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, Bricta and Beleril who are from my own imagination and therefore 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 4
Beleril slowly ascended the steps towards Celeborn and Galadriel's talan. He knew that ordinarily, humans were not permitted into their realm unless injured or seeking the service of the Lord and Lady. But still, Beleril argued with himself, they could not turn her away. The idea was absurd, not to mention wholly cruel and heartless to do so. She was only a child, a child cruelly ripped from her family and completely alone. He glanced up at Naelie, her arms still around his neck, and noticed that miraculously she had fallen asleep on his shoulder. He smiled fleetingly at her peaceful face and carried on towards the talan.
Finally, he reached the door of his Lord and Lady's quarters and he stood completely still. His heart was pounding against his chest, and yet he did not know why. He knew by knocking on the door, he would have to present the child to the Lord and Lady, and then she would be subject to their judgement. He shook himself violently and harshly criticised his thoughts. He was being stupid. They would not turn her away. They couldn't, it wasn't possible. Before he realised what he was doing, Beleril steadied Naelie, raised his other hand slightly, and knocked on the door.
"Beleril?"
It was Celeborn that answered. He gazed down at one of his warriors with supreme curiosity and concern as his eyes fell on the sleeping human child in his arms.
"My Lord". Beleril bowed as best he could and Celeborn, sighing, beckoned him inside.
"I suggest you lay her down there" said Celeborn, gesturing at his bed on the far side of the room.
Beleril did so and was thoroughly relieved when she did not wake.
"Please, sit". Celeborn said indicating the two vacant chairs by the table and window.
Beleril sat, wringing his hands in his lap in such a state of nervousness, that even he could not explain it.
Celeborn walked briskly over to the sideboard and poured himself a small glass of elderflower wine, a delicacy in beverages for Lorien. He offered a glass to Beleril, who refused politely. Celeborn took the second vacant seat and studied Beleril for a few seconds, not long, but long enough to cause the young elf to become even more anxious. Celeborn took another sip of wine, replaced his goblet on the nearest table, and surveyed the young elf through deep grey and wise eyes.
"I find, Beleril" he began. "That it is always best to speak like the stream, not the flood".
"I am afraid I do not understand your meaning, my lord" said Beleril apologetically.
"I mean, that tell me slowly what happened, rather than hurrying like the wind. It will make your heart feel lighter that way."
Beleril nodded, taken aback slightly by his lord's words. For he had indeed been preparing his words to gush out in a hurry, for he had felt that no time should be wasted to pause. But now, after hearing Celeborn's advice, he took a deep breath and began.
"My lord, Orophin and I were out in the woods, a little way from the borders and the rest of the guards, when we heard a distressed cry. We followed the sound swiftly, and soon we came to a small clearing in the trees."
Beleril stopped suddenly, his remembrance of what the child had suffered shown clearly on his face.
"Take your time" said the elven lord gently. "Continue when you are ready".
A minute or so later, Beleril gathered himself together and continued.
"In this clearing, we witnessed the attack on this young girl. She was roughly pinned against a tree by what looked like a northern wildman. But we noticed that she was in fact pinned by a knife that was holding her by her garments to the trunk."
Celeborn's eyes widened in horror at this remark, for as well as being ages old and with the wisdom to prove it, he also knew the full extent of the vicious and bloodthirsty nature of the wildmen. He nodded at Beleril to continue his testimony.
"It would seem that we were there at the right moment, my lord" continued Beleril. "Orophin felled the wildman with his bow and both of us hurried to see if the child was still alive. Remarkably, she was unharmed except for a few small scratches, presumably from where she had fallen".
Beleril faltered again, his grey eyes drifting to glance again at the bed and at Naelie's sleeping and fragile form.
"She has no family then?"
Beleril looked back quickly at Celeborn, surprise obvious in his face. "How did you – "
"There would be no other reason for you to bring her here unless she was grievously injured, which I can see she is not" explained Celeborn.
Beleril bowed his head and nodded. "Yes. She tells us her father was killed".
"And the mother?"
"The child told us she had no-one, so one can only assume that means the mother is dead also".
With a sigh, Celeborn rose and wandered over to the open window, holding his goblet in his hand. Beleril's gaze remained fixed on his lord, even if Celeborn was not facing him. Celeborn stood silent for a few moments, then after another sip of wine, he turned back to Beleril.
"It would seem that we have no other choice. The child is to remain here with us; however, I feel it would be more appropriate if she were housed with an elleth".
Beleril's heart sank and he gazed down at his feet as though transfixed by them. It was strange indeed, but for such a short time, the young elf had taken an extraordinary liking to the child. He mentally berated himself for even thinking that it would have even been a possibility for Naelie to be housed with him.
"However -" said Celeborn again.
At this, Beleril's head snapped up and his heart rose in false hope again.
"She will need somewhere to stay for tonight" continued Celeborn. "And since you are the only one she knows at the moment, I think it would be best if she stayed in your talan for the night."
Beleril's heart did a back flip and a somersault at his lord's words. He didn't care how odd it was that he suddenly cared so much for this human child whom he had only met less than an hour ago. He did not care, at least for now that he would only be able to look after her for a night and a day. If he had been able, Beleril would have danced around his lord's talan on account of the joy that was flooding through him.
But he didn't.
On the contrary he remained completely composed and nodded solemnly. "If that is your wish, my lord" Beleril replied. "Then I have no qualms".
Celeborn smiled at the young elf. "I will try and find a more suitable housing arrangement for the child by tomorrow" continued the elven lord. "Until then, she will be in you care. Now, may I suggest you return to your talan. Elbereth knows you look worn indeed."
Beleril could not help but smile at this remark. He rose from his seat, made his way over to the bed, and picked up Naelie in his arms again. She stirred slightly, but thankfully did not wake.
"Good night then, my lord" said Beleril, bowing as best he could.
"Good night Beleril" replied Celeborn with nod and a smile.
Closing the door quietly behind him, Beleril made his way back through Lorien to his own talan. Mercifully, it was not far so he was spared having to ask questions as to why he was carrying a human child around the woods in the dead of night. As he went, Beleril felt the warm glow of happiness enveloping him and as he walked, he would not have been surprised if his feet had had wings.
Soon, Beleril reached his talan, and with little ease, he bent down and opened the door. He could only open the door slightly as his hand had to return to steady Naelie and prevent her from falling. Lifting his foot, he kicked the door gently and it swung open further, enough for him to slip in without having to put the child on the floor. He made his way into his room on the opposite side of the talan, whilst trying his best not to knock into anything in the dark and wake her.
Eventually, he reached his bed and gently, he pulled back the soft sheets and laid the sleeping Naelie onto the mattress. Tucking the material around her, he laid her head back against the downy pillows and watched as she slept on.
A minute or so later, Beleril left Naelie and carefully made his way back into the main room. Taking a match, he lit the half melted candle on his table and although the flickering quality of the newly-lit candle was not immense in power, it gave Beleril enough to see by.
On the whole, his talan was fairly neat and tidy. There were a few garments hung over the arms of chairs and various weapons for border duty standing against the walls, but apart from that, his talan was respectable. It looked, as he generally called it, "lived in".
His eyes fell upon the remnants of his mid-day meal on the table which he had neglected to clear away. Yawning, he gathered up the goblet and plate and deposited them in the sink. Because of his changing shift work at the borders, Beleril's talan was one that had its own kitchen in order for him to make his own meals should he ever need to. He washed up quickly and put the crockery back in its cupboards.
By now, his eyes were itching with tiredness and there was still the problem of where he would sleep. Deciding that the couch may be the best option, he gathered up the rug that lay over the top and laid it as a blanket and arranged two of the larger cushions as substitute pillows. He then crossed over to the laundry rail and selected a white night garment. He stripped out of his tunic and pants quickly and pulled the pale material over his head.
He laid himself down on the couch, which he found was surprisingly comfortable as a make-shift bed, and pulled the rug over him with a content and happy sigh. So tired was he, that he fell into slumber as soon as his head hit the cushions.
