Disclaimer: I own Tirdin and Nifien and both their weapons, otherwise,
zilch, nada, zippo.
A/N: Okay, again, sorry for the wait, explanation at the bottom. But I was stuck for a while on a bit of this. And has anyone see Pirates of the Carribean? WOW! IT IS SO AWESOME! CAPTAIN Jack Sparrow is now another of my muses. *legolas and other assorted elves and vampires shake heads in pity * Lol, so anyways, I love you all for staying faithful, even when it takes me forty years to update! You're all so incredibly awesome!
* * *
The sun was rising in the east, its light caressing the world as it appeared on the horizon. Golden light illuminated the clouds, making them like a great quilt over the world, woven of purple and orange and red cloth.
Tirdin stood, watching the sun rise. His eyes were ice; his face was stone, yet his heart spilt enough tears for each.
The things he had seen the previous night would not leave him. The blood, the wounds, the crying, the screaming . . . He had never heard Legolas scream before. What he heard escape his brothers lips came not from an elf, but from some lost creature; from some poor tormented creature, with no hope and with so many secrets locked tight in it's mind . . . And as he thought of this creature, it took shape in his mind, and he feared for it. He feared it would burst with it's silence, he feared it would burn in its utter isolation, even in the embrace of another.
Tirdin had never been one for tears. He felt his sorrow was better spent in silence and isolation. And indeed, now he wished to be alone, more alone than ever. He didn't want to know the things he knew. He didn't want his brother to suffer the way he had-the way he still did. He didn't want to do what he had to do.
But it was just that. He had to.
"You didn't sleep last night."
Tirdin spun around at the feminine voice. He found himself facing a tall hazel-haired elf, a beautifully engraved scabbard hanging loosely at her side. Her skin was darker than most, and her eyes darker still.
"I saw you wandering around," she continued. Her voice was cheeky, yet her tone was serious.
Tirdin ignored her statements. He was still looking her over. The deep crimson coloured garment she wore bared one of her shoulders. With a trained healer's eye, he saw signs of recent, yet quickly healed bruising.
"You are the elf maiden he spoke of . . ." he said, almost to himself rather than to her. "Your name . . .Nifien?"
"Aye, that it is. Nifien Nalldin." She saw the detached look in his eyes, and knew his thoughts were elsewhere. She had watched him for a little while before making her presence known; he had merely been standing in silence, watching the sun rise, though his eyes were not watching the horizon. There had been grief in that moment. And she was likely the only one who could have sensed that sorrow; for this ebony haired elf had been doing just as she so often would do.
"Now you know my name, who might you be?"
"Tirdin Kheleken. Legolas' brother."
Nifien nodded in silent acknowledgement. She watched him as he turned back to the horizon, stone and cold with a nearly death-like emotion on his face.
"He told you his story, didn't he." She stated it more than inquired.
Tirdin sighed and hung his head. "Aye."
Nifien smiled a sad smile. "It breaks your heart, does it not?"
Tirdin whirled around. Rage flared in his eyes as he saw the smile on the maidens face. "Why is there such happiness in your voice?" he growled. "Why are you grinning like that? Do you take such pleasure in another's sorrow?"
"No! No, not at all!" She put her hands in front of her to show she didn't mean to offend him. "I was merely thinking . . ." She stopped. She had been thinking, something in the back of her mind, but she wasn't quite sure how to say it.
Tirdin searched her, waiting for her to finish. He knew the bruising on her delicate shoulders had been from the chains suspending her arms over her head for so long.
"It would have killed you."
Her voice was so quiet, only Tirdin's elven ears could pick it up.
"What are you talking about?"
"Had you been there . . .had you seen him, had you heard him, and everything that was said and done to him . . . as his brother, it would have destroyed you." And silently she thought to herself, and I am glad it was I, and not you.
Tirdin starred at this elf maiden for a moment. He suddenly remembered, though he had not forgotten, that she had been there, and she had seen Legolas' torment. He remembered Legolas' tale, and pieced it together with this mysterious elf, and cursed in his head. Such horrible things could not have been meant for such innocent eyes.
"What . . ." He stopped, hesitant to ask the question; hesitant to hear the answer. "What was it like for you?"
Nifien started at the question. She had not expected it. She took a breath and gathered her thoughts. "For me . . .it was something of a repetition, though so much more real. And. . . so much more cruel."
And both thought it odd, that moment, for neither knew the other, and yet they had just spoken of and listened to things that perhaps otherwise would never pass their lips or ears.
Tirdin sensed a secret in Nifien's words, but let it go. He instead turned his attention to the scabbard at her side. "You do swordplay?"
She nodded, and noted his own sheathed sword. "As do you."
Tirdin grinned slyly. "How fare your skills with the blade?"
"Better than yours, I wager."
Tirdin cocked his head to the side, mock surprise on his face. "Is that what you think?"
Nifien nodded, a self assured and playful smirk on her lips.
"Then let us see for certain!"
Tirdin drew his sword, and the risen sun, low in the east, glinted off the metal. He twisted it about in the sun, admiring it himself, and knowing with pleasure that Nifien was staring at it too. The blade sung as it cut the air with its deadly sharp edges, elven script engraved on one side, and silver gracing the hilt.
Then Nifien drew her own, an older, yet beautifully crafted blade, of fine elven skill, and Tirdin found himself awed by its beauty. The blade was a little dulled by age and by use, yet it still caught the light. Clever designs played on the metal, and a hilt made flecked with gold caught Tirdin's wonder. Yet he did not have much time to admire, as it suddenly clashed down on his own.
He started but reacted fast, backing away and searching for an opportunity to get behind her. The clashing of metal upon metal sliced the formerly calm morning air. Tirdin faked a strike to the right, and quickly redirected the hit to Nifien's left. Nifien caught the trick and sprung right, knocking Tirdin's blade away with her own.
They had begun moving back into the maze of trees, having to dodge low branches and avoid fallen logs and protruding roots. Nifien ducked a powerful blow, sending Tirdin's sword into a tree and sending several sparks with the collision. The sword hadn't gone far, and Tirdin was able to tug it out just before Nifien's sword came down on it. Nifien had to bring her blade up fast to block another of Tirdin's swift blows. In a display of much practiced skill and experience, they fought on, laughing now and again, and mocking and taunting each other.
"Is that as fast as you can swing?"
"A stone could have dodged that!"
"I hope that isn't your best yet."
"How you survive in battle, I'll never know."
Suddenly, just as Tirdin was twisting his body back to Nifien from dodging another narrow miss, Nifien caught Tirdin unawares, bringing her blade from beneath and knocking Tirdin's sword from his hand. The blade flipped once in the air, and Nifien caught it's hilt with her free hand.
"You disgrace me, Tirdin."
Both elves, one with triumph and one with astonishment on their faces, whirled around to see Legolas, grinning smugly and leaning against a gnarled old tree.
"Legolas! You . . .you're up already! I thought you would have been sleeping . . ."
"No, no, if it were up to me I would never lie down again in my life," Legolas replied to his brother, noting his days in Lothlorien restricted to his bed as his wounds healed. He looked from his brother to Nifien. "I see you two have met."
"Somewhat."
Legolas grinned at Nifien, glad that cheer was once again restored to her and his brother.
"Come now, let us talk of light and untroubled things! These days have been dark even in their blessed light, and I feel no longer a need for such dreary times!" Legolas said. He stepped forward from the tree, still with a heavy limp. Tirdin reached out to Legolas, and looped his arm over his shoulder. Legolas didn't refuse. Tirdin grinned to himself, and he knew that Legolas would have let no other support him even had he fallen.
The three turned into the forest, Legolas slumping slightly, flanked by the other dark-haired elves. Their laughter rang together for once, and the trees laughed with them, delighted that mirth had returned to them all.
{What are you doing here? How dare you accept Tirdin's help! He owes you nothing, with such a burden you've now placed upon him!}
Legolas tensed, and Tirdin felt it, but regarded it as merely sudden pain from his wounds, and strengthened his hold on his brother. But Legolas would not relax, though he was silent. It was true, he had been such a burden to his friends, and he would trouble them no longer.
* * *
THANK GOD I FINISHED THAT! That scene between Nifien and Tirdin took me FOREVER! But it is over, and I am relieved. I guess I keep on keeping you waiting. I'm sorry, but since summer started, I've actually had a life for once, with art camp, and getting together a lot with my friends, and almost every day with one of them to play LOTR on the computer. So I wasn't going to give up my "life" for nothing, and was quite enjoying it. But today I managed a break, and had time to write, so yeah.
Ivory Novelist: Heh. You like the song? Guess what. I was just reading it through, just for the fun of it, and I discovered that I actually used the same song, in English, in another chapter! I nearly killed myself!
Sirithiliel: That's okay! I understand!
Ankhesanamun: Oh, crap, so you can speak elvish. Well, I'm gonna hafta be a lot more careful now, won't I. *quivers in fear * I can barely speak much, just like hello friend and farewell and I figured out some queer little insults, ie, I call people "nibin fir", or petty mortal. But yeah. And I'm just gonna say, that remember, some sites claim to have pure elvish, but aren't always 100% Tolkien. I dunno if you're like me and spaz if anyone screws with the true Tolkien Way, but yeah. Just be careful. I bought a book about it, and it seems pretty good. It's called The Languages of Tolkien's Middle-earth, by Ruth S. Noel. And the song took me an hour to translate, and I was ready to kill when done.
GemGemJoo: Sorry I haven't read your fic yet, I really really truly am! But I've had a life, which I think will be leaving me soon, and I've been brainblocked, and just kind of yeah. But I will, I promise, and I give you full fly-tackling and mutilating rights next time you see me if I don't.
Lady of the Forest: Yay, more plushies! *opens closet and gets buried in an avalanche of elf plushies * Heh . heh.
Katinka Ingo Bogananana: Yes. You will write a romance, or I will kill you.
Merrylyn: That's a good idea! I should keep a record of names and sounds . . .what really killed me is that I was just thinking of a name, and I swear I'd never read/heard it before, and I came up with Eriador, so I used that. Then I just happened to be looking at a map of middle-earth (for later domination, of course), and there it was! The realm of Eriador! AUG! And it is really pissing me off. I spent two pages trying to spell it differently so that it looked cool and still gave the same sound. And sinister is the best word. Sinister assassin. So many s's. Don't you just love it?
Until next time!
~Searcher of Souls~
A/N: Okay, again, sorry for the wait, explanation at the bottom. But I was stuck for a while on a bit of this. And has anyone see Pirates of the Carribean? WOW! IT IS SO AWESOME! CAPTAIN Jack Sparrow is now another of my muses. *legolas and other assorted elves and vampires shake heads in pity * Lol, so anyways, I love you all for staying faithful, even when it takes me forty years to update! You're all so incredibly awesome!
* * *
The sun was rising in the east, its light caressing the world as it appeared on the horizon. Golden light illuminated the clouds, making them like a great quilt over the world, woven of purple and orange and red cloth.
Tirdin stood, watching the sun rise. His eyes were ice; his face was stone, yet his heart spilt enough tears for each.
The things he had seen the previous night would not leave him. The blood, the wounds, the crying, the screaming . . . He had never heard Legolas scream before. What he heard escape his brothers lips came not from an elf, but from some lost creature; from some poor tormented creature, with no hope and with so many secrets locked tight in it's mind . . . And as he thought of this creature, it took shape in his mind, and he feared for it. He feared it would burst with it's silence, he feared it would burn in its utter isolation, even in the embrace of another.
Tirdin had never been one for tears. He felt his sorrow was better spent in silence and isolation. And indeed, now he wished to be alone, more alone than ever. He didn't want to know the things he knew. He didn't want his brother to suffer the way he had-the way he still did. He didn't want to do what he had to do.
But it was just that. He had to.
"You didn't sleep last night."
Tirdin spun around at the feminine voice. He found himself facing a tall hazel-haired elf, a beautifully engraved scabbard hanging loosely at her side. Her skin was darker than most, and her eyes darker still.
"I saw you wandering around," she continued. Her voice was cheeky, yet her tone was serious.
Tirdin ignored her statements. He was still looking her over. The deep crimson coloured garment she wore bared one of her shoulders. With a trained healer's eye, he saw signs of recent, yet quickly healed bruising.
"You are the elf maiden he spoke of . . ." he said, almost to himself rather than to her. "Your name . . .Nifien?"
"Aye, that it is. Nifien Nalldin." She saw the detached look in his eyes, and knew his thoughts were elsewhere. She had watched him for a little while before making her presence known; he had merely been standing in silence, watching the sun rise, though his eyes were not watching the horizon. There had been grief in that moment. And she was likely the only one who could have sensed that sorrow; for this ebony haired elf had been doing just as she so often would do.
"Now you know my name, who might you be?"
"Tirdin Kheleken. Legolas' brother."
Nifien nodded in silent acknowledgement. She watched him as he turned back to the horizon, stone and cold with a nearly death-like emotion on his face.
"He told you his story, didn't he." She stated it more than inquired.
Tirdin sighed and hung his head. "Aye."
Nifien smiled a sad smile. "It breaks your heart, does it not?"
Tirdin whirled around. Rage flared in his eyes as he saw the smile on the maidens face. "Why is there such happiness in your voice?" he growled. "Why are you grinning like that? Do you take such pleasure in another's sorrow?"
"No! No, not at all!" She put her hands in front of her to show she didn't mean to offend him. "I was merely thinking . . ." She stopped. She had been thinking, something in the back of her mind, but she wasn't quite sure how to say it.
Tirdin searched her, waiting for her to finish. He knew the bruising on her delicate shoulders had been from the chains suspending her arms over her head for so long.
"It would have killed you."
Her voice was so quiet, only Tirdin's elven ears could pick it up.
"What are you talking about?"
"Had you been there . . .had you seen him, had you heard him, and everything that was said and done to him . . . as his brother, it would have destroyed you." And silently she thought to herself, and I am glad it was I, and not you.
Tirdin starred at this elf maiden for a moment. He suddenly remembered, though he had not forgotten, that she had been there, and she had seen Legolas' torment. He remembered Legolas' tale, and pieced it together with this mysterious elf, and cursed in his head. Such horrible things could not have been meant for such innocent eyes.
"What . . ." He stopped, hesitant to ask the question; hesitant to hear the answer. "What was it like for you?"
Nifien started at the question. She had not expected it. She took a breath and gathered her thoughts. "For me . . .it was something of a repetition, though so much more real. And. . . so much more cruel."
And both thought it odd, that moment, for neither knew the other, and yet they had just spoken of and listened to things that perhaps otherwise would never pass their lips or ears.
Tirdin sensed a secret in Nifien's words, but let it go. He instead turned his attention to the scabbard at her side. "You do swordplay?"
She nodded, and noted his own sheathed sword. "As do you."
Tirdin grinned slyly. "How fare your skills with the blade?"
"Better than yours, I wager."
Tirdin cocked his head to the side, mock surprise on his face. "Is that what you think?"
Nifien nodded, a self assured and playful smirk on her lips.
"Then let us see for certain!"
Tirdin drew his sword, and the risen sun, low in the east, glinted off the metal. He twisted it about in the sun, admiring it himself, and knowing with pleasure that Nifien was staring at it too. The blade sung as it cut the air with its deadly sharp edges, elven script engraved on one side, and silver gracing the hilt.
Then Nifien drew her own, an older, yet beautifully crafted blade, of fine elven skill, and Tirdin found himself awed by its beauty. The blade was a little dulled by age and by use, yet it still caught the light. Clever designs played on the metal, and a hilt made flecked with gold caught Tirdin's wonder. Yet he did not have much time to admire, as it suddenly clashed down on his own.
He started but reacted fast, backing away and searching for an opportunity to get behind her. The clashing of metal upon metal sliced the formerly calm morning air. Tirdin faked a strike to the right, and quickly redirected the hit to Nifien's left. Nifien caught the trick and sprung right, knocking Tirdin's blade away with her own.
They had begun moving back into the maze of trees, having to dodge low branches and avoid fallen logs and protruding roots. Nifien ducked a powerful blow, sending Tirdin's sword into a tree and sending several sparks with the collision. The sword hadn't gone far, and Tirdin was able to tug it out just before Nifien's sword came down on it. Nifien had to bring her blade up fast to block another of Tirdin's swift blows. In a display of much practiced skill and experience, they fought on, laughing now and again, and mocking and taunting each other.
"Is that as fast as you can swing?"
"A stone could have dodged that!"
"I hope that isn't your best yet."
"How you survive in battle, I'll never know."
Suddenly, just as Tirdin was twisting his body back to Nifien from dodging another narrow miss, Nifien caught Tirdin unawares, bringing her blade from beneath and knocking Tirdin's sword from his hand. The blade flipped once in the air, and Nifien caught it's hilt with her free hand.
"You disgrace me, Tirdin."
Both elves, one with triumph and one with astonishment on their faces, whirled around to see Legolas, grinning smugly and leaning against a gnarled old tree.
"Legolas! You . . .you're up already! I thought you would have been sleeping . . ."
"No, no, if it were up to me I would never lie down again in my life," Legolas replied to his brother, noting his days in Lothlorien restricted to his bed as his wounds healed. He looked from his brother to Nifien. "I see you two have met."
"Somewhat."
Legolas grinned at Nifien, glad that cheer was once again restored to her and his brother.
"Come now, let us talk of light and untroubled things! These days have been dark even in their blessed light, and I feel no longer a need for such dreary times!" Legolas said. He stepped forward from the tree, still with a heavy limp. Tirdin reached out to Legolas, and looped his arm over his shoulder. Legolas didn't refuse. Tirdin grinned to himself, and he knew that Legolas would have let no other support him even had he fallen.
The three turned into the forest, Legolas slumping slightly, flanked by the other dark-haired elves. Their laughter rang together for once, and the trees laughed with them, delighted that mirth had returned to them all.
{What are you doing here? How dare you accept Tirdin's help! He owes you nothing, with such a burden you've now placed upon him!}
Legolas tensed, and Tirdin felt it, but regarded it as merely sudden pain from his wounds, and strengthened his hold on his brother. But Legolas would not relax, though he was silent. It was true, he had been such a burden to his friends, and he would trouble them no longer.
* * *
THANK GOD I FINISHED THAT! That scene between Nifien and Tirdin took me FOREVER! But it is over, and I am relieved. I guess I keep on keeping you waiting. I'm sorry, but since summer started, I've actually had a life for once, with art camp, and getting together a lot with my friends, and almost every day with one of them to play LOTR on the computer. So I wasn't going to give up my "life" for nothing, and was quite enjoying it. But today I managed a break, and had time to write, so yeah.
Ivory Novelist: Heh. You like the song? Guess what. I was just reading it through, just for the fun of it, and I discovered that I actually used the same song, in English, in another chapter! I nearly killed myself!
Sirithiliel: That's okay! I understand!
Ankhesanamun: Oh, crap, so you can speak elvish. Well, I'm gonna hafta be a lot more careful now, won't I. *quivers in fear * I can barely speak much, just like hello friend and farewell and I figured out some queer little insults, ie, I call people "nibin fir", or petty mortal. But yeah. And I'm just gonna say, that remember, some sites claim to have pure elvish, but aren't always 100% Tolkien. I dunno if you're like me and spaz if anyone screws with the true Tolkien Way, but yeah. Just be careful. I bought a book about it, and it seems pretty good. It's called The Languages of Tolkien's Middle-earth, by Ruth S. Noel. And the song took me an hour to translate, and I was ready to kill when done.
GemGemJoo: Sorry I haven't read your fic yet, I really really truly am! But I've had a life, which I think will be leaving me soon, and I've been brainblocked, and just kind of yeah. But I will, I promise, and I give you full fly-tackling and mutilating rights next time you see me if I don't.
Lady of the Forest: Yay, more plushies! *opens closet and gets buried in an avalanche of elf plushies * Heh . heh.
Katinka Ingo Bogananana: Yes. You will write a romance, or I will kill you.
Merrylyn: That's a good idea! I should keep a record of names and sounds . . .what really killed me is that I was just thinking of a name, and I swear I'd never read/heard it before, and I came up with Eriador, so I used that. Then I just happened to be looking at a map of middle-earth (for later domination, of course), and there it was! The realm of Eriador! AUG! And it is really pissing me off. I spent two pages trying to spell it differently so that it looked cool and still gave the same sound. And sinister is the best word. Sinister assassin. So many s's. Don't you just love it?
Until next time!
~Searcher of Souls~