Hey, peeps. What you are about to read is an example of what happens when a
certain Elf Huntress gets carried away. The part at the end wasn't going ta
happen, but with as much fluff as that, it can't be removed. EHAB says to
add that you should pay attention to Sivi's weird "Gollum moment" and "the
"glass" she speaks of is NOT TELEVISION." OK, I feel the art muse calling,
must go draw chibis and listen to hyper music. A friend just gave me a CD
of stuff like "The Pudding Song", "Follow the Sun" (That has to be
Legolas's theme song!) and "The Rubber Ducky Song in German." Some times
friends can be scary. Well, bye for now!
~Phe-chan~
It was the morning of the day on which the forces of Elves and Men would break in tempestuous rage over the armies of darkness. The two armor- bearers were by the Elven-king's side, at the moment lacing his shin- guards. Then, "Wilye" managed to affix Gil-galad's cloak as "Caranlas" braided his glittering crown into his dawn-golden hair.
So proud, Caranlas thought with admiration, and so regal. My lord Gil- galad, you are every inch the king, and I wonder, do you know it?
He loves you, said a voice from within her.
I know that, she answered with an impatience that stemmed from guilt.
He would cherish you forever -- and no matter what you told him, you know that you DO have forever.
I know that. I KNOW that! Let me alone!
Why are you so afraid to be close to someone?
He's a king!
You're a Keeper!
Exactly; he wouldn't understand
He, more than anyone, most CERTAINLY would understand!
It doesn't matter. I won't.
Won't what? Love him? Is that yours to control?
LET. ME. ALONE.
At least try once more to persuade him.
"My lord king," Caranlas said suddenly.
"What is it, Caranlas?" Gil-galad asked pleasantly.
"Do not go, my lord," Caranlas pleaded, dropping to one knee.
"What do you mean?" Gil-galad demanded.
His complexion, normally as pale as an Elf's will ever naturally be, whitened so as to be a shade like a vampire's.
"My lord knows full well what I mean," Caranlas said in a low voice, her eyes fixed upon the earth, "but I will say further: I have seen, in a glass more powerful than Altariel's, the Doom of Mandos falling with the death knell on the shoulders of the son of Fingon an if he should approach the Sammath Naur. Do you not go, my liege."
Wilye had stopped and was blinking mutely at her friend.
Gil-galad's hand trembled beneath Caranlas' fingers. Caranlas realized that if he heeded her -- if he broke under his fear, and did not go --, she would despise him as a coward. Yet, she would rather despise a living coward than despair for a dead king.
Gil-galad did not break. Lifting his head majestically, he answered her thus:
"If Mandos decrees it so, then it is done. I will not resist, reproach, or resent a Prince among the Ainur."
He turned to leave the tent, but Caranlas gripped his wrist and cried out convulsively,
"My lord king, for the sake of the soldier that loves you!"
As far as Caranlas and Gil-galad knew, Caranlas had meant only what she had said: all soldiers of Gil-galad loved their king. Wilye, however, began to see, with a blink, a start, and a cock of the head, what Caranlas deep within herself had truly attempted to say.
"I am sorry, Caranlas," Gil-galad said sadly, and left her there. His emotions in a stormy upheaval, Gil-galad picked his way through the sleeping Elven soldiers. Mandos, then, had decreed his death? What had he, a mere Elda, done to elicit the express attention of a Vala? But then, Mandos represented the pleasure and thought of Iluvatar......... was Iluvatar displeased with Gil-galad? Why?
In his misery, Gil-galad missed his step and tripped over a young elf huddled under a blanket. As the latter sat up and reached for his blade, Gil-galad recognized him.
"You!" he cried, astounded. What else this day?
Legolas, realizing who he was addressed by and being able to interpret the king's interjection only as a snarl, flattened his ears and lowered his eyes.
"You kicked me, sir?" he murmured respectfully.
"Ah, no, dear friend, I tripped over you," Gil-galad apologized. "Forgive me my preoccupation."
"Of course, my liege," Legolas nodded.
"What are you doing here? Are you not Legolas who travels with Siobhan, daughter of Joseph?" Gil-galad inquired eagerly.
"Sir, I am. I was drafted, lord king, " Legolas replied, "though proud I am to serve beneath your standard."
"What is your rank?" Gil-galad asked, seeming glad for a distraction to be interested in.
"Under your banner, liege, the only rank is 'subject,' " Legolas said carefully.
"Ha! Well said," Gil-galad laughed uneasily; "you begin to sound like Caranlas."
"Like who, my lord?" Legolas queried.
"My armor-bearer," Gil-galad said with far more indifference than he really felt. "But tell me, what was Joseph doing when he and others of your company drew Elendil after themselves into the marshes some weeks past?"
Legolas hesitated, then decided to be completely and brutally frank.
"They tried to save your life, lord king, by leading you away from the Mountain of Doom, but you did not follow."
"Ah!" Gil-galad cried, "Do your visions and prophecies call for my demise even as Sivi's and Caranlas' do?"
Legolas sang softly,
"Gil-galad was an Elven-king.
Of him the Harpers sadly sing,
The last whose realm was fair and free,
Between the Mountains and the Sea--"
"Enough!" Gil-galad managed. "I have heard it in my own dreams before now, and Siobhan was singing it! Where is she?"
He was breathing like a marathon runner who, putting forth his best effort at the last, has, even so, lost his race.
"Was she not with --" Legolas stopped.
No, she had NOT been with Joseph. But where was she then? Where were Sarah and Christina, and......... and where was Andrea?
"I -- I don't know," he answered, looking at Gil-galad in unfeigned horror.
Gil-galad went cold and stared back at the younger elf for a long, silent eternity. Then he laughed mirthlessly.
"Don't you? But I do."
So saying, he spun on his heels and left poor Legolas to throw his face into his palms and pray for his Squee -- and his sanity. Marching back into his tent, Gil-galad banished Wilye -- Andrea -- therefrom with a single look. Then, he took Caranlas' helmet between his hands, pulled it from her head, and hurled it across the tent.
"What are you doing here? What are you DOING here?" he literally roared.
"Writing a treatise on how long it takes to drive an Elven-king mad," Sivi replied with far more courage than she had ever known that she possessed.
"Count back to the day we met; you'll have your answer," Gil-galad shouted.
"I can be just as stubborn as you can," Sivi exploded. "If you stay, I'm staying!"
Gil-galad looked at her with desperation, respect, and curiosity.
"Why?" he asked with a certain amount of hope. "Why should you care what happens to me?"
Sivi didn't miss anything, and she was not about to offer the poor elf any encouragement.
"My father undertook this project to rescue you, and who am I to say him nay?"
"Your father undertakes a project, and you will risk your life to make it succeed?"
" 'Death before dishonor,' is that not your way? You risk yours for what you will, why cannot I?" Sivi retorted.
"You really will not leave, will you?"
"I will not," she answered.
"Will you agree to move back from the front lines?"
"I will not. I will serve you as I have done for months, as your armor- bearer."
"How will this save me?"
Siobhan was silent.
"Very well. You see I give in to you in this. Give me one thing."
"What is that?" Sivi asked suspiciously.
"Let me kiss at least your brow before you cover it again," Gil-galad pleaded quietly.
"You may," Sivi murmured equally softly.
Gently, he took her face in his hands and brushed her forehead with his lips. Then he retrieved her helmet and handed it back to her with a bow. In a broken whisper, he admonished her,
"Be careful, Melui, and remember that I love you."
WAI! THE CUTENESS!! SIVIxGIL-GALAD KAWAII SAP, NYO!!!*Phe-chan is acting like Andrea now.* PRESS PRETTY BUTTON NOW! PLEASE?!?! ARIGATOOOOO!!!!! JA NE! (This outburst is the result of something that goes "I do I do I do do I do love you. And do ya do ya do do ya love me too?")
~Phe-chan~
It was the morning of the day on which the forces of Elves and Men would break in tempestuous rage over the armies of darkness. The two armor- bearers were by the Elven-king's side, at the moment lacing his shin- guards. Then, "Wilye" managed to affix Gil-galad's cloak as "Caranlas" braided his glittering crown into his dawn-golden hair.
So proud, Caranlas thought with admiration, and so regal. My lord Gil- galad, you are every inch the king, and I wonder, do you know it?
He loves you, said a voice from within her.
I know that, she answered with an impatience that stemmed from guilt.
He would cherish you forever -- and no matter what you told him, you know that you DO have forever.
I know that. I KNOW that! Let me alone!
Why are you so afraid to be close to someone?
He's a king!
You're a Keeper!
Exactly; he wouldn't understand
He, more than anyone, most CERTAINLY would understand!
It doesn't matter. I won't.
Won't what? Love him? Is that yours to control?
LET. ME. ALONE.
At least try once more to persuade him.
"My lord king," Caranlas said suddenly.
"What is it, Caranlas?" Gil-galad asked pleasantly.
"Do not go, my lord," Caranlas pleaded, dropping to one knee.
"What do you mean?" Gil-galad demanded.
His complexion, normally as pale as an Elf's will ever naturally be, whitened so as to be a shade like a vampire's.
"My lord knows full well what I mean," Caranlas said in a low voice, her eyes fixed upon the earth, "but I will say further: I have seen, in a glass more powerful than Altariel's, the Doom of Mandos falling with the death knell on the shoulders of the son of Fingon an if he should approach the Sammath Naur. Do you not go, my liege."
Wilye had stopped and was blinking mutely at her friend.
Gil-galad's hand trembled beneath Caranlas' fingers. Caranlas realized that if he heeded her -- if he broke under his fear, and did not go --, she would despise him as a coward. Yet, she would rather despise a living coward than despair for a dead king.
Gil-galad did not break. Lifting his head majestically, he answered her thus:
"If Mandos decrees it so, then it is done. I will not resist, reproach, or resent a Prince among the Ainur."
He turned to leave the tent, but Caranlas gripped his wrist and cried out convulsively,
"My lord king, for the sake of the soldier that loves you!"
As far as Caranlas and Gil-galad knew, Caranlas had meant only what she had said: all soldiers of Gil-galad loved their king. Wilye, however, began to see, with a blink, a start, and a cock of the head, what Caranlas deep within herself had truly attempted to say.
"I am sorry, Caranlas," Gil-galad said sadly, and left her there. His emotions in a stormy upheaval, Gil-galad picked his way through the sleeping Elven soldiers. Mandos, then, had decreed his death? What had he, a mere Elda, done to elicit the express attention of a Vala? But then, Mandos represented the pleasure and thought of Iluvatar......... was Iluvatar displeased with Gil-galad? Why?
In his misery, Gil-galad missed his step and tripped over a young elf huddled under a blanket. As the latter sat up and reached for his blade, Gil-galad recognized him.
"You!" he cried, astounded. What else this day?
Legolas, realizing who he was addressed by and being able to interpret the king's interjection only as a snarl, flattened his ears and lowered his eyes.
"You kicked me, sir?" he murmured respectfully.
"Ah, no, dear friend, I tripped over you," Gil-galad apologized. "Forgive me my preoccupation."
"Of course, my liege," Legolas nodded.
"What are you doing here? Are you not Legolas who travels with Siobhan, daughter of Joseph?" Gil-galad inquired eagerly.
"Sir, I am. I was drafted, lord king, " Legolas replied, "though proud I am to serve beneath your standard."
"What is your rank?" Gil-galad asked, seeming glad for a distraction to be interested in.
"Under your banner, liege, the only rank is 'subject,' " Legolas said carefully.
"Ha! Well said," Gil-galad laughed uneasily; "you begin to sound like Caranlas."
"Like who, my lord?" Legolas queried.
"My armor-bearer," Gil-galad said with far more indifference than he really felt. "But tell me, what was Joseph doing when he and others of your company drew Elendil after themselves into the marshes some weeks past?"
Legolas hesitated, then decided to be completely and brutally frank.
"They tried to save your life, lord king, by leading you away from the Mountain of Doom, but you did not follow."
"Ah!" Gil-galad cried, "Do your visions and prophecies call for my demise even as Sivi's and Caranlas' do?"
Legolas sang softly,
"Gil-galad was an Elven-king.
Of him the Harpers sadly sing,
The last whose realm was fair and free,
Between the Mountains and the Sea--"
"Enough!" Gil-galad managed. "I have heard it in my own dreams before now, and Siobhan was singing it! Where is she?"
He was breathing like a marathon runner who, putting forth his best effort at the last, has, even so, lost his race.
"Was she not with --" Legolas stopped.
No, she had NOT been with Joseph. But where was she then? Where were Sarah and Christina, and......... and where was Andrea?
"I -- I don't know," he answered, looking at Gil-galad in unfeigned horror.
Gil-galad went cold and stared back at the younger elf for a long, silent eternity. Then he laughed mirthlessly.
"Don't you? But I do."
So saying, he spun on his heels and left poor Legolas to throw his face into his palms and pray for his Squee -- and his sanity. Marching back into his tent, Gil-galad banished Wilye -- Andrea -- therefrom with a single look. Then, he took Caranlas' helmet between his hands, pulled it from her head, and hurled it across the tent.
"What are you doing here? What are you DOING here?" he literally roared.
"Writing a treatise on how long it takes to drive an Elven-king mad," Sivi replied with far more courage than she had ever known that she possessed.
"Count back to the day we met; you'll have your answer," Gil-galad shouted.
"I can be just as stubborn as you can," Sivi exploded. "If you stay, I'm staying!"
Gil-galad looked at her with desperation, respect, and curiosity.
"Why?" he asked with a certain amount of hope. "Why should you care what happens to me?"
Sivi didn't miss anything, and she was not about to offer the poor elf any encouragement.
"My father undertook this project to rescue you, and who am I to say him nay?"
"Your father undertakes a project, and you will risk your life to make it succeed?"
" 'Death before dishonor,' is that not your way? You risk yours for what you will, why cannot I?" Sivi retorted.
"You really will not leave, will you?"
"I will not," she answered.
"Will you agree to move back from the front lines?"
"I will not. I will serve you as I have done for months, as your armor- bearer."
"How will this save me?"
Siobhan was silent.
"Very well. You see I give in to you in this. Give me one thing."
"What is that?" Sivi asked suspiciously.
"Let me kiss at least your brow before you cover it again," Gil-galad pleaded quietly.
"You may," Sivi murmured equally softly.
Gently, he took her face in his hands and brushed her forehead with his lips. Then he retrieved her helmet and handed it back to her with a bow. In a broken whisper, he admonished her,
"Be careful, Melui, and remember that I love you."
WAI! THE CUTENESS!! SIVIxGIL-GALAD KAWAII SAP, NYO!!!*Phe-chan is acting like Andrea now.* PRESS PRETTY BUTTON NOW! PLEASE?!?! ARIGATOOOOO!!!!! JA NE! (This outburst is the result of something that goes "I do I do I do do I do love you. And do ya do ya do do ya love me too?")