The Price of Pride
folder
-Multi-Age › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
61
Views:
1,844
Reviews:
53
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
-Multi-Age › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
61
Views:
1,844
Reviews:
53
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
The Price of Pride
Title: The Price of Pride (0-1/?)
Author: Ariel Tachna
Author’s e-mail: arieltachna@yahoo.com
Type: Romance/Angst
Pairings: Arwen/Legolas, (Aragorn/Legolas, Arwen/Aragorn in later chapters)
Rating: NC-17 in later chapters
Warning: None
Beta: Donna (Thank you so much!)
Disclaimer: I didn’t make them up. Tolkien did. I just play with them. Seriously, all characters are the property of the Tolkien estate and/or New Line studios. No profit is being made from this fic.
Feedback: Yes, please! I live for feedback
Archiving: OEAM, galadhrim.net, any others, just ask
Summary: 200 years after his arrival in Valinor, Legolas thinks back to those he loved and lost, and wonders if he could have done things differently.
Author’s Notes: Thanks to Maggie Honeybite who generously gave me permission to use the silver and gold ribbons from her story “Sweetness and Gall” in my story. Maggie’s stories can be found at http://www.ithilas.com/maggie/maggie.html Thanks also to Ezra’s Persian Kitty for providing me information about the meanings of various flowe The The conversation between Erestor and Glorfindel in Chapter 4 makes reference to her story “The Art of Miscommunication” which can be found at www.libraryofmoria.com or at www.fanfiction.net
Elvish translations
Caun-neth – young prince
Hîr nín – my Lord
Prologue
I walk the shores of Valinor, alone with my memories and my grief. Though it is a struggle here, I keep track of the days, marking, not the passage of time, but the anniversaries of the days that mattered most. The first time I saw Arwen. The day I met Aragorn. Seeing them meet in Rivendell, though they saw me not. The day the Fellowship set out on its quest. The day the One Ring was destroyed. The day Aragorn was crowned King. The day he made Arwen his Queen. The deaths of Merry and Pippin. The death of Gimli.
Most of my thoughts center on Arwen. Her fate is the only one I could have changed. In later years, it was often said that all who looked upon Arwen Undomiel, Evenstar of her people, Queen of Gondor, fell immediately under her spell, so great was her grace and beauty. Only Gimli, son of Gloin, with his great love and admiration for Galadriel had been immune to Arwen’s spell. I took great pains to remind her that I had also resisted. Of course, she’d been a babe-in-arms when I first met her, which accounted for my indifference at the time. The Valar know I fell under her spell quickly enough later, a spell that has haunted me these 3000 years.
Chapter 1
I remember that first meeting like it was yesterday. I arrived in Imladris on the eve of my 500th birthday, expecting to be received there as I had been received in Lothlorien and as my father received visiting dignitaries at his court. Not that I considered myself a dignitary, but I was the son of a King and had grown used to a certain amount of fanfare. What I found, instead, was chaos. Elves had seen to my horse ao tho those of my party, but nowhere did I see Lord Elrond or any of his aides. I wandered toward the Hall of Fire where I found the twins, Elladan and Elrohir, Elrond’s sons, sitting in the shadows. I called a greeting, to which they absently replied. I was surprised. We were friends of old, the twins and I, from their time in the Mirkwood and the time all three of us had spent in Lothlorien.
“What is going on?” I asked, beginning to worry about my friends.
“Amme is in labor” Elladan began.
“It is not going well,” Elrohir continued, finishing his brother’s thought. “Ada is with her, but…”
Just then, a shout rang out from the hallway. I watched the brothers jump up and run toward their parents’ rooms. I trailed behind them, feeling out of place. We arrived at the door just as Elrond opened it and came out. “Amme?” the twins cried in unison.
“She will be fine,” Elrond said, weariness obvious in his voice.
“And the babe?” Elrohir asked, afraid to hear the answer.
“She, too, will be fine.”
“That is good news, indeed,” I interjected, speaking for the first time. I didn’t really want to interrupt, but I felt that I needed to make my presence known.
Elrond looked beyond his sons, seeing for the first time that I stood in the hallway. “Forgive me, caun-neth. I was not there to greet you properly.”
I gave a slight bow. “There is nothing to forgive, Hîr nín. Under the circumstances, I can hardly complain.”
“When can we see her?” Elladan interjected, impatient with the formalities. His only concern was his mother and sister.
“Your naneth needs time to rest and recover, but if you will be patient a few minutes longer, I will let you see your sister.
“Legolas let me…” Elrond continued, turning toward me.
“No, Hîr nín,” I interrupted. “See to your family. We have traveled leisurely from Lorien. You need not worry for me. In fact, I should like to see the babe as well, if you would permit it.”
“Of course,” Elrond replied. He disappeared into the bedroom. We could hear his voice from the hallway as he murmured to his wife, then the sound of a baby fussing. The cries were calmed quickly and Elrond reappeared at the door, a tiny bundle cradled gently in his arms. Elladan and Elrohir rushed to their father’s side, peering down at the tiny child. “What will we call her, Ada?” they asked, almost in unison.
“Arwen,” Elrond replied. “Arwen Undomiel, for she shall be the Evenstar of her people.” Elrond’s voice changed as he spoke, taking on the distant tone of one who was caught by the Foresight.
“Ada?” Elrohir said softly, fear in his voice. “What do you mean, Ada?”
Elrond blinked a few times, clearing away the vision, forcing his eyes back to his sons’ worried faces. “We must take very good care of your sister, my sons,” Elrond said, smiling gently. “She will have a very important role to play when next we face the Shadow.”
“We will teach her, Ada. She will be the best warrior in Imladris,” Elladan exclaimed.
“She will be ready, Ada. She will defeat the Shadow,” Elrohir chimed in.
Elrond shook his head indulgently. “Teach her, my sons, for she should certainly be able to protect herself against what comes, but remember, too, that there are more ways than one to aid in any quest. Do not tell her what I have told you, any of you,” he instructed, his gaze sweeping to include me. I had begun to feel very uncomfortable with this family scene, but could not see a way to extract myself now. “She must fulfill her fate in her own way, prepared by what we can teach her, but open to every path. Even the very wisest cannot see all ends. Now, Legolas, would you like to see my daughter?”
“Please, Hîr nín,” I replied. “I am not sure I have ever seen one so young. My father claims I was the last one born in the Greenwood, and none were born in Lorien while I was there. I saw elflings there, but they were all older than this.” I moved closer to Elrond, examining the sleeping child’s face, searching for some sign of the greatness Elrond foresaw. All I saw was a wrinkled, red face, eyes closed, lips pursed. I said all the right things, gave all the appropriate compliments, but in my heart of hearts, I wondered what was so special about this child.
I stayed in Imladris for fifty years, learning what I could from Elrond, as my father had decreed. I watched Arwen grow in those years, watched her brothers teach her to defend herself, watched her father teach her wisdom and healing. I watched her, but I never truly saw her. All I saw was the babe she had been, with the wrinkled red face. Then, my duties to my father recalled me to Mirkwood, and I did not see her again for almost a century.
Author: Ariel Tachna
Author’s e-mail: arieltachna@yahoo.com
Type: Romance/Angst
Pairings: Arwen/Legolas, (Aragorn/Legolas, Arwen/Aragorn in later chapters)
Rating: NC-17 in later chapters
Warning: None
Beta: Donna (Thank you so much!)
Disclaimer: I didn’t make them up. Tolkien did. I just play with them. Seriously, all characters are the property of the Tolkien estate and/or New Line studios. No profit is being made from this fic.
Feedback: Yes, please! I live for feedback
Archiving: OEAM, galadhrim.net, any others, just ask
Summary: 200 years after his arrival in Valinor, Legolas thinks back to those he loved and lost, and wonders if he could have done things differently.
Author’s Notes: Thanks to Maggie Honeybite who generously gave me permission to use the silver and gold ribbons from her story “Sweetness and Gall” in my story. Maggie’s stories can be found at http://www.ithilas.com/maggie/maggie.html Thanks also to Ezra’s Persian Kitty for providing me information about the meanings of various flowe The The conversation between Erestor and Glorfindel in Chapter 4 makes reference to her story “The Art of Miscommunication” which can be found at www.libraryofmoria.com or at www.fanfiction.net
Elvish translations
Caun-neth – young prince
Hîr nín – my Lord
Prologue
I walk the shores of Valinor, alone with my memories and my grief. Though it is a struggle here, I keep track of the days, marking, not the passage of time, but the anniversaries of the days that mattered most. The first time I saw Arwen. The day I met Aragorn. Seeing them meet in Rivendell, though they saw me not. The day the Fellowship set out on its quest. The day the One Ring was destroyed. The day Aragorn was crowned King. The day he made Arwen his Queen. The deaths of Merry and Pippin. The death of Gimli.
Most of my thoughts center on Arwen. Her fate is the only one I could have changed. In later years, it was often said that all who looked upon Arwen Undomiel, Evenstar of her people, Queen of Gondor, fell immediately under her spell, so great was her grace and beauty. Only Gimli, son of Gloin, with his great love and admiration for Galadriel had been immune to Arwen’s spell. I took great pains to remind her that I had also resisted. Of course, she’d been a babe-in-arms when I first met her, which accounted for my indifference at the time. The Valar know I fell under her spell quickly enough later, a spell that has haunted me these 3000 years.
Chapter 1
I remember that first meeting like it was yesterday. I arrived in Imladris on the eve of my 500th birthday, expecting to be received there as I had been received in Lothlorien and as my father received visiting dignitaries at his court. Not that I considered myself a dignitary, but I was the son of a King and had grown used to a certain amount of fanfare. What I found, instead, was chaos. Elves had seen to my horse ao tho those of my party, but nowhere did I see Lord Elrond or any of his aides. I wandered toward the Hall of Fire where I found the twins, Elladan and Elrohir, Elrond’s sons, sitting in the shadows. I called a greeting, to which they absently replied. I was surprised. We were friends of old, the twins and I, from their time in the Mirkwood and the time all three of us had spent in Lothlorien.
“What is going on?” I asked, beginning to worry about my friends.
“Amme is in labor” Elladan began.
“It is not going well,” Elrohir continued, finishing his brother’s thought. “Ada is with her, but…”
Just then, a shout rang out from the hallway. I watched the brothers jump up and run toward their parents’ rooms. I trailed behind them, feeling out of place. We arrived at the door just as Elrond opened it and came out. “Amme?” the twins cried in unison.
“She will be fine,” Elrond said, weariness obvious in his voice.
“And the babe?” Elrohir asked, afraid to hear the answer.
“She, too, will be fine.”
“That is good news, indeed,” I interjected, speaking for the first time. I didn’t really want to interrupt, but I felt that I needed to make my presence known.
Elrond looked beyond his sons, seeing for the first time that I stood in the hallway. “Forgive me, caun-neth. I was not there to greet you properly.”
I gave a slight bow. “There is nothing to forgive, Hîr nín. Under the circumstances, I can hardly complain.”
“When can we see her?” Elladan interjected, impatient with the formalities. His only concern was his mother and sister.
“Your naneth needs time to rest and recover, but if you will be patient a few minutes longer, I will let you see your sister.
“Legolas let me…” Elrond continued, turning toward me.
“No, Hîr nín,” I interrupted. “See to your family. We have traveled leisurely from Lorien. You need not worry for me. In fact, I should like to see the babe as well, if you would permit it.”
“Of course,” Elrond replied. He disappeared into the bedroom. We could hear his voice from the hallway as he murmured to his wife, then the sound of a baby fussing. The cries were calmed quickly and Elrond reappeared at the door, a tiny bundle cradled gently in his arms. Elladan and Elrohir rushed to their father’s side, peering down at the tiny child. “What will we call her, Ada?” they asked, almost in unison.
“Arwen,” Elrond replied. “Arwen Undomiel, for she shall be the Evenstar of her people.” Elrond’s voice changed as he spoke, taking on the distant tone of one who was caught by the Foresight.
“Ada?” Elrohir said softly, fear in his voice. “What do you mean, Ada?”
Elrond blinked a few times, clearing away the vision, forcing his eyes back to his sons’ worried faces. “We must take very good care of your sister, my sons,” Elrond said, smiling gently. “She will have a very important role to play when next we face the Shadow.”
“We will teach her, Ada. She will be the best warrior in Imladris,” Elladan exclaimed.
“She will be ready, Ada. She will defeat the Shadow,” Elrohir chimed in.
Elrond shook his head indulgently. “Teach her, my sons, for she should certainly be able to protect herself against what comes, but remember, too, that there are more ways than one to aid in any quest. Do not tell her what I have told you, any of you,” he instructed, his gaze sweeping to include me. I had begun to feel very uncomfortable with this family scene, but could not see a way to extract myself now. “She must fulfill her fate in her own way, prepared by what we can teach her, but open to every path. Even the very wisest cannot see all ends. Now, Legolas, would you like to see my daughter?”
“Please, Hîr nín,” I replied. “I am not sure I have ever seen one so young. My father claims I was the last one born in the Greenwood, and none were born in Lorien while I was there. I saw elflings there, but they were all older than this.” I moved closer to Elrond, examining the sleeping child’s face, searching for some sign of the greatness Elrond foresaw. All I saw was a wrinkled, red face, eyes closed, lips pursed. I said all the right things, gave all the appropriate compliments, but in my heart of hearts, I wondered what was so special about this child.
I stayed in Imladris for fifty years, learning what I could from Elrond, as my father had decreed. I watched Arwen grow in those years, watched her brothers teach her to defend herself, watched her father teach her wisdom and healing. I watched her, but I never truly saw her. All I saw was the babe she had been, with the wrinkled red face. Then, my duties to my father recalled me to Mirkwood, and I did not see her again for almost a century.