Title: Little Swan

Pairing: None

Rating: R

Genre: Angst / Drama

WARNING: Violence

Beta: None

Cast: Haldir, Orophin, Rúmil, Celeborn, Galadriel, OCs

Disclaimer: I own no-one from The Lord Of The Rings. All the characters and place names displayed belong to JRR Tolkien except Seòras, Naelie Beleril and Bricta who are from my own imagination and are the only ones I lay claim to. I do not intend to, nor am I making any financial gain from the writing of this story.

Feedback: Yes please! We "aspiring" authors thrive on the stuff.

Timeline: Before the War of the Ring. Not following movie-verse.

Summary: After her mother's brutal execution, young Naelie and her father are left to piece their lives back together. But the outside world, will not allow this.

Chapter 2

Barely two weeks had passed since Bricta's execution, yet Naelie appeared to be taking it extremely well. Almost too well, Seòras sometimes thought. She helped around the house, just as she had done before. Helping with the cooking, cleaning and preparing the medicines for sale. When she had been alive, Bricta had made it her personal duty to teach Naelie the uses of herbs and other such plants. Naelie only knew the basics of herbal medicine, but she still was a great help to her father.

Seòras smiled as he watched his tiny daughter working around the house. Many a time, she had dropped the wooden bowl used for preparing the plants as she was carrying it to him, for it was almost as big as her. But she would not be deterred or discouraged. She would simply stoop down and pick it up in her arms again. Hugging it tightly to her chest, she would stagger back across the floor, and then Seòras would catch her eye. She would then look up at him with shining green eyes and then break down in giggles when he grinned at her.

She was the best thing that had ever happened to Seòras. Naelie and Bricta were the only two people that had ever meant anything special to him, yet now, with Bricta gone, Seòras wanted more than ever to protect his daughter. That is what Bricta would have wanted him to do, and he vowed to himself, with all he had to do just that.

"Papa?"

Seòras looked down at where his daughter was smiling up at him, holding her hand out to him. He smiled back at her and bent down. "What do you have there, Naelie?" he asked curiously.

"I was moving the herbs when I found this seed" she explained. "Papa, do you think we could plant it outside" she stopped for a moment and continued. "So we can remember mama?"

Seòras gazed in astonishment at his daughter. It was truly incredible that Naelie had taken the news of her mother so well and without many tears. However, he had an idea of the reason why. When she had been around, Bricta had told Naelie about the stars. Every evening, mother and daughter used to sit by the fire and Bricta would tell Naelie a tale before sleep. Seòras remembered what happened one night very well indeed. It had been a clear evening with the stars and moon fully visible in the sky, a slight breeze blowing through the lands. Bricta had sat by the open window with her three year old daughter on her lap, mid-way through telling a story when Naelie had suddenly interrupted.

"Mama?" she had said, pointing out the window towards the stars that gleamed down upon them. "Mama, what are they?"

"They are stars, Naelie" he mother had replied. "And you know what?"

"What?" replied her daughter eagerly.

"All your family are there, Naelie. They all watch over you from those stars and protect you. So when ever you feel alone, just look up and you'll know they are smiling down on you, keeping you safe."

That tale had stuck with Naelie ever since. Even more than the tale of the wolf ambush on their village. More so than the tale of winter and the ice-goblin. "Yes" Seòras thought. "That will surely be why."

"Papa?"

Seòras jerked from his trance as he noted his daughter pulling on his sleeve. "Sorry, Naelie. Of course we can plant it. We'll plant it together and watch it grow".

With that, Naelie skipped happily outside, and Seòras followed.

Every morning after that, Naelie got up at the crack of dawn to water the plant and see if had grown anymore overnight. Over the next few weeks, the plant began to shoot up from the soil in which it had been planted, and soon it began to bloom. Pale blue flowers formed on the end of the stems like dewdrops, glistening on the morning grass.

Naelie devoted her mornings and evenings to the lone plant, and would often take one of her books out and sit with it, sometimes reading aloud to it as if it were one of her own family.

Seòras looked out the window from his morning chores and saw again, his daughter sitting by the plant, thoroughly enthralled in her rather battered, leather bound copy of "The Ice Goblin". He watched her read for a minute or so until she looked up, registered his eyes on her and waved cheerily at him.

Seòras waved back at his daughter, then retreated into the kitchen to prepare the evening meal.

--

"Papa?"

Seòras rolled over in his sleep and ignored the tiny voice in his head. But try as he might, it only grew louder and more persistent.

"Papa! Wake up! Papa!"

Seòras opened his eyes and stared blearily into the darkness. He blinked a few times in an attempt to regain focus and finally, he registered the small figure tugging at his nightshirt.

"Naelie? What?"

"Papa!" whispered his daughter urgently and pointed out the open window. "Papa! Fire!"

Seòras was suddenly wide-awake. He leapt out of bed, rushed to the window and peered out. "Sweet Valar" he murmured.

Outside, the small wooden houses were burning, shining gold and red against the ebony sky. The flames licked their rooftops and walls and finally fully devoured them, like a ravenous beast newly awakened from its slumber. The buildings crumbled into the ground and lay, still burning, still deadly to anyone who neared them. The flames spread all across the ground, taking crops and plants with it in their golden rage. Seòras heard the screams coming from the blazing buildings, of families trapped, unable to escape. He heard the heavy thuds of panicked footsteps, running blindly across the burning, dry ground in frantic attempts to reach safety.

Gruff shouts of triumph emitted from the centre of the village, and as Seòras strained his eyesight, he could make out the solid forms of the wild-men from beyond their village. Long had the hostility existed between the two villages, before Seòras himself had even been born. Smoke billowed from the ignited buildings and like a livid, golden serpent, the flickering flames began to creep towards Seòras' house.

Seòras shook himself violently from his lethargy and plunged back into the reality of what was happening all around him. He wasted no time. Grabbing his dagger and belt from the table he strapped them to his waist, then turned his full attention to his daughter. Bending down, he scooped Naelie up in his arms, put her over his shoulder and sprinted full pelt out of the door. He had only one thought on his mind, and that was to get Naelie to safety. Naelie did not protest against her father, for although she was terrified, she knew that while her father was around her, he would keep her safe.

Seòras ran as far as he could away from the course of the flames, but this was near impossible. Everywhere he ran, new flames would spring up and another house would collapse into ruins. The screams and heart-wrenching pleas for help grew ever louder, and their shrieks fell like the tolling bells upon Seòras' ears. Suddenly, a squeal of distress issued from his daughter.

"Naelie, what is it?" he called to her, still running.

"Papa!" she cried. "Mama's plant!"

Seòras looked back over his shoulder, just in time to see the creeping fire engulf the tiny, fragile plant. It was snuffed out in an instant, and Naelie's heartbroken sobs quickly followed. Seòras skidded to a halt, tears begin to course down his face as he watched their entire house go up in the overwhelming flames. Knowing that he had only a matter of minutes before he and his daughter would become one of the trapped, he turned and bolted.

Running blindly away from the fire, Seòras stumbled frequently. Discarded household items littered the ground, pieces of wooden furniture lay splintered and burned. Here and there, the charred and felled bodies of his fellows lay, spread-eagled out on the ground, their life and spirit wiped out in an instant. It took all his strength for Seòras to not stop and tend to the fallen, knowing that their bodies would be horribly mutilated by the time the wild-men discovered them.

As he passed the collapsed market stalls, Seòras tripped and almost fell onto his face, but grabbed wildly at a tree branch just in time to save himself from hitting the ground. Gathering himself together, he continued running with his daughter clinging to his shoulder in terror. Still running and panting, Seòras hardly noticed that he was leaving the helpless screams and crashing buildings behind him. All around him, the houses grew less and less dense until finally, he ran out into the open, fields his former village a distant, flickering golden blur. Pausing for a moment to catch his breath, Seòras stood, his spare hand clutching his chest as it rose and fell heavily.

Suddenly, Seòras' ear picked up the thudding of heavily shod feet behind him. He chanced a glance over his shoulder and saw two wild-men pursing him, each wielding a blood splattered axe and grunting nefariously.

Seòras sped up his pace and his heart leapt as his eyes glimpsed the border fence in the distance. Naelie began wailing again as her eyes remained fixed on their pursuers. Seòras' heart ached terribly for her. He wanted to calm her, to ease her pain, but he knew that right now, it was not an option.

Finally, Seòras reached the fence and vaulted over it. He didn't look back, knowing all to well that time was not on his side.

The three figures ran across the open fields and dense grasses until in the distance, the gloomy outlines of trees upon the outskirts of the forest, loomed up out of the blackness to greet them. Seòras had always been wary of these woods. Tales had been told to him of their inhabitants before he could walk and talk. Even now, when extra firewood was needed, Seòras would only go to the forest's edge, never deeper. But now, he had no choice. Holding on to his last shreds of hope, he plunged forward into the tenebrous forest.

He heard the shouts and yells of his pursuers, still hot on his tail. The sound of twigs snapping and leaves rustling, echoed through the murky trees. Suddenly, Seòras gave a cry as he tripped over an outgrowing tree root and fell forward onto soft mossy ground. Looking back, he felt a glimmer of hope, light in the dark corners of his heart. The base of the tree had grown so much that even in the darkness, Seòras could plainly see there was a decent sized gap between the roots, big enough for a grown man to lie comfortably inside. Finally, realisation dawned upon Seòras. If he did not get overcome his fear, his enemies would overcome both him and Naelie.

Putting Naelie down, he whispered to her urgently. "Hide yourself here, Naelie" he told her quickly and although terribly frightened, Naelie obeyed and slid underneath the base of the tree, out of sight.

"Stay there" he commanded her. "Papa will be back soon".

Naelie's head peeked out from the tree, her young face a mix of pure fear and sadness. "Don't leave me, Papa!" she begged.

Seòras bent down and kissed her head. "I have to. But I will be back soon. Now, go on. Hide yourself!"

"But-"

"Go!"

Naelie retreated back under the tree and crouched silently out of sight. She pulled her legs tight up to her chest and sobbed almost silently into them.

Outside, the beginnings of a downpour were appearing, and soon heavy raindrops splattered the leaf-strewn forest floor. Seòras gazed upon the tree base, tears making a new appearance. He unsheathed his dagger and turned to run in the direction of the wild-men's cries. Then he stopped, and looked once again at the tree.

"Be safe, my little swan" he whispered.

With that, Seòras turned and darted back through the trees, the rain thundering all around him as he ran. High above the woods and fields, the clouds darkened still and a flash of lightning illuminated the night sky.