Glorphen
A sudden blast of light- bright and golden. The orc stumbled backwards as if burned and a scream tore out of its throat.
Erenien shot open her eyes, still expecting the flare of pain. They beheld the light as her confused brain tried to figure out what was happening. Soft curls of light emanated from her crossed arms, which by instinct had come up to shield her from the blow, forming a glowing sphere around her.
The light worked through her body, healing every scratch and cut and bruise. It clothed her in a familiar set of golden armour atop a chainmail of mithril. The ivory cloth of her cloak was emblazoned with the insignia of a golden sun, just like the golden breastplate. Upon her waist hung Anoriel's sword, hilt similarly embossed with the sun. Her hands came up to touch the unfamiliar weight of the crown at her brow and she remembered her mother's words.
The sphere of light slowly faded. Those around her snapped out of their stupefied state and the battle resumed. Her sword rang clearly as it was unsheathed, singing of the defiance of the firstborn* against the armies of darkness and of battles bravely fought since the beginning of history.
The orc chief finally dragged himself up after some effort. She waited for him to stand, adjusting the grip on the hilt of her sword.
"Witch," he muttered while her lips twitched into a feral grin in reply.
"I should have killed you," he croaked, as he bent down to take his sword.
"You should have."
She lunged forward. Her opponent couldn't match her agility with the new energy flowing through her. With one last swing of her sword, she disarmed him and brought him to his knees.
"For my family...," saying this, she plunged it into his chest and pulled it back while thick, black liquid sprayed on her sides and seeped into the ground.
When at last he stilled, she glanced up at Thranduil, who watched her with awe and gave a triumphant smile. Head held high, she walked into the dying embers of the battle, and fell in line beside her father. Thranduil caught her in a quick embrace, in a moment spared because of the guards around the king. Together they resumed fighting, as their swords sang in unison for the upcoming victory. It didn't take much time before the enemy fled with the last of their strength.
(***)
A worried nudge to her mind. She extricated herself from the embraces of her father and brother and spun on her heels to meet the worried glance of Feren in a far corner of the battleground.
Laerdil!
With one quick nod to her father, she ran to the group of friends encircling a rock. As they made way for her, she saw Laerdil sitting on the ground, leaning against the rock. There was a growing stain of scarlet on his leather armour.
"I asked them not to, Erenien." Laerdil mumbled.
"Why?" she croaked, bending her knees to sit in front of him.
"I thought that if I was taken, I might not see you again."
"I am right here." Now come, we need to bring you to healers. " She stood up, taking his arm in hers.
His head suddenly dropped down.
"Laero! Can you hear me? "Laero..."
A beloved voice was urgently calling him. His eyes lost focus now and then, and his lips stubbornly refused to obey the command of his mind. A warm rain poured down from her eyes to splatter on his armour. One desperate plea came out of her quivering lips as she raised his knuckles to meet them.
"Stay, please..."
With much effort, his other hand came up to cup her cheek and brushed off a teardrop as his breathing became more laboured.
"You look radiant, Glorphen. Don't let your eyes leak. "
The arm fell down to his lap and his eyelids dropped shut.
"No!" Someone cried out from afar. He had wanted to respond, to reassure them that he was alright. Only there was a power now, steadily increasing, calling him to the West. An assurance of peace and rest away from all the worries of the world. The night was slowly descending on him, dimming his eyes and muting his senses, filling his lungs with emptiness and weighing down his heart. He was drifting towards the boundary where the seen and unseen realms met.
Then there was light- a tiny speck of light that pried away the dark tendrils that choked him. The tiny light grew into the sun, bright and golden. Its light didn't prick his eyes; instead, it caressed him with its warmth. Laerdil peered into its core and saw a dear face. Her eyes were closed, a silvery stream flowing through her cheeks. They stayed for a while at the tip of her chin and then dropped, like diamonds in brilliant light. They fell on him where the dagger had cut. He winced at the sting as the wounded flesh joined together.
"My sun," he whispered. Erenien's eyes shot open and searched his eyes, her face revealing a myriad of expressions. His finger wiped off the last teardrop that hung in her chin.
"Laero! You're back!" Feren embraced him in a bear hug. Over his shoulder, Laero watched her as she looked at him, relief flooding her eyes. He sat back against the rock with the help of Feren. "You...," he began, looking at Erenien. "You healed me."
Her glance flitted at the wound and stared in utter disbelief when Feren cut off a portion of his tunic to reveal only a small cut instead of the gash. She sat back bewildered, eyes moving back and forth between his face and the blood-stained armour.
Eiliandil came forward and both him and Feren helped Laerdil stand upright and the next moment she was in his arms. Laerdil held her close, hiding his face in her hair, inhaling her familiar scent.
But something felt amiss. He pulled back to look at her and a sudden cry escaped his lips as her body went limp in his arms.
(***)
The afternoon sun was shining brightly when Erenien opened her eyes to the familiar ambience of her room. A sigh of relief, somewhere to her left. She turned to meet the azure eyes and his warm smile. He poured a glass of clear liquid and handed it over.
"Here, drink. You must be thirsty."
It tasted sweet and soothed her parched throat. With a satisfied sigh, she sank back to the pillows.
"How do you feel?" Laerdil hesitated.
Erenien shrugged. "I will be alright. How about you?"
"The same can be said about me."
"How did you do that?" He asked suddenly. Erenien threw a questioning look at him.
"The light... your armour... you healed me!"
"I got it from my mother."
"You found who your parents are." It was more a statement than a question.
"I did."
"Why isn't he being taken to the healers?" She cried out, eyes fixed on the weeping wound.
He looked into her eyes for a few moments. "Ae, Ery," he leaned in, taking her hand in his, ignoring the pain as the stitches in his torso were strained.
"You left me," she said in a voice devoid of emotion, yet allowed him to hold her hand.
His next breath was painful. "You left me first."
The silence grew thick between them. "I am sorry," she mumbled at last, fiddling with a loose thread of the coverlet in her lap. "You deserved an explanation for everything."
"Even then, do you think I could have let go of our love?"
"Yet you did and bothered not to say goodbye."
Laerdil closed his eyes and sighed heavily. "I am sorry," he said finally. "I could have insisted on meeting you one final time. I could have stayed, knowing that you will be close even if we didn't meet personally."
"You were unaware of my transformation. I could have visited you and explained everything."
He chuckled. "Both of us are equally at fault. What matters now is whether you can forgive me."
She looked up at him and her lips curled into a smile- small yet genuine. "Only if you can forgive me."
"That I can," he smiled, meeting her eyes.
"Then I forgive you, Laerdil, son of Merendir.
He flashed a brilliant smile, leaving her breathless. It faded only slightly as his eyes trailed down. He leaned further in, his face mere inches from hers, and paused, waiting for her consent. Erenien drew a shaky breath and leaned forward, closing in the final inches between them and brushing her lips with his. A sudden warmth exploded in their souls and the sun smiled down at them through the curtains, from behind a veil of clouds.
(***)
It was an occasion of great joy as Mirkwood celebrated its recent victory. Thranduil entered his throne room, to the eruption of cheers, followed by Legolas and Tauriel, hand in hand. Erenien smiled at them from beside Laerdil, her fingers entwined with his and eyes glittering like starlight. Thranduil climbed the dais and turned to face his people, the hall falling silent as everyone waited in anticipation.
"Today, we are all gathered here to celebrate our victory. In this glorious moment, I would like to thank everyone who fought for our kingdom. It is not the victory of a single person, but of all of us. Let us raise our glasses to victory."
"To victory!" Everyone cheered as glasses were filled and the minstrels began plucking the harp strings. The hall fell silent once more as Thranduil waved his hand.
From his place to the right of his father, Legolas flashed a grin at Erenien. She furrowed her brow. Laerdil gently squeezed her hand, in quiet assurance, and smiled as she stared back.
"I would like to bestow great honour upon the one who defeated our worst enemy in the war. Erenien, come forward," he asked. She took a tentative step towards the throne.
"My daughter single handily fought the Orc captain and defeated him. Her valour must be rewarded," he paused.
Everyone waited in anticipation. From where she stood, Erenien shuffled uncomfortably, because of the sudden attention. Thranduil smiled down at her and beckoned for Findir. Erenien threw a quick glance at him, her eyes widening at the sight of what he carried. In his hand, upon a cushion of velvet lie a crown- an intricate work of twisting vines in delicate silver. To her left, Legolas was hardly trying to stifle a laugh at his sister's baffled expression and mostly failing. Tauriel shot him a glare, though she too was looking fairly amused.
Thranduil motioned Erenien to step forward, which she obliged.
"To the entire woodland realm, I present Erenien Glorphen, the Princess of Eryn Galen."
She snapped out from her stupefied expression and bowed her head. All around her, a tremendous cheer erupted as Thranduil placed the crown upon her head, wearing an expression of pride and affection. She hesitantly turned to face the crowd and offered a reluctant smile, red slowly creeping up her face. Without meeting anyone's gaze, she dipped her head, in respect to her people, which they reciprocated.
The entire night was filled with joy and ample wine. After a very long time, there was music and dance and merriment in the woodland halls. Moonlight streamed into the hall, alighting the throne. A thousand lamps flickered throughout the room, casting warm lights all around.
Erenien squeaked with joy as she danced with Laerdil, her sleeves fluttering behind her. Thranduil watched the pair with gleaming eyes. His gaze then found his son and Tauriel, dancing not far away and remembered Elerien and their first dance which can be safely labelled as awkward. But his son and captain looked so perfect, that he momentarily imagined his crown resting atop Legolas' forehead and Tauriel donning the one of the Queen. Yes, she would make a good queen, brave and true.
In a corner of the room, he saw Eiliandil and Anwel dancing together, big smiles plastered across their faces. He would make a good captain, Thranduil mused. Everything will be alright even if he is to go beyond the sea. The kingdoms shall rise and fall and his realm shall endure for thousands of years to come.
His thoughts were soon put on hold as a merry laugh rang in front of him. Erenien extended her hand, which he took with a smile and allowed her to lead him towards the dancers. They made way for their king and princess. A lively melody flowed from the flute accompanied by the drums. They swayed together, like leaves in the wind, as the stars wheeled overhead and the moon gave way to the sun.
Notes
*Firstborn- Elves consider themselves as the firstborn/ elder children of Eru.