nothing to do with the elvish race.
Aragorn let out a sigh. "Laurelas, when will you let go of your hate?"
"I cannot, Aragorn. I cannot put my faith in them. If it had not been for the lady Arwen, then I would not have a shred of doubt about not trusting them, but even she ultimately chose the race of men. I want nothing to do with them," he said ignorantly. He began to walk out, but Aragorn grabbed his arm, firmly keeping him in place.
"Do not let one experience blind your judgment. Blaming a race for one person's mistake is not justifiable, Laurelas."
"Then I accept the bow, Aragorn. But I only change my opinion on the elves, but not of Legolas. Accepting the bow doesn't change my hate for him," he said harshly.
"Enough!" Aragorn cried, raising his voice in a commanding tone. "You will not speak of your father that way, do you understand me? He is my good friend, with a good heart and I pray that one day you will come to your senses and see that. Forgive him Laurelas, free yourself from this pain you cause yourself."
As if in retaliation Laurelas had raised his own voice. "It is not I who causes my heart pain but him! He left me Aragorn, and he let my mother die! That is what you call a man with a good heart?"
"You do not know the whole story." Aragorn said simply.
"Then tell me!" the boy cried pleadingly. " I've asked you before but you say you cannot. You are bound by a promise is always your answer."
Aragorn could only sigh and lay his head low, for he was still bound to that one promise. Laurelas shook his head in disappointment, taking the bow in his hand and silently walking out of the room, closing the doors behind him. Moments later the doors reopened, to reveal that Arwen had entered the room.
"What is it, Estel?"
"It's Laurelas. The boy is hurting and I feel I am causing his pain. But I promised not to tell him, it was his mother's dying wish. If only I knew where Legolas was, if only he had stayed in Ithilian. Maybe I could have told him he has a son."
"The truth will come out soon enough, but Laurelas is strong, determined. I think the opinion of Arodiel will prove I am right," she joked, hoping it would lift his spirit a little, and it did, as Aragorn chuckled lightly.
"What is it you wanted to speak to me of?"
Her expression changed completely, as the smile on Arwen's face dissolved as she spoke.
"It's about Amdiriel. She dreams of my grandmother. Galadriel spoke to her. I am worried, Estel. She says blood will be shed, that Amdiriel will rise with a son of elves. What can this mean?"
Stammering, "I.I do not know" he replied, completely shocked, trying desperately to hide the worry within his eyes.
LATER THAT DAY
Eldarion had wondered off into the palace gardens. He didn't know why, but he felt the gardens call to him. No matter how much he aged, he felt he could always come back to the serenity their gardens offered. Often Eldarion contemplated how his life would be different if he wasn't the son of king Elessar. He meant no offense; he only wondered what he would be, where he would be, had he not happen to be an heir to Gondor. Though he felt like being Aragorn's son dictated many of his natural characteristics. With physical form he resembled his mother. His stature was lean and his hair and eyes the same shade of Arwen's. But his mannerisms and his skill with the sword closely resembled Aragorn's. Many thought Eldarion would become a ranger like his father had, but Eldarion knew that would likely be impossible for him to do, and in truth the profession never really appealed to him.
As he walked deeper into the rows of blossoms, he spotted his golden haired sister sitting by one of the two ponds that was in the garden. He walked up to her, and laughed lightly as he saw her on her knees with her hand extended fingering the water's surface.
"So, it is true, you do spend a lot of time here."
Amdiriel turned to see her brother smiling at her.
"Yes, I suppose I do now. But what brings you here?"
"I don't know really. You can say something called me here."
"Is that so? Well you're welcome to join me."
"You are so kind," he said sarcastically, as he had taken a seat next to his sister.
Hope you liked it. Well, I've finished giving introductions to the main characters. Now I can hopefully get into the plot more. Please review! If you feel like my story can use some help then that's welcome too!! Thanks again to those who did post before! (
S-NOTE: Naneth= mother Adar/Ada= father Sell Nîn= my daughter sorry I didn't specify that in the previous chap.
TOGETHER AGAIN: 3
The clanging of swords and the shuffling of feet were more than enough to make Maethoriel incredibly impatient. She had been quietly waiting for her brother and Anárion to finish up their contest, as they had given their words that she would be the next challenger of the winner of the fight. Maethoriel knew this was useless, however, for both fought with the same amount of extraordinary talent, and going into a friendly combat with each other would prove to end in a tie.
Despite her gender, Maethoriel fought just as well as her brother and any other man for that matter. Her features were the ones most resembling her father's. The shape of her eyes almost identical to Aragorn's, only brown in color, her hair the same wavy texture, only longer in length and her skin the same shade of her father's, as opposed to the pale fairness of Arwen's. She was the shortest of the four siblings, but she had strength within her arms, and to many of her challengers she seemed weak due to the misguidance of her stature.
Both boys seemed to be enjoying themselves, however, never getting bored with the redundant strikes and counter strikes each one individually handed to the other. Just as it felt that they were going into the third hour of the match, Maethoriel saw her sisters walk in, and their good friend close behind. Immediately she stood and walked towards them to welcomingly greet them.
"Maethoriel." her eldest sister called as Amdiriel spotted her coming towards them.
Maethoriel only let a smile creep across her face as a response.
"How long have they been like that?" Nestor asked, motioning towards their male guest and their brother Eldarion.
Maethoriel turned to give a quick glance at the two, and shrugged her shoulders, rolling her eyes as she did, illustrating her loss of patience due to the unending length of their deadlocked shuffle. She then acknowledge Arodiel's presence, and immediately gave her a warm hug, as if to say how much she had missed her in the last month, for Maethoriel had been away the most recent time Arodiel came to visit.
"Maethoriel, it's so good to see you well." Arodiel spoke, as the two parted.
Maethoriel nodded in full agreement. She scanned beyond the grounds, in the direction behind the three girls, as if looking for someone. She gave a look of confusion to Amdiriel, and her sister knew what she questioned.
"Laurelas stayed behind. Adar had requested he meet him in his study, for he wanted to speak with him."
Maethoriel nodded to show she understood. It was times when friends had come to visit that made Maethoriel really regret she had no speech. But she knew she should not complain, for it was of her own stupidity, as she wishes to put it, which had lost her her voice in the first place. As the story goes, she had fallen in love, or so she thought she had. Young and naïve, she jumped eyes closed into the relationship she thought was so incredibly real. Her family strongly disapproved, her father the strongest, when she announced that she would wed. But Maethoriel, blinded by love, risked her honor in order to prove her newfound love. "If our love grows sour, then by the Valar may I never speak another word again!" she cried. Little did she know that the Valar would take her up on her offer, and a curse was placed upon the young girl, that she had brought upon her own soul, for her lover met someone else only two weeks before the wedding, and pleaded to Maethoriel his case that he "deeply loved" his new maiden, but that he would never forget Maethoriel. And so she was left in her own shameful silence that she had regretted every day since, but it was the irreplaceable pain that she had caused her parents that she lamented for the most, for they might never have the chance to hear their daughter speak again.
"Maethoriel? You okay?" Nestor asked, noticing her sister's trance state.
Maethoriel turned to Nestor and nodded with a smile, as if saying that everything was all right. Just then Eldarion and Anárion came to the company, clearly tired from the battle so vigorously fought. Anárion greeted his sister, as Eldarion turned to his own.
"Maethoriel, I'm afraid we can't keep our words, for the fight has ended in a draw." Eldarion spoke to her, with regret in his tone.
The girl sighed disappointingly, as the group began to head back to the castle.
ELSEWHERE.
Laurelas was wandering through Aragorn's study, examining little artifacts that decorated the room. He patiently waited for the man he came to know as a father, and wondered what it was Aragorn needed to speak to him about. The doors then swung open, and in walked the king of Gondor himself, as Laurelas stood up immediately ro show respect and bowed his head humbly.
"My apologies Laurelas, I didn't mean to keep you."
"No, no it's of no trouble. I'm more anxious to know what it is you needed to speak to me about. It must be of importance, since clearly you wished not to speak of it on our trip to Ithilian."
"Yes, it is. Laurelas, before my own eyes you are growing to become an exceptionally good man, and I think that now is the time I give you something."
Aragorn walked to a bookshelf, and pushed it aside with his own two hands. Behind it, was an object wrapped in cloth, though Laurelas was clueless as to what it could be.
"Here. Open it."
The boy obeyed, and unwrapped the cloth to reveal a beautifully carved bow, and arrows that matched the beauty of the bow. Laurelas was in awe, as he had never received such an extraordinary gift before.
"It's elvish, Laurelas. The detailed carvings were done by elves. I ask that you be careful with it, for it is somewhat of a relic. But I figure the piece will match the beauty of your natural skill."
"I cannot accept it Aragorn." The boy said with genuine regret. Despite the fact that indeed, the bow would compliment his skill, he wanted nothing to do with the elvish race.
Aragorn let out a sigh. "Laurelas, when will you let go of your hate?"
"I cannot, Aragorn. I cannot put my faith in them. If it had not been for the lady Arwen, then I would not have a shred of doubt about not trusting them, but even she ultimately chose the race of men. I want nothing to do with them," he said ignorantly. He began to walk out, but Aragorn grabbed his arm, firmly keeping him in place.
"Do not let one experience blind your judgment. Blaming a race for one person's mistake is not justifiable, Laurelas."
"Then I accept the bow, Aragorn. But I only change my opinion on the elves, but not of Legolas. Accepting the bow doesn't change my hate for him," he said harshly.
"Enough!" Aragorn cried, raising his voice in a commanding tone. "You will not speak of your father that way, do you understand me? He is my good friend, with a good heart and I pray that one day you will come to your senses and see that. Forgive him Laurelas, free yourself from this pain you cause yourself."
As if in retaliation Laurelas had raised his own voice. "It is not I who causes my heart pain but him! He left me Aragorn, and he let my mother die! That is what you call a man with a good heart?"
"You do not know the whole story." Aragorn said simply.
"Then tell me!" the boy cried pleadingly. " I've asked you before but you say you cannot. You are bound by a promise is always your answer."
Aragorn could only sigh and lay his head low, for he was still bound to that one promise. Laurelas shook his head in disappointment, taking the bow in his hand and silently walking out of the room, closing the doors behind him. Moments later the doors reopened, to reveal that Arwen had entered the room.
"What is it, Estel?"
"It's Laurelas. The boy is hurting and I feel I am causing his pain. But I promised not to tell him, it was his mother's dying wish. If only I knew where Legolas was, if only he had stayed in Ithilian. Maybe I could have told him he has a son."
"The truth will come out soon enough, but Laurelas is strong, determined. I think the opinion of Arodiel will prove I am right," she joked, hoping it would lift his spirit a little, and it did, as Aragorn chuckled lightly.
"What is it you wanted to speak to me of?"
Her expression changed completely, as the smile on Arwen's face dissolved as she spoke.
"It's about Amdiriel. She dreams of my grandmother. Galadriel spoke to her. I am worried, Estel. She says blood will be shed, that Amdiriel will rise with a son of elves. What can this mean?"
Stammering, "I.I do not know" he replied, completely shocked, trying desperately to hide the worry within his eyes.
LATER THAT DAY
Eldarion had wondered off into the palace gardens. He didn't know why, but he felt the gardens call to him. No matter how much he aged, he felt he could always come back to the serenity their gardens offered. Often Eldarion contemplated how his life would be different if he wasn't the son of king Elessar. He meant no offense; he only wondered what he would be, where he would be, had he not happen to be an heir to Gondor. Though he felt like being Aragorn's son dictated many of his natural characteristics. With physical form he resembled his mother. His stature was lean and his hair and eyes the same shade of Arwen's. But his mannerisms and his skill with the sword closely resembled Aragorn's. Many thought Eldarion would become a ranger like his father had, but Eldarion knew that would likely be impossible for him to do, and in truth the profession never really appealed to him.
As he walked deeper into the rows of blossoms, he spotted his golden haired sister sitting by one of the two ponds that was in the garden. He walked up to her, and laughed lightly as he saw her on her knees with her hand extended fingering the water's surface.
"So, it is true, you do spend a lot of time here."
Amdiriel turned to see her brother smiling at her.
"Yes, I suppose I do now. But what brings you here?"
"I don't know really. You can say something called me here."
"Is that so? Well you're welcome to join me."
"You are so kind," he said sarcastically, as he had taken a seat next to his sister.
Hope you liked it. Well, I've finished giving introductions to the main characters. Now I can hopefully get into the plot more. Please review! If you feel like my story can use some help then that's welcome too!! Thanks again to those who did post before! (
