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The Music in My Heart
folder
-Multi-Age › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
75
Views:
7,277
Reviews:
108
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
-Multi-Age › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
75
Views:
7,277
Reviews:
108
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 Morning Meditations
Title: The Music in My Heart, Chapter 3
Author: Sorsha
Fandom/Pairing: Elrond/OFC, Glorfindel/Haldir, Elladan/OFC, Elrohir/Legolas, others implied
Rating: NC-17 for later chapters
Warning: AU --- Story set 770 years after ROTK; Some slash but, mostly het.
Feedback: This is my first fanfic, so constructive feedback appreciated.
Archive:
Acknowledgements: Many thanks to Alex Cat for her help in betaing this fic.
Disclaimer: Any of the residents of Middle Earth and Aman that you recognize belong to Prof. Tolkien’s estate. The same is true about Middle Earth and Aman. I’m only visiting and admiring the “views”.
Summary: Sauron may be gone, but his legacy of evil still lingers. As Middle Earth faces the threat of another dark lord, a party of elves departs Aman on a mission for the Valar, a mission of mercy long delayed.
Chapter 3 --- Morning Meditations
“It is a wise father that knows his own child.”
William Shakespeare
*****
The day has always begun early for the inhabitants of the Last Homely House. At the height of its fame, the day’s work and the business of governing Imladris was handled by a small army of officials and staff. In the glory days of Lord Elrond, most of the servants had specific assignments and performed them to the highest standards. The endless tasks associated with the realm’s administration, the teaching of scholars and healers, the care of the property, the protection of the borders, the healing of the sick and infirm, and the care of the house’s residents was the work of many and the pride of all.
Those days were, sadly, long past. The last big sailing of the eldar to the Blessed Lands had taken place over 500 years earlier; Lord Elrond had been gone for almost 750 years. Most that had served Imladris and had not sailed earlier had accompanied the Lord of the Valley on his journey. The work of so many now fell to the remaining few. Yes, the day begins early for the inhabitants of the Last Homely House.
*****
Celeborn was the first of the family to arrive for breakfast. Pausing at the doorway, he was struck once again by the changes the past centuries had left on the once grand hall, the once grand house. /Too few of us anymore to make this place seem truly alive, vital./
The small family table looked almost lost in this huge space joined as it was by only a half dozen other small round tables clustered near the main fireplace. /Even with fires in all the hearths, there are not enough bodies to fill the space as there used to be, so cold fills the gaps. It is always cold here in the morning once winter comes. Tis good to be an elf or it would be unbearable./
After stopping to greet the early arrivers at the other tables, Celeborn began to fill his plate at the buffet. /So much has changed and yet we stay. Some mornings, I truly wonder why./
His musings were broken by the grumpy “Quel amrun, Adar’ra” behind him. Turning he found his oldest grandson had joined him. /So like his ada, not a morning elf!> (Good morning, grandfather.)
“Good morning, Elladan. How fair you this morning?” Celeborn greeted, handing him a plate to fix his meal.
“As good as I can expect having been up most of the night helping the healers with the survivors of an attack on Tumbale.” Taking the plate, he joined Celeborn at the buffet. “It was a close call for several, including a little girl I tended. Thankfully, we heard their call for help in time to send warriors to their aid. I truly hate to think of the damage the yrck would have inflected had they had more time to ‘play’.” (deep valley)
The disgust and hatred dripped from Elladan’s voice as he continued. “I think we need to consider calling a council with the outlying settlements to discuss sanctuary here in Imladris. I do not think most of the settlements will survive the decade if the Hordes continue their attacks at the pace of recent years.”
“You raise a valid concern. But first, why was I not roused to assist with the wounded? It troubles me that I was sleeping when there was need of my help.”
“Had the need been greater, we would have called for you, but we decided to let you sleep as you have gotten so little rest of late. Between negotiating the new trade agreement with Rohan and trying to make Thranduil see reason …. I’m just glad you and Erestor deal with those matters. I would much rather fight a pack of uruk-hai any day than try to be a diplomat! Erestor seems to think swords at the conference table are not appropriate!” The first smile to grace his face this day appeared in response to his own joke. “Come, let us enjoy our breakfast before the next crisis is upon us.”
Moving toward their table, Elladan looked back at his grandfather “Rest assured we would have called for you had the situation demanded it. You and Erestor earned a night off, so fret not.” He looked down at his plate to hide a smirk upon hearing the aggravated huff from Celeborn.
“So, when is Legolas expected to arrive? I hope he had some success in reasoning with his father. I have my doubts. Some days I think teaching a warg to sing would be an easier task. …Did I mention how happy I am that you and Erestor handle those duties!” he teased. “Anyway, I reminded the morning patrol to be on the watch for his party. You know how many groups approaching Imladris from that direction have been attacked of late.” A grimace darkened Elladan’s features as he offered the last.
“Yes, a growing problem we must work to resolve. As for your desire to avoid matters of diplomacy and trade, you and your brother will have to involve yourselves in these matters at some point. Since your father went west, you are the Lord of this realm. Though ‘Lorien is only a shadow of its former self these last centuries, your twin is still my heir. The two of you should be leading these talks, not Erestor and me,” the silver haired elf stated.
“I am afraid that Elrohir and I did not inherit you or our father’s abilities to survive long, endless hours of talk. We spent too many years in the saddle in our youth to be able to sit for long behind a conference table or a desk. I suggest you continue to encourage Seere to become your next counsellor and give up on the two of us. She seems to have inherited Erestor’s skills and maybe she will yet overcome our bad influence.” /Thankfully she does not seem to have inherited her mother’s rash and impulsive nature. I doubt Erestor would survive losing her too./
“While my daughter will no doubt become a fine counsellor, she is not the Lord of Imladris. Unless you plan to abdicate in her favor, I am afraid you cannot avoid your destiny, conference tables and desks included.”
Both Elladan and Celeborn looked up to see Erestor entering the dining hall, a rare smile on his lips. “Your other choice is to marry her and make her your regent. Considering you and your twin look upon my daughter as your ‘little sister’, you might find abdication less objectionable than near incest.”
Smiling at the slightly green tinge that had crept into his grandson’s complexion, Celeborn could not resist continuing the attack. “Thank you, melon-nin. You raise a vital and long neglected issue. Is it not high time for both you and your brother to stop ‘sowing your oats’ and settle down with a mate?” he commented, enjoying the growing discomfort in his grandson’s features.
“I dare to hope there may yet be progress in that regard, dear Celeborn,” Erestor continued. “Unless I am mistaken, our young heir has been spending quite a lot of time helping in the Healing House of late, notably since a certain lovely young healer joined the staff. I think her name is Azeriel. Why Elladan, you are blushing! I did not think that was possible any more.”
“Indeed, I did not either! Tell me what you know about her, Erestor. You seem to have struck a nerve in our fearless one. I am intrigued,” the Lord of Lorien insisted, trying hard not to laugh.
“Yes, her name is indeed Azeriel and, yes my brother has been spending a LOT of time in the Healing House this past year.” All looked up to see Elrohir lounging in the doorway, a wicked grin on his face. “Also, walking in the gardens after dinner, strolling along the river by moonlight…. I seem to remember now that he was not alone.”
Smirking, he pushed away from the door frame and mover further into the room. “Of course, I am sure he is only trying to learn more about medicinal herbs and their uses. Adar would be so pleased to see his growing interest in this topic as he was never able to illicit one himself.”
Before he could say more, a gentle hand settled on his shoulder from behind. “Stop teasing him Elrohir or I will be forced to point out that you spent an unusual amount of time with your dress this morning. One may wonder why? Is there someone you wish to impress? Humm? Who might be arriving today that merits such attention?” Pausing the speaker’s eyes cut to Elladan before continuing, “But you do raise a good point about Elladan’s sudden ‘desire’ to become a healer. He did seem most dedicated last evening, did he not?”
Celeborn and Erestor shared a grin as the twin’s glares turned in unison to the room’s newest occupant. Seere had arrived. /Put the three of them in the same room for two seconds and their inner elfling is sure to appear!/ Celeborn thought. Suddenly, the great hall did not seem quite as empty as it did on his arrival.
*****
Listening with half an ear to the bantering of the others, Erestor settled back with his cup of tea to study his daughter. He was once again struck by how much she favored her naneth.
/Has it really been over 750 years since she disappeared? Without Seere, I do not think I would have survived the loss; she was so young to loose her naneth and to not know why… 750 years and it still consumes me. What could have been so important that she felt the need to pursue it with only three members of her guard leaving our daughter to the protection of the rest? 750 years and still no answers, no clue of her fate, though logic tells me she is lost to me. …Answers? Would answers give me peace or make the pain worse?/ Erestor mused for the countless time.
/Enough brooding over questions that have no answers. I need to talk to Seere. She looks tired and drawn, as if she carries a heavy weight about her shoulders. Has she had another vision, her eyes have that far away look to them… or do dreams plague her nights? I will talk to Celeborn once breakfast is over. Perhaps he knows what haunts her, thought I doubt he would fail to tell me if she had talked to him. It looks at if she has been crying and clearly, she slept poorly. In some ways, it was so much easier when she was an elfling; she came to me with everything./
/She has always seemed older than her years, even as a babe before Laurea … I think she seeks to protect me from more worry, but it is a parents job to worry about their child, no matter her age. Her silences worry me more than knowing what burdens her ever could. Indeed, iel nin, a talk is in order./ (my daughter)
Author: Sorsha
Fandom/Pairing: Elrond/OFC, Glorfindel/Haldir, Elladan/OFC, Elrohir/Legolas, others implied
Rating: NC-17 for later chapters
Warning: AU --- Story set 770 years after ROTK; Some slash but, mostly het.
Feedback: This is my first fanfic, so constructive feedback appreciated.
Archive:
Acknowledgements: Many thanks to Alex Cat for her help in betaing this fic.
Disclaimer: Any of the residents of Middle Earth and Aman that you recognize belong to Prof. Tolkien’s estate. The same is true about Middle Earth and Aman. I’m only visiting and admiring the “views”.
Summary: Sauron may be gone, but his legacy of evil still lingers. As Middle Earth faces the threat of another dark lord, a party of elves departs Aman on a mission for the Valar, a mission of mercy long delayed.
Chapter 3 --- Morning Meditations
“It is a wise father that knows his own child.”
William Shakespeare
*****
The day has always begun early for the inhabitants of the Last Homely House. At the height of its fame, the day’s work and the business of governing Imladris was handled by a small army of officials and staff. In the glory days of Lord Elrond, most of the servants had specific assignments and performed them to the highest standards. The endless tasks associated with the realm’s administration, the teaching of scholars and healers, the care of the property, the protection of the borders, the healing of the sick and infirm, and the care of the house’s residents was the work of many and the pride of all.
Those days were, sadly, long past. The last big sailing of the eldar to the Blessed Lands had taken place over 500 years earlier; Lord Elrond had been gone for almost 750 years. Most that had served Imladris and had not sailed earlier had accompanied the Lord of the Valley on his journey. The work of so many now fell to the remaining few. Yes, the day begins early for the inhabitants of the Last Homely House.
*****
Celeborn was the first of the family to arrive for breakfast. Pausing at the doorway, he was struck once again by the changes the past centuries had left on the once grand hall, the once grand house. /Too few of us anymore to make this place seem truly alive, vital./
The small family table looked almost lost in this huge space joined as it was by only a half dozen other small round tables clustered near the main fireplace. /Even with fires in all the hearths, there are not enough bodies to fill the space as there used to be, so cold fills the gaps. It is always cold here in the morning once winter comes. Tis good to be an elf or it would be unbearable./
After stopping to greet the early arrivers at the other tables, Celeborn began to fill his plate at the buffet. /So much has changed and yet we stay. Some mornings, I truly wonder why./
His musings were broken by the grumpy “Quel amrun, Adar’ra” behind him. Turning he found his oldest grandson had joined him. /So like his ada, not a morning elf!> (Good morning, grandfather.)
“Good morning, Elladan. How fair you this morning?” Celeborn greeted, handing him a plate to fix his meal.
“As good as I can expect having been up most of the night helping the healers with the survivors of an attack on Tumbale.” Taking the plate, he joined Celeborn at the buffet. “It was a close call for several, including a little girl I tended. Thankfully, we heard their call for help in time to send warriors to their aid. I truly hate to think of the damage the yrck would have inflected had they had more time to ‘play’.” (deep valley)
The disgust and hatred dripped from Elladan’s voice as he continued. “I think we need to consider calling a council with the outlying settlements to discuss sanctuary here in Imladris. I do not think most of the settlements will survive the decade if the Hordes continue their attacks at the pace of recent years.”
“You raise a valid concern. But first, why was I not roused to assist with the wounded? It troubles me that I was sleeping when there was need of my help.”
“Had the need been greater, we would have called for you, but we decided to let you sleep as you have gotten so little rest of late. Between negotiating the new trade agreement with Rohan and trying to make Thranduil see reason …. I’m just glad you and Erestor deal with those matters. I would much rather fight a pack of uruk-hai any day than try to be a diplomat! Erestor seems to think swords at the conference table are not appropriate!” The first smile to grace his face this day appeared in response to his own joke. “Come, let us enjoy our breakfast before the next crisis is upon us.”
Moving toward their table, Elladan looked back at his grandfather “Rest assured we would have called for you had the situation demanded it. You and Erestor earned a night off, so fret not.” He looked down at his plate to hide a smirk upon hearing the aggravated huff from Celeborn.
“So, when is Legolas expected to arrive? I hope he had some success in reasoning with his father. I have my doubts. Some days I think teaching a warg to sing would be an easier task. …Did I mention how happy I am that you and Erestor handle those duties!” he teased. “Anyway, I reminded the morning patrol to be on the watch for his party. You know how many groups approaching Imladris from that direction have been attacked of late.” A grimace darkened Elladan’s features as he offered the last.
“Yes, a growing problem we must work to resolve. As for your desire to avoid matters of diplomacy and trade, you and your brother will have to involve yourselves in these matters at some point. Since your father went west, you are the Lord of this realm. Though ‘Lorien is only a shadow of its former self these last centuries, your twin is still my heir. The two of you should be leading these talks, not Erestor and me,” the silver haired elf stated.
“I am afraid that Elrohir and I did not inherit you or our father’s abilities to survive long, endless hours of talk. We spent too many years in the saddle in our youth to be able to sit for long behind a conference table or a desk. I suggest you continue to encourage Seere to become your next counsellor and give up on the two of us. She seems to have inherited Erestor’s skills and maybe she will yet overcome our bad influence.” /Thankfully she does not seem to have inherited her mother’s rash and impulsive nature. I doubt Erestor would survive losing her too./
“While my daughter will no doubt become a fine counsellor, she is not the Lord of Imladris. Unless you plan to abdicate in her favor, I am afraid you cannot avoid your destiny, conference tables and desks included.”
Both Elladan and Celeborn looked up to see Erestor entering the dining hall, a rare smile on his lips. “Your other choice is to marry her and make her your regent. Considering you and your twin look upon my daughter as your ‘little sister’, you might find abdication less objectionable than near incest.”
Smiling at the slightly green tinge that had crept into his grandson’s complexion, Celeborn could not resist continuing the attack. “Thank you, melon-nin. You raise a vital and long neglected issue. Is it not high time for both you and your brother to stop ‘sowing your oats’ and settle down with a mate?” he commented, enjoying the growing discomfort in his grandson’s features.
“I dare to hope there may yet be progress in that regard, dear Celeborn,” Erestor continued. “Unless I am mistaken, our young heir has been spending quite a lot of time helping in the Healing House of late, notably since a certain lovely young healer joined the staff. I think her name is Azeriel. Why Elladan, you are blushing! I did not think that was possible any more.”
“Indeed, I did not either! Tell me what you know about her, Erestor. You seem to have struck a nerve in our fearless one. I am intrigued,” the Lord of Lorien insisted, trying hard not to laugh.
“Yes, her name is indeed Azeriel and, yes my brother has been spending a LOT of time in the Healing House this past year.” All looked up to see Elrohir lounging in the doorway, a wicked grin on his face. “Also, walking in the gardens after dinner, strolling along the river by moonlight…. I seem to remember now that he was not alone.”
Smirking, he pushed away from the door frame and mover further into the room. “Of course, I am sure he is only trying to learn more about medicinal herbs and their uses. Adar would be so pleased to see his growing interest in this topic as he was never able to illicit one himself.”
Before he could say more, a gentle hand settled on his shoulder from behind. “Stop teasing him Elrohir or I will be forced to point out that you spent an unusual amount of time with your dress this morning. One may wonder why? Is there someone you wish to impress? Humm? Who might be arriving today that merits such attention?” Pausing the speaker’s eyes cut to Elladan before continuing, “But you do raise a good point about Elladan’s sudden ‘desire’ to become a healer. He did seem most dedicated last evening, did he not?”
Celeborn and Erestor shared a grin as the twin’s glares turned in unison to the room’s newest occupant. Seere had arrived. /Put the three of them in the same room for two seconds and their inner elfling is sure to appear!/ Celeborn thought. Suddenly, the great hall did not seem quite as empty as it did on his arrival.
*****
Listening with half an ear to the bantering of the others, Erestor settled back with his cup of tea to study his daughter. He was once again struck by how much she favored her naneth.
/Has it really been over 750 years since she disappeared? Without Seere, I do not think I would have survived the loss; she was so young to loose her naneth and to not know why… 750 years and it still consumes me. What could have been so important that she felt the need to pursue it with only three members of her guard leaving our daughter to the protection of the rest? 750 years and still no answers, no clue of her fate, though logic tells me she is lost to me. …Answers? Would answers give me peace or make the pain worse?/ Erestor mused for the countless time.
/Enough brooding over questions that have no answers. I need to talk to Seere. She looks tired and drawn, as if she carries a heavy weight about her shoulders. Has she had another vision, her eyes have that far away look to them… or do dreams plague her nights? I will talk to Celeborn once breakfast is over. Perhaps he knows what haunts her, thought I doubt he would fail to tell me if she had talked to him. It looks at if she has been crying and clearly, she slept poorly. In some ways, it was so much easier when she was an elfling; she came to me with everything./
/She has always seemed older than her years, even as a babe before Laurea … I think she seeks to protect me from more worry, but it is a parents job to worry about their child, no matter her age. Her silences worry me more than knowing what burdens her ever could. Indeed, iel nin, a talk is in order./ (my daughter)