A/N: Never fear! I am extending most of the chapters so that you have more
LotR goodness to go back and read! Yaaaaay! And Cherrie, I didn't post
that. *points out* That's the whole point. . . Anyway, back to the
extending-ness. It might take me a while, since inspiration is hard to find
sometimes, and my life hasn't exactly been the most motivating, idea-giving
environment in the past week or so. But you don't want to hear the mindless
ramblings of a teen that you all probably have heard before (yes, I am a
teen. Beware.), so without further ado, I give you . . . *dramatic bow*
CHAPTER 15!!!!!!!! *prances away*
Disclaimer: JRRT Is the Mighty Father of all things good. A.k.a. Lord of the Rings. I own only the stuff that you haven't seen before, and if you have seen it and it isn't in LotR, you've read something of my book! Yay! This is good. Okay, here it is!
15. Nightmares and Torment.
**Flashback**
A young child ran down a hallway, her footsteps echoing eerily in the small, silent house. Her black hair streamed out behind her, and she clutched a handmade doll in excitement. The toy was poorly sewn, with the eyes crooked and too small, the hair thin and ragged, and the dress different colors from where she had run out of thread. Still, the child was beaming as she dashed down the foyer.
"Mama, mama!" she called, pausing to look around. Not seeing her mother, the girl continued on her hurried search, almost tripping over her own feet in her haste to find her parent. Stumbling outside, she came across her mother kneeling beside the small river that ran through their home. The woman had long, glossy black hair just like her daughter's, and chocolate eyes softened with love for her family. She was young, so that her skin had not creased, and her eyes still danced with adolescent excitement. She turned to see the girl running out and laughed.
"What have you made, Kalia?" She asked, spreading her arms. The child jumped into her lap.
"I finished my doll, mama!" Kalia said, her voice bubbling with joy. "For you," she added shyly, handing it to her mother. The woman hugged her daughter, examining it.
"Why thank you, my dear. You've done a fine job with this." Reaching back, she unfastened something around her neck. "And this is for you." Curiously, Kalia dropped her doll on her mother's lap and took the object. She smiled in delight, seeing it. It was her mother's locket, fashioned of pure gold, that Kalia had always loved. The thin chain was light, but the actual charm was relatively heavy in her small palm. The front was decorated with the symbol of the Tuathe people on it, and the back was engraved with the words 'Antome sela domen'. 'Forever as One.'
"Thank you, mama!" Kalia whispered, throwing her arms around her mother.
"I expect it will be too big for you right now, but do not despair. If you do not lose it, you will be able to wear it when you are older," the woman said to her. Gently, she pried Kalia off of her. "Now, go find your father. He was supposed to meet me here an hour ago." Nodding, the child ran off.
Ten years later, an older Kalia sat erect on her chestnut stallion, Mikari. In her language, it meant 'The Proud', but Kalia had wondered why she hadn't named him 'The Stubborn' during his training. These were not her thoughts, however, as she absently ran her fingers through his coarse mane.
The horse stood on the crest of the highest hill, near her home. A fierce wind whipped the sun kissed land, though it wasn't the wind that brought tears to Kalia's eyes. Her locket stayed firmly against her chest, the heavy gold undaunted by the winds. One slender hand tightly clutched it as the youth looked out across her realm.
Every building was burning. The fires raged higher and higher the longer she watched them, and the screams grew louder. Only three voices concerned Kalia, however; Railien's, and her mother's and father's. The words her leader had said to her repeated in her head over and over, along with that of her parents'.
"Go, Kalia. Get out of here while you can," she could hear her mother tell her in a low voice, her beauty blemished with fear and sorrow. Her father's yells echoed in the background. She could also hear Railien speaking- "Protect them long for me, Kalia." Both voices mixed until she could not tell the difference between them. The rubbing of her heavy black cloak against her cheek and the nip from Mikari on her foot brought her back to the present, and Kalia took in a shuddering breath. When the blurs through her village were mostly red, the color of Tokilor's armies, she turned her horse and, with a whispered word to him, galloped away from her homeland forever.
**End Flashback**
Tears were in Kalia's eyes as she remembered all of this. She had not thought in detail about her parent's death in a long time, even though they were always in the back of her mind. She slowly bent down and picked up one of her carelessly discarded boots, sticking her hand in it. Finding the hidden area meant for depositing weapons, she drew out the golden necklace and stared at it. She shut her eyes tightly, closed her hand around the necklace, and buried her head in her arms. The woman's knees were drawn up, an arm around them and her forehead pressed into them. Kalia's black hair streamed along her arms, a silky curtain to hide her face. Now alone, her body shook with silent sobs.
"Mother," she managed to whisper through her tears. "Father. . . Railien. I will not fail you." In her mind, her beautiful mother, her caring father, and her delightful Railien were all gathered around her. In her mind, she was shedding her tears with her mother's comforting arms around her, holding her close. In her mind, she was a child again, when everything was simple. . . In her mind. In reality, she was alone. She had been that way for so long, and now she had nearly forgotten what it was like to be wanted, to love and be loved.
Now, she was alone, like she had been for so very long. 'What I wouldn't give to have them back,' she thought. Misery loved company, and she welcomed it with open arms at the moment. She allowed her mind to wander back to everyone that she had loved, allowed a faint smile to grace her lips, and imagined them around her. Kalia saw, in her mind's eye, everyone together again, picturing them all in her room. They were laughing, smiling. . . Happy. And she was among them.
But another figure was with them, a shadow amidst the crowd. Curiously, the Tuathe woman willed the image to become clearer, and it did. She recognized the fair face and soft blue eyes immediately, though was uncertain of how Legolas had managed to enter her mind when she hadn't even been thinking of him in the back of it. Stranger still, he seemed to be glowing with a brilliant white light that caused all the other images to fade. Her attention fixed on the elf, Kalia didn't notice.
In bewilderment, she watched as he began to approach her, his light footsteps barely audible . . . And yet, they seemed to be all she could hear. He was now the only thing she saw, a clear picture against a background of pure white. Now, she noticed, he held a bundle. This confused her more than ever. The elf was smiling, too; only a small smile, tugging at the corners of his lips, but behind it she noticed so much euphoria she was amazed he could filter all of it into such a small thing. When he handed her the bundle and she looked into it, however, she realized why.
Kalia sucked in a breath as she gazed at the sleeping child in her arms. It had to be a newborn, but already she could see sleek black tufts of hair. Somehow, though she couldn't place how she knew it, the Tuathe woman knew it was a girl. Around her neck was Kalia's golden locket, and she gasped upon seeing it. Beneath the closed lids, she thought she noted a sliver of astonishing blue, much like. . .
Her own eyes wide, the female raised them to meet Legolas' in astonishment. She did not believe it, she couldn't. Still, everything she was seeing, along with the sparkle in the elf's blue eyes, pointed to the conclusion her mind refused to grasp. Legolas bent over, and Kalia felt the soft brush of his gentle kiss, and then. . . He was gone. The baby was gone. She was still sitting on her bed in the room she detested, with the leader she hated. She was still shaking, but this time it was with fear and realization than with grief.
"It can't be," she whispered, slowly opening her hand and gazing at the pendant. Still, her hands inadvertently slid down to her stomach. Were her powers growing again? Did she have a daughter growing within her?
Legolas wandered through his forest, the once so familiar land now a mystery to him. He used to know every tree, every plant, every leaf by mere touch, but now. . . Now even the sight of them was strange to his eyes. The elf didn't particularly care at the moment, though, since he had a destination in mind. He strode through the trees, barely hearing the calls of his name. These he ignored, not wanting to have to deal with the stiff formalities and false smiles.
The elf took a sharp turn left near the heart of Mirkwood, and made his way off the path to where the trees grew thicker and closer together. Climbing up one and walking along the branches with such grace as was natural, he kept his eyes below, searching for something. Finally, he jumped off, landing in his special clearing. Legolas smiled, looking around. Everything was exactly how it had been the last time he was here, and that was comforting. But his smile faded not long after he had settled down in his usual spot.
Something was different. He could sense it. The peacefulness was. . . Flawed, tainted somehow. He looked around again, mentally making sure everything was truly in its proper place. But no, it wasn't an object. It was a feeling in the air. The elf sighed in frustration, realizing what it was that was different.
Kalia. Last time he had come here was when he'd first met her, and oh, what a wonderful experience it had been. He had been fighting to deny it, to her and himself, but now that she wasn't here he embraced the memory willingly. Legolas closed his eyes, allowing himself to remember when her lips had first claimed his. And that was how they had stayed, he realized suddenly. He shook his head, returning to the memory.
He reminisced about her, alone and letting himself do so just this once. No harm could come of one memory, he reasoned. So he reveled in the remembrance of her softness, the sensation of her touch that, for some reason, burned oh so clearly in his mind. The elf remembered how he had felt when he'd first gazed upon her beauty, and shivered when it came back with another one of those irritating jolts near his heart. What in the name of Earendil was going on with him?
With a sigh, he sat up to try to think. After all, that was the reason he'd come back here in the first place. He turned his blue eyes to the river, but all he could seem to think about was how similar being here now was to when he had first met the Tuathe female. He could practically hear her sultry voice whispering in his ear again.
"Fine," he said in annoyance, aloud and yet speaking to himself. "I can't seem to get my mind off of her anyway, so why not? Blasted woman," he added in mutter. Legolas looked thoughtfully at the sky for a moment, pulling out a carved bird. In his spare time, he had finished the one Kalia had thrown at him, and he turned it over and over in his hands. Where to begin thinking, when there was so much to consider? He knew the question, but he didn't know how to get to the answer. The elf groaned. He had barely begun thinking about Kalia, and already he was getting confused. He didn't know how she did it, but next time he saw her he would have to ask.
Well, a little voice in the back of his mind stated, why not start with what you were thinking about last night? Though this wasn't his favorite subject, Legolas wasn't going to be picky with his choice. So his trail of thoughts picked up with what he had last been pondering. . . The subject of whether or not he loved Kalia. The elf had absolutely no idea on how to figure that out, so he let his mind wander in hopes that it would take a helpful path.
Well, who did he know that had been in love before? His father, of course, but the mere possibility of asking King Thranduil for advice on this subject was laughable, and more importantly, nonexistent to the prince. Then he thought of Pelin, and jumped to his feet in earnest. His best friend had been in love, with one of the elves in their city. Legolas didn't know why the name hadn't come up sooner, for he had been the one who comforted the elf when the woman had been married to another. In anticipation, the prince ran out of his place and only slowed to a fast walk when he reached the main paths.
"You what?" Pelin asked in disbelief, not twenty minutes later. He rose from the desk that was positioned near his bed and crossed his arms. "Why, in the name of all things good on this earth, would you want to know more about. . . her?" Legolas shook his head.
"As if you do not already know. There could only be one possible reason I would bring up Ialewen, and I believe you know what that is. So you can stop pretending as though you don't even have suspicions, and tell me what I want to know." There was a silence, in which Pelin's stiff countenance slowly creased into a mischievous grin. He reclined against the desk, arms still crossed, and scrutinized his friend.
"Alright then, who is she?" At the prince's groan, he laughed. "Did you think you could get away with your information that easily? I'm disappointed. . . You should know me better than to let you go without finding out all the details." Legolas sighed.
"Very well," he said in exasperation. "If you insist, then I suppose there is no avoiding it. But you mustn't tell a soul, if you'd like to keep yours," he threatened, and Pelin held up both hands.
"No one will know." So, grudgingly, the prince related everything to his friend. He found telling Pelin about Kalia felt natural, so he related every feeling he'd had, every thought that had been driving him mad for the last few months. He was startled to realize so much time had passed, but he didn't voice this into his tale. Through the whole story, Pelin watched his closest friend with an unreadable expression, merely nodding every now and then. When Legolas had finished, he still did not speak, so the elf prodded him reluctantly.
"Well? What do you think?" he inquired. It was yet another long moment, and then Pelin finally spoke.
"I think. . ."
A/N: BWAHAHAHAHA! Yet a third cliffhanger! But seeing as I got SO few reviews, I noticed that this was my longest chapter and decided that your punishment for not reviewing is a cliffy. So you better review, all you non- reviewing readers I know are reading my story! *eyes them suspiciously* They're always watching. . . For updates. (NOTE: inside joke.) By the way, I have a new poll! In your reviews, which I know you are going to do, tell me whether or not you think I should make a sequel to this book once I'm done? Let me know! Thankies!
Disclaimer: JRRT Is the Mighty Father of all things good. A.k.a. Lord of the Rings. I own only the stuff that you haven't seen before, and if you have seen it and it isn't in LotR, you've read something of my book! Yay! This is good. Okay, here it is!
15. Nightmares and Torment.
**Flashback**
A young child ran down a hallway, her footsteps echoing eerily in the small, silent house. Her black hair streamed out behind her, and she clutched a handmade doll in excitement. The toy was poorly sewn, with the eyes crooked and too small, the hair thin and ragged, and the dress different colors from where she had run out of thread. Still, the child was beaming as she dashed down the foyer.
"Mama, mama!" she called, pausing to look around. Not seeing her mother, the girl continued on her hurried search, almost tripping over her own feet in her haste to find her parent. Stumbling outside, she came across her mother kneeling beside the small river that ran through their home. The woman had long, glossy black hair just like her daughter's, and chocolate eyes softened with love for her family. She was young, so that her skin had not creased, and her eyes still danced with adolescent excitement. She turned to see the girl running out and laughed.
"What have you made, Kalia?" She asked, spreading her arms. The child jumped into her lap.
"I finished my doll, mama!" Kalia said, her voice bubbling with joy. "For you," she added shyly, handing it to her mother. The woman hugged her daughter, examining it.
"Why thank you, my dear. You've done a fine job with this." Reaching back, she unfastened something around her neck. "And this is for you." Curiously, Kalia dropped her doll on her mother's lap and took the object. She smiled in delight, seeing it. It was her mother's locket, fashioned of pure gold, that Kalia had always loved. The thin chain was light, but the actual charm was relatively heavy in her small palm. The front was decorated with the symbol of the Tuathe people on it, and the back was engraved with the words 'Antome sela domen'. 'Forever as One.'
"Thank you, mama!" Kalia whispered, throwing her arms around her mother.
"I expect it will be too big for you right now, but do not despair. If you do not lose it, you will be able to wear it when you are older," the woman said to her. Gently, she pried Kalia off of her. "Now, go find your father. He was supposed to meet me here an hour ago." Nodding, the child ran off.
Ten years later, an older Kalia sat erect on her chestnut stallion, Mikari. In her language, it meant 'The Proud', but Kalia had wondered why she hadn't named him 'The Stubborn' during his training. These were not her thoughts, however, as she absently ran her fingers through his coarse mane.
The horse stood on the crest of the highest hill, near her home. A fierce wind whipped the sun kissed land, though it wasn't the wind that brought tears to Kalia's eyes. Her locket stayed firmly against her chest, the heavy gold undaunted by the winds. One slender hand tightly clutched it as the youth looked out across her realm.
Every building was burning. The fires raged higher and higher the longer she watched them, and the screams grew louder. Only three voices concerned Kalia, however; Railien's, and her mother's and father's. The words her leader had said to her repeated in her head over and over, along with that of her parents'.
"Go, Kalia. Get out of here while you can," she could hear her mother tell her in a low voice, her beauty blemished with fear and sorrow. Her father's yells echoed in the background. She could also hear Railien speaking- "Protect them long for me, Kalia." Both voices mixed until she could not tell the difference between them. The rubbing of her heavy black cloak against her cheek and the nip from Mikari on her foot brought her back to the present, and Kalia took in a shuddering breath. When the blurs through her village were mostly red, the color of Tokilor's armies, she turned her horse and, with a whispered word to him, galloped away from her homeland forever.
**End Flashback**
Tears were in Kalia's eyes as she remembered all of this. She had not thought in detail about her parent's death in a long time, even though they were always in the back of her mind. She slowly bent down and picked up one of her carelessly discarded boots, sticking her hand in it. Finding the hidden area meant for depositing weapons, she drew out the golden necklace and stared at it. She shut her eyes tightly, closed her hand around the necklace, and buried her head in her arms. The woman's knees were drawn up, an arm around them and her forehead pressed into them. Kalia's black hair streamed along her arms, a silky curtain to hide her face. Now alone, her body shook with silent sobs.
"Mother," she managed to whisper through her tears. "Father. . . Railien. I will not fail you." In her mind, her beautiful mother, her caring father, and her delightful Railien were all gathered around her. In her mind, she was shedding her tears with her mother's comforting arms around her, holding her close. In her mind, she was a child again, when everything was simple. . . In her mind. In reality, she was alone. She had been that way for so long, and now she had nearly forgotten what it was like to be wanted, to love and be loved.
Now, she was alone, like she had been for so very long. 'What I wouldn't give to have them back,' she thought. Misery loved company, and she welcomed it with open arms at the moment. She allowed her mind to wander back to everyone that she had loved, allowed a faint smile to grace her lips, and imagined them around her. Kalia saw, in her mind's eye, everyone together again, picturing them all in her room. They were laughing, smiling. . . Happy. And she was among them.
But another figure was with them, a shadow amidst the crowd. Curiously, the Tuathe woman willed the image to become clearer, and it did. She recognized the fair face and soft blue eyes immediately, though was uncertain of how Legolas had managed to enter her mind when she hadn't even been thinking of him in the back of it. Stranger still, he seemed to be glowing with a brilliant white light that caused all the other images to fade. Her attention fixed on the elf, Kalia didn't notice.
In bewilderment, she watched as he began to approach her, his light footsteps barely audible . . . And yet, they seemed to be all she could hear. He was now the only thing she saw, a clear picture against a background of pure white. Now, she noticed, he held a bundle. This confused her more than ever. The elf was smiling, too; only a small smile, tugging at the corners of his lips, but behind it she noticed so much euphoria she was amazed he could filter all of it into such a small thing. When he handed her the bundle and she looked into it, however, she realized why.
Kalia sucked in a breath as she gazed at the sleeping child in her arms. It had to be a newborn, but already she could see sleek black tufts of hair. Somehow, though she couldn't place how she knew it, the Tuathe woman knew it was a girl. Around her neck was Kalia's golden locket, and she gasped upon seeing it. Beneath the closed lids, she thought she noted a sliver of astonishing blue, much like. . .
Her own eyes wide, the female raised them to meet Legolas' in astonishment. She did not believe it, she couldn't. Still, everything she was seeing, along with the sparkle in the elf's blue eyes, pointed to the conclusion her mind refused to grasp. Legolas bent over, and Kalia felt the soft brush of his gentle kiss, and then. . . He was gone. The baby was gone. She was still sitting on her bed in the room she detested, with the leader she hated. She was still shaking, but this time it was with fear and realization than with grief.
"It can't be," she whispered, slowly opening her hand and gazing at the pendant. Still, her hands inadvertently slid down to her stomach. Were her powers growing again? Did she have a daughter growing within her?
Legolas wandered through his forest, the once so familiar land now a mystery to him. He used to know every tree, every plant, every leaf by mere touch, but now. . . Now even the sight of them was strange to his eyes. The elf didn't particularly care at the moment, though, since he had a destination in mind. He strode through the trees, barely hearing the calls of his name. These he ignored, not wanting to have to deal with the stiff formalities and false smiles.
The elf took a sharp turn left near the heart of Mirkwood, and made his way off the path to where the trees grew thicker and closer together. Climbing up one and walking along the branches with such grace as was natural, he kept his eyes below, searching for something. Finally, he jumped off, landing in his special clearing. Legolas smiled, looking around. Everything was exactly how it had been the last time he was here, and that was comforting. But his smile faded not long after he had settled down in his usual spot.
Something was different. He could sense it. The peacefulness was. . . Flawed, tainted somehow. He looked around again, mentally making sure everything was truly in its proper place. But no, it wasn't an object. It was a feeling in the air. The elf sighed in frustration, realizing what it was that was different.
Kalia. Last time he had come here was when he'd first met her, and oh, what a wonderful experience it had been. He had been fighting to deny it, to her and himself, but now that she wasn't here he embraced the memory willingly. Legolas closed his eyes, allowing himself to remember when her lips had first claimed his. And that was how they had stayed, he realized suddenly. He shook his head, returning to the memory.
He reminisced about her, alone and letting himself do so just this once. No harm could come of one memory, he reasoned. So he reveled in the remembrance of her softness, the sensation of her touch that, for some reason, burned oh so clearly in his mind. The elf remembered how he had felt when he'd first gazed upon her beauty, and shivered when it came back with another one of those irritating jolts near his heart. What in the name of Earendil was going on with him?
With a sigh, he sat up to try to think. After all, that was the reason he'd come back here in the first place. He turned his blue eyes to the river, but all he could seem to think about was how similar being here now was to when he had first met the Tuathe female. He could practically hear her sultry voice whispering in his ear again.
"Fine," he said in annoyance, aloud and yet speaking to himself. "I can't seem to get my mind off of her anyway, so why not? Blasted woman," he added in mutter. Legolas looked thoughtfully at the sky for a moment, pulling out a carved bird. In his spare time, he had finished the one Kalia had thrown at him, and he turned it over and over in his hands. Where to begin thinking, when there was so much to consider? He knew the question, but he didn't know how to get to the answer. The elf groaned. He had barely begun thinking about Kalia, and already he was getting confused. He didn't know how she did it, but next time he saw her he would have to ask.
Well, a little voice in the back of his mind stated, why not start with what you were thinking about last night? Though this wasn't his favorite subject, Legolas wasn't going to be picky with his choice. So his trail of thoughts picked up with what he had last been pondering. . . The subject of whether or not he loved Kalia. The elf had absolutely no idea on how to figure that out, so he let his mind wander in hopes that it would take a helpful path.
Well, who did he know that had been in love before? His father, of course, but the mere possibility of asking King Thranduil for advice on this subject was laughable, and more importantly, nonexistent to the prince. Then he thought of Pelin, and jumped to his feet in earnest. His best friend had been in love, with one of the elves in their city. Legolas didn't know why the name hadn't come up sooner, for he had been the one who comforted the elf when the woman had been married to another. In anticipation, the prince ran out of his place and only slowed to a fast walk when he reached the main paths.
"You what?" Pelin asked in disbelief, not twenty minutes later. He rose from the desk that was positioned near his bed and crossed his arms. "Why, in the name of all things good on this earth, would you want to know more about. . . her?" Legolas shook his head.
"As if you do not already know. There could only be one possible reason I would bring up Ialewen, and I believe you know what that is. So you can stop pretending as though you don't even have suspicions, and tell me what I want to know." There was a silence, in which Pelin's stiff countenance slowly creased into a mischievous grin. He reclined against the desk, arms still crossed, and scrutinized his friend.
"Alright then, who is she?" At the prince's groan, he laughed. "Did you think you could get away with your information that easily? I'm disappointed. . . You should know me better than to let you go without finding out all the details." Legolas sighed.
"Very well," he said in exasperation. "If you insist, then I suppose there is no avoiding it. But you mustn't tell a soul, if you'd like to keep yours," he threatened, and Pelin held up both hands.
"No one will know." So, grudgingly, the prince related everything to his friend. He found telling Pelin about Kalia felt natural, so he related every feeling he'd had, every thought that had been driving him mad for the last few months. He was startled to realize so much time had passed, but he didn't voice this into his tale. Through the whole story, Pelin watched his closest friend with an unreadable expression, merely nodding every now and then. When Legolas had finished, he still did not speak, so the elf prodded him reluctantly.
"Well? What do you think?" he inquired. It was yet another long moment, and then Pelin finally spoke.
"I think. . ."
A/N: BWAHAHAHAHA! Yet a third cliffhanger! But seeing as I got SO few reviews, I noticed that this was my longest chapter and decided that your punishment for not reviewing is a cliffy. So you better review, all you non- reviewing readers I know are reading my story! *eyes them suspiciously* They're always watching. . . For updates. (NOTE: inside joke.) By the way, I have a new poll! In your reviews, which I know you are going to do, tell me whether or not you think I should make a sequel to this book once I'm done? Let me know! Thankies!