Story Downloaded from Open Scrolls Archive (https://www.openscrolls.net)

Title: Gypsy's Way (#18)
Author: Legowen
Chapters: 6

Archive: Tolkien
Category: Lord of the Rings
Description: Almost twenty years before the WR, before the Fellowship of the Ring and before the destruction of the one ring the remaining Gypsy's of Middle earth are an eclectic and misunderstood peoples. Finally there story is told.-COMPLETED-
Published: 12 May 2003
Updated: 20 May 2003
Warnings: Rape
Type: Romance
Characters: Original


Chapter 1 - Prolouge: "Shadow of the Past, Light of the Future"

The rain was like ice.

If it had been any colder it very well could have been, but clinging to the remnants of fall the weather had decided to remain wet.
Very wet.

Pushed from a Corsairs ship into the grips of the ice cold sea type of wet.
And it continued to downpour, the winds shaking all that it could touch. And that included the man whom stood braced against a tall sort of hut in the middle of a forest clearing.

He lean against it for the little protection it could afford, pulling his cloak about him tighter, his black leather overcoat beneath keeping him warm as well.
Turning his head slightly to the closed door flap he listened best he could for any sign of change inside.
Nothing.

Nothing at all had changed. That was not nessicarily a good thing.
For beyond the pounding tempest above and the winds around one could hear the painful cries of a woman in labor.

//but a child// the former Ranger caught himself thinking once more.
It had been no shock but a great sadness to find that Haradrim armies had made there way through the Wosies lands.
They had for the most part kept there distance from the natives of Druadan forest.

Until now.
He had known they could be ruthless, but to attack a village filled with defenseless women and children was always the sign of upmost cruelty.

As a former Ranger he knew better than to state that all of any race were evil, except if they were. Arc and goblins for example were all evil and nothing more could be said of it.

But those of the human races were not so easily categorized. One could not blame a people who did not know better, and one could not simply wish to destroy there whole race because not all had a choice in what goes on in the wars of Men.
The women and children often had no voices and suffered the most.
He had always wondered about the logic of his world.

And within the primitive yet effective hut of the Wosies one of those 'Children' suffered needlessly.

She was Royalty, it should not have happened. Even if she hadn't been, it should have not happened anyway.
The girl was such, just a girl barely over 13 summers in age.

He shook his head, dark blonde curls drenched in rain water dispelled there droplets upon his already slick face.
One clung stubbornly to the tip of his nose, and his gloved hand moved up and wiped it away best he could
Not that it mattered, his gloves were covered in water as well.

//Why are you here// an annoyed voice asked him loudly within his cranium. //Because I am there friend, that Is why// he responded back, glad that speaking in ones mind was not as strange looking as it actually was.

He indeed was there friend. One of the only outsiders that were allowed to enter these areas unrestricted were his clan of people. The Gypsy's.
Though he had been a Ranger of the North and Arnor, his heart had always remained with his Gypsy kin and when he had served many many years with the men in the North, he joined his kin and traveled the eves and passages of the wanderers.

The man seemed as if he was in his middle age. Strong weathered features and bronzed skin that showed a love for the outdoors, and a face crowned in golden wavy hair of his Dunedain ancestry.
His eyes were grey blue and sparkled with life. There depths revealed a personality of kindness, mischief and loyalty.

He was a Ranger no doubt, even though he no longer served to protect actively. Once a Ranger, always a Ranger he always said.
He had hear such sayings often, 'One can take the Ranger out of the wilds, but one can never take the wilds out of the Ranger'.
He almost chuckled aloud, it was quite humorous now that he thought of it.
The sound of labored screams inside sombered him very quickly, remember why he was there.

The Wosies were an ancient people, one of the First Alden believe. He had never mentioned his theories to anyone else, but it seemed that they were so ancient they might have been related to the first Men who walked upon Middle-earth and soon later learned from the First born how to speak.

It was a thought of fancy and he pushed it aside once again. He must indeed be suffering more from the cold and wet than he thought. His mind was trying to find anything else to think about other than what had occurred here many months ago.

They had ransacked the whole village, and plundered what they could. Mostly food stores and such, as the wosies had nothing of value to the Haradrim world for sale.
But it was not what object they had taken that made the man boil with fury.

It was what they had taken from the women of the village that infuriated him.

He saw no purposed in forcing one self upon a woman except for the gaining of power. It was indeed sick and made his body shiver, part from cold and part from the thought of it.

They took what they wanted on there raids, including the women. Then they murdered all in a rush of pillaging and destruction.

It had been the same few groups he knew, as most of the Haradrim and such were not savage beasts. Warriors perhaps, misguided perhaps as well, but not monsters.

The Haradrim were men as much as they were misjudged, and no true man would take a child.

And now many moons later here he was, awaiting the birth of a child born from a moment of terror. The ancient people feared its coming, they did not comprehend the minds of outsiders. They did not wish to be a part of it.
They had there own culture, religion, believes and goings...what did they care of those who only spite them anyway.

And these deep fears had led to a deep wariness as well.

He did not know what had encouraged him to do so, perhaps because he had known the child's parents. The Chieftain and his wife of a small prosperious village he and his Caravan had settled among many a time.
He felt it his obligation, being a person of the outside, to pay amends for what the assailant had taken from them.

A high pitched wail cut across the still storm filled air.
It was not that same, it was different and it made him turn his head sharply. It was over, it had been done.

It was weak yet getting stronger, over and over. The type of cry and pulled at all adults heartstrings.
It was the cry of an infant.

Now he waited impatiently, this time because he wished to see what was inside not because he wished to leave.

The cold and the wet and the wind were forgotten for the moment as he wait anxiously, like an expecting father.
That was not far from the truth as it was, he was to take this child into his care. He had offered it, afraid of what its future would be with all around it frightened of what it may become. They simply did not understand.

He fancied he heard nearing foot falls, and when the flap rustled he squeezed his fists briefly to rid of the sudden rise in nervousness.

It opened and a faint light flooded, surrounding the soaked glade in light. And before him stood an elderly Wosie woman, in her hands a swaddled bundle.

He had to lean down to take it from her, being as careful as a porcelain merchant with the new bundle. It had already been wrapped in many blankets warm and thick, but he slid it within his cloak for extra protection. There it would be warm and dry at the same time.

"Girl, Akilah" she said using crude Westorn, her voice deep and even. The younger man nodded slightly, nodding his head towards the entryway.

'And the child' he asked softly in the Wosies tonge, unsure if he wanted the answer.
She simply nodded her head side to side sadly and turned inside the leather and wooden hut.

He stood there unmoving for many long moments. She had not survived then, and it saddened his heart.
Her life had been so short.

A stirring in his arms brought him back to reality and he looked down, not sure what he would see. And what he did glimpses in the now fading light coming from the half opened hut flap made him smile.
Tiny, that was the first thing he thought.

Face, eyes, nose, lips...everything on her was tiny. She made a soft strangled cry and he instinctively began to bounce her gently, attempting to sooth the tiny person he now hold.

He drew the babe closer for warmth and almost instantly noticed her smell. Funny thing to notice he knew, as it was pelting rain and he should be moving.
But it was different, fresh, and his smile widened as she opened her eyes. Blinking them slowly before staring at him, as if trying to make him out.

They were a hazy grey-blue color and he was shocked and wondered if they would stay that color.
Soon he realized that it was very cold and nowhere for a newborn to be. Shifting her weight in his arms again to make sure she was secure and dry, and putting his hand upon the hilt of his sword with the other (as he allways did), he began to move on towards the waiting caravans in the darkness.

"Welcome to the Gypsy's of Brikidan Akilah, I am Alden Emanuel Alyard the III. I think you may like it here" He stated, the sun rising and the rain slowing down as he did. The night behind him and before him a clear and hopeful morning.

As well as a hopeful future...


Chapter 2 - Chapter 1: "The road that ever goes on..."

A warm summer wind swept across the plains of Rohan picking up heat and speed in the open lands. It continued it journey, brushing grass and tree, blade and leaf. Sweeping across the top of water, making waves and ripples, it gained speed as it moved north through Middle-earth.

It was spring, and all creatures rejoiced in its coming. Any snow that had been left from winters cold hand, had now melted and fed all growing things. Now Arien warmed all things below her, feeding plant life and signaling the birth of life in all lands.

Through winter and summer, spring and autumn a small band of peoples traveled. They were the Gypsys of Brikidan, a small outpost for traders and merchants amidst the woods of the Trollshaw.

Though Brikidan be their home, being Gypsys, they were ever moving. It was not common to sight one, and cause people to stop and watch as several giant wooden 'carts' of sorts passed. Carved of rich healthy trees, they had intricate designs woven into the wood. And those were often brightly colored of flowers and creatures no one had ever seen.

These were the Caravans of the Gypsy's. One of the last Caravans who stayed in Middle-earth. Most others who transverse across all lands in the older days of the world, now sought refuge beyond the Desert Lands or now their traveling paths had been cut short to just Brikidan.

Though every three years they would gather in the town to celebrate the passing of the Yule and the coming of the New Year.

The large sturdy wheels of the caravans rolled over grass and stone, pulled along by large sturdy horses. Each as colorful as the contraptions they pulled.

To most unknowing person, Gypsys conjured up visions of magic and tattered peoples who stole for their benefit and danced the night away. This as many myths had its roots in fact, but the reality could not be far from that.

Gypsys were merchants, artisans, hunters and yes even dancers. These Gypsys were no thief's, in fact, it was well known by those who knew them well, that all Gypsys had a loathing for Thief's. And Thief guilds for them.

Gypsys made, Thief's stole...it was how it had been since the beginning.

It was not that Gypsies did not have a thief's skill, as many were deft at the art of pick pocketing and slight of hand, they usually only used it in times of need. Thief's had a saying "every day is a time of need" and thus ones of those groups took the skills to an art form.

On this sunny spring day there was an air of nervousness. Something not befitting the loveliness of the weather and the temped breeze that blew. This Caravan was not scheduled to cross the mountains until late summer, it was now only early spring.

Paths that were once safe as anything could be in those dark times, were not so any longer. They now had to worry about warring tribes and orc's.





Alden looked to his right and left for the hundredth time that morning. He did not like the feeling of uncertainty. A creature of habit, he was used to the same paths all his life.

Starting from Brikidan the Gypsys made their way down and into a hidden path in the south end of Hithaeglir. These paths were lost to all but a few and lead out of the Misty mountain directly between Lothlorien and Fangorn.

Their Alden was quite friendly as any man would be, with the Eldar of the Golden wood. They passed through their fields peacefully far from the actual wood, and being a gentle people, respected the lands of the Elves and that of nature.

They then made their way on the outskirts of Fangorn, avoiding the mysteries that lie within. It was also said that they Gypsys had ancient agreements with the treehearders, though now there were too few of them to control the trees that grew wild. At one time the travelers would make their way directly through Fangorn, when evil was still strong in Dol Guldur...but now the way was dangerous.

Being a horse loving people, they were welcome in Rohan.



As welcome as Gypsys get, and would travel to many of the Rohhirim towns. Trading their wares for provisions, as Gypsys wares were very sought out and valuable for their beauty and strong quality. And two of their horses being stallions, were bred for their color to Rohan mares. In turn Rohan stallions were bred to the two Gypsy mares for quality. Alden also was known for his fine leathers that would become the riding tack of the Rohan peoples. The path then taking them through the gap of Rohan and onward to Druwaith laur.

Druwaith laur being the lands of the Wosie's and their kin. This was one of the places the Gypsys were fully welcome, and their they stayed for a while in peace. Between the Mountain and the sea.

Often they moved onward through the mountains and into Gondor. This path was not known by many men, and for the most part ignored by those in Minas Tirth who had a say of who goes in and out of the lands. After all they had more to worry about than a peaceful traveling band of merchants.

In the old days Alden could remember a longer journey through Gondor and into the lands of Harad. They would trade among the gathering of the Haradrim tribes and meet with other Gypsys of their sort. Whence things changed for the worse in Middle-earth all but a few of the bands took their paths through the deep desert, and into the deep jungles beyond Harad...and some say out into lands that had never been traveled by any now living.

Expect Alden. He had been as far south that he had seen things that no one could comprehend. Tribes and nations of amazing peoples that none of the North had ever seen but glimpsed in the faces of the Gypsys of Brikidan. Jungles where it rained every day and birds of colors that could not be named sung their unique songs among its foliage. Beyond that parries and grasslands and more deserts of all types. Creatures related to the Oliphant's, and ones that walked on legs taller than trees. Alden knew that their was more than he could ever seen in a lifetime, though he had heard tales.

Of lands where Emperors stood on golden thrones in forbidden cities, were wild felines grew to immense proportions and hunted in groups, ones that were spotted like the rays of sun on the water who hid in the trees, or ran as fast as the wind.

Of herds and herds of horned creatures grazing plains as far as the eye could see, and the place where Arien would rise as large and hot in all her glory.

He was told of peoples who's skin were as dark as Ebony, or those that were as fair as porcelain, and everything in between.

Of a nation that worshiped many gods and built monuments larger than anything seen since the creations of the Numenoreans, golden and tall these triangles in the desert towered.

He even heard tale of a giant ocean and that their were lands beyond where a number immeasurable of peoples and creatures and lands could be found. This was even far fetched for him, though part of him wished it to be true.

Yet despite all his wishing and dreaming of far off lands of golden temples, wide plains, vast deserts and wild creatures, he was quite happy in his middle age to follow routine.

For three and a half days the Gypsys passed through dark caverns in the Misty Mountains. Closed in on either side, it was said that it had begun as a great hall for a Dwarf people now long gone. It was now lost in all knowledge by all but Gypsys and perhaps a few others.

Parts of their path came across walls of open Mithril veins. This is where the Gypsys took the raw materials for their metal crafts, though they removed only what was needed and never became greedy in the taking. This was also the home of an underground water system which bore away deep caverns to reveal jewels of all sorts ripe for the picking.

The gypsy's again took only small provisions of these jewels, already cut to fine shapes my a millennia of erosion. And again they would touch none of the larger beauties, believing they belonged to the mountains itself.

Soon sunlight could bee seen and the caravans made their way out. The Horses though brave and many used to the caverns, were glad for the true open lands.

It was still a lovely day when Alden and his company came out the other way. The doors closed seamlessly behind them. It would be two days before they were between Fangorn and Mirkwood. Alden was unsure of Dol Guldur, before they were never seen, but now he knew they would have to take an old road through Fangorn and trust to old friendships.









----------------------------------------------------------------








They arrived two days later during the night, with no event. The forest was quiet, recognizing the band and their peaceful intentions. And for this Alden was most thankful. To peer through the lighter side of foliage one cold just barely make out the field beyond, and beyond that...the lining that made up the greenwood.

It was a quiet night, yet not a dangerous silence. With good fortune, they would go about unnoticed. A fire was quickly set up in the center of their encampment, and the horses tethered for the night.

"What is it Alden?" A heavily accented voice came from behind. Senon was approaching from the Caravans, his second in command's dark eyes searching beyond the foliage.

"Nothing out of the Ordinary, thank the Vala. And I hope for it to remain that way. No news is good news I always say" Alden grinned in the dark and pat the younger man on the shoulder.

He made his way back to the Caravans, stepping over branches and logs. Little did they know that their modest fire had indeed caught the attention of another being. Alden's passed the horse that pulled his caravan and gave the stallion a pat on his shoulder, the the horse lifted his head, chewing the grass he pulled from the ground. And Alden disappeared to see to the rest of his companions.

The eyes that watch them from a distance went unnoticed by all, except the keen senses of the Stallion. He quietly dropped his head again to graze, one ear turned in that direction.

They were being watched.








----------------------------------------------------------------








//Twenty one steps, turn, twenty one steps.// Alden paused between the food table and a Caravan. Then began his pacing once more. Early that morning his adopted daughter Akilah had vanished, taking her bow and quiver. He knew she went to stalk out some game...but she had gone alone. And that bothered him immensely.

//Valar, why does this child insist on graying me prematurely// he sighed and turned, taking twenty more steps. The sound of blades of grass and dirt crunching underneath his boot.

From the top of the steps of one of the caravans small patios, Ninaska watch Alden pace.

"Peace Alden, we will seek her" It was a rare thing indeed to hear Helaku speak. The young man was silent most of the times and spoke only when spoken to. He gathered his own bow in his hands and swung his quiver upon his back, Adjusting his white tunic and colorful vest.

"Ill go to, not to worry. She has probably just lost track of the time" Senon smiled hopefully and sheathing his curved sword at his side, he followed his friend. Alden ran a hand through his dusty blonde, graying hair. Blue eyes watched the two young man move off into the brush. Senon nudged Helaku, and in return Helaku pushed Senon easily almost knocking him off his feet. Both men laughed and disappeared into the brush. Alden could only shake his head, a grin stubbornly making its way to his lips.

"They shall find her sister son, you need not worry. The girl is strong, she knows her way" Ninaskah watch Alden with old grey-blue eyes. She was the most patient person he knew, helping raised Alden, then Akilah. He wished he had her patience.

"I worry more about them getting themselves into trouble" he groaned and turned from where Helaku and Senon had gone, took a deep breath, and then twenty more steps.









----------------------------------------------------------------








If ones eye was not trained to perfection, one would not have caught the woman crouched down low in the brush that was the a small rivers that lie directly between the Goldenwood and Fangorn. She knew she should not be there, she knew it was dangerous. She just did not care.

Perhaps it was not so much a lack of care for boundaries, but more the thrill of the hunt. She pushed herself up more and watch her quarry move casually trot to the waters edge. Cursing her luck, she wait for the right time. She should not be there, not so close. And now she should not be thinking of doing what she was about to. Moving with fluid grace she rose and silently as she could, made her way inside the outskirts of Lothlorien.

They were quite far from where the elves would be. And she was sure that they would not notice. Not even the mystical Eldar could see all at once. She was not about to take down any of the animals, she just wanted to watch. Her dark thick hair plated back and away from her face. Her head had been bound by her head shawl, but it was now hanging loosely upon her shoulders. The deer were quite large here, something rare where she came from. Their cotton-like white tails batting back and forth as they graze. The heard had many beautiful healthy females, several new fawns and one impressive buck. It was this buck that impressed her the most. She wanted to get a closer look.

Akilah's feet took her closer and instinct told her where to move and hide. Finding a perfect spot where she would be hidden, yet she could see the animals Suddenly without noise Helaku dropped himself directly next to Akilah. She was not startled nor was she surprised, her keen ears heard him coming. "I hope you didn't bring..." Her words were cut short by the soft sound of a twig cracking under Senon's hand.

It was a soft sound, yet the encompassing forests on either side took it up and made it echo. The deer became startled and started to bound off.

Akilah cursed under her breath and both her and Helaku turned their faces to look at Senon between them. Both hands rising in unison and deftly smacking him in the back of his head. He said nothing, only rubbing his head and mouthing 'what?', the question getting him another glare from Akilah.

She sighed, disappointed at losing the fine heard. She had wanted to watch them more. Then pulled her head shawl back upon her head, the red silk bound tightly in the proper fashion.

Suddenly a horrible sound pierced the air, out of nowhere it seemed a band of Orcs! And in the light!

All three rose suddenly, the deer appearing again, startled by the evil beasts. Akilah, Helaku and Senon ran along side the deer, startled birds above their heads. It was chaos, the creatures were not chasing the dear, they were being chased. Hundreds of arrows began to fly, killing many of them, and the deer were frantic. Yet for all she tired, Akilah could not spot the archers who hunted the Orc.

Senon fell back and did his best to avoid the sharp hooves of the hysterical creatures. Orcs just missing him. Soon they had been noticed and now it was their turn to fight. Still on the ground Senon pulled his sword with a sharp 'cling', the curved blade glinting in the light.

Helaku was already hard at work, arrows flying as he backpedaled, avoiding the dear who were now disoriented. They circled and circled around all of them. Trying to avoid the orcs and the arrows.

"We must get out of here or we will be caught between angry orc and angry antlers!" Galttaro said, finally gaining his balance, one foot in the water the other braced on solid ground as he had fallen halfway into the stream. They were no match for Orc party, perhaps with the aid of Alden, but not this.

"Run!!" Helaku cried, always the voice of logic, and ran straight for Senon, grabbing his arm and turning his head to look for Akilah. He almost stopped when he could not see her, it was Senon's force and tugging that kept him moving, dodging arrow after black arrow as one or two of the Uruk-hai tried to catch them, perhaps thinking the arrows were coming from their bows. He threw himself into Fangorn and was tugged by Helaku into a safe hiding place.

It seemed forever before it had quieted down, only one scare as a deer bounded past them into the forest. Senon had his hand on his chest, trying to catch his breath and slow his heart after that doe startled him. Helaku as usual looked calmer than his counterpart, but he was not relieved.

He nearly ran back out into the grassy field, breathing hitched Senon followed. "Where...gasp...is...she?" He lowered his hands to his knees, doubled over in an attempt to get air into his lungs. Helaku only nodded, his jet black hair shaking about his neck. His face was that of fear, and that did not bode well to Senon. When Helaku was unnerved, it was time to be seriously worried.

"We have to find her! What if she's hurt" Helaku turned to Senon and grabbed his friends arm, pulling even as the man resheath his sword. They both walked to where they had been crouched before. Orcish bodies were littered about the area and they stepped round them gingerly, least one be alive.

Cupping one hand over his brown eyes, Senon search the surrounding area for any sign of their younger 'sister'. With another sudden rush of fear and noise, a still living Goblin reach up and grab his leg. He could not unsheathe his blade quick enough, and just as the foul beast growled and went to swing its own weapon it fell, dead. Another arrow protruding from its back.

Startled, Senon had no words. His jaw just hung open and he stare at the felled thing as he pulled his leg from its vice-like grip. Helaku step beside Senon, and nudged him slightly. Finally able to recover he looked at his friend to question him and noticed instantly that Helaku was staring ahead. He too looked ahead, eyes wide.



"uh oh.." was all he could say....


Chapter 3 - Chapter 2: "Of little deer, and big problems"

Akilah had barely seconds to register that she was in deep trouble. She had been separated from Helaku and Senon and being together had been their best chance to survive.
She barreled after the deer, almost matching their pace. Yet because they were many, she had been missed by the stray Uruk-hai arrows.

Instinct guide her to the center of the heard, she could be hidden there. Fear drove her into the forest that was known as Lothlorien.

She had made it a good distance into the wood when her foot gave way, sending her falling. A root had caught her boot and she tripped over her skirts, landing hard. Her head connected with the ground, and for the soul purpose that it was soft earth, she did not break open her skull.
Groggily lifting her head, she blinked away tears of pain from her jaw. She had landed hard on it, and now it stung with pain.
Taking a breath as one last deer leapt over her, she pushed back her shawl quickly to watch a young buck take off after his heard.

Out of lack of air and pain from falling and tripping she let her head fall once more. She would hopefully be safe here.
All thought of anything left her mind for many minutes, it seemed as her breathing softened and slowed.

Their was no sign of the approaching footsteps. A tall form appeared, seeming to move seamlessly about the foliage.

He move closer and went down on one knee, tilting his head in a most Elven fashion. Long silky black hair was kept tied back into a single complex Elven-braid at the back of his head, the rest of his hair spilling forward as he lean over the girls still form.

Tinnuldur was not sure what he should do. Before him lie a human, a female none the less. And young by the looks of her. What if she were dearly injured, perhaps even passed on?

His Azure blue eyes searched her over and up and down. Finally one hand moved slowly toward her head, thinking to push back the red fabric to give him a clear view of her face.

Even the skill by which he gained over many thousands of years could prepare him for what was to come. He had not expected it, after all she was human and a child none the less.

With surprising speed for a human, she gripped his arm and moved.
He was swung quickly upon his back and pinned to the ground, her hands firmly on his shoulders, her weight upon his chest.
So stunned was he that he did not think to move. His beyond blue eyes just staring at this being who now sat atop of him, his quiver digging annoyingly into his back.
As instinct kicked in, it was his turn for action.
With frightening reflexes he revealed his Noldorin dagger, holding it at a killing position on her neck.
The silky material of her red head covering was swept back with a 'swooshing' sound by the super quick action.
Yet with the air of an Elf, she did not even blink.

For minutes they stay their like that until Tinnuldur decided to be the one to speak.
"You would perish by my blade" he reasoned with cool Elven tact.
The look of a slight grin on her face only made him frown. He did not comprehend what was so humorous. To him the situation was completely in his favor.

He was an Elf, with an Elven blade pressed to a delicate mortal neck, in Elven lands. He had the upper hand in every way.
Yet to Akilah, she had the upper hand. She had a full grown elf pinned upon his back. Held firmly to the ground. And on top of this, he was pouting.
This would be the last time he would underestimate a human female.

And again with the coordination of a illusionist, she revealed a short yet efficient dagger from her sleeve. It slid down and into her waiting palm, her hand on his shoulder being close enough for her to position it on his neck. She stare at him, her expression serious "Then it would be mutual, as you would die by mine".

It was the most melodious laugh that Akilah had ever heard. And even she could not help but smile at their situation.
Both moved their daggers away at the same time and Akilah shook her head, hands on her hips a she allow him up slightly and off his quiver and arrows. His bow cast aside from where she flipped him.

"Well I guess all the legends of the Elves being more highly skilled than Mortals was highly over embellished" She commented, one eyebrow raised saucily .
He mimic the expression slowly nodding, then with speed that could rival lightning it was her turn to be tipped over and pinned.
Tinnuldur's Elven strength and speed being far superior to even hers.

His face hovered dangerously above her own, Akilah's eyes wide with surprise. Her hands pinned to the sides of her face and her body under him, she could not move even if her life depended on it.
"I think not, my lady" He spoke soft in a thick Elven accent of one not accustomed to speaking Westron.

He did not movie right away, and Akilah became painfully aware of his body pressed to hers. Their breath mingling until he finally pulled back.
He removed himself from her person and stood with fluid grace, offering her a hand.
She took it after a moment and stood, readjusting her clothes and trying not to seem as flustered as she felt.

She would never underestimate the abilities of an Elf.
Especially this one.

After she had seemed to straighten herself out, Tinnuldur handed her blade back to her. Re-sheathing his own dagger, and sliding his bow back across his shoulder.

With a yelp that took Tinnuldur aback she started for the fields.
Tinnuldur caught up with her easily and grabbed her arm, afraid that perhaps she walk into danger if any Uruk-hai still lived, just waiting to ambush them.
"Please I must find my companions." She pleaded trying to pull away, only thinking about Senon and Helaku and how she had been separated from them.

"It is dangerous. I would escort you if you permit me, my lady. I can be of much assistance to you in your search of your friends."
She nodded and allowed him to take her hand, turning her to the left and a wooded path.
He looked at her once as they went, "We are safer by the cover of the forest"








----------------------------------------------------------------







Alden heard the telltale sounds of fighting in the distance, and after assuring that the other members of the caravan were safely inside their homes, he turned to go after the noise.
Sheathing his sword at his side, Pendran hurriedly led a stocky black stallion to Alden. The creature was already properly saddled and bridled, leave it the boy to be one step ahead.

Mounting 'Angul', he nudged the horse into a gallop, its feathered feet tearing up the distance.
Alden's heart was pounding hard in his chest. Despite being a peace loving gypsy, Alden was a seasoned warrior. He did not fear death nor pain.
Yet all he could think about was Helaku, Senon and his beloved Akilah.

One hand firmly placed on his sword, the other with reins firmly in hand they rushed to meet whatever came. He would save his family, even if that meant diverting danger away from them. And upon himself.

He passed under an eve of old trees and up a small hill that lead into the plains. He had no sooner reached the grass when his horse spooked and nearly reared completely up.
His sword was instantly in hand and he ready to fend off any oncoming danger.

"Whoa Alden, its us." A familiar heavily accented voice came, Senon stepping quickly out to the path. Alden sighed with relief, but it was only half hearted.
"Helaku, Akilah?" he asked quickly.

"Here" Helaku said, and appeared also. And to Alden's utter surprise, he was followed by a tall blonde elf who was instantly familiar.
The elf made an expression that Alden knew was a hidden smile.

"Mae Govannen, Alden unin Dunadan" The leader of the Elf party said, nodding at the Gypsy.

"Suliad, Haldir o Lorien" Alden said, dismounting his horse.

Senon just looked confused between Elf and Alden.

Alden looked around and his eyes met Haldir's once more. "A o nin iell..."

"She escaped the Orc, I believe she has sought refuge in our wood. Their she will be safe. I came to seek you, and tell you of what transpired. But now that you are here, shall we go seek her together?" Haldir knew the answer to the question. And Alden nodded.

"Helaku, would you mind taking Angul back to camp. And assure that all is well there?" Helaku nodded, and respectfully bowed his head to Haldir, then quickly squeezing Senon's arm mounted and rode off back to camp.

All watched him go for a moment then Haldir turned back to Alden.



"That one has a quiet spirit." He nodded in Helaku's direction, "and his companion be his exact opposite".
A resounding laugh echoed as the Elves laughed along, even Alden.
"Very funny" Senon mummer, not very happy they were enjoying a laugh at his expense.

As they began to walk to back to the Golden-wood, Rumil slung a hand around Senon's shoulders. He smiled and laughed lightly. "Do not fret friend Senon, My dearest brother Haldir is just jealous because he is the boring one."

Again a resounding round of laughter from both elf and man, this time Haldir was not amused.


"Concentrate on finding the little one" Haldir ordered in a most stately way taking the lead. He was not humored at all.
But another echo of laughter carried above the old forest.

"Trust me Haldir. He no bell sen min" Alden said with a grin as they began to cross the fields at a sprint.









----------------------------------------------------------------









Once they reach the woods that were Lothlorien, Haldir lead the whole group directly along a path into the woods.


He knew that if they were to find her, best to see if she had been discovered already.
They all walked along silently, Alden following directly behind Haldir and Senon behind him. The younger mans eyes seemed to want to be everywhere all at once. The wood here was very beautiful and he could tell how they got the name The Golden Woods.

A sound almost too soft for Elven hearing caught Haldir's attention, and then Alden's. The former Ranger had very good hearing enough for a human, but it was his attunement with the actions of his companions that served him best.
It was a Rangers trait, from his younger days when he served as one.

And to their right, moving as if meshed with the forests itself came a tall Dark haired elf.
Out of instinct, and as if they had a silent signal, the Galadhrim archers turned their arrows toward him. But just as quickly as the motion had been, they dropped their defenses recognizing their kin.


Behind him tailing closely, the young gypsy's woman.

"Akilah?" Alden was quick to question, and the girls head shot up instantly. A smile appeared on her face as she rushed forward into her adopted fathers embrace.
He pulled her tight into a hug, relishing having her safe and back with him. "You gave us quite a scare tithen aras"


Akilah hugged back tightly, and then was swept up into Senon's arms.


"Don't ever do that again" he warned playfully and chuckled when she smacked him upon his arm.

Akilah turned her face from between Alden and Senon's embraces and met eyes with Tinnuldur.


She smiled, and he smiled back.









--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Translations:

"Mae Govannen, Alden unin Dunadan"= Welcome, Alden of the Dunadan

"Suliad, Haldir o Lorien" =Hello, Haldir of Lorien.

"A o nin iell..."= And of my daughter...

"He no bell, sen min"= She be strong, this one.

"tithen aras"=little deer, title...nickname given to Akilah by Alden because of her affinity for Deer.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Chapter 4 - Chapter 3: "A measure of time..."

It had been a long age since the Elves of Lothlorien had mortals among them. Though apprehensive at first, they were quick to see the good heart of these people.
The Gypsy's soon found themselves welcome to stay and bide their time in the protected glades of the Golden-woods.
The Lord Celeborn appeared upon their arrival and bringing kind words from the Lady Galadriel herself.

They needed not shelter, as they traveled with such. But accepted provisions as the Eldar would not have it any other way.

The lands were fair and had a timeless dreamlike air about them. And Alden was glad for the safe harbor for his family.
They were welcome to stay out the time until they could depart when they it set them back on schedule.

Those who had first said "Time flies when one is enjoying ones self", certainly never had the honor of entering Lorien.
For Akilah, it seemed the time slowed down and was like a dream. The Elves were enthralled by them, not having seen ones so young as Her, Flura, Bo and Pendran for so very long.

She walked along, following Tinnuldur closely. A pair of Elven ladies walking gracefully past smiled and mummer amongst themselves in a most amused way.

"What do they say Tinnuldur?" she asked, watching them go.

"They find you intriguing, my lady" He said, giving her a sidelong look and a smile. "It has been very long since a child has graced Lothlorien's borders" His lips quivered, holding back his amusement at her expression.
She did not like being called a child.
"I shall be twenty one in Autumn, I am not a child" She was half annoyed and half confused. Could they not see she was a woman?

"Yes, yet humans and the Elves age differently. So to us, you are a child" This time he could not wholly keep back his grin, though he somehow managed not to laugh.
"Your parents begat you in the Fall, did they?" he asked casually, walking slowly along with her through the wood.

"No" Her cheeks darkened into a blush at such a scandalous idea. How did she know when her parents 'begat' her, that was none of her concern.

"I was born in October" she stopped and gave him a 'look'.
"What does the day my parents, begat, me have anything to do with it"

This time Tinnuldur could not help himself. He laughed and smiled brightly. "The Eldar do not celebrate the day they were born...but the day they were begat." He laughed again at her confused expression and opted to explain further.
"You see my lady, Elven children are more rare than human children as it takes more effort of spirit and mind in the bearing and conceiving of them. And so we have less children per family compared to others such as humans and the Periannath. There may be thousands of years between the ages of an Elvish woman's children, and her and her mates body must be in a state of synchronization, if you will, before a child can be conceived" Tinnuldur hoped that he had not become to complex in his explanation.

"How long does an Elf woman carry a child" Tempest asked curiously.

Tinnuldur smiled broadly, she was smarter than he thought. Slipping his hand through her arm, he took the lead once again through the wood.
"One year, Elvish babe's are mostly born in spring..."

He continued to relay all he could about his kin to her, and soon she spoke of mortals to him. Both very curious about the others people, and about each other.







How many days had passed Akilah could not tell. It was a fine spring that had come upon the golden wood and warm nights spent sleeping in her caravan with the window open to allow the breeze in. And soon temped rainy nights and spring showers turned into warmer days.

These she spend with Tinnuldur.

Today he had taken her into the trees themselves, aiding her in the climbing. Though clumsy as was the way of the Humans, she did have some skill. Akilah was awed yet again by his natural Elvish skills, and the excursion was immensely enjoyed by both.

Now they sit in a small hallow of soft grass that was surrounded heavily by trees. They were deep in the heart of Lothlorien and all was right with their world.

Tinnuldur lean back against the smooth bark of a towering Mallorn tree. The sun streaming down in rays here and there among them. A stream in the distance filled in background noise, but even the birds were mostly quiet, enjoying the suns warmth.
Anar's light highlighted dust and pollen and other particles in the air, making it seem even more ethereal.
Yet Tinnuldur, son of Calden, was not watching any of this.
He was busy watching Akilah.

His eyes dropped heavily as if dozing, something she had become use to the past few weeks. The sleeping habits of the Eldar were just one of many things she had come to know as normal here.
She also began to learn Elvish words and the freedom of living under the canopy of the Lord and Lady.

She lie fully on her back partially hidden in the soft grass and flowers. Her head-shawls blue material framing her face. In her hands she twirled a small yellow flower and drifted in and out of sleep the whole morning.
Through half open eyes Tinnuldur could watch her, faking sleep.

Part of him knew it was not wise. But what did his heart care for the wise and the right.
He was in love.

In all his years, considered young and just reaching his prime of life, Tinnuldur felt for someone else. And too his luck, she was mortal...and a gypsy.
He sighed with the weight of it, and closed his eyes completely. Shutting out the sunlight for a moment.
It was not the way of Elvish sleep, but it was not uncommon for one of his kindred to shut their eyes to rest.
Usually only when they were deep in a disturbed sleep, or ill.

Akilah turned her head to ask Tinnuldur something and was taken aback to see him with his eyes closed. From what she had learned, it was not well for an Elf to keep them closed for so long.
She pushed herself up and moved over to him, looking closer. Her hand crossed to the other side of his face and she ran a tentative finger lightly across his cheek.
Stormy blue eyes slowly met her amber ones, like ocean meeting earth.

He could not help himself, perhaps he was weakened by the laziness of the day in conjunction with her beauty, but he reach up and held her hand to his face. His piercing Elven gaze holding hers in place.
Of his other hand, a finger reach up just under her chin and drew her forward.

Perhaps it was the air of spring and the magical atmosphere of Lothlorien herself that made it so he could not stop himself, or the warm weather that hazed her mind and caused her not to want to pull away.
Whatever it may be, weather or environment-or the beauty each saw clearly in the other.
Tinnuldur beckoned her to come, and she came.
Her lips meeting his, his head tilting slightly, a breath escaping both.


Chapter 5 - Chapter 4: "Tempest unexpected..."

-Mirkwood, Royal Palace...-






Tinnuldur watched as a dark blonde haired elf fill three goblets. The spirits of the Eldar were many but the archer preferred the less dry taste of the White wines. Two of the glass cups were filled with a dark crimson liquid, one with clear.

Mithisil picked his goblet up, tipping it towards his friend in thanks and swiveling it expertly, he sipped. His younger brother Thrandohir copied the motion instinctively. The two Sindarin princes preferring the stronger taste of red wines, something acquired from their father no doubt.

They sipped in silence, the liquid flowing down and warming their insides. Tinnuldur removed his cloak and draped it over a nearby chair, moving towards the open balcony. It was a quiet warm night in Mirkwood and his thoughts were still quite full and busy.

"Well, I shall bid goodnight to you Brother, Tinnuldur. It shall be an early morn and Id like to see to Avenway before our departure in the morning. Besides I've promised to see Malwe and his scouting party before their departure." He smiled as he always did and finished his drink, then disappeared in search of there younger brother.


"You are troubled" Mithisil asked almost instantly after he was sure his brother was far from hearing range.

Leave it to Mithisil to notice such a thing, Tinnuldur thought. He sighed and knew any attempt to skip round the truth would be futile with his closest friend.
He did need turn to look at the Sindarin elf to know he was watching him.
"I am undecided about what I should do" was all he said staring into the thick woods beyond the palace grounds.

"Ahh, the Gypsy" Mithisil said, a slight of disapproval in his voice.
Tinnuldur turned finally and looked at his friend.



"She has a name", he could not help but feel slightly indignant. He knew that the Mirkwood elves were wary of all but their own kind, even in a certain degree to the Lothlorien elves.
Mithisil though open of mind, was not so different.

"Yes, this I know. It is Akilah, and a lovely name it is. I mean no offense by my comment, Tinnuldur." Mithisil's sky blue eyes met his friends stormy ones.
"it is just..." he stood, placing down his goblet and staring at it. His one hand tracing the outside of the smooth glass, finally he looked back at Tinnuldur.
"You must know you walk into peril my friend." he stated, a note of worry in his voice.

"Please, not you also. I do not with to hear this argument. I have heard it from my mother and father and kin. I do not need to hear it from you as well." Tinnuldur waved him off, sighing warily.

"Obviously you have not heard it enough." Mithisil stepped closer, his hand moving away from the goblet and table all together. His strong sky-blue eyes took in his friend critically for a long moment, his brows furrowing as he came to a conclusion. "You love her" he asked, almost as in awe.

Tinnuldur slowly met his friends gaze, his eyes darkened to a color found in deep sea water. Mithisil's brows raised as he realized the answer.


"You do...you love her. You will ask her hand?" All this was incredible to Mithisil. Could his friend not see what danger he would bring upon himself loving a mortal.
Did he not learn from the tales of Beren and Luthien, and those of their sort.
"You will" he said, it was not a question.
Mithisil shook his head, his white-blonde hair spilling on his tunic with the motion. "You must know it is folly Tinnuldur"

"nin nauth lothron goro isto ned sen, nin ind innas u lasto!" Tinnuldur defended, slipping into Elvish. He did not wish to have this argument with Mithisil. His situation was complicated as it was.

The power of his outburst took Mithisil aback. Tinnuldur often took after his mothers quietness, though he was strong willed like his father.


Sometimes he forgot this was very much an elf with Noldorin blood of the olden days. His fire, though well hidden and tamed by his Sindar blood, was very well still alive.
Mithisil looked at his dearest of friends closely. He was tormented by his indecision.
The crown prince knew that only a great and strong love would torture his friend so.

"Sidh, mellyn" Mithisil soothed, standing before the Galadhrim archer.


"She must be quite a woman, if she has captured your love" he said with a soft smile.

Tinnuldur nodded, the troubled expression darkening his fair features. "She is".

"All I ask is you be wary. It would pain me much to see you hurt, for mortals lives are short...I just do not wish you to feel such pain." In that moment even Mithisil could not help but shudder and think how very much he sounded like his own Father.
The King was exceptionally protective of his sons.

"You not only look the part, but you now sound like your father" Tinnuldur said fighting a smile.

"Do not remind me. But I am serious, if you do nothing else. I would bid you to follow the Elvish traditions, and wait the appointed time before you two are wed. That will give you time to think" He offered becoming serious again.

"The gypsy's travels will take them away from Lothlorien for three years Mithisil." the brunette elf turned away again, moving to the fireplace mantle. He rested his hand upon the wood, running his hand along its corner.


"You said she was young, and that their tradition states a year of courtship and a year of betrothal before marriage. That be two years already. Just think of it as adding the year usually required by our traditions. Three years is not so long as it sounds. If your love for each other is thus as strong, she will return to you and both parties will be pleased" He finished with abated breath. He did not wish to see the terrible outcome he knew came with such unions.

"We shall see" Tinnuldur muttered, looking again outside in an attempt to catch the stars with his eyes. What he thought beyond that, Mithisil knew not.










----------------------------------------------------------------







-Lothlorien,Two nights later...-



Akilah looked upon herself in the Elf-crafted mirror upon the wall. The glass reflected her back as she completed another plait, fastening it with a small leather fascia. Wall mirrors were not common in Lothlorien, and Akilah had secretly thought this was because Elves were so beautiful. Why would beings who looked so lovely at all times need one?
She finished the last plait, musing.
It had taken her longer than usual to finish, partially because she did not want to finish, partially because of the decision she had yet to make.

Tinnuldur's reflection slid behind her own, his strong arms wrapped tightly about her. She grinned, as much enjoying the protective gesture. She had not heard him return, as was the usual with elves, as they were very light footed by nature. She leaned into his embrace, relishing his touch and the quite moment away from her thoughts.

Knowing how very much an independent sprit Akilah was, Tinnuldur thought himself lucky indeed to be considered worthy of her affections.

He could not help himself, still a young and boisterous Elven male, he mischievous tugged her closer and placed a kiss just behind her ear.
"I have missed you" he mummer into her hair, the strong scent of Vanilla he always associated with her, reached his senses.

"I have missed you more" she watch him through the mirror, and was rewarded by the feel of him smiling into her neck.
He pulled away after a moment, the smile sliding from his face.

Neither knew what to say, as both had been contemplating the same thing.
Their ultimate future together.

"You will go" he asked without pleasantries. He need not hide nor skim the issue with Akilah, she knew him far to well for that.

"I do not know" she said honestly, also avoiding side stepping the issue.
It was then that she noticed he hold one hand behind his back.

"What's that" she asked, curiosity taking over.
A glint of something crossed his eyes, but she missed it before she could identify its meaning. "This? This is for you." He said taking a step closer, revealing an intricately carved wooden box. Flat and made of the light woods that seemed to dominate the Lothlorien landscape, it was now between them only so it was what separated the distance.

"For me?" she asked confused, now wondering why he would give her a box. Though it was very beautiful, as all Elvish things were.

He nodded and slowly opened it, and Akilah's breath caught in her throat. Lying inside was the most beautiful piece of jewelry she had ever seen in her whole life.
Wrought of Mithril, it was a sort of Elvish pattern. Three triangular shapes, one large in the center and two smaller hanging from the sides, were intricately weaved and attached. At the center of each triangular star were three oval green stones.
It was stunning.

She shook her head, her mouth moving to speak but she could not find the words.
"It is an heirloom of my family. I wish you to have it" She shook her head again and looked up at him helplessly.

"I am not worthy of such a gift Tinnuldur" she whispered eyeing the necklace again and then him stunned. "It is the most beautiful necklace I've ever seen. How can I accept a precious heirloom of this sort, will you not miss it"
She had never been gifted something of the sort and was widely taken aback.

"I will miss you more" he said, the slight humorous glint on his face not completely faded.
She took the gist of what he had just said and looked at him again.
"You want me to go?" the beautiful creation forgotten for a moment of dread.

"No, of course not. But both you and I know well...you are not ready to leave behind your family" She said nothing, because he was absolutely right.


"I propose that we follow our peoples traditions." He swallowed hard and pushed his feeling of sadness down, continuing. "The two years your people expect you to wait before you wed, and the one my peoples traditions state. That is three years. In three years time you will return to Lothlorien, and to me."
He stepped forward, closing the box and holding it one hand he slid the free hand, cupping her face.

"You will return to me, and I will be waiting" The look he bestowed upon her sent a shiver up her spine. Those storm blue eyes were those which had looked upon whole parties of Uruk-hai before they were utterly destroyed, now looked upon her with the same determination.

He then slid his hand down to hers and taking the smaller, slid it over the top of the wooden box.
"To thee I plight my Troth Akilah Aldenion, take this gift as a symbol of my love for you. As a promise that I should never love another as I love you."

She didn't speak her plight to him. She did not need to.
The tears that fell from her eyes heavily on her cheeks was enough he would ever need, and he wiped one away, kissing her lips.
Kissing her as if it would be the last time he did so.

Her hands reach up clumsily, unclasping the silver Elven broach that kept his cape firmly in place. The Silvery grey material pooled upon the floor around his feet.

Tinnuldur gave no other thought to the discarded cape, it meant nothing. All that mattered at the moment was his arms encircling her waist, and the feel of her pounding heart through her tunic.
He pulled away for but a moment, his stormy blue eyes catching her amber ones.

He had to know, for his sake as well as hers.

In a slight daze of emotion coursing through her all at once she gazed back, her breathing slightly faster than it had been before.
If one did not look close, one could not see that he was breathing at all.
His gaze unmoving, piercing into her very mind.

"I am sure..." She said and was instantly swept back into his arms. His mouth meeting hers again with passion suitable only to his Noldorin blood. Tinnuldur hooked one arm firmly round Akilah's waist...tugging her backwards and into his inner chamber.

Perhaps they fought the dawn, but at the moment they had tonight.










----------------------------------------------------------------











Tinnuldur, for one of the few times in his life, felt as if he would fall apart.

The farewell had been bitter sweet for all involved.


Even the Lady Galadriel and her Lord Celeborn were present to say their Goodbye.
All were silent when she stepped forward, eyeing the party of humans before her.

"It has been far to long since the second born graced Lothlorien with their presence. Though their may be strife long set between our two kindred's, you have proven yourselves worthy in our eyes." she smiled and glanced at each one with her eyes that seemed to be older and fairer than the sun and moon themselves.
If only they had known.

"Your journey is long and arduous" she stated, her gaze falling directly on Alden. It was as if she could bore into his soul, and for some reason a deep feeling of danger and premonition rose in his chest.

"With many dangers..." this time her gaze fell upon Akilah. Tinnuldur could not help but be the one to feel apprehensive. The lady never said anything without meaning.

"Yet men are more resilient than perhaps they are credited." Her eyes turned to the red headed Pendran.

"Go in peace, and may the Valar watch over you" she said, almost ominous in her message. She then smiled, lightening all that saw it.

The Caravans were off, several of the Gypsy's waving at their new friends. Thinking of the sad departure, but resolute to return in three years to the wise and fair creatures that though were beyond the measure of men...still loved them and understood.

As they crossed the darkened grassy and rocky plains that stood between Lothlorien and Fangorn, Akilah turned and looked back. Half of the party had stayed behind to guard their going while Haldir's company ride ahead.

She could make out Tinnuldur even in the darkness, lit only by the Caravans lamps and the light of the moon and stars.

He stood unmoving at the base of the wood, his long bow tucked under his arm. The night wind caught up his dark hair and it took all her might not to leap from the Caravan and run to meet him.
She watch until she could no longer see him, then sat back.
The remnants of last night in her mind.

The memory of the way his body felt against hers, his smell and how he would hold her. The look in those storm sea-blue eyes.
She wiped away one tear but did not bother with the others, and suddenly she felt very very sick to her stomach.









----------------------------------------------------------------








-Nine Months Later, The Plains of Rohan-




Akilah sat back in her sleeping cot, being rocked gently to the caravan as it crossed Rohan. They would soon enter the last few villages to make trade.
Business had been good, and she knew that it was partially because what they had learned from the Elves.

A Wave of incredible sadness swept over her and she placed her hand upon her stomach. Her fingers gliding across the cloth of her shirt, underneath she could feel the tight skin of her swollen abdomen.
It was quite hard to feel anything but the weight of sadness as you contemplate the fact that the sire of your child would know not of them until they were nearly three years of age.

Soon after they departed the eves of Fangorn did she become painfully aware that she was with child. She had not expected such a thing, but then again who would.

What would Tinnuldur say when he was presented with the news that he was a father. And a terrified thought came to mind once more.
Perhaps he would not want a child so soon, he would not know it. What If his love changed for her, what if he would not care for her any longer.
She drew a deep breath to calm her racing heart.

Akilah felt all emotions now with an intensity that was usually left to the magical beings of the world: Fear, insecurity, indecision, awe, love and excitement And all on a new heightened Level.
She wondered often if it was because of the fact that the babe within her had Elven blood. Perhaps she was feeling the effects of carrying such a rare and precious gift.

Though she was a rational mind, even she was susceptible to un-rational thoughts. Especially on the long lonely nights such as this. Winter had dwindled in early spring and with that many storms and down pours. It had also brought forward green grasses and a time of plenty, and right behind that, a lurking evil.

The swaying motion of the horses pulling the moving homes began to lull her to sleep.
During the first stages, the motion of the moving Caravans only had served in making her sick.

She was heavily pregnant now, nine months and four days. Remembering what Tinnuldur had said about Elvish women being with child for a whole year came to mind.
She wondered how it was with human women carrying Elvish children.
The thought of him made her take another shuddering breath, blinking back tears.

She was a week pass what both Ninaskah and Kwan-yin had deemed her berthing day.
Her baby slept within her womb with no sign of wishing to show itself. And despite all the encouragement that the child would come when it was ready, she wished it to be over now.
A slow darkness had crept over her mind, fueled by uncertainty and fear. She was not even sure she wanted this.

In the distance the sound of thunder rumbled across the sky. It was well into February. Their trip took so long because of the many stops they made to trade and barter.

She began to fade into sleep, the quiet thunder lolling her into dreams and the promise of peace. The sounds of an oncoming storm going unheeded by her.
But not by the infant who slept in her womb.








----------------------------------------------------------------










It was not unusual for a storm to gather strongly in the plains of Rohan. Alden had been through many, but as they made camp the following eve the situation had worsened.

Beside the harsh wind and the pelting rain, trees being bent to the will of this storm, Akilah had gone into labor.

He lit another lamp and placed it down in the sleeping area of his daughters caravan. Ninaskah and Kwan were boding over her, Ninaskah sitting in a chair beside the bed petting the girls hand in her own.

Akilah had been in labor most of the evening and now it was in the wee hours of the morning, it seemed that her pains had come quicker and closer together, with a fury like the storm outside.

So far Akilah had been very brave and had taken the pain like the warrior she was. But as they became more intense, she began to tire, her body covered in sweat from her effort and her body trembling.

Another contraction seized her body and Alden found himself being pushed into the sitting area by Kwan, catching one last glimpse of Akilah as she sat up painfully...Ninaskah encouraging her on.





Alden sat with a huff, tapping his fingers on the wooden table. A fire was going in the small hearth, warming the whole caravan from the rain brought on chill.

A strong feeling of Deja vu crossed over Alden. This was exactly the same weather that Akilah was born in. How curious that fate should play this card, and he pondered if the child being born in the storm had anything to do with making her so fiery.

//Valar help us if we have another girl child like Akilah...I don't know if I could handle it// he thought, chuckling despite himself.

He was like a nervous father waiting for the birth of his own child, the strong urge to pace was buried deep down. Instead he ran his hand through his graying dirty-blonde hair, for the hundredth time.

The storm overhead worried him more as it pounded the sides of the caravans. Pelting rain became louder and he looked about, wondering if the horses were ok tethered to the sides of the caravans. The Randirroch were standing against the caravans for protection, hardy as they were, the storm was unusually dangerous tonight.

A crack of thunder again shook the air, and he could almost feel the electricity on his skin.
But nothing made him feel energy more than the piercing cry of an infant across the loud winds.

He stood, but held himself back from returning to the sleeping area. His hands clenched on the back of the chair, knuckles going white.

Kwan appeared and he smiled tiredly, nodding. "A girl, come and see"

He did what he was told, his mind still reeling. He was a grandfather, of sorts. He rush to Akilah's side, wiping his hand across her sweaty brow. She in turn looked up at him exhausted, and he began to worry when as she did not respond.
He wanted to pass it off as the effort of berthing a child, but her eyes were so very sad.

She was looking beyond him, at the bundle in Ninaskah's arms, and slowly turned her head away.
The child squirmed a little, her tiny features making a face that reminded him of Akilah in the strongest way.

He ran the back of his finger along her tiny new cheek, smiling at the softness. Babies were always the most wondrous thing to Alden, he suddenly knew why the elves were so prone to enjoying the humans company. The mortals had been like brand new babies to explore.

The babe gripped his finger in her own, her almond skin stark contrast to his fair colored hand. Her grip was very very strong and he was not at all surprised, she was of Elf blood, her teeny slightly pointed ears reminding him.

"She is beautiful tithen aras" He cradled the child closer and sat where Ninaskah had been. The two older Gypsy members stepping back and letting Alden have moments with his daughter. Alden rubbed the infants incredibly small hand with his fingers, his own still stuck in her grip. She opened cloudy blue eyes, and he wondered if they might stay that way.

Akilah's had been like that, but they changed to a beautiful amber brown. If he was not incorrect, most babies were born with eyes similar in that color. He secretly hoped that they would remain such a lovely hue.

He looked hopefully back at his daughter, hoping that her sadness had not become a dark depression that could take the life of new mothers. Hoping some how to encourage her to look upon her child.
Instead her eyes were already glued to her new child in his arms.

"She is...she has her fathers eyes" A sadness crossed her face again, but despite that she smiled proudly at what she had created.






----------------------------------------------------------------
----------------------------------------------------------------


Translations:

"nin nauth lothron goro isto ned sen, nin ind innas u lasto!"= my thought may have knowledge of this, my heart will not listen!

Randirroch= Wanderer/Pilgrim-horse. The steeds of the Gypsy's, bred by them. They were crosses between Haradrim desert horses and the horses of the people of Rohan. Bred to pull the large moving caravans of the Gypsy's, they were very strong. They also were bred for disposition, gait (which was one unique to them, a pacing/dancing movement that was very smooth), and were known for their bright and flashy colors.

"tithen aras" = Little Deer, the Nickname given to Akilah by Alden because of her love for Deer.


----------------------------------------------------------------
----------------------------------------------------------------


Chapter 6 - Chapter 6: "Coming of Girithion..."

-"This is my December. This is my time of the year.
This is my December. This is all so clear..."-
 




It would be far more than a three nights ride to anyone on any other type of steed. But to the Two Mirkwood Elves and one of the Galadhrim, there horses were of the finest Elven lines and it would be a day and a half before they reach there destination.
They had the advantage, they knew the secret passage way through the mountains in which the Gypsy's took every three years.

At a steady gallop to save there horses if need be, Tinnuldur took the lead of the small group. His long black hair was pulled back clear away from his face and kept with three Elven braids. He wore a simple tunic of silvery grey, and a cloak that matched. On his back was a quiver filled with green ended arrows, and a bow made of light color wood.
His outfit and manner was that of the Galadhrim, the people of Lothlorien. The kindred of his mother.
He had been born there, raised there. To him, they were his people.

Though his dark hair and Azure blue eyes made him stand out. Lothlorien's majority of Elves were blonde, there eyes light blue like the skies. And the people of Mirkwood shared these traits.

Tinnuldur had received his hair and eyes from his father. Calden, of the Noldor. A soft-spoken Elf-man and talented archer who had taught his son everything he knew. He had taken up residence in Lorien for the love of Tinnuldur's mother, Altawen.

Beside Tinnuldur on grey horses rode the two eldest princes of Mirkwood.
Mithisil and Thrandohir.

Proud and loyal, Mithisil was the crown prince of the former Greenwood the Great. His royal air was that which benefited him as the future King of that land.
He had long white-blonde hair that was kept back in a single warriors braid, two more resting on his shoulders.
He wore deep greens and a velvety dark birch grey cloak and hood.
At his side was his Elven sword Aegolas, ready for use at any moment.

Beside him, with his head tilted up towards the soaring Elven Hawk Avenway, tracking the birds flight pattern, was the second Prince of the Mirkwood.
His usual smile faded from his face. The concentration only that which an elf could posses taking its place.

Both princes were devoted to their friend Tinnuldur.
His sadness had been great since the departure of the Gypsy, and after a while it had been Mithisil, surprisingly, to convince the young elf to go after her.

They would hold true to there friendship, even if there father liked it not.

An internal struggle had consumed Mithisil's mind shortly before there departure. He was the Crown prince and thus, he had many duties within Mirkwood.
But he also had one to his friends, especially when they were in need, and it had been he who had so readily brought up Elven traditions and the logic for letting Akilah leave.

He realized his error, and the dispute in his mind was settled. He would accompany Tinnuldur to find his lover, and they would bring her back.
His father did not approve of the Mortals, saying that she had warped Tinnuldur's mind, and that to love one was to invite tragedy.

Mithisil simply reasoned his father did not understand, it was as if he had forgotten the great love he shared with there departed mother. As if he had simply forgotten the the feeling as if he would jump off the end of Arda simply to glance upon the one he loved.

Mithisil had never been graced with the gift of love, he was young enough yet and his duties took up most of his attention. He knew his father was pained to see that none of his sons were wed after there 50th birthdays, he wished grandchildren as any father would.
It wasn't that Mithisil was not ready, he was just a disciplined man-elf who's duties to station and friends came first.

He would wed one day if the Valar willed it, he even looked forward to it.
But now more than anything he wished to right what he had helped set wrong.

//Perhaps then you would allow yourself to search for a Mate Mithisil.// he reasoned with himself, and after he had decided he would take this into serious thought later, he pushed it back into his mind.
Though he knew it not yet, he would not think get that chance for a long while.


 

----------------------------------------------------------------
 


-"This is my December. This is my snow covered home.
This is my December. This is me alone..."-


 
 

The Trail would have slowed them down, even for the eyes and skills of an Elf. The Valar though had graced them with the company of a Falconry Master, and Thrandohir's companion was proving his worth.
He slowed his mare's speed to read the signs right.
"He slows and Circles, it seems we have come close" Thrandohir commented softly, his head still tilted up to the skies as he often did when being guided by his finely trained bird of prey.

All three were now reigning there mounts to a stop. The horses breathing a bit harder but not labored. They were Elven steeds, among the first lines that had graced Arda. Second perhaps only to the very best steeds of the Rohhirim.
In the Air, high clouds had begun to form and to the ears of the Elves the air was softer. But something was not right.

"The air calms and the wind chills, It will snow soon." Mithisil stated aloud, he knew that all in company were quite aware of this. It was more for the benefit of hearing something other than the silence.
"All is wrong, Arda should be peaceful but the trees tremble from there roots" Mithisil's grey eyes darted to and fro, the lack of noise making him nervous.

"Do you smell that?" Again he made another discovery.

"Avenway is wary" Thrandohir revealed with eyes wide. He had hardly ever seen the animal so nervous and aspartic in its flight pattern.

"Fire" Was the only word Tinnuldur uttered.
To him the fire was not that of burning foliage, but tainted with something else.
His heart skipped a beat, and at an invisible cue his Mount cantered and galloped in the direction the smoke was coming from.

The sudden move had taken the two princes off guard. Tinnuldur was not a person known to make rash decisions, they knew it must be of most seriousness. Also asking for speed they followed there companion.




----------------------------------------------------------------
 


-"Just wish that I didn't feel there was something I missed.
Take back all the things I said to make you feel like that.
Just wish I didn't feel there was something I missed.
Take back all things I said to you..."-


 



Tinnuldur pushed his horse faster and faster, his senses screamed in anticipation of what he would find just over the hill.
His rapidly beating heart felt as if it had frozen with the coming frost, and sunk deep into his stomach.

The Caravans of the Gypsy's stood below him, a distance away from the hill top he rode on. The once beautiful moving works of unique woodcraft now ablaze in the distance.
He leaned back as his horse walked and slid down the steep hill. Splashing into the waters of the ice cool brook that lie before the campground. His mount moved slowly, it was as if even his horse felt the apprehension.

Ears pricked forward and nostrils flaring at the fire, it moved ever toward the gypsy's mobile encampment.
Or that which was left.

He reached the opening of the semicircle, and his horse stopped. Not on the account of its rider, but out of some inane sense and knowing far beyond the steeds of mortal men.

Middle-earth was a harsh place. Since the Marring of Arda by Melkor in all his malice and hate of the other Valar.
Built, destroyed and rebuilt.
The children of Eru had a harsh tough life, some more than others.
And through History, even to this day, we read and study the revelations of our true past.
The story of the Valar, and the music they helped create. The tales of the first born, Elves. Wise, beautiful beyond the measure of mankind and Immortal.
The legends of the Dwarves, the children of Aule, hardy and strong. The beloved half-lings, Hobbits in there own name. Hungry for life and fun-loving, and surprising at every turn.
And the legends of Men and there ongoing odyssey.

But some Tales are never told, and sometimes it is best as such.
For what lie before Tinnuldur was a picture of such carnage that it was said the Valar were saddened, and many of the Maia moved to tears.

Some would call it the weakness of man, others the fault of the mighty Valar whom seemed to forsake the youngest children of Iluvitar.
A sadness wrought by the hand of a man who was less than human.

Slowly sliding from his horse, Tinnuldur's feet touched the ground just as the first snowfall of the year made its ascent from the heavens.
His footsteps were silent as he walked past the caravans, a few still burning to ash.
His legs taking him where his mind and heart would not.
When they would no longer hold him, they buckled before the body of the one he sought.

Her face was turned away from him, and he wanted nothing more than to see hers. His hands trembled as they made the motion and turned her on her back ever so gently.
And some sick strange relief had come across him, he could not explain it at the moment. Her eyes were closed, he had been pardoned from having to see the nothingness of death in her eyes.

Eyes that were always so full of the purest essence of life. Her face was peaceful, only as if she had been sleeping.
Tinnuldur did not remember pulling her completely into his arms, or how long he had been there after that.
He did not acknowledge the calls of his friends as they came into the encampment.

Thrandohir turned his head quickly away from what he saw, and for many moments he could not bring himself to turn it back.
Briefly Mithisil could not help but think of the bit of innocence his slightly younger and joyful brother had lost this night.

Neither brother knew what to do for a very long time. They just took it upon there mounts in silence, then decided themselves to do the Gypsy's honor.
Picking each one up best they could, they placed them carefully in the caravans which had not completely burned or the two which had not caught fire.
With a piece of wood used as a makeshift torch, Thrandohir set them ablaze.
He knew it was the gypsy's way.

Making a count he realized three were missing, save for poor Akilah which Tinnuldur held in his arms. Tinnuldur meanwhile had ceased to move.
Mithisil would not dare attempt to make him.

Moving around and unhitching the two steeds that lived. The animals did not flee, instead making there way over to the waiting Elven horses. It was almost as if the Eldarin steeds were a source of comfort for the Gypsy's horses.

A fleeting movement caught Mithisl's eye as he located the young boy and the elderly fortune teller.
It was a gruesome sight.
At least the others had died fighting as warriors or had been dealt clean blows.

His hands now shook as he reached unsteady to retrieve her head.
His whole body seemed to rebel, but schooling himself, he knew this had to be done.
To do honor to the elderly gypsy who had been so very kind to him.
Wrapping it in a cloth he had pulled off of her being, he delivered her from the ground and into the second to last caravan. Then turning back for the boy.

It was lightning fast as he thought he saw some sort of movement.
He attempted to pass it off as the wind, moving the cloth of the boys garb. His heart jumped.
There it was again. It was the boy, he lived!

Kneeling down to check his vitals Mithisil was careful not to jar the boys body.
He suffered from a deep stab wound and from exposure to the cold.
But he would live if they could tend to him fully in the next two nights.

Lifting the human boy in his arms he called for his brother, coming back as quickly as he dared.
Thrandohir turned his head to see if he was needed and was truly surprised. The young horse-caretaker was indeed alive.

Brining his brothers horse around for him, he helped him mount and get the young man into a comfortable and secure position. Though still a youngster, he was growing at the incredible rate that human children seemed to. Tall and lanky, but not at all heavy.

Thrandohir turned himself to look at Tinnuldur. He had never seen his friend so very lost. His heart ached at the sight, the young warrior and archer in such pain.
He took a few silent steps and stood beside the brunette Elf.

"Nin gwathor, i hen innas baur edhellen nestad an cuinar."
He spoke softly in his tongue, hoping this might bring Tinnuldur back to them. It had, but as he turned his eyes up to his friend a cold shiver ran up Thrandohir's spine.

The look in his eyes was something the elf could not identify.
To his relief, Tinnuldur nodded and tilted Akilah easily into his arms. He walked slowly to what had been her caravan, surprisingly it remained untouched by the fire. The thin layer of snow that had fallen remained unmoved by Elven footfalls. To Thrandohir's view he climbed inside for a while.
Secretly the prince knew it was to say a last goodbye.

He allowed him his privacy and turned to collect the other horses. He thought it wise to take the two remaining steeds with them, or else they might die in the cold of winter.
He tied leads to each of them, connecting the small of the two to the larger. Then he made sure there was enough slack for him to lead them.
He sat a wait, never had the pull of time seemed to slow and too fast to him.



----------------------------------------------------------------
 
 

-"And I'd give it all away, just to have somewhere to go to.
Give it all away, to have someone to come home to...."-
 



 


Tinnuldur knew where the sleeping area was. He knew that the names and purpose of the hanging herbs in the cooking area, he even could recall the meaning of the colorful symbols bordered along the walls.
He had been here enough before to know all this.

This was Akilah's home. And as she had once told him, it was his home too.
He placed her down on the sleeping area, and watched her. It was as if she were simply sleeping.
Like those nights he woke beside her and watched her face for countless hours. Remembering every detail.
There time together had been far to short, fate it seems had indeed had the last laugh.

He ran his fingers through one of her braids, moving beside her face. It was an absent motion, and brought him little comfort.
His heart wrenched in his chest and the young Elf's hand shook as it gripped the blanket below her. Tears stung his eyes and his cheeks burned with the struggle to keep them back.

"I should have never let you go." the words were heavy with emotion as he sat beside her still body.
"I should have begged for you to stay. Should have told you that I wished you to stay." his voice quivered and he unconsciously slipped into the greytounge.
"Sen na nin girithron, im innas no erui. Gerin eglan le nin seron, a meleth innas awartha-nin an-uir." he could say no more.

There was so much to tell and his body began to shake with sobs as he realized he would never get to say them.
Lowering himself over her body his tears fell on her cold cheek.

"Aranna nin..."

Somehow he managed to sit up, and to wipe away the moisture from his face.
He covered her with a sheet and by will he didn't know he possessed, he began to make his way out.
After a moments contemplation he found the box he had given her, inside a stunning Elven necklace. Made in Rivendell and set with green cabochons, he had given it to her to symbolize his love. It had reminded him of her. It had been intended for her to wear it when they wed. She had loved it so.
Now she would never wear it.

Something else caught his eye.

A toy, or what he thought might be a toy. A child's toy. Simple, and made of cloth it was a doll. It's clothing mimic the gypsy's but to smaller scale. It was miniscule in his hands, fit for the smallest of children and for some reason he slipped it into the inside of his tunic. The soft doll fit easily.
He wished he could save each and every of her belongings.
But the doll, and her necklace would have to be enough.
 
 


----------------------------------------------------------------
 


-"This is my December. These are my snow covered treees.
This is me pretending, this is all I need..."-


With an aching so deep it almost made him weep again, he step out of the caravan. Thrandohir and Mithisil watch him with concerned eyes, it was almost more than he could bare.

He passed them and took up a piece of wood, dipped it into the dying fire and it easily caught. He walked over and stood there for another moment. The fire casting shadows across his face, then he tipped the top of it on the outcropping of her caravans roof.
It caught easily and spread, re-lighting the ones that had half burned.

Tinnuldur took a step back and watch as all that he had left of Akilah was taken by the heat of the fire. He dropped the piece of wood into a small back of snow that had collected and it hissed and went out.

Quietly he made his way back to his horse and mounted in one motion.
All three watched for a while, then one by one turned there horses and began there ascent up the same hill. It was now being covered in a flurry of snowfall.

Both Thrandohir and Mithisil reached the top of the hill and turned around. Tinnuldur still sat, in the shadow of the burning caravan. The others had mostly burned out and were now a ghost of there former self.

More than anything at that moment he wished to find who had done this.
He knew in his heart this was no work of Orc's, but of man.
Weather they be Thieves or what have you, he wished to find them.

The fire of his Noldorin blood burned with the fury fit for Feanor. If he knew who it had been, he would have caused them the pain that each of these innocents had suffered this night.
But the thought of Pendran filled his mind, he would save the boy. He would save one if he could.
With one last silent goodbye said in his mind, turned his horse and followed his companions.
There were no words in any tongue that were enough.

He knew not the significance of the tiny doll he had cradled inside his jerkin. He only knew the pain in his heart and the emptiness left there by a mortal girl. A child of the gypsy's who would come to own it, and to fill it with love he never knew possible in all his long Elven years.

He thought he had painfully left all that he ever would love behind him.
He was wrong.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Translations:

Aegolas=fell-leaf

"Nin gwathor, i hen innas baur edhellen nestad an cuinar."=My sworn brother, the child will need Elvish healing to live.

"Sen na nin girithron, im innas no erui. Gerin eglan le nin seron, a meleth innas awartha-nin an-uir."=This be my December, I will be alone. I have forsaken thee my lover, and love will forsake me forever.

"Aranna nin" =Forgive me

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


To Be Continued...
------------------------------------------------------------------

Printed from Open Scrolls Archive (https://www.openscrolls.net) on Sat Nov 14, 2026 8:16 pm