The Music in My Heart
folder
Lord of the Rings Movies › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
75
Views:
3,812
Reviews:
11
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Lord of the Rings Movies › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
75
Views:
3,812
Reviews:
11
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Lord of the Rings book series and movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Chapter 60 Three Things That Last
Title: The Music in My Heart*, Chapter 60
Author: Sorsha
Fandom/Pairing: Elrond/OFC, Glorfindel/Haldir, Elladan/OFC, Elrohir/Legolas, others implied
Rating: R
Warning: AU (Story set 770 years after ROTK; Slash and het.
Feedback: This is my first fanfic, so constructive feedback appreciated.
Archive: AAF; FF
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 60 --- Three Things That Last
"There are in the end three things that last: faith, hope, and love, and the greatest of these is love."
1 Corinthians 13:13
*****
An uneasy silence had settled over the company as their destination came into view. As they emerged from the steep, rocky pass through the mountains, their horses pulled up and refused to go any further. A collective shudder ran through the riders as they gazed out over the barren landscape that stretched out before them.
The only apparent signs of life were the stunted, half-dead banyan trees and clumps of sickly spartina grass. No birds or other wildlife were seen for as far as an elven eye could see. The standing pools of water gave off an eerie, greenish glow and a putrid smelling haze hung low over the flat land. A dry wind cut across the open plain whipping their cloaks about their bodies, yet the same wind failed to cause a ripple of movement in the silent surface of the stagnant water. Nothing had changed in all the long years since huge armies had clashed on the once arid plain and dark magic had twisted… marred the landscape for its own evil purpose.
Seere stared out across the Dead Marshes listening. /This is the place in my dreams! I hear the voices calling and moaning their pain. Their anguish is so old! I hear them Ereinion… this is the place your memory… your ancient grief!/
Turning in the saddle, she met Elrond’s eyes. She was not surprised to see tears streaming down his cheeks. “Meleth, do you hear them?” she whispered. (beloved)
Closing his eyes as the grief washed over his fëa, Elrond nodded his head, incapable in that moment of answering. The cries for help, for relief… for loved ones… for peace rang in his head, some of the voices achingly familiar.
Awash in the memories that had long tortured his heart, Elrond whispered a silent prayer of thanks to the Valar. /Galu am i Elbereth! You told me I would know my task when the time came and I no longer have any doubts of what you want of us! I am humbled by this honor. I was worried we had misunderstood the purpose of the dreams you sent us. Long have these voices haunted my nights. Elbereth, please give us the strength to see this through./ (Blessings upon the Star-lady!)
Caught in his spiraling emotions, Elrond did not at first realize Seere was trying to get down from his horse. He had grudgingly accepted her determination to accompany them to Dagorlad, but he had insisted she ride with him until her knee was completely healed. /She’s crying too! Melme, I would shield you from this pain if I could! I wish you had stayed at the garrison… but I understand the need that drove you here./ (love)
Swiping the back of his hand across his face, he swung down from the Kaane’s back and helped ease her to her feet, taking care not to jar her injured knee. She reached up to wipe away the tears he had missed and cradled his face between her hands. “You have no guilt in this, Elrond. The guilt lies with Sauron… and Morgoth before him. Praise the Valar we have been given this task! They have not been forgotten and their cries… ours cries have been heard.” Seere smiled up at her love with a radiant joy, a joy that shown through her tears.
Steadied by her certainty, renewed confidence found his fëa. Nodding his head in understanding, he pulled her into a tight embrace, oblivious to the interest the others were taking in their actions. Silently, they drew strength from each other as they readied themselves for the task before them.
With a deep breath and a quick kiss to her upturned lips, Elrond released her. He wrapped his arm firmly around her waist and helped her toward the edge of the nearest pool. His encircling arm tightened as he heard her pained gasp. Staring down into the murky water, he saw what had upset his indomitable Seere.
The upper portion of an ancient elven warrior was visible amongst the dense growth of marsh grass, still clad in the blue and silver armor of Gil-Galad’s army. The elf’s face was pinched and drawn with pain. Though no movement disturbed the pool’s stillness, unseen currents undulated across his features, the green glow that surrounded him adding to the nightmarish quality of the scene.
Unbidden, the memory of a young archer from Lorien came to her mind. /He used to sing by the campfire at night and was a friend of Lindir. I can hear his voice still… except the sweet sound of his singing is now a pained cry for help!/
“Lalai!” Looking toward the cry, she saw Celeborn drop to his knees and stare at a face he had not seen in over four thousand years, the face of one of his own people. Haldir’s hand settled on his Ada’s shoulder in silent comfort, in silent support. A single tear slid down his ashen face. Lindir moved to the two Lorien elves, likewise grieved to see he old friend’s face. (Mirth)
Closing her eyes to regain her composure, Seere cleared her mind of all but the gentle voice of comfort that had whispered to their hearts, guiding them in this place. /What must we do, my Lady? Elbereth, please guide us./
In the utter quiet of the desolate plain, she heard it --- the song of life, the song of the light, the song of Eru Ilúvatar… the voices of the Valar whispered to her heart! Feeling Elrond’s gaze, she looked up to meet his eyes. In a voice choked with emotion, she exclaimed, “I understand at last how we accomplish our task, nîn ind! By the Valar, Lindir, you were right! It is the Song!” (my heart)
Seeing the minstrel’s nod of understanding, Seere turned back to Elrond. He too had heard the singing. She saw in his eyes his own building excitement; they would do this! Stepping to the edge of the marsh, he gently eased her to the hard, rocky ground. Kneeling beside her, they gently placed their hands, palms down and fingers extended, on the surface of the water. Their touch caused only a faint shimmer to the still pool. The cries of the trapped spirits screaming in agony thundered in their heads, quickly growing unbearable.
With great effort, they cleared their thoughts of everything, but the voices of the Valar. Seere felt Elrond’s fëa brush against her own as they opened their hearts to Elbereth’s call. Without conscious thought, they began to sing… their voices calling to the Valar, offering praise to the One.
The brush of her Ada’s fëa warmed their own as his voice entered the singing. Joy and hope built in their hearts as, one by one, their family and friends… the warriors of their guard, elf, dwarf, and man alike, took up the singing, an alliance now focused not on making war, but celebrating life.
Brilliant lights of gold and silver hues began to dance over the surface of the marsh. A gentle breeze stirred the surface of the water. Hope, faith, love --- the very substance of their song, echoed across the barren landscape
Slowly, new voices and a new song were heard. Their offering of song, in a place that had only known the dark for more than an Age of the world, had been heard --- and, suddenly, the song of the One filled the air. The voices of the expedition slowly drifted away as the power and beauty of the ancient song overwhelmed their senses. Louder and louder, the voices of the Valar were heard as they sang the song of creation and called to the fëar of the children of Eru Ilúvatar.
A sound, like the shattering of glass, tore over the marsh. A rippling sigh, as if from many voices finding comfort and an end to their ancient pain, drifted over the sudden silence. The surface of the marsh frothed with motion as a bright light pulsed beneath. Points of silver and gold light rose from the water, hovered for a moment like thousands of stars come down to Arda… and then were gone in a flash of blinding light.
Instinctively, the assembled shielded their eyes against the sudden burst of intense light. As their sight gradually returned, they slowly dropped their arms or turned their heads back to view the now quiet marsh. The sight before them shocked their already overcharged senses.
*****
Standing alone or in small groups, hundreds of warriors of the Last Alliance stood alive and hale, scattered across the dry land of the once Dead Marshes. Bright smiles wreathed the faces of the men, dwarves, and elves. Their armor gleamed like new in the noonday sun. Without a word spoken, they turned and began to walk toward their stunned kin.
One warrior with pale golden hair and sage green eyes, garbed in the livery of Greenwood caught Elrond’s eye. “Oropher!”
Hearing his name, the former king of Mirkwood, turned to look in the direction of his long-time nemesis. A broad smile spread across his face as he approached the High King’s Herald. “Mae govannen, Elrond. Did you think you had seen the last of me?” (Well met…)
Before he could find his wits to respond, a disturbance behind him drew their attention. Both elves turned to see Legolas, swaying on his feet and supported by Elrohir as he starred at the King. A gasped, “Adar’ra?” caused Oropher to smile and observe, “It seems there is much you have to tell me… yeah, Tercáno?” (Herald)
*****
Elrond felt a smile begin to tug at his lips. Reaching down to assist Seere to her feet, he realized she was still focused on the waters of the marsh. Following her gaze, he noted that a green light was still shimmering in the murky waters, its glow greatly diminished from its previous intensity. “Seere?”
“There are still dead trapped in the mist of Sauron’s magic,” the elleth whispered.
“Just the cursed Yrch! Let them rot in the prison of their master’s making!” exclaimed Oropher. (orcs)
“Some of these Yrck were once elves, firstborn of Arda. Morgoth… then Sauron corrupted their fëar, but some of them may once have been our kindred. You who spent so long trapped in the evil of this enchantment would deny them the chance to be reclaimed from the dark?” she asked, her voice made rough with emotion.
Without waiting for an answer, Seere again stretched her hands out across the surface of the water. “The lady of the stars speaks to me and bids me call to you in her name. You who were once elves, firstborn children of Eru before evil corrupted you and turned you to the dark are called home.”
Seere’s voice took on a questioning tone. “Hear you not the song of our creator? Only his light can free you of the darkness that now binds you fëar. Accept this gift, for his love is yours freely to receive. But… as we are all creatures of free will… the choice is and always will be yours. You must decide.”
The surface of the marsh began to ripple as the deeper waters began to churn. Anguished screams of pain and anger rocked the air and the ground under their feet, driving many of those along the banks to their knees. As the screams died away, a few dim points of light emerged from the seething waters. They hung suspended in the air for a few minutes… as if listening.
As the assembled watched, these lights began to brighten as the last of the dark receded. One more time, the song of life sounded clearly for all to hear in a joyous crescendo as the Valar celebrated these few children of the Ilúvatar returned to their care. A bright light exploded before them. As their sight returned, they saw that the glimmering lights had disappeared.
Violent tremors from the depths of the marsh churned the surface. The dim green light shuddered and shivered, as if fighting an unseen force. A loud shriek of fury and pain rent the still air of the marsh... and the green light winked out and disappeared forever as the last of the corrupted ones were swept into the Void. The waters of the marsh again stilled, save for a few gentle ripples moving in response to the wind’s caress.
The Dead Marshes were, at long last, at peace.
*****
Seere became aware that she was still sitting on the bank of the healing lake held fast in Elrond’s embrace. She did not remember starting to cry, but she found herself racked by sobs as long suppressed pain demanded release. Elrond’s gentle whispers of comfort, the soft caress of his hands on her back began to ease the storm of her emotions. Pulling away just enough to look up into his eyes, she realized he had cried with her. The guilt and despair of four thousand years had lain heavy upon them both.
*****
Uncomfortable with the fact that they were the center of attention for a large audience, Elrond and Seere finally pulled apart and struggled to rise to their feet. A gentle hand was placed on Elrond’s arm to pull him to his feet. Likewise, the same gentle hands reached down to lift the injured Seere... supported her until she found her balance. Both found themselves owing thanks to a smiling Oropher.
Before more could be said, Glorfindel demanded, “Would someone please tell me what just happened?” A shaking Haldir stood leaning into his mate’s embrace, tears flowing down his smiling face.
Relieved to have something to focus his mind, Elrond began, “This was the task the Valar sent us to undertake on their behalf. The dead… and wounded…” He paused to look at the Mirkwood elf to confirm the latter. Seeing him nod, Elrond continued. “…of the Battle of Dagorlad were trapped by an evil enchantment of Sauron’s… most likely one that came to him from Morgoth. None of the dead were able to go on to Mandos Hall. The men and dwarves could not then follow the path of the mortal dead and the elves were denied the chance to be rehoused. The wounded were likewise trapped with the dead.”
“By touching the water, Seere and I created a connection for those trapped in the marshes to again hear the Valar sing the song of life… to hear the call of the One. I suspect our shared Maiar heritage gifted us with just enough Ainur magic so that we could create this link. The power of the song was stronger than the evil that enslaved them, and the dead fëar have been freed to follow their destiny. I am assuming the wounded were trapped by the enchantment before we could find them for care, and have endured a sort of half-life, half-death existence. These are the ones that stand with us now. Am I right in this Oropher?”
“Aye, as always, Tercáno. I see your being the one with all the answers has not changed… no matter how long I am gone,” Oropher teased. “May I ask… just how long that was?” (Herald)
Giddy with relief, Elrond grinned. “I see that your wishing to mock my dedication to knowledge has not changed either.”
“And I see you two must still be separated like elflings if peace is to be maintained!” a tired Seere quipped. Seeing the shocked faces turned her way, “What?”
Before anyone could answer, Oropher stepped closer to the exhausted elleth and stared hard into her eyes, as if trying to see into her very fëa. After a few seconds, a startled gasp left his throat as a stunned expression settled on his face. “May I ask to be introduced to the lady that seems so central to our release? Such a lovely maiden is indeed a sight for sore eyes!”
“I am Seere, daughter of Lord Erestor,” she began.
“And, my betrothed. We will marry once we return to Imladris for the Winter Festival,” a miffed Elrond added, reaching over to slide a possessive arm around her waist.
Oropher’s laughter surprised them all. “Indeed, some things never change! And some change in the most intriguing ways!”
Seeing the confused and, in some cases, angry looks he was getting, Oropher turned to the other warriors returned with him from the prison of the Dead Marshes. “Am I the only one to see who stands before us?”
After a few seconds of scrutiny by the group, several gasps were heard and a few slow smiles began to show themselves. “Ah, I see I am not.”
Silently, he seemed to ask a question and receive his answer if the unanimous nods from his brethren were properly read. Turning back, he smiled at Seere and executed a precise formal bow in her honor --- a move duplicated by the rest.
Confused, Seere looked toward Elrond and Erestor… then Celeborn and Glorfindel, seeking an explanation for their behavior. Tired of Oropher’s grandstanding, Celeborn demanded “What are you on about?”
“Simple, my dear Celeborn. We, who have lived in the enchantment of these marshes, have grown accustomed to seeing not a body, but the fëa. We still can.”
Turning back to Seere, he continued, “I have withheld the honor you are due for far too long. The Valar warned us that the battle with the dark has yet to be finished before we chose to return to Middle-earth rather than go the way of the dead. We realize unity of purpose is vital. The Last Alliance was hampered by less than total allegiance to our cause. I was a chief contributor to the dissention. I will not allow my wounded pride… my anger over unrequited love to do that again.”
Squaring his shoulders, he concluded, “Therefore, I pledge to you my alliance, my king.” That said, he repeated his bow.
Stunned by this speech, Elrond stared at the elf. Finally, he asked, “I do realize you may still be in shock from your ordeal, Oropher, but you do realize Seere is an elleth, not an ellon, do you not?”
“Oh, of that I have no doubt! I may have long been in that half-life as you called it, but I am not blind and I do know a beautiful maiden when I see one, Tercáno! But as I said, we can also see and recognize the fëa... something, you clearly can not!” Oropher smirked. (Herald)
Seeing Elrond was about to explode, Erestor broke in, “In that case, tell me whose fëa do you see in my daughter?”
“I see a fëa changed in many respects from being born again an elleth… and your daughter, but retaining much of the character of the original that I knew. Her fëa is rich and complex… having many divergent parts. I have never beheld another like it for the changes are real. Still…”
“Who is you think you see?!”
Looking Seere straight in the eye, he crossed his right arm across his chest in the manner of one warrior paying respect to another. ”I… nay we, see the elven leader of the Last Alliance, the High King of the Noldor… Ereinion Gil-Galad.”
*****
Author: Sorsha
Fandom/Pairing: Elrond/OFC, Glorfindel/Haldir, Elladan/OFC, Elrohir/Legolas, others implied
Rating: R
Warning: AU (Story set 770 years after ROTK; Slash and het.
Feedback: This is my first fanfic, so constructive feedback appreciated.
Archive: AAF; FF
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 60 --- Three Things That Last
"There are in the end three things that last: faith, hope, and love, and the greatest of these is love."
1 Corinthians 13:13
*****
An uneasy silence had settled over the company as their destination came into view. As they emerged from the steep, rocky pass through the mountains, their horses pulled up and refused to go any further. A collective shudder ran through the riders as they gazed out over the barren landscape that stretched out before them.
The only apparent signs of life were the stunted, half-dead banyan trees and clumps of sickly spartina grass. No birds or other wildlife were seen for as far as an elven eye could see. The standing pools of water gave off an eerie, greenish glow and a putrid smelling haze hung low over the flat land. A dry wind cut across the open plain whipping their cloaks about their bodies, yet the same wind failed to cause a ripple of movement in the silent surface of the stagnant water. Nothing had changed in all the long years since huge armies had clashed on the once arid plain and dark magic had twisted… marred the landscape for its own evil purpose.
Seere stared out across the Dead Marshes listening. /This is the place in my dreams! I hear the voices calling and moaning their pain. Their anguish is so old! I hear them Ereinion… this is the place your memory… your ancient grief!/
Turning in the saddle, she met Elrond’s eyes. She was not surprised to see tears streaming down his cheeks. “Meleth, do you hear them?” she whispered. (beloved)
Closing his eyes as the grief washed over his fëa, Elrond nodded his head, incapable in that moment of answering. The cries for help, for relief… for loved ones… for peace rang in his head, some of the voices achingly familiar.
Awash in the memories that had long tortured his heart, Elrond whispered a silent prayer of thanks to the Valar. /Galu am i Elbereth! You told me I would know my task when the time came and I no longer have any doubts of what you want of us! I am humbled by this honor. I was worried we had misunderstood the purpose of the dreams you sent us. Long have these voices haunted my nights. Elbereth, please give us the strength to see this through./ (Blessings upon the Star-lady!)
Caught in his spiraling emotions, Elrond did not at first realize Seere was trying to get down from his horse. He had grudgingly accepted her determination to accompany them to Dagorlad, but he had insisted she ride with him until her knee was completely healed. /She’s crying too! Melme, I would shield you from this pain if I could! I wish you had stayed at the garrison… but I understand the need that drove you here./ (love)
Swiping the back of his hand across his face, he swung down from the Kaane’s back and helped ease her to her feet, taking care not to jar her injured knee. She reached up to wipe away the tears he had missed and cradled his face between her hands. “You have no guilt in this, Elrond. The guilt lies with Sauron… and Morgoth before him. Praise the Valar we have been given this task! They have not been forgotten and their cries… ours cries have been heard.” Seere smiled up at her love with a radiant joy, a joy that shown through her tears.
Steadied by her certainty, renewed confidence found his fëa. Nodding his head in understanding, he pulled her into a tight embrace, oblivious to the interest the others were taking in their actions. Silently, they drew strength from each other as they readied themselves for the task before them.
With a deep breath and a quick kiss to her upturned lips, Elrond released her. He wrapped his arm firmly around her waist and helped her toward the edge of the nearest pool. His encircling arm tightened as he heard her pained gasp. Staring down into the murky water, he saw what had upset his indomitable Seere.
The upper portion of an ancient elven warrior was visible amongst the dense growth of marsh grass, still clad in the blue and silver armor of Gil-Galad’s army. The elf’s face was pinched and drawn with pain. Though no movement disturbed the pool’s stillness, unseen currents undulated across his features, the green glow that surrounded him adding to the nightmarish quality of the scene.
Unbidden, the memory of a young archer from Lorien came to her mind. /He used to sing by the campfire at night and was a friend of Lindir. I can hear his voice still… except the sweet sound of his singing is now a pained cry for help!/
“Lalai!” Looking toward the cry, she saw Celeborn drop to his knees and stare at a face he had not seen in over four thousand years, the face of one of his own people. Haldir’s hand settled on his Ada’s shoulder in silent comfort, in silent support. A single tear slid down his ashen face. Lindir moved to the two Lorien elves, likewise grieved to see he old friend’s face. (Mirth)
Closing her eyes to regain her composure, Seere cleared her mind of all but the gentle voice of comfort that had whispered to their hearts, guiding them in this place. /What must we do, my Lady? Elbereth, please guide us./
In the utter quiet of the desolate plain, she heard it --- the song of life, the song of the light, the song of Eru Ilúvatar… the voices of the Valar whispered to her heart! Feeling Elrond’s gaze, she looked up to meet his eyes. In a voice choked with emotion, she exclaimed, “I understand at last how we accomplish our task, nîn ind! By the Valar, Lindir, you were right! It is the Song!” (my heart)
Seeing the minstrel’s nod of understanding, Seere turned back to Elrond. He too had heard the singing. She saw in his eyes his own building excitement; they would do this! Stepping to the edge of the marsh, he gently eased her to the hard, rocky ground. Kneeling beside her, they gently placed their hands, palms down and fingers extended, on the surface of the water. Their touch caused only a faint shimmer to the still pool. The cries of the trapped spirits screaming in agony thundered in their heads, quickly growing unbearable.
With great effort, they cleared their thoughts of everything, but the voices of the Valar. Seere felt Elrond’s fëa brush against her own as they opened their hearts to Elbereth’s call. Without conscious thought, they began to sing… their voices calling to the Valar, offering praise to the One.
The brush of her Ada’s fëa warmed their own as his voice entered the singing. Joy and hope built in their hearts as, one by one, their family and friends… the warriors of their guard, elf, dwarf, and man alike, took up the singing, an alliance now focused not on making war, but celebrating life.
Brilliant lights of gold and silver hues began to dance over the surface of the marsh. A gentle breeze stirred the surface of the water. Hope, faith, love --- the very substance of their song, echoed across the barren landscape
Slowly, new voices and a new song were heard. Their offering of song, in a place that had only known the dark for more than an Age of the world, had been heard --- and, suddenly, the song of the One filled the air. The voices of the expedition slowly drifted away as the power and beauty of the ancient song overwhelmed their senses. Louder and louder, the voices of the Valar were heard as they sang the song of creation and called to the fëar of the children of Eru Ilúvatar.
A sound, like the shattering of glass, tore over the marsh. A rippling sigh, as if from many voices finding comfort and an end to their ancient pain, drifted over the sudden silence. The surface of the marsh frothed with motion as a bright light pulsed beneath. Points of silver and gold light rose from the water, hovered for a moment like thousands of stars come down to Arda… and then were gone in a flash of blinding light.
Instinctively, the assembled shielded their eyes against the sudden burst of intense light. As their sight gradually returned, they slowly dropped their arms or turned their heads back to view the now quiet marsh. The sight before them shocked their already overcharged senses.
*****
Standing alone or in small groups, hundreds of warriors of the Last Alliance stood alive and hale, scattered across the dry land of the once Dead Marshes. Bright smiles wreathed the faces of the men, dwarves, and elves. Their armor gleamed like new in the noonday sun. Without a word spoken, they turned and began to walk toward their stunned kin.
One warrior with pale golden hair and sage green eyes, garbed in the livery of Greenwood caught Elrond’s eye. “Oropher!”
Hearing his name, the former king of Mirkwood, turned to look in the direction of his long-time nemesis. A broad smile spread across his face as he approached the High King’s Herald. “Mae govannen, Elrond. Did you think you had seen the last of me?” (Well met…)
Before he could find his wits to respond, a disturbance behind him drew their attention. Both elves turned to see Legolas, swaying on his feet and supported by Elrohir as he starred at the King. A gasped, “Adar’ra?” caused Oropher to smile and observe, “It seems there is much you have to tell me… yeah, Tercáno?” (Herald)
*****
Elrond felt a smile begin to tug at his lips. Reaching down to assist Seere to her feet, he realized she was still focused on the waters of the marsh. Following her gaze, he noted that a green light was still shimmering in the murky waters, its glow greatly diminished from its previous intensity. “Seere?”
“There are still dead trapped in the mist of Sauron’s magic,” the elleth whispered.
“Just the cursed Yrch! Let them rot in the prison of their master’s making!” exclaimed Oropher. (orcs)
“Some of these Yrck were once elves, firstborn of Arda. Morgoth… then Sauron corrupted their fëar, but some of them may once have been our kindred. You who spent so long trapped in the evil of this enchantment would deny them the chance to be reclaimed from the dark?” she asked, her voice made rough with emotion.
Without waiting for an answer, Seere again stretched her hands out across the surface of the water. “The lady of the stars speaks to me and bids me call to you in her name. You who were once elves, firstborn children of Eru before evil corrupted you and turned you to the dark are called home.”
Seere’s voice took on a questioning tone. “Hear you not the song of our creator? Only his light can free you of the darkness that now binds you fëar. Accept this gift, for his love is yours freely to receive. But… as we are all creatures of free will… the choice is and always will be yours. You must decide.”
The surface of the marsh began to ripple as the deeper waters began to churn. Anguished screams of pain and anger rocked the air and the ground under their feet, driving many of those along the banks to their knees. As the screams died away, a few dim points of light emerged from the seething waters. They hung suspended in the air for a few minutes… as if listening.
As the assembled watched, these lights began to brighten as the last of the dark receded. One more time, the song of life sounded clearly for all to hear in a joyous crescendo as the Valar celebrated these few children of the Ilúvatar returned to their care. A bright light exploded before them. As their sight returned, they saw that the glimmering lights had disappeared.
Violent tremors from the depths of the marsh churned the surface. The dim green light shuddered and shivered, as if fighting an unseen force. A loud shriek of fury and pain rent the still air of the marsh... and the green light winked out and disappeared forever as the last of the corrupted ones were swept into the Void. The waters of the marsh again stilled, save for a few gentle ripples moving in response to the wind’s caress.
The Dead Marshes were, at long last, at peace.
*****
Seere became aware that she was still sitting on the bank of the healing lake held fast in Elrond’s embrace. She did not remember starting to cry, but she found herself racked by sobs as long suppressed pain demanded release. Elrond’s gentle whispers of comfort, the soft caress of his hands on her back began to ease the storm of her emotions. Pulling away just enough to look up into his eyes, she realized he had cried with her. The guilt and despair of four thousand years had lain heavy upon them both.
*****
Uncomfortable with the fact that they were the center of attention for a large audience, Elrond and Seere finally pulled apart and struggled to rise to their feet. A gentle hand was placed on Elrond’s arm to pull him to his feet. Likewise, the same gentle hands reached down to lift the injured Seere... supported her until she found her balance. Both found themselves owing thanks to a smiling Oropher.
Before more could be said, Glorfindel demanded, “Would someone please tell me what just happened?” A shaking Haldir stood leaning into his mate’s embrace, tears flowing down his smiling face.
Relieved to have something to focus his mind, Elrond began, “This was the task the Valar sent us to undertake on their behalf. The dead… and wounded…” He paused to look at the Mirkwood elf to confirm the latter. Seeing him nod, Elrond continued. “…of the Battle of Dagorlad were trapped by an evil enchantment of Sauron’s… most likely one that came to him from Morgoth. None of the dead were able to go on to Mandos Hall. The men and dwarves could not then follow the path of the mortal dead and the elves were denied the chance to be rehoused. The wounded were likewise trapped with the dead.”
“By touching the water, Seere and I created a connection for those trapped in the marshes to again hear the Valar sing the song of life… to hear the call of the One. I suspect our shared Maiar heritage gifted us with just enough Ainur magic so that we could create this link. The power of the song was stronger than the evil that enslaved them, and the dead fëar have been freed to follow their destiny. I am assuming the wounded were trapped by the enchantment before we could find them for care, and have endured a sort of half-life, half-death existence. These are the ones that stand with us now. Am I right in this Oropher?”
“Aye, as always, Tercáno. I see your being the one with all the answers has not changed… no matter how long I am gone,” Oropher teased. “May I ask… just how long that was?” (Herald)
Giddy with relief, Elrond grinned. “I see that your wishing to mock my dedication to knowledge has not changed either.”
“And I see you two must still be separated like elflings if peace is to be maintained!” a tired Seere quipped. Seeing the shocked faces turned her way, “What?”
Before anyone could answer, Oropher stepped closer to the exhausted elleth and stared hard into her eyes, as if trying to see into her very fëa. After a few seconds, a startled gasp left his throat as a stunned expression settled on his face. “May I ask to be introduced to the lady that seems so central to our release? Such a lovely maiden is indeed a sight for sore eyes!”
“I am Seere, daughter of Lord Erestor,” she began.
“And, my betrothed. We will marry once we return to Imladris for the Winter Festival,” a miffed Elrond added, reaching over to slide a possessive arm around her waist.
Oropher’s laughter surprised them all. “Indeed, some things never change! And some change in the most intriguing ways!”
Seeing the confused and, in some cases, angry looks he was getting, Oropher turned to the other warriors returned with him from the prison of the Dead Marshes. “Am I the only one to see who stands before us?”
After a few seconds of scrutiny by the group, several gasps were heard and a few slow smiles began to show themselves. “Ah, I see I am not.”
Silently, he seemed to ask a question and receive his answer if the unanimous nods from his brethren were properly read. Turning back, he smiled at Seere and executed a precise formal bow in her honor --- a move duplicated by the rest.
Confused, Seere looked toward Elrond and Erestor… then Celeborn and Glorfindel, seeking an explanation for their behavior. Tired of Oropher’s grandstanding, Celeborn demanded “What are you on about?”
“Simple, my dear Celeborn. We, who have lived in the enchantment of these marshes, have grown accustomed to seeing not a body, but the fëa. We still can.”
Turning back to Seere, he continued, “I have withheld the honor you are due for far too long. The Valar warned us that the battle with the dark has yet to be finished before we chose to return to Middle-earth rather than go the way of the dead. We realize unity of purpose is vital. The Last Alliance was hampered by less than total allegiance to our cause. I was a chief contributor to the dissention. I will not allow my wounded pride… my anger over unrequited love to do that again.”
Squaring his shoulders, he concluded, “Therefore, I pledge to you my alliance, my king.” That said, he repeated his bow.
Stunned by this speech, Elrond stared at the elf. Finally, he asked, “I do realize you may still be in shock from your ordeal, Oropher, but you do realize Seere is an elleth, not an ellon, do you not?”
“Oh, of that I have no doubt! I may have long been in that half-life as you called it, but I am not blind and I do know a beautiful maiden when I see one, Tercáno! But as I said, we can also see and recognize the fëa... something, you clearly can not!” Oropher smirked. (Herald)
Seeing Elrond was about to explode, Erestor broke in, “In that case, tell me whose fëa do you see in my daughter?”
“I see a fëa changed in many respects from being born again an elleth… and your daughter, but retaining much of the character of the original that I knew. Her fëa is rich and complex… having many divergent parts. I have never beheld another like it for the changes are real. Still…”
“Who is you think you see?!”
Looking Seere straight in the eye, he crossed his right arm across his chest in the manner of one warrior paying respect to another. ”I… nay we, see the elven leader of the Last Alliance, the High King of the Noldor… Ereinion Gil-Galad.”
*****