Estel Hiruvalyë
(thou shalt find hope)
Disclaimer: Sue me.
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4 Chapter III: Quetlá Lumbule
5 [speak not of shadow]
Legolas entered the main room of the cottage again, feeling much refreshed and renewed, and sat down on one of the stools that surrounded the mid- size wooden table. Aragorn sat there already, smoking his pipe and looking almost contented if not for the shady look in his eyes that usually meant he was deep in thought. Legolas picked up an apple and a piece of bread from the plate of food that was left on the table for the fellowship. Aragorn and himself were given the ground level room, for they would be taking the watches for the night, along with Haíthwen. The rest of the fellowship would be sleeping in the underground, and they had already retired for the night.
Haíthwen had given each member a bed to rest in, as well as a warm bath, to which each member was eternally grateful. She had politely excused herself from the cottage while they each took a turn to bathe, and had returned much later in the passing day. None save Legolas noticed the slight stumble she held while walking, or the small patch of red on her sleeve; details that were almost unperceivable to all save the keen eyes of an elf. Legolas had made a small note to inquire as to what had happened, but had put it off, perhaps until later when he held watch alone with her. The thought of being alone with her almost unnerved him, almost, as he still did not trust her completely. Of course, he would still act civil, yet there was still that hidden sense of doubt that surrounded her, like she wasn't all, or maybe more, than what she showed to be.
Legolas heard very light footsteps climb the stone stair, and turned slightly to see Haíthwen enter the room, carrying a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Legolas noticed the slight stumble was still present, and saw that she was trying to hide it. She sat down heavily on one stool and leaned her head against the table in exhaustion.
"The hobbits a little much to handle?" Aragorn asked with another grin as he continued puffing away. She looked up and stared at him with a look that could have said 'No, you think?' She groaned and laid her head back on the table for a minute before picking herself back up and went to gather a couple jars and herbs.
"Not as much as I thought, actually. They remind me of children, though. So much like fir-Alassë… meh. Wonderful people. Wish I had visited them more. Always happy, and good lord can they eat a lot!" She stopped, catching herself rambling and biting her tongue.
Aragorn watched her with interest, barely blinking as he seemed to try to catch every detail of her movement, every action and every item having some significance. Legolas watched this exchange with interest, wondering what she was doing and what Aragorn found so interesting.
Legolas watched her again as she prepared a tea over the small fireplace, boiling water and adding various herbs and other liquids to the kettle. Here and again Legolas could see an air of dignity and elegance in her actions, an aura that seemed to far surpass that of any living being. Before he could catch a mere glance of her graceful actions, they were gone and replaced by the faltering step and trembling arms of the common girl he met earlier that day. Aragorn gazed at her, but whether he saw this change in her as well was hidden in his unchanging facial expressions.
"Will I have to wait till my deathbed before I learn of your liquors?" Aragorn asked, sighing as he seemed to forego the observations and relit his pipe. Haíthwen turned with the prepared tea and ran to fetch some cups to hold it.
"No." she said simply as she poured three cups of the amber liquid, and a warm, spiced aroma wafted around the small room. Its sweet, intoxicating smell was almost overwhelming, and Legolas felt sleepy as the fragrance reached him. "But, granted, you'll have to wait. I would prefer to keep some secrets to myself a little longer before throwing them to the wind."
She offered him a cup of the cider with a small bow, which Aragorn took with a nod. She offered a cup as well to Legolas, and he smiled despite himself at the small, yet… 'what was the word? Gracious'… act of courtesy. Legolas thought to himself a moment. She seemed… regal, of sorts.
"My Lady, you have no fear in keeping secrets! Mithrandir himself barely has more that you do, and even he tells more of them that you do." Aragorn laughed warmly as he took a mouthful of the beverage.
Legolas took a sip also, and immediately felt the warmth of the sweet beverage renew him. He relaxed, and yet at the same time, many details came into sharper focus, his senses heightened despite his weary state.
"What is this? It tastes wonderful," He asked, as he took another sip.
"I would welcome death even now for the ingredients, had I not previously entrusted my life to our quest." Aragorn sighed as he set the cup on the table and leaned on the table, resting his head in his hand.
"So would many people, Elessar, yet wouldn't that defeat the intent of the drink?" She said, a slight smile showing again on her face. She turned to Legolas. "It was long ago that it had a name, yet even longer that I should remember it." She said, a small frown on her face.
"I think it was called… Kuivëamíru…but perhaps my memory escapes me. I learned it ages ago, from the last of my people. I usually call it Narýuvor. It has a few healing qualities: it speeds healing, prevents infection and poisoning, and relaxes. I've been told it improves the senses, but I am still unsure if it really occurs."
"Such modesty from the Lady!" Aragorn cried mockingly. "You give yourself no credit where praise is due!"
"Tis not modesty, Aragorn, but fear of becoming someone who deserves praise and honour." She whispered sadly, staring at her hands which now lay folded in her lap.
Legolas was about to dispute, though wary he still was of her, but held himself silent as her head snapped behind him, a look of angst and unease flaring in her eyes as she watched someone approach from the stair.
"Welcome, Frodo. Unable to find rest?" Legolas asked as Frodo climbed up the stool and rested his head in his hands. He nodded and sighed.
"Evil dreams plagued the sleep I did have, and I fear going to sleep again for what other nightmares may come." He said, fatigue in his voice. Legolas could see the dark circles under his eyes, and the look of hopelessness in them. He turned back to Lórëala, who looked rather pale and withdrawn. She continued to stare at her hands, as if afraid to chance her eyes meeting Frodo's. She didn't look at him as she rose, but she poured another cup of the still-steaming Narýuvor and walked slowly over to him, handing it to him cautiously.
"This should put your mind at rest, Sir. I doubt dreams will haunt your rest if you have some." She said quietly, still avoiding his gaze. Frodo, in his sullen state, did not notice her uneasiness, but Legolas did, as well as Aragorn, whose brow creased as he looked at her. She flinched slightly as Frodo accepted the cup, and she returned to her seat, after offering more to both Legolas and Aragorn, who politely declined.
"It is good, thank you. It does ease my mind." He said, his eyes a little brighter and his face a little less fatigued. "Aragorn, where are we headed now?" Frodo asked.
"We should head towards Lórien, as it seems the path that Gandalf would have most likely taken himself. We can rest there without fear before continuing on. You are our guide, are you not?" he asked, turning to the quiet girl who now sat at the end of the table.
"I was originally sent here to wait for Gandalf, because I could not join the council in Rivendell, and I couldn't have joined you till you passed the Redhorn Gate. It was just as well that I wasn't there, as I could have not made it through the mines of Moria." She said quietly.
"You say you could not have gone through Moria? Why, even Legolas, an elf who dreads being underground, made it through. It was horrible, but I'd be willing to bet that even you could have made it through, to say the least." Frodo said, frowning as he recalled the grim passage through Moria, but pressed on.
"It is not as simple as passing through a dark tunnel. I have been through Moria of previous, and I could not begin to think of daring the journey again." Frodo went to say something, but was stopped by Aragorn who shot him a reproachful glance.
"Continuing on," she spoke finally, breaking the uncomfortable silence that had grown between the table, "since Gandalf cannot be here, I shall bring you to the borders of Lórien, where you will meet a party of the Guard. They will direct you to see the Lady, and perhaps I shall meet you on the other side of the Golden Wood. I dread the day I shall re-enter the Woods of Altáriel."
"How could you dread the day? The Golden Wood is a magnificent forest, surely you jest?" Legolas asked, incredulous. Here was a girl who had not only seen the wonderful Wood, but fears the day she should return? Doubt and distrust once again filled his mind, for surely one who fears the Wood must have angered Galadriel, Lady of the Wood. And to anger one as her, they must have done some terrible deed, indeed.
"I shall not enter." She said resolutely, but fearful her tone was, her voice wavering as she stood from the table and walked to the cupboard, pulling some candles from a drawer and lighting them.
Frodo stood up and walked back towards the staircase, but paused a moment and turned back to where Haíthwen held a candle and was lighting another.
"Thank you for your hospitality and generosity. I'm sure we would be very grateful no matter how far you lead us." He said, smiling gently as a child would. She turned, looking at him a moment before smiling herself.
"Your welcome." She said, handing him a candle. "Let us go. I'll sit with you and make sure you dream easy till the morrow." She said, as she let him lead down the steps, leaving the two men to themselves.
"Take care what is said around her." Aragorn said quietly as he leaned over to Legolas.
"What is that supposed to mean?" he asked.
"It is difficult for her to speak of her past. Gandalf has told me bits of her history, and in no way has she had it easy."
"And we have?" Legolas hissed out, becoming angered, but he pushed the emotion away and calmed himself. Aragorn only shook his head.
"She has a mighty burden to defend, a burden that grew much heavier when the One Ring failed to be destroyed.
"She has become much more solemn since I met her at last, and this chance does not bode well for the world. In a world where hope is a precious commodity, should she lose hers, we will have lost a fair and vast treasure indeed. In fear of the future, one tends to forget one's past. We should aid her, for in helping her, we are gaining a great ally. If she fulfills her destiny, we may have a chance at fulfilling ours."
"Is she some kind of witch? I still do not understand why she fears entering LothLórien, never mind this new information you tell of." Legolas said as he leaned on the table.
"Haíthwen fears not the Golden Wood, but the people in it. Just like she failed to come to the council; she avoided it because she fears the people there. They betrayed her kind during the time of the Great Alliance, and they were forsaken. Sauron and his Ring sought them out, hoping to use them in his search for power. When He found they could not be turned, he had them eradicated. Now hardly any remain, perhaps one or two. It is sad, for the one person she seeks forgiveness from is the person she most fears seeing." He paused, and rubbed his forehead. "That is all I dare say, for it is her story and should not be told by myself, for I understand very little of it. But I will tell you this. She is naught witch, hobbit, dwarf, elf or human."
Legolas was about to comment again, when he heard her footsteps again on the stone. He turned, and stared long and hard at her. He knew, somewhere in the far recesses of his mind, of a fairy-tale heard long ago while he was a child that sounded very similar to Aragorn's story. He looked at her, at her small stature that looked like an elf, yet was almost tiny compared to the average height of most elves. The way she sometimes held grace, like she was floating, and the bright light in her eyes that shimmered with glitter… but it was only a fairy-tale…
He gasped as he finally realized what he saw in front of him.
"You're… you're a –" Legolas cried…
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
ha ha ha he he he… oh boy. Nobody seems to like to review! [surprise, surprise!] well, as an added incentive, I've completed up to chapter SEVEN! So if you review, I'll post more chapters sooner!
BUT WAIT! THERE'S MORE! If you send me a review along with the name of a story you want reviewed, then I'll review it! Promise!
(thou shalt find hope)
Disclaimer: Sue me.
1
2
3
4 Chapter III: Quetlá Lumbule
5 [speak not of shadow]
Legolas entered the main room of the cottage again, feeling much refreshed and renewed, and sat down on one of the stools that surrounded the mid- size wooden table. Aragorn sat there already, smoking his pipe and looking almost contented if not for the shady look in his eyes that usually meant he was deep in thought. Legolas picked up an apple and a piece of bread from the plate of food that was left on the table for the fellowship. Aragorn and himself were given the ground level room, for they would be taking the watches for the night, along with Haíthwen. The rest of the fellowship would be sleeping in the underground, and they had already retired for the night.
Haíthwen had given each member a bed to rest in, as well as a warm bath, to which each member was eternally grateful. She had politely excused herself from the cottage while they each took a turn to bathe, and had returned much later in the passing day. None save Legolas noticed the slight stumble she held while walking, or the small patch of red on her sleeve; details that were almost unperceivable to all save the keen eyes of an elf. Legolas had made a small note to inquire as to what had happened, but had put it off, perhaps until later when he held watch alone with her. The thought of being alone with her almost unnerved him, almost, as he still did not trust her completely. Of course, he would still act civil, yet there was still that hidden sense of doubt that surrounded her, like she wasn't all, or maybe more, than what she showed to be.
Legolas heard very light footsteps climb the stone stair, and turned slightly to see Haíthwen enter the room, carrying a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Legolas noticed the slight stumble was still present, and saw that she was trying to hide it. She sat down heavily on one stool and leaned her head against the table in exhaustion.
"The hobbits a little much to handle?" Aragorn asked with another grin as he continued puffing away. She looked up and stared at him with a look that could have said 'No, you think?' She groaned and laid her head back on the table for a minute before picking herself back up and went to gather a couple jars and herbs.
"Not as much as I thought, actually. They remind me of children, though. So much like fir-Alassë… meh. Wonderful people. Wish I had visited them more. Always happy, and good lord can they eat a lot!" She stopped, catching herself rambling and biting her tongue.
Aragorn watched her with interest, barely blinking as he seemed to try to catch every detail of her movement, every action and every item having some significance. Legolas watched this exchange with interest, wondering what she was doing and what Aragorn found so interesting.
Legolas watched her again as she prepared a tea over the small fireplace, boiling water and adding various herbs and other liquids to the kettle. Here and again Legolas could see an air of dignity and elegance in her actions, an aura that seemed to far surpass that of any living being. Before he could catch a mere glance of her graceful actions, they were gone and replaced by the faltering step and trembling arms of the common girl he met earlier that day. Aragorn gazed at her, but whether he saw this change in her as well was hidden in his unchanging facial expressions.
"Will I have to wait till my deathbed before I learn of your liquors?" Aragorn asked, sighing as he seemed to forego the observations and relit his pipe. Haíthwen turned with the prepared tea and ran to fetch some cups to hold it.
"No." she said simply as she poured three cups of the amber liquid, and a warm, spiced aroma wafted around the small room. Its sweet, intoxicating smell was almost overwhelming, and Legolas felt sleepy as the fragrance reached him. "But, granted, you'll have to wait. I would prefer to keep some secrets to myself a little longer before throwing them to the wind."
She offered him a cup of the cider with a small bow, which Aragorn took with a nod. She offered a cup as well to Legolas, and he smiled despite himself at the small, yet… 'what was the word? Gracious'… act of courtesy. Legolas thought to himself a moment. She seemed… regal, of sorts.
"My Lady, you have no fear in keeping secrets! Mithrandir himself barely has more that you do, and even he tells more of them that you do." Aragorn laughed warmly as he took a mouthful of the beverage.
Legolas took a sip also, and immediately felt the warmth of the sweet beverage renew him. He relaxed, and yet at the same time, many details came into sharper focus, his senses heightened despite his weary state.
"What is this? It tastes wonderful," He asked, as he took another sip.
"I would welcome death even now for the ingredients, had I not previously entrusted my life to our quest." Aragorn sighed as he set the cup on the table and leaned on the table, resting his head in his hand.
"So would many people, Elessar, yet wouldn't that defeat the intent of the drink?" She said, a slight smile showing again on her face. She turned to Legolas. "It was long ago that it had a name, yet even longer that I should remember it." She said, a small frown on her face.
"I think it was called… Kuivëamíru…but perhaps my memory escapes me. I learned it ages ago, from the last of my people. I usually call it Narýuvor. It has a few healing qualities: it speeds healing, prevents infection and poisoning, and relaxes. I've been told it improves the senses, but I am still unsure if it really occurs."
"Such modesty from the Lady!" Aragorn cried mockingly. "You give yourself no credit where praise is due!"
"Tis not modesty, Aragorn, but fear of becoming someone who deserves praise and honour." She whispered sadly, staring at her hands which now lay folded in her lap.
Legolas was about to dispute, though wary he still was of her, but held himself silent as her head snapped behind him, a look of angst and unease flaring in her eyes as she watched someone approach from the stair.
"Welcome, Frodo. Unable to find rest?" Legolas asked as Frodo climbed up the stool and rested his head in his hands. He nodded and sighed.
"Evil dreams plagued the sleep I did have, and I fear going to sleep again for what other nightmares may come." He said, fatigue in his voice. Legolas could see the dark circles under his eyes, and the look of hopelessness in them. He turned back to Lórëala, who looked rather pale and withdrawn. She continued to stare at her hands, as if afraid to chance her eyes meeting Frodo's. She didn't look at him as she rose, but she poured another cup of the still-steaming Narýuvor and walked slowly over to him, handing it to him cautiously.
"This should put your mind at rest, Sir. I doubt dreams will haunt your rest if you have some." She said quietly, still avoiding his gaze. Frodo, in his sullen state, did not notice her uneasiness, but Legolas did, as well as Aragorn, whose brow creased as he looked at her. She flinched slightly as Frodo accepted the cup, and she returned to her seat, after offering more to both Legolas and Aragorn, who politely declined.
"It is good, thank you. It does ease my mind." He said, his eyes a little brighter and his face a little less fatigued. "Aragorn, where are we headed now?" Frodo asked.
"We should head towards Lórien, as it seems the path that Gandalf would have most likely taken himself. We can rest there without fear before continuing on. You are our guide, are you not?" he asked, turning to the quiet girl who now sat at the end of the table.
"I was originally sent here to wait for Gandalf, because I could not join the council in Rivendell, and I couldn't have joined you till you passed the Redhorn Gate. It was just as well that I wasn't there, as I could have not made it through the mines of Moria." She said quietly.
"You say you could not have gone through Moria? Why, even Legolas, an elf who dreads being underground, made it through. It was horrible, but I'd be willing to bet that even you could have made it through, to say the least." Frodo said, frowning as he recalled the grim passage through Moria, but pressed on.
"It is not as simple as passing through a dark tunnel. I have been through Moria of previous, and I could not begin to think of daring the journey again." Frodo went to say something, but was stopped by Aragorn who shot him a reproachful glance.
"Continuing on," she spoke finally, breaking the uncomfortable silence that had grown between the table, "since Gandalf cannot be here, I shall bring you to the borders of Lórien, where you will meet a party of the Guard. They will direct you to see the Lady, and perhaps I shall meet you on the other side of the Golden Wood. I dread the day I shall re-enter the Woods of Altáriel."
"How could you dread the day? The Golden Wood is a magnificent forest, surely you jest?" Legolas asked, incredulous. Here was a girl who had not only seen the wonderful Wood, but fears the day she should return? Doubt and distrust once again filled his mind, for surely one who fears the Wood must have angered Galadriel, Lady of the Wood. And to anger one as her, they must have done some terrible deed, indeed.
"I shall not enter." She said resolutely, but fearful her tone was, her voice wavering as she stood from the table and walked to the cupboard, pulling some candles from a drawer and lighting them.
Frodo stood up and walked back towards the staircase, but paused a moment and turned back to where Haíthwen held a candle and was lighting another.
"Thank you for your hospitality and generosity. I'm sure we would be very grateful no matter how far you lead us." He said, smiling gently as a child would. She turned, looking at him a moment before smiling herself.
"Your welcome." She said, handing him a candle. "Let us go. I'll sit with you and make sure you dream easy till the morrow." She said, as she let him lead down the steps, leaving the two men to themselves.
"Take care what is said around her." Aragorn said quietly as he leaned over to Legolas.
"What is that supposed to mean?" he asked.
"It is difficult for her to speak of her past. Gandalf has told me bits of her history, and in no way has she had it easy."
"And we have?" Legolas hissed out, becoming angered, but he pushed the emotion away and calmed himself. Aragorn only shook his head.
"She has a mighty burden to defend, a burden that grew much heavier when the One Ring failed to be destroyed.
"She has become much more solemn since I met her at last, and this chance does not bode well for the world. In a world where hope is a precious commodity, should she lose hers, we will have lost a fair and vast treasure indeed. In fear of the future, one tends to forget one's past. We should aid her, for in helping her, we are gaining a great ally. If she fulfills her destiny, we may have a chance at fulfilling ours."
"Is she some kind of witch? I still do not understand why she fears entering LothLórien, never mind this new information you tell of." Legolas said as he leaned on the table.
"Haíthwen fears not the Golden Wood, but the people in it. Just like she failed to come to the council; she avoided it because she fears the people there. They betrayed her kind during the time of the Great Alliance, and they were forsaken. Sauron and his Ring sought them out, hoping to use them in his search for power. When He found they could not be turned, he had them eradicated. Now hardly any remain, perhaps one or two. It is sad, for the one person she seeks forgiveness from is the person she most fears seeing." He paused, and rubbed his forehead. "That is all I dare say, for it is her story and should not be told by myself, for I understand very little of it. But I will tell you this. She is naught witch, hobbit, dwarf, elf or human."
Legolas was about to comment again, when he heard her footsteps again on the stone. He turned, and stared long and hard at her. He knew, somewhere in the far recesses of his mind, of a fairy-tale heard long ago while he was a child that sounded very similar to Aragorn's story. He looked at her, at her small stature that looked like an elf, yet was almost tiny compared to the average height of most elves. The way she sometimes held grace, like she was floating, and the bright light in her eyes that shimmered with glitter… but it was only a fairy-tale…
He gasped as he finally realized what he saw in front of him.
"You're… you're a –" Legolas cried…
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
ha ha ha he he he… oh boy. Nobody seems to like to review! [surprise, surprise!] well, as an added incentive, I've completed up to chapter SEVEN! So if you review, I'll post more chapters sooner!
BUT WAIT! THERE'S MORE! If you send me a review along with the name of a story you want reviewed, then I'll review it! Promise!