To Live Again: The Road to War {Lord of the Rings Fanfiction}|

Book III Sneak Peek

Author Intro;

I think I might have broken half my readers in one short chapter?! If I have caused any emotional trauma I apologise, but c'mon guys, you know what I'm capable of by now...right? Well then, I guess maybe I should explain myself with a little Book III sneak peek.

So, the deets...

Book III is entitled 'To Live Again: Waiting Between Worlds'. It was inspired by an accumulation of thoughts I had regarding struggles - and for those interested in music and poetry the title comes from Zack Hemsey's Lyrical compliment to his instrumental 'Waiting Between Worlds' which is stunning. 

The Book will be the last in the story, and if I play my cards right it should complete the story, bringing it full circle and making it a nice stand alone AU. So, yes, it's full of little threads of my own imagination to fill in the gaps. I've built a lot of original culture for the Silvan, dove into spiritual ideas concerning elven 'bonds', and of course a series of staggered time jumps - as time operates differently for our lovely Elven heroes.  With this in mind some of the chapters might be 'M' but don't worry I don't write smut (a love scene yes, but not smut), and some of those scenes may be rated such because of the emotional content - but I haven't decided yet.

Anyway, just 'cause I'm keen to answer any questions you might have, feel free to post any questions in the comments regarding the story thus far or what is to come? And...don't ask for spoilers...you don't wanna know!!!! lol.

SO...without any further interruption...let's take a sneak peek...

*Release: Friday 1st April 2016*

Synopsis

It is the year 3441 of the Second Age of Arda, it has been seven years since the Siege began on Barad-Dur, and now in the ruined ashes of the blood soaked plains of Mordor, the Alliance claim a narrow victory....but at what cost?

Thranduil's legacy remains safely tucked away in the great eaves of Greenwood - his forest realm - that he has sacrificed all of himself to defend. His true mate, and bonded love, Clara, and his two beautiful children are left in a state of limbo, their futures entirely uncertain.

But Clara, a Vivified immortal with a spirit that shines brightest into the darkest of places, will not let go of her husband so easily. Determined to resurrect the hope of a nation, and restore a broken warrior to a legendary ElvenKing - she fights in every way she knows how.

It is all a waiting game now...waiting between worlds.

Excerpt from Book III

The Halls of the King: Greenwood the Great. SA 3441
*Clara POV*

"Nooo!"

The blood curdling scream from my own lips shocks my body awake, and suddenly I find I am tearing myself from my own bed, in the room I share with my husband, in the peaceful night of our Kingdom. Trembling violently I stagger across the expanse of the room, and grip my dresser, my legs barely able to hold me upright. I only register I am crying so harshly when I find I cannot even breathe for the burning in my lungs, and the fiery salt liquid that pours from my eyes which scalds my cheeks.

"Thranduil?" I call uselessly, and claw at the hallow in my chest were my heart used to be; "Thranduil? No...you can't be...it's not real...I won't believe it!"

Sliding from the dresser with a clatter, I land in a disgraceful heap on the ground surrounded by the broken shards of my many bottles and potions. They cut the skin of my palms, and as I move my feet I feel the glass slice into my bare soles. But the pain is nothing to me, it is merely a tickle compared to the burning of my heart and spirit - for that is what it feels like. It feels like the part of myself that belongs entirely to Thranduil is being consumed by fire and razed to nothing more than ashes. It renders me immobilized, and unable to do anything other than let it tear me apart from the inside out...it is killing me...I am dying!

Dying...dying?

My eyes snap open, and suddenly the cruel, crystal, clarity of my situation hits me. I am not dying, but Thranduil is!

With bitter tears, and heavy almost numb limbs, I pull myself to my feet and stare blankly in the mirror of my dresser. The creature staring back is not humanoid; it is wild and aggressive, it could kill in a moment. Breathing deeply, I dig deep for strength and search for wisdom. I won't let him go...I won't let him die!

I hear voices calling my name, but I can't focus on them, this room is suffocating me...I need outside...I need away...I need to think!

I begin to run, and I don't even know where I am going, I just let instinct takeover, for I don't know what else to do?

When at last I feel grass below my feet, and fresh woodland air in my lungs, I realize I have entered my healing gardens and stand before the young lullaby tree. I bark out a hard laugh at the irony as I examine the vibrant and tall tree. In the past seven years it has almost tripled in height, and it has blossomed so beautifully that one would think a spell lay upon it. Of course a spell may just be upon it, for this is where Celairiel plays. She sings endlessly to this young tree, she pours her little heart and spirit into it, believing she can really draw closer to her Ada by doing so. I inhale sharply and feel like the hole in my chest has been daggered - maybe she can draw closer to her Adar, she is her father's daughter in that respect. Her whole spirit moves with the woodland, just like his - Oh god, I can't lose him!

With that thought I fall at the foot of the tree and weep bitterly into the earth.

I don't know how long I lie there, or how long it is before my indiscernible broken wail turns into frantic prayers. It could be hours, but that means little to me, time has ceased to exist for me now. There is only one long stretch of loneliness before me, and I would rather die than face it. Part of me remembers that there is something I must endure for, it reminds me that I must hold on regardless of how I feel in this moment, yet in my grief I cannot quite call to mind why I must? But I do nonetheless. I don't know when I start to think clearly around the pain, but it comes when I beg the Vala Queen Nienna for her pity, and plead with her to give me endurance to heal this hurt. Once I utter her name, my tears fall afresh but there is strength in them...a vein of strength in me that I did not remember I had. A memory of a time I healed another injustice...my daughter? I brought her back, I gave her my light...I fed her my strength until she could find her own again. Her body had failed her but her spirit had not!

With a sense of urgency I delve into myself, and seek out the almost diminished threads of the bond I share with my husband. The fiery light of his fea is all but embers, as it wraps around the dulling vibrancy of my own spirit - but it is still there.

I focus on those last burning veins of his own flame, his life wanes but it is not gone...it is nowhere near extinguished! It is no less fragile than Celairiel's was at the point of her birth.

I can do this...I have strength enough for this?

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A/N: I just want to take a moment to thank SineadRobyn for the amazing book covers...don't they look so professional? Anyway, my lovelies, I will see you all again on April 1st 2016 (don't worry it's not a fools, it just happens to work with my schedule).