Disclaimer: Err, the normal, NONE of these are of my creation, though I wish it was, yeah, all LOTR characters belongs to JRR Tolkien and the other weirdo names are of my silly creations. Yeah =D
Um, too lazy to reply to all reviewers, just wanna say thanks neywayz!!! I will give u each a chocolate cookie!!! Next time, I would be nice and reply all reviews and give all you free food!!!
Ithildriël walked around the Palace with a heavy heart, she occasionally stared out into the forest with longing eyes, finally her stubborn brother Megillan couldn't stand her any longer and treatened.
"Look, keep still, you are stirring up more tension in the air. Go somewhere where you can calm, go to that injured Prince, if he wakes, you have his clasp." Megillan snapped at her, and instead of retorting like she usually does, she walked out of the room and down the stairs to in infirmary.
"Bro, you didn't have to be so harsh, she is worried, she can sense things you know..." Thoron reminded his brother with a glare.
"I know..." sighed Megillan, "I just can't stand her being so...agitated? Can't really find the word...wait, worried, she is hardly like that, it isn't normally her." Megillan replied.
"She needs to experience those things, she is a living person, everyone needs to experience some things. Though since we both like to keep her from being hurt...our pledge to naneth (mum)..." murmured Thoron, the smile that was usually pasted on his face began to diminish.
"Lets not think about naneth, she will scold us into paining ourselves because of her, you know how she is like." responded Megillan, with a tiny smile Thoron swore he saw. But didn't want to continue, and let the past go past, as nothing could have done to bring back the life of a Maiden Elf who was so caring towards them.
She overheard what her brothers whispered amongst themselves and closed her eyes, [So overprotective...] she sighed to herself, [Even that stump of a brother manages to care for me in a...weird sort of way.] she smiled as she walked down the stairs. Her eyes caught the movement in shadows and quickly rushed into the Infirmary to be greeted with a chaotic scene.
The soldiers were demanding to see their 'Master' and their 'Master' was still out, but Marone said he is coming back, but really slowly. Ithildriël cleared her throat in such a royal manner that the soldiers were scared silent for a split of a second, thinking it was their King.
"Sorry to disturb you good Soldiers, but you are all injured and therefore need rest. You are in good care and your Master is too. Please lay down and don't make a chaotic scene." her soft voice echoed in the room and every one of the soldiers felt instant relaxsation ripple through their weary body.
"Please good Lady," one of the soldiers said, "Where are we?" he asked in confusion, as his last memory told him that he was 50 miles from the border, which was then a heck of a long way to the first town.
"You are safe in Cuiviénen." Ithildriël replied to his question. "It is really alarming how you wood-elves travel so far up north. Passing through the horrid of the cold mountains." she said.
"Goodness," breathed the soldier, "We are so far up north..." he murmured.
"Your name please Master..?" asked Ithildriël softly. Unwilling to create suspicion amongst the soldiers.
"Ralen, if it pleases you your Ladyship, just Ralen." Ralen replied.
"Don't call me that, Ladyship is a bit too mannerly, Lady will do." replied Ithildriël with a small smile to the healers in the room, whom nodded in understanding, thanks to the countless times they had to play along with their Princess in concealing her real identity.
"Lady what?" the bold Ralen asked, and the healers smiled in union.
"Ithildriël, good Sir." smiled Ithildriël and without waiting for a reply, she added, "Now, if you will rest under the care of my most trusted healers, you will see yourself recovering in no time." and with a small curtsy she walked towards the small room and opened the door, before closing it behind her.
The Prince was tossing and turning in his bed. Beads of sweat formed on his brows as quickly as Ithildriël could wipe them off, before whispering soothing words to the feverish Prince. She looked at his bandaged wounds and hissed as blood began to seep through them due to his actions. Whispering in Elvish, it seems to have natural calming effects on the prince, which allowed her to rebandage the wounds with extra care.
After finishing, she looked at the Prince and was startled when she saw his silver-blue eyes stare at her.
"You awake?" she asked him softly in common. He gave her a weird expression, which she was puzzled by.
"Heniach nin? (Do you understand me?)" she asked softly in Silvan, and seeing the Prince nodd she proceeded into asking more question. "Manen le (How are you)?"
"I am fine...achy..." replied Legolas in Elvish. "Where am I?" he asked as he looked around the unfamiliar room that had a strong essence of Athelas.
"Cuiviénen Sir." replied Ithildriël. Not willing to address him by his title, incase he freaks and decides to kill her in some way.
"Don't call me Sir. Call me...Legolas..." he quickly finished, and shot her a small smile.
"Maybe Prince Legolas of Mirkwood?" she asked softly, which caused him to jerk upright before collapsing back on the bed as the pain in his shoulder suddenly rose with the unprepared jerk.
"How did..." he muttered and cursed under his breath for the pain.
Her long delicate fingers held out a small mithril clasp, when he saw it, his eyes widened in surprise. "Where did you get that?" he asked surprised.
"It fell from your clothing Prince Legolas, I found it I took away your clothes for a wash and a mend." she replied softly, unwilling to surprise the poor elf any more.
"Oh..." he said as Ithildriël pressed the clasp in Legolas' palm.
"You said Cuiviénen...am I that far up north?" Legolas asked in wonder at the beautiful Maiden Elf in front of him.
"Yes...my people and I have wondered why you have ventured so far up North Prince Legolas." said Ithildriël thoughtfully.
"Please don't keep calling me Prince Legolas, what is your name, your Ladyship..." he began but was interrupted by a strangled cry of the people outside before she rushed to the door and nearly collided with Captain Brethil who rushed into the room to report.
"Apologises your Highness!" cried Brethil as he slammed into Ithildriël in the process.
"Please Captain Brethil..." sighed Ithildriël as Legolas stared open mouthed at her. "Report please." she continued, ignoring the horrid look on Legolas.
"We found a band of elves, a company, they were under attack Lady, greatly outnumbered. We fought...they retreated, but so many were injured, so many dead." shuddered Brethil as he spoke.
"Do they too have a master in command?" asked Ithildriël quietly.
"Yes they did, he is in a serious condition and we are afraid we are loosing him, he is under the care of Marone right now, who is trying to save him." Brethil whispered.
"How many dead?" asked Ithildriël, her eyes closing in fear.
"Just a little less than half, 45, the rest were all injured, seriously some. Deadly wounds...they all tried to keep their master from being hacked into shreds..." replied Brethil. "We buried the dead, well, I didn't but..." he started but Ithildriël nodded in understanding, "...some others stayed to burn the bodies of the orcs we have slained. Only 4 escaped, unfortunately, sorry for not able to kill them all, some of our own were wounded and most of those elves were seriously injured we didn't have much time but to get them back here." replied Brethil, hoping that his Lady wouldn't mind.
"Certainly 4 couldn't take long to kill." said Ithildriël a little stiffly.
Brethils' face flushed, and blurted out the embarrasing truth, "We didn't have enough arrows..." he said, head down.
"Oh, swords?" she began but stopped, knowing that most elves prefer arrows to swords.
"Our only swordman who was able to keep fighting without loosing too much blood was alone, we didn't want to sacrifice more life, I sincerely apologise for letting the Orcs get away Princess." Brethil said and bowed deeply in regret.
"Don't worry, I would have done the same, next time, take more arrows." smiled the Princess, hoping the lighten the air.
A voice popped up behind them that was temporaily forgotten, "Who is their master?" he asked softly. A tinge of fear traced in his words.
"We didn't hear it Sir, but someone murmured to 'save master Melandîn'." answered Brethil.
Legolas took a sharp intake of breath that caused Ithildriël to spin around and look at him. "Prince Melandîn of Mirkwood, your brother?" whispered Ithildriël softly, not wanting to create any furthur pain in Legolas.
Legolas looked at her with wide eyes, "How did you know?" he asked her sharply.
"With that expression on your face and from the soft murmuring of your own soldiers." replied Ithildriël with courtesy.
"I want to see him." he cried and proceeded itno climbing out of bed. But was stopped by Ithildriël.
"You shall not get out of bed until I tell you so Prince Legolas, I hope you will co-operate with me." Ithildriël said in a soft but stern tone. "Bring Prince Melandîn in here on that spare bed over there, so Prince Legolas won't have Marone screaming after me for not looking after my patients." smirked Ithildriël.
"Yes your Highness." replied Brethil and quickly walked out and informed Marone to move the Prince of Mirkwood into the room.
"Thank you Princess..." began Legolas but was lost for words as he didn't know her name.
"Ithildriël, just Ithildriël please Prince Legolas, no need to be formal with me." she smiled softly to the injured Prince.
"Well...Ithildriël...call me Legolas then..." smiled Legolas. But stopped as he saw his brother being carried into the room.
When Melandîn was carried in, Legolas let out a strangled cry at the horrifying sight of his brother. A bloody mess. Was all he could find to describe it.
"What happened?" cried Legolas and flung himself by the bed.
"Prince Legolas, please, we are trying to stabilize your brother..." cried Marone.
"Just tell me what happened!" cried Legolas as Ithildriël slowly peeled him away from the healers.
"It looks like he took a wound from a poisoned sword, it went clean through him. 2 arrow wounds, shallow, 1 is a glaze, missed him but grazed him. We need to stop the bleeding, it is a wonder he has survived the blood loss..." muttered Marone as she got to work.
"Will he live?" asked Legolas in a panicked voice.
"Not really likely..." Marone responded, and was unprepared for the outburst of Legolas.
"I want you to save him...please!! Please save him, please..." begged Legolas, "He can't die!! Save him! Please!" begged Legolas helplessly, as his silver blue eyes turned sapphire blue, sparkling with tears he tried to hide.
"We will try our best Prince Legolas..." whispered Ithildriël as she resettled Legolas in his bed. "I am sorry for not raising the alarm any earlier..." she whispered.
"What? You knew???" he cried in a sudden loud outburst.
"I..." began Ithildriël but was cut off by Legolas.
"You knew that my people were under attack and didn't help them? What kind of Princess are you? Heartless?" yelled Legolas.
"Prince Legolas, I merely have a feeling, a sight...I am sorry...but I assure you that when it came to me, when I felt it, I immediately sent troops out to help. I apologise for not being able to feel them any earlier...but I will assure you my people will take good care of your brother and make sure he lives..." she quickly calmed him.
"Are you some form of GODDESS or sorcerer that can make people come back from the dead?" he spat angrily, "You look like an Elf who walks around trying to let people know her hard work, which is just walking around lying to people that their loved ones are going to LIVE!"
"I am no Goddess or Sorcerer," mumbled Ithildriël, "I might be an useless Elf, but I do have healing powers to make him hang on, if he allows me."
"Then I suggest you go over there NOW and make sure he hangs ON!" cried Legolas and looked away from her.
Ithildriël looked at the anguished Prince and felt her heart reach out towards him, she knew that the Prince was extremely hurt and nothing could get him to speak nicely, as she too will probably be snapping at another if her one of her two beloved brothers received some horrible wound.
Soon, the healers left the severely wounded prince on the bed, trying their best to revive him but couldn't, signaling for their Princess to come, who whispered in such a soft voice that even the keen elven hearing of Legolas had trouble picking out the words she was muttering.
She slowly took his hands and covered it with her long and delicate fingers. She closed her eyes, searching deep into the wounded soul. He had let go of hope, and has already passed on. Seeing the distressed look on Legolas, she slowly whispered the ancient verse, that was deeply embedded in her mind.
"Telin le thaed. Lasto beth nîn, tolo dan na ngalad. Annon Belain edro hi ammen! Lasto beth nîn, Annon Belain edro hi ammen! Dartho Melandîn, ú-awartha i arad, an i tinnu, egor pada i guruthos nîf-ned anannch lîn!" she whispered in such a soft voice, that none other could hear, even with the keenest Elven hearing they possess.
Slowly, the distressed soul of Melandîn slowly returned into his body, by the command of Ithildriël, his eyes slowly opened to see the beautiful Maiden Elf, who was holding his hand, calling back his soul from the hands of Gods.
"No..." he softly whispered, which caused Legolas to rush to his side, gasping hold of his hand tightly. Just as Ithildriël let go.
"Thank goodness you came back, thank goodness..." whispered Legolas as he held onto his brothers hand, "Don't ever leave...don't leave...thank god you came back..." whispered Legolas.
"Nay Legolas..." Melandîn whispered, "It is my time...don't hold me back..." he said, to no one in particular, but his eyes gazed over to the Maiden Elf who had commanded his soul back into his body.
"Please Ithildriël...don't do that again..." he whispered, but his eyes told her more, [Ithildriël, Estella, the Heir to the title Elven Goddess of Peace].
"Legolas, don't trouble Lady Ithildriël, she is someone with powers, she will help you, don't make trouble for her ok? And don't make her call me back again..." whispered Melandîn softly, wearily. "Let me go back to naneth..." he whispered softly, "It is my time to go..." he whispered and closed his tired eyes.
"No...no please don't go..." whispered Legolas, as tears formed on his fair face. Begging, silently begging for him not to go.
"Legolas...muindor-nín (my brother)...don't say that..."he continued softly, "My time is up here, this isn't goodbye remember?" he tried to persuade his stubborn younger brother, "It is merely a parting, we will meet again."
"Never here, I want you to stay here..." whispered Legolas, as a trickle of tears fell from his silver-blue eyes.
"Legolas...Lasto beth-nin, Cuil ú-brona ui(Listen to me, life doesn't last forever,). We will meet, let me go to naneth now...A im ú-'erin veleth lîn??" Gasped Melandîn.
"Gerich meleth nîn...send naneth my love..." replied Legolas, as tears fell from his blue eyes.
"Hannon le Legolas...Nai tiruvantel ar varyuvantel i Valar tielyanna nu vilya...Ingon ha lù na peltakse aen...namárië penneth, amin mela lle...(Thank you Legolas, may the Valar protect you on your path under the sky, it is time to return, farewell young one, I love you.)" whispered Melandîn and he closed his eyes for the final time, a smile touched his lips as his gaze caught sight of his mother, standing there, waiting for him with open arms.
"Amin mela lle muindor...(I love you brother)" whispered Legolas to the still form of his brother, as tears fell from his eyes, not bothered to wipe them away.
"Namárië..."
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