AN: Thank you SO much *everyone* for all the reviews! A lot of people are thinking Haldir/Celebithil. But I said it takes much more than a one-word answer to explain, neh? We'll see what you think after this chapter. Mwhahaha! ^_^'
Tenshi-chan- I'm flattered that you're comparing Niirer to Always With You. Hennaid! But I assure you, as you will soon discover, that this will take a very different twist. ::grins evilly:: And don't give up on the H/H idea! That's unique and we need more creativity around here! Just think for yourself and don't worry if two minds think of a similar good idea. :D Anyways, I'm planning a H/Elrohir/Elladan triangle. Can't get much weirder than that. ^_^'
And gomen nasi to Kiwi and anyone else who is having trouble with the elvish. Guess I got a little carried away. ^_^' I complied a mini-dictionary to help. It's a mix of Official Tolkien Sindarin/Quenya, Grey Company elvish, and other tidbits I've picked up.
Calli-chan's Frequently Used Elvish Dictionary
Ume - yes
N'ume - no
Namarie - 'Farewell'
Suliad - friendly greeting (i.e. 'Hi!')
Amin hiraetha - I'm sorry
Diola lle - Thank you (according to the Grey Company)
Hennaid - Thank you (according to the movie)
Mani? - What?
Ai - little or small (so Aicath is 'little cat' and Aikuu is 'little crescent moon')
Tarien - Princess
Periannath - elvish name for Hobbits
Istari - wizards
Imladris - Rivendell
Mithrandir - Gandalf ('Grey Pilgrim')
Vakhar - the elite group of guards on the borders of Lorien. (singular: Vakha)
mellyrn - 'mallorn'; these are the golden trees of Lorien
talan - 'flet'; basically tree-houses
lembas - 'waybread'; the nourishing bread of the elves for long journeys
This has also been posted at the beginning of chapter 2 and will be posted randomly in the future to help. Thank you all again and please review!
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For one time in her life, she wished only to cry. But the tears would not come. In shock, her tear ducts had dried up like a desert, but her heart was inundated with pain.
She pulled her dark cloak closer around her. She did not possess the powers of Luthien to weave a cloak of secrecy, but for once she wanted to be, like her foremother, nothing more than a shadow, alone and unnoticed.
She hugged her knees and sobbed into them. How could he be gone? He was Mithrandir, wisest and greatest of the Istari. He was her friend. She saw him in the Mirror two days before. How could he suddenly leave the living world?
A thin salty tear slid down her cheek. She tasted it on her lips, and her eyes began to fill with water. Curling up and ducking her head down, she cried to her knees of the sudden loss.
Below, the small silvery steam sang softly and sadly. Celebithil gradually quieted and listened to its mournful but comforting song. Lifting her head, Celebithil found that in her blind grief she had fled to the branch of a tree overlooking the water, where she now sat huddled between the trunk and the limb. Stars glimmered above, especially Gil-Estel, and Rana shone brightly, comforting the heart of the Silvermoon. ['Rana' name for the Moon among the Noldor elves. 'Gil-Estel', Star of Hope, is Earendil].
In a dream, it seemed, she heard elven voices begin to sing. Leading them all, she picked out the familiar voice of Naurfea, her beloved (though sometimes arguesome) friend and maiden, singing in the ancient tongue of the elves.
"A Olorin i yaresse [Olorin who once was...]
Mentaner i Numeherui [Sent by the Lords of the West]
Tirien i Romenori [To guard the lands of the East]
Maiaron i Oiosaila [Wisest of all Maiar]
Manan elye etevanne [What drove you to leave]
Norie i melanelye?" [That which you loved?]
Celebithil listened and her heart lifted as she recalled the great deeds of Gandalf in his life. "Mithrandir," she softly sang with Naurfea, her voice full of sorrow. "Mithrandir, A Randir Vithren." [Mithrandir, O Pilgrim Grey]
"U-reniathach i amar galen [No more will you wander the green fields of this earth]
I reniad lin ne mor, nuithannen [Your journey has ended in darkness.]
In gwith ristennin, i fae narchannen [The bonds cut, the spirit broken]
I lach Anored ardhon gwannen [The flame of Anor has left this world]
Caled Veleg, ethuiannen." [A great light, has gone out.]
"Hiro hon hidh ab 'wanath," she prayed to the stars. [May he find peace after death (May he rest in peace)]. Earendil shone down upon her, sadly and brightly.
In that upper world, above the ground and seemingly an arm's reach from the heavens, time had little meaning. Celebithil had no idea how long she sat there, alone and quiet, far from the bustle of the tree-palace.
At length, soft noises below caught her attention and awakened her from her stupor. A tall broad-shouldered figure sat beside the stream, half-heartedly dropping pebbles into the silvery waters. Above, Celebithil stealthily crawled from her leafy hiding spot out onto the branch to get a better view of the intruder.
"How can there be any hope for Gondor?" the figure, now clearly a man, muttered as he watched the golden sands of Lorien slip from his palm through his calloused fingers. Celebithil, far out on the branch, leaned down to catch his soft-spoken words.
"How can there be any hope for Middle Earth? We are taking the Ring to darkness. And Gandalf... Gandalf has already succumbed to the Darkness. There is no hope for us." He took his head in his hands and began to weep. Celebithil looked down with similar sorrow.
"Why?" he murmured suddenly. "WHY?! ARRRGH!!!" He jumped up and began running along the banks of the steam, aggressively kicking sand and pebbles into the waters, trying to take out his frustration and sorrow on the ground itself.
Leafy foliage from a branch above blocked Celebithil's vision as he ran along, so she quickly climbed further out on the branch to watch the strange actions of this man as he ran madly around the steam.
There was a sickening groan that brought Celebithil back to the branch on which she lay. She gulped as she realized too late that she had gone out too far on the thinning branch and it could no longer support her weight, even as an elf. There was a nasty snap as the part of the limb was suddenly set free from the tree and it plummeted to the earth with the Silvermoon. She tumbled to the ground unhurt, but tangled among bushes and shrubs. [AN: I know, I know. What a surprise. ^_^'].
The man froze. "Who disturbs my solitude?" he said, turning. Celebithil, freed from the shrub, shrank against the tree trunk and tried not to breathe. "Who dares mock my grief?" he called louder as he madly ran towards the tree. "You shall not leave this place alive!!"
In an instant, the man's sword was in hand, and he was hacking at the bushes concealing Celebithil. "I see you, creature! Do not move and your death shall be swift. For you come to mock and destroy me, and then befoul this fair land. But you shall do neither! For I am your death and your doom!"
Celebithil ducked quickly as the sharp sword swiped the air where her head had been a moment before. Giving no chance for rest, he immediately plunged his sword again towards the figure cloaked in darkness. She squealed and rolled aside just in time. The sword point was embedded in the tree.
"Amin hiraetha, toror'orn," she whispered to the poor tree as she quickly fled from the madman as he tried to free his sword from the wood. ['I'm sorry, brother tree.'] She set off in a desperate sprint for her life in the opposite direction. But in a matter of moments, the heavy boots of a crazed man pursued her light elven feet.
She ran, without direction or course or path. She had no idea whether she ran towards the city or from it. Her mind was a blur, only focused on the trees before her to put space between herself and the madman with a sword.
She leapt, ducked, turned, and zigzagged, but nothing seemed to lose her hunter. The insane predator ran straight and true, never faltering and heedless of all before him but to destroy the shadowy figure.
She had no idea how long or far she led this wild chase. So she was surprised when she heard a strange gurgling sound before her. She might have guessed its source, had she not been distracted by the abrupt halt to the heavy sound of pursuing feet.
She breathed a sigh of relief. "So I finally lost him," she said to herself as she slowed to a light jog. She approached the source of the gurgling noise, a river, and stopped to bend over and catch her breath. She took in large gulps of air, trying desperately to return oxygen to her limbs and not pass out after the long sprint for life.
"The Celebrant," she muttered, looking out at its silvery waters in the moonlight. "I had no idea I had come this far. It will be a long hike back to Caras Galadhon, that is sure. And I will have to be sure that these strange foreigners are watched closely and do not go mad again to kill one of us."
There was a strange yell behind her, and in a split second, before even her elven senses could react, she found herself pushed over and her face in the dirt, the weight of someone many times heavier than herself holding her down. Her breath came in short frightened gasps, and she tried not to cry out in pain as her arms were crossed and crushed behind her back. The man smiled evilly and triumphantly. He stood, adjusting all his weight to his one foot which was pressed on top of her crossed arms, crushing them against her back and almost grinding her body to the ground. She closed her eyes; if he did not kill her soon, she felt sure she'd die from the heartless crushing.
Celebithil thought she saw something gleam in the starlight out of the corner of her eye as he held his sword aloft. "Now you die," he said, his voice deadly quiet as he prepared to plunge the sharp metal into her back.
"Ed' i'ear ar'elena, tampa!" she cried desperately. "N'awra amin!" ['By the Sea and Stars, stop! Don't hurt me!']
Above her vulnerable body, his arm paused. Celebithil's heart pounded wildly in her ears as she felt the breeze blow hints of the cold metal near her helpless flesh.
But slowly the curtain of madness was lifted from the man's eyes. "But you are one of the Fair Folk!" he said with surprise, lowering his sword and lifting his foot from her crushed arms.
"Lle nowa, Unguer?" she said sarcastically. ['You think, Hollow One?']
He sheathed his sword and stepped back as she slowly sat up while rubbing her arms and massaging her back, trying to regain normal circulation.
"I thought you to be a shadow of the Nameless Realm," the man explained as Celebithil tested her feet, to be sure they would hold her, and slowly stood. "I never guessed . . . But who are you? And why did you spy on me?"
He reached out and pulled back the hood, which still concealed Celebithil's face. Furious crystalline eyes glared up at him as her silvery hair spilled down her shoulders. There was a sharp intake of breath from the man.
"It was you whom invaded my sorrow, Engwa," she said angrily before he could comment on her being a she-elf. "You are not the only one who mourns the loss of Lord Mithrandir." ['Engwa' is a name for Men. It means 'Sickly'.]
The man looked surprised and shocked. "Gandalf. You. . . you knew him?"
"Far better than you could ever claim. I have known him all my life."
"And how long would that be?" asked the man almost hesitantly.
"One thousand, eight hundred and fifty-two years," said Celebithil proudly. "And six months," she added on an afterthought.
The man gasped in shock. "But... but that was nearly a thousand years before the Stewards began to rule Gondor, nearly a thousand years before King Earnur rode off to challenge the Witch-king of the Nazgul and never returned. And the Stewards have been ruling for hundreds upon hundreds of years! How can one so young as yourself claim such an age?"
Celebithil chuckled, shocking the man even more. "You know your history well, Firima. [This is another elvish name for men, which means 'Mortal']. You must be the man of Gondor from the Fellowship, Boro-... Boro--..." She paused and looked at him questioningly. "Borothor?"
"Nay, I am Boromir, son of Denethor. But how do you know my name? I did not proclaim it."
Celebithil hesitated. She quickly decided not to speak of the Mirror, nor even mention her grandmother. "You forget that foreigners are not often permitted in Lorien," she improvised. "So when eight strangers come, news spreads rapidly."
Boromir raised his eyebrows. "Then my companions and I are the talk of your fair country. Should I view this as a compliment?"
Celebithil laughed. "Ume, [Yes] it could be viewed as one. You crossed our borders only two days ago, yet already you are greatly renowned in our country."
"I am honored," he said softly. He inclined his head in a bow, but his eyes never left her face. Celebithil felt her breathing quicken as she almost fearfully held his strange gaze. The look on his face was foreign to her, and she was not sure she liked it.
"But it is obvious that you know little of elvish years and customs," she said, tearing her eyes away quickly and staring at the ground. She reminded herself that this mortal had just tried to kill her. She reminded herself that this was an unworthy Engwa ['Sickly'] to whom she was speaking, and she was a High-Elven lady, considered a Tarien en Edhil [Princess of the Elves]. She turned her back on him and began to walk along the shore of the Celebrant while speaking at random. "To elves, you must be at least a millennium to be considered mature. Though our eternal appearances become permanent around a century old, our wisdom must still grow and multiply, year by year." She splashed her feet in the silvery waters of the river and paused, looking up at the stars. "At not even two millennia, I am still considered young to my people." Her face darkened. "A child to some."
Her eyes drifted past Gil-Estel and all the glorious constellations to the setting moon and the eastern horizon. The night was dimming and a faint hue was appearing where the land became one with the sky.
"Vasa returns," she said softly.
"Vasa?" said a voice behind her.
"The Sun," she said quietly, more as an automatic reply than remembering the man behind her.
"I have tarried long," she said out loud to herself. "Punishment surely awaits me if my absence is discovered."
Without another thought, she turned quickly and began to sprint back to the golden woods. There was a cry behind her as she reached the eaves of the woods. She paused, suddenly remembering Boromir.
"A name, anything, lady! Who are you and how can I find you again?" he cried as she turned to leave.
She smiled slightly despite herself. "They call me Celebithil. Ask any, and they shall seek me, though I may be hidden from many eyes."
She quickly turned and, without waiting for a reply, sprinted from his sight, leaving Boromir to discover a few moments later that he had no idea how to return to Caras Galadhon.
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AN: Interesting turn of events, neh? Boromir acted weird in the beginning, I know. It was hard to explain. Call it 'Blind Grief' if you like. The way I see it, the Ring already had a foothold on him and was probably corrupting him even in Lorien. So it is quite possible that it could blind his eyes to do such a thing as almost kill an innocent.
As for Usa, I know it isn't likely that she'd recover from such a traumatizing experience quickly. And she won't. It was curiosity and amusement at this mortal that temporarily bridged the two, but it will be a while before she will trust him.
And the elvish of this chapter is a big mix of a lot of stuff. All the names for Men are directly from the Simarillion and other Tolkien things. The song is from the movie soundtrack. Several of Celebithil's outbursts are from the Grey Company site. Her wish for Gandalf to Rest in Peace is the modified version of what Legolas says in the movie upon discovering (what they think is) the remains of Merry and Pip. So in other words, I like variety. And using all I can to get as close to the real thing as possible.
Thank you for your dedication in reading and please take the extra moment to review. Swift water and light laughter till next we meet! Ja!
~Calli-chan