Story Downloaded from Open Scrolls Archive (https://www.openscrolls.net)
Title: Born Again (#1945)
Author: Fyalee
Chapters: 3
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Archive: Tolkien
Category: Alternate Universe (AU)
Description: A widow and her two children find themselves in Middle-earth. Will she allow a certain Marchwarden to heal her bruised spirit? Or will their pride stand in the way of their happiness? There is only one way to find out...
A/N: I could not let this idea go to waste. It may be over-used but I think there is something unique to this story, something touching and poignant, which has affected me deeply. I hope you enjoy this as much as I have writing it.
Published: 02 Jun 2005
Updated: 14 Jun 2005
Warnings: Adult themes, angst
Type: Romance
Characters: Haldir; OFC
Chapter 1 - A Mother's Heart
Author's Note: I have two other stories in the wings, but I could not let this idea go to waste. It may be over-used by I think there is something unique to this story, something touching and poignant, which has affected me deeply. I hope you enjoy this as much as I have writing it.
Summary: A widow and her two children find themselves in Middle-earth. Will she allow a certain Marchwarden heal her bruised spirit? Or will their pride stand in the way of their happiness? There is only one way to find out...
Warning: Rated accordingly for adult themes.
Disclaimer: I claim no rights to The Lord of the Rings, which belongs to J.R.R Tolkien.
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Born Again
Chapter One:
A Mother's Heart.
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The day was warm and bright, the sunlight stretching out across the trees of the quiet park that was tucked away in the city of San Francisco. She sighed softly as the tender breeze of the late summer day ruffled the stray strands of her dark brown hair. Childish laughter filled her ears, causing her to look up at the sight of her children chattering and playing excitedly between themselves.
Had it only been a year?
A year since her husband had passed away, his life snuffed out like the fragile flame of a candle. Had it really been only one year since she felt his arms around her waist, as he made sweet, passionate love to her in their family home? It had... It had only been a year since her life had been turned upside down, her world shattered and left in brittle pieces beneath her feet.
Gods, she missed him.
She missed his vexing humour and his charming grin—she missed the feel of his body against hers, the unique scent of aftershave and fresh lake water that clung to him like second skin. He was her everything; he was her world. And he had been taken from her. Brutally. Undeniably. And now she was alone... So very alone. She was now the sole provider and protector of their young family. There had many many nights over the past year that she found herself in her children's rooms, soothing away their constant nightmares that she too would be taken from them as their father had been. It broke her heart to see them pain. It tore her soul apart to know that her five-year old daughter would never have her father beside her as she grew into a beautiful woman; that her eleven-year old son would never see the pride within his father's eyes as he became a man worthy of their family name.
How cruel fate was, to have her husband love them so unconditionally, only to be taken away in a mere second of someone else's stupidity. A hit and run accident. How cruel... And yet, she could blame no-one. Many times she wondered what would have happened if she had done things differently, if she had told him to stay in bed; she would have given him the promise of a day filled ardour and amour, if only he wouldn't go into work. But he did. And that morning had been their last cherished moment—a moment that she would never forget.
Her forest green eyes brimmed with unshed tears, stinging and burning as she tried to keep them from falling onto the smooth expanse of her alabaster skin.
No, she could not—would not cry. Would her tears bring him back? What purpose would they serve other than to ease the dull ache in her broken heart. She wanted to scream. She wanted to tear at the loose tendrils of her mousy brown hair and scream her grief to the world. But she would remain strong and she would smile for her children because now, they were the foundation to her strength. They were the one light in eternal darkness that she had been caged within.
She shifted against the tree that held her upright, watching the seeds of her loins enjoy the warm summer day. They needed her. How could she allow herself to wallow in self-pity when such gorgeous little creatures held out their hands to her? She would guide and them and lead them into life and be the best mother she could be. For now, they were her heart; they kept it's steady beat and pulse going on... And on, and on.
"Amelia..."
Her head snapped up at the sound of her whispered name. From the corner of her eye, she spied a subtle movement of the bushes that led into the heavily wooded area of the park. Between the dark tree stumps an orb of light flickered delightfully, startling her at the sight of the strange phenomena. She looked around to see if anyone else had noticed the light. They hadn't.
Standing slowly, as if a trance had descended upon her, Amelia took a hesitant step towards the yellowing orb that was now directly in front of her face. It was the size of a dime; how it got there was puzzling. But it looked so welcoming, so comforting that she wanted to reach out and touch it. The orb danced back, leading her slowly forward towards the woodland area of the park.
"Dylan," she called out to her son absently, "Look after Dana for me, I'll be back in a little bit..." She didn't hear her son's reply but knew that he would heed her words.
Stepping cautiously, she passed the border of trees and entered the heavily branched woods. It was as if the sun was fighting to break through the canopy of luscious green leaves above her head. As she went deeper into the woods, she barely noted the changing colour of the leaves as they faded from jade green to a pale, golden amber colour. All that she could focus on was the tiny yellow orb in front of her.
After what seemed like hours of walking, but was probably only a few minutes, she entered the clearing in the woods and halted in her tracks at the sight before her. Her husband! Her husband was standing before her, smiling softly as he regarded her curved form with appreciation and mischief. She cried out in pain, stretching her arm out to him. A year! A whole year since she had seen the boyish curve of his lips, grinning at her as though he knew of a secret that would change her life...
Her heart lurched as she stumbled forward to grasp the vision. She choked back the barrage of tears as his face faded slightly as she neared. The broken woman sprinted forth to embrace her lost love, only to find herself grasping at thin air.
"No!" She whispered as she sank to her knees, staring miserably at the earthy soil through the river of tears that could not be held back. "Come back... Kevin!" Her broken voice resounded loudly through the trees.
Holding her head in her hands, Amelia sobbed at the madness of her actions. She sobbed and grieved for the past that she would never be able to capture...
A shadow fell over her.
The soft rustle of leaves forced her to look at her knees, her eyes moving along before they came to rest upon two feet, clad in strangely formed leather boots. Her gaze trailed upwards, along the legs clad in form-fitting leggings, to the broad chest covered within the expanse of grey cloth.
Their eyes locked.
So blue, so familiar... Just like her husband's. All semblance of reason flew from her mind as focused on the endless blue eyes that looked down at her. Amelia smiled. It was him! It had to be him. Rising from her knees, she took the clouded face within her hands and allowed her tears to flow freely.
"Kevin! Is it really you? Oh god, Kevin," she flung her arms around his neck and pulled him close, not noticing that he didn't return her embrace. Her fingers trailed along his cheeks as she brought his head down to kiss his lips, her tears intermingling with the taste of his mouth. She drew back and kissed his eyelids, placing feathered kisses upon his face without hesitation.
"You've come back," she cried, "Please... Please don't leave me again; Kevin, my heart was breaking without you. Every morning that I woke without you by my side, a part of me felt like it was dying... Please, god, please don't leave me!" She closed her eyes and clung to the strong body, molding her soft curves against him, whispering and muttering endearments that would have softened the most coldest of hearts.
"Mom!"
Her eyes snapped open at the sound of her son's voice. She smiled and looked up at her husband.
The face staring back at her was not her Kevin's. It was... Beautiful, beyond words and expression but—it was not her husband's face.
With a strangled cry, Amelia pulled herself away, as if she had been burned by her actions. "You're not him," she choked in desperation, "You're not him!"
Her son came to stand at her side, glaring at the strange man.
It was then that she realised they were surrounded by a number of abnormally beautiful men, all wearing the same type of odd clothing that reminded her of something from an ancient time in the past. Fear crept into the forefront of her mind as the man she had hung on to, stared at them impassively. Only now did she notice the bow and arrow in his hands, nocked and pointed to the ground.
"Where's your sister?" She gasped suddenly.
Her son frowned, pointing back to one of the men that was holding her youngest child to his chest, allowing her to pull at the locks of his silver hair with interest. He too was beautiful!
All of them were. It was a beauty that she could not put into words. It was like the soft sigh of the wind on a bright summer afternoon, it was the churning of crystal clear water in a babbling brook—of blossoming flowers straining to catch the grace of the sun's dawning rays... Magnificent, glorious, mind-numbing and absolutely frightening.
But somehow, she didn't seem to care.
Snarling like a rabid dog, she stalked towards the man holding her child and tore her daughter out of the arms of the odd creature.
Instantly, Dana began to cry as she reached out to the man, "Momma," she whimpered, "Momma, I wanna stay with the pretty man! Momma, please!"
"Hush," she soothed, stroking the dark curls of her daughter's head. With her free arm, she reached out and pulled her son into the safety of her side. Holding them close to her bosom and side, she regarded the peculiar looking men around her with hidden fear and trepidation threatening to burst forth from her pounding heart.
The man she had held and kissed stepped forward slightly.
Instinctively, Amelia took a step back with her children, still holding them close as if she could shield them with her arms from the dangers of the world. "Stay back!" She commanded angrily, her fearful eyes darting back and forth between the six men that had trapped her within the circle of their bodies. She knew that if prompted, she would fight for the lives of her children—arrows or no.
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Rúmil sighed as the oddly dressed woman took the child from his arms. She treated them as though they were to be feared—as though they were enemies. He would never understand mortals and their contrasting behaviour. Shee had seen the awe and reverence of their beauty, yet she feared them all the same. They were such an enigma, these mortal creatures.
Seeing her embrace his stoic brother, seeing her kiss him through her tears had pained him. It was glaringly obvious that she was mad. She kept calling him 'Kevin' and he deduced that it must have been the name of her bond-mate... Her beloved.
There had been so much relief in her gait as she kissed Haldir, whispering sweet endearments to him as though he was the other half to her soul. The four other wardens had also witnessed this display, and Rúmil could see that they had been shocked that Haldir had allowed such contact from her. Perhaps his brother saw something that they could not..?
As the perplexing mortal woman finally realised that Haldir was not her bond-mate, the broken expression on her face had nearly undone him. Were she an elf, she would had faded from this world; of that, there was no doubt.
He locked his grey eyes with the little girl's two rounded blue eyes as she stared at him, crying and reaching out for him. The strings of his heart tugged at the innocent, tear-stained face that called out to him. He did not understand the Common Tongue, but he knew a few words and he was pleased, and slightly embarrassed, that she had called him 'pretty'. With those words, she had found a place within his heart. All elven children in Lothlórien had aged and were now adolescents, or had come of age. It had been many years since the Golden Wood had heard the tinkering laughter of children...
Secretly, Rúmil wondered how the family of mortals had wandered into the realm of Lórien. Something about their presence felt old, timeless—even though he knew from the woman's face that she could be no more than thirty-four years of age.
His thoughts faded away as he observed the interaction between his brother and the woman.
Silently, the other wardens of Lothlórien also watched their commander and Captain deal with the trapped trio of skittish mortals.
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Haldir felt his heart throb as the unnatural woman kissed him as if he was the only thing that could keep her from drowning in her sorrow. He did not have the heart to push her away, to tell her that he was not this man, 'Kevin' that she spoke of between her sobs of relief and joy.
And then, the moment had been shattered by a young boy's voice. She had pulled away from him, looking at him with something akin to horror and fear as she realised that he was not her 'Kevin'. Her jade green orbs floundered precariously, upon the very brink of losing her sanity.
Until she blinked. As he observed her, he could almost visibly see the stone walls being erected within her eyes. Her posture straightened and no longer was she defeated and broken by the realisation that she had kissed a stranger.
She stood now huddling, what he assumed was, her children. As if she was protecting and shielding them from the wrath of the elves around her. All three mortals wore strange garb and cloth, unidentifiable and remarkable in craftsmanship. He wondered if she had created them...
He sensed no immediate danger from her and the children looked to be an innocent pair. Even though the young lad was glaring at Haldir with poorly concealed suspicion and intrigue.
Taking a step forward, he almost frowned as the woman shied her children away from his cool, indifferent gaze. Surely she should know that elves were noble! However, judging from her distrustful demeanor and the odd sensation he felt as he looked at her, he knew that he would have to tread softly.
"I am Haldir of Lórien," he started quietly in the Common Tongue, "You have passed through the borders of our land. We bear you no ill will, though you may go no further into this realm. However, I am willing to offer my assistance, if you wish it."
She blinked, "Lórien? Where's that?"
Haldir frowned, "It is the realm of Lady Galadriel, Lady of the Light."
The woman shook her head, "Lady of the Light?" She parroted, "Look buddy, I don't know what's going on or who you are, but I just want to take my children and home. Okay?"
"I know nothing of this buddy..." He looked at her with a confused expression on his usually emotionless face. "Where is your home?"
"San Francisco," she looked at him as though he were mad.
The Marchwarden mirrored her look, "This realm is unknown to me."
"It's a city, not a realm. We're not living in the middle-ages you know."
Haldir pinched the bridge of his nose. He did not have time to deal with the raving ramblings coming from a delusional mortal. "May I have your name?"
She stared at him long and hard, relaxing slightly as she realised that he would cause her family no harm. "Amelia... Amelia Rendall."
"Amelia of Rendall?"
"No, just Amelia Rendall; it's my second name."
The Marchwarden was growing confused by the second. "Ah—" He was about to say more when he heard the Lady's voice whisper into hiss mind. Tilting his head, he listened to her decree.
Bring her to me, my Marchwarden... Bring her to me.
Blinking away the effect of the mind-speak, he looked sternly at the woman and her children. "I have been ordered to bring you to the Lady."
"What?" Amelia exclaimed, scowling. "Listen, I'm not going anywhere with you and your weird men. I'm taking my children and I'm leaving."
Haldir stepped forward intentionally, "I am afraid that I cannot allow you to do that, my lady." He froze as she spied his pointed ears.
"W-what are you?" Amelia pulled her children closer to her, in an attempt to protect them.
The Marchwarden bowed, "I am an elf."
With his words, she promptly crumpled to the ground before him. Staring dazedly at the unconscious woman, he noticed that his youngest brother had swept the girl-child into his arms before she too hit the ground with her mother. The boy with the brown hair and green eyes had tried to hold her up, but he did not possessed the strength to keep her upright, and so he fell to the ground with his mother.
"Hey!" His shout of surprise pierced through Haldir's sensitive hearing, causing him to wince. "What did you do to my mom?" The young boy accused, shooting the elves around him another suspicious glare.
Haldir crouched down beside the angry boy, "I did nothing, little one. It would seem that your mother has received a terrible shock. We will care for her, if you allow us to?"
The boy nodded reluctantly, "Okay."
He took the strange word to be an affirmative, "What is your name?"
"Dylan, and that's my little sister, Dana," he pointed to the girl ensconced within Rúmil's arms. Haldir held back a smile and jibe at the sight of the hardened warrior elf, holding a small child to his chest.
"You all have very strange names," he remarked quietly, as he lifted Amelia's prone form into his arms. He would carry her to the nearby talan, that had been posted along the Northern fences of Lórien.
"Yeah right," Dylan snorted in disbelief, "This coming from someone called Haldir!"
The Marchwarden bit back a smile at the sharp retort. He stood corrected.
Whoever this strange and intriguing family was, Haldir had orders from the Lady to bring them to Caras Galadhon. He was still suspicious as to why they had entered the borders of his realm, but he knew that questions would be
answered upon the Lady's inquiry. Perhaps then he would be able to solve the mystery of this green-eyed female.
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Chapter 2 - A Dream
Author's Notes: A few people have commented on my spelling ;-) so let me clear something up; I'm British! Which means that I have different ways of spelling words, e.g. The American word for gray would be spelt grey in England. The same goes for words like realized, which become realised with an 's' and color which I spell as colour. I hope this makes things clearer as to why my spelling is different. However, I noticed that there were a few minor typos, and so I've gone back and corrected them.
Also, I would like to thank NancyBrooke for pointing out about the language barrier confusion; all the 'modern' characters are speaking Westron, even though they don't realise it... Yet! Thanks for all of your reviews, I appreciate your opinions!
Time frame: Some years before the War of the Ring.
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Born Again
Chapter Two:
A Dream.
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Rúmil, still holding the young girl in his arms, moved to follow his brother to the safety of the talan. The other guards remained at their posts at Haldir's command whilst his older sibling carried the strange woman in his arms; her son trailing behind them. As they walked through the spectacular trees, Rúmil decided that he would like to learn a little more about the precious child within his arms—even though he knew little Westron and the minor detail he was still suspicious of their arrival in the fair woods of his people. But if the Lady had ordered his brother to bring the odd family to Caras Galadhon, then he surmised that they must bear no ill will towards the people of Lothlórien. After all, the Lady would never place her people in such grave danger.
“You name?” He finally asked.
The little girl looked confused at his question. He tried his approach differently and pointed to himself, “I Rúmil, you name?” He pointed to her nose and pressed it slightly with the pad of his index finger.
She giggled delightfully, “Dana,” she said, pointing to herself, “Roo-meel,” she then copied his previous actions and pressed his nose gently.
Rúmil chuckled and wiggled his nose against her finger, “Yes. I, Rúmil. You, Dah-na.”
The blue-eyed girl rolled her eyes dramatically, “Not Dah-na, silly! It's Day-nah... Day-nah. Can't you speak English, Roo-meel?”
He frowned, “What English? Me know Westron, little bit. Not big like brother.”
It was Dana's turn to frown. “What's a West-ron? We're speaking English now!”
Rúmil shook his head defensively, “No, we speak Westron.”
“English,” Dana huffed.
“Westron,” the elf insisted.
“ENGLISH!”
Rúmil sighed, finally giving in to the child's arguments. She was clearly addle-brained like her mother and positively more stubborn than his oldest brother. He was certain that they were speaking Westron, not this English, as the girl kept insisting! Though, no matter how strange the child was, she was still incredibly interesting to him.
As they continued to walk, he spied a flower bed approaching. Leaning down, he swiped at the stems and offered the small bunch to the excited girl in his arms.
“So pretty!” She squealed, hugging the multi-coloured flowers to her chest. He smiled as she squirmed in his arms, but he did not dare to set her down. He was afraid that she would become lost in her wanderings and that he would have to answer to her raving mother should something happen to her. “Thank you,” Dana said gratefully, planting a soft but sloppy wet kiss upon his cheek. Rúmil resisted the urge to grimace and wipe away the patch of wet saliva, though his heart warmed at the gratitude she had shown.
As a gentle breeze passed through the trunks of the majestic trees, he watched as the young girl's dark curls shivered against the wind. The warden came to the conclusion that all children, no matter what race, were equally beautiful; especially this little girl that had called him pretty. Rúmil was still stroking his ego at the little comment she had made from her mother's arms. He could not wait to tell his other brother Orophin, about that particular comment.
“Why are your ears weird Roo-meel? Is that why my momma fell? Was she scared?”
He was startled from his thoughts by the barrage of questions from the little girl; he smiled sadly, “I no understand. You ask brother Haldir,” he pointed to his brother's back as he weaved gracefully amongst the tree-trunks of their home.
Dana shrugged and nodded, resigning herself to watching the beautiful scenery that passed by. Being five years of age, she found nothing to be too strange. After all, her imagination consisted of fairies and trolls, princes and princesses. So, she concluded that she and her family were going on an adventure... And little did she know that this adventure was very much real and that it would change her life quite drastically.
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Amelia groaned and shifted as she slowly began to gain her senses. Her head was pounding but other than that small ailment, she felt well; even if she was feeling slightly groggy. She deduced that she must have been dreaming... Dreaming about her husband and—elves? Frowning with her eyes still shut, she snorted indelicately and rolled onto her side. Elves indeed! The idea was preposterous, maddening and if she were honest, slightly psychotic. Elves weren't supposed to be tall and beautiful, they were meant to be short little helpers to a mystical fat man with a white beard—a man that ate too many mince pies and drank far too much sherry, in her opinion. She hardly considered Santa Claus an ideal role model.
And yet, her frown deepened into a scowl at the solidity of the bed beneath her. She did not remember her mattress being so hard and uncomfortable... Sighing with frustration, she wrenched her eyes open and found herself staring at a canopy of golden leaves and rich brown branches.
Something was not right.
Sitting up slowly from her position on the wooded floor, Amelia looked around at her surroundings and found her pulse quickening at the sight. She was somewhere on a platform, next to a wonderfully beautiful tree. It seemed the the platform was being held up by the branches of the tree, but she was certain that such a feat could not be possible. She noted that the sun had set and a few jewelled stars peaked out through the gaps of the leaves... It was almost as if she could touch the stars! Her mouth ran dry as her eyes settled upon the lithe form of a man sitting against the trunk of the tree, watching her through the dark night as though his eyes could pierce through the ebony blanket with ease. She barely remembered his name—Haldir? She wasn't sure, but if it was then she was quite certain that she had not been dreaming the previous events of the day.
Her children!
In her hasty attempt to observe the situation, she had forgotten about her children.
Scrambling to her feet, Amelia backed away from the 'elf' and gasped as he rose to his feet, slowly advancing towards her.
In the pale moonlight, she scould barely make out the stoic features of his beautiful face and the grim determination within his cold blue eyes. She had thought that those eyes had resembled her husband's. But she had been wrong. There had been a warmth in her husband's eyes that was not present within this man's... Elf's. Panic began to settle in her nerves; she had been doing pretty well until now. She had to find her children. She had to find them and run from this place—find anyone that could help them from these delusional people that ran around in National Parks wielding weapons all the while thinking that they were elves!
Amelia took another step backwards, and cried out as the elf leapt forward gracefully and roughly pulled her towards him.
Her eyes focused on his pointed ears; it was all the incentive she needed to start screaming.
The cold, furious look in his eyes startled her, but did no deter her from her screaming. The elf named Haldir snarled at her in another language before clamping his hand down upon her open mouth.
“Silence,” he hissed.
She struggled against his abnormally strong grip, wincing as he held her in a rather painful manner. The dark-haired woman tried to rein in her fear and anger at being man-handled so carelessly. She whimpered beneath the smooth palm of his hand as he kept it pressed to her mouth. “Silence,” he ordered again, “Your bemoaning will alert every orc around the Northern fences of Lothlórien to our presence!... Now, Look!” He pointed downwards.
Amelia's eyes widened as he held her near the edge of the platform. If she had taken another step back, she would have gone over the edge and fallen down into the endless dark abyss that glared up at her from beneath the sturdy platform. She bit back a gasp, realising that had Haldir not stepped in, she would have fallen to her death.
Stilling within his grasp, Haldir eyed her warily, “Will you cease your screaming? The shadow grows in the East and I will not have you endangering my wardens with your maddening behaviour.”
She didn't understand his words, but she was clearly abashed by his stern reprimand. She felt like a child being berated in such a way. But what was she endangering? She didn't understand anything..! Choking back a sob at her captivity, Amelia nodded meekly at his words, if only to be free of his painful grip. Tears formed in the corner of her eyes as she rubbed her wrists, watching as Haldir stepped away before drawing her away from the edge of the platform.
He looked at her sore wrists and frowned slightly, “It is not my intention to harm you, my lady. But you need to be calm, lest you alert our presence to the orcs outside our borders.”
Now he was being chivalrous?
Amelia shook her head, her dark tresses lashing out against the soothing wind; she must still be dreaming. Yes, that's what it was. A dream. And nothing could harm her in a dream... Could it?
Despite herself, she asked the question that had been niggling at the back of her mind since she first opened her eyes; “Where are my children?”
The tense set of the man's, or elf's shoulders relaxed slightly at her quietly spoken question. He nodded once in approval before motioning to another tree twelve feet away, “Your son is in the opposite talan and your daughter...” He trailed off and gestured towards the slight opening at the trunk of the tree. It was wide enough for a person to slip onto the platform from beneath... Like a fireman's pole, with the tree acting as a pole.
She waited with bated breath until she saw a silver head peek out from the opening. Sighing with relief, Amelia bit her lip as another of Haldir's men, who looked quite a bit like Haldir, approached her with her daughter in his arms. She wriggled free of his grasp as she was set down on the platform, before running towards her outstretched arms and barreling into her stomach.
Amelia smiled with relief and joy as she hugged her daughter tightly. Now, if only they would bring her son here... Then she could think of an escape plan. It was good to learn that her daughter was safe and well for the time being.
“Ow Momma, you're squishing me!”
She loosened her grasp and knelt to meet her daughter at eye-level, “Are you all right? You're not hurt, are you?”
Dana blinked owlishly and shook her head, “Nuh-uh. But lookie!” She presented Amelia with a bunch of flowers before pointing to the wreath of flowers on her head, “And here too!”
Amelia bit back her chuckle, “That's very pretty.”
“Roo-meel made it for me, he can't speak much English, but I'm going to teach him!” She bounced excitedly on the spot; her daughter never seemed to run out of energy. “Aren't they boo-tiful?”
At her pronunciation, Amelia could not stop the laughter that bubbled forth. Gently, a tear rolled down her cheek as she nodded in agreement, “Yes, they're boo-tiful,” she said, mimicking her daughter's way with words.
Dana grinned but grew somber at her mother's tears, “Why are you sad Momma? You don't like my flowers?”
“Oh no, honey,” she gasped, pulling her youngest child in for another hug, “Momma's just happy.”
“So... They're happy tears?”
“Yes, they're happy tears—” Her words lodged within her throat as the sound of a throat being cleared alerted her to the two men that stood silently, watching their reunion. Amelia glared at Haldir, assuming that he was the one in charge of the lunatics that roamed the woods with dangerous weapons. As much as she wanted to believe that she was dreaming, she did not think she was. Her dreams were usually more hazy. Everything around her felt so real, so vibrant and full of life that she couldn't possibly be in a dream. If she managed to find her way out of this situation, Amelia knew that she was going to have to report these strange people to the police.
Holding her daughter close to her side, she turned to face the delusional men who thought they were elves. And so what if they had pointed ears..? They could easily be false. After all, the movie industry was doing wondrous things with latex in the recent years.
“I want my son,” she started adamantly, glaring at Haldir, “And then, I want you to let us leave. Do you understand what I'm saying?”
Haldir tilted his head in acknowledgment, “Your son will be brought to you, but I cannot allow you to leave. I was ordered by the Lady to bring you to Caras Galadhon.”
Amelia sighed in frustration at the unknown place. She was certain that no such place existed in San Francisco, “Let us go!” She clenched her teeth, holding back a furious snarl as she tried to quell the fear that blossomed within her heart.
The so-called elf held his stance, he opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by her daughter's voice.
“But Momma, I wanna stay for a while! The elves have been so nice, and they're all really pretty.”
“Elves are not real, Dana,” she snapped unintentionally.
“Then why are they standing in front of us?” Dana asked innocently.
Amelia was stumped. “They're not really elves,” she reasoned, “Elves aren't supposed to be like this and...” She trailed off, knowing that she was grasping at invisible straws. They aren't supposed to be so breath-takingly beautiful, she thought to herself. She knew that something was not quite right about the men she had encountered in forest. They were perfection personified, the kind that made her want to weep... She had never met a man with such intense beauty, nor had she seen anything of their like on television. But somehow, she did not think that television could do them justice.
At present, Amelia did not know what to believe.
She slumped down to the wooded floor and barely noticed that her daughter had crawled into her lap. With a detached perception of the activity around her, she watched as Haldir spoke with Dana's caretaker before the strange man disappeared through the opening of the platform, beside the tree-trunk.
There just had to be a safe way for her to escape with her children! Hell would freeze over a thousand times before she let these psychotic men harm them.
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Chapter 3 - Silver Box of Doom
Author's Notes:It's hard juggling three stories at once, but I think I'm getting the hang of it. I'd like to thank everyone for the wonderful feedback, I really appreciate your views and opinions. I'm trying not to make this story an MS as I'm dealing with the reality of what it would be like to end up in Middle-earth. I'm sure that towards the end, some people will probably think that this is an MS ;sigh; oh well, I have tried my best. Updates should come weekly as I am very busy with my own family; dealing with two little ones and a man that still acts like a grown child can be difficult.
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Born Again
Chapter Three:
Silver Box of Doom.
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Haldir felt his frown deepen as he looked at the reunited trio of slumbering mortals. They were truly strange. They were a complete enigma; never before had he encountered mortals with such odd dispositions as them. The woman was out-spoken and seemed incredibly rude, almost to the point of lunacy and the children... Well, the children were unlike any other mortal children he had met in the settlements around Lothlórien! Most seemed to fear and revere the Eldar, but these children only regarded them with intense curiosity, especially the littlest one.
The family's clothing was highly suspicious, even if it was surprisingly clean for mortals—from what he knew, the race of Men were not known for their cleanliness. And Haldir was privy to this information as he had surveyed many of the mortal settlements near Lothlórien and felt that they were clearly lacking in the meticulous ritual of bathing and washing.
The woman, Amelia, wore a strange white dress with a multitude of delicately embroidered yellow flowers that must have taken many hours of labour to complete. A wealthy family perhaps? From what his attuned eyes could perceive, the stitching was quite remarkable, almost eerily perfect. Yet, no matter how skilled the dress-maker was, Haldir felt that the dress was still incredibly indecent; it only reached to the middle of her thighs and there were no sleeves! How it was held up, was a complete mystery to him though it fascinated him beyond propriety. Her shoulders and arms were bare for all to see and he knew not what to make of this. He had been sorely tempted to offer his cloak so that she may cover herself more appropriately, but he was not certain how this gesture would have been received by her. Most likely, she would have argued with him.
What was even more stranger than the dress, were the blue leggings she wore beneath it. He could understand this, seeing as the tunic-dress was far too short to be a dress... But then, why make the dress short in the first place? It was all extremely puzzling. As well as their mother, the children were also clad in the same strange blue leggings but wore different short-sleeved tunics; the girl wore a rose coloured tunic and the boy, a dark blue one. The blue leggings the trio wore seemed to be made from a material that Haldir had never seen before.
What part of Middle did they hail from? It must be an unknown land, of that there was no doubt.
He eyed the sleeping family warily, folding his arms as he shifted his gaze to observe their footwear. The more he evaluated their appearance, the more suspicious he became. Tilting his head slightly, Haldir was interrupted from his musings as he could sense his brother silently climbing the rope ladder of the talan to join him on the platform.
Haldir motioned for his brother to speak quietly, as he was unwilling to disturb the family from their nightly rest. The woman slept fitfully, but he was relieved that she had at least ceased her arguing.
“We took this from the boy,” Orophin whispered softly, so softly that only Elven ears could discern his Sindarin speech. “He was most anxious that we confiscated it from him; we had to swear that we would return it to him,” he handed Haldir a silver metal box and a rectangular black pouch that smelt of leather, but also of other things he could not name.
“Have you opened this?” Haldir held up the pouch, waving it at his younger brother.
Orophin shook his head with a wry grin, “The other wardens and I thought it best for you to have the honour.”
“I see,” Haldir scowled mockingly. “What is it? Were my wardens so afraid of the contents, that they bade you to bring it to me?”
“Perhaps,” Orophin's lips twitched with mirth before his face grew serious. “I would be careful, brother. We are uncertain of their intentions and know not what is in that pouch, nor what the silver object is.”
Bidding farewell to one another, Orophin soon turned and scuttled back down the ladder to return to his guard post.
Haldir took the objects as he settled himself onto the wooded floor of the platform. He sat and inspected them with immense curiosity, running the pads of his fingers along the sharp lines of the metal box that had odd attachments to it. Putting the object aside, he focused his attentions upon the black rectangular pouch that spanned the length of his hand.
He rubbed the foreign material with a deep frown and tilted it slightly. There was a flap that folded over the pouch that seemed to jut out slightly. Hesitantly, he pulled the flap and blinked as it opened with a small 'pop' that was unfamiliar to his ears. He looked at the two silver buttons etched into the pouch, one on the upper and inner side of the flap and the other at the bottom. The top silver button seemed to have a peak that jutted out and the bottom button had an indent.
Testing his theory, he closed the flap again and was surprised to hear it shut with a 'click'.
He did this several times, clearly fascinated by the contraption and the ingenuity of it all. Finally, he parted the folds and examined the contents of the pouch, pulling out thin rectangular green parchment in the process. How the parchment had been dyed green, was a complete and utter mystery! He understood that cloth could be dyed, but parchment? Raising them to his nose, Haldir sniffed them delicately, grimacing at the tangy vile smells that emanated from them.
There was printed script upon the parchment that he could not understand, and there was also the face of a man on one side! All of them were the same. It was all very suspicious. Had someone spent all their time drawing upon all of the thin pieces? He did not think so. It was almost as if the ink had been deeply etched into the fine green parchment.
Sighing with confusion, he put the pieces of parchment aside and sifted through the pouch once more. There were silver coins, finely wrought and unlike the rough gold and silver coins he had come across in mortal markets before. All the coins seemed to be made with a skilled hand, produced exactly the same as the other, much like the parchments! It was too peculiar to fathom.
Soon enough, Haldir's eyes caught a flash of colour within the pouch. He pulled out the object and stared with awe at the three faces that smiled back at him, set against more strange parchment—this parchment, however, was slick and shiny to his touch. It was different, yet it was somehow the same.
The parchment, if he could call it that, was a portrait of the family that had been captured with precise accuracy! It was almost as if they were within the painting... Laughing and smiling at him, as though their very souls had been trapped and transplanted into the portrait. He scowled at the so-called painting, blinking at the fines lines of their faces. The setting of the sea and the shore was slightly familiar—that was the sole comfort that Haldir had been offered. The rest was an utter mystery, from their clothing to the objects that sat at their feet.
He felt his ears redden to their very tips as his eyes grazed over the woman's form. Valar! She was wearing nought but two pieces of cloth covering her most private assets.
Blinking with embarrassment, he wondered how a woman could put herself on display without feeling any sense of shame. Rather than looking uncomfortable, she seemed to be incredibly happy. Looking at the immaculate painting, things were becoming far more suspicious than he ever thought they could be.
The more that Haldir examined the contents of the pouch, the more he came across the mind-boggling portraits and uncanny paintings of the family. Some were in bizarre settings that he had never seen before in his long life and it disturbed him greatly to see them, for he knew not what to make of them.
There was one painting that particularly caught his interest; it was of the woman laughing as she was held from behind by a tall man with dark hair and clear blue eyes. He was comely for a mortal, but again, his clothing was strange. They seemed to be happy and the expression of love upon his face as he gazed at the woman was not missed by the silent Marchwarden. Could this be the man she had spoken of? It seemed highly possible; the woman's son slightly resembled him, though he had his mother's green eyes.
Haldir came across several more paintings of the man and Amelia, both looking insanely joyful and very much in love.
In the end, the paintings' perplexing nature grew taxing and he finally put them aside, along with the pouch. He would have to speak with her about them.
Haldir now focused upon the silver box.
Turning the object around in his hands, he bit his bottom lip in thought.
His fingers roughly grazed over an attached piece that caused the strange box to come alive! Shrinking back slightly with fear and widened eyes, he watched in deeply rooted fascination as a round cylindrical object expanded out from the silver box! Hesitantly, he slid the attachment back into place and watched as the circular object returned back into the box, as though it had never appeared.
Feeling mildly disturbed and intrigued, Haldir continued this process and watched with child-like awe as each time, the cylindrical mystery returned to it's place before expanding—all at his touch!
He briefly wondered what it was for.
Of their own accord, Haldir's thumbs began to trace the contours and edges of the silver box. His roaming fingers unwittingly pressed against something and before he could move, he was being blinded by a flash of light that came from the corner of the box.
With a startled and outraged cry, he dropped the object onto the floor and brought the heel of his hands to his eyes. “Agh! What is this devilry?” He heard himself growl hysterically as he opened his eyes and could see nought but colourful spots dancing across his vision. He rubbed them again, desperately trying to quell the panic he felt within his heart at not being able to see.
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Amelia was jolted awake at the sound of a muffled cry and foreign curse.
She sat up, blinking away the remnants of her fitful sleep before scanning the wooded platform that was high up in the branches of the tree. Slightly alarmed, she watched with morbid fascination as the man named Haldir writhed on the floor with his hands against his eyes, as though he was in tremendous pain.
Coming to her senses, she rose quickly and went to his side to see if he was all right, glad that her children slept deeply.
“Are you all right?” She asked, kneeling beside him as he whimpered and kept his hands to his eyes. Had he hurt himself?
“I am blind!” He muttered to himself, “I am blind!”
Amelia's maternal instincts soon began to take precedence over the situation as she pulled his unwilling hands away from his eyes. Forcefully, she opened his eyes and blew lightly—if he had something in them, that would surely get it out. But as soon as he felt her cool breath in his eyes, Haldir struggled against her touch and pushed her away with an inhumane strength. “Haldir?” She said the name fearfully, “What's the matter? Are you okay?”
Several moments of silence passed as she watched the man steady his breathing, all the while composing himself to neutral indifference. Though his crouched form was fraught with underlying tension.
Amelia frowned and shifted awkwardly in the silence. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled—from the corner of her eye, she could see several shadowed forms standing on nearby branches, watching them closely.
Haldir rose from his crouched position and finally raised his ice-blue eyes to hers.
Amelia felt her heart flutter against her rib-cage as he glared at her. He looked quite deadly and frightening as he gazed at her.
“What,” Haldir started quietly, “Is that evil contraption?”
She followed his arm as he pointed to the object on the ground.
It was her camera.
He was getting agitated over a simple camera? The man had some serious issues.
She opened her mouth to speak, but found that her words were lodged in her throat as she spied her purse and it's contents strewn out across the wood flooring. With a cry of indignation, she rushed to her fallen purse and the private family photos that were laying upon the floor for all the world to see. Her cheeks burned in anger and tears brimmed within her eyes as she set about placing the photos and money carefully back into her purse, before she turned on the man that was now looking at her with a stern countenance.
“How dare you! Those—”
Haldir held up his hand with barely concealed fury, “How dare I? My lady, I have been attacked by your monstrosity! You shall explain yourself immediately,” he waited for her to respond.
Amelia felt her mouth open and close, her anger momentarily forgotten. “Attacked? Monstrosity?” Blinking with disbelief, she snorted and picked up the fallen digital camera. “Are you crazy? How can you be attacked by a camera?”
“Is that what it is called? A Cam-eh-rah?” He asked pensively as she waved it in front of him. Amelia noted that his hand lingered upon the hilt of a dagger that was strapped to his side. How could one person become so frightened over a camera? And how many weapons did the man carry?!
She was baffled. Completely and utterly baffled. How could he be wary of her because of her camera? For goodness sake, she should wary of them—after all, they were the ones with the dangerous weapons and fake, pointed ears! The man and his fellow comrades were clearly in need of medical attention, of the mental kind.
“It's not a weapon,” she reassured sarcastically. She refused to believe that he didn't know what a camera was. But then why did he react so intensely at the flash? She had honestly thought he was in pain... Perhaps that had been an act? She could not be certain, but she was clearly confused by his ignorance.
“I was blinded by that... That thing,” Haldir said stoutly, “I consider it to be a weapon. What are you?” He demanded, “Are you a sorceress of some kind? In all my years, I have never seen such objects come to light! You will speak, for I will not have you endanger my wardens nor the people of this wood.”
The brown-haired woman felt her head begin to pound once more.
Things were growing far too strange for her liking.
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Printed from Open Scrolls Archive (https://www.openscrolls.net) on Sat Nov 14, 2026 7:34 pm