Author's Notes:
Disclaimer: Don't own Tolkien's stuff, wish I did.
In chapter two I mention Glorfindel loving her since the first time he saw her dance. That was sparked by a snippet from a fic called "Black, White, and Gold" by Shauna (Shauna1 on ff.net) in chapter six. The fic isn't centered on Idril, but she's mentioned and there's a short, beautifully written passage near the end of the chapter.
Thanks to Evenstar Elanor and Squirrel on the Edge for their kind reviews. You were the first and are definitely motivating me to keep writing.
Thanks as well to my muse, Elrond from Lothlorian RPG (yes, it is spelled wrong). Now give me back my brain cell.
It was cold. He was colder than he had ever remembered being in his life; he couldn't imagine how the younger elves felt if even he, a hardened soldier, was slowly beginning to crumble under the strain. The long line of elves extended as far as he could see, led by Fingolfin and his sons with Artanis at their side.
The Lord Glorfindel could barely make out the snow-whitened head of Lady Aredhel and it was only through recognizing her that he could find the frighteningly slender elf beside her. He frowned briefly, taking in the young lady's tiny form, covered though it was by mounds of furs and whatever else could be spared. She held the hands of two even younger elves, the children clinging to her long skirts.
Quickening his stride, he drew even with Aredhel and spoke quietly with her. The pair slowed their pace until the young ones were out of hearing range, allowing them to speak freely.
"How is she?" Glorfindel asked with some concern, his blue eyes lighting on the golden haired elf ahead of them.
"She gives most of her food and furs to the young ones...and anyone else who has run low on food," Aredhel replied quietly, her dark eyes watching his face with interest.
"Does she keep any for herself?" he questioned.
"Very little...if she does at all. Her concern is for the others though. She seems resigned...too accepting," was the woman's reply.
"She needs to be eating, else she'll get sick," Glorfindel whispered.
"Neither her mother nor father have been successful in getting her to take her share. Perhaps a word from you may help?" Aredhel said coolly.
The daughter of Fingolfin smiled smugly to herself as the blonde elf lord nodded absently, a distant look in his eyes. She had suspected for some time that he felt more for her niece than most thought, but she could not glean anything from Artanis except for an amused laugh and a wave of her hand.
He excused himself from her presence, his muscles screaming in pain as he pressed forward.
"My lady?" he asked as he drew near the three young elves.
The tallest turned with a graceful movement, a gaunt face with lapis lazuli eyes peeking out from beneath a fur hood.
"Glorfindel!" A smile curved lips blue with cold.
She paused a moment to ask one of the other elves to keep an eye on the children, then turned back to the Lord of the House of the Golden Flower. He took the time to really look at her. Her body was much too thin for its height, though at this point that was true for most of the elves on the journey, but what bothered him was the fact that he could easily discern her fines bones beneath her unnaturally pale skin.
"Idril...are you all right?" he asked, taking her arm with a proper bow.
The young princess turned her head to him, lips curving in a little smile.
"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?"
"Idril," Glorfindel's voice was suddenly stern, though there was no mistaking the deep concern laced behind his hard words, "You've been giving away your food...and your clothes. You must be freezing and starving."
Her hood slipped back to reveal fine hair, hair that had once been the fresh colour of corn silk, but was now only a dulled gold dusted with snowflakes and ice. She shook her head at him, eyes brightly fierce as they glared at him from within her bony face.
"They need the extra food, Glorfindel!" Idril began heatedly, "They're still so little!"
He stopped them both, taking her shoulders in his hands and shaking her.
"YOU'RE still little, Idril!" he said forcefully, "You need the food too," he continued, voice softening as the girl's eyes filled with tears.
"I'm not little anymore," she tried to defend herself, standing straight.
It was partly true, the noldo girl was hardly a child, but she was still only reaching the very first blushes of maidenhood, her figure gawky and long limbed. But she was still young, much younger than most of the adults that coveted their rations and shared nothing with the others.
"Idril...promise me you'll take care of yourself?" Glorfindel asked quietly, looking at her with a gentle smile.
She wiped away a stray tear and nodded sullenly, "I promise," she muttered.
"That's my girl," he said, drawing her in for a hug.
Idril wrapped her arms around his waist, drawing from him the warmth she so desperately needed in this cold. He held her for several moments, then released her.
"Walk with an old elf?" he asked, blue eyes twinkling as he offered her his arm with a gallant bow.
Long missed laughter escaped Idril's blue lips. She managed a curtsy worthy of a king despite the cold and laced her arm through his for the rest of the day's walk. It wouldn't be long as they could both see the front of the line beginning to slow and unload what little they had for the brief reprieve. Rations would be handed out and furs laid down so that the younger ones could rest.
end part one...
Disclaimer: Don't own Tolkien's stuff, wish I did.
In chapter two I mention Glorfindel loving her since the first time he saw her dance. That was sparked by a snippet from a fic called "Black, White, and Gold" by Shauna (Shauna1 on ff.net) in chapter six. The fic isn't centered on Idril, but she's mentioned and there's a short, beautifully written passage near the end of the chapter.
Thanks to Evenstar Elanor and Squirrel on the Edge for their kind reviews. You were the first and are definitely motivating me to keep writing.
Thanks as well to my muse, Elrond from Lothlorian RPG (yes, it is spelled wrong). Now give me back my brain cell.
It was cold. He was colder than he had ever remembered being in his life; he couldn't imagine how the younger elves felt if even he, a hardened soldier, was slowly beginning to crumble under the strain. The long line of elves extended as far as he could see, led by Fingolfin and his sons with Artanis at their side.
The Lord Glorfindel could barely make out the snow-whitened head of Lady Aredhel and it was only through recognizing her that he could find the frighteningly slender elf beside her. He frowned briefly, taking in the young lady's tiny form, covered though it was by mounds of furs and whatever else could be spared. She held the hands of two even younger elves, the children clinging to her long skirts.
Quickening his stride, he drew even with Aredhel and spoke quietly with her. The pair slowed their pace until the young ones were out of hearing range, allowing them to speak freely.
"How is she?" Glorfindel asked with some concern, his blue eyes lighting on the golden haired elf ahead of them.
"She gives most of her food and furs to the young ones...and anyone else who has run low on food," Aredhel replied quietly, her dark eyes watching his face with interest.
"Does she keep any for herself?" he questioned.
"Very little...if she does at all. Her concern is for the others though. She seems resigned...too accepting," was the woman's reply.
"She needs to be eating, else she'll get sick," Glorfindel whispered.
"Neither her mother nor father have been successful in getting her to take her share. Perhaps a word from you may help?" Aredhel said coolly.
The daughter of Fingolfin smiled smugly to herself as the blonde elf lord nodded absently, a distant look in his eyes. She had suspected for some time that he felt more for her niece than most thought, but she could not glean anything from Artanis except for an amused laugh and a wave of her hand.
He excused himself from her presence, his muscles screaming in pain as he pressed forward.
"My lady?" he asked as he drew near the three young elves.
The tallest turned with a graceful movement, a gaunt face with lapis lazuli eyes peeking out from beneath a fur hood.
"Glorfindel!" A smile curved lips blue with cold.
She paused a moment to ask one of the other elves to keep an eye on the children, then turned back to the Lord of the House of the Golden Flower. He took the time to really look at her. Her body was much too thin for its height, though at this point that was true for most of the elves on the journey, but what bothered him was the fact that he could easily discern her fines bones beneath her unnaturally pale skin.
"Idril...are you all right?" he asked, taking her arm with a proper bow.
The young princess turned her head to him, lips curving in a little smile.
"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?"
"Idril," Glorfindel's voice was suddenly stern, though there was no mistaking the deep concern laced behind his hard words, "You've been giving away your food...and your clothes. You must be freezing and starving."
Her hood slipped back to reveal fine hair, hair that had once been the fresh colour of corn silk, but was now only a dulled gold dusted with snowflakes and ice. She shook her head at him, eyes brightly fierce as they glared at him from within her bony face.
"They need the extra food, Glorfindel!" Idril began heatedly, "They're still so little!"
He stopped them both, taking her shoulders in his hands and shaking her.
"YOU'RE still little, Idril!" he said forcefully, "You need the food too," he continued, voice softening as the girl's eyes filled with tears.
"I'm not little anymore," she tried to defend herself, standing straight.
It was partly true, the noldo girl was hardly a child, but she was still only reaching the very first blushes of maidenhood, her figure gawky and long limbed. But she was still young, much younger than most of the adults that coveted their rations and shared nothing with the others.
"Idril...promise me you'll take care of yourself?" Glorfindel asked quietly, looking at her with a gentle smile.
She wiped away a stray tear and nodded sullenly, "I promise," she muttered.
"That's my girl," he said, drawing her in for a hug.
Idril wrapped her arms around his waist, drawing from him the warmth she so desperately needed in this cold. He held her for several moments, then released her.
"Walk with an old elf?" he asked, blue eyes twinkling as he offered her his arm with a gallant bow.
Long missed laughter escaped Idril's blue lips. She managed a curtsy worthy of a king despite the cold and laced her arm through his for the rest of the day's walk. It wouldn't be long as they could both see the front of the line beginning to slow and unload what little they had for the brief reprieve. Rations would be handed out and furs laid down so that the younger ones could rest.
end part one...