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
Frodo Baggins suddenly stopped laughing.
His uncle, Bilbo, gaped at him. Frodo's shirt had began to glow, and the hobbit quickly pulled out Galadriel's Phial. The two hobbits stared at it the item as it glowed with twin expressions of confusion.
"It's not dark...and there's no evil. I do not understand," Frodo whispered. He and Bilbo lived now in Aman. Why would the light from Eärendil's Silmaril shine here? Now?
Frodo looked up at Elrond in surprise. The half-Elf looked down at him sternly, the lines of his mouth brooking no argument. Bilbo opened and closed his mouth, but nothing escaped.
"My grandson is in need of it, Frodo. Open the phial," Elrond commanded.
Frowning slightly, Frodo unstoppered the phial. He, Bilbo, and even Elrond were forced to close their eyes as the light burst forth, showering the garden they were in with its brilliance. And then in the blink of an eye, it was gone.
"Elrond, I don't understand! How will the light reach your grandson? And what does he need of it?" Frodo cried. The Phial had long been his treasure, and it pained him to part with its light.
"The light will reach him when he is ready to accept it. As for what he needs of it, or how he will use it, I do not entirely know, Frodo. But I do know that this is my father's wish that it be released on this day. And that is enough for me," Elrond said gravely and then left as quietly as he had come.
Frodo turned back to his uncle clutching the empty phial in his hand. "What do you suppose happened to the light, Frodo?" Bilbo asked when Elrond departed.
"I don't know, Bilbo. I suppose it's off to help someone who needs it more than I," Frodo answered slowly.
"Elven givers," Bilbo grumped.
Elrond Halfelven sat down on a bench in his garden when he was alone. He looked up at the sky, his mouth set in a grim line.
Somewhere up there, Elrond's father, Eärendil, traversed across the sky with Elrond's mother, Elwing, at his side. They traveled the sky in Eärendil's ship, lighting t he heavens with the evening star. On a crown on Eärendil's brow rested the last of the Silmarils. He was myth, he was legend, he was hero.
He was also the father Elrond had not seen in millennia.
True happiness escaped Elrond, even in the Undying Lands. He would not ever see his wife, Celebrian, again nor would he see his daughter, Arwen. Though he had his twin sons, Elladan and Elrohir, in Aman with him, they were not the jewel that Arwen and her mother had been to him. He longed for the women of his life.
He had never met his grandchildren: his grandson or his eight granddaughters. He had seen glimpses of them in pools, courtesy of Gandalf and Galadriel, who were just as interested in the progeny of Aragorn and Arwen. Yet, the thought of Eldarion weighed heavy on Elrond's heart, as heavy as the longing for his wife and daughter. In the young prince of Gondor lay the last hope for Men against the remnants of Morgoth's shadow. In he who bound the sundered lines of Luthíen together, lay the final promise of Eärendil and his Silmaril.
Elrond prayed his grandson was strong enough to fulfill his destiny.
Elessar awoke to the clamoring of his guards by his bedside. He sat up, glancing at his window, and was mortified to discover it was close to dusk. He had slept the entire day.
"King Elessar! Lord Gimli was found wounded! You must come see him!" Captain Nesba cried.
Elessar dressed in less than a minute, foregoing his royal vestments for simple black leathers and his crown. He and Nesba hurried off to Gimli's bedchambers, where Arwen was tending the wounded Dwarf.
Elessar rushed to his friend's side, noting the paleness of the Dwarf's normally ruddy skin. Gimli smiled weakly at Arwen who lay a wet cloth upon his brow. "Thank you, my Lady. I say, if you weren't so tall and smooth, you'd be rather lovely," Gimli said weakly.
Arwen smiled down at the Dwarf. "I have never received a greater compliment, my brave friend. Rest yourself," she said, and stepped away, letting Gimli sleep. Elessar questioned her with his eyes.
"We found him only an hour ago, Estel. He has been clawed viciously at his midsection. If his fevered rambling can be trusted, it was by the servant girl he seeked. He said she turned into a monster. It looks like some great animal rended him. If he was any less of Dwarf, I reckon he would be dead. We have bound his wounds, and Lady Myanne said he should be fine," Arwen said smoothly.
"If you are in here, who is guarding Legolas?" Elessar asked sharply.
Arwen blinked. "Myanne is with him, I did not think-"
But Elessar had flown out of the door before she finished her sentence.
Elessar was not surprised to find young Myanne dead, but the state of her body did surprise him. The plump girl was missing her throat, right breast, and left leg. Her arms looked chewed upon. Even with as many battles as he had been through, the site of the poor girl caused Elessar to cover his mouth and choke back a sob.
This was only just outside Legolas' door.
Elessar barely even realized he did not have Anduril at his side, and instead pulled the concealed dagger from his boot. He slowly pushed the door to Legolas' room open, his body tensed for any attack.
The door slowly creaked open, and Elessar found himself staring into frightening red eyes glittering from the shadows of Legolas' bed.
Elessar took a step forward, hearing his guard clamor up behind him. As he slowly entered the room, he realized the servant girl was holding Legolas in her arms. Elessar's stomach dropped in fear for the Elf. And then he realized that the girl had a monstrous shape.
The servant girl was no girl at all, and she grinned at the King of Men, revealing a maw of razor-sharp teeth. Her pale skin was stretching across glittering white scales, and vicious talons extended from her slim fingers. Her eyes were like a cat's, but all red with slitted black pupils. Elessar came up short in shock, realizing he was facing what looked like a Skin-changer, but one of demon origin. She was nothing like Beorn, if indeed that was what she was.
"Aragorn...?" Legolas asked groggily, falling against the girl, who was growing taller as her skin stretched more. Legolas was still heavily drugged, his eyes half-mast and his body limp.
"Who are you?" Elessar croaked, wishing he had Anduril in his hand.
The demoness grinned more, holding Legolas tightly, and wrapping a taloned hand around his slim throat. "I am Chalke, Mistress of Daemons, and lieutenant of Issoryss' Demon armies. I have come for the youngest Prince of Mirkwood and the King of Gondor," she hissed out in a bemused tone.
Elessar drew himself up. "I am Elessar Telcontar, King of Gondor. Release my friend, Legolas, or I will slay you where you stand!" he cried, brandishing his dagger.
"With that pigsticker? I think not, King of Men. I am no fool," Chalke laughed, and behind her, the air seemed to ripple like a lake that had a stone thrown into it.
Elessar said nothing, but lunged at the demoness with his dagger. To his mortification, the dagger rebounded off her flesh and she knocked him back against a wall with a flick of her wrist. Chalke laughed, and turned around to push Legolas into the ripple of air. The Elf disappeared with a rush of air.
Elessar cried out as Chalke turned to him. Legolas was lost! He had failed him!
"Now, it is your turn, King of Men. Shame you did not drink of my draught, for this would be much easier if you were weak and useless," Chalke said easily. She smiled, and she suddenly shrank, the monstrous form of her body receding so her skin was smooth and flawless. Once again, she was a lovely girl, now with white hair and skin, and clad in red leathers. Her demonic eyes remained unchanged, however.
Elessar rushed the white demoness, but again, his dagger proved useless, even on Chalke's human flesh, and he was flung back into a wall. Blood trickled from Elessar's forehead, and he heard the clamoring of his soldiers rushing to his aid. His eyes were unfocused and he found himself in a battle for consciousness.
Chalke laughed out loud and held out her hand. In it formed a great red sword, looking as though it was carved from crystallized blood. As Elessar's soldiers rushed the demoness, she carved into them right and left, slicing many of them in half. It was as sharp as a razor, and apparently the female monster knew how to put her weapon to use.
"Hahahahaha! Pathetic little mortals, do you truly think you can compare to the might of the greatest of the Daemons? I will slay you all!" she cried, slicing into the second wave of soldiers that attacked her. She had not a scratch on her, but many of Elessar's men were sliced in half, and not a few were dead.
"Hold!! Do not attack her, or she will slay you where you stand!" Elessar screamed, coming to his feet, trying to fight the dizziness the knocks to his head had given him. He would not let his people die like this.
Elessar half-turned and realized his wife was rushing towards him, Anduril in one hand, her own sword in the other. She flung his sword, still in its scabbard, and Elessar caught it easily, swinging it at the demoness, its sheath flying off.
Chalke's eyes narrowed and she hissed, baring sharp, cat-like teeth. "The re-forged weapon that defeated Sauron. Let us see if you can put your piece of metal to good use, little Man," Chalke said dangerously, brandishing her sword at Elessar.
Arwen did not wait for Elessar, but rushed Chalke from the side, screaming in Elvish. "Saurirauko! Na wanwa e marnya, egor tyéluvanye kuilelya o anqualme!"* she cried as she met the demoness blade for blade.
Elessar had forgotten Arwen's skill with a blade. While she was not a warrior, Arwen, like all Elves, knew a little of everything, and swordsmanship numbered amongst her skills. Chalke was taken by surprise but the demoness quickly blocked the Queen of Gondor's blows, the sound of their swords meeting echoing in the hallway. Elessar's remaining guards watched in stunned silence, most never having known until now that their queen even knew which end of a sword to hold.
Elessar rushed into the fray, knowing his wife was trying to buy him precious time and allow him to find Chalke's weak spot. With her Elven blade and Elven skill, Arwen could provide the distraction that none of Elessar's men could. Elessar attacked Chalke's flank, but the demoness was quick, and though placed on the defensive, she was blocking the blows on both sides from the rulers of Gondor. Unfortunately, Chalke was not only skilled, but fast and strong beyond mortal comprehension. She was proving to be both king and queen's match.
Arwen cried out as her sword shattered from a particularly vicious cut from Chalke. The Elf fell back in surprise, blocking her face from the shrapnel. Elessar lunged in fury at Chalke, slicing into the demoness' side and then rushing to his wife's side in concern.
Chalke hissed and her side oozed foul black-red blood, her flesh burning and crisping where Anduril had touched it. She said something in a foul language Elessar didn't recognize and then jumped through the ripple of air, disappearing.
"Arwen! Meldanya, quetan ni!"** Elessar cried, examining his wife worriedly. His guards surrounded him, some looking at the ripple in concern.
"No!" Arwen cried to his men, as Elessar pulled the pieces of her sword that had pierced her skin out. Most of her injuries seemed minor. "Do not go near that! It is a darkportal, its other side can only lead to the residence of a powerful evil!"
Elessar's head snapped up and he stared at the dark portal, the ripples of air darkening as an image of Legolas' face twisted in pain swam into view. Elessar gasped.
Aragorn, help me! Save me! Do not leave me here!
Elessar took a step forward as his men backed away from the darkportal, staring between their king and queen warily. Arwen grabbed her husband's wrist.
"Umme, Estel. Manoi nás keenalye, umme wanya ana ta. Nás neume,"*** she pleaded, begging her husband not to go to the darkportal.
Aragorn! Please don't leave me alone! They are hurting me!
Elessar was torn in two. Legolas was in danger. But his wife was begging him to stay.
Please, Aragorn, I need you...
A tear streaked down Elessar's cheek. His heart broke with the choices now presented him. Save Legolas, or protect Arwen?
Which would he choose?
* "Foul demon! Be gone from my home, or I will end your life with a most painful death!"
** "Arwen! My beloved, speak to me!"
*** "Don't, Estel. Whatever it is you see, do not go to it. It is a snare."
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