Disclaimer: Nope, not mine. Wish they were though. Cuz then I could make Aragorn and Legolas get nekkid on screen...
Main Characters: Most of the surviving original characters from the Lord of the Rings trilogy make some sort of appearance. Of great importance and note are Aragorn (King Elessar), Arwen, Legolas, Boromir (yes, I said Boromir), Faramir, and Eowyn. Also starring are original characters, such as Farawyn and Dathomir, or original takes on mentioned or named characters, like Prince Eldarion.
Warning: This story contains slash (male homosexual relationships), mild homoeroticism, profanity, mature themes, sexual situations, nudity, gore (the bloody kind, not the presidential kind), and violence. You know, the good stuff.
Archive: Please ask first.
Summary: This is the tale of Prince Eldarion, son of Aragorn and Arwen, his Elven lover, Dathomir, and his best friend Farawyn, daughter of Faramir and Eowyn. Eldarion wishes to escape his father's shadow, but when he runs away from Gondor, Eldarion uncovers a plot to destroy his kingdom. Legolas is taken by a mysterious villain, and during an attempt to save him, Aragorn is taken as well. Nothing can be taken for granted, and it is up to Eldarion, Dathomir, and Farawyn to set Gandalf free and save Gondor. Contains slash.
Notes: Mennai i Metta means "Until the End" in Elvish (Quenya dialect). This story will contain some Elvish language words, but footnotes marked with a (*) shall contain the translation. Since this is in written form, and I found Quenya to be more extensive (and it *is* the "Book Elvish"), all Elvish will be used with Quenya dialect. It will help to avoid dialectal confusion, though if I lack a word in Quenya, I will refer to Sindarin. Any grammatical or dialectal inconsistencies with my Elvish are on the part of ignorance, and feedback on Elvish grammar is appreciated, so it can be edited and fixed. Elvish grammar errors will no doubt be abundant, as I'm still learning the languages. This is mostly movie canon, with book canon used to fill in the details. The few inconsistencies with book canon are intentional, as movie canon takes precedence to book canon. There will be slash themes contained within. Deal with it. This, however, is a romantic adventure, not a mere slash story.
With Thanks To: Both Kayshinae and crickets for their awesome beta. *gives big hugs to them* Does having two betas make me paranoid about my writing or what? *grin*
Mennai i Metta
All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.
From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring;
Renewed shall be blade that was broken:
The crownless again shall be king.
- "The Riddle of Strider"; JRR Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings
It was a beautiful day on the day Prince Eldarion, firstborn son of King Elessar Telcontar, was born. There was not a cloud in the crystal blue sky, and the sun shone brighter than it had in many an age. It was Mid-Summer's day; the water in the stream ran clear and pure, and the grass shone emerald green on the hills of Gondor.
"Tar-Elessar, sinome ná yondolya, i Rie Haryon Eldarion, ve kalwa ve Earendil, ar ve alkarin ve laure..."*
King Elessar, the Man once known as the ranger Aragorn, beamed down at his wife, who gracefully handed him his firstborn son from where she lay on the bed. Even after childbirth, Arwen glowed with great light, and the pride of handing Aragorn a son shone in her eyes.
Elessar drew in a breath at the tiny marvel in his arms. The baby boy looked up at him with his own gray-green eyes, already wide and full of intelligence. The babe was as fair as his mother and as regal as his father. His skin was ivory, like his mother's, but a tuft of wild black hair like his father's covered his head. His tiny fists waved in the air and he yawned greatly.
A tear formed in Elessar's eye as the babe nestled against his chest, perfectly comfortable in his father's arms. Love such as Elessar had never experienced burst through his heart at the mere sight of his son. It was a love even greater than that he felt for Arwen. For this was the love of his child, of his heir.
"Anlye, seldo indonya, antan i kalalya Evenstar ta ammelya antnë ni anda yaa..."** Elessar whispered softly, taking the necklace from his neck and placing it around his newborn son's.
Eldarion opened his eyes and smiled at his father.
It was a truly beautiful day on the day that Dathomir lost everything that he loved. There were only a few clouds in the deep blue sky, and the suns shone high and bright. It was a crisp autumn day, nearing winter, the air was crisp and clean, and the browning leaves fell gracefully from the trees.
He had been outside the village, hunting deer, when a sudden darkness clouded his sight, and he fell to his knees. It was as though a knife stabbed through his heart, yet there was nothing near him. Dathomir gasped and struggled to his feet, running as fast as his legs would take him back to his village.
But he arrived too late.
No sound escaped Dathomir's lips, and he felt nothing. There was nothing left in him, as there was nothing left alive in his village. He shuffled numbly through the main street, trying not to notice the dead bodies lying about.
Blood was splattered across the main thoroughfare; battered and broken bodies littered the entire village. Body parts were strewn about carelessly. It looked as though a great beast had torn asunder everyone in the village, yet left the buildings untouched but for the blood that painted the walls and floors.
It wasn't long before he arrived at his home. His youngest son, a man of almost ninety years, was the first member of his family that he found dead. Dathomir paused by the old man's body, staring down at the aged face, and the open-eyed expression of horror. But still, Dathomir felt nothing.
He walked inside his house, gracelessly slipping on the blood seeping from his sixty-year-old granddaughter's body. He picked up what remained and moved it to the side so he could walk inside. Her blood soaked into his cotton tunic, but still, he felt nothing.
His great-grandson-in-law lay twitching on the ground in the back bedroom. He was only twenty-five. Dathomir crouched beside the youth, staring into the remaining blue eye on the man's torn face. He croaked something, but without his tongue, it made no sense to Dathomir. The dying man went still, his eye rolling to stare at a bloody bundle in the corner of the room.
Still, Dathomir felt nothing.
It was not until he approached his great-great-granddaughter, her torso ripped open and her legs mangled, that Dathomir felt something. He cradled the two-year-old's tiny body in his arms, and a great keening sound escaped his lips.
Outside, in the quiet, macabre streets of the village Sorren, his howls of grief fell on dead ears.
To be continued...
* "King Elessar, here is your son, the Crown Prince Eldarion, as beautiful as Earendil, and as glorious as gold."
** "To you, child of my heart, I bestow the light of Evenstar that your mother gave me long ago..."
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