Voices In The Dark
folder
-Multi-Age › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
34
Views:
16,627
Reviews:
193
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
-Multi-Age › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
34
Views:
16,627
Reviews:
193
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.
Interlude of Spirits
Title: Voices In The Dark
Author: Nikkiling
Pairing: Legolas/OC, Legolas/?
Rating: NC-17 (Just in case)
Warning: NCS, Mentions/Memories of child abuse, Self-Harm, WIP
Summery: Thranduil sends one of his sons to Imladris, fearing that the stresses of constant battle against the encroaching darkness may be too much for the young prince. Little does anyone know the prince's true state of mind...
Disclaimer: This wonderful world belongs to Tolkien. I'm just borrowing the characters for a time and adding a few of my own.
Author's note: Reviews will be greatly appreciated. Bear with me; it's my first time. Also, mental health tends to be a nebulous science in some aspects. Any inconsistencies will be attributed to the unknowns of elven physiology. Ha!
*This* denotes thought...or something to that effect.
A/N: An odd, short chapter; one that was written quite some time ago and had been moved about through the story a bit until it ended up here. Sorry for its short length. More on the way...
Chapter Six: Interlude of Spirits
A single tree stood majestically in the center of a large grassy clearing. Its leafy green branches stretched high into the achingly blue heavens, the gentle arms reaching a great distance both up and out. Its dark brown trunk, as wide as several elves together holding hands, was knotted and weathered with age. No fruit was borne from this tree, although tiny white flowers often drifted by in the slight, fragrant breeze.
This magnificent tree radiated from within its depths a sense of peace, providing comfort for those that dwelled in and around its ancient soul. The little spirit called Oiolaire liked to hide amongst the sheltering branches. Deep auburn hair and pale blue eyes, his was the voice of pain and fear and sadness. Many remembered torments resided within the small boy's mind, kept safe from the others lest the spirits fade. At the moment Oiolaire was gone, having disappeared into the surrounding forest when no one was looking.
Other small, childlike creatures existed deep within the dark branches of the ancient mother tree, but they would never show themselves unless a time came when they had no choice. They communicated to each other through dreams, but even then they continued to remain hidden from view.
Oiolaire had a friend in Elanor, the young female elf with bright, cheery blue eyes. She liked to climb the tree's extensive branches, but also found joy racing about the surrounding meadow gathering feathers and flowers for her dark gold hair. She held the pure, unadulterated happiness of a child within her being, although she often grew tired of others mistaking her for a male elf.
Ravan sat amongst the knarled roots at the base of the tree, his sharp ears always listening to the sounds of the world around him. Red-gold hair with gold-flecked, teal-blue eyes, his was the voice of diplomacy and reason in a chaotic world. He tried to keep everything under control, sometimes reweaving the memories of what others perceived; all the while protecting those in his care. Although at times even this was beyond his abilities, and lately his duties were becoming increasingly difficult.
One of the troubles was icy Aenos, who stood a little ways distant from the tree's protective embrace. He barely tolerated the others dwelling here for he thought them to be evil, corrupting entities keeping him from being good and pure. Punishment, he believed, was the only recourse for bad behavior. His cold, prideful ways often set him against all the others. Yet he was the only one who could deal with the Tutor when the others were frightened away.
Further out, pacing through the tall, shifting grasses of the meadow, was Mórehua with his ebony hair flying behind him and midnight blue eyes flashing dangerously. His skin was grayish toned, and if one could catch sight of his hands one would notice they were distorted into almost claw-like appendages. He was rage and anger. He was the fighter, the warrior. Near him stood Fánehua, who's appearance was nearly identical but for his hair, which was the color of pure white snowdrifts. Where one went, the other was sure to be close by. They could almost be considered the same being, but Fánehua was the one who inflicted pain on the body they all shared, trying to make his voice known. These two spirits feared for them all, but in their fear they lashed out against those who would help. They were also the ones who kept the others from speaking of their existence to those outside, sending dreams, memories, and frightening images to keep the other, younger spirits at bay.
The last presence was the archer, Legolas, who refused to acknowledge the existence of these elves dwelling within his mind. He was the shield, the cover that kept all others on the outside from looking deeper. He heard the voices of the other spirits, suffered periods of dislocation or even blackout when one of the others took over, but to ensure the safety of the rest of the group and the body they shared, was never made fully aware of the reality their existence. He thought he was the original, and Ravan worked hard to ensure he didn't realize that this fact was untrue.
Yet now the long period of quiet had come and gone. Thoughts belonging to the others had been leaking through, causing this elf to become more chaotic and to think things he was initially sheltered from. Some of the others wished to finally make themselves known, even though it might destroy them all.
Ravan stood and the rest of the elves paused in their various activities to watch him warily. He was aware that they had entered the realm of the famed healer of Imladris, where he felt might be able to seek the help they so needed. He had also been aware of the Tutor standing in the entryway of the courtyard, and feared what that might mean for them all. He had watched Aenos take over, in the courtyard as well as at dinner, as he was meant to do whenever the Tutor was near, keeping the others from doing anything that might cause them harm. The appearance of the Tutor was unexpected, and Ravan knew he would have to work quickly to ensure their safety. His options, he felt, were few, and diminishing rapidly.
Silently he watched as Mórehua and Fánehua crept into the dark woods, quiet and wary. Ravan couldn't sense a fight, and feared that instead they would be up to some sort of mischief. He already had to help the archer fend off Fánehua's attempts at self-destruction earlier. He would no doubt try again, just to prove he was the better. He was angry at Elanor's attempts at communication, and again at Legolas’ negative response.
Ravan gestured to Elanor, who descended a branch she had been perched upon to stand beside him. After shifting restlessly from foot to foot for a few moments she nodded, understanding what Ravan wanted without him saying a word. She would retrieve Oiolaire and bring him back into the safety of the tree. Turning, she lightly skipped into the flower-strewn meadow and beyond, disappearing into the darkness of the surrounding forest.
Releasing a heavy sigh, he sent up a silent prayer to the Valar, hoping he was doing the right thing. Then he followed the young elfling into the forest. There would be a mess to clean up before the night was through.
A/N: I tried to give the other spirit's names that actually meant something in Elvish, using my limited attempt at language. So here it goes:
Elanor - Yellow star flower
Mórehua - Black dog
Fánehua - White dog
Oiolaire - Evergreen tree
Ravan - Wing
Aenos - Angel
All other elvish words used I haven't defined because I figured the context would suffice. If any have any wish for more firm definitions, I will strive to do so.
Review Responses:
Karen: I suppose since I haven't actually said who, there IS always a chance, but...well... I guess we'll have to just wait and see. (grin) I'm really glad you still like the story though, and thank you for continuing to respond. It keeps my muse from running away without me!
Thalionwen: Thanks! Your reviews are so encouraging and much appreciated!
Lady_J: Thank You! I'm trying to update once a week, but I might update the next chapter sooner since this one was so brief.
Crookis: Thanks! More on the way!
Anon: Thank you so much!
Sivan: Thanks! I hope I don't disappoint!
I just wanted to say: a big thanks to everyone for their kind reviews thus far. I love them so much that I actually save them on a disk with my copy of the story. They really help me when I start feeling morose and unmotivated. Thank you!
Author: Nikkiling
Pairing: Legolas/OC, Legolas/?
Rating: NC-17 (Just in case)
Warning: NCS, Mentions/Memories of child abuse, Self-Harm, WIP
Summery: Thranduil sends one of his sons to Imladris, fearing that the stresses of constant battle against the encroaching darkness may be too much for the young prince. Little does anyone know the prince's true state of mind...
Disclaimer: This wonderful world belongs to Tolkien. I'm just borrowing the characters for a time and adding a few of my own.
Author's note: Reviews will be greatly appreciated. Bear with me; it's my first time. Also, mental health tends to be a nebulous science in some aspects. Any inconsistencies will be attributed to the unknowns of elven physiology. Ha!
*This* denotes thought...or something to that effect.
A/N: An odd, short chapter; one that was written quite some time ago and had been moved about through the story a bit until it ended up here. Sorry for its short length. More on the way...
Chapter Six: Interlude of Spirits
A single tree stood majestically in the center of a large grassy clearing. Its leafy green branches stretched high into the achingly blue heavens, the gentle arms reaching a great distance both up and out. Its dark brown trunk, as wide as several elves together holding hands, was knotted and weathered with age. No fruit was borne from this tree, although tiny white flowers often drifted by in the slight, fragrant breeze.
This magnificent tree radiated from within its depths a sense of peace, providing comfort for those that dwelled in and around its ancient soul. The little spirit called Oiolaire liked to hide amongst the sheltering branches. Deep auburn hair and pale blue eyes, his was the voice of pain and fear and sadness. Many remembered torments resided within the small boy's mind, kept safe from the others lest the spirits fade. At the moment Oiolaire was gone, having disappeared into the surrounding forest when no one was looking.
Other small, childlike creatures existed deep within the dark branches of the ancient mother tree, but they would never show themselves unless a time came when they had no choice. They communicated to each other through dreams, but even then they continued to remain hidden from view.
Oiolaire had a friend in Elanor, the young female elf with bright, cheery blue eyes. She liked to climb the tree's extensive branches, but also found joy racing about the surrounding meadow gathering feathers and flowers for her dark gold hair. She held the pure, unadulterated happiness of a child within her being, although she often grew tired of others mistaking her for a male elf.
Ravan sat amongst the knarled roots at the base of the tree, his sharp ears always listening to the sounds of the world around him. Red-gold hair with gold-flecked, teal-blue eyes, his was the voice of diplomacy and reason in a chaotic world. He tried to keep everything under control, sometimes reweaving the memories of what others perceived; all the while protecting those in his care. Although at times even this was beyond his abilities, and lately his duties were becoming increasingly difficult.
One of the troubles was icy Aenos, who stood a little ways distant from the tree's protective embrace. He barely tolerated the others dwelling here for he thought them to be evil, corrupting entities keeping him from being good and pure. Punishment, he believed, was the only recourse for bad behavior. His cold, prideful ways often set him against all the others. Yet he was the only one who could deal with the Tutor when the others were frightened away.
Further out, pacing through the tall, shifting grasses of the meadow, was Mórehua with his ebony hair flying behind him and midnight blue eyes flashing dangerously. His skin was grayish toned, and if one could catch sight of his hands one would notice they were distorted into almost claw-like appendages. He was rage and anger. He was the fighter, the warrior. Near him stood Fánehua, who's appearance was nearly identical but for his hair, which was the color of pure white snowdrifts. Where one went, the other was sure to be close by. They could almost be considered the same being, but Fánehua was the one who inflicted pain on the body they all shared, trying to make his voice known. These two spirits feared for them all, but in their fear they lashed out against those who would help. They were also the ones who kept the others from speaking of their existence to those outside, sending dreams, memories, and frightening images to keep the other, younger spirits at bay.
The last presence was the archer, Legolas, who refused to acknowledge the existence of these elves dwelling within his mind. He was the shield, the cover that kept all others on the outside from looking deeper. He heard the voices of the other spirits, suffered periods of dislocation or even blackout when one of the others took over, but to ensure the safety of the rest of the group and the body they shared, was never made fully aware of the reality their existence. He thought he was the original, and Ravan worked hard to ensure he didn't realize that this fact was untrue.
Yet now the long period of quiet had come and gone. Thoughts belonging to the others had been leaking through, causing this elf to become more chaotic and to think things he was initially sheltered from. Some of the others wished to finally make themselves known, even though it might destroy them all.
Ravan stood and the rest of the elves paused in their various activities to watch him warily. He was aware that they had entered the realm of the famed healer of Imladris, where he felt might be able to seek the help they so needed. He had also been aware of the Tutor standing in the entryway of the courtyard, and feared what that might mean for them all. He had watched Aenos take over, in the courtyard as well as at dinner, as he was meant to do whenever the Tutor was near, keeping the others from doing anything that might cause them harm. The appearance of the Tutor was unexpected, and Ravan knew he would have to work quickly to ensure their safety. His options, he felt, were few, and diminishing rapidly.
Silently he watched as Mórehua and Fánehua crept into the dark woods, quiet and wary. Ravan couldn't sense a fight, and feared that instead they would be up to some sort of mischief. He already had to help the archer fend off Fánehua's attempts at self-destruction earlier. He would no doubt try again, just to prove he was the better. He was angry at Elanor's attempts at communication, and again at Legolas’ negative response.
Ravan gestured to Elanor, who descended a branch she had been perched upon to stand beside him. After shifting restlessly from foot to foot for a few moments she nodded, understanding what Ravan wanted without him saying a word. She would retrieve Oiolaire and bring him back into the safety of the tree. Turning, she lightly skipped into the flower-strewn meadow and beyond, disappearing into the darkness of the surrounding forest.
Releasing a heavy sigh, he sent up a silent prayer to the Valar, hoping he was doing the right thing. Then he followed the young elfling into the forest. There would be a mess to clean up before the night was through.
A/N: I tried to give the other spirit's names that actually meant something in Elvish, using my limited attempt at language. So here it goes:
Elanor - Yellow star flower
Mórehua - Black dog
Fánehua - White dog
Oiolaire - Evergreen tree
Ravan - Wing
Aenos - Angel
All other elvish words used I haven't defined because I figured the context would suffice. If any have any wish for more firm definitions, I will strive to do so.
Review Responses:
Karen: I suppose since I haven't actually said who, there IS always a chance, but...well... I guess we'll have to just wait and see. (grin) I'm really glad you still like the story though, and thank you for continuing to respond. It keeps my muse from running away without me!
Thalionwen: Thanks! Your reviews are so encouraging and much appreciated!
Lady_J: Thank You! I'm trying to update once a week, but I might update the next chapter sooner since this one was so brief.
Crookis: Thanks! More on the way!
Anon: Thank you so much!
Sivan: Thanks! I hope I don't disappoint!
I just wanted to say: a big thanks to everyone for their kind reviews thus far. I love them so much that I actually save them on a disk with my copy of the story. They really help me when I start feeling morose and unmotivated. Thank you!