Jealousy In Silver

Part Four

So Lindir found his home amongst the dwarven brothers. Thrin had been correct in his assumption that his brethren would consent to shelter the elf, despite the initial grumblings of protest. After all, what use would an elf be to the sturdy miners, particularly such a fragile-seeming one?

Yet, after he felt well enough to move about, Lindir quickly made himself useful. While he had no love for mining or spending long periods of time in the deeper caves, he could cook and clean and even learned to mend clothing. Occasionally he foraged for food beyond the stone walls he now lived within. The dwarves all cautioned him to be wary, for there was no telling if or when Celebrian might discover his continued existence. However, Lindir was a child of the trees and the stars, and he couldn’t remain beneath the earth for long periods without feeling a painful longing for the world above. Besides, he still had the bear to protect him. The large beast continued to follow him through the woods when he went out to search for food or other things to pass the time.

Lindir also never spoke of the aborted child he had carried for how was he to explain such an abnormality? Thrin never pressed for the reason behind the blood he had found upon the elf’s body; and if he noticed moments where a deep grief and sorrow seemed to press down upon the youth, he spoke nothing of it.

Many years passed.

Celebrian was happy with her life by Lord Elrond’s side. It hadn’t taken long for them to be wed in a lovely ceremony beneath flowering cherry blossoms. She thought of Lindir rarely, and then only with a gloating satisfaction. Her rival was dead, and fate had not seemed to punish her for it.

She had constructed a scrying pool of her own within one of the more neglected gardens. It was not as powerful as that of her mother’s, but it suited her purpose. When she cast her gaze within its silver waters, she found what she wished to see: that her life was perfect and that her ethereal beauty would not diminish. Indeed, she needed not the scrying pool to flatter her ego; for in this realm of darkly-cast elves she was like a radiant beam of light to which all looked upon her and praised. Celebrian likened herself to be a queen in all but name. She had everything she wanted…

…until Lord Elrond expressed the wish for a child of his own. Celebrian had not entertained the thought of becoming a mother before this, but slowly the idea grew on her. A child, a little girl, of her own whom she could mold and shape into an image of her choosing; the thought pleased her. However, it seemed pregnancy eluded her as it had her mother before her. She tried all sorts of herbals, spells, and concoctions; some with her husband’s assistance and some of a darker nature that she didn’t dare speak with her lord about. She wasn’t about to beg the Valar for the gift of a child; not when she undoubtedly incurred their disfavor by killing her own brother. Briefly she wondered if her childlessness was indeed some sort of punishment for her actions, but that thought quickly fled as, nearly one hundred years after her marriage to Lord Elrond, she finally discovered she carried a child.

~~~

One night Lindir fled the confines of the cave to bask in the gentle glow of the moon beside a silver waterfall. This was one of his favorite places to retreat to, either by day or by night. Whether bathed in gold or silver, this clearing with its vibrant trees and gentle roaring of the falls always filled Lindir’s heart with song; coaxing sweet melodies to pour forth from his lips into the vibrant air around him. He could forget about his past, of his incessant love for a handsome elven healer, of his sister’s treachery, and let his mind flow with the moment. This particular night he lay upon one of the smooth rocks near the water’s edge, watching the stars shine brightly overhead, and singing softly in a voice that seemed to only enhance the beauty of the dimly lit darkness.

Suddenly, the sound of something lumbering through the wood on the opposite bank reached his ears, as well as a whisper of warning from the trees. Lindir rose to crouch warily upon the stone. He knew his ursine companion was somewhere about, and he suspected the noise originated from the huge bear, but the added warning from the trees made him cautious.

The fact that the bear has remained by his side all these years was not lost on him. The large protective creature should have died from old age long before, and the fact that it still looked as hale and healthy as when he first encountered it only reaffirmed his belief that the bear was sent by a higher power. It was a thought that often brought him comfort during times when his heart turned heavy.

Finally, from where the mist curled slowly upon the opposite bank the bear emerged from the undergrowth. It moved straight towards Lindir, crossing the stream with ease. The large creature paused beside the rock where the crouched elf sat and gave him an unreadable look. Then it turned its head to look back in the direction it had come.

At that moment a tall elf stepped from the shadows of the trees. The stranger made no sound as he moved. In one hand he carried a long sword, still dripping with a black ichor. Dark stains showed upon his surcoat, and a long tear rent through his cloak, yet he didn’t appear to have taken injury; he was merely short of breath from both an earlier fight and the hard run up the forested mountain slope.

The stranger stepped further into the moonlight, revealing tousled black hair framing a familiar chiseled face. Lindir blinked in surprise as he recognized the tall elf. It was the one who had stolen his heart so many years ago, and still unknowingly held it in his keeping.

Lord Elrond sucked in a breath at the sight of the stunning creature bathed in the silver moonlight, poised as if to flee. He had been returning home from visiting the Golden Wood, and he had decided to make the journey on his own with only a small group of guards. He had thought the way safe enough; however they had encountered a small band of orcs upon the road north whom they had been forced to dispatch. The last beast had been particularly difficult to kill as it wound through the trees, maddeningly evading the elven lord’s sword until he was finally able to catch it while climbing over a treacherous rockfall.

After slaying gibbering orc, he had started to turn back towards his camp; however he had been caught off-guard by the sight of a large bear watching him from the shadows. He might have turned to leave in spite of that, only with more caution, but he had the impression that the creature wished for him to follow.

Perhaps this is but a dream, Elrond thought as he gazed upon the sylvan creature; and little could he guess that the thought was echoed by the other. He barely noticed that the bear disappeared into the forest so enrapt was he with this vision. The elf slid down the side of the steep rock to the grassy knoll on the opposite bank, silver hair and pale skin glowing in the moonlight. He made no move to come closer, yet neither did he flee the elven lord. It was strange how familiar the elf seemed; like a matured version of the youthful creature who had died all those years before.

Lindir watched as Lord Elrond stepped forward once more, moving to the edge of the stream where a path of stones made a bridge across the swiftly flowing waters. It took only moments for him to cross to the other side, and before Lindir knew it, the dark elven lord was before him.

Elrond reached up to brush his fingers against the young elf’s cheek. “What are you?” he asked in a whisper as though afraid this vision would break apart before him.

“A ghost,” Lindir replied in the same breathless tone. He was scared, so scared, of what was occurring. Here was his dream standing before him, yet fate had dealt him a cruel hand, and the one his heart yearned for was no doubt wed to his malevolent sibling – a sister who would just as soon cut out that heart should she discover that he yet lived. He knew that he should flee from the stormy grey eyes which gazed upon him in both wonder and desire, but could not make his feet move away.

“I am merely a spirit,” Lindir continued, and willed it that Lord Elrond would believe it to be so. “I have been given form for a single night that I may know my heart’s desire.”

The hand that had brushed Lindir’s cheek moved to stroke pale hair while the sword in the elf lord’s other dropped to the grass with a dull sound. Then, so overcome was he both with this vision and with the last dregs of heat from the battle still flowing through his veins that Lord Elrond suddenly fell upon the youth in a burst of passion. He held no thought of the guards waiting for him below, nor of the wife he would be returning to. This all seemed too much of a dream, and his mind numbed to all else but the beauty before him.

For a single moment Lindir remained motionless under the onslaught; startled by the sudden intensity of Lord Elrond’s desire. However, the shock quickly melted away until the young elf allowed himself to sink into the fiery embrace. Despite his singular experience with the guard all those years before, he was still an innocent. Yet he made no protest when his long tunic was slipped from his body, and only blushed shyly when his breeches soon followed. He had wanted to know the elven lord’s touch since that moment in the gardens on the evening of his majority celebration. Now he couldn’t stop the tears from forming in his eyes as he recalled all that could never be.

Yet I will take all that I can from this moment, he told himself fiercely, pushing away all sorrow. This would be his single act of defiance against the one who despised him so.

He allowed himself to be lowered down onto the thick grass damp with dew, although he barely felt the cool wetness over the heat which moved above him. He watched as Lord Elrond removed the blood-stained surcoat, casting it aside with barely a glance. The entirety of the elven lord’s gaze was focused on the pale beauty lying pliantly beneath him; pliant, but with silver eyes that spoke of hunger and need.

The rest passed as though it was indeed but a dream. Lindir allowed the older elf to claim him; the youth clothed in nothing but moonlight while Lord Elrond remained clad in his pale shirt and dark breeches. He expected pain, but so ardently did the elven lord lay claim to his body that Lindir found only pleasure when he was finally breeched upon the forest floor. He held to his lover as long as he could, desperately gripping the tanned flesh even as the stars seemed to tremble overhead and his body shattered into nothing.

When it was over he watched through sated eyes as his elven lord collapsed to one side, drifting into a shallow sleep. With care Lindir stood, gathered his clothes, and with one feather-light kiss to Lord Elrond’s smooth brow, departed the glade.

It was several days after his encounter at the waterfall, while Lindir was preparing supper for himself and the dwarf brothers, when he felt a strange sensation from deep within. He paused in his preparations and automatically rested his hands upon his abdomen. It was then that he felt it, like the barest whisper of thought. It was life; however, instead of the horror he had felt the last time he had been told that he would conceive a child, a sense of blissful serenity settled over him. The child would be a living memory of the single night he had spent with his love, and he would cherish it with all his heart.

He hadn’t told the dwarves what had happened, and his abnormal physiology had yet to be revealed. Soon he would have no choice but to tell them, and hope that they accepted this aberration else he be forced to find another place to dwell. He would do all that was within his power to keep this child safe from harm.

~~~

Spring passed into summer, and then into a warm autumn. Celebrian gathered her maids and a group of soldiers together to travel to the golden wood. She wished to be with her parents during the birth of her child. Lord Elrond expressed misgivings over her making such an arduous journey so late in her pregnancy, but she remained insistent. As her husband had pressing business to attend to, he could not escort her, but promised to join her in her parent’s realm shortly before the baby was due so that he might aid in their child’s birth.

Celebrian arrived at her destination with no undue stress, and settled in comfortably with her parents. It wasn’t long before she found herself back in her mother’s garden, passing the scrying pool with a hungry gaze. With one hand resting on her swollen belly she leaned over the silver bowl, already filled with water from the rains which had fallen shortly before. She only sought to comfort herself with its words; to confirm her beauty and desirability. However, the image which revealed itself to her caused so great a shock that she stumbled, barely catching herself from falling to the hard loam. It was with great effort that she lifted herself from the ground, climbing the edge of the stone alter for support, and peered once more into the silver bowl. Her fears were confirmed. She saw her brother, whom she had thought long dead, now heavy with child and protected by several dwarves. She snorted under her breath, thinking cruelly that her rival must have slept with his stout companions to have achieved such a parturient state. Yet the pool seemed to respond to her callous thoughts and showed her the child’s true conception, along with her husband’s willing participation.

It was with a scream of fury that she shoved herself away from the shining pool; however, she didn’t see the rocky verge until her foot caught its edge, causing her to stumble once more. This time she wasn’t able to catch herself. She fell heavily, her breath flying from her as she landed. She remained motionless upon the ground, a sliver of fear worming its way through her body. After several moments of silence she shifted to rise, but was brought up short by a ripple of pain which fluttered through her abdomen.

It is nothing, she reassured herself, but that didn’t stop the panic from building, nor the pain from increasing until her belly cramped with such agony that all she could do was curl upon herself with a vicious howl. It was still too early for the babe to be born, and she realized with sudden fear that she could no longer feel the spark of life from within.

It was there that one of the guards found her. He rushed to her side as she panted through the intense contractions. “My lady! We must take you to the healer!”

“No!” Celebrian reached up and grasped the guard’s tunic, tightening his collar with a ferocity that left him choking. Vaguely she realized that this was the same guard she had bribed all those years before to steal her brother’s innocence. “There is no time! You must help me!”

The guard looked doubtful as he attempted to loosen her hands, but was unable to do so for so great was her distress. He had no choice but to acquiesce before she caused him to cease breathing altogether. Gasping for air, he assisted Celebrian to rise, and under her direction assisted her towards a more secluded part of the gardens.

It was there in the shadows of a rocky alcove that the lifeless child was born, its bloody body appearing twisted and deformed and the birth cord wrapped tightly around its neck. The guard looked upon the babe in horror, and even Celebrian couldn’t keep an expression of revulsion from crossing her lips. For all her struggles to come to this; she feared her husband’s sadness at the loss, but more than that, this was a failure to herself. Certainly she was beautiful to look upon, but to be unsuccessful at producing an heir… Upon realizing that she was unable to bring forth a child would her husband eventually seek out a more fecund elf to satisfy his desire for progeny? Would she be cast aside?

“Take the thing and bury it,” she ordered the guard. Her voice was still as hard as steel despite her pain and exhaustion. “If you value your life you will tell no one what has happened. Come back to me when you have finished your task.”

The guard gingerly took the lifeless body away, and while he was gone Celebrian considered her options. What possibly galled her most was the knowledge that while her babe had died, the child of her rival would likely be born hale and whole.

I should seek to kill him and the child, for once again my brother seeks to take from me what is mine. The thought held merit, although such recourse would have to wait until her body recovered from this failed birth. And yet, perhaps something could be salvaged from this situation, she considered, seeing her brother and his child in her mind’s eye. By the time the guard returned to assist Celebrian back to her rooms, she was almost smiling as a new plot began to take form.

~~~

He had told himself that his child would not be born from the darkness of his strange womb into the shadows of the cave where Lindir dwelled. He wished that the first sight the babe would see would not be a stone roof, but the stars shining brightly overhead. It was with those thoughts in mind that Lindir stepped forth from the cave mouth, pausing occasionally as contractions eased across his belly. There was no midwife to assist with the birthing – and even a midwife would have likely balked in uncertainty. Only the dwarven healer Thrin was there to aid him, even though he was doubtful over what sort of aid he could provide.

When they had first discovered his anomaly, it was met with a dubious concern. Had they not already become his family and grown to care for the wayward elf, they might have looked at him in a more negative light. They did try to persuade him to return to his own kind, for they knew nothing of bringing forth a child. Such things were exclusively a female concern amongst their kind. Yet Lindir remained where he was; he was still an outcast and now had more than his own life to protect from his sister’s madness. It had been so long since he had heard or seen any sign of her; he did not know whether she still thought him dead and somehow the fact that he was still alive had managed to escape her notice, or if she had simply ceased to care.

He made it out of the cave and towards the clearing he had chosen some weeks prior. The stars shone brightly, much to Lindir’s delight. When they entered the clearing the bear emerged from the trees to meet them making concerned noises as Lindir lay down upon the mossy ground. The elf only smiled weakly between his belly’s contractions and buried his hand into the thick ruff at the bear’s neck.

The birthing went easier than any could have expected, and after several long hours it was not one babe but two who greeted the starlit world. Both had black hair and grey eyes that left no doubt as to the identity of their father. After cleaning them of any remaining blood and vernix, Lindir cradled them close to his heart and closed his eyes wearily as his body healed from the effects of conception. A whispered lullaby emerged from his lips as he lay there; a song he recalled being sung to him by his own mother. He barely noticed when Thrin returned to the caves to let the others know of the successful birth, leaving the dozing elf in the care of his protective ursine companion.

The dwarf wasn’t gone long before the bear lifted his head with a concerned grunt. Taking care not to disturb the tired elf, he moved to the edge of the starlit clearing. A slight breeze blew high through the trees and all was quiet but for a nightbird singing in the far distance. The bear threw his head upwards, casting about as he tried to seek the scent of whatever it was that bothered him so, but it remained elusive to his senses.

Suddenly he let out a bellow of pain as an arrow flew from the trees and pierced his side. Lindir jerked awake at the sound, letting out a sharp cry of his own. The sound and abrupt movement disturbed his twin babes, eliciting harsh sounds of discontent from their tiny mouths. As Lindir fearfully watched the bear charged into the forest, leaving him alone with the whispering trees. They spoke of unexpected danger approaching. The young elf began to rise, knowing that he should return to the cave at once. While he was concerned over the state of his guardian, and hoped the bear’s injury was not serious, he knew that he could do nothing at the moment but seek to safeguard his newborn children.

Yet he had barely managed to struggle to his feet, still weak from the effects of birthing, before a figure stepped from the trees clothed in a hunter’s garb. It was his sister.

“What do you want?” Lindir asked in a trembling voice as he took a backward step.

“Is it not obvious?” Celebrian asked with a malicious smile. “I want what you have stolen from me.”

Lindir paled at that, knowing that in some sense what she said was true; however, she had stolen more from him than she could ever properly atone for. The youth clutched his babes tighter to his body. “Why can you not leave me in peace? What have I ever done to incur your hatred for me?”

“You were born,” she said simply. Celebrian moved to close the distance between them. Lindir turned to run, knowing that fighting would be nigh impossible with his arms full of their precious burden. Yet in his weakened state he was unable to flee quickly enough. He felt the lady grasp his arm with biting fingers, using his momentum to fling him back towards her body. He attempted to shout for help, but his voice was muffled by a firm hand closing over his mouth with a bruising force. The hand gripping his arm dropped away. Lindir tried to use that moment to break free with his now screaming children; however, before he could do so he felt something sharp prick the back of his neck: it was the long, hollow thorn from the fireberry bush coated with a poison that even elves were not immune to.

Lindir turned and stared at his sister with wide, fearful eyes. He could feel the poison enter his body and leave a cold numbness in its wake that he was unable to fight. When the feeling reached his arms he cried out loudly, terrified that he could drop his weeping babes. Yet Celebrian was waiting and she swept the twins up onto her own arms as he collapsed to his knees.

“Please don’t do this!” Lindir cried as tears flowed down his cheeks. He struggled to rise and fight, but the numbness was spreading faster. He could only watch as Celebrian cruelly smiled down upon him, and then turned to disappear back into the forest with the twins crying loudly in her arms.

By the time Thrin arrived with the other dwarves, Lindir was lying collapsed upon the grass, skin cold and pale and eyes staring vacantly. He appeared to be dead but from no discernible cause. Of the twin babes they could find no sign, for elvenkind rarely left traces of their passing. They searched the forest, and all they found was the body of the bear lying dead within the wood, hide pierced by arrows and head severed from its body.

Dwarves rarely wept, but they shed more than a few tears for the senseless loss of their elven and ursine companions. Thrin particularly was set upon by both grief and guilt. He told himself that he never should have left the elf alone in such a vulnerable state, even with the capable bear as a guard and protector.

Together they built a coffin of stone within the clearing he loved so much. Since they could not allow themselves to hide his sad beauty from the world, they fashioned a cover from pieces of the clearest crystals they could find. The body of the bear they took and made a thick fur blanket of its hide on which Lindir’s body could lie. The elf they clothed in a white belted tunic and suede boots, making him appear all the more youthful and innocent. The preparations were done with great solemnity, and when they finished their construction it appeared that Lindir was merely watching the bright stars revolving overhead rather than lying in death.