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aearwen2A little while ago, I wrote a short story as a birthday gift for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
randy_o. With his permission, I am now sharing that gift with you. This takes place in my I Dhaerlend Dadui story!verse, for those familiar with my two distinct storylines.
The carpet beneath the king's feet was lush and thick, and the sunlight poured through the open window. Outside, the songs of birds in the trees sweetened the early summer air; but Thranduil's mind was not noticing any of that. His entire focus was on the closed door at the end of the room, and on what was happening beyond.
"You will wear a rut, meleth," Laeriel said softly, not even bothering to look up from her embroidery.
Thranduil stopped and stared at his wife. "I cannot believe that you are as calm as you appear at a time like this!"
Laeriel's smile was as warm as any sunbeam. "I am excited, of course, but…"
"But…" His patience was very close to gone. "But?"
With what seemed like exaggerated grace and slowness, the delicate silk was set aside, the rawhide finger guard placed like a crown over the needle stuck into the tumbled material. Laeriel rose and moved to face him. "But I know what is happening within, just as you do. We both know that it takes time, and that getting yourself worked up into a lather will not hasten things along. You, my love, are simply impatient…"
"I have a right to be…"
"Right has nothing to do with it, for you have never needed a reason to be impatient; it is simply your nature, just as it is your nature to try to fashion all of life's milestones to your satisfaction," she reminded him even as she put a calming hand on his arm. "As I remember, you were so anxious for the year to end, when it was your turn…"
A commotion from beyond the door broke through the bubble of peace that Laeriel had almost succeeded in constructing around him, and she had to hang on hard to keep him from just pushing through the door. "No! Thranduil! You know better than that!"
"But…"
"But nothing." Laeriel's hand was now firmly grasping his arm and dragging him over to where her chair sat before the open window. "Sit down. You will wait, as you are supposed to."
"But…"
"Legolas will come out to us soon enough."
"But…"
Laeriel glared at him, giving a deep sigh that came from the bottom of her very being. For the most part, this was a side of Thranduil that she hadn't seen for almost an entire Age, and it was a part of him that she really hadn't felt nostalgic for. "Enough. You will survive these next few minutes, although you will do so in a much more diminished capacity if you continue to exhibit the patience of a flea. Now. Sit. Down."
Green eyes narrowed dangerously. "I exhibit the patience of a what?"
"You heard me: you have the patience of a flea today. You remind me of one as well, hopping from one foot to the other the way you were." She shot a wondering look at the closed door, hearing the sounds of murmuring inside, and then returned to give her husband a fond yet frustrated glance. "A great, big, golden-haired sand-flea."
"You forget who you are speaking to."
Thrusting her fists into her waist, Laeriel glared at him. "I most certainly do not. You were once King of Eryn Lasgalen, and now rule Avathar. You are a friend to tree and beast and land alike, and you still look more like a sand-flea than an Elf with all your twitching and hopping about!" With a flounce, she planted herself in her chair again and reached for her embroidery. She'd never have the little gown finished at this rate! "If he were here, rather than back in Tirion as your trade ambassador, Galion would tell you the same thing, and you know it; in fact, he did, back when…"
"Enough!"
Thranduil strode angrily over to the open window and gazed across the courtyard to the beach that lay beyond. "You have no idea how impossible it is to believe this day has arrived at last."
"Oh, I think I understand rather well." The silk fell into Laeriel's lap as the hands that held it dropped. "You forget I saw him after Gimli stepped past the circles of the world, Thranduil. I watched him take sole responsibility for giving his brother-of-the-heart – the last of the Mortals whom he loved so dearly – his resting place in Ol's halls, and then I watched him begin to fade in the weeks and months thereafter. I spoke to Elrond, who devised some scheme that seemed to slow the process down, but only his reaction to your little boat landing in Tol Eressëa gave me hope that he would actually learn to survive here after all, and maybe heal from the grief caused as a result of his attachment to Mortals." She gazed into stricken green eyes. "So do not tell me I do not understand how impossible this would seem. You did not see the worst of it."
"I saw the Sea Longing," Thranduil whispered, "and the toll exacted every time one of the Mortals he had become so close to went where he would never be able to follow. The long-year he lingered in Ennor before taking ship – all on the strength of a promise to a Mortal friend – was an agony that few Elves survive. That was bad enough."
"But that is behind us now," Laeriel told him, drawing a shaky breath and straightening her posture. "We are together as a family again. You brought us here, to this new land, and along the way gave him a chance to finally find a life's mate in Mídhivren, and now…"
The door that had been closed opened, and Legolas stepped through bearing a small bundle wrapped in warm green. His face showed the signs of the effort that had been spent over the last hours, but his eyes danced and his smile was euphoric. "Father, Mother, I would like you to meet Ninniach, your granddaughter."
Laeriel thrust the silk aside again in her haste to rise and moved closer to get her first glimpse of the tiny face, the dusting of golden hair, the delicate points to her ears, and the deep blue gaze of the newborn. "Legolas, she is beautiful!" She glanced over at her husband when he didn't press in the way she thought he would, and was startled to see him staring at the newborn with tears rolling down his face. "Thranduil?"
Legolas followed her glance, and his face wrinkled in worry. "Father?"
"Ninniach," Thranduil said slowly, finally moving forward a little to stroke the delicate cheek with a forefinger. "The symbol of joy that appears after the storm indeed." He looked into the face of his son, and Laeriel's heart swelled with the pride that suddenly filled his face. "The House of Thranduil flourishes once more. Just wait until your grandfather hears of this! It may even give him a reason to come south at last."
Legolas' worry faded, and he shifted the green-wrapped baby in his arms. "Your newest subject, Sire." And he slipped his firstborn into his father's waiting arms.
Thranduil's gaze landed on Laeriel with intense satisfaction. "Our granddaughter."
And Laeriel leaned into his upper arm and lost herself in the wondering study of a child whose arrival had been anxiously and lovingly awaited. "Our House thrives indeed, meleth!"
Sindarin Vocabulary
meleth - love (an endearment)
Ninniach - rainbow
Ol - Aulë
randy_o. With his permission, I am now sharing that gift with you. This takes place in my I Dhaerlend Dadui story!verse, for those familiar with my two distinct storylines. The carpet beneath the king's feet was lush and thick, and the sunlight poured through the open window. Outside, the songs of birds in the trees sweetened the early summer air; but Thranduil's mind was not noticing any of that. His entire focus was on the closed door at the end of the room, and on what was happening beyond.
"You will wear a rut, meleth," Laeriel said softly, not even bothering to look up from her embroidery.
Thranduil stopped and stared at his wife. "I cannot believe that you are as calm as you appear at a time like this!"
Laeriel's smile was as warm as any sunbeam. "I am excited, of course, but…"
"But…" His patience was very close to gone. "But?"
With what seemed like exaggerated grace and slowness, the delicate silk was set aside, the rawhide finger guard placed like a crown over the needle stuck into the tumbled material. Laeriel rose and moved to face him. "But I know what is happening within, just as you do. We both know that it takes time, and that getting yourself worked up into a lather will not hasten things along. You, my love, are simply impatient…"
"I have a right to be…"
"Right has nothing to do with it, for you have never needed a reason to be impatient; it is simply your nature, just as it is your nature to try to fashion all of life's milestones to your satisfaction," she reminded him even as she put a calming hand on his arm. "As I remember, you were so anxious for the year to end, when it was your turn…"
A commotion from beyond the door broke through the bubble of peace that Laeriel had almost succeeded in constructing around him, and she had to hang on hard to keep him from just pushing through the door. "No! Thranduil! You know better than that!"
"But…"
"But nothing." Laeriel's hand was now firmly grasping his arm and dragging him over to where her chair sat before the open window. "Sit down. You will wait, as you are supposed to."
"But…"
"Legolas will come out to us soon enough."
"But…"
Laeriel glared at him, giving a deep sigh that came from the bottom of her very being. For the most part, this was a side of Thranduil that she hadn't seen for almost an entire Age, and it was a part of him that she really hadn't felt nostalgic for. "Enough. You will survive these next few minutes, although you will do so in a much more diminished capacity if you continue to exhibit the patience of a flea. Now. Sit. Down."
Green eyes narrowed dangerously. "I exhibit the patience of a what?"
"You heard me: you have the patience of a flea today. You remind me of one as well, hopping from one foot to the other the way you were." She shot a wondering look at the closed door, hearing the sounds of murmuring inside, and then returned to give her husband a fond yet frustrated glance. "A great, big, golden-haired sand-flea."
"You forget who you are speaking to."
Thrusting her fists into her waist, Laeriel glared at him. "I most certainly do not. You were once King of Eryn Lasgalen, and now rule Avathar. You are a friend to tree and beast and land alike, and you still look more like a sand-flea than an Elf with all your twitching and hopping about!" With a flounce, she planted herself in her chair again and reached for her embroidery. She'd never have the little gown finished at this rate! "If he were here, rather than back in Tirion as your trade ambassador, Galion would tell you the same thing, and you know it; in fact, he did, back when…"
"Enough!"
Thranduil strode angrily over to the open window and gazed across the courtyard to the beach that lay beyond. "You have no idea how impossible it is to believe this day has arrived at last."
"Oh, I think I understand rather well." The silk fell into Laeriel's lap as the hands that held it dropped. "You forget I saw him after Gimli stepped past the circles of the world, Thranduil. I watched him take sole responsibility for giving his brother-of-the-heart – the last of the Mortals whom he loved so dearly – his resting place in Ol's halls, and then I watched him begin to fade in the weeks and months thereafter. I spoke to Elrond, who devised some scheme that seemed to slow the process down, but only his reaction to your little boat landing in Tol Eressëa gave me hope that he would actually learn to survive here after all, and maybe heal from the grief caused as a result of his attachment to Mortals." She gazed into stricken green eyes. "So do not tell me I do not understand how impossible this would seem. You did not see the worst of it."
"I saw the Sea Longing," Thranduil whispered, "and the toll exacted every time one of the Mortals he had become so close to went where he would never be able to follow. The long-year he lingered in Ennor before taking ship – all on the strength of a promise to a Mortal friend – was an agony that few Elves survive. That was bad enough."
"But that is behind us now," Laeriel told him, drawing a shaky breath and straightening her posture. "We are together as a family again. You brought us here, to this new land, and along the way gave him a chance to finally find a life's mate in Mídhivren, and now…"
The door that had been closed opened, and Legolas stepped through bearing a small bundle wrapped in warm green. His face showed the signs of the effort that had been spent over the last hours, but his eyes danced and his smile was euphoric. "Father, Mother, I would like you to meet Ninniach, your granddaughter."
Laeriel thrust the silk aside again in her haste to rise and moved closer to get her first glimpse of the tiny face, the dusting of golden hair, the delicate points to her ears, and the deep blue gaze of the newborn. "Legolas, she is beautiful!" She glanced over at her husband when he didn't press in the way she thought he would, and was startled to see him staring at the newborn with tears rolling down his face. "Thranduil?"
Legolas followed her glance, and his face wrinkled in worry. "Father?"
"Ninniach," Thranduil said slowly, finally moving forward a little to stroke the delicate cheek with a forefinger. "The symbol of joy that appears after the storm indeed." He looked into the face of his son, and Laeriel's heart swelled with the pride that suddenly filled his face. "The House of Thranduil flourishes once more. Just wait until your grandfather hears of this! It may even give him a reason to come south at last."
Legolas' worry faded, and he shifted the green-wrapped baby in his arms. "Your newest subject, Sire." And he slipped his firstborn into his father's waiting arms.
Thranduil's gaze landed on Laeriel with intense satisfaction. "Our granddaughter."
And Laeriel leaned into his upper arm and lost herself in the wondering study of a child whose arrival had been anxiously and lovingly awaited. "Our House thrives indeed, meleth!"
Sindarin Vocabulary
meleth - love (an endearment)
Ninniach - rainbow
Ol - Aulë
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Birthday
Date: 2010-08-08 02:31 pm (UTC)Is Avathar a place in the new land that you hint of in your story lines that you told us you were working on? Soooo exciting!
Hugs,
Vanime
Re: Birthday
Date: 2010-08-09 01:01 am (UTC)Yes.
Actually, Avathar is a canon location - it sits outside the Pelóri on the east coast of Valinor, to the south of the Calacirya. Maps will disagree as to just how wide an area it is from coast to mountains, but I'm positing that they incorporate enough land to need exploring and/or settling.
I Dhaerlend Dadui, on top of being the name of the pivotal novel of that entire storyline, is Sindarin for "The Second Great Journey". If one considers that the First Great Journey was Oromë getting the Elves to come to Aman, the Second such journey would take place in Aman itself, but go "elsewhere".
The novel currently sits at 85K+ words, and I'm now working on Chapter 12. It's a mammoth undertaking, with a huge cast of characters - and several of my "published" stories are part of it: "Light Fingers", "Elladaniel", "In The House of Elrond", "Foundlings", "Along Came A Spider" are the longer works that "fit".
At my website, I have all the stories that belong to the storyline organized together, fwiw...
Re: Birthday
Date: 2010-08-10 12:31 am (UTC)For some reason, I had pictured that the Second Great Journey would be to an island or land not far from Aman/Valinor itself; but that you say takes place in Aman itself is VERY intriguing to say the least! :)
85,000 words??? Whew! I can't count that high! :D LOL Dare I ask how many chapters you think it will be before it is completed? And can we call it your Magnus Opus? ;) And fwiw, I can't wait to not only see this opus, but to see Changeling as well...will any of the characters from the previously mentioned stories be mentioned in passing in the novel amongst the characters there? Just wondered...
Hugs,
Vanime
Re: Birthday
Date: 2010-08-10 02:28 am (UTC)All in all, as I fill in gaps in the storyline now, I will make use of characters I've already created and/or events that I've already written as if it were the current story's back-history. When time permits, I'll probably go back and make minor edits to ensure continuity over the entire arc - or at least do so at Bennas Aeärwen.
And when the time comes, if needed, Ninniach from this tale will play her part too, as will her mother. It will be a consistent storyline that doesn't contradict itself along the way. Yes, I suppose this would constitute a Magnum Opus.
And FWIW, "Along Came a Spider" isn't so much about spiders per se as it's the story of Ungoliant, told from *her* perspective, where she relates the events of the First Age from the Silmarillion. I honestly think there will only be one or two spots that might tweak at your arachniphobia. It is, honestly, the most philosophical story I've ever written - and I'm quite proud of it. Give it a try - just the first chapter - and see what you think, OK?
Re: Birthday
Date: 2010-08-10 02:37 am (UTC)If you know my private email - or can get a personal message to me here - I have a suggestion for you. Drop me a line.
Re: Birthday
Date: 2010-08-10 10:39 pm (UTC)Just sent you an email using my yahoo account. Hope you get it!
Hugs,
Vanime
no subject
Date: 2010-08-08 05:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-09 12:42 am (UTC)