Synopsis:
In the time before the War of the Ring, a loved one
was lost. Now, in the peace that follows, Valraen, the King's own cousin
has been found. But her past is covered in darkness and Valraen has no
memory of herself or the Elf she loved. As the forces of darkness that
separated them gather once more, can Legolas bridge the distance between them
and reclaim the one he lost?
Hi All! Here is Chapter 10 for your reading pleasure. Thanks to all those who reviewed. I apologise for the delay. I've started my course in creative writing last week and its taken up a fair bit of time (as you can imagine).
Marpessa – Well… at least its not IMpure filth, so it can't be all bad, eh? Can I make a request for no more flames please. I welcome constructive criticism with open arms but 'pure filth' followed by no explanation doesn't quite cut it. 'Pure filth because…' would have been much better. I don't write fanfiction to churn out work of brilliance, I write it to practice the craft of writing. I admit its kinda cheesy but it's a 'I'm-having-fun-writing-it-and-some-people-have-fun-reading-it' kinda cheesy and I think that at least should be respected. Nuff 'said.
Aramis – Thanks for your comments (always welcome). Being from Australia, I write with UK/ Australian English so you'll notice that some of the spelling is indeed different. E.g. colour/ color, flavour/ flavor, grey/ gray, jail/ gaol, organise/ organize etc. Hope this doesn't make it too confusing. J
Legal Stuff – All characters (except Valraen/ Arienel; The Master and Fidelian)
belong to Tokien The Great. None to me (more's the pity). I am but a
trespasser on his glory.
Chapter 10: Kaimel'triall
Legolas lay stiller than death across a high wooden platform beside Valraen. Large white candles, which had been lined up behind Valraen's head, now surrounded the two lovers, throwing an unnatural circle of light across them and casting the rest of the room into darkness. As the dreamer, Valraen had been dressed in white robes to symbolise the light she would need to find her way back to her path. Long bell sleeves covered her pale hands, while the skirt, drawn in at the waist with a golden rope, fell low to cover her feet. As the seeker, Legolas had been dressed in black pants and tunic drawn in at the waist with a leather belt. With him he took only three things – the bow given to him by Galadriel, his Elven arrows and the green Elfstone of the King. Legolas had not wanted to take this last one, believing it too precious but Aragorn had insisted. In his heart he felt that it would help to bring his cousin back.
Only one other figure stood within the circle, dressed now in dark blue robes and looking almost as pale as the two figures lying prone before her. With her husband and Gimli watching silently from somewhere within the deep black, Arwen dipped her thumbs into a bowl of athelas-scented oil and placed them gently on the foreheads of the two lovers.
Mindful of the moon-shaped tattoo on the forehead of her cousin, she traced a circle clockwise on each to symbolise the union she as about to assist. She placed her hands on their heads, closed her eyes and began her quiet chant.
***
Sana lye a'kaimelar…From where he lay, Legolas felt Arwens warm hands upon his head. Relaxing his muscles as much as he could, he forced his focus away from Valraen and on to the voice above him.
Re ya naa yassene a'mori mandu…He felt his body becoming heavy as he let Arwen's words move through his mind.
Sana lye a'wanwa…A point of light opened up in the dark whorl behind his eyelids as he felt his mind move forwards to the circle Arwen had traced on his forehead.
Re ya naa yassene hisie en kaimelar…Relaxing further into the trance, Legolas felt his focus slipping into the light, which had now grown to form a sort of tunnel. He felt his heartbeat slow until he lost the sense of it altogether. It was, he thought distantly with the slightest panic, very much like dying.
Sana handelie sen ar' yanwa sen…
Arwen's voice now magnified in his head until he was conscious of nothing but the sound of it. The light it produced danced in white-blue circles around him. A soft, pulsing vibration echoed through him, drawing him in.
Ona ho aut' yassene kard en kaimelar…
Legolas looked to the centre of the light. Within its dazzling depths he saw a stooped figure. Valraen. The pulsing light moved like a heartbeat around him. He let himself slip forward into the tunnel and felt it close around him in a warm embrace.
Lost as he was to the trance, he did not hear the small voice which came from the back of his mind like a remote dream… tampa Legolas… ta naa nuema!
Ignoring words he no longer comprehend, he moved rapidly into the channel of light. He welcomed it until, with an almost perverse delight, he succumbed to it completely.
Sana manu sen ar'yanwa sen
Aa' atta naa er manka lye veryaya
Legolas' body jerked once, twice and then fell still and
silent as the grave.
***
Although she had spoken them quietly, Arwen's last words echoed loudly and seemed to fill the room with a dark threat. From his place outside the sacred circle, Gimli watched as his friend's breathing slowed and seemed to stop.
"Aragorn," he whispered edgily. "I don't think this was a good idea."
Aragorn didn't respond. Although he could barely make out the King's form on the dark edges of the circle, he could tell that he was deeply troubled. A sort of tenseness had filled his body, of the sort that Gimli recalled only in battle, and he seemed either unwilling or incapable of answering.
Arwen placed her thumbs once more into the scented oil. Resting them now onto the still foreheads of her friends, she traced another circle, this time counter-clockwise, to complete the ritual. She raised haunted eyes to the darkness before her as she stepped back and out of the sacred space.
"It is done," she said.
***
Legolas was lost in an ocean of light. Its edges seemed endless, bleeding into his black form and blinding him. He no longer saw the silent figure before him. The vortex surrounding him had swept her away. He felt as if he were sinking and rising simultaneously, as if waves of white carried him across the landscape.
He needed to move on from here, he realised, or risk being lost forever in this between place.
'Tua amin, Valraen!' he whispered. 'Show me where you are…'
Suddenly, a black hole opened before him. The light around him seemed to shift and swell, pouring into the open space, leaving an even more ominous nothing behind.
Gathering his courage, Legolas leapt into the hole, launching himself into the abyss beyond.
***
Fidelian sat in his Master's well-lit cave on the edge of a small jagged rock. The one-eared magician had been sitting in exactly the same spot for the past day. Pulling his dirty robes closer around him, he tried not to whince at the sharp cramps shooting up his withered legs.
Before him, the Master sat in front of a large wooden table, with his arms spread and his eyes closed. Although he had not woken once since taking the potion, Fidelian dared not move. The Master had told him to keep watch and it was more than his life was worth to do otherwise. If he had only known that it would take so long, he would have brought along something to eat.
"Aaaarrgh!"
Fidelian jumped as the man before him let out a great shout. His face, for so long marked only by the briefest smiles or almost impercetible frowns, was now lit with a strange triumphant look. The magician tried not to shiver at the menacing image it formed.
"So, Legolas Thandruilion," the Master whispered, his eyes moving rapidly beneath the closed lids. "Lle tula tyal… welcome, old friend… welcome to the abyss…"
With the hair on his thin neck standing on edge, Fidelian settled carefully back down onto the rock. Who or what, he wondered anxiously, is Legolas?
***
Elvish/ English translation c/- The Grey Company (www.grey-company.com)
Tampa = Stop
Ta naa nuema = It's a trap
Lle tula tyal = You have come to play
The Ritual
OK… the following is a translation of the ritual, based on a poem I made up. (Hope I didn't stuff up the Elvish too much but don't flame me if I did).
Sana lye a'kaimelar
Re ya naa yassene a'mori mandu
Sana lye a'wanwa
Re ya naa yassene hisie en kaimelar
Sana handelie sen ar' yanwa sen
Ona ho aut' yassene kard en kaimelar
Sana manu sen ar' yanwa sen
Aa' atta naa er manka lye veryaya
Take us to the dreamer
The one within the dark abyss
Take us to the lost one
The one within the dreamer's mist
Take their minds and join them
Let him walk within the dreamer's lair
Take their souls and bind them
May two be one if each would dare