Faded Light: Book II

(For additional notes and disclaimers, please top of Chapter 1.)

- Here is a little more Elfling cuteness with a very small amount of angst...nothing horrible though…

Sarah, thank you for your review...(I like writing about the kids too, but I always feel I’m horrible at writing children’s characters.) In the previous chapter, I’m not sure if I’m looking at the same sentence you mention as getting repeated; there is one part where it sort of says the same thing twice, but the first part is Legolas sort thinking to himself out loud, and then he says it to Mel. I’m sorry if it came out weird. As for Haradrim and Harawaith, they really mean the same thing, so tend to use them interchangeably. Anyway, enjoy this one, and I’ll try to be back again soon... -

Chapter 29

AforHen

 

“Do you want to talk about it...?” Feredir asked, sitting beside the boy on the ledge of the terrace overlooking the small, secluded garden that adjoined the family’s wing of the Palace.



“No...”



Ever since the incident with the bird, the Elfling had become withdrawn, even more so than he had been when he had first come to them months ago. He had gotten into spending most of his time in the library or in his rooms with the school books Mistress Randiriel had given him or out here in the garden...but though the teacher agreed he had shown himself to be a very good student and his Sindarin had much improved, there was more to life than books and watching the small critters that visited the garden...



“I guess you also don’t want to talk about the bad dreams you’re still having...?” he said.



The Elfling shrugged and kept looking over the railing into the garden, small feet, in the new boots Alatariel had recently had made for him, dangling over the edge.



Just to look at Benain no one would have guessed that less than six months ago, he had been a servant at a Rohan inn; his hair was longer than it had been then, almost as long as Ithilhen’s; the older Elfling had shown him how to braid it the way all young boys wore it in Mirkwood, and Alatariel had made sure he now had a full wardrobe as good as the older boy’s...he had even gained a little weight; his small-boned frame when Feredir first found him had looked much too thin.



But Feredir realized that it would take more than the material things that they could provide, for the difficult first part of the child’s life to really be left behind...



“This was one of my favorite spots too, when I was an Elfling,” said the elder looking for some way to engage the boy in conversation. “When I first came here after my ontani went away...”



“I thought the King was your Adar...” the Elfling’s brow furrowed as he wondered whether he had misunderstood the relationships in this family he had come into...he didn’t really know much about families, but it all seemed very complicated sometimes...



“He and Queen Thalielwen raised me,” said the Elf warrior, “from the time I was a very little Elfling. But I had other parents long ago...



“Some bad things happened, and they couldn’t stay...” he said, sadly, remembering those days so long ago just after his sire fell in some unnamed battle, as the Darkness had began slowly to make its way into the Greenwood.



Something in his father had died too that day, with Inthenin; he had barely come out of his room for weeks after. The Queen, Palanel’s sister, had come to see them almost every day, until one day the boy found inexplicably that their things had been packed and loaded into a wagon, and they left their house for the last time; Palanel for the Havens, Feredir to the Palace with his aunt who would become his naneth...



The thought occurred to him, looking at the boy sitting beside him, that there were many times when adults might make things far easier on children simply by not springing such life-altering surprises on them with no warning...



“I don’t remember much about them,” he went on, “but I remember I missed them very much...



“I used to have bad dreams too sometimes when I was little...often it helped to talk about it...”



“Do I have to talk about it?”



“We don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want, Little One...” he said, sensing the boy pulling away emotionally, again.



Feredir had learned early on how the Elfling would respond to being pressed on anything; he was used to being ordered about and would usually comply with what he perceived to be a command, but Feredir had no wish to be regarded as just another adult giving pointless orders...



Trust was a fragile thing, especially for a child who had had little reason in his young life to trust anyone, and Benain was clearly still deciding, even after all these months, how far his could be given...



“But I would like to help,” said the elder, brushing a strand of pale hair from the child’s forehead.



“Everything is very different here,” said the Elfling quietly, after a minute, still looking into the garden.



“Different than Rohan, you mean...?



“Do you miss Rohan...?”



“Sometimes...a little...I really only ever remember living there...



“But I think I like it better here...” He smiled a little, and rested his forehead on the low rail, “I don’t think there are so many trees in all of Rohan...



“Are we going to stay here now?” he asked.



“For now at least; though I have duties that might take me back to Rohan for a while...



“But Alatariel and I were thinking that you and Ithilhen might enjoy a trip to Lorien over the summer...”



“Gwirithniel showed me a book about Lorien,” said the Elfling, blue eyes lighting up with childish curiosity. “Is it very far?”



“Not too far...though there is not as much travel between our realms as there once was because of all the dangers on the roads...” said the warrior. If he was going to let his wife and the children travel to Lorien, he thought broodingly to himself, he would be making sure to select every member of that escort himself.



“Do you want to tell me about the other day,” Feredir asked gently again after another moment of silence, since that the boy had let his defenses down a little. “About what happened with that little bird...?



“Did something like that ever happen before, when you lived at the inn?”



“It only happened once before...when I was a lot littler...” the Elfling admitted softly, hesitating.



“I found a crushed butterfly, and I fixed it...I didn’t know I could, it just happened...like with the bird...” he paused, wiping at his face as he fought back tears...



“The inn-mistress was even angrier than usual that time...she said I was a demon-spawn...



“She didn’t beat me, usually. She just used to say mean things...that time she did, and she made me sleep in the cellar for a fortnight...



“I didn’t like it there...it was always dark and there were rats...” he said, looking away again and biting his lip.



“I didn’t mean for it to happen again...I really didn’t...” he took a deep breath and sniffed unhappily. “I try to be good, but bad things always happen anyway...



“The inn-mistress used to say I couldn’t help being wicked and bringing ill fortune...because I’m a half-breed and a bastard.”



“She sounds like a witch...” the Elf warrior used a very different word in his thoughts but didn’t say it in front of the child.



The boy looked up surprised at the elder’s words...



Feredir placed an arm around the boy’s shoulders and pulled him to his side, as more tears fell.



If the child’s Healing gift had really revealed itself at a very early age, he thought, whoever his Elven parent had been must be of a bloodline that had previously manifested such talents...he would have to talk to Vaurna and Mistress Randiriel and maybe Lord Elrond; they would know how best to help and teach a child with such potential. If he could learn how to handle it, it would no longer be something that frightened him.



But for the moment it was the Elfling’s emotional well being that needed looking after...and obviously much of his fear was the result of one superstitious and cruel Mortal Woman...



“She wasn’t a very nice person,” said the Elfling after a minute, wiping at his face with the edge of a sleeve.



“One time, when my master was away, she tried to get rid of me,” he said, pulling back a little though he let the elder’s arm stay comfortingly around his shoulders. “She was going to sell me to a Man who used to stay at the inn sometimes...but my master came back then, and he got really mad...he called the Man a word I don’t know...”



“What word...?” he asked, smoothing the boy’s hair.



The Elfling thought carefully, “A...deep...dep-re...it was a funny word...”



The elder frowned deeply, “Depraved...?”



“Aye...what does it mean...?”



“It means that Man was probably a worse a person than the inn-mistress...”



“Worse than the rats…?” asked the boy, blue eyes wide...as if he couldn’t believe there was really something worse than sleeping in a rat-infested basement...



Feredir wasn’t sure what to say to that, only thanking the Valar that whatever the child had gone through, it had apparently not been as bad as it might have been, (and the innkeeper had just gone up a good deal in his regard, other than having allowing his bitch of a wife to bully a defenseless child)...



“Anyway, the Man never came back to the inn after that,” the Elfling finished.



“Tithen Pen, look at me...” said Feredir, wiping gently at the little damp face, glad too that the child had felt he could confide in him at least a little, “you didn’t do anything wrong, and you’re not anything that wicked Woman ever told you.



“What you did with that little bird, it’s a gift...it’s become a much rarer talent than it once was, but it’s not something to be hidden or feared...



“And I promise,” he said, “no one here will ever scold you or think badly of you for something like that...”

 

TBC...

Elvish Translations:

AforHen / Elf child

Ontani/ Parents (Feredir’s adar and sire.)

Adar, ada / Father, dad, daddy

Naneth, nana / Mother, mom, mommy

Tithenpen / Little one

 

Elvish Names:

Inthenin/ True Heart

Palanel/ Distant Star – He was Feredir’s birth father; his lover was Inthenin - when Inthenin fell in battle, Palanel was overcome with grief and went to Valinor, leaving his young son, Feredir, in the care of his sister Thalielwen, who was Thranduil’s Queen and, much later, became Legolas’ mother. (I have a whole story about Palanel and Inthenin that I’ve been playing with for a long time, actually. I’d like to write it eventually, whenever I finally manage to finish this one...)