At the Mercy of a Burning Coal

Disclaimer; I don’t ownz Tolkien’z characterz. I only ownz Lathwen, Lily, Eothain, and the otherz that Tolkien never mentionedz.
Note: Virus is gone finally. I worked my butt off to get you guys this. Please review!

Lathwen tentatively opened the large, heavy doors to the library. She stepped inside silently, breathing in the musty smell most libraries possess. Quietly, she glided down a few isles, wondering at the immense size of the place. Books…old, new, gilded, painted, and each was unique.

Someone cleared his throat, making Lathwen’s head whip to the side. She saw that there were a few chairs at a small table piled high with books. Sitting there were two people. One was Elrond, and the other…Eothain.

Lathwen’s lip curled in a sneer of distrust, but she forced herself to remain of neutral expression. She softly stepped over to the table, but didn’t sit. “A guest my lord?” Lord Elrond gave her a raised eyebrow, which clearly told her to know her place, and not step out of line.

“Yes Lathwen, a guest. Do sit.”
“I’d rather not, thank you all the same.”

Lord Elrond nodded his head slowly. “As you wish. Lathwen, as you know…this is Eothain, one of the rangers who come here more often.” Lathwen eyed Eothain suspiciously but nodded. Lord Elrond went on, “I do believe that he has the answers to some of our questions.”

Lathwen folded her arms, “Let’s get on with it then.” She said shortly. Lord Elrond raised his eyebrow in warning, and Lathwen sighed apologetically before listening to Eothain.

The ranger’s honey colored eyes flashed but he said calmly. “You never told me your true name.” Lathwen frowned impatiently, “And you knew it. You knew that the name I told you was assumed. Please…go on.”

Eothain crossed his arms and his eyes suddenly went dark with recollections. “Your father,” He began, “Thalbarad. A good strong man. A ranger. One of our finest. He fell in love and married your mother. She bore a child…you. Lathwen Alanessa. When you were but a toddler, a small wisp of a thing really…you were so delicate it seemed that a sudden strong wind would blow you away.”

Lord Elrond chuckled at his, but Lathwen said nothing. Eothain’s honey eyes met Lathwen’s stormy grey ones, “But there was a plot to dispose of the Lord Théoden, and your mother found out. A complete accident of course, she was walking to the kitchens when she took a wrong turn and wound up in a dark deserted room…but nevertheless, she found out. She swore a blood-oath not to tell, so as to keep you safe. However,” Eothain shifted, “Your father found out somehow…he mentioned a small leather bound book…but no matter…he found out, and since he hadn’t sworn any blood-oath, he was in danger…all of you were. Thalbarad knew very well that the men who were planning the assassination could easily murder you or your mother, or even he himself.”

Eothain sighed and paused for a moment or two before going on, “Your father hadn’t sworn a blood-oath for a reason…he needed to tell someone and stop the plot. Of course, he didn’t know how he would be able to stay in Edoras without he and his family being hunted down and killed if he told…so away they fled. With the help of the rangers, they sped away by night without any trouble from people or animals. Then you arrived in Bree.”

Lathwen wandered over to an empty chair and sat down in it, completely engrossed in the story. Eothain smiled a bit sadly and went on, “You father gave us a message to deliver to the lord Théoden directly, putting us in much danger he knew…but we could be trusted to do the job, and to do it well.” Eothain laughed softly.

“No one ever found out who had delivered the message, and who it was from…not even Lord Théoden. The lord trusted us…and by trusting us, he was saved from an untimely death. But as the years passed,” A haunted look crossed Eothain’s face fleetingly, but it soon passed.

“As the years passed, those involved with the ruined plot began to suspect Thalbarad. They knew that your mother was still living, so she couldn’t have told. And you were to young to understand such things. Your parents were the only ones who knew about it, except for the rangers. But the murderer’s knew that we hadn’t sent the message…we hadn’t been anywhere near Edoras when the plot was being discussed, and news couldn’t have traveled that swiftly and quietly as to overtake us.”

Lathwen interrupted, “But how did my parents die? Do you know?” Eothain sighed, “Unfortunately. Lathwen…” He paused for a moment before saying; “There are powerful curses in this world…some irreversible. No human man or woman is strong enough to bear such power…only the elves and the Maia and the Valar. It is our belief that a few elves were involved in the plot.”

“What does that have to do with—”

“Lathwen…I’m getting to that.” Lathwen fell silent. Eothain cleared his throat; “We believe that a spell, a curse was cast upon you all before you left. You all couldn’t be trusted not to tell, or at least your father couldn’t if he found out, the assassins knew…and they had to be careful. We have no doubts while you all were out in public, an elf or such cast the spell.”

“But what does that—”

“Patience child! I will tell all if you are able to sit through it!” Eothain said with a slight irritation to his tone. Lathwen clamped her mouth shut and stared at Eothain eagerly.

The weather-worn ranger sighed, “We do not know what elf or elves were involved…or where from. But obviously the curse wasn’t cast on you,” Eothain gave her a curious look, “Or you’ve found a way to override it.” Lathwen raised an eyebrow in question.

Eothain answered her silent query. “If the curse was cast on you, or if it had been and you were still dominated by it…you would be dead, along with your parents. And before you ask, yes, I know why.” Eothain said quickly, holding up a hand to still her questions.

“That curse was somewhat hard to cast obviously…with people around, there were to many witnesses. So they had to find a deadly curse that would work quickly and without any apparent change anywhere when it was cast.” Eothain was silent for many more minutes, thoughtful and brooding.

Lathwen was beginning to become impatient when Lord Elrond took over. “The Mori Fea Curse…I don’t suppose you’ve heard of it?” Lathwen shook her head in confusion.

Lord Elrond went on, “This curse is particularly easy and effective. Once cast…the hosts will wither…languish and die a slow painful death. Though they try, they cannot overcome the sudden weakness. At the point of death, they see all of their regrets and fears along with war and suffering. They die of horror and fear.”

Lathwen’s breath grew short and her face, pale. Of course. Her father, a blacksmith, though good at his job was only trying to overcome the weakness. Her mother, as accepting as always, barely had the strength to do needlepoint…and didn’t try to fend off the curse.

Off in the distance, Lathwen faintly heard a voice say, “Lathwen? Are you faring well?”

Lathwen nodded silently, but beads of sweat gathered on her forehead. Of course…now she remembered…

~~~
Lathwen was near the creek, letting her feet dangle over the side and dip into the cool water. She fanned herself with her stained apron. She was hot…it was a shame she was a girl and she had to be ladylike. If she were a boy, she would be able to wade into the deep part of the creek and splash in the sparkling water to stay cool.

A sudden, sharp stabbing pain entered her chest. It was like ice, yet like fire, burning and freezing her torso until it reached her head. Lathwen shrieked as the pains stabbed her head twice more, causing a migraine. She clutched her temples and hunched down, hoping to wait the pain out. She didn’t have to wait long though…as soon as the pains came, they diminished.

Lathwen sat up straight, gasping for breath as she pushed the stray strands of hair from her braid off of her sweaty forehead. She went home quickly, questioning her mother and father about these pains. Oddly enough, once she asked, her father and mother’s faces became impassive and they refused to answer her questions.

Late that night, Lathwen had heard her mother weeping her heart out. “My child…my poor child!” She said between sobs. Frightened, Lathwen had hunkered down under the covers and stayed there, shivering.

The sudden attacks happened once each year…each on the summer solstice, her begetting day. And each time she told her parents, her mother would end up weeping and crying when she thought Lathwen was asleep, and her father would be whispering reassurances, though his voice was trembling to.

She had never understood….

~~~
Lathwen blinked and came back into the present with a start. Lord Elrond and Eothain were staring at her with odd expressions on her face. Lathwen blushed and apologized, “I’m sorry…I…I was just remembering…” Lord Elrond’s face softened and he said tenderly, as a father would to his daughter, “It is of no matter. There is no shame in remembering.”

Lathwen nodded, “Please, my lord…go on.” Elrond nodded and said, “The time of death varies…depending on how strong the person is. You parents died at the same time on the same day…highly unusual.”

Lathwen frowned, “How so?”

Lord Elrond answered, “Usually, it would be called a mere coincidence…but we know better in this case. Something held them and the curse away from each other for eleven years, something held them in balance until their time of death…which resulted in their death being simultaneous, because the balance was no longer their for one reason or another.”

Lathwen asked, “What is the balance?” Elrond sighed and answered, “We can only guess, but we suspect that it was you.” Lathwen gasped, “I did not cause my parents death!”

Lord Elrond looked at her sharply, “I did not imply that you did so. Being of your parents blood Lathwen, you were connected to them in more ways than one. I’ve eliminated the possibility of your not being cursed because to be the balance, you must also carry the curse.”

Lathwen digested the information and Elrond went on, “Perhaps being of both mortal and immortal blood caused the curse to have no effect on you. That being the case, since you are tied to your parents, your immunity added to their strength, adding to *their* ability to be immune to the curse. However, all your immunity did was to lengthen their period of life…it did not throw off the curse completely.”

Eothain bowed his head, and only then did Lathwen realize the depth of his grief. And regret.

Lord Elrond cast the ranger a pitying look before saying, “Since you are the balance…something pertaining to you must have been out of balance or thrown off completely.”

Lathwen looked at Elrond curiously. The lord went on, “You, Lathwen, had managed to cast off the curse one way or another. And I mean cast it off completely…you weren’t carrying the curse inside of you anymore. Before you cast it off you were immune, yet you still carried it.”

Lathwen nodded, a troubled look on her face. “How did this contribute to my parents death?”

The elf lord winced slightly and sighed, “Lathwen…since you cast the curse off, your immunity was no longer needed. You immunity died away, along with your parent’s strength. You see…your immunity alone kept them living for longer than they would have normally lived without the immunity. So the moment you were no longer immune…they passed instantly.”

Lathwen felt a sob choke her throat.

“I was the balance. I kept the horror and fear back with my immunity because of being of both mortal and immortal blood. Once I threw off the curse, my immunity was no longer needed and died away, leaving my parents weak and so they died. Is that what you are saying my lord?”

Lord Elrond nodded gravely, “Though I wish I were saying differently Lathwen,” He said, “that is the truth. That is what I’m telling you.”

Lathwen swallowed hard, pushing back her emotions. She rose, full of questions, but not daring to utter them. She looked at Eothain and Lord Elrond, both of whom were watching here with unerring eyes.

“Thank you my lords. This explains much to me, and puts my heart at rest. I appreciate this very much.” Lathwen curtsied and upon rising said to the ranger, “I am sorry I ever doubted your loyalty Eothain. Truly I am.”

The ranger smiled, softly and sadly, “I understand.”

Lathwen smiled at him, an apologetic smile, and walked out of the library with a heavy heart.