Note from the author: I hope you will bear with me since this chapter may not be the most exciting. Nonetheless, I feel it is an important chapter for developing my character. Hope that you will stay tuned; the story will be picking up it's pace shortly. Please note that this chapter was inspired by Tolkien's Essay "Laws and Customs Of the Eldar" (Eldar meaning elves) as well as other texts taken from J.R.R.'s Silmarillion.
Thanks as always for reading
Elaenar made his way to the armory in a huff. He and Luthian had just gotten into a fight over something stupid and now he was in a sour mood. Being in the army made him feel sick of people sometimes; he needed to be alone. Elaenar decided to take a reprieve from life in the barracks and go hunting. He strapped his bow and quiver to his back and took off without bothering to tell anyone where he was going.
It was a beautiful September day, the last few of it's kind before the chill of winter set in. Elaenar mused to himself that he often preferred the company of trees to that of people. He trekked several miles deep into untamed wilderness; interesting to think that it hadn't always been this way. Not long ago this had been settled territory, replete with farms, hamlets, boroughs, streets and highways. Every now and then Elaenar would walk past the crumbling edifice of a wall and other archeological hints that this place had looked quite different some hundred odd years ago.
His sharp elvish vision allowed him to see deep into the woods. He was amused to spot red foxes darting out of his path, black squirrels chattering and peering at him from behind the trees, a racoon that he just barely glimpsed before it darted back into its hole. Like any elf, his hearing was also superb. He could hear the chirpy songs of birds from miles away, and he could name every bird just by listening to its chatter. Unfortunately for him he didn't see any deer, except for a mother doe and her baby; and he certainly was going to shoot her.
Instead he watched them; he stood there smiling and charmed by their gentle, skittish nature. The sweet moment was short lived; when she spotted him her tail stood on end and the mother doe and baby fawn bounded deeper into the woods and out of sight.
So much for hunting. But it was fine by him; Elaenar didn't need to hunt; he just needed to be alone for a while. Judging that he had probably wandered far enough and he shouldn't go any further, he decided to sit down on a rock and "smoke". He didn't pull out of his pocket that elegant carved pipe of his or his elvish tobacco. He whipped out a blunt from his pouch; as long as he was alone he might as well take advantage of this moment.
He took a long drag and exhaled deeply. It was nice to have a moment alone to de-stress. And yet as he sat there in the woods, alone, he began to feel a pang in his heart as he became in-touch with just how intensely lonely he felt sometimes. Maybe it was his own fault for being so prickly in nature; his sharp tongue got him into trouble all the time. And yet he couldn't help himself; that's just who he was.
He thought about what Aeründal had said to him, about being a good person. "I wish my own family thought so." He muttered bitterly to himself. Truthfully he had always felt like the black sheep in his family, even when he was little. Being raised by cold and distant parents, Elaenar had discovered from an early age that the only way to get any attention was to behave badly. Out of his three brothers and two sisters, he was the only one who didn't kowtow to his austere and disapproving father.
Elaenar had already been a difficult child, but it only got worse when he reached adolescence. After a lifetime of being constantly chastised, admonished, reprimanded and criticized by his ever-disapproving father, Elaenar was a frustrated and rebellious youth. By the time he was a young man he was considered "wild"; in short, he was promiscuous. And it wasn't a hard thing to be considered promiscuous among elves. As he had grown into adulthood, Elaenar had come into a keen sense of self-awareness. It was no secret to him (or anyone else) that he was unusually handsome. Leveraging his own beauty was one of the few things that made Elaenar feel good about himself. It was easy to make people smitten with him, and he did it often to stroke his own vanity. Even though he was still a virgin, his behavior deeply alarmed his mother and father. In a culture where one's reputation can never be in question, Elaenar's conduct was unacceptable.
All this was bad enough, but then Elaenar went and did the unthinkable: he fell in love with someone that he couldn't have. Lillienel was her name, she was the first love of his life, he was madly in love with her, but there was one problem. She was already married. Or more accurately, she had already been married. She was a widow; her husband was a soldier who had died a hero's death in the Battle of Imladris. Elves aren't supposed to remarry when their husband (or wife) dies. Elves are supposed to be faithful to their marital vows in life and in death. In everyone else's eyes, Lillienel was still married, which meant that Elaenar was coveting another man's wife (nevermind the fact that her husband was three hundred years dead). The fact that her late husband was a venerated war hero made it all the more disgraceful that she and Elaenar were consorting with each other. In Elaenar's opinion, this was ridiculous and maddeningly unfair. But to everyone else, it was infidelity. And to her deceased husband's family, it was a grave insult to their late son.
Elaenar could still remember his father's patronizing counsel, admonishing him to give up the feelings he had for the woman that he desired, cautioning his son against pursuing the wife of a deceased man [elf]. His father had sternly warned Elaenar that marrying a widow would bring disgrace, not only on himself, but on his entire family, and pleaded with him to find virtue in the love for, and commitment to, a virtuous woman who could help him restore his honor.
At the time, and only after immense pressure from his family and from society at large, Elaenar had taken his father's counsel to heart. In the end, Elaenar did get married to someone else; she was the kind of pure and stainless woman that his mother and father had wanted for their son. In his naivety, Elaenar thought that marriage would make him grow into the part of an honorable, faithful husband and ultimately the man [elf] that his father had wanted him to be. And if not marriage, then surely fatherhood would transform him into the person that he aspired to be. But instead Elaenar found himself deeply discontent and after many years of an unhappy, childless marriage it only served to bring out the worst in him.
Elaenar couldn't surrender the feelings he had for Lillienel. They carried on their affair for years; at their lowest they had actually consummated their love for each other. Such infidelity was practically unheard of in the world of elvish affairs. It was a blistering scandal. His wife divorced him in the only way that elves can, to leave him and never speak to him again. She sailed west and Elaenar promised never to follow. To this day Elaenar still felt horrible for what he had done to the woman he married; but he had been desperately unhappy.
Things didn't get easier for them after Elaenar's marriage ended. They wanted to abscond to Rivendell together but their plans were thwarted. Lillienel's late husband's vindictive family, feeling slighted by their union, sent a letter to the crown before they could relocate. Elaenar and Lillienel were forbidden from entering Rivendell together in a royal ordinance that was particularly aimed at Elaenar (since he still had a living wife). He could still remember the shame and fury he'd felt when he was presented with, and read, the royal edict (signed by Lord Elrond himself). He could still recall, with pain, portions of the letter:
"...This city shall not tolerate you to dishonor the memory of our fallen soldier by your unlawful union, nor shall you be permitted to take up residence here for the purpose of living out your adultery whilst you have a living wife..."
Elaenar suggested that they go live among the mortal people, but Lillienel wouldn't consent to it. The weight of being shunned by their families (and all of society) eventually broke them. It was all too much for her; the stigma, the shame, the prospect of being ostracized forever. Elaenar was willing to give up everything and live among men for her; but she wouldn't do the same for him. This made him feel deeply betrayed; Elaenar judged that his loyalty for Lillienel was greater than hers was for him. Fighting ensued, Elaenar lashed out, and soon they were less in love than when they hadn't been together. After a long struggle they separated. When it all fell apart the affair had left Elaenar a jaded, bitter person.
It had been the worst time in Elaenar's life; his hatred for society was at its peak. He went into self-imposed exile and took up residence in Dale, a city inhabited by mortal men. Elaenar lived there for a long time as a craftsmith; elves can make a lot of money plying their trade among men since they are far more skilled and talented. Here Elaenar broke yet another elvish taboo, since accumulating personal wealth is frowned upon among elves.
That had been a wild time in Elaenar's life; he was constantly fighting retaliation from the guilds that tried to banish elvish competition from their city. He had suffered attacks on his person and on his trade; at times he was forced to subvert the law just to continue working in Dale.
Elaenar became heavily involved with the underbelly of the city. In Dale he discovered that there was far more than just alcohol to numb one's pain; he was introduced to a whole world of new substances: uppers, downers, tranquilizers, opiates, hallucinogens. His drug habit was one thing that Elaenar hadn't left behind from living in Dale (his foul language was another bad habit from his time there; he had picked up quite a few un-elvish cuss words while living in the city). At his most debauched he even had affairs with mortal women and half elves. But in the end, the hedonism left Elaenar depressed, broken, and desperate for meaning in his life.
That's when he had decided to join the army. He received the shocking news about the fall of Minas Ithil when he was living in Dale. Gondor's northern fiefdom had been under increasing assault for many years; but this was the final blow that threatened to subdue the entire region of Ithilien. The world was awoken from its apathy; many elves enlisted in the volunteer army after Minas Ithil fell to the orcs. Elvish kings formed entire regiments to aid Gondor in their war against Sauron's forces.
Being a soldier in the army was the one thing that made Elaenar feel good about himself. His service in the army gave him a purpose in life; he was proud to be a long-time soldier (not to mention, killing orcs was cathartic for his angry, embittered soul). In some regard, he had found redemption by serving in the volunteer army.
But perhaps even more importantly, in the army Elaenar had finally found the deep, profound human connection that he'd always been longing for. He found a true family in his brothers-in-arms that he had never felt with his own flesh-and-blood; especially in people like Aeründal. There are few things in this world deeper than the bonds formed among soldiers who fight and die beside each other. The same was true for Luthian; although they fought frequently, Elaenar knew that either of them would die for each other without hesitation. And although he sometimes brushed shoulders with his captain, Elaenar still looked up to Thrandar as a father figure. His Captain recognized him for, and appreciated, his service in the army. It was the kind of recognition Elaenar could only dream of receiving from his own father.
The blunt that Elaeanr had between his fingers was getting smaller and shorter with each puff. He didn't want to return to the barracks, but he knew it wasn't good to be AWOL for too long. He tossed the remainder of the blunt to the ground and stamped it underneath his foot.
When he returned it was half past five. He decided to whittle away the evening smoking a pipe and drinking a mug of beer. Captain Thrandar found him sitting in the common area, reclined with his feet propped up on a table.
"Where have you been?" His commander asked; he sounded agitated.
"Hunting." The disrespectful soldier replied nonchalantly (the consequence of being a bit high and slightly drunk).
"You shouldn't have taken leave without telling someone where you were going; and get your feet off the table when being spoken to by your Captain."
Eleanar promptly did as he was told (oh, how he hated being spoken to that way).
"And don't go hunting alone by yourself anymore. There were orcs spotted a few miles southwest of here. It isn't safe." His Captain finished before promptly walking away.
Elaenar cussed under his breath. Wonderful, just wonderful; now his one reprieve from life in the barracks had been taken away from him. With this new order from his Captain, Elaenar was returned to the sour mood that he had started out with.
