Through the Window

Chapter Two: The first and the second elf

The faerie king lord Donnaghue walked slowly from the river bank as the cries of the girl faded from his ears. However, he was not fully pleased. The girl had not known what wrong she had done... and she was so very lovely. The faerie could not keep himself from sighing in some form of rueful sorrow, for he would have greatly preferred to have taken her as his slave... but she had disgraced the name of the faerie dance and called it clumsy, she had witnessed a sight to fair for the eyes of a human, a sight that should only be kept within the eyes of the immortals.
The faerie king sighed once more and halted in his steps, looking slowly over his shoulder. He could not see the girl now, even with his faerie eyes. She had drowned. But lo! Nay, for she had not drowned! She was in Arda now, surely, and so there she would not be dead! Perhaps still he could have her, to do his every bidding, no matter what it be. Donnaghue smile faintly and threw his crown to the ground where it shattered into a thousand silver pieces. With a swift turn he went once more to the river bank and waded into the waters, his faerie robes drifting about him and his ebony hair sailing over the water.

He looked to his people as they danced far from him. Faeries are an irrational folk and they are apt to do whatever it is they will, no matter what will come of it. Donnaghue left now his crown shattered upon the grass and his rule to which ever faerie claimed it and lived to fight for it. He smiled. The girl would soon be his. With a quick and silent movement, the faerie leapt into the depths with nary a splash of water to be heard.
Donnaghue looked about him beneath the waves. From before him he saw some strange light burning with an emerald fire and he knew the river spirits were attempting to claim some body of some poor, forsaken soul.
The faerie lunged forth as he saw the form of Niamh being pulled by the river. They bashed her against rocks and the fallen boughs of trees as if they sought to slay her and she fought them, though it was in vain.
Donnaghue raced forth beneath the water and charged upon the river spirits and they flung Niamh from their grasp, her body flying into some great pit there, surrounded by standing stones that had sacred powers, though were forsaken in older days. There was where Niamh was claimed forever, never to return to her home... here is where the river claimed her presence.

The faerie lord lay at bay the river spirits and followed Niamh as she was pulled by some strange current into the standing stone pit. He, too, was soon lost there. The river spirits knew where they went. “Arda.” They sighed in their watery tones as they lay to rest once more, seeing the soul of a mortal an unimportant thing to lose.

Donnaghue was pulled into the pit by the currents of the river and then by some current that he sensed was not of the river, a current that was of magic, pulling aught who strayed into it to some other realm where this world of ours no longer exists. The faerie opened his eyes and found Niamh before him, her eyes closed as if she had fallen to sleep. She had no more breath and so she was dying as the magical current claimed her.

Donnaghue went to Niamh and pressed his lips to her own, breathing into her as she gasped within his mouth. He smiled faintly and released her as she looked upon him in bewilderment and shock, and then...there was utter silence and the air.... air was cold.... grass was wet beneath the faerie’s feet.
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Niamh awoke suddenly and with a start as her vision returned to her and she felt cold, cold wind upon her flesh. She looked about her with her eyes only and saw that she lay in an open field where the grass was long and yellow. There were no stone walls and there were no sheep.
She rose slowly to her knees and groaned as she felt a searing pain through her body. She lay down once more and held her own self as tears began to fall from her weary eyes.
Niamh rose to her feet despite her pain and looked to the sky. Rain began to fall from tremulous clouds above her.
“You wake.” There came voice from behind her. She wheeled about and saw there the faerie king as he looked upon her with a malicious grin. His robes were wet and she knew that he had found reason to follow her, though why he wished to follow her she did not know, nor did she desire to know.

“H-hullo.” Niamh said as she looked away and stepped from him so that he was not so very near to her. He, though, advanced and she soon became frightened as he reached forth his hand and bid her take it.
“N-no.” She said and he frowned.
“Why?” Asked he and Niamh replied: “You wished to kill me.”
“I did not wish to kill you!” The faerie laughed and in a single swift moment his arms were about her. “I wished to send you to this land.”
“I-I would have died in the... in the river... oh--” Niamh stirred beneath his arms as the faerie ran his hand over her belly.
Donnaghue laughed grimly in her ear and hissed to her in a low tone: “You will be my slave now, Niamh, for I saved you from death.”
“You brought it upon me!” Niamh’s voice was weak and she trembled as his hand roamed to her breasts and his hair clung to her form, her chemise torn and wet.
“I did not bring death upon you! I said I brought you here.”
“And I would have... and I would have died in the river...”
“But you did not for I saved you.” The faerie’s tone became melodious and his breath came as if in song as he cast over her a faerie spell, one that she was unaware he had cast upon her.”You are in debt to me.”
Niamh whimpered as his hand once more went to her belly and his fingers traveled to her inner thighs. With a cry in terror, the girl surrendered and pulled away from the faerie, holding her arms about her as tears streamed over her face.
“Pray! pray, leave me be, faerie, and I will serve you!” Niamh said and the faerie went to her and held her face in his hands.
“You are mine.” He said lowly and turned away from her swiftly. “Come, girl, and we shall see what lies near to us. Perhaps there is a village nigh.”
“You do not wish to return?” Niamh had hoped that when the faerie had sworn her to him he would wish to return home, but it did not seem that was his intent.
Donnaghue looked over his shoulder at the girl and smiled. “We cannot return home.” He said.
Niamh’s eyes widened and she fell to her knees, remembering her father’s words that faerey men would not do with her what it was she wished. She could never return home? She shuddered at the thought and clung to the faerie’s robes as he went to her once more. Her limbs were weak and her mind was devoid of thought as she knew she would never see her father and mother again. The faerie laughed cruelly.
“Why lass,” He mocked, “Do you wish to return home?”
“Aye! Aye! Aye, that is what I had hoped! I cannot remain here.”
The faerie bent upon his knee before her and said as he drew her face to his own: “The land of Faerey is no better than this place, love.”
Niamh tore her face away from his grasp and fell back, away from him as he chuckled grimly.
“Come.” Donnaghue said as he pulled her behind him, “Let us go now.”
and Niamh followed as her legs would do nothing else.

Late drew on he night and the stars shone brightly as the faerie led Niamh onward. She knew that he did not know this land, though he and his folk spoke of it, for they seemed to fear it... this land they made sound to be aprison or realm of punishment.
Donnaghue looked to Niamh as she looked to the yellow grass sorrowfully.

“Do not worry,” The faerie lord said, “Your mother and father will not notice you have left them... I am sure of it.”
Niamh started at these words and as anger welled to her brim within her heart, she turned sharply upon the faerie and struck him over his porcelain face. Then, suddenly, she was frightened, for the faerie looked upon her with an emotionless face, the red of the imprint of her hand resting over his midnight eye and his long ear. But he had said such a foul and cruel thing and she had so very longed to strike him!
She raised her hand once more and struck him a second time and then thrice her hand met his face.
Her fury was released upon the faerie and he was motionless as her hands struck him over his face and over his body. Tears began to fall from her eyes and she cursed the faerie and cursed herself until she could bear her sorrow and grief no longer and she fell to her knees, hiding her face in her hands as she wept.

The faerie was silent. Niamh knew that he was angry and that soon she would be punished, but it mattered not, for he had greatly wronged her with his words... and with his actions. She had only watched his folk dance and now she was imprisoned to this cursed land with he whom she despised with her very soul. He had not saved her life in the river, he had merely prolonged it.

The faerie was silent. He felt the burn of her touch and he smiled upon it,though his was not a smile of joy or mischief but of dark thoughts that played through his mind as he pondered the mortal wench’s insolence.
“You evil little wench.” Were his only words.
Niamh stiffened at his response and she closed her eyes to silence her tears.
“You do not speak of my father and mother in such a way. They belong to me and I to them and they will not forget me and they will worry for my safety.” Niamh’s voice trembled and her body was still as she slowly raised her gaze to meet the faerie’s own. He looked upon her silently.
Then, with a severe blow to her head, the poor girl was felled to the ground with a resounding thud against a standing stone that so happened to be standing nigh.
“I may speak however it is that I wish.” He said and moved on before the girl as she defiantly raised her aching body from the ground. Her head bled horribly but she did not see this.

Niamh and the faerie lord Donnaghue moved onward over the fields for a day and then a night and Niamh did not speak to the faerie for fear of a second blow. Though the first had been uncalled for and savage. But, then, are faeries not so? Niamh remained silent and as the night passed and morning came, they started out once more and not a word was said. At last, the faerie looked to Niamh and patted her over her matted head.
“Come now,” He said with a smirk, “Surely you are not angry at me?”
Niamh said nothing but pulled away quickly as his hand wondered to her hips. With a sigh she replied “No.” and that was all, no glance and not a second word. The faerie only smiled and walked ahead of her.
“What will become of me, lord?” Nimah asked as an hour passed for her deepest thoughts. Donnaghue nodded his head slowly and grimaced.
“Whatever it is that I wish you to do, Niamh.” He said. “And some you may despise... but then, you belong to me and you will have no say in any atter, so what does your dislike matter?” He tossed his head arrogantly and smiled at his own mirth, though Niamh did not laugh as he soon did. She did not know what would become of her if she tried to escape him, nor did she wish to see such awful consequences.

At length, the sun set a third time and Donnaghue pointed ahead.
“Lo! Do you see there?” He asked and Niamh looked.
She saw forest rising in he distance that shone a golden light in the setting of the sun. Its trees were tall and silver, their leaves large and golden, Niamh could see as they drew nearer, and she thought it a beautiful place to look upon.
“Shall we rest there tonight, lord?” She asked hopefully and to her joy the faerie nodded his head.
“Yes, we shall and there...” He looked mischievously over his shoulder at the girl and grinned broadly. “Well, you shall see.”
Niamh shrank back and slowed her pace, fearing the light that shone in the faerie’s eye. He meant no good, she could see. Suddenly a fear shot through her body so great as she had never felt and she stopped. The faerie saw her as she remained where she stood and went to her, pulling her along behind him as she began to weep, looking to the forest now with dread. She knew that faeries were at home in the trees and she knew what would become of her if she did not escape.
The faerie tightened his grasp on Niamh’s wrist and his claws pierced her flesh. Tears fell freely from the girl’s eyes as they entered the wood and the faerie looked to her with a wry smile.
“Release me.” She pleaded.
“No.” Was her reply and it was final.
“I beg of you, let me be, lord, and I will not leave you! Only let me be!”
The faerie laughed and wrenched the girl to his side.
“I hear voices in the trees.” He said and pulled her head to the leaves of the trees. She closed her eyes and cried out as he ripped the hair from her head, throwing her to the ground. “I can do nothing to you here... elves watch. I can tarry here no longer..... but I will return, have no fear that I shall not.” Whereupon he vanished as if he were never there.

Niamh looked warily about her as she rose to her feet. She heard voices as well. Voices that were soft and all about her. Leaves rustled over her head and silks moved. Niamh started as a small bird cried out. She laughed slightly and moved forward, happy that at last the faerie had left her, though she knew he was near to her still, perhaps watching her as well.
“E-elves... ?” She murmured aloud as she whirled about, watching the leaves as she went, searching for a place of solitude and shadow to hide.
“Surely elves can be no more evil than Donnaghue.” Niamh thought as she bent her gaze to the mossy ground.
Then, there came a sharp command from somewhere before her and she started once more.
“Daro!” Said a voice that was loud and clear over the sighing of the wind, sharp and fierce. Nimah’s very blood ran cold and she fell against the bark of the silver tree that rose near to her.
The tree above her shook slightly and from the boughs there leapt a tall and lovely man, a bow was in his hands and a arrow was taught upon its string.
Niamh’s eyes widened at the shining tip of the arrow and she cowered against the tree, holding her hands up before her face, weeping and crying out frantically.
“Dina.” The man said and as Niamh looked upon him with wavering eyes she saw his ears were long and pointed and... his face... her cries were silenced as she saw his face.
He was not a faerie, she could see this, and he was no mortal. He was an elf. Donnaghue had spoken of the elves when e’er he left her and now one of the very so stood before her.
The elf glared upon Niamh, suspicion burning in his eyes of finest silver wrought. His face was stern now, but it was soft, still, and she saw that his eyes softened even as she looked upon her.
Niamh’s face was dirtied and pale and her cheeks were dim and her lips shone red beneath the dirt that lay over them. Her fiery hair fell about her face and over her shoulders that were torn and bare from the shreds of her garment that she held about her. The elf lowered his bow, seeing she was of no threat.
Then, a second elf leapt from the trees, frightening Niamh as he landed lightly before her, nearly brushing her with the silk of his tunic.
The second elf looked to the first and spoke with him in a strange and flowing tongue that Niamh dearly wished she knew. Alas, though, for they spoke of her and she did not know their words.
Niamh looked warily about her for any sign of more elves before rising cautiously to her feet. The two elves turned their gaze to her as she stood before them, her head bent to the ground, her hand held out before her. The first elf took it lightly and looked curiously upon the frightened girl, though she would not meet his gaze.
“Creoso, lirimaer.” He said softly. His voice was like the summer wind, summer wine. “Tula sinome.” and he made to draw Niamh a bit nearer to his company, but she was hesitant and refused with a violent shake of her head, her eyes widening in fear.
“Uuma dela... uuma dela. Tula sinome... khila amin.”
But Niamh remained still as the elf pulled her hand gently as if to say to follow him. Indeed, that is what his elvish tongue requested she do, but she did not know this.
When the elf looked and saw the girl would not move, he laughed slightly and turned to his companion.
“Mani naa ta?” He said quietly and with question, but the other elf only shook his head as if he knew no answer.
The first elf turned once more to Niamh and asked of her: “Lle quena i’lambe tel’ Eldalie?”
Niamh tilted her head in question and shook her head slightly.
“I do not speak your tongue.” She said and the elf smiled with realization.
“A! Yallume!” He held Niamh’s hand in his own for a brief moment and lifted her chin to meet his gaze. She looked away for his eyes frightened her. Alas! So much here frightened her. She wondered if the faerie Donnaghue watched from some cowardly hiding place.

The elf sighed and spoke slowly, and in Niamh’s own tongue, saying: “You do not speak Elvish?” His voice was slow and his speech a mixture of Gaelic and Latin; both tongues Niamh spoke fluently, but it did not seem so for the elf, his tongue stumbled over his words and he spoke with a strange but heavy accent.
Niamh smiled. “No, sir, I do not speak... elvish.” She said shyly, meeting his eyes for but a moment. “Well do you speak my own language.”
“My accent is not so well, I have been told.” The elf said with a slight bow before the girl. She bowed her head in the fashion of her folk and smiled once more.
The elf held out his hand and Niamh took it, though her hand trembled in his palm, merely from fatigue. She wondered how it was that the elf whom she had never before seen the likes of, knew her speech and knew it well enough to speak with her. She sighed and thought that she might ask him later, when she had rested and when her mind did not race so badly with questions and worries.

The elf led Niamh far over the mossy turf of the forest floor, beneath the boughs that shone with a golden light. Niamh had never seen such beauty in the leaves of trees, nor had she ever truley gazed upon them, either, for she had allways seen them the same. But now, now she looked upon them with a new wonder that seemed to have been revived by the touch of the elf’s hand to her own. She smiled faintly as he looked down to her. He was tall and the girl only just came to his chest as she walked beside him.
The elf led the girl onward for a moent more before he halted in his tracks and turned to Niamh, pulling forth from the silver sash that wrapped about his waist a linen cloth, pure and white.
Niamh looked upon it with question as he held it out to her.
“What shall I do with it?” Niamh asked as she took the linen cloth. The elf replied lowly as he wrapped the cloth about her eyes:
“This forest is a peacful place, my lady, and no mortal eyes can see it further. Forgive me, but all who pass through here must endure blindness untill the city of Caras Galadhon is before them. So, too, must you endure such blindness. But do not worry, for when the night falls and it is dark I shall release your vision.”
And so Niamh was led upon a string of silver twine, the linen cloth wrapped about her eyes and her hands feeling about her ass he was led like a blinded dog through the silver trees. The elf led her true, though, and she did not fall, nor did she come to any harm.

This elven forest into which Niamh had unwillingly strayed was great and wide. Many hours passed before the night had come. Niamh could hear elven voices about her and she could hear the rustle of leaves over her head.
In tme, the elf who led Niamh onward finally stopped and other voices were heard to join his as he spoke to the night’s air.
“Mani marte?” Came the other voices urgently, “Mani nae lle umien?”
“Manke naa Nikerym Haldir?” Said Niamh’s leader in the elven tongue. She wondered what they spoke of and lifted her finger to the cloth about her eyes, making to slip it away slightly so she could see where she stood, but her hand was, rather harshly, struck to her side.
Then, the elf who led Niamh onward went to her ( she could hear his feet softly step over the leaves ) and he pulled away her blindfold.

Then, turning to the other elves, he said briskly: “Auta! Auta en ro!” And the other elves then leapt into the boughs of the trees high, high above them with ease and grace, running over the bark soundlessly and as swiftly as the breath of the wind moves.
“Where have they gone?” Niamh asked as the elf sighed and turned to her.
“They have gone to find my brother, Haldir. He is the captain of the gaurd of these woods.” The elf said simply in reply.

The elf’s ears twitched as he heard the cry of an elvish horn sound over the trees and he smiled as he saw the leaves above rustle. Then, with nary a sound as he landed, there leapt from the boughs above another elf. He was taller than the first and over his shoulders was thrown a silver cloak.
“ ‘Quel undome!” Said the second elf as he embraced the first. Then, he turned to Niamh as she stood idle behind him, looking eagerly on with great, wide eyes. The first elf quickly pulled the second aside, though, and spoke to him in low, low tones.
“She is not of this world.” The first said as the second looked over his shoulder with a swift glance, “She came to us in he hands of a faerie lord. Donnaghue. I woulrd remember his face any day.” and he chuckled slightly.
The second elf sighed heavily as he senced the girl’s eyes rest hungrily upon him. “What is her name?” He asked, but the first elf only shook his head.
“I do not know.” He said, “ I have not asked, nor have I given her my own name.”
The second elf looked over his shoulder once more with a sigh.
“She is of no danger to us.” The first said quickly as the second began to shake his head slowly. “She is only a helpless little girl. She is only just the age of a woman, young and Donnaghue is no kind faerie, I have seen other mortals in is hands; he is not well with them.”
“Has she no place to go?” The second said reluctantly, for he found the girl lovely and s sweet, but he so happened to be the captain of the gaurd of the forest wherein they stood and he could not just let a strange mortal enter their trees without any question. “Where has her faerie lord gone?” And, unfortunately, he said these words far to loud and so the girl heard him. The two elves-- for some reason or another --had chosen to speak in er native tongue ( gaelic/latin ) and so she heard the second elf’s last words. With no leave, the girl chimed in on their conversation, answering the question he second elf had lain out so very loudly.
“I do not know where the faerie lord is, but he is certainly not ‘MINE’ as you stated in the line ‘ her faerie lord ‘.” Niamh said, wrapping her arms about her as she shook from a sudden chill wind that blew through the trees. “He disapeared when he heard... him” (here she pointed at the first elf with a trembling finger) “and his folk in the trees. I do not know where he is, and rightly do I wish not to know, for he planned to do with me what no honorable man would ever do.”
Both the elves looked upon her with widened eyes and te second went quickly to her and asked her what she meant by ‘what no honorable man would ever do.
Niamh looked to the ground and then fearfullly about her. Hesitantly, she ave her answer, though the fear she bore of it brought tears to her eyes as she moved her hand over her belly and then over her hidden place quickly.
The elves’ eyes widened ever greater, and the first said to the second in the elvish tongue: “She cannot remain with him! He will hurt her and rid her of her innocense. She cannot remain with him! I will not allow it!”
Niamh listened on silently as they spoke, though she could not understand their words, and she wiped the tears from her eyes. THen, something from far to the east caught her eye and she looked. She saw there a cluster of bushes and from within them looked a pair of black eyes as black as the sky above. Niamh shrieked in horror as she saw it was Donnaghue watching her and she ran to the elves for protection, thoughthey were shocked by her boldness as she clutched their silken tunics in terror.
“There!” She cried as the elves looked warily about them, their fair hands upon the hilts of their swords.
“What is it?!” The first elf cries as from the bushes there rose a tall, slithering snake, rising up as if to strike them.
“That is Donnaghue?!” The second elf asked with a laugh as his brother leaped to safety when the great snake lunged its head forth.
Venom was caught on the silver of the trees.

The second elf rushed to Niamh’s side and lifted her quickly into his arms, leaping high into the trees. There, he placed her safely on a branch and left her alone... but safe.

The elf leapt to the ground once more and joined his brother as they sought for a way to slay this great beast.
“Brother!” The first elf called, “This is not the faerie the girl came to our wood in the hands of!”
“Donnaghue is a faerie!” Said the second as he dodged the hissing fangs of the snake, “He keeps no one form!”
Then they spoke no more and only fled the deadly lunges of the snake.

The second elf drew from a quiver upon his back a long, white arrow, and he drew this to his brother’s bow, firing it upon the snake. However, the weapon merely wounded the snake and left it alive. The snake hissed in pain and fell to the ground, no more dangerous and high. It glared upon the elves as they smirked in victory.
The evil beast rose to its highest point once more and with a great rush of wind, it changed form into that of a tall man, his hair of ebony falling far behind him.

In the tree, Niamh could only just keep from crying out when she saw Donnaghue there.

Donnaghue raised his midnight gaze to the silver of the elves’, and upon his face so fair rested a scowl like that of a spoiled child.
He withdrew into the bushes as quick as the wind and said: “I will return. I will have with the girl what I came to this wood to have. I am at home in the trees... lest you forget.” And thenhe was gone... gone as if he had never been there.

The second elf turned briskly and went to the tree wherein Niamh hid. He leapt into its branches and found Niamh, huddled in a heap at the trunk of the tree, her head burried in her knees that were drawn up about her chest. Slowly, the frightened girl looked to the elf as he held forth his hand.
“Come,” He said softly, climbing to the branch beside her. “Take my hand.”
But Niamh would not. “No.” She said, “For he is still out there and here he cannot see me... if you take me down there he will get me.” and she burst out in tears at the thought of his grasp.
The elf came beside her and lifted her chin to meet his gaze. “Do not be frightened.” He said, “The elves will forever gaurd you... I will forever gaurd you.”
Niamh looked upon him and smiled faintly, brushing her tears from her face. She held out her hands and the elf took her into his arms, carrying her down to the forest floor.

The first elf smiled to see his brother’s face softened as it was and he laughed in his mind. “Let us take her to--”
“My own flet.”
“Brother?”
”Yes? There she will be safe and no where else. I will sleep upon the floor with few blankets and she may have my bed.”
“Oh, no, sir elf, I cannot take your bed from you!” Niamh said, “I will sleep upon the floor!” but the elf shook his head.
His brother came and whispered to Niamh: “He is as stubborn as a mule.”
Niamh laughed and when the first elf inquired as to why they laughed so, they said nothing to him.

The second elf smiled at their mirth and looked ahead. He felt the girl’s soft flesh against him and his smile was gone from him at once. He did not know why he felt differently toward this girl, nor did he know what it was that he felt. He breathed the fresh air to rid his mind o these troublesome thoughts and looked upon the girl as she closed her eyes. The night was deep and so should she sleep. His brother spoke no more to her, but laid is hand upon her head.
“I am surprised at you, brother.” He said. “I had thought that you would cast her away when you saw that Donnaghue is relentless in retrieving her.”
The second elf nodded his head. “It is for such reason I did not cast her away. That foul faerie shall have naught of her... I will see that she is always safe.”
The elf’s brother looked to the ground. “You have never been so gratious to any mortal... am I correct, brother, when I say that you...” though his voice only faded into nothing as he was lost in thought.
“Yes?”
But the first elf only shook his head. “It is of no matter.” He said. “I am only glad that you saw it fit to keep the girl with us... she is lovely and sweet and perhaps she will make the Galadhrim a happier folk, for we are grim, I have seen, and she is a blithe little mortal girl. Perhaps she will show you true laughter. That is what I wish.”