Annamariah: I am so glad you like my story! I can always count on your interest, thank you so much! Keep reading you will find out just what Fingolfin's reaction is…dum de dum dum dum!
Copper Arrow: Yes, I love your name! It's just perfect; in fact it could be a plot bunny! Mummmm I'll have to think about that. Religious ideas and inflections are never wrong if put in a none offensive and thoughtful way. I believe it would be wrong to try and use the old "bate and switch" technique in a story. I'm not luring people in and trying to convert them; I simple thought this is what might have happened and decided that it could be possible. If you would like a more in depth explanation as to how I came up the idea and why I think it works; just e-mail me personally and I'll be glad to tell you.
Guadalupe: Ahhhh. My reviewers have the best names! I am so glad you enjoyed the last chapter, stick around because there will be more!
Tihisaboy: Is your name supposed to be "thisisaboy?" just curious. I'm glad your like my story so well, as to your question about my being Tolkien……even the wisest cannot tell and neither can I. Manwe said I wasn't supposed to……never mind, me and my big mouth. And the cornflakes come from just about any rapid health-food-nut-store. Like a Mother Earth or something like that, at least that's where I get them.
Annie789: I know what it's like to have a stressful week as I am in the middle of my second semester in college. In fact I should be in English class now but I think I'll just skip it to write this chapter for all of you. I'm sorry that I didn't make it clear early on that Laura was dead, but you can always catch the snags. Thank you for bring it to my attention so I could clear it up.
About my parents and their intense dislike of LOTR, they are not what I would call deeply religious because religion is the outward show of Faith. I would rather use the terms strong Christians, they believe deeply and have raised me to love the Lord and fellow his path. However we do have areas in which our opinion differs, such as LOTR. I do not believe that you cannot be a Christian and read and enjoy the LOTR books, Tolkien "rest his soul" was Catholic. That is why I used the Bible, and my faith in the story as I have. I hope that you do not think that I am over reacting I simply wish everything to be straight.
I have just read the first "Book of Lost Tales" and it backed up my thought of Middle Earth being pre-Christ, although it is a bit difficult wading through the stories and all the commentaries. I loved adding the little reminder of the burning of the ships and showing that Galadriel though strong, is not a perfect impassive ice queen that many think her. I really found writing Finrod and her relationship quite nice because I based it upon the relationship of a friend and her brother. I was always impressed with a strong and sweet brother-sister relationship, and had to add the two if them in more than passing.
Chapter 15
The office was dark, pitch black the way Sauron liked it. He drummed his manicured fingers on the desk, and the soft thump, thump thump was the only sound in the room. It filled the darkness in a lonely solitary way and Sauron mused the strange way that humans hear. Getting used a human body was…..insupportable in the extreme, but he was bound to obey Melkor whatever he said.
Aeroniel, the unimportant human woman. Why was she so, so difficult to break? She was human after all and they have such a low pain threshold. Unusually they died after spilling out information, but he was unable to get anything out of her at all. And he was not allowed to use force.
He brought his hand down the metal desk in anger, the surface fractured in a web of splintering cracks. The desk groaned about to fall, but he leant over and laid both hands flat on the desk and a strange eerie light emitted from his palms. It spread across the desk and along each crack and seam; healing and mending as it went. He sat back and looked at his hands and the desk in satisfaction, at least a human body didn't limit his powers. Aule and all the Valar could not take from him what was his gift from Eru and he was glad of it. He lived in daily fear that the Valar would come for him, but till then he had work to do.
He got up and flipped on the light wincing as the fluorescent lights blinked on. He hated this endless stream of illumination in every room and building. Unlike the sun, you could never get away from it. He used to love the light, and he remembered dancing with Melian under the two trees, she was always so sweet to him.
He shoved the thought away roughly and left the office. He must not dwell on what was passed, and over, forgotten. He served a mightier master now, and he would not think of those who would not follow as well. Melian was wed to one of the cursed Elder now just as the woman in the tiny cell, he could never hope to break Melian, but Aeroniel was something else. She was only human, and he was not about to let her remain untouched, they had to find her children!
He turned the corner and allowed his face to smile and greet the other in the ward. A plan was forming in his mind and he knew this would work if nothing else did. The dumpy nurse Serena was coming up to him and saying, "Dr. Anderson, Dr. Hadhafang is here to see you. He is waiting in his office if you would like to speak with him."
"Thank you m'dear, your are invaluable." He winked and rounded the next corner. Maybe he wouldn't have to work after all; perhaps the human was stupid enough to help him. Humans, Eru's one mistake.
-
The glade was silent in the early morning hours just before dawn. Everyone slept in peace and contentment while the sun began her journey high into the violet sky. Pale golden tendrils of light played in the slight fog that rose off the pools of Irvin and curled in and around every plant and figure. A reluctant nightingale is singing his last song before the day fully breaks and ends his time of song. The horses' nibbled on the dew soaked grass and lazily move across the field in no hurry to do or be anywhere.
This is the pausing time of life, the close mate to twilight. The time when all the earth and her children hold their breath in reverent silence to the glory of the raising sun. But look! A lone figure is walking the beach, he is bowed under some heavy weight, some matter that burdens his heart greatly. He bears his burden alone is seems and is shunning the time of day when his fellows would see and inquire of his sadness.
It is true when it was said that there is none more lonely than a King, he has none to whom he may confide his trouble to confess his lack of strength. And so he walks alone over the polished pebbles and cinders of the night before. His heart to weary to rejoice in the dawning morn, and yet stay and see another is joining him. Another so much like himself in manner and features it is clear they are related. Come; let us creep closer to hear what they will say.
"Father, did you not sleep?" Fingon asked as he approached his parent. Fingolfin shook his head his golden hair falling around his face and hiding his pained expression at the presence of his son. Of the entire Elder he did not wish to see his son and he did not wish to see Aeroniel. Fingon laid a hand on his arm and said "Ada there is something I wish to speak to you of..."
"Do not speak of it to me, Findekáno." Fingolfin breathed and walked away. Fingon straightened and said, "Than you know."
"How could I not? You are my son." Was the curt reply, the king looked over to the camp where faint signs of life were beginning to show.
"You disapprove of my choice?"
"She is mortal Fingon, how could I not?" said Fingolfin faced his son. Fingon's face was set in a hard and unreadable mask. Fingolfin knew that look; he had seen it just before Fingon had left to go after his captive cousin. Fingolfin also knew that he must tread softly or alienate his son forever. He spoke this time his voice gentle and questioning,
"Have you considered what this means to you, and your people my son? Have you weighted the consequences of this love?"
"I know that I would pay the price gladly. I have not foolishly allowed myself to care for her father; I am not the son of the wisest son of Finwe for nothing."
"I did not welcome the child into my home to..."
"She is a woman Atar not a child."
"I wish to Eru she were, and I could have sent her away! Never would I have permitted her presence if I had foreseen this Fingon. She is too young to fully understand what it means for you to love her and bind with her. She will fade and die and you will follow and leave our people. I will not, cannot bear another loss!"
Fingolfin spoke bitterly as he faced his son, his proud independent son.
"Atar, I love you and have ever obeyed you in everything, have I not?"
"Yes."
"I must not follow your counsel here. I understand what it is to marry her and bind my fate with hers. However you are right, I cannot allow myself to selfishly love her without her understanding what doom she brings on herself by binding with me!" Fingon said his voice falling heavily as he spoke the last words.
Fingolfin looked up sharply at this and said, "What doom can you bring to her? And what doom can shadow your life that she doesn't not bring you?"
"The doom of the Silmarils Atar, she would share in the curse of Manwe that was placed upon our disobedience."
Every word was like ice on Fingolfin's heart. He knew the painful truth in it. And to acknowledge it again was to band his people with the curse anew. He did not blame his son for the words; he spoke only the truth that they all tried daily to forget. Wise as his father Fingon had weighed the cost and was paying the toll heavily. As must he.
"You are right Fingon, and wiser then your father. Go to her, tell her of your fate and what will be hers should she join with you. Love her if you can and guard her with your strength, I cannot keep you any longer." said Fingolfin, his eyes searching his son's. "Go my son."
Fingon laid his hand over his fathers saying, "Thank you, Atar." Then drawing himself up to his full height he laid his hand over his heart and knelt saying, "Ánin anta estelya, Atar." He rose and was gone.
"Trust me Father." His son's words echoed across the waves and as his son disappeared in the maze of tents he knew he had to do just that.
-
Aeroniel was sleeping the dreamless sleep of contentment, her right hand lay on her heart a gleaming silver band adorning the first finger. A ring of betrothal, and a promise of love it graced her slender hand beautifully.
Nessima came into the tent to waken the slumbering girl and stopped short in shock as the sunlight glanced off the ring casting a shower of white light over the room. A gasp of astonishment came unbidden to her throat and she knelt beside the girl. So this was the cause of all those wistful looks and far away day dreams of her friend, something so simple as love.
And yet Nessima knew that this love was anything, but simple. "Oh my dear little friend you have much trouble ahead of you, but I swear to remain by your side if I may." And the eflleth bent her golden head and kissed the hand of her friend in silent pledge.
Rising she made as much noise as she could to wake the young woman. Aeroniel sat up suddenly as she woke and her first words were, "What a beautiful day!" her eyes shone and the light changed her hair from brown to golden red in a turn of her head.
Nessima laughed and sat beside her " I should say from the lovely ring on your finger you have something to rejoice over. I always wondered who would finally win the heart of our Prince. I am glad he has found you, Aeroniel."
"When did it happen?" the eflleth asked.
"I want to tell you Nessima, yet I cannot find the words. My heart is too full to tell it. I feel as if I could only express it by dancing, singing and shouting it out into the whole world! I can tell you that I never thought he would love me Nessima." Aeroniel stroked the slender band thoughtfully. " I wonder what King Fingolfin will think."
"I wonder what will happen when Lord Fingon tells Lord Maedhros?" said Nessima aloud. The two looked at each other, there were more things to worry about than they had foreseen.
-
Good friends don't need telling. Maedhros and Fingon had been enjoying a relatively quiet stroll through the camp, savoring the beautiful morning. A soft, idyllic hush lay like a warm mist among the tents, and people moved slowly, relaxing in the unusual peace.
And yet-and yet-Maedhros wondered what it was that made Fingon so very quiet, his already serious face thoughtful, and his answers to causal queries absentminded. But he did not ask, he simply watched. They paused a moment by the wide crystal pool, the small, undulating waves creeping up a little on the sandy banks, than retreating in the same, half timid manner, as if not wishing to offend.
"Isn't it beautiful?" Fingon's simple statement broke the companionable silence they had fallen into, and Maedhros smiled slightly, and nodded in agreement.
"My brothers are going to be sorry they didn't come. I told them that, but of course, they could never listen to any good advice. Stubborn old things." The general tone of affection in this tone belied his harsh words, and Fingon laughed a little.
"I suppose we can only be glad those rough-housers stayed away, or we'd never have a moments peace."
"Why, Fingon," Maedhros said, in shocked tones " How could you say that of them? My dear, genteel brothers would never "roughhouse"!"
At this, Fingon just looked at him, arms folded, and Maedhros grinned.
"Well, maybe they might get a little rowdy at times." he admitted " But never rough-housed!"
"Allow me one word," Fingon said, in exaggerated politeness.
"That's four already." Maedhros muttered.
"Twins."
"Ah," Maedhros said " Those were special circumstances you know." At another pointed look from Fingon, he added " You try and have twin younger brothers who are redheads!"
"I practically did." Fingon retorted.
"It's much different, I assure you." Maedhros said " At least you never had to contend with their midnight serenading as elflings."
"I had to contend with just about everything else; double scraped knees, pranks, I-need-a-drink-right-now when we played games and they were it." Fingon sighed with the air of a longsuffering martyr.
"It's still not the same." Maedhros replied airily, and sat down on the beach, as if exhausted with his memories. Fingon followed suit, leaning against the broad trunk of a tree. Once more they fell into that warm silence which marks the closest friends, who need not always be talking.
After a few moments, Maedhros idly picked up one of the smooth grey pebbles that were scattered along the sandy stretch, and turned it over and over in his hand a few times. He glanced over at Fingon, who gave the distinct appearance of falling asleep, a small smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. He can't fall asleep now, Maedhros thought, I have to find out what is making that smile so different.
He glanced again at the stone in his hand, and an idea twinkled in his eyes. The next second, with one, smooth flick of his wrist, he sent the flat pebble skimming over the surface of the pond, quite alarming the solitary duck who inhabited it. The poor fowl narrowly missed the flying stone, and flapped, squawking in protest, away.
Fingon woke up, and looked around with a startled expression, and then glared at his cousin in mock wrath.
"Still following your childish pursuits I see." he said " And still just as bad at skipping rocks as ever."
"That was nine, and I defy you to beat that!" Maedhros said, laughing.
"I will then, and make a complete fool out of you." Fingon said, picking up a nearby stone, and pulling his arm back a little.
But neither of them ever got to see if he would have beaten nine skips, because the in the next instant, Maedhros had seized his cousins right wrist. He stared at the gleaming ring there for a few moments, a mixture of delight and disbelief playing over his features.
"I-I'm at a total loss for words!" he sputtered, still gripping Fingon's wrist.
"Would you mind not crushing my hand?" Fingon asked, and hastily Maedhros dropped it, noticing the white fingerprints left behind.
"Sorry about that Fingon, I'm just absolutely-" Maedhros began, and then " Who is she?"
"Hmm," Fingon said, and looked away.
"You're going to make me guess I see." Maedhros said, cheerfulness unabated " Now, who could possibly make my stone cold cousin go properly down on his knees."
"Hmph." Fingon said at this, Maedhros ignored him, and then snapped his fingers.
"I know! It's that pretty golden haired thing you were dancing with the other night, Alassë something or other, you looked very well together. Not her? Then it has to be that aqua eyed eflleth, your hair is about the same color."
"No, it is not Nessima, and Alassë is engaged to Daugon." Fingon said, rolling his eyes heavenward.
"Let me see." Maedhros rubbed his forehead thoughtfully. Then he paled, and grabbed his friends wrist again.
"It's not-Lady Bethriel is it?" he whispered.
"No, of course not." Fingon said vehemently " She's very beautiful of course, and her eyes are quite magnificent, but she's cold, Maedhros, like a tall, slender column of icy rock." Maedhros looked a bit taken aback at this outburst, and then shrugged.
"That narrows it down for me then." he said good-humouredly "All I have to do is think of her exact opposite." Then the light faded from Maedhros's eyes, and he looked quickly at his friend.
"Is it-that little Edain girl? Aeroniel?" his tone was partly shocked, and half way pleading, as if this was some elaborate joke on his cousins part.
"She's not a child, Maedhros, she's a woman." The quiet answer of his friend was all Maedhros needed for confirmation.
"Oh." he said awkwardly, and they both sat there for a moment. Then Maedhros recovered himself, and gave Fingon a congratulatory hug, saying as he did so " You never were one to follow convention, I might have known you'd do something like this someday."
Yet Fingon noticed that his embrace was lacking the bone crushing pressure of earlier, and the words "something like this" to his ears at least, had a faint, underlying tone of disappointment.
"Oh, Maedhros not you too." he thought.
-
But almost no one who heard of the match was pleased, in fact the engagement seemed to be the chief cause of everything that went wrong during that day. At least it was from the view of the Lady Bethriel. She had never been so upset in her life time, which was considerable. She was busy taking it out on the field in a match of skill with her niece Alassë.
Her stiletto's flashed in the sunlight the twin blades deadly in the hands of the frustrated woman. She attacked as if she meant to kill her opponent with all the energy she had fueled by her anger. But Alassë was more than equal to the challenge though as she excelled at many types of combat. She defended herself with the controlled calm of experience, wielding her foil in graceful turns of the wrist.
"I cannot believe this Alassë! I should have known this would happen, I should have put a stop to it!" said Bethriel turning and thrusting both blades toward her niece's unprotected heart.
Blocking the blow with an upward flick of her thin sword Alassë said "I will not say that I am surprised aunt, your hate for Aeroniel has been plainly seen since she arrived here." She parried and Bethriel fended off the attack by crossing the stiletto's and bearing down her weight to bring her niece face to face.
"Surely you do not approve such a match for the Prince? I realize that Aeroniel is your friend, but can you want her as Fingon's wife?"
Alassë shook her head as they fought back and forth. "I love Aeroniel as a sister Aunt, however I do not believe in a union between the Eldar and Edain. It would only bring pain to those around them and needless death on the immortal."
"I am glad to see that you agree Alassë, I was afraid that you would allow your friendship to cloud your judgment." said Bethriel pausing a moment to brush her braid over her shoulder. "You need to keep your right guard up on the frontal defense or you will find a stiletto growing out of your fair flesh."
Alassë nodded and they continued the dance mid the quick clash, and snap of metal on metal. Watching from the sidelines were the twins Erynion and Daugon, they sat on the ground; Erynion absently humming as he held a fern between his fingers.
"Isn't she magnificent?" breathed Daugon as he watched Alassë driving her Aunt back in a strong offensive move.
"She needs to keep her right guard up." returned Erynion, as he inspected the fern for any sickness. It was a habit he had always possessed and he couldn't help himself. Daugon looked at him sharply and said "Since when did you know anything about fighting and weapons brother?"
"Just because I garden and tend living things, does not mean that I am completely ignorant about killing things. Besides Atar taught me to fire a bow before you because you ate all the grapes off of Yavanna's pet grapevine." snorted Erynion.
Daugon sighed and said "And they were the sweetest most juicy bits of fruit I have ever eaten, I can tell you that I would do it again in a minute. Yavanna didn't care anyway, she was very kind to me."
"That's only because she knew you would catch it from Atar when you got home." muttered Erynion. " And I seem to remember that you couldn't sit down for a week! Now that would be something to tell your beloved."
"You leave my beloved out of it, mind your gardens and I will mind my beloved." said Daugon.
"Speaking of beloveds, what do you think of Fingon choosing my green girl for a bride?" asked Erynion looking up at his brother through the leafy plant.
"Hmmm bad idea. Make no mistake I love them both, but separately not together. I can't understand what Fingon was thinking when he chose her, he's immortal and she's…well human."
"That's stating the very obvious." was the dry reply from the gardener.
"Perhaps, but really he should find a nice eflleth and have a huge family of full blood elves for heirs. Not a girl who could die from going out in the cold air."
"Now Daugon, I understanding what your saying, but you will not speak of either of them like that in my presence. Aeroniel is like a daughter and Fingon is my Prince and friend, I feel more sorry about it then anything because it will simply never work." finished Erynion standing and brushing off the bits of grass and dirt from his tunic.
Daugon nodded and said "I think that I will go and rescue my dear Alassë from her ghastly aunt."
"She really needs rescuing doesn't she?" laughed Erynion as Alassë finally forced her aunt to admit defeat.
"Well, perhaps not." agreed Daugon before he ran out to meet her.
And so conversation went all throughout the glade, everyone sharing their thoughts on the pros and cons of the match. Unfortunately the overwhelming consensus was that it was wrong and should be broken up as soon as may be. However the last word was that of the King and as yet he had not spoken. Till then, the matter was unsettled and no marriage would take place till he did.
-
Authorial Note: I made a mistake in one of the last chapters, when referring to the elf who was in love with Alassë I called him Darien. I used the wrong name and please forgive me if it confused any of you.
Love Always
Jaffee