Adult-FanFiction.org : Lord of the Rings

Hearts of fire, souls of ice	By : Nuredhel Category: -Fourth Age to Modern times and beyond > Het - Male/Female Views: 2339 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings, it belongs to Tolkien, and i do not earn any money from this work of fiction, it is solely written for entertainment and not for profit at all.I do not own Lord of the Rings, it belongs to Tolkien,

Chapter List
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Enter the main character of this story, a very unusual young elleth with a secret of which she is oblivious. Now, what will happen when this strange creature meet the very unhappy and stressed out king?
Rated A due to mature themes and hints of torture/rape.
Chapter Three: Starlight and apparitions
She could hear her father’s voice from the door. “Hurry, we have to go now my dear, remember your cloak.”
She sighed and took one last look around, the inside of the small cottage had been her entire world for her entire life and now she had to leave it all behind. They had little things of value so they could travel light but she knew that she would miss this place. After all, it had been her home. She had felt safe there but now they were no longer safe and had to leave. Her father was waiting impatiently and he looked sad too. This was the home he had built for his family and now it had all been in vain, she knew how this had to hurt him. She was all that he had left, he would not risk her safety by holding on to the past and so she sighed and took a deep breath as if to save the scent of this small building forever. She felt how tears were stinging in her eyes, behind the cottage where the graves of her mother and her brother and sister and she knew that she never would have left had they not been in danger. The orcs were attacking ever more frequently and this small settlement had no defense. It was wise that the king had ordered everybody to evacuate but she felt that it did little to remove the root of the problem.
She put her cloak on, it had been designed and made for her in special and she hated it, but it was useful. Without it she could not go outdoors in broad daylight and she grasped her small bundle of things and followed her father. The rest of the inhabitants of the small place waited there along some of the king’s soldiers. They had brought horses and carriages since there were too few horses in this place for all of the elves who lived there. She had never learned how to ride a horse and so she was allowed to sit in one of the carriages. She blinked and looked down, the light would burn her eyes so she covered her head completely and allowed her ears and nose tell her of the area they travelled through.
Her father was riding beside her, he was on top of a small bay gelding and she could tell that he was somewhat proud to be back on horseback. He could not afford a horse but he loved them, and she knew that he once had been a very good warrior. Now he was just a memory of the ellon he once had been, weak and maimed and in his own eyes not very useful. He had been attacked by some orcs many years ago, he had killed them all but they had wounded him severely before he managed to put an end to them, and one of them had had a warg which had injured his left leg so badly that the healers had to amputate much of it. He now had an artificial lower leg and he was limping. His other wounds had been nasty too and he had little use of his left hand and arm and he was rather stiff due to a huge amount of scar tissue. He tried to be brave and strong but she knew that his heart was yearning for the sea now, he wanted to sail west but he would not do it until she agreed on following him or he was sure that she would be safe.
She tried to relax and think positive thoughts, she knew that they would get a new home and perhaps she would have a chance to learn more about this world and herself. She tried to doze off but the carriage moved too much and so she remained sitting there deep within her own thoughts. Her mother had died when she was just two weeks old, she had been a surprise, her parents had not tried to have more children since they already had two and for a people who did not multiply very well two was a respectable number. When her mother was close to her due day there was an attack and her sister had been mortally wounded. The healers had given up on her and told the parents that the only thing they could do was to say their goodbyes and pray that she would be welcomed in the halls of Mandos. They had cried and prayed and the next morning the girl had been well, in fact healthier than ever. It was a miracle but her mother had understood something that the others did not. The child in her had a rare gift, one which was both a blessing and a curse. She could return life to someone who was on the brink of dying but that did require that someone else died. It was a terrible curse and when the child was born they were horrified to discover that this strange gift wasn’t the only curse she was carrying. Her mother had paid the ultimate price, she had given her life as the price for her oldest daughters and only she and her husband knew of the girl’s terrible fate.
The girl had grown up without a mother and although it was a very small cottage and they were poor it was a home filled with love and laughter. Her sister was a mother to her and her brother would keep her safe and tell her stories of the forest and all the wonders she was unable to experience. Her father was making a living from gathering herbs and making potions and ointments and she soon took an interest in healing. It was dangerous considering her gift but he did not try to change her opinion, if it was to be then it was to be. She had become rather good with all sorts of herbs and she loved to make nice perfumes and skin creams.
Then it all had changed, and she was barely able to think of that terrible day without trembling and feeling a terrible sensation of helplessness. It had been early spring and the winter that year had been extremely hard. There had been many feet of snow and when the weather suddenly changed and became warm there were floods everywhere. Her sister and brother had been out trying to find some rare herbs and when an entire hillside crumbled, they had been unable to escape and both were killed in the huge landslide. Her father had almost succumbed to his grief and she was the only reason why he was still alive.
The cottage had been filled with light but now it became a place of mourning and she was somehow glad that she had to leave. It held just too many memories and perhaps a new start somewhere else was what they both needed. She felt the heat from the sun against the thick cloth of her cloak, she wished that she could enjoy its warming rays like all others but she would get serious injuries if she tried. She had gotten out a few times when she was younger but it had always ended in pain and tears. Starlight and moonlight was her salvation, the night her day. She did not know why the Valar had cursed her so but they must have had their reason. Hardly anybody had ever seen her face and although everyone in the small village knew who she was few had met her face to face. It would change now and she feared the reactions of others, who did not know who she was.
The carriage was moving forward, she hoped that it was towards a better future, one in which she could find hope and perhaps even happiness. She was tired of being treated as if she was made of crystals and moonbeams, she had feelings and ideas and needs like all others but only the lonely nights had heard her voice or seen her tears. To be different is sometimes the cruelest of fates.
It was late at night when they arrived at the Mirkwood palace after two days of journeying through the forest. They had rested while being guarded well but all were glad that they finally were there, and that they were safe. The refugees were met in the courtyard by servants and others who were showing them to their new homes. Since this was the last group to arrive they were given rooms within the palace itself, the other groups from bigger villages had been placed within the elven villages which lay in the area around the palace. She had never seen so many elves in one place before and never such a place. She was staring through the gaps in the fabric and her breath was fast and her heart beating like a drum. Her father smiled at her, reassuring and gently. “Do not worry my child, you will be safe her.”
A tall ellon with long brown hair and a rather elegant appearance approached the group, he smiled gently and opened his arms towards them. “Welcome, I hope your journey wasn’t too tough? I am Lendarion, I am a counsellor to the king and it is my duty to welcome you all and make sure that you all have what you need to start a new life here. “
She thought that he looked like a truly likeable person and he moved with such grace and strength, she had barely seen other Ellyn than her father and brother and the few who visited their cottage to buy herbs and medicine and she suddenly felt how poor she really was. Not in the usual meaning of the word because she had never been starving or freezing but she was poor when it came to knowledge and experiences. How little she had seen and done, and how little she knew of this world.
Lendarion started to go through the list of names to ensure that everybody was there and she and her father was the last on the list. The counsellor stared at her father. “You must be Astar? I have heard of you, you saved the life of the king’s father once, during one of the battles of the last alliance? I am honored to meet you”
Her father blushed but she could see the pride in him, that this counsellor actually knew who he was and treated him with respect did wonders for his self-esteem. Lendarion turned towards the cloaked figure standing behind Astar and he was clearly confused. Astar tried to smile. “This is my daughter, she has a rare condition which causes her to cover herself at all times. She has to get rooms with no sunlight.”
Lendarion stared at the weird figure with disbelief and Astar smiled gently. “It is ok my dear, you can show your face to the honored counsellor, it is still dark. “
She hesitated, then she pulled down the piece of the cloak which covered her face. Lendarion stared at her face, his eyes as wide as dinner plates and his mouth open. She shivered, she knew that this reaction was to expect and that she would have to get used to it. Still it hurt her heart like stabs from a dagger and she whimpered and lowered her eyes to the ground, tears were burning in them. Lendarion closed his mouth but he was still staring in utter disbelief. His mind was racing and he was thinking to himself that this was impossible, his next thought was that he had found her, the Valar had spoken and showed him the light and this was the one elleth he had been looking for. If she didn’t catch the king’s eye then nothing would!
Lendarion smiled but he was still staring and there was something very peculiar within his gaze, like he was suddenly very pleased for some reason? “I will make sure that you are given rooms below the ground level, do not worry, everything will be taken care of.”
He was about to leave to inform the servants when he remembered something. “Ah, there will be a feast two nights from now, to celebrate the princes birthday, do you have anything proper to wear my lady? Everybody is expected to show up and the etiquette of the court is a bit hard to understand right away. A nice gown is essential.”
She shook her head. “I…I don’t own any gowns. “
Lendarion gave her his most reassuring smile. “Then I will send one of the tailors to you tomorrow to make sure that you blend in with the other ellith here. Do not worry, you will look…un-believable!”
She swallowed, he would give her a gown? Were these noble elves that charitable? He swallowed again. “I am sorry my lady, I did not get your name?”
He stared at the list, it just said Astar and daughter. She looked down again. “I am named Nireariel. “
His eyes went wide again. “Sea of tears, what a tragic name for such a tender young thing!”
She could only swallow and her father placed his arm around her shoulder. “Come my dear, the servants will show us to our new home, it will be a new start for us both. You are weary and hungry and so am I, we need some rest before we start to get familiar with this new place. “
She just nodded and followed him, pulling her cloak up again so only her eyes were visible. She could see that many were staring at her and she whimpered and wished that she could run and hide herself somewhere where nobody ever would see her.
The rooms they had been given were nice, not big but warm and cozy with good furniture and close both to the servants quarters and the healing ward. Astar sighed with relief, here he would be useful again, they always needed someone good with herbs and such and Nireariel could learn more about healing. It was just perfect. They had a combined kitchen and livingroom and two small bedrooms with nice comfortable beds and best of all no windows. Nireariel knew that she could live there, and live well. She was so tired that she fell asleep the moment her head hit the pillow in spite of the unfamiliar surroundings.
The next day she started to learn more about her new home. She was surprised to find out that there were huge gardens within the palace and that they were used to grow anything from herbs to recreation. There were also a river running through the entire structure and she was in awe of all the wonders her father showed her. He had been there before but it was many centuries ago, yet he remembered it all rather well and entertained her with stories of things which had happened there. She knew the place fairly well after a few hours, well enough to walk around without getting lost and when she returned to their quarters she felt her head spinning with all the new information she had received. She would be given a small job within the healing ward to start with and her father would help the head healer making medicine. It made him very proud and she was so glad on his behalf. It meant the world to him to be able to do something useful instead of being a cripple. She made some food and sat down with some books about healing, her mother had left several good books for her and she had read them all until there was nothing left of them. Here she had been given some new ones and she was eager to learn more, she felt an almost childlike joy at the prospect of learning new things. She did not stop reading before she to her astonishment discovered that her father had returned and gone to bed, and that it was in the middle of the night.
Her head was heavy and she felt warm, she needed fresh air and at this time of the day there would be few people up and about. She had noticed that one of the gardens looked almost like a small part of the forest itself locked within the palace and it had a hole in the roof through which the moonlight would look stunning on a night like this. The moon was her sun and she had also seen the small pond in the middle of the patch of forest. It was made to bathe in and she felt how she needed to cool down. She put her robe on and left their rooms silently, she found her way to the garden and there was nobody there, it was perfect. The moon was hanging up there like a pale lantern and she could see the stars sparkle like diamonds thrown onto a black velvet blanket. It was so beautiful it almost brought her to tears. She stared at the small pond and let her robe fall before she waded into the cold water and sighed in relief as it cooled her off and she just stood there relaxed and content. A few night birds were singing and she tried to imitate them and giggled when she heard the rather annoyed answers. Suddenly she thought she heard a twig snap but she did not hear any other sounds and this place was safe so she finished her bath before she put her robe back on and returned to her room. She had a feeling that this place would change her completely, only the Valar knew if it would be for the better or the worse.
The king had stayed in his study most of that evening, he had worked like crazy to find the right amount of warriors he should send to defend the borders and how many he had to keep there to keep the palace safe. It was like laying a puzzle only to discover that certain vital pieces were missing and he felt how his head ached and his body yearned for real rest. He could not understand how his father had managed to rule this kingdom and still remain so strong vital and well-liked by the people. He made a grimace, the people had never seen his father’s true nature, that was the truth. They only saw their king, benevolent and strong with amazing talents in many areas, they never saw the hard bitter ellon who demanded that his own flesh and blood became even more perfect than himself. He could not remember how many times he had been told that he just wasn’t good enough, that he would have to work harder, become stronger. That he had to become his own brother.
Thranduil closed his eyes, he had lived in his brother’s shadow his entire life, Cunarin had been the apple of his father’s eye and Thranduil was sure he would have hated his brother if he ever had met him. But he never had, his brother had died many years before Thranduil was even born and he had not been blessed with a long life at all. He had died at the rather tender age of three hundred and forty one and in that short time he had apparently managed to do great deeds. At least that was what his father was constantly claiming. Thranduil knew better, his father had made a sort of saint out of Cunarin, remembered him as a flawless young ellon, one who would never disappoint him in any way. The truth was that Cunarin had been reckless, haughty and sometimes just mean and sly. He had stopped at nothing to get what he wanted and perhaps it was this trait of his that his father had admired the most. Thranduil learned from others how his brother died, in a fight in a human village, a fight he had started just to have some fun. Thranduil knew that his father never would be able to see the truth behind his firstborn son’s demise, in his eyes he had died like a hero, defending his friends against a horde of maddened mortals.
The king could remember that Oropher had been a different father before the second kin slaying, but when Thranduil’s mother was killed and the Silvan elves choose Oropher as their new leader he changed, and not for the better.
Thranduil sighed and lay down the book he was studying, ancient spells and incantations. He stared at the wall, there was a mirror there and he sighed when he saw his own reflection. He did look like an ellon with many sorrows and he was, in deed he was. He looked too much like his father, he could always see the ghost of Oropher when he stared at his own reflection. He heard his father’s voice, calm and cold, constantly claiming that he was nothing like his brother, that he was just a weakling and never would be as brave, good and useful as his brother had been.
Thranduil sighed and filled a chalice with wine from a decanter on top of his desk, he stared at the liquid and it looked a lot like blood. He had seen a lot of it, too much. Far too much. He remembered the day his father died, the battle had been horrible, he remembered his own fear and despair. He had fought well in the days prior to his father’s death but he never heard a single word from Oropher spoken to praise his skills and deeds. The few times his father had said something truly nice to him had been very few, he thought that he could count them on just one hand. There had always been something else there, hidden within his kind words when he spoke to his son in front of others. A hidden sarcasm, daggers cloaked in velvet. And it had hurt, like nothing else.
Thranduil knew one of the reasons why his father seemingly hated him, he looked too much like himself, in him his father saw a rival and whether it was conscious or not he tried to avoid developing too deep feelings towards him, in case he too was lost. Cunarin had looked so very much like their mother and perhaps that was the reason why Oropher had favored him in such a manner. Servants could tell him that his father had been almost as harsh against Cunarin as himself, it was after his death and the death of his wife that he turned the memory of his first son into something sacred, an ideal impossible to copy for anyone.
The moon was rising outside, he wondered if he should go for a walk before he went to bed, he felt the need for fresh air. He shuddered, he had had that dream again last night, the one dream he feared the most. He knew that his wife had known of it but she had never spoken of what she would have had to hear and see in the middle of the night and for that he was eternally grateful. She could have destroyed him had she chosen to speak of it to anyone. The dream was a memory, of the one time when he was really sure that his father hated him and wanted him dead. It was so very long ago and the memory should have faded but it never did. Whenever he relived it he felt like it happened yesterday and he would wake up bathed in sweat whimpering or screaming. It was a curse, a dark legacy of his father’s cold heart and calculating mind.
They had travelled and he did not remember why, but they had been on their way from the coast towards their new home in Greenwood. Oropher had been discussing something, probably the politics of the current situation and Thranduil had tried to listen and understand, he was having his own opinions but he was never allowed to mention them, his father’s power was to be absolute. Nothing or nobody should ever question it.
Somewhere along the way somebody had said something, what he could not remember but Oropher had become enraged and they had stopped for the night in the woods while the king of Greenwood tried to calm down. Then Thranduil had said something which had ticked his father off in a most terrible way, it had been something about Cunarin but the exact words had been lost to him. Oropher had struck him, hard. Then he had ordered his guards to grab a hold of him and they had dragged him into the woods where they tied him between two trees after his wrists. They had used rawhide strings and Thranduil had been terrified, his father was so filled with rage it made him glow and the young ellon had been begging for forgiveness fearing for his very life. Oropher had ordered the guards to whip him, forty lashes. He remembered his father’s hand on his chin, his cold blue eyes staring into his own almost identical ones. “If I hear just one sound from you they will start all over again, you hear me you damn weakling?”
He had not made any sounds, even when the pain was so great he thought it would claim his life, he was ready to die silently and he hoped that he would. He could not understand why his father hated him so. When the last lash fell he was hanging from his arms, unable to stand up, panting and close to passing out. The guards had started to untie him but Oropher had stopped them, they had been a bit shocked because the young ellon had been bleeding profusely and he was in real trouble. Oropher had just told them to let him hang there for some hours, to think about what he had said. Thranduil had never felt so alone, the forest was dark and the night freezing cold and before long he was shivering and feeling how the last strength he had was leaving him. It was then the real nightmare started, he had heard footsteps through the woods, it was three humans, men who probably were travelling through the area looking for work.
At first he was relieved, hoped that they could help him, at least keep him company until his father’s guards returned. They had appeared to be friendly enough, they had given him water to drink because he was so very thirsty and they had spoken gentle words of comfort. Then they had changed, their soothing touches became something else and he had gotten scared and confused and tried to break free but to no prevail. The rawhide ropes were just too strong and cut into his flesh, leaving bare bone and sinews. He was barely able to stand and he was completely unable to fight them, he was helpless. He remembered their words, how they had whispered them to him as they took advantage of his helplessness and weak body. “Why is it that you elves all are so fucking beautiful?”
He had tried to scream and they had gagged him, they had not cared about his injuries but continued their foul activity in spite of the blood and pain. When they left he was unconscious and broken, he wished that he would open his eyes in the halls of Mandos, Arda had nothing to offer him but pain and humiliation. A part of his fea had died and would never return, whatever innocence he had left within was forever lost and he was no longer the ellon he had been, He was a different creature now, one who knew what hatred felt like, and how it burned the soul until only cinders were left.
He woke up when the guards cut him loose, he was severely wounded but his father had not shown any empathy, in fact he had looked at his son with disgust. Thranduil had begged his father to kill him, Oropher had struck him once more. “You are just as filthy and weak as those humans, I bet you even liked it, to have a dirty human ram his cock up your arse”
Those words had been cutting into his heart like shards of ice, he had passed out and when he woke up he had been transformed somehow. He never again showed his father his true emotions and became as cold and distant as he was. He had become defiant and angry and he knew deep within that his father’s words were hollow and untrue, he was not weak, he was strong! He was stronger than most others, many would have succumbed to the horror of what those humans did but he had survived and he had healed physically if not mentally. His demeanor became as ice cold as his father’s and when his father spoke words filled with sarcasm and despise he would return the favor and that in style!
Oropher tried to strike him again some years later in a rather heated argument but Thranduil struck his father in return and was close to killing him. That was the first time Oropher looked at his son with respect in his gaze and Thranduil remembered the feeling he had gotten when he heard that his father had been slain. He had been in his tent when a messenger came with the grim news and he had felt relieved, almost free. He had immediately felt ashamed because of this but the feeling lingered still, somehow he felt guilty for being free, for being able to take his own decisions without having his father’s cold eyes resting upon him.
The nightmare returned rather often and he would never feel that helpless again, he had sworn that to himself years and years ago. Still he could never be free from who and what he had become and his father’s ghost was still so very present, within himself. He would never let that happen to Legolas, he had tried to love his own son as openly and with as much warmth and joy as he could muster up. Legolas should never have to suffer as he had, being deemed as a failure and unworthy of anything but harsh words and punishment.
He sighed and got up, left the study with a feeling of being a bit trapped in there, he could not get out fast enough. There were guards here and there throughout the palace and he did not want to disturb them so he used his magic to shield himself. He just needed fresh air and then he would try to rest. He walked towards the garden in the middle of the palace, there were no sounds there now, only the song of the nightbirds and he smiled and felt a lot better when the trees welcomed him as a long lost friend. Here he felt free and well and he sometimes wished that he had been a mere soldier and could visit the woods every day. He leaned towards his favorite tree and admired the stars and the moon, he closed his eyes and felt how his entire being relaxed. This was how life was supposed to be, it was such a shame that he normally never had time to do this. He listened to the birds when he heard that their song became somewhat weird, he raised an eyebrow and stared into the darkness. They sounded a bit angry? He walked forward, had someone else decided to visit the garden? It was not unheard of that some youngsters used the garden for a small rendezvous with their lovers and he grinned and thought that he perhaps could give some young elflings a small lesson.
He stopped behind a tree and took peek towards the pond, he froze. A rather tall cloaked figure stood there, staring at the water. The moonlight bathed the creature in pale cold light and he had no idea of who this was. Who would cover themselves like this? Was this someone with dark intentions? He crouched down, stared at the figure with narrow eyes, he had no weapons and the closest guards were at the entrance to the garden. They would need some minutes to get there if they heard someone. He saw that the cloak was heavy and thick and dark, who would wear something like that? He was about to get up and make his presence known to whoever it was when the figure just dropped the heavy cloak and Thranduil felt how his breath just stopped for a few seconds, he just stared. He could not move, could not blink or even think. It was impossible, he was staring at something which should not be. He was seeing a ghost, an apparition.
His eyes were watering, he felt a need to fall to his knees, why had he been deemed worthy to see this? He had never seen anything this beautiful, this breathtaking. She could not be real, it was a vision of something so pure and exquisite it had to be one of the Valar themselves, or perhaps a maia. Was this a goddess? He just stared at her as she waded into the water, her milk white skin glowed in the starlight and her hair, just as white as newly fallen snow fell down and had to be even longer than she was. It looked like a river of ice behind her and he felt how tears ran down his cheeks. He suddenly saw absolute perfection and nobody, not even the immortal are capable of handling such a sight without becoming emotional.
She washed herself slowly and he was so taken by the unearthly beauty he almost forgot to draw breath. He could just stare, afraid to close his eyes and discover that the vision was gone. He felt a deep need to pray but he could not find any words, his mind was utterly blank. She got up from the water and he wanted to shake his head, to make her stay there. She put the robe back on, became a black shadow once more and he mouthed the words but no sound came forth. “No, don’t leave, stay, I beg you.”
She was suddenly gone, swallowed by the darkness underneath the trees. He got on his feet, staring at the place where she had stood like a child desperately searching for its mother. “Oh no, come back, I…I need you, whoever you are. Goddess of light, please return to me. Don’t leave me in the darkness!”
She was gone and he felt how a strange sensation of unbearable loss grasped his soul, he had never felt anything like it. How could he continue to draw breath after having seen something like this? He was not worthy of such a vision, he was tainted and twisted and dark and this creature of light had still appeared within his palace? It had to mean something but what? He walked back to his private rooms with a feeling that he somehow would find out soon. When he closed his eyes he still saw her, that tall white figure standing by the pool, bathed in the cold light of the moon, a creature of pure light, devoid of color. It could not have been real, and yet he was sure that it had. His heart ached for answers as he slowly drifted off into sleep, a new hunger had awakened within him and energy started to flow within him once more, re kindled his fea and made him stronger. He had to find the answers to this, he just had to, or else he would never find peace anywhere, not even beyond the white shores of Aman.
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Hearts of fire, souls of ice