Maya
folder
-Multi-Age › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
4
Views:
1,749
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
-Multi-Age › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
4
Views:
1,749
Reviews:
2
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.
Chapter 3
Disclaimer: All familiar characters of this story belong to the awesome world and works of JRR Tolkien, who is an unparalleled genius of this genre. All unfamiliar and original characters, animals and places are of my own invention. I do not derive any monies from this work and created this story solely out of the love and respect that I hold for all of the works related to this canon.
Maya
by Sienna Dawn
~*~*~*~
Chapter 3
Long had the Fellowship journeyed, braving cold and death, shadow pursuing them relentlessly.
Many times had my essence covered them and saved them from the eyes of Saruman, treacherous serpent that he had become. Often did I linger over the fair elven prince, caressing him with a gentle breeze, goading a tree to embrace him in shady fronds. In the dark nights, when the others slept and he took the lonely watch of the hours before dawn, I came to him silently, and kept him company. Then, in these moments, and in small ways he hid not from me, he acknowledged my presence, although he could see me not. Keen were the eyes of Mithrandir, who had long known of my love for this beautiful golden creature. Many had been his counsels to seek love amongst my kindred. Always did I glide away from his words, knowing their wisdom but refusing their logic. At these times I dove inside the streams and sailed with the silver fish of lakes and rivers, returning to the Fellowship refreshed, though my spirit continued torn.
And what of him, my fair elven prince?
His awareness of me grew stronger daily. This I knew by the tenth day of our journey.
Solitary were his walks when the Fellowship made camp, often losing himself within the small niches of ancient trees. Bright were his eyes and always did he search, not knowing my name, but often calling, "Are you there?" His voice sweet, gentle, like the many notes of a beloved song. Never did I answer, for it was forbidden me. Yet, my essence touched him, and within his spirit I felt the awakening of a thing some might call love.
Long was our journey, and deep within Moria's dark halls, death and flame defeated Mithrandir. Yet, I knew as the others did not, that although the Istari's body succumbed, his spirit did not. Brief would be his sundering from the Fellowship, to return mightier than before. But this I could not reveal to the travelers who desperately clung to the hope Mithrandir had survived. By nightfall of that fateful day, all despaired and grieved. Worried, I continued vigilant over the Fellowship and most of all over my prince, searching his heart, knowing his pain deeply buried. How I longed to hold my sweet golden elf. Carry him to the highest peaks where no shadow or grief could pierce his soul. So deep was Legolas' grief, that I set to watching him, soaring above him always, thankful for the stalwart little dwarf whose friendship had come to mean so much to him.
Fragile, they say are elven hearts, but that is a thing said by those who do not know the strength and fire of the Quendi. And long did my prince grieve, until his spirit found solace in the tall mallorn of the golden wood of Lothlorien. Here, like him, I often came and sat atop the highest branch, waiting, watching the sparkling stars, calling to the great eagles, looking toward Mordor with a keen eye and a heavy heart. Sometimes, when my eyes chanced to glance toward him, unable to keep his presence at bay, his eyes would meet mine, unknowingly, for I was still cloaked within my invisible fortress. Yet, would his soulful gaze roam over the tops of the golden trees, and in his sweet face I could see memories of youth coming to the forefront of his mind. At these times, when his spirit poured over mine like liquid mithril, I knew he was beginning to recall; to relive; to remember me.
But then shadow began to march again and soon the Fellowship moved on, leaving the Golden Wood behind within the realms of forgotten dreams and faded magic. I traveled with them, sailing upon the swift currents of the silver Anduin, following the boats, watching, and listening. Death followed relentlessly and to fair elven prince I came, giving him my essence so he may know, sense it, feel the doom about them.
Quick he was to understand and just as swiftly warned his companions.
Then the moment was at hand.
High atop the trees I watched the battle. I moved the winds away from the uruk so as to dispel the scent of the halflings and give them opportunities to escape. Sunlight did I filter through dense clouds to confuse their orch brains, giving the warriors of the Fellowship time to prepare, always watching my beloved, manipulating light and wind to his favor. In all of what was to come, I knew he realized this good fortune came from my hand, and gratefulness welled within his elven soul and this too I sensed.
When the battle was over, silently I sent him warnings. He listened without knowing that he did and with him I journeyed to the lodges and cities of Men.
~*~*~*~
Maya
by Sienna Dawn
~*~*~*~
Chapter 3
Long had the Fellowship journeyed, braving cold and death, shadow pursuing them relentlessly.
Many times had my essence covered them and saved them from the eyes of Saruman, treacherous serpent that he had become. Often did I linger over the fair elven prince, caressing him with a gentle breeze, goading a tree to embrace him in shady fronds. In the dark nights, when the others slept and he took the lonely watch of the hours before dawn, I came to him silently, and kept him company. Then, in these moments, and in small ways he hid not from me, he acknowledged my presence, although he could see me not. Keen were the eyes of Mithrandir, who had long known of my love for this beautiful golden creature. Many had been his counsels to seek love amongst my kindred. Always did I glide away from his words, knowing their wisdom but refusing their logic. At these times I dove inside the streams and sailed with the silver fish of lakes and rivers, returning to the Fellowship refreshed, though my spirit continued torn.
And what of him, my fair elven prince?
His awareness of me grew stronger daily. This I knew by the tenth day of our journey.
Solitary were his walks when the Fellowship made camp, often losing himself within the small niches of ancient trees. Bright were his eyes and always did he search, not knowing my name, but often calling, "Are you there?" His voice sweet, gentle, like the many notes of a beloved song. Never did I answer, for it was forbidden me. Yet, my essence touched him, and within his spirit I felt the awakening of a thing some might call love.
Long was our journey, and deep within Moria's dark halls, death and flame defeated Mithrandir. Yet, I knew as the others did not, that although the Istari's body succumbed, his spirit did not. Brief would be his sundering from the Fellowship, to return mightier than before. But this I could not reveal to the travelers who desperately clung to the hope Mithrandir had survived. By nightfall of that fateful day, all despaired and grieved. Worried, I continued vigilant over the Fellowship and most of all over my prince, searching his heart, knowing his pain deeply buried. How I longed to hold my sweet golden elf. Carry him to the highest peaks where no shadow or grief could pierce his soul. So deep was Legolas' grief, that I set to watching him, soaring above him always, thankful for the stalwart little dwarf whose friendship had come to mean so much to him.
Fragile, they say are elven hearts, but that is a thing said by those who do not know the strength and fire of the Quendi. And long did my prince grieve, until his spirit found solace in the tall mallorn of the golden wood of Lothlorien. Here, like him, I often came and sat atop the highest branch, waiting, watching the sparkling stars, calling to the great eagles, looking toward Mordor with a keen eye and a heavy heart. Sometimes, when my eyes chanced to glance toward him, unable to keep his presence at bay, his eyes would meet mine, unknowingly, for I was still cloaked within my invisible fortress. Yet, would his soulful gaze roam over the tops of the golden trees, and in his sweet face I could see memories of youth coming to the forefront of his mind. At these times, when his spirit poured over mine like liquid mithril, I knew he was beginning to recall; to relive; to remember me.
But then shadow began to march again and soon the Fellowship moved on, leaving the Golden Wood behind within the realms of forgotten dreams and faded magic. I traveled with them, sailing upon the swift currents of the silver Anduin, following the boats, watching, and listening. Death followed relentlessly and to fair elven prince I came, giving him my essence so he may know, sense it, feel the doom about them.
Quick he was to understand and just as swiftly warned his companions.
Then the moment was at hand.
High atop the trees I watched the battle. I moved the winds away from the uruk so as to dispel the scent of the halflings and give them opportunities to escape. Sunlight did I filter through dense clouds to confuse their orch brains, giving the warriors of the Fellowship time to prepare, always watching my beloved, manipulating light and wind to his favor. In all of what was to come, I knew he realized this good fortune came from my hand, and gratefulness welled within his elven soul and this too I sensed.
When the battle was over, silently I sent him warnings. He listened without knowing that he did and with him I journeyed to the lodges and cities of Men.
~*~*~*~