Disclaimer: This story is based on the work of Tolkien. The setting and most of the characters are his. Valarie, Maranwe, and Runevalas are my own creations. The Elvish language here is from the Tel'Mithrim and is used with permission. The word "feahoon" is used PENDING approval from the Grey Company. For more information please see their web site: www.grey-company .org
Rating: PG
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In the clearing, Valariel continued to circle the Orc. She'd darted in a few times, wounding him. He was growing more enraged. Finally, he made one last sweeping lunge, bringing his saber down towards Valariel's head. She ducked and stood up as the blade passed her by. Her opening was there.
She brought her hands up in front of her, crossing them, and slashed down, each blade making a deep cut at the sides of the Orc's throat. Arterial blood erupted, soaking Valariel. She swept one blade across the Orc's belly, finding the weakness between his chest plate and lower armor. Without missing a beat, that same hand swept up, driving the blade of the knife through the soft bottom of the Orc's chin and up into his brain.
Haldir and his brothers had broken from the tree line just in time to see Valariel cut the Orc's throat. They stopped in their tracks, stunned. All three had taught her to fight with a knife, but until that moment they never understood how much she'd learned or how much she'd practiced.
As the Orc's limp corpse fell away, Valariel dropped to one knee, shaking. She could hear her father calling for her but he sounded so far away. Valariel felt cold and then hot as tingling waves raced through her, sparking along all of her nerves. Her eyesight grew blurry and her head swam. A final wave of pain rocked her, and then, as quickly as it came, the odd sensation disappeared.
"Valariel? Daughter?" The concern was evident in Haldir's voice. "Are you hurt?"
"No…"
She was facing way from them and the three Elves stared at her back as she started to stand. She looked for a long moment at the dead Orc, and her anger started to rise again. She started to tremble. "He was going to kill the children," she growled. "He thought I would just let him kill me… He thought I was just a child."
She turned and looked at them. From under the blond hair, now stained dark with Orc blood, two sapphire blue eyes blazed out at them. "I am not a child!"
There was no longer any doubt about that.
Word of the attack and of Valariel's blood-soaked coming of age reached the center of Lothlorien well before they arrived. Rumil and Orophin went ahead with the children, shepherding them to fretting parents. Haldir spent the time simply being with his daughter.
As they came within sight of the buildings and trees that created the heart of the Wood, Haldir spoke softly. "Valariel, I'll make sure there is a spring for you to bathe where you won't be intruded upon. I, myself, will stand guard."
"Thank you, atar father." She looked down at her clothes, now caked with drying, clotted Orc blood. It was on her skin, in her hair. She'd never felt this foul and the chance to wash the stains and the stench from herself was all she wanted.
Haldir caught her elbow and stopped her. "I'm proud of you, Valariel," he said.
She blinked at him and a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips.
"I wish," he said, "that you'd never had to do that. It isn't something I would wish on anyone, Elf or Man. I would keep you safe always, if I could. Someday you'll perhaps have a child and understand that desire more." He paused and then his chin came up and he tilted his head slightly. "But you took all the lessons I taught you – and some that I didn't, and for that I think I will need to speak to Rumil – and you did not flinch. You did not falter. You handled yourself like a warrior, daughter."
Aside from the knowledge her father loved her, Valariel had never wanted anything other than his praise. For a moment the horror and the fear and the blood were erased under Haldir's words.
The pool was curved and surrounded by flat, smooth stones with thick ivy growing between them. The water bubbled up from a crack in a huge boulder and cascaded down. Heated by Elfin magic, steam wafted up from the rippled silver surface. Valariel had stripped off her clothes and left them with instructions to burn them. They were ruined now. She sank into the water, grateful for the warmth. Elves were rarely cold physically, but the stress of her battle with the Orc and with her own change, left her chilled and tired.
Outside the screen of the trees, Haldir stood – as promised – and guarded his daughter's privacy. The few curious Elves came up, but quickly retreated at the sight of Haldir's stern and unyielding expression.
Valariel leaned back in the water soaking and scrubbing her hair until every last bit of blood and offal disappeared and was swept away by the gentle current in the pool. Looking down at her reflection, she marveled at her eyes. So long they had been that deep, rich brown of childhood. So long she had wished to see a new shade, and now her wish had been granted. Her eyes were a sapphire blue with a darker blue ring around the outside of the iris. Valariel allowed herself a moment of vanity – another trait she had inherited from Haldir – and though how lovely a shade they were.
Then she chuckled to herself and rinsed her hair one last time. She absently looked at the ends of her hair – it was a light blond, nearly a silver blond, just like her father. Vaguely she remembered her mother's hair had been a richer gold. More like Lady Galadriel's or Legolas'.
Legolas.
Valariel had never forgotten the Prince of Mirkwood, but she also never mentioned him again to her father. Often she would dream of him; sometimes she would merely see his face and she wondered if she were seeing what he was doing in some far corner of Middle Earth. Other times they would interact, sometimes quite intimately, and she would wake flushed and warm.
She looked up at the stars as she settled further into the pool's warm embrace. "Now, feahoon," she whispered, "we are both ready. I have but to find you again in this great expanse of Middle Earth."
She spent some time sitting at the edge of the pool, wrapped in a light robe that had been left for her. Finally she stood and left the screening of leaves and ivy. Her father was waiting.
"I wish to begin more formal training," she said. "I have lingered too long in the rosy daybreak of childhood. There is much time to be made up. I would take my place among the Archers of 'Lorien."
Making up time was no idle boast on Valariel's part. Within the week she'd begun her training and she excelled at all tasks, driving herself without mercy and with no tolerance for mistakes. She soon jumped ahead of even her age-mates in skill and ability. Soon Lady Galadriel even asked Valariel to carry messages on behalf of Lothlorien to other parts of Middle Earth.
It was while she was out on an errand for the Lady of the Wood that Legolas returned to Lothlorien in the company of two Men, a Dwarf, and four small people who called themselves Hobbits…
** ** ** ** ** ** **
I'm glad everyone is enjoying Valariel's story so far. Thank you Romula L., Mercury G. and Evenstar E. for all of the feedback, comments & support. Haldir's Heart & Soul, glad you're liking the story as well. We're about half-way through. Please keep the ideas and suggestions coming!
Rating: PG
** ** ** ** ** **
In the clearing, Valariel continued to circle the Orc. She'd darted in a few times, wounding him. He was growing more enraged. Finally, he made one last sweeping lunge, bringing his saber down towards Valariel's head. She ducked and stood up as the blade passed her by. Her opening was there.
She brought her hands up in front of her, crossing them, and slashed down, each blade making a deep cut at the sides of the Orc's throat. Arterial blood erupted, soaking Valariel. She swept one blade across the Orc's belly, finding the weakness between his chest plate and lower armor. Without missing a beat, that same hand swept up, driving the blade of the knife through the soft bottom of the Orc's chin and up into his brain.
Haldir and his brothers had broken from the tree line just in time to see Valariel cut the Orc's throat. They stopped in their tracks, stunned. All three had taught her to fight with a knife, but until that moment they never understood how much she'd learned or how much she'd practiced.
As the Orc's limp corpse fell away, Valariel dropped to one knee, shaking. She could hear her father calling for her but he sounded so far away. Valariel felt cold and then hot as tingling waves raced through her, sparking along all of her nerves. Her eyesight grew blurry and her head swam. A final wave of pain rocked her, and then, as quickly as it came, the odd sensation disappeared.
"Valariel? Daughter?" The concern was evident in Haldir's voice. "Are you hurt?"
"No…"
She was facing way from them and the three Elves stared at her back as she started to stand. She looked for a long moment at the dead Orc, and her anger started to rise again. She started to tremble. "He was going to kill the children," she growled. "He thought I would just let him kill me… He thought I was just a child."
She turned and looked at them. From under the blond hair, now stained dark with Orc blood, two sapphire blue eyes blazed out at them. "I am not a child!"
There was no longer any doubt about that.
Word of the attack and of Valariel's blood-soaked coming of age reached the center of Lothlorien well before they arrived. Rumil and Orophin went ahead with the children, shepherding them to fretting parents. Haldir spent the time simply being with his daughter.
As they came within sight of the buildings and trees that created the heart of the Wood, Haldir spoke softly. "Valariel, I'll make sure there is a spring for you to bathe where you won't be intruded upon. I, myself, will stand guard."
"Thank you, atar father." She looked down at her clothes, now caked with drying, clotted Orc blood. It was on her skin, in her hair. She'd never felt this foul and the chance to wash the stains and the stench from herself was all she wanted.
Haldir caught her elbow and stopped her. "I'm proud of you, Valariel," he said.
She blinked at him and a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips.
"I wish," he said, "that you'd never had to do that. It isn't something I would wish on anyone, Elf or Man. I would keep you safe always, if I could. Someday you'll perhaps have a child and understand that desire more." He paused and then his chin came up and he tilted his head slightly. "But you took all the lessons I taught you – and some that I didn't, and for that I think I will need to speak to Rumil – and you did not flinch. You did not falter. You handled yourself like a warrior, daughter."
Aside from the knowledge her father loved her, Valariel had never wanted anything other than his praise. For a moment the horror and the fear and the blood were erased under Haldir's words.
The pool was curved and surrounded by flat, smooth stones with thick ivy growing between them. The water bubbled up from a crack in a huge boulder and cascaded down. Heated by Elfin magic, steam wafted up from the rippled silver surface. Valariel had stripped off her clothes and left them with instructions to burn them. They were ruined now. She sank into the water, grateful for the warmth. Elves were rarely cold physically, but the stress of her battle with the Orc and with her own change, left her chilled and tired.
Outside the screen of the trees, Haldir stood – as promised – and guarded his daughter's privacy. The few curious Elves came up, but quickly retreated at the sight of Haldir's stern and unyielding expression.
Valariel leaned back in the water soaking and scrubbing her hair until every last bit of blood and offal disappeared and was swept away by the gentle current in the pool. Looking down at her reflection, she marveled at her eyes. So long they had been that deep, rich brown of childhood. So long she had wished to see a new shade, and now her wish had been granted. Her eyes were a sapphire blue with a darker blue ring around the outside of the iris. Valariel allowed herself a moment of vanity – another trait she had inherited from Haldir – and though how lovely a shade they were.
Then she chuckled to herself and rinsed her hair one last time. She absently looked at the ends of her hair – it was a light blond, nearly a silver blond, just like her father. Vaguely she remembered her mother's hair had been a richer gold. More like Lady Galadriel's or Legolas'.
Legolas.
Valariel had never forgotten the Prince of Mirkwood, but she also never mentioned him again to her father. Often she would dream of him; sometimes she would merely see his face and she wondered if she were seeing what he was doing in some far corner of Middle Earth. Other times they would interact, sometimes quite intimately, and she would wake flushed and warm.
She looked up at the stars as she settled further into the pool's warm embrace. "Now, feahoon," she whispered, "we are both ready. I have but to find you again in this great expanse of Middle Earth."
She spent some time sitting at the edge of the pool, wrapped in a light robe that had been left for her. Finally she stood and left the screening of leaves and ivy. Her father was waiting.
"I wish to begin more formal training," she said. "I have lingered too long in the rosy daybreak of childhood. There is much time to be made up. I would take my place among the Archers of 'Lorien."
Making up time was no idle boast on Valariel's part. Within the week she'd begun her training and she excelled at all tasks, driving herself without mercy and with no tolerance for mistakes. She soon jumped ahead of even her age-mates in skill and ability. Soon Lady Galadriel even asked Valariel to carry messages on behalf of Lothlorien to other parts of Middle Earth.
It was while she was out on an errand for the Lady of the Wood that Legolas returned to Lothlorien in the company of two Men, a Dwarf, and four small people who called themselves Hobbits…
** ** ** ** ** ** **
I'm glad everyone is enjoying Valariel's story so far. Thank you Romula L., Mercury G. and Evenstar E. for all of the feedback, comments & support. Haldir's Heart & Soul, glad you're liking the story as well. We're about half-way through. Please keep the ideas and suggestions coming!