Moonstones {Legolas x OC}

Dreaming

** Any words in bold are elvish words or phrases, translations at the bottom**

Nénariel POV

A dark cavern, rather large in size, dimly illuminated by the flames of the few torches that hung on the walls and a large bonfire in the middle. That's where I was. The flames cast eerie shadows, sending shivers down my spine. 

My gaze fell upon the centre and my eyes widened in shock. A group of orcs, many yelling or jeering at something  I could not see, stood gathered round the bonfire. I tried to heave myself off the dirty ground, in an attempt to run -run where, I do not know- before the  creatures noticed me. I was stopped however, as a rope almost as thick as my wrist was tied to one of my ankles and attached to a rock jutting out of the wall, preventing me from going anywhere. I panicked almost immediately and began searching for an object that would be deemed sharp enough to cut through the rope. I was brought to an abrupt stop when I felt a warm and disgustingly clammy hand on my bare neck.

 "Trying to escape, are we?" the orc leered at me, displaying his foul teeth and hitting me with the stench from his breath. I held in a scream as I cowered away as far as possible from him, completely repulsed. 

He turned to his comrades and yelled, "let the she-elf watch!" The group parted, revealing an elleth, most likely rather older than me, lying on the floor. I took in her appearance: her brown hair hung limp and tangled, her once presumably beautiful dress was now reduced to rags, she had a scar down her left cheek that looked quite fresh and next to her lay an elegant and fragile-looking headpiece, a diadem. It was not damaged in any way.

 Within moments, the look of helplessness on her face changed to one of sheer horror. As I turned my head, I realised why. That orc had raised his blunt, battered axe above his head, ready to bring it down on my shoulder. He was stopped when the elleth cried, "please...please...don't hurt her...take me...take me instead...û iell nin ...not my daughter...". 

Suddenly, there was a yell and a series of  bangs and clashes, and a group of about 15 soldiers on horseback charged into the cavern, led by none other than my Adar, Lord Elrond. He made his way first to me, ended the life of the orc about to strike me with one swing of  his sword, and cut my ropes. By now, most of the orcs had been slain and my Adar was making his way to the elleth. Just when he was about to reach her, an arrow with black feathers whizzed through the air past him. 

Time seemed to slow. The elleth's face contorted in pain as the arrow pierced her in the heart. She crumpled to the ground, dead. 

I looked round just in time to see a tall, hooded figure lowering his bow and tucking something sliver and shiny under his cloak. He turned and vanished. Then I remembered. The shiny thing...it was the diadem! I tried to run after him but my legs were weak from standing for so long, and I tripped and fell, and my head struck a rock. Everything blacked out.

My eyes flew open. I sat up quickly. I was trembling all over, there was a sheen of sweat on my forehead, and the side of my head was throbbing in pain. Again. I groaned and slowly lowered my legs down so that they were dangling over the edge of my ridiculously lavish bed. I honestly despise owning such useless luxuries, but since I am the daughter of Elrond, Lord of Rivendell, I am treated and expected to behave like a lady. 

How I had grown to detest this privileged title. I longed for nothing more than to be free, to explore middle-earth to my heart's content, to experience a proper battle, to go on an adventure. But no.  I was confined to the halls of Rivendell, the only excitement I received being the odd patrol (which I was rarely allowed on). 

Instead I was meant to relish the comforts offered to an elf of my status. I should learn to play music, practise needlework and expand my knowledge through the countless books and tutors here. All of which I detested with a hatred as hot as the fires of Mount Doom!

I was being slightly dramatic again. But I can hardly blame myself. Not only do I have to endure these treacherous tasks, but I also must bear listening to the countless courtiers or most of my tutors go on and on and on about how 'perfect' and 'elegant' and 'beautiful' my elder sister Arwen is. If she is as amazing as they say, then she might as well do my lessons as well as her own! 

Do not mistake my words, I love my sister very much. We just do not have that much in common, and she can be rather nagging and mother like- more so since...

I sighed, hopped off the bed and made my way to the washroom. I gazed at my appearance in the looking-glass as I washed my face. My  soft honey hair cascaded down in elegant waves past my hips. My light, almost clear, blue orbs glowed against the creamy complexion of my face. I was different, in looks- mostly everyone in my family had raven hair, and in behaviour- I was more outgoing and frankly did not care what I looked like or what people thought of me. 

My thoughts wandered to the dream that woke me up. It had been plaguing me for months now, to the point where I had memorised every detail. What confused me the most was that the elleth had called me her child. But I have a naneth, or at least I did. She was Celebrian, daughter of  Celeborn and Galadriel, lord and lady of Lothlorien. But she left for Valinor some time ago, the reason for which I was never told. Her leaving nearly tore my family apart, my Adar was overcome with grief, keeping to his study and only appearing at meals, and my brothers, Elladan and Elrohir, going away for long periods of time on all sorts of errands and missions.

I knew that I needed answers, and there was only one person that could grant me this. So I slipped into a comfortable forest-green gown and slippers, braided half my hair back, and made my way to the dining area.

(Gown at top of page)

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Û  iell nin -  Not my daughter

Naneth -  Mother

Adar - Father