Fic: A Sky For The Seeing
Jan. 28th, 2014 06:54 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
grav_ityMeta and Prologue
Chapter 1 - A Blade For The Rending
Chapter 2 - A Heart For The Beating
Chapter 3 - A Desert For The Weathering
Epilogue – Eyes For The Seeing
He came to see her before he left. She had heard about his volunteering, of course. It was a secret council, but Elrond’s house was full of those he trusted, and from Glorfindel to the scullions, they all knew his business.
“My Prince, I wish you as safe a journey as you might have,” she said.
She did not know the details of the route, but there were only so many roads, and the ones she had passed on her journey here felt foul underneath her feet.
“That is not all you wish,” he said. He sat, and there was her Prince again, the one for whom she had been so proud to protect the Wood.
“No, Legolas, it is not.”
“Then tell me,” he said. “For I have spent these years at tasks beneath the trees, and you have seen other skies.”
She told him of the Southrons, then, the ones she had come to know. Some had been kind, even when they saw her pale skin. She had not ever let them see her pointed ears. They had thought her a strange Northern woman, and given her no more consideration.
“But that changed,” she said. The sun was setting on the eternal autumn of Rivendell, but it did not grow cold. Tauriel did not wonder why.
“How so?” he asked.
“They whispered of the evils in the North,” she told him. “Of stolen lands and stolen birthrights. Old lies, but the strongest ones. They did not like my pale face, then.”
“I am glad you were safely returned,” he said. “How came you here?”
“I had a message from Sigrid, daughter of Bard.”
“I remember her.” He nearly smiled. “And her sturdy house.”
“In any case, she told me of the dark visitor to Erebor, and bid me to return. I think she meant me to come to the Mountain and give council there, but I knew that you would be here at your father’s bidding, and I thought...”
She didn’t say it, but he understood.
“I have not become so cold as to ignore hope,” he said. “For hope has come, even under the boughs of Mirkwood. I have seen it there.”
“I am glad,” she said. “I would ask one more thing of you, my Prince.”
“Am I still?” he asked. “Or did you leave your Prince at Erebor?”
“Have you lessened your loyalty to you father by pledging your help the Halfling?” she fired back. He held up his hands in defeat.
“The dwarf,” she said. “The red-haired one, with the simplest braids in his beard.”
“I will not soon forget him,” Legolas said. “He is brave, if somewhat foolhardy.”
“He is their cousin, my Prince,” Tauriel said. “He did not march with them because it was decided that some of the line should stay out of the quest, but that line is strong now, and he will march instead with you.”
“I had not thought of such connection,” Legolas admitted. “What would you have me do?”
“His hatred of elves is new. It is learned, not experienced like his father’s is. He has never been our prisoner. We have never left him to starve.”
Legolas shifted in his seat, as discomfited as an elf-prince might be.
“Legolas, do not shut him out,” Tauriel said. “I do not expect you to soften your heart completely, not as I did anyway, but listen to him. His cousins would have welcomed peace between our peoples in time. I saw it in them. Let us see if he will do the same.”
Legolas said nothing for a long time. The stars came out, bright points against the clear black sky. It was dark, yes, but the kind sort of darkness. Where the hearth burned bright and friends were close at hand. There was singing in the valley, bright voices that were not elves and did not sing of elvish woes.
“For these words, you crossed Middle Earth?” Legolas said at length.
“For peace, I would cross the bent sea,” she replied.
“It shall be as you say,” he said. “I will keep my heart open. I think, with the Halflings, that will be inevitable anyway.”
They laughed, and it was not the same as it had once been, but it was still good.
“My Captain, I have a task for you,” Legolas said, standing to leave.
“As you bid, my Prince.”
“You will go next to Dale, I believe?” he said.
“Yes,” she replied. “I would see Sigrid one last time, and help her nephew and Dain prepare themselves for what is to come.”
“Consider, please, returning to my father for the final battle,” Legolas said. “I do not know where he will make his stand, but my heart will be easier if you are with him.”
“He will not welcome me back,” Tauriel said. “Unless he is more changed than you seem to be.”
“I have sent him a message,” Legolas said. “And my other Captains will vouch for you. It will not be as it was, I know, but I would still have you stand with him, as I cannot do.”
She saw then, that the weight of the quest was already upon him. He had volunteered with his whole heart, and did not regret it, but in his mind, he saw how the coming fight would reach to all corners of Middle Earth. He would be far from home when the Enemy attacked, and he might never see it again.
She bowed her head.
“It will be as you say, my Prince,” she said.
He clasped her hand, holding tightly to her for a moment before letting go.
“My friend,” he said. “May we meet again, when there is peace.”
“When there is peace, Legolas,” she said. The Hobbits’ voices filled the air, but she could still hear the music of autumn stars, looking down on Rivendell from afar. Her heart swelled with memories of the Greenwood, and how she longed to see it restored. She had not shed blood often since the Battle of the Five Armies, and now that she had reason to shed it again, she was heartened by the promise of what this fight would restore. “When there is peace.”
And in the Great Years, when darkness was at its greatest strength, and The Enemy drew his form about him, two wood-elves met at Imladris and healed their friendship there. And though their paths did soon separate again, each held a part of the heart of the other. And though their parting did wound them, their hearts were stronger for it, and open to chance that might not have otherwise been. And in Ithilien did that chance bear fruit, where the races of Men, Elves and Dwarves dwell together.
- - The Latter Days of the House of Éorl (translation)
+++
finis
Gravity_Not_Included, January 26, 2014
Chapter 1 - A Blade For The Rending
Chapter 2 - A Heart For The Beating
Chapter 3 - A Desert For The Weathering
Epilogue – Eyes For The Seeing
He came to see her before he left. She had heard about his volunteering, of course. It was a secret council, but Elrond’s house was full of those he trusted, and from Glorfindel to the scullions, they all knew his business.
“My Prince, I wish you as safe a journey as you might have,” she said.
She did not know the details of the route, but there were only so many roads, and the ones she had passed on her journey here felt foul underneath her feet.
“That is not all you wish,” he said. He sat, and there was her Prince again, the one for whom she had been so proud to protect the Wood.
“No, Legolas, it is not.”
“Then tell me,” he said. “For I have spent these years at tasks beneath the trees, and you have seen other skies.”
She told him of the Southrons, then, the ones she had come to know. Some had been kind, even when they saw her pale skin. She had not ever let them see her pointed ears. They had thought her a strange Northern woman, and given her no more consideration.
“But that changed,” she said. The sun was setting on the eternal autumn of Rivendell, but it did not grow cold. Tauriel did not wonder why.
“How so?” he asked.
“They whispered of the evils in the North,” she told him. “Of stolen lands and stolen birthrights. Old lies, but the strongest ones. They did not like my pale face, then.”
“I am glad you were safely returned,” he said. “How came you here?”
“I had a message from Sigrid, daughter of Bard.”
“I remember her.” He nearly smiled. “And her sturdy house.”
“In any case, she told me of the dark visitor to Erebor, and bid me to return. I think she meant me to come to the Mountain and give council there, but I knew that you would be here at your father’s bidding, and I thought...”
She didn’t say it, but he understood.
“I have not become so cold as to ignore hope,” he said. “For hope has come, even under the boughs of Mirkwood. I have seen it there.”
“I am glad,” she said. “I would ask one more thing of you, my Prince.”
“Am I still?” he asked. “Or did you leave your Prince at Erebor?”
“Have you lessened your loyalty to you father by pledging your help the Halfling?” she fired back. He held up his hands in defeat.
“The dwarf,” she said. “The red-haired one, with the simplest braids in his beard.”
“I will not soon forget him,” Legolas said. “He is brave, if somewhat foolhardy.”
“He is their cousin, my Prince,” Tauriel said. “He did not march with them because it was decided that some of the line should stay out of the quest, but that line is strong now, and he will march instead with you.”
“I had not thought of such connection,” Legolas admitted. “What would you have me do?”
“His hatred of elves is new. It is learned, not experienced like his father’s is. He has never been our prisoner. We have never left him to starve.”
Legolas shifted in his seat, as discomfited as an elf-prince might be.
“Legolas, do not shut him out,” Tauriel said. “I do not expect you to soften your heart completely, not as I did anyway, but listen to him. His cousins would have welcomed peace between our peoples in time. I saw it in them. Let us see if he will do the same.”
Legolas said nothing for a long time. The stars came out, bright points against the clear black sky. It was dark, yes, but the kind sort of darkness. Where the hearth burned bright and friends were close at hand. There was singing in the valley, bright voices that were not elves and did not sing of elvish woes.
“For these words, you crossed Middle Earth?” Legolas said at length.
“For peace, I would cross the bent sea,” she replied.
“It shall be as you say,” he said. “I will keep my heart open. I think, with the Halflings, that will be inevitable anyway.”
They laughed, and it was not the same as it had once been, but it was still good.
“My Captain, I have a task for you,” Legolas said, standing to leave.
“As you bid, my Prince.”
“You will go next to Dale, I believe?” he said.
“Yes,” she replied. “I would see Sigrid one last time, and help her nephew and Dain prepare themselves for what is to come.”
“Consider, please, returning to my father for the final battle,” Legolas said. “I do not know where he will make his stand, but my heart will be easier if you are with him.”
“He will not welcome me back,” Tauriel said. “Unless he is more changed than you seem to be.”
“I have sent him a message,” Legolas said. “And my other Captains will vouch for you. It will not be as it was, I know, but I would still have you stand with him, as I cannot do.”
She saw then, that the weight of the quest was already upon him. He had volunteered with his whole heart, and did not regret it, but in his mind, he saw how the coming fight would reach to all corners of Middle Earth. He would be far from home when the Enemy attacked, and he might never see it again.
She bowed her head.
“It will be as you say, my Prince,” she said.
He clasped her hand, holding tightly to her for a moment before letting go.
“My friend,” he said. “May we meet again, when there is peace.”
“When there is peace, Legolas,” she said. The Hobbits’ voices filled the air, but she could still hear the music of autumn stars, looking down on Rivendell from afar. Her heart swelled with memories of the Greenwood, and how she longed to see it restored. She had not shed blood often since the Battle of the Five Armies, and now that she had reason to shed it again, she was heartened by the promise of what this fight would restore. “When there is peace.”
And in the Great Years, when darkness was at its greatest strength, and The Enemy drew his form about him, two wood-elves met at Imladris and healed their friendship there. And though their paths did soon separate again, each held a part of the heart of the other. And though their parting did wound them, their hearts were stronger for it, and open to chance that might not have otherwise been. And in Ithilien did that chance bear fruit, where the races of Men, Elves and Dwarves dwell together.
- - The Latter Days of the House of Éorl (translation)
+++
finis
Gravity_Not_Included, January 26, 2014
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2014-01-29 01:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-01-30 10:07 pm (UTC)And I think there might be a part III? Because she still hasn't done what I wrote this thing to have her do in the first place.
no subject
Date: 2014-01-29 02:07 am (UTC)“For peace, I would cross the bent sea,” she replied.
“It shall be as you say,” he said. “I will keep my heart open. I think, with the Halflings, that will be inevitable anyway.”
I love how there can be lightness and banter in even the most serious of conversations. There's a great deal of wisdom in your writing, my friend. Well done.
no subject
Date: 2014-01-30 10:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-01-29 03:52 am (UTC)(also legion of red-heads unite)
*cries a lot*
no subject
Date: 2014-01-30 10:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-01-31 03:30 pm (UTC)I liked this story and how it turned for her.
no subject
Date: 2014-02-01 12:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-02-02 10:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-02-04 12:58 am (UTC)