Thanks to my very first reviewer, The Hobbit Ivy, for her inspiring review!
And now, onward to.
Chapter Two: A Journey
Suddenly, Lostiathwen was alert and bursting with questions. "Why is she passing on the ring?"
Elrond just shook his head slowly. "You'll have to ask her that. Her message was not specific; she only said that she wishes to see you."
As the princess struggled to digest this, Arwen slipped quietly out onto the balcony, curious. She had already been alerted of the upcoming journey. Arwen Evenstar was an ethereal Elven beauty; her skin was as white and unblemished as porcelain, and her long raven hair was her best feature. Lostiathwen had always envied her older cousin. She had inherited the fair looks of Galadriel's side of the family; she was sometimes mistaken for a Mirkwood elf. Arwen possessed typical Rivendell traits.
"But.why isn't the ring going to be Arwen's?" Lostiathwen blurted out.
Elrond considered, locking eyes with his daughter. "I have a feeling that it is due to the fact that Arwen may not sail for Valinor. If she marries Aragorn, she may be the wife of the king of men. Nenya (the ring of the adamant) is much too powerful for a human, even one with Elven blood.
Still, she was confused. Galadriel had raised Arwen for a time; surely Arwen was her favorite of the cousins? And what of Elladan and Elrohir, Arwen's twin brothers? They, too, would depart for the Undying Lands when the One Ring was destroyed. Lostiathwen bit her lip, thinking of the untapped power she would wield on her finger. There were three Elven rings of power, each forged by Sauron, as was the One Ring. They could be used to keep peaceful reign, as Galadriel had in Lothlorien, the Golden Wood, for centuries. But the rings could also be used for evil. Galadriel had never been tempted to use the ring as an instrument of evil. Could Lostiathwen do the same?
One thing was for certain: Galadriel had great faith in Lostiathwen's intelligence and common sense. Though Lostiathwen was not her biological granddaughter, Galadriel had adopted Arwen's cousin as her own grandchild. The two Elven princesses had spent many content childhood days in Lothlorien. The Wood was their second home; the trip was unexpected, but not unwelcomed.
* * * Lostiathwen and Arwen were to leave the next morning. Elrond had been correct about one thing-his niece forgot about her Legolas preoccupation during her preparations. There was much to do. Legolas entered her mind only once, fleetingly, when she realized that her journey would bring her closer to him. The trip to Lothlorien was trying, even for seasoned travelers. Lostiathwen knew she must pack sparingly. She would wear her forest green traveling cloak and tuck most of her necessities into its pockets. When she was certain she had packed adequately, she decided to take a long walk to soothe her frazzled nerves. She felt that she had changed, just in the course of that day. The fate of Middle-earth no longer seemed certain. Now, instead of sailing for the safety of the Grey Havens, she would have to make a dangerous journey away from Rivendell and all that was familiar.
Lostiathwen silently left her chamber and walked out into the woods. She was startled to find the sun already setting; since Elrond had broken the news, her day had become a flurry of preparations. She strolled amongst the majestic trees and sang a song about nightfall. When the Elf reached a clearing, she saw Arwen sitting in the brilliant green grass, crying softly. She paused, aching for her cousin, but had no way to understand her anguish. She worried about Legolas, but Legolas was not in love with her. Most likely, he knew nothing of her existance.
Arwen had clearly gone to the clearing seeking solitude, which was difficult to attain in the house of Elrond. Lostiathwen decided that it would be wise to avoid disturbing her. She continued on her way. Her heart felt heavy and tender as she thought of Arwen's predicament. What would she do if she and Legolas were in love, but could not be together? The dilemma was not new to her; Lostiathwen's half-Elven father had faced similar decisions when her married her mother, a noble Elven princess. The elf wondered if she would ever reunite with her father. Uncle Elrond had been an adequate and loving surrogate father. Yet, he could never replace his brother.
Weighed down by so many burdens, Lostiathwen was suddenly exhausted. She turned around to walk back to Rivendell. Elves do not sleep as mortals do, but they need quiet rest all the same. By the time she reached her bed, she was so weary that she could no longer contemplate anything. She knew nothing else until Arwen woke her up in the grey light before dawn the next morning.
* * * "Dear cousin, it's time to get up!" Lostiathwen blinked, barely recognizing Arwen's sweet voice. Arwen stood over her bed, holding their traveling cloaks. Lostiathwen stifled a yawn and roused herself, donning the cloak. Her mind raced with thoughts of worry and apprehension as she followed Arwen to Elrond's chamber. Her jade eyes drank in every aspect of the house as they walked; she would miss the only home she had ever known.
Elrond was as serious as he'd been while deciding the fate of the Ring. "Your horses are saddled and waiting for you, children," he said. "I know you've made this journey before, but this time I worry for your safety. There is evil between Rivendell and Lothlorien, thought both are safe for now. I would like to give you these to help protect yourselves."
Elrond presented each woman with a beautiful Elven sword. The polished silver of the weapons gleamed with a deadly glow in the light of the rising sun. The cousins admired the swords; Arwen was adept at using swords and daggers, and Lostiathwen had been trained in archery and throwing knives. Neither had ever owned such a formidable weapon.
Elrond put a rough hand on each of their shoulders. His eyes were closed, reflecting his inner worry and fear. "Use them wisely, with a steady hand," he finally advised. "I wish there were time to train you both in using them, but I trust your skill and judgement."
The Elves walked out to the stables together. Arwen's and Lostiathwen's twin white mares, Snow Lilly and Frost, waited patiently outside, munching grass. Elrond watched his daughter and niece mount their horses, the deep sadness of thousands of years showing in his eyes. Lostiathwen could practically read his thoughts-if he'd convinced Isildur to destroy the Ring so many years ago, his loved ones would not have to leave home. The ring would only be a memory, and Galadriel's Nenya would be powerless. Elrond fingered his own ring of power and sighed audibly.
"Go safely," he said firmly, "and be careful. You two are the youngest of the high Elves who remain on Middle-earth, but mostly importantly, you are my daughters." Lostiathwen started at his use of the term "daugher", but Elrond's met hers as well as Arwen's. "Naamarie."
* * * The cousins rode along in silence for awhile, until Arwen spoke. "I know what's been troubling you."
"What do you mean?" Lostiathwen's visions of Legolas seemed too personal for Arwen to possibly suspect.
Arwen smiled. "About your wood elf, Legolas. I, too, have had a dream."
Chapter Two: A Journey
Suddenly, Lostiathwen was alert and bursting with questions. "Why is she passing on the ring?"
Elrond just shook his head slowly. "You'll have to ask her that. Her message was not specific; she only said that she wishes to see you."
As the princess struggled to digest this, Arwen slipped quietly out onto the balcony, curious. She had already been alerted of the upcoming journey. Arwen Evenstar was an ethereal Elven beauty; her skin was as white and unblemished as porcelain, and her long raven hair was her best feature. Lostiathwen had always envied her older cousin. She had inherited the fair looks of Galadriel's side of the family; she was sometimes mistaken for a Mirkwood elf. Arwen possessed typical Rivendell traits.
"But.why isn't the ring going to be Arwen's?" Lostiathwen blurted out.
Elrond considered, locking eyes with his daughter. "I have a feeling that it is due to the fact that Arwen may not sail for Valinor. If she marries Aragorn, she may be the wife of the king of men. Nenya (the ring of the adamant) is much too powerful for a human, even one with Elven blood.
Still, she was confused. Galadriel had raised Arwen for a time; surely Arwen was her favorite of the cousins? And what of Elladan and Elrohir, Arwen's twin brothers? They, too, would depart for the Undying Lands when the One Ring was destroyed. Lostiathwen bit her lip, thinking of the untapped power she would wield on her finger. There were three Elven rings of power, each forged by Sauron, as was the One Ring. They could be used to keep peaceful reign, as Galadriel had in Lothlorien, the Golden Wood, for centuries. But the rings could also be used for evil. Galadriel had never been tempted to use the ring as an instrument of evil. Could Lostiathwen do the same?
One thing was for certain: Galadriel had great faith in Lostiathwen's intelligence and common sense. Though Lostiathwen was not her biological granddaughter, Galadriel had adopted Arwen's cousin as her own grandchild. The two Elven princesses had spent many content childhood days in Lothlorien. The Wood was their second home; the trip was unexpected, but not unwelcomed.
* * * Lostiathwen and Arwen were to leave the next morning. Elrond had been correct about one thing-his niece forgot about her Legolas preoccupation during her preparations. There was much to do. Legolas entered her mind only once, fleetingly, when she realized that her journey would bring her closer to him. The trip to Lothlorien was trying, even for seasoned travelers. Lostiathwen knew she must pack sparingly. She would wear her forest green traveling cloak and tuck most of her necessities into its pockets. When she was certain she had packed adequately, she decided to take a long walk to soothe her frazzled nerves. She felt that she had changed, just in the course of that day. The fate of Middle-earth no longer seemed certain. Now, instead of sailing for the safety of the Grey Havens, she would have to make a dangerous journey away from Rivendell and all that was familiar.
Lostiathwen silently left her chamber and walked out into the woods. She was startled to find the sun already setting; since Elrond had broken the news, her day had become a flurry of preparations. She strolled amongst the majestic trees and sang a song about nightfall. When the Elf reached a clearing, she saw Arwen sitting in the brilliant green grass, crying softly. She paused, aching for her cousin, but had no way to understand her anguish. She worried about Legolas, but Legolas was not in love with her. Most likely, he knew nothing of her existance.
Arwen had clearly gone to the clearing seeking solitude, which was difficult to attain in the house of Elrond. Lostiathwen decided that it would be wise to avoid disturbing her. She continued on her way. Her heart felt heavy and tender as she thought of Arwen's predicament. What would she do if she and Legolas were in love, but could not be together? The dilemma was not new to her; Lostiathwen's half-Elven father had faced similar decisions when her married her mother, a noble Elven princess. The elf wondered if she would ever reunite with her father. Uncle Elrond had been an adequate and loving surrogate father. Yet, he could never replace his brother.
Weighed down by so many burdens, Lostiathwen was suddenly exhausted. She turned around to walk back to Rivendell. Elves do not sleep as mortals do, but they need quiet rest all the same. By the time she reached her bed, she was so weary that she could no longer contemplate anything. She knew nothing else until Arwen woke her up in the grey light before dawn the next morning.
* * * "Dear cousin, it's time to get up!" Lostiathwen blinked, barely recognizing Arwen's sweet voice. Arwen stood over her bed, holding their traveling cloaks. Lostiathwen stifled a yawn and roused herself, donning the cloak. Her mind raced with thoughts of worry and apprehension as she followed Arwen to Elrond's chamber. Her jade eyes drank in every aspect of the house as they walked; she would miss the only home she had ever known.
Elrond was as serious as he'd been while deciding the fate of the Ring. "Your horses are saddled and waiting for you, children," he said. "I know you've made this journey before, but this time I worry for your safety. There is evil between Rivendell and Lothlorien, thought both are safe for now. I would like to give you these to help protect yourselves."
Elrond presented each woman with a beautiful Elven sword. The polished silver of the weapons gleamed with a deadly glow in the light of the rising sun. The cousins admired the swords; Arwen was adept at using swords and daggers, and Lostiathwen had been trained in archery and throwing knives. Neither had ever owned such a formidable weapon.
Elrond put a rough hand on each of their shoulders. His eyes were closed, reflecting his inner worry and fear. "Use them wisely, with a steady hand," he finally advised. "I wish there were time to train you both in using them, but I trust your skill and judgement."
The Elves walked out to the stables together. Arwen's and Lostiathwen's twin white mares, Snow Lilly and Frost, waited patiently outside, munching grass. Elrond watched his daughter and niece mount their horses, the deep sadness of thousands of years showing in his eyes. Lostiathwen could practically read his thoughts-if he'd convinced Isildur to destroy the Ring so many years ago, his loved ones would not have to leave home. The ring would only be a memory, and Galadriel's Nenya would be powerless. Elrond fingered his own ring of power and sighed audibly.
"Go safely," he said firmly, "and be careful. You two are the youngest of the high Elves who remain on Middle-earth, but mostly importantly, you are my daughters." Lostiathwen started at his use of the term "daugher", but Elrond's met hers as well as Arwen's. "Naamarie."
* * * The cousins rode along in silence for awhile, until Arwen spoke. "I know what's been troubling you."
"What do you mean?" Lostiathwen's visions of Legolas seemed too personal for Arwen to possibly suspect.
Arwen smiled. "About your wood elf, Legolas. I, too, have had a dream."
