Lullaby
folder
-Multi-Age › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
8
Views:
2,779
Reviews:
6
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
-Multi-Age › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
8
Views:
2,779
Reviews:
6
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.
Lullaby
`Title: Lullaby (Prologue/?)
Author: Bird
Series: Half-Breeds
Characters: Thranduil, OFCs, OMCs, Galion, and other various canon elves.
Time-Line: End of Second age -- Last Alliance
Summary: Thranduil returns from the War of the Last Alliance
----
O for a voice like thunder, and a tongue
To drown the throat of war! - when the senses
Are shaken, and the soul is driven to madness
Who can stand? When the souls of the oppressed
Fight in the troubled air that rages, who can stand?
(William Blake)
-----
A cool breeze danced with the gossamer curtains dividing the balcony from the rest of the chamber, pale green material that sparkled with gold and silver embroidery along the edges. The playful air danced about the room, rustling papers on the oak desk. The bed and its posts in the center of the room plainly carved from the stone itself. The curtains of the bed were darker in shade, but no less transparent than the ones hanging across the balcony, and the breeze fluttered them about like a kitten at play.
A foot protruded through the curtains, dangling somewhat off the bed, bare and pale. The air tickled the foot with the curtains. The foot wiggled and its owner moaned, drawing it back inside curtains. Waiting a moment, the breeze stilled as the foot parted the curtains just a bit, and it slipped inside as the foot did. The air hovered over the sleeping form, pondering its course, and then settled, spreading its cool in a thin layer over the elleth. A few tendrils tickled at her ears, whispering its wicked message. With invisible fingers, it lifted a few strands of her golden hair and laid them back down as it caressed over her bare skin.
The elleth batted at her hair as it tickled her nose, murmuring in her sleep, her features reflecting the emotions of her dream, her lips moving as she talked to those in her head. The breeze lingered, listening to her murmured words; she spoke of tenderness and love.
She lay with her head on her hands, elbows bent and face down on her stomach, completely nude.
Amrun, the wife of Oropher--the appointed ruler of the Sylvans of Greenwood, slept peacefully, dreaming of her husband, of his arms around her, his lips upon her. She dreamt of their son and the centuries of their lives. Of their lives since coming to the green wood.
Their bed surrounded her, stone-carven beech trees, the posts, as guards to protect her, their leaves creating a canopy across the ceiling above the bed. Simply it was an altar to their marriage in the middle of the room, with a short set of steps leading up to all sides. The green curtains swayed, the silver and gold embroidery of trees and vines, and other plants, sparkling in the light filtering in from the balcony.
In her sleep, Amrun began to hum a simple tune, the words noiselessly forming on her lips, and the breeze listened. It was a lullaby, something a young mother might rock her infant to as she cradled him to her breast and suckled him. Something that the wife of a soldier would sing.
“Do not weep, my babe, for this war,
Your adar has not gone far,
He shall return when the glow
Of the pyres have burned low.”
Something that was filled with hope, and the breeze shuddered, knowing what it must do. Whirling up and fluttering the curtains frantically, it took a deep breath and cooled, settling about her and chilling her.
Shivering, Amrun jerked in her sleep, her blue eyes blinking as she slowly woke. Not fully awake, Amrun moaned, and the breeze whispered into her ear, caressing her with its wispy tongue. She batted sleepily at the tickling, yawning as she finally sat up and stretched. Blinking she shuddered and wrapped her arms around her shoulders, noticing how cool the room had become. She pulled the blanket up about her shoulders and stood up from the bed, pushing the curtains out of the way. Walking down the steps, her blanket trailing after her, Amrun approached the balcony.
She parted the curtains with one hand, the other clutching the blanket about her though it fell some from her shoulders. A breeze blew her hair gently, but it was chilling. Staring out into the hazy light of dawn, gray from the cloudy weather, Amrun’s eyes grew wide. A cold stab of understanding pierced her heart, the message of the breeze becoming clear.
Unlike the lullaby, her soldier, her husband would not return. A single tear escaped from the corner of her eye, down along her nose to fall and disappear into her blanket.
Author: Bird
Series: Half-Breeds
Characters: Thranduil, OFCs, OMCs, Galion, and other various canon elves.
Time-Line: End of Second age -- Last Alliance
Summary: Thranduil returns from the War of the Last Alliance
----
O for a voice like thunder, and a tongue
To drown the throat of war! - when the senses
Are shaken, and the soul is driven to madness
Who can stand? When the souls of the oppressed
Fight in the troubled air that rages, who can stand?
(William Blake)
-----
A cool breeze danced with the gossamer curtains dividing the balcony from the rest of the chamber, pale green material that sparkled with gold and silver embroidery along the edges. The playful air danced about the room, rustling papers on the oak desk. The bed and its posts in the center of the room plainly carved from the stone itself. The curtains of the bed were darker in shade, but no less transparent than the ones hanging across the balcony, and the breeze fluttered them about like a kitten at play.
A foot protruded through the curtains, dangling somewhat off the bed, bare and pale. The air tickled the foot with the curtains. The foot wiggled and its owner moaned, drawing it back inside curtains. Waiting a moment, the breeze stilled as the foot parted the curtains just a bit, and it slipped inside as the foot did. The air hovered over the sleeping form, pondering its course, and then settled, spreading its cool in a thin layer over the elleth. A few tendrils tickled at her ears, whispering its wicked message. With invisible fingers, it lifted a few strands of her golden hair and laid them back down as it caressed over her bare skin.
The elleth batted at her hair as it tickled her nose, murmuring in her sleep, her features reflecting the emotions of her dream, her lips moving as she talked to those in her head. The breeze lingered, listening to her murmured words; she spoke of tenderness and love.
She lay with her head on her hands, elbows bent and face down on her stomach, completely nude.
Amrun, the wife of Oropher--the appointed ruler of the Sylvans of Greenwood, slept peacefully, dreaming of her husband, of his arms around her, his lips upon her. She dreamt of their son and the centuries of their lives. Of their lives since coming to the green wood.
Their bed surrounded her, stone-carven beech trees, the posts, as guards to protect her, their leaves creating a canopy across the ceiling above the bed. Simply it was an altar to their marriage in the middle of the room, with a short set of steps leading up to all sides. The green curtains swayed, the silver and gold embroidery of trees and vines, and other plants, sparkling in the light filtering in from the balcony.
In her sleep, Amrun began to hum a simple tune, the words noiselessly forming on her lips, and the breeze listened. It was a lullaby, something a young mother might rock her infant to as she cradled him to her breast and suckled him. Something that the wife of a soldier would sing.
“Do not weep, my babe, for this war,
Your adar has not gone far,
He shall return when the glow
Of the pyres have burned low.”
Something that was filled with hope, and the breeze shuddered, knowing what it must do. Whirling up and fluttering the curtains frantically, it took a deep breath and cooled, settling about her and chilling her.
Shivering, Amrun jerked in her sleep, her blue eyes blinking as she slowly woke. Not fully awake, Amrun moaned, and the breeze whispered into her ear, caressing her with its wispy tongue. She batted sleepily at the tickling, yawning as she finally sat up and stretched. Blinking she shuddered and wrapped her arms around her shoulders, noticing how cool the room had become. She pulled the blanket up about her shoulders and stood up from the bed, pushing the curtains out of the way. Walking down the steps, her blanket trailing after her, Amrun approached the balcony.
She parted the curtains with one hand, the other clutching the blanket about her though it fell some from her shoulders. A breeze blew her hair gently, but it was chilling. Staring out into the hazy light of dawn, gray from the cloudy weather, Amrun’s eyes grew wide. A cold stab of understanding pierced her heart, the message of the breeze becoming clear.
Unlike the lullaby, her soldier, her husband would not return. A single tear escaped from the corner of her eye, down along her nose to fall and disappear into her blanket.