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

Title: Steps of Doom (#690)
Author: aniron1982
Chapters: 2

Warning: Undefined variable $retval in /home/httpd/vhosts/openscrolls.net/httpdocs/fanfic/download.php on line 105

Archive: Tolkien
Category: Lord of the Rings (Movieverse)
Description: POST- ROTK A story about friendship, love, deceit and hate ... LOC but with a twist (R&R please, we needs it ...)
Published: 10 Mar 2004
Updated: 03 Apr 2004
Warnings:
Type: Drama
Characters: Legolas-OC


Chapter 1 - chapter 1 - (I know, not very original)

DISCLAIMER:

I’m not related to Tolkien (that’s quite a shocker). I’m not even the daughter of his cousin’s daughter, twice removed. As a consequence, I do not own any of the wonderful characters that appear in his magnificent books (although Legolas or Aragorn are free to visit). I do own Morganne, Navril, and all the other original ones – in case you wondered.

I’d like to thank my friend Badia, who was so kind to help with the translation ! I owe you big time !

I’ve read LOTR many times, and I know that the end of the movie (the crowning of Aragorn) isn’t exactly as in the books.

Nevertheless, this story is based on the ending of the film version, so things don’t get to complicated for people who didn’t read the books (you really should get starting !!)



Chapter one



Morganne looked with delight at the people around her. It had been such a long time since she had seen so many happy and hopeful faces, that she had nearly forgotten there existed such things as happiness and hope.

The news had reached them, and it spread like wild fire throughout the city of Minas Thirith : The Dark Lord was finally defeated, and once again, a King would rule the land of Gondor.

Instantly people had started celebrating their joy on the streets. The dark days seemed to be over at last. After years of decaying glory Gondor would once again be the mighty and powerful kingdom it had been in long forgotten times.

Morganne cheered and relished the warm feeling of happiness. She was so caught up in the moment that she first didn’t notice how someone grabbed her gently by the shoulders.

Slightly irritated she turned her head and saw her older brother’s face looking at her urgently.

“Nildolion?”

“You have to come home straight away. I’ve been searching for you everywhere and I couldn’t find you in all this commotion …”

Startled Morganne gazed at her brother.

“Did something happen? Everything is alright, isn’t it?”

“Yes, yes , but we have to hurry; they have been waiting…”

“Who?”

“Come with me, you shall see,” and Nildolion took his sister by the hand and dragged her through the crowd.

The house Morganne shared with her parents and four brothers, stood in the third circle of the capital. Her father was a blacksmith, who was known for his skill in making swords and famed for the quality of his arrows. Her four brothers helped in the smithy.

Morganne had always been a bit of an outsider at home. When her parents had given up any hope for a daughter, she was born. And thus she had an age difference with her older siblings, but it never really bothered her. Especially with her younger brother Nildolion, who was 5 years her elder, she shared a ‘special’ connection. They always understood each other.

Then why does he start now to speak in riddles? she thought bitterly. What was so urgent that she had to hurry home right in the middle of the celebrations?



After a while and lots of pushing and pulling, they finally reached their humble home. Just when she was about to enter the house, her brother stopped her and to her utter amazement, started to flatten her wild black curls which lay even more tangled then usual after the running.

“Nildolion? What are you doing??”

“Sorry, but I couldn’t let you go inside looking like that. They would startle to death by such an appearance …”

“Who are “they” and what…?”

But her brother interrupted her.

“Mmm, that’s better, come, follow me.” And quickly Nildolion entered the house. Sighing she followed.

Immediately she stood still at the threshold. Just in time she remembered to close her mouth which had fallen open in surprise. There, in the small living room where she had lived for sixteen years now, in her favourite chair – the one nearest to the fireplace - sat an Elf. She saw it at once by the way he sat (straight as an arrow), by his rich and beautiful garment and foremost by his pointy ears protruding from underneath his long brown hair. Of course she had heard many stories about these beautiful beings - a rumour spoke of an elf witch who lived on the outskirts of Ithilien - but she had never actually seen one.

Suddenly she heard a small cough and realized she must have been staring. Hurriedly she looked away, and noticed that there was someone else present, not and Elf, but a young woman.

Instantly Morganne regained her manners and curtsied respectfully to the guests.

The young lady and the Elf gave a gentle nod.

“My Lord, My Lady, this is Morganne, I was told that you have been looking for her?” Morganne’s mother, a kind-hearted woman, walked to her daughter and softly put her hands on her shoulders. It was the Elf who answered.

“Indeed we have. Rumour has reached us of your daughters exceptionally singing skills,” Morganne felt her cheeks redden. – “ and we’d like her to sing on the coronation feast of King Elessar.”

Silence fell. It took a while before everything sunk in. Morganne’s ears tingled. She got to sing on the feast for King Elessar? She, a simple sixteen-year old girl got to sing for the King, whom everybody knew had close ties with the Elves who, as also everybody knew, had the fairest voices in all Middle-Earth? She must have misunderstood, she must have. Or was this a dream? She pinched herself in the arm and stifled a cry. No, she was awake. She felt her mothers hands sink deeper into her shoulders.

The silence was finally broken when she heard , from a dark little corner, her father -whom she had not noticed before- stammer : “ You honour us greatly, My Lord. To what do we owe this fortune?”

“The honour is ours, Master Novhrir. You will attend?” he asked as he faced Morganne.

Morganne, still stunned, nodded quickly, and hurriedly added – as she remembered her manners again - “Yes, My Lord, it will be my pleasure.”

The Elf gave her a gentle smile and Morganne realized how fair he really looked. He was beautiful, with his brown, well kept hair and high cheekbones, and when he smiled his face seemed to clear up and his grey, timeless eyes sparkled. He looked like a man in his twenties, but she knew he had to be much older.

“Very well. Minyalach,” and he gestured towards the young woman, “will come to

fetch you in two days time. You will be able to stay at the palace for a few days, there will be a room prepared for you.”

He rose. And the young woman followed. The Elf nodded politely to Morganne’s parents and brothers, who had been following the happenings in the shadows, and then his gaze rested on the girl.

“I will see you in a few days. Till then.”

And with those words, the guests left the small house of blacksmith Novhrir.

Two days later Morganne stood dressed and packed, ready to leave for the palace. Her mother had helped her pack a few clothes, she even got a couple of new dresses “ because you have to look your best on an occasion like this”. The entire family sat waiting nervously in the small living room for the servant girl to arrive.

“Are you sure you have got everything you need?”

“Yes, mother. I’m sure. Don’t worry. And even if I did forget something , Nildolion can always bring it…”

“Child, we can’t just go up to the palace door and knock! It’s a great honour that you have been invited by the King. You do realize that?”

Morganne sighed. “Yes, mother.” The last two days her mother had not stopped taking about it. To all who wanted to hear it, she had told them about the great fortune of her daughter, so that after a while Morganne began to feel ashamed. Of course she was happy and of course she realized that this was a great opportunity, but she thought it was unnecessary to make such a fuss about it. After all she was only gone for a couple of days. And after the feast she’d be little Morganne, strange daughter of blacksmith Novhrir, again.

Absentmindedly she let her fingers stroke her most precious possession; her harp. It had been an heirloom of her grandmothers. The old woman had taught her overzealous grandchild the necessary techniques and knowledge with great pleasure. Sadly, she passed away last year, and had left the harp to her granddaughter.

It was a rare instrument, and only a few could play it. And thus Morganne had build up a certain reputation; despite her age she had been asked to play at a large number of weddings and feasts.

And now she was going to the palace for a few days… How would King Elessar be like? She had heard from some that he was very handsome. Others told her that he was raised by the Elves and she even heard tell that he lost his heart to a She-Elf. It was this last part that Morganne didn’t believe a word of. It was a rarity for an Elf and a Man to marry. It just wasn’t done.

A soft knock on the door made everybody jump. Master Novhrir stood up and hurriedly opened the door. There stood the young woman they had met the day before yesterday. She smiled gently.

Quickly Morganne gathered her things, but soon realized that she could never carry it all by herself. Even the servant girl, Minyalach, was taken aback by the amount the girl had to bring with her. Her eyes fell on the strange instrument. She had heard about the heavenly sounds the blacksmiths daughter could produce from it, and she was anxious to see for herself how the girl played it.

“I will carry the bags, so that you can carry the harp?”

Morganne nodded. She kissed her parents goodbye and gave her brothers a tight hug.

Then she followed Minyalach out the door. It was the first time she ever left home, and even though it was only for a few days, it felt a bit strange. With mixed feelings she walked behind the servant girl, not knowing that with each step she took her doom came closer to fulfilment.





please, let me know what you think - feedback is really apreciated !!


Chapter 2 - chapter 2

Disclaimer: see chapter 1

I’d like to thank the reviewers – couldn’t do it without you guys !!


Chapter 2


Morganne stared at the girl in the mirror. *This can’t be me?* she thought. She looked so different … so much older. Her long black curls had been braided with fine silver tread, and a light blue garment accentuated her dark grey eyes. Morganne shivered when she remember why she was here. Tonight was the night. Tonight she was going to sing for the newly crowned King Elessar and all his distinguished guests. The ceremony would take place in an hour and Morganne had been given permission to attend it with the servants. For the first time in her life, she felt really nervous.

The last days had been hectic. As soon as Minyalach had brought her to the palace, she had shown her her room and introduced her to the other servants whom all had been very friendly towards her.
With one of the younger girls, Navril, she almost immediately became friends. She had shown Morganne through the castle and although Morganne really had tried to remember everything, she still lost her way. It had caused several embracing situations. For instance, she had walked in, by accident, on lord Faramir and lady Éowyn sharing an intimate moment. Something she didn’t want to happen again !

Yesterday Navril had shown her where she would sing and she had been given some time to practice. She smiled as she remembered the many curious servants who were drawn by the sound of her harp. Morganne had sang a few upbeat songs and everybody had begun to dance. It felt good to see that not all pleasant emotions like joy and friendship had disappeared in the many years of despair and darkness.
And now there would be a king again. She hadn’t met Aragorn, son of Arathorn, the future king Elessar, so far. Morganne hadn’t seen the Elf that came round her house four days ago either. But she had heard from other servants about the distinguished guest that started to arrive: King Éomer of Rohan, brother of Lady Éowyn, Mithrandir, and a certain Elven-prince, Legolas of Mirkwood, who had been one of the nine walkers of the famous fellowship.
The four famous half-lings were to be present also. Morganne had not met them yet, but had heard a lot about the small Shire-folk. Especially the deeds of Frodo Baggins and Samwise Gamgee - together they had destroyed the One Ring by throwing it in Mount Doom - were fast becoming the favourite stories to be told around the fireplace in the evening.

Morganne shivered and rose to her feet. She took a deep breath. Outside she heard the noise of the large crowd gathering in the courtyard. There was a soft knock on her door.
“Morganne? It is time,” came Navril’s gentle voice.
“I’m coming.”
She opened her door and was glad to see her friend. Navril looked beautiful. Her dark blonde hair was elegantly decorated and her soft brown eyes gleamed with anticipation. Together the two girls walked through the many corridors until they reached the other servants who were gathered in a corner of the courtyard.

Morganne held her breath when she saw the huge crowd. Surely, they weren’t all coming to the feast tonight? She didn’t have to sing for such a host of people, did she? She felt her stomach turn. She glanced at Navril and said softly:
“I’m going back inside, I suddenly don’t feel so well.”
Navril watched her with concern.
“Shall I come with you?”
Morganne shook her head.
“No, that won’t be necessary. You stay. I know how much you looked forward to this moment. I will see you later.”
Navril seemed to hesitate, but when she saw the determent look in Morganne’s eyes, she nodded.
“Alright, but I’m coming to see you as soon as the ceremony is over.”
Morganne gave a small smile and entered the palace quickly.

With her head held in her hands she sat in the large hall were she would sing in a few moments time. What was wrong with her? Why the unexpected nerves? Hadn’t she done this before? True, her audience had always been the local baker and butcher, and not, like this time, all the distinguished people from Middle-Earth, but still … . She groaned.
“Do you feel alright, my Lady?”
Startled she looked up and stared straight in the face of the brown-haired Elf that had come round her home a few days ago.
“Master Elf, I’m sorry … I …”
“Don’t be. I didn’t mean to startle you.” He looked at her intently and repeated: “Is everything alright?”
Morganne nodded, but that did not seem to convince him, because he seated himself beside her. Gently he took her hand in his. Morganne jumped by the sudden contact.
“You’re trembling.”
Morganne hesitated a moment but then silently admitted: “I’m nervous.”
The elf laughed softly.
Morganne looked at him irritated, which made him laugh even harder.
“I’m sorry,” he said, “I keep forgetting that humans always are concerned to small things…”
“I don’t think my …”
“It is…,” he interrupted. “What exactly are you worrying about?”
Morganne stood up. She felt herself getting angry. How dare he? What gave him the right to act so trivial about her feelings?
“I’m not an Elf,” she heard herself answer edgily. “I’m not perfect, I make mistakes, and I’m not looking forward to be the laughing stock of all the high placed people of middle-earth.”
As soon as she had said those words, she realized that she might have gone too far, and that he could take her answer as an insult.
Therefore she added hurriedly “My Lord”.
Suddenly she felt a hand on her shoulder and she turned around. She hadn’t notice him rise.
“You won’t,” he said calmly. “You have your talent. Believe in yourself, and believe in the music you sing.” Smiling he added, “You don’t have to call me ‘my Lord’ all the time. I am not nobility. My name is Nemecir.”
“Morganne.”
He nodded. “ I remember. Mae govannen, Morganne.”
“Excuse me?”
“Mae govannen. It’s Sindarin for ‘well met’”
“Oh.” Hesitantly she tried the strange language: “Mae govannen, Nemecir.”
“Good, so now we are properly introduced. I hope I have reassured you a bit. My thoughts will be with you. But now I’m afraid I will have to leave you, or I won’t be able to do what I came for.”
“Maybe I can help?”
Surprised he looked at her.
“Maybe you can. See, I have to add an extra seat next to the king, and I have no idea where the cutlery is, for starters.”
“Can’t the servants do that?” asked Morganne amazed. “After all you’re a guest!”
“I did not want to bother them. A coronation ceremony is a once in a life time experience and I didn’t want to take that away from them. Besides I will probably attend dozens more…”
Morganne laughed. She had completely forgotten about her fears and before she realized what she did, she took Nemecir’s hand and led him to the kitchens
“I can’t guarantee you that we will be back in time. I tend to lose my way her fairly easy.”
All the elf did was smile, barely concealing a laugh.


***


Luckily Morganne’s memory didn’t fail her this time and they returned quickly with the necessary plates, knives and forks. Suddenly a loud cheer erupted in the background; Gondor had officially a new King.
Morganne turned to Nemecir.
“Do you know King Elessar?”
“I met him a long time ago, when he came to visit my home, Mirkwood, Eryn Lasgalen as I should say now. He is a very good friend of Prince Legolas. I don’t really know him, but I do know that he’s a trustworthy and an honourable man. He will be a good King.”
Morganne nodded and stared at the table.
“Why are we setting another seat? I can hardly imagine the servants forgetting someone.”
“Let’s just say that someone very important has arrived rather unexpectedly …”
Morganne wanted to ask more but they were suddenly interrupted by the sound of trumpets.
“Ah, that will be them.”
Morganne realized they were standing alone in the great hall and the last thing she wanted was attracting immediately all the attention. Nemecir felt her discomfort and led her swiftly to one of the side corridors, were luckily the first servants started to emerge to rush to the kitchens.
“Morganne!”
Navril ran to her friend and gave her a worried look. “Are you feeling any better?”
Morganne nodded.
“Good. It’s a shame you missed it, you’ll never guess what happened…”
Her eyes fell on the Elf. At once, she curtsied.
“My Lord, I’m sorry, I did not notice you… I meant no offence.”
Nemecir smiled.
“No offence taken.” Then he turned to Morganne. “I will take my leave now. They will wonder where I am. I will see you later.”
He gave her a last encouraging smile en walked away.

Navril stared at Morganne in shock.
“An Elf?? How…??”
Morganne shrugged. “You could say he comforted me, but I’ll tell you more about it later. Come, tell me everything that happened outside! I want to hear every detail …”
“Well…”
“Navril, girl, there you are ?!” the voice of Lomarte , the cook, shouted.
“Come on, we don’t have all day. All the guest will be here in a few moments time and we can’t have them waiting for their food now can we!”
Navril gave Morganne an apologetic look. “Sorry, an other time perhaps? I’ll see you after the feast…”
“I’m not eating with you?”
Navril laughed merrily: “No, tonight you are one of the guests.”
“But…”
“I’m sorry, I really have to go. See you later!” and with that Navril disappeared in the corridors.

At that moment the first guests started to come in. Morganne pressed herself against the cold stone wall so she wouldn’t be noticed. At once, she recognized the white figure of Mithrandir who had led the troops of Gondor after the mental breakdown of Lord Denethor. He was talking to a man, who she immediately identified as the new king. The regal way he walked, his presence, all this showed his high decent.
Yes, she knew in an instant, King Elessar would be a good King.
Suddenly she noticed that he was leading someone by his arm. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw the woman. Her dark beautiful adorned hair contrasted magnificently with her pale delicate skin and despite her fairly simple light green garment she radiated an extraordinary beauty.

Morganne now understood why they had placed an extra seat; Gondor not only had a new King but a new Queen as well.
Great was her amazement when she saw that King Elessar’s chosen one was indeed an Elf. So the rumours had been true…
To Morganne’s fright the She-Elf suddenly turned and her bright gaze stared directly in the girls’. Morganne’s heart skipped a beat. For a moment she saw a deep sorrow in the Queens eyes but it disappeared so fast that Morganne doubted if she had seen it correctly. The Queen nodded gently to her, and she could only nod back. She felt that something significant had happened, but it would be several years before she would understand the deep meaning of it.
Quickly Morganne turned and walked away.

Only some time later, when a lot more people were present, Morganne had enough courage to go back into the room. Now she wouldn’t stand out. Confused she walked to the spot where she would be singing. She stopped when she saw a young boy carefully touching her harp with his small hand. She smiled and walked up to him.
“If you’d like, I will teach you how to play it later.”
The boy jumped at the sound of her voice and turned to face her. It was only then that Morganne noticed that he wasn’t a child at all, but one of the Half-lings.
A friendly face with two large green eyes stared at her.
“I’ve never seen an instrument like this, and I just wanted to see it up close,” he said apologetically.
Morganne laughed and asked:
“Can you sing?”
The Half-ling nodded.
“Then I’ll teach you a couple of tunes before I leave tomorrow.”
His face lit up.
“I’m Morganne,” and she stretched out her hand
“Pergrin, but everybody calls me pippin,” and he took her hand.
“Ah, pip, I should’ve known you would be here, knowing your curiosity…” A second Half-ling, a little taller then the first one, walked up to them.
“Merry, tomorrow Morganne is going to teach me a few songs!”
Merry looked at her eagerly and Morganne burst out laughing.
“Yes, of course I will teach you too.”
Merry’s dark eyes shone with pleasure. Then he said to Pippin:
“Come, Pip, it’s time to take our seats. Aragorn is about to make his speech and then we can finally eat.”
The two of them ran away. Shaking her head Morganne watched them and waited. She didn’t know exactly what she was expected to do. Navril had told her she would be sitting with the guest, but where? A bit awkward, she looked around the hall. Suddenly she saw Nemecir beckoning her. Relieved she went to him.
“Here, this seat is available.”
Gratefully she sat beside him.
When everybody was seated and quiet, King Elessar stood and spoke with a loud and clear voice:
“I bid you all welcome to this joyous day,” he looked at the beautiful woman next to him and Morganne felt the deep love they shared. “May today be the beginning of a prosperous time of happiness and peace. Long may our peoples live in harmony with each other. However, this day also belongs to those who gave their lives. We will never forget the sacrifices they made …”
A solemn silence fell. The King raised his glass. “Hail!”
All returned the greet.
King Elessar sat back and gave a sign to the servants to start serving dinner. Soon the hall was filled with the murmurs of the many conversations.
Morganne sat at one of the outer tables, in the company of a group of Elves, of whom she only knew Nemecir.
“Who is she, our new Queen?” she asked curiously.
“She is Arwen Undómiel, the Evenstar of our people, daughter of Elrond of Imladris.”
“She’s an Elf.”
Nemecir nodded.
“Isn’t that unusual? I mean for a human and an Elf to marry.”
The Elf sighed and then nodded again. “Yes, it isn’t exactly encouraged.”
“Why? Are we humans so repulsive?” Morganne had meant it as a joke, but Nemecir shook his head seriously.
“No, it’s because of the pain this bond brings with it. Men die, Elves don’t. So the Elf is faced with a terribly choice: to give up his immortality or to remain immortal, and thus spending the rest of his live in loneliness after a few years of happiness….”
Morganne looked at the beautiful Queen. “Did she…”
“Arwen Undómiel has chosen a mortal life. She won’t be able to sail into the West with her family, to the Undying Lands.”
Morganne fell silent. She shivered when she thought of the pain and sorrow this choice must have brought. She was glad that she, as a Human, never would have to face it.
She decided to change the subject and soon they were talking of every-day things. Despite their different backgrounds and age, it became clear for both of them that they had a lot in common and with regret Morganne rose after the end of the meal, to do finally what she was asked to do.
Awkwardly she went to her harp. King Elessar saw her and asked the hall for silence. Then he spoke: “My friends, we have in our midst a special guest. This young woman is know throughout Gondor and beyond for her extraordinary musical talent.” The compliment made Morganne blush. “I’m very honoured that she will sing for us tonight. My lady …” and he bid Morganne to start.
It fell so silent that you could hear a pin drop. Morganne felt how a hundred pair of eyes stared at her in anticipation. She took a deep breath, softly stroking the familiar cords, and then she started.

***

Legolas Greenleaf listened in wonder to the young woman. He had heard many persons sing in his long life, but only a few had been able to move him this way. And she wasn’t an Elf? His eyes scanned her figure. No, she was clearly human. She was beautiful, but not according to Elf standards: her dark hair ran in wild curls over her shoulders, her lips were too full and her face was maybe a bit too round. She was tall but not as slender as most Elves.
And yet, she had an exquisite voice, and the movement of her hands over the cords of that strange instrument, gave her a certain elegance and sensuality. It was breathtaking to see how she gave herself completely to the melody, with her eyes closed. He had to admit that with her talent she surpassed the singing skills of many Elves.

***

When Morganne finished her last song, she opened her eyes and looked up. She startled when she gazed directly in two bright blue eyes. Before she could react, they were gone. She didn’t even had the time to see to who they belonged.
Nevertheless, she felt a strange feeling come over her and for the second time that night she knew something significant had happened.
------------------------------------------------------------------

Printed from Open Scrolls Archive (https://www.openscrolls.net) on Sat Nov 14, 2026 8:15 pm