Disclaimer: Anwanárë is mine!!! But LotR belongs to Tolkien only.
Author's Note: There is a correction from the last chapter. Anwanárë does not mean "lost flame," as was first posted, but actually means "true flame." The correction has already been made to the first chapter.
Loving You from Afar
By crazeebabee
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Bubbly laughter heralded the arrival of the dark-haired child. Giggling in delight, she raced after the village dog, who playfully dodged out of her grasp. The child's clothes were mud-streaked and there were twigs in her hair, but her sunny face brought smiles to the village men and women working outside.
With a big lunge, the child finally grasped the dog's rope collar. She hugged his wriggling body while he tried valiantly to lick her face. Finally, he succeeded in knocking the girl onto her bottom. Free from her grasp, he rambled over to the nearby shade and flopped down, panting.
Instead of crying, like any other 7 year old would, the girl calmly stood up and brushed her skirt off. The motion of tucking a loose curl behind her ear revealed delicately pointed elven ears. The small she-elf smiled before bursting out into a happy folksong. Her beautiful voice was tinged with a foreign, mythical air, creating an achingly sweet melody. She skipped past the working women to the fields and pastures where the men were.
"Iomann! Uncle Iomann!" she cried as she skipped joyously up to one of the men working in the field. The man paused in his hoeing to wipe the sweat from his brow. He leaned on the tool and smiled down on the girl.
"Well hello there, my little mouse. How are you doing today?"
The child beamed up at him. "Just wonderful, Uncle Iomann! I chased Nólaindo around and we had a great time!"
The man frowned in confusion. "Who is this Nólaindo?"
"Oh, that's what I call the village dog. It's much more respectful than plain old 'Dog,' don't you think, Uncle Iomann? And, he seems to like the name!"
Iomann smiled affectionately down on the small dark head. Only Anwanárë would insist on naming someone because it is more respectful. The child was only seven, but sometimes seemed to possess the soul of an older, wiser being.
"When I grow up, I'm going to live in a huge palace with thousands of dogs to chase around!"
"Oh, I'm sure you will, my dear. I'm sure you will." Then again, she really was only seven. "Does this name, Nólaindo, mean anything?" Iomann teased.
"Yes, it means 'wise heart.'"
Surprised, Iomann asked, "How do you know this, Anwanárë?"
The small girl just shrugged and smiled. "I just know, deep down inside." There was a lengthy pause as Iomann took the time to mull this over. Finally, too impatient to wait any longer, Anwanárë grabbed Iomann's hand. "Come on, Uncle, it's almost dinnertime!"
Iomann looked at the darkening sky in surprise, as if noticing the lengthening shadows for the first time. "So it is, my little mouse. So it is." Still thinking over the conversation, he allowed the girl to pull him towards the village.
/ \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \
"Are you sure you were not mistaken, Iomann? Anwanárë is, after all, only a child. And with no knowledge of her true heritage! Such a thing just doesn't seem possible."
"I truly remember, Wise One! The name just rolled off her tongue, as if she had been speaking elvish all her life. I tried saying it, Nólaindo, but it just doesn't come out the same."
"Well, she is elvish, after all. Perhaps she was born with the knowledge."
Iomann looked down on the girl sleeping peacefully in his arms. Having eaten dinner a long while ago, Anwanárë had dozed off to the sound of the soft conversation. Looking up, he gazed into the Wise Woman's eyes.
She anticipated his next comment. He blurted out quickly, "It is not only the knowledge of elvish that sets her apart. She sings beautifully and her voice is unlike any mortal's. Also, she has a strange presence about her. Even the trees and animals can sense it. Did you know that the village dog will not let anyone touch him, except Anwanárë?"
The Wise Woman turned and walked slowly to the door. She leaned on the doorframe to look out into the forest. Iomann went on, behind her, "And Old Mithroden, he has been suffering from his rheumatism ever since I was a babe in the cradle! Anwanárë visits him every day to talk, and after her visits he claims that the pain is gone!"
The Wise Woman suddenly turned to face Iomann. The blue eyes that were normally vivid and alive were now cloudy with weariness and pain. "And what would you have me do, Iomann? It is clear that Anwanárë is different, but I made a promise to her mother. I promised to care for the babe as my own."
"And you have done a fine job of it. But you are right - she is different. That is why she cannot stay here all her life." Her eyes dropped to the child in his lap. They returned to lock with his, conveying the depth of her pain. "You knew this moment was to come, Wise One. You knew that you had to let her go."
"But why does it have to come so early? She is so young. . . She has become my world, Iomann. When she leaves, what shall I do? How shall I face a life without my little one?"
Iomann took her gnarled, old hand and gave it a compassionate squeeze. "We will all miss her, Wise One. She has become a part of all our lives. But she must go now, to learn the way of her ancestors. She cannot stay here, where our mortality will suffocate her budding development as an elf. Be brave, Wise One, you will still have us."
The Wise Woman nodded with a bittersweet smile. "I will contact the elves. They will take her in and raise her as one of their own." She bent to caress the sleeping child's cheek. "But oh, I will miss her so. Anwa, my little Anwanárë."
/ \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \
To all my reviewers, thank you so much for your generous reviews! I really appreciate your taking the time to comment on my work! Keep up the reading and writing!
Don't forget:
Review, pretty please!
Author's Note: There is a correction from the last chapter. Anwanárë does not mean "lost flame," as was first posted, but actually means "true flame." The correction has already been made to the first chapter.
Loving You from Afar
By crazeebabee
/ \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \
Bubbly laughter heralded the arrival of the dark-haired child. Giggling in delight, she raced after the village dog, who playfully dodged out of her grasp. The child's clothes were mud-streaked and there were twigs in her hair, but her sunny face brought smiles to the village men and women working outside.
With a big lunge, the child finally grasped the dog's rope collar. She hugged his wriggling body while he tried valiantly to lick her face. Finally, he succeeded in knocking the girl onto her bottom. Free from her grasp, he rambled over to the nearby shade and flopped down, panting.
Instead of crying, like any other 7 year old would, the girl calmly stood up and brushed her skirt off. The motion of tucking a loose curl behind her ear revealed delicately pointed elven ears. The small she-elf smiled before bursting out into a happy folksong. Her beautiful voice was tinged with a foreign, mythical air, creating an achingly sweet melody. She skipped past the working women to the fields and pastures where the men were.
"Iomann! Uncle Iomann!" she cried as she skipped joyously up to one of the men working in the field. The man paused in his hoeing to wipe the sweat from his brow. He leaned on the tool and smiled down on the girl.
"Well hello there, my little mouse. How are you doing today?"
The child beamed up at him. "Just wonderful, Uncle Iomann! I chased Nólaindo around and we had a great time!"
The man frowned in confusion. "Who is this Nólaindo?"
"Oh, that's what I call the village dog. It's much more respectful than plain old 'Dog,' don't you think, Uncle Iomann? And, he seems to like the name!"
Iomann smiled affectionately down on the small dark head. Only Anwanárë would insist on naming someone because it is more respectful. The child was only seven, but sometimes seemed to possess the soul of an older, wiser being.
"When I grow up, I'm going to live in a huge palace with thousands of dogs to chase around!"
"Oh, I'm sure you will, my dear. I'm sure you will." Then again, she really was only seven. "Does this name, Nólaindo, mean anything?" Iomann teased.
"Yes, it means 'wise heart.'"
Surprised, Iomann asked, "How do you know this, Anwanárë?"
The small girl just shrugged and smiled. "I just know, deep down inside." There was a lengthy pause as Iomann took the time to mull this over. Finally, too impatient to wait any longer, Anwanárë grabbed Iomann's hand. "Come on, Uncle, it's almost dinnertime!"
Iomann looked at the darkening sky in surprise, as if noticing the lengthening shadows for the first time. "So it is, my little mouse. So it is." Still thinking over the conversation, he allowed the girl to pull him towards the village.
/ \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \
"Are you sure you were not mistaken, Iomann? Anwanárë is, after all, only a child. And with no knowledge of her true heritage! Such a thing just doesn't seem possible."
"I truly remember, Wise One! The name just rolled off her tongue, as if she had been speaking elvish all her life. I tried saying it, Nólaindo, but it just doesn't come out the same."
"Well, she is elvish, after all. Perhaps she was born with the knowledge."
Iomann looked down on the girl sleeping peacefully in his arms. Having eaten dinner a long while ago, Anwanárë had dozed off to the sound of the soft conversation. Looking up, he gazed into the Wise Woman's eyes.
She anticipated his next comment. He blurted out quickly, "It is not only the knowledge of elvish that sets her apart. She sings beautifully and her voice is unlike any mortal's. Also, she has a strange presence about her. Even the trees and animals can sense it. Did you know that the village dog will not let anyone touch him, except Anwanárë?"
The Wise Woman turned and walked slowly to the door. She leaned on the doorframe to look out into the forest. Iomann went on, behind her, "And Old Mithroden, he has been suffering from his rheumatism ever since I was a babe in the cradle! Anwanárë visits him every day to talk, and after her visits he claims that the pain is gone!"
The Wise Woman suddenly turned to face Iomann. The blue eyes that were normally vivid and alive were now cloudy with weariness and pain. "And what would you have me do, Iomann? It is clear that Anwanárë is different, but I made a promise to her mother. I promised to care for the babe as my own."
"And you have done a fine job of it. But you are right - she is different. That is why she cannot stay here all her life." Her eyes dropped to the child in his lap. They returned to lock with his, conveying the depth of her pain. "You knew this moment was to come, Wise One. You knew that you had to let her go."
"But why does it have to come so early? She is so young. . . She has become my world, Iomann. When she leaves, what shall I do? How shall I face a life without my little one?"
Iomann took her gnarled, old hand and gave it a compassionate squeeze. "We will all miss her, Wise One. She has become a part of all our lives. But she must go now, to learn the way of her ancestors. She cannot stay here, where our mortality will suffocate her budding development as an elf. Be brave, Wise One, you will still have us."
The Wise Woman nodded with a bittersweet smile. "I will contact the elves. They will take her in and raise her as one of their own." She bent to caress the sleeping child's cheek. "But oh, I will miss her so. Anwa, my little Anwanárë."
/ \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \
To all my reviewers, thank you so much for your generous reviews! I really appreciate your taking the time to comment on my work! Keep up the reading and writing!
Don't forget:
Review, pretty please!
