Faded Light: Book II
folder
-Multi-Age › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
43
Views:
12,202
Reviews:
46
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
-Multi-Age › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
43
Views:
12,202
Reviews:
46
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
Characters and places belong to JRR Tolkien and to his estate. I own only my OC's and twisted storylines.
Dissent
(For other notes and disclaimers please see top of Chapter 1.)
Chapter 9
Dissent
"King Javad is dying, you know?"
The slave sat on the brick wall surrounding the terrace, watching the preoccupied prince next to him. "I know the healer has been to see him every day this week,” he said.
“He hides it well, but he is not as he was but a few months ago...the headaches have gotten worse and the tremors in his hand...”
“Aran says it will most likely be sudden...he may yet have a year, two perhaps or considerably less...”
Enough years had passed that the king’s son was no longer the youthful acolyte who once served Behdad.
The lines on his face had begun to show the passing of time, the hardening of a young noble who had seen much of life and loss; who after the death of his brothers...had filially supported his father...
His first, arranged, marriage had proven fruitless ending early in childless widowerhood; the second had proven happier though so far no more productive...
So much life humans could fit into little more than a dozen years, he thought.
"With the king's eldest sons dead, when he is gone, my sister and her husband will vie for power with he whomever my father chooses as his heir,” the prince went on.
"Prince Vadar has the best claim. But he is in Horondor, and Prince Hadayat controls most of the army and will doubtless have Mena's support."
"And then?"
"Who can tell?
"It is a violent world we Harawaith have made for ourselves,” he said. “It will go on long after you and I are not even a memory.
“Our family came to the throne when my great grandfather deposed some forgotten former king and set his own line on it? Sooner or later, it will all end the same way.
"I suppose that I am fortunate in some ways that my mother held such an unimportant place among my father's wives. I think he grew to care for her, but few others ever gave her a second thought, which has always allowed me a certain amount of freedom along with the privileges of royalty."
Emau leaned forward, elbows resting on the wall, contemplating all that had been said...
"What do you think of when you come all the way up here?” he asked after several minutes, still gazing out at the great Haradrim city and over the vast southern desert dotted with small settlements that became fewer as one looked northward.
The slave shrugged, following Emau’s gaze over the terrace. "I usually try not to,” he said. “It is not an appropriate pastime for a slave spend too much time in thought...”
From the highest levels of the palace, his elven sight allowed him to see far across the great desert...the same desert Kebu had brought him across so many years ago, tormenting him the entire way...
When his heart was heaviest he liked to imagine he might somehow be able to see all the way to Mirkwood, that his father might somehow hear him through the impossible distance; though he knew he would never have the strength to face him or any of those who had known him as he had been...
"I have often wondered of late if my own father lives still,” he admitted. “Or if he faded long ago, when he believed me dead...”
“Were you an only son?” asked Emau. In all these years, he had occasionally been curious enough to ask about the slave's past but had leaned the elf would almost always evade the subject of his own former life...
Dafi was quiet for a long moment, his eyes still in some distant place before he answered, thinking of long-gone elfling days when he would follow his beloved gwador almost everywhere.
“The younger of two,” he finally said, “but the only child born to my parents...
"What shall you do, highness,” he asked, pushing aside the pain such memories always brought, “when the king has left this world?"
"I don't think I would want to stay here when Hadayat is king. He tolerates me because I was once Behdad's acolyte, but we've never been overly fond of each other. I think we will go east once Father...it is where my mother's people have always lived.
"He will certainly not leave you and the child unprotected," added the prince. "I am sure he will see that you are both well after he's gone."
"I have no doubt whatever arrangements the king makes will be with the best of intentions, but even a king has only so much power over a slave's final fate.
"Although I gave up worrying for myself long ago. I have survived this long; somehow, I will go on.
“It is only the child's future that concerns me."
"How old is Mel now?"
"She was born almost fourteen years ago, which makes her closer in age to about a human child of eight."
“...my cousin, Saterah tells me you stopped letting Mel help in the armory so often.”
“I do know how much she enjoys her time down there, but I do not think instruction in weaponry is a wise pursuit for the child of a slave.”
“Saterah is very fond of Mel,” said the prince.
“She is to return to Horondor soon, and as it happens, she is looking for a new page girl.”
"Highness?"
"My father favors you. Surely, he would not deny you such a small thing."
"If I asked it of him I am sure he would grant it. But..."
“As you say, a slave's fate is uncertain, and the world is about to become even more uncertain. But though it may take many years, some apprentices are able to buy their freedom in time.”
“In Horondor?” For the first time he began to truly pay heed to Emau’s words.
Horondor was on the other side of the desert and just across the border with Gondor...did he dare even to contemplate something so dangerous...?
“If her future worries you, it may be an opportunity for something different...”
=============================
“Who is that child in the garden with Alatariel? It is not Ithilhen.”
“His name is Benain. He is Feredir and Alatariel’s new fosterling,” Glaerwen said, her eyes still on the chessboard in front of her.
“Fosterling?”
“Feredir and Tari took him in, in Rohan.”
Her blue eyes met Ethiel’s across the table before looking over at her father. “He does not speak our language very well yet though. But Mistress Randiriel is working with him...”
“An elfling from Rohan, who does not speak Sindarin?” The dark elf turned from the window, frowning at his daughter’s words, “Whose child is he?”
“I don’t know, Ada.”
“It seems that he has spent his entire life among Men, my lord,” volunteered Ethiel, glancing over Glaerwen’s shoulder to his soon to be father in law.
“Feredir has not been able to learn much of the boy’s past yet.”
“A most curious situation,” muttered the king’s cousin returning to the window.
“It is...”
“What is it, Highness?”
“Meldamiriel swears...you know how peculiar clerics are, my lord,” said the king’s younger nephew. “My sister being no exception...
“As soon as she saw him she swore it must be Legolas reborn.”
“What nonsense.”
“Everyone thought so, unfortunately the king was also there, and he was not amused by Meldamiriel’s assertions. I think what angered him all the more is that there is a certain resemblance between the boy and...”
“You could say the same of a score of elflings...
“I think you’d best have a talk with your sister, Ethiel. Royal cleric or not it would not be wise to go about making such a preposterous claim.”
“You are right of course, hir nin.”
Glaerwen watched in silence as her father strode from the room, his mood turning black since the prince had told him about the boy and Meldamiriel’s words.
His final glare in the direction of the garden made her nervous, for she had realized long ago that bad things tended to happed to those unlucky enough to be in the path of one of one of those looks...
“Are you all right, meld nin?”
“Yes, I was just thinking of all the things that must still be finished before the wedding...
“I asked Faervel if he would do a portrait,” she said. “He’s very good.”
“I think it is a good idea. Though I hope you spoke to the king first. You know how he has always felt about Faervel.”
“Yes, of course...”
He reached across to take her hand. “Do want to go down to the garden?"
She smiled, rearranging one of her pieces, “You always want to take a walk just when I’m winning...
“Do you really think it is just nonsense?” she asked after a minute.
“What Meldamiriel said about Benain?” he looked at her curiously. “I doubt the Valar would have put Legolas faer in the body of an orphaned half elfling in Rohan...
“Besides, most who are reborn are not returned to Middle Earth, but wait in Valinor.”
“Adar is ill at ease with the idea of Legolas ever returning, even reborn. He sees the throne within reach of his line again, so long as Leralonde has no son...”
“That is hardly a thing he can control...if Londe and Saelbeth ever manage to work things out...
“Perhaps next time, my brother will do his duty and sire a son..."
She slapped his hand lightly. “Duty...what a horrid way to speak of having a child...”
“It is the price of being born to highly, alfirin.”
He took her hand again. “But why should you and I worry about that.
"Unless something else happens, it is my brother's duty to fulfill...but there is no reason Leralonde, if Uncle should ever leave, shouldn't be king and rule well for many centuries...”
TBC..
Elvish Translations:
Adar, Ada / father, dad, daddy
Hir nin / my lord
Meld nin / my love
Alfirin / immortal flower
Dissent
"King Javad is dying, you know?"
The slave sat on the brick wall surrounding the terrace, watching the preoccupied prince next to him. "I know the healer has been to see him every day this week,” he said.
“He hides it well, but he is not as he was but a few months ago...the headaches have gotten worse and the tremors in his hand...”
“Aran says it will most likely be sudden...he may yet have a year, two perhaps or considerably less...”
Enough years had passed that the king’s son was no longer the youthful acolyte who once served Behdad.
The lines on his face had begun to show the passing of time, the hardening of a young noble who had seen much of life and loss; who after the death of his brothers...had filially supported his father...
His first, arranged, marriage had proven fruitless ending early in childless widowerhood; the second had proven happier though so far no more productive...
So much life humans could fit into little more than a dozen years, he thought.
"With the king's eldest sons dead, when he is gone, my sister and her husband will vie for power with he whomever my father chooses as his heir,” the prince went on.
"Prince Vadar has the best claim. But he is in Horondor, and Prince Hadayat controls most of the army and will doubtless have Mena's support."
"And then?"
"Who can tell?
"It is a violent world we Harawaith have made for ourselves,” he said. “It will go on long after you and I are not even a memory.
“Our family came to the throne when my great grandfather deposed some forgotten former king and set his own line on it? Sooner or later, it will all end the same way.
"I suppose that I am fortunate in some ways that my mother held such an unimportant place among my father's wives. I think he grew to care for her, but few others ever gave her a second thought, which has always allowed me a certain amount of freedom along with the privileges of royalty."
Emau leaned forward, elbows resting on the wall, contemplating all that had been said...
"What do you think of when you come all the way up here?” he asked after several minutes, still gazing out at the great Haradrim city and over the vast southern desert dotted with small settlements that became fewer as one looked northward.
The slave shrugged, following Emau’s gaze over the terrace. "I usually try not to,” he said. “It is not an appropriate pastime for a slave spend too much time in thought...”
From the highest levels of the palace, his elven sight allowed him to see far across the great desert...the same desert Kebu had brought him across so many years ago, tormenting him the entire way...
When his heart was heaviest he liked to imagine he might somehow be able to see all the way to Mirkwood, that his father might somehow hear him through the impossible distance; though he knew he would never have the strength to face him or any of those who had known him as he had been...
"I have often wondered of late if my own father lives still,” he admitted. “Or if he faded long ago, when he believed me dead...”
“Were you an only son?” asked Emau. In all these years, he had occasionally been curious enough to ask about the slave's past but had leaned the elf would almost always evade the subject of his own former life...
Dafi was quiet for a long moment, his eyes still in some distant place before he answered, thinking of long-gone elfling days when he would follow his beloved gwador almost everywhere.
“The younger of two,” he finally said, “but the only child born to my parents...
"What shall you do, highness,” he asked, pushing aside the pain such memories always brought, “when the king has left this world?"
"I don't think I would want to stay here when Hadayat is king. He tolerates me because I was once Behdad's acolyte, but we've never been overly fond of each other. I think we will go east once Father...it is where my mother's people have always lived.
"He will certainly not leave you and the child unprotected," added the prince. "I am sure he will see that you are both well after he's gone."
"I have no doubt whatever arrangements the king makes will be with the best of intentions, but even a king has only so much power over a slave's final fate.
"Although I gave up worrying for myself long ago. I have survived this long; somehow, I will go on.
“It is only the child's future that concerns me."
"How old is Mel now?"
"She was born almost fourteen years ago, which makes her closer in age to about a human child of eight."
“...my cousin, Saterah tells me you stopped letting Mel help in the armory so often.”
“I do know how much she enjoys her time down there, but I do not think instruction in weaponry is a wise pursuit for the child of a slave.”
“Saterah is very fond of Mel,” said the prince.
“She is to return to Horondor soon, and as it happens, she is looking for a new page girl.”
"Highness?"
"My father favors you. Surely, he would not deny you such a small thing."
"If I asked it of him I am sure he would grant it. But..."
“As you say, a slave's fate is uncertain, and the world is about to become even more uncertain. But though it may take many years, some apprentices are able to buy their freedom in time.”
“In Horondor?” For the first time he began to truly pay heed to Emau’s words.
Horondor was on the other side of the desert and just across the border with Gondor...did he dare even to contemplate something so dangerous...?
“If her future worries you, it may be an opportunity for something different...”
=============================
“Who is that child in the garden with Alatariel? It is not Ithilhen.”
“His name is Benain. He is Feredir and Alatariel’s new fosterling,” Glaerwen said, her eyes still on the chessboard in front of her.
“Fosterling?”
“Feredir and Tari took him in, in Rohan.”
Her blue eyes met Ethiel’s across the table before looking over at her father. “He does not speak our language very well yet though. But Mistress Randiriel is working with him...”
“An elfling from Rohan, who does not speak Sindarin?” The dark elf turned from the window, frowning at his daughter’s words, “Whose child is he?”
“I don’t know, Ada.”
“It seems that he has spent his entire life among Men, my lord,” volunteered Ethiel, glancing over Glaerwen’s shoulder to his soon to be father in law.
“Feredir has not been able to learn much of the boy’s past yet.”
“A most curious situation,” muttered the king’s cousin returning to the window.
“It is...”
“What is it, Highness?”
“Meldamiriel swears...you know how peculiar clerics are, my lord,” said the king’s younger nephew. “My sister being no exception...
“As soon as she saw him she swore it must be Legolas reborn.”
“What nonsense.”
“Everyone thought so, unfortunately the king was also there, and he was not amused by Meldamiriel’s assertions. I think what angered him all the more is that there is a certain resemblance between the boy and...”
“You could say the same of a score of elflings...
“I think you’d best have a talk with your sister, Ethiel. Royal cleric or not it would not be wise to go about making such a preposterous claim.”
“You are right of course, hir nin.”
Glaerwen watched in silence as her father strode from the room, his mood turning black since the prince had told him about the boy and Meldamiriel’s words.
His final glare in the direction of the garden made her nervous, for she had realized long ago that bad things tended to happed to those unlucky enough to be in the path of one of one of those looks...
“Are you all right, meld nin?”
“Yes, I was just thinking of all the things that must still be finished before the wedding...
“I asked Faervel if he would do a portrait,” she said. “He’s very good.”
“I think it is a good idea. Though I hope you spoke to the king first. You know how he has always felt about Faervel.”
“Yes, of course...”
He reached across to take her hand. “Do want to go down to the garden?"
She smiled, rearranging one of her pieces, “You always want to take a walk just when I’m winning...
“Do you really think it is just nonsense?” she asked after a minute.
“What Meldamiriel said about Benain?” he looked at her curiously. “I doubt the Valar would have put Legolas faer in the body of an orphaned half elfling in Rohan...
“Besides, most who are reborn are not returned to Middle Earth, but wait in Valinor.”
“Adar is ill at ease with the idea of Legolas ever returning, even reborn. He sees the throne within reach of his line again, so long as Leralonde has no son...”
“That is hardly a thing he can control...if Londe and Saelbeth ever manage to work things out...
“Perhaps next time, my brother will do his duty and sire a son..."
She slapped his hand lightly. “Duty...what a horrid way to speak of having a child...”
“It is the price of being born to highly, alfirin.”
He took her hand again. “But why should you and I worry about that.
"Unless something else happens, it is my brother's duty to fulfill...but there is no reason Leralonde, if Uncle should ever leave, shouldn't be king and rule well for many centuries...”
TBC..
Elvish Translations:
Adar, Ada / father, dad, daddy
Hir nin / my lord
Meld nin / my love
Alfirin / immortal flower