wildernesstales: (LOTR)
[personal profile] wildernesstales
Rating: PG
Summary: Background story for an original role-playing character.
Disclaimer: Lúthien is mine, all other characters mentioned in this story are the property of their creators. My thanks to you my friends.
Authors Note: This was written at a time when I was role-playing on the Tagboard for a bit of fun and explanation.

Lorien smiled at the sleeping elf, her long, formerly blonde hair, spread across the pillows like silken threads. The tear tracks running down her face, now barely visible.
'Indeed, t'would appear I came at the right time this night' he mused to himself.
'What has captured your heart so about this one, Lorien?' Vairë breathed silently, asking the very question Lorien had often asked himself. He started at her sudden presence and glanced down at her.
'Lady, you have weaved such a sad tale for one so young...' Lorien trailed off as the elf shifted postion and mumbled in her sleep. Few words could be distinguished, but it would appear that she was troubled once more. Lorien crossed the room swiftly and leant down close to her.
'Sleep, fair one... sleep, let your dreams be not troubled by the past.' As he whispered, he breathed an enchantment, and the elf did indeed quieten, a soft smile appearing on her lips.
'Come now Lorien, she has lead an easier life than many I have woven. She has suffered neither pain nor anguish' Vairë defended her work against the Master of Dreams, watching him as he straightened at her words, and turned on her angrily.
'Vairë, you have weaved this one a lonely life. As you rightly say, she has suffered no *physical* pain or anguish. Her torment stems from her loneliness.'
'Tis true she has lead a lonely life, but surely, her life is now weaved with affection, she has found friends here, in this place.' Lorien smiled sadly down at the somnambulant young elf, wishing that he could do more than ease her troubled sleep. Vairë crossed the room, and placed a pale hand on his shoulder. 'Lorien, you have done all that you can, it is her life to live, and mine to weave. She is far happier here, now, than she was back in Mirkwood' Lorien sighed and turned to look at Vairë. The Weaver stood uncomfortably under the gaze of his dark eyes.
'Indeed Vairë, I just wish that you had not had to weave such sorrow into her life. Loneliness can claim their feä, just as much as grief or mortal injury...This one is returning to her dreams more and more lately, and there is little I can do, other than bestow memories of happier times upon her rest'
'I admit, I was not happy weaving her story so, but that is the way it must be... you know Manwë's views on interfering with the folk on Arda.'
'Aye, I know, but I am still troubled. This one should not have gone through what she has. No elf should spend so many of their days trawling through that 'King's' treasure, cataloguing every minuscule item. Is it little wonder she was so lonely, when she was so focused on her work?'
'But Lorien, that is one of her strengths, she is a hard worker, and keen to learn. She has learnt much in her life thus far' Lorien nodded, admitting the truth.
"Alas, she has not learnt about friendship and love...' Vairë smiled softly, for only she, aside from Manwë, had foreseen the events that would shape this fair one's life.
'Lorien, she has been through what she has been through to make her the person you see before you. This elf has a great heart, capable of much love. She will find what she desires most here. Indeed, the threads have already been woven, it has begun. She has friends now, and enjoys her work, and has even found love, although she does not know it yet. It is just a pity I have no sway over the other, he is not of this world, and so I may only weave what he does after he does it. I cannot weave what he should do, much as I wish I could... she must find her own way.' Lorien smiled, he knew the one of which Vairë spoke, a troubled individual himself, both as shy as each other, and uninitiated in the ways of love. They were stumbling their way uncertainly towards a relationship, neither sure of the others intentions, and both as afraid as elflings.
'Aye, she will find her way, I can see the determination in her dreams. She is surely growing less afraid, and more willing to open herself up. And as her friends accept her, slowly she will grow braver and less shy...' the Valar paused and chuckled. 'Indeed, as you say, it has begun.'

Morning broke, and Lúthien opened her eyes, shading them quickly from the sunlight streaming in through her window. Sitting up, she struggled to reconcile her dreams of the night. She had felt lonely, as lonely as she had back in Mirkwood, where the other elves shunned her for studying so hard. She had immersed herself in her books, interacting with others only when necessary. It had been a lonely life. But then, her King Thranduil had sent her to Imladris, to aid Lord Elrond and Master Erestor. A shy smile crept upon her. The journey had been long and hard, but the rewards worthwhile. She was more welcome here than she had been at home, indeed, she now thought of Imladris as her home; it's beautiful waterfalls cascading down the cliffs, the trees bright and in full bloom. Not like Mirkwood, which was far darker and less comfortable. Here it was peaceful, and Lúthien could begin to feel herself becoming less restless and happier. Laughing softly to herself, she remembered the first night she arrived, an orgy of people and objects fuelled by drink. No-one back in Mirkwood would have believed the shy scholar to be capable of such frivolity. Although, after that night she had not touched the Undetectable Preserve, she had made friends, who were still her friends. There was Novnariel, a maid of Imladris, gentle and true, with a penance for teasing, but caring none-the-less. And Estelle, a quiet spirit, who friendship was firm and solid. Eldanar, the elfling, whose boisterous adventures amused her frequently. Then Sildil, the now-punk elf.. they had become involved the first night, but never spoke of it. He had been with another, and although that was now over, she still looked upon him with a fondness unmatched. Also, the diaper-wearing cherub, Krit, another firm friend from the start. Although they saw less of each other than Lúthien would prefer, they were still friends, and always pleased to see one another. She felt part of a family now, a family of lost souls, all who had gravitated towards Imladris, in the hopes of happiness. And they were happy, they had each other, they had the shop, where they all met to talk and enjoy themselves. Many people had come through those shop doors, many had left, but some remained. Those who did were regular visitors, and she was proud to call them her friends.
As she braided her now-orange hair, she mused on the events that had lead to the color. Strange visitors from another world had entered the shop, a brave warrior, a quiet historian, a mischievous half-elf, and of course, her one and only. Never before had she felt the way she did now. She felt like she was being swept along by a giant tidal wave, her friends sweeping her through her problems and involving her in their activities. The problems the three of them caused were amusing, and she felt happier than she had been in a long time. Even though they had been picked on of sorts, she did not feel sad, she knew that in reality, they were playing, and intended no harm. Not like others in her past, the ones who had tormented her mercilessly for being so involved in her books. Indeed, it would now appear that their intentions that night were to set her up once more, to try and help her fledgling relationship. Lúthien blushed, feeling that she blushed more now than she ever did, which she took as a good sign, a sign that she was finally comfortable around the people she knew. She was becoming less and less shy. She was still amazed with the concern her friends showed her... never before in her life had she felt so protected and loved. Friends would leap to her defence and caution her against certain activities, yet encourage her in those she could prosper. Lúthien smiled. She was truly happy here now, watching her friends, wishing she could be bolder and more like them, but content... content to finally be herself, brave when the situation called for it, only now did she revert back to being shy when she was uncertain.

She finished braiding her hair, and tied it back, ready to head for the Library, and another day poring over scrolls. Now, at least, she knew that once she had finished transcribing Gondorian laws and rites, she could wander down to the shop to see her friends. Her friends...


Tales from the Wilderness

November 2013

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