Lindariel: Visions from the Hall of Fire

A place to post and discuss your own Tolkien inspired art and poetry.
marbretherese
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Postby marbretherese » Sun Mar 22, 2009 7:20 pm

I'm really enjoying this, Lindariel, I just love the way you've fleshed out some of the characters in the background of LoTR, invented others, and kept Elrond at the calm centre. "he began to see a shimmering web as the individual voices from his choir wove their intricate strands of melody in a bright cascade of visible sound" made me think of the Music of the Ainur!
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Iolanthe
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Postby Iolanthe » Wed Mar 25, 2009 8:27 pm

Finally caught up!

Yes, post part 5 in sequence, Lindariel and then part 6. I want to read it again anyway and so will everyone else so let's have it where it belongs.

I'm so loving this (especially as a singer :wink: ). I love the idea that singing has a spiritual power, invoking visions, moving trees.... you really have to finish the whole thing from where you left off all that time ago!
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Now let the song begin! Let us sing together
Of sun, stars, moon and mist, rain and cloudy weather...

Lindariel
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Location: The Hall of Fire, Imladris (otherwise known as Northern Virginia)

Postby Lindariel » Thu Mar 26, 2009 1:52 am

As requested by Iolanthe, here is installment # 5, which was posted earlier with the description of the Hall of Fire, followed by installment #6.



A New Home

Lindariel could not help gaping in wonder as she walked through the hallways and courtyards of Imladris at Lord Elrond's side with Estel bounding ahead to point out the next "favorite" place they were to encounter and bounding back to gauge her reaction. At every turn, there were wonderful rooms adorned with rich fabrics and tapestries, paintings and stonework, intricately carved furniture, and planters full of ferns and mosses, herbs and flowers. There were shelves full of books and scrolls, statues of ancient warriors and beautiful ladies, brightly burning hearths with piles of cushions for reading or writing or storytelling or sleeping or just thinking. There were courtyards and gardens, arbors and hothouses, pergolas and pavilions and amphitheatres.

Thranduil's court had been a place of great luxury and constant merry-making, full of light and song, dancing and jesting, clever verse and intricate games. But Imladris was a haven of learning and an altar to memory, where thoughts ran deeper, pleasures were more satisfying and longer-lasting, and where the spirit was nurtured.

But the most wondrous place of all was the great vaulted room that Estel named the Hall of Fire in a voice filled with awe and reverence and great wonder and delight. Both sides of the long hallway were lined with large fireplaces, each with a dais for singers, musicians, or poets and concentric rings of stone steps where listeners could sit or students could be instructed.

Down the center of the room ran a series of pools and fountains. As Lindariel raised her eyes to the ceiling at Estel's direction, she gasped to see that over the pools the roof was open to the skies to admit the breezes of Manwë and the radiant light of the stars of Elbereth. When it rained, the music of the raindrops tinkling into the pools added to the glory of the music and poetry within the Hall. At the end of the Hall was the Great Hearth, where the Master and his family would sit for more formal performances and where contests and trials were conducted among the apprentice and journeyman students.

Throughout the Hall, at the different hearths, groups of harpists, lutenists, poets, and singers of various ages were gathered for daily lessons and exercises with their masters. Elrond quietly explained to Lindariel the meaning of the different colors the students wore: blue for apprentices, green for journeymen, burgundy for masters, and at the end of the room at the Great Hearth was a tall, brown-haired elf in a rich purple robe -- Amarthalion, the Chief Bard of Imladris.

He looked up from his seat at the Great Hearth and smiled with pleasure as Elrond approached with the delightful boy Estel and the newest apprentice to the Hall of Fire. He bowed briefly to Master of Imladris and then knelt to greet the two children and take Lindariel's hands in his. "Welcome, my dear Lindariel, to the Hall of Fire. This is the place where we celebrate the miracles of music and poetry, where we perfect our voices and learn to play wonderful instruments, to discover the songs within us, and to travel the Far Plain in search of knowledge and to worship the Valar. I have heard you sing, and your beautiful voice is a great gift that should be cherished and developed to its full glory. Would you like to come study with us?"

Lindariel looked from Master Amarthalion's expectant face to Estel's beaming, nodding grin, and finally to Lord Elrond's kind, familiar eyes. Elrond knelt also and laid his hands on her shoulders. "We will see each other every day, my dear, for in all Imladris, this is my favorite place. And Estel comes here often as well to learn songs and hear stories; I believe he has even managed to learn a few tunes on the flute, haven't you, my son?"

Estel blushed and bobbed his head, "I will come even more often if you're here, Lindariel. And when you're finished with your lessons, we can go play in the arbor and make boats and kites and help the cooks chase rabbits out of the vegetable gardens." The two Masters laughed readily at the boy's generous enthusiasm, and Amarthalion squeezed Lindariel's hands gently as he asked, "What say you, my dear? Would you like to meet your classmates?"

Lindariel's cheeks turned as rosy as her hair, but she nodded and whispered, "Yes, I would like that very much," and Amarthalion stood with a satisfied nod to Lord Elrond and led Lindariel over to the youngest group of apprentices.



A New Home -- Part II

Calabor was rapidly beginning to lose the capacity to contain his amusement as he watched Mírwen arranging and rearranging the pillows on their soon-to-be-foster-child's bed for what had to be at least the tenth time. He finished adjusting the position of the new chest he had just completed the night before and crossed the room to envelop his nervous wife in his arms. "The room is beautiful, my dear," he murmured, planting a soft kiss on her neck, and she turned to give him a fierce hug, tears in her eyes.

"I just can't believe there will at last be a child in our house," she whispered. "I know," he answered, "I'm excited as well. But we must be calm, Mírwen, my angel, and let her come to us. If we are overeager, she may retreat, and she has been through so much unhappiness. You've created a warm and restful haven for her. Let that be enough for now. The rest will take time."

Mírwen laughed and quickly dashed the tears from her eyes. "I should prepare something to eat. So much is happening today, and she's bound to be hungry." Calabor smiled, realizing that activity was probably the best tonic for Mírwen's nerves at this time, "Some of your honeycakes should do the trick. You start baking, and I will bring in the little table and chair I made to go by the window seat."

The wonderful aroma of Mírwen's confections was just filling the little house, when Elrond and Estel arrived to introduce Lindariel to her foster parents and her new home. Her mind was still awhirl with the names of the apprentices in her new class (all much older than she), the lesson she had just observed with Mistress Glorfiniel, and the extraordinary grandeur of the Hall of Fire. It was a relief to see the small house with the pretty flowers at the windows and to breathe in the familiar smell of something good baking in the kitchen.

A pretty elf woman with chestnut hair and dark sparkling blue eyes met them at the door and bowed respectfully, "My Lord Elrond, we are honored to welcome you to our home." He was about to return her courtesy when Estel suddenly hugged Mírwen about the waist and blurted out, "Mírwen, you made honeycakes! Come quickly, Lindariel! Mírwen makes the best honeycakes in all of Rivendell, and I'm starved!" And grasping Lindariel by the hand, he made a beeline for the kitchen.

With a merry laugh, Elrond whispered into Mírwen's ear, "I don't believe you could have asked for a better introduction!" Together they followed the children into the kitchen, where Calabor was already serving up plates of honeycakes and pouring cups of fresh milk for the entire group.

"Singing must be hungry work!" Calabor exclaimed, as Estel set to with a honeycake in one hand and a cup in the other, and Lindariel shyly began to nibble as well. "Oh, we only listened today, but we have walked all over Imladris this morning to show Lindariel all of my favorite places, and walking is definitely hungry work," Estel explained between bites.

Then he looked from Lindariel back to Calabor and Mírwen's expectant faces and Elrond's amused grin and quickly turned to his friend, "Oh, Lindariel, this is Calabor; he's Mírwen's husband, and he makes wonderful things out of wood. Let me see . . . . Oh, he made the pretty table in the infirmary, the one with the water pitcher on it, and he made that nice chair that Mother sits in by the hearth. And you met Mírwen at the door; she's a singer in the Hall of Fire and the chorus mistress. They're both my friends, and I come here a lot."

Mírwen smiled kindly and said, "We're very glad to meet you, Lindariel. Would you like another honeycake?" Lindariel bobbed her head eagerly and replied, "Yes, please. They're very good." Calabor handed the platter to his wife and said, "Well, you shall have as many as you like, then. Sounds like you've had a busy morning. What did you like best?"

Lindariel thought for a moment as she chewed and then replied, "I liked many things, but I believe I liked the big fountain in the center of the Hall of Fire best; it makes such beautiful music all by itself. And when you stand by it, you can feel the breeze and look up and see the clouds or the stars, and all around is the music of the water. Yes, I liked that best."

"Rivendell is full of the sound of water, isn't it?" asked Mírwen, as she took the empty seat beside Lindariel. "Everywhere you look, there are little streams, pools, and fountains, and when you gaze in the distance up the sides of the ravine, there are rivers and waterfalls in every direction, filling the valley with Ulmo's music. We are blessed to be here."

"I recall the day I first set foot in this valley," Master Elrond added thoughtfully. "I knew immediately that this would be my home. Every tree and rock and brook spoke to me that this was a place of refuge and contemplation, and I could see in my mind's eye the great hall that would be a beacon and haven for artists and musicians and poets. It pleases me greatly to know that you are happy here."

Then he turned to Lindariel, and she instantly gave him her full attention. "My little one, I have asked Mírwen and Calabor if they would be willing to become your foster parents, and they have spent the last several days getting their home ready for you." Mírwen smiled encouragingly, "We would be so happy to have you come live with us, Lindariel. We've prepared a bedroom just for you. Would you like to see it?"

Lindariel looked to Elrond for reassurance, and he smiled, "Why don't we all go? I am certainly curious to see what you have done, and Estel appears to have finished the last of the cakes!" The boy slurped down a final gulp of milk, wiped his mouth on his sleeve, and declared, "Yes, let's go see!"

Lindariel accepted Mírwen's outstretched hand and walked with her down the short hallway and into the cheerful bedroom. Estel immediately settled on the floor in front of the chest and exclaimed, "This is new!" as he ran his hands appreciatively over the carved relief across the front of the beautiful piece. Calabor beamed, "Yes, I just finished it last night, as well as the table and chair by the window."

Lindariel softly stroked the pretty coverlet on the bed, and then was drawn to the windowseat by the sound of tinkling water. "A fountain!" she exclaimed, as she looked out into the garden behind the little house, "You have a fountain!"

"Yes, we do," said Mírwen, as she joined the child at the window. "A little fountain so there will always be fresh water for the songbirds and the music of Ulmo coming through the window."

Lindariel turned to take in the pretty little room, as quiet tears began to slide from her eyes, and she covered her face with a sob. Mírwen looked to Master Elrond for guidance, but he simply placed a quieting hand on Estel's shoulder to keep him from rushing to his friend's side and nodded for Mírwen to take charge.

The pretty singer placed a gentle hand on the top of Lindariel's head and said quietly, "You must be very tired, my dear. Why don't we let you lie down for a while and have some peace and quiet?"

To her great surprise, Lindariel reached up to put her arms around Mírwen's neck and allow the elf woman to carry her over to her bed, as the Master quietly escorted Estel and Calabor from the room.
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Lindariel Image

“Therefore I say: Eä! Let these things Be! And I will send forth into the Void the Flame Imperishable, and it shall be at the heart of the World, and the World shall Be.”

Lindariel
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Location: The Hall of Fire, Imladris (otherwise known as Northern Virginia)

Postby Lindariel » Thu Mar 26, 2009 10:06 am

Iolanthe wrote:I'm so loving this (especially as a singer :wink: ). I love the idea that singing has a spiritual power, invoking visions, moving trees.... you really have to finish the whole thing from where you left off all that time ago!


I'm glad you like it, especially as a singer! Much of what I have done with this story is inspired by Tolkien's concept of the Music of the Ainur and how this music essentially created and shaped the history of the world. The Music was the vision, and as we live our lives it is being implemented. But Arda is Marred by the malevolence of Melkor/Morgoth. Woven within the strains of the Music are the unexpected themes that Eru Iluvatar interjected himself, as well as melodies of the other Ainur sung to try to counteract Melkor/Morgoth's malice. One of those little melodies has to do with the emergence from time to time of powerful singers/bards among the Children of Iluvatar, such as Maglor, Daeron, Luthien, Finrod Felagund -- and in this story you are meeting Amarthalion and Lindariel, among others.

Some of those singers are especially gifted and have particular destinies before them -- they are the Fealindar, the Spirit Singers. The last known Fealindar was Luthien Tinuviel, a singer so powerful that she bested Sauron (not even Finrod could do that), cast down his tower to rescue Beren, bewitched Carcharoth, and sang Morgoth to sleep so that Beren could take one of the Silmarils.

Is Lindariel one of the Fealindar? What destiny awaits her?
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“Therefore I say: Eä! Let these things Be! And I will send forth into the Void the Flame Imperishable, and it shall be at the heart of the World, and the World shall Be.”

Iolanthe
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Postby Iolanthe » Thu Mar 26, 2009 10:33 am

So much to enjoy here today :D ! Lindariel's story first....

How wonderful to weave a complete tale about the elvish singers - I hadn't pulled those strands together in my head: the Music of the Ainur (one of my favourite bits of Tolkien's writing), Luthien's singing Melkor to sleep and Finrod Felagund striving with 'songs of power'.

I like the comparison you make between Thranduil's court and Elrond's home, and Elrond's reasons for chosing Rivendell as his home. Can't wait for more.

Now for Riv's drawing :D . I would LOVE to work there - it would make an excellent painting corner too with all those skylights. It's a great idea to bring the Hall down to a corner that viewers can move themselves into rather than the whole Hall in which everything gets lost. We can see ourselves in all the pictures in the series - knocking on the doors, looking out the windows, getting our pens out and writing. I'm looking forward to seeing the whole thing complete!
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Now let the song begin! Let us sing together
Of sun, stars, moon and mist, rain and cloudy weather...

Lindariel
Posts: 1062
Joined: Fri Sep 23, 2005 8:30 pm
Location: The Hall of Fire, Imladris (otherwise known as Northern Virginia)

Postby Lindariel » Fri Mar 27, 2009 5:07 pm

For your weekend reading -- here's installment #7! The lovely song Lindariel sings here is, of course, not my work, but a creation of Professor Tolkien's called the Markirya Poem. For more information about this beautiful work, pleased visit the Tolkien Poetry thread.


Mithrandir

"Lindariel! Lindariel, come quick! He's here!" Estel bounded into Mírwen's kitchen and skidded to a stop before plopping into a chair and happily accepting a second breakfast from the grinning singer. In five years, the boy was already more than a head taller than when Lindariel first met him, gangly and coltish, but showing clear signs that he would surely grow to be a very tall and powerful man. Both Gilraen and Mírwen despaired of keeping him fed, as his appetite appeared to know no bounds. And he and Lindariel were virtually inseparable.

"Who is here?" Lindariel asked, instantly absorbing her friend's excitement. "Mithrandir! The Grey Pilgrim!" Estel blurted between bites, and Mírwen clapped her hands in delight. "Oh! There will be such singing in the Hall of Fire tonight!" she enthused, "and Mithrandir will transport us with his dancing lights and fireworks and tricks with smoke."

"Not only that," said Estel. "Mithrandir knows things. He is a Wizard, who travels all over Arda and speaks with men in great far off cities and brings back news of strange places and people. I've never met him; I've only heard talk of him from some of the older elves. They say he has twice entered Dol Guldur and lived to tell the tale! I can't wait to see him! Hurry! He's speaking with Master Elrond right now!"

"Patience!" Mírwen cautioned. "If Mithrandir is meeting privately with Lord Elrond, then they are surely discussing great and weighty matters and should not be disturbed by curious children. Besides, Lindariel must go for her lessons with Mistress Glorfiniel this morning, and then I believe the two of you promised to help me with the garden this afternoon?"

She smiled at the two disappointed faces and relented somewhat, "Oh, very well. The garden can wait, but Lindariel must not be late for her lessons, and you are not to trouble Lord Elrond and Mithrandir. There will be time enough to see the Wizard this evening in the Hall of Fire."

The children rushed to finish their respective breakfasts and give Mírwen quick kisses goodbye. Estel skidded to a quick stop by the fruit bowl on his way out and snagged an apple before scampering down the garden path after Lindariel. Once they were out of sight of the kitchen door, the two crept through a small hole in the hedge to check on their private accumulation of "treasures": several sheets of fine-woven discarded cheesecloth, an assortment of candle nubs, bits of string, a collection of smooth brightly colored pebbles, and their prized possession -- a crudely fashioned slingshot made out of one of Mírwen's springy hairnets strung across the yoke of a short green alder branch.

Having made certain that their secret cache was undisturbed, the two children started off on their usual route -- a short cut across the herb garden, through the main kitchens, past the library, and down the hall towards Master Elrond's study in order to get Lindariel to the Hall of Fire on time.

"Do you really think it will work?" asked Lindariel in a breathless whisper. "Well, we'll have to try it out this afternoon," said Estel. "But don't you worry. If it doesn't, we'll find some other way to put Dorion in his place. I'm tired of the way he picks on you."

He looked down at his little friend's face. Although he had grown a great deal, Lindariel didn't seem much bigger than when she had arrived. "You know, you're loads smarter than he is, don't you, even though he's ten years older? And he's picking on you because he's jealous, and that really makes me mad!"

Lindariel patted his cheek. "Just don't get yourself in trouble," she said. "Mistress Glorfiniel watches out for me, when she can. She just can't be everywhere at once. Mírwen has scolded him, but that just made him more sneaky. She says that I have to find some way to stand up to him, and then he'll stop."

Estel blurted angrily, "But you're so little! It just isn't fair! And I want him to know that if he doesn't stop, I will find some way to really make him pay! No one hurts my friends!"

They were making a last dash down the hall that led past Master Elrond's study to the Hall of Fire, when a tall figure in a great grey cloak emerged only to find two children suddenly tangled within its deep folds. "Ooof!" grunted the large stranger, as he staggered to maintain his balance and extricate the trespassers from his garments. "Well!" called out a gruff but merry voice high above them, "Just who do we have here?"

The children looked up into a pair of sparkling blue eyes surrounded by great bushy grey eyebrows, above a strong, largish nose, all encompassed by long, shaggy grey hair and a great white beard. From behind this impressive figure came the amused voice of Lord Elrond who peeked around his guest and said, "Ahhh! This would be my foster son Estel, son of Gilraen and the late Arathorn of the Dunedain. And this young lady is Lindariel, daughter of the late Lindion and Camthilia of Mirkwood, who is being fostered in the Hall of Fire by Mírwen and Calabor. Children this is the Wizard Mithrandir, my good friend and an honored guest here in Imladris. I was about to show him the new work in my library and then begin making the round of introductions, but perhaps we should begin here with the youngest members of my household."

"That would be delightful, Master Elrond!" said the friendly old man. "Here, why don't we make our way to the library, where there will be more room for all of us to sit and have a chat?" And to their great astonishment and delight, the wizard took them each by the hand and led the way to the library, obviously quite well acquainted with the ways of Imladris.

They had no sooner seated themselves in a comfy window seat with two chairs for the older gentlemen than Lindariel jumped to her feet with a disappointed cry, "Oh, no! I was on my way to lessons with Mistress Glorfiniel! I . . . I should really go . . ." Lord Elrond laughed and assured her, "I shall speak with Mistress Glorfiniel, have no fear! This is an important occasion, and she will surely understand."

"And just what are you studying in your lessons, young Lindariel?" inquired the Wizard. When she paused to gather her thoughts, Estel blurted out proudly, "Lindariel is the best student in the first apprentice class, even though she is the youngest, and sometimes magic things happen when she sings!"

"Indeed!" murmured the old man, "And I would imagine that some of her classmates might be just a little jealous of her talent. Would that be who you feel needs to be made to pay, young Estel?"

The boy swallowed, turned just a bit white, but responded forthrightly, "Oh, yes indeed, Master Mithrandir! It isn't fair for Dorion to tease her and make her feel bad because he feels shown up by someone so much younger! If he paid better attention in class, he wouldn't make so many mistakes. And he's even bigger than me, and it just isn't fair!"

"Well, well, Lindariel, it sounds as though this young man has decided to be your champion!" said Mithrandir, in a most respectful tone. "Young man, as you take up this challenge, might I give you a few words of advice?" Estel nodded eagerly and leaned forward. "Bullies are generally all talk and bluster, but when it comes to the pinch, they have very little bite. You might do best to help Lindariel find a way to stand up to this Dorion pest herself. If you try to fight her battles for her, the pest will only continue to hurt her behind your back."

He then turned to Lindariel. "You are very lucky to have such a true and loyal friend as Estel. I think a smart young lady like you might be able to find a way to take the air right out of Dorion's sails. Think of how small and pathetic he must be inside if the only way he can make himself feel good is to try to make you feel bad. If you look at it that way, how can he ever hurt your feelings again?"

Lindariel smiled politely, but looked down at her shoes. Estel interjected, "He picks on her by telling her that her parents were working class artisans from Thranduil's court and that she has no business studying with those of royal blood, like him." Lindariel added, "I wouldn't mind if he said bad things about me, but he says bad things about Ada and Naneth, who are with Mandos!"

Mithrandir frowned, "How unfortunate to learn that one of royal blood has such dreadfully bad manners and such an unfeeling heart! Why I pity him even more! He must be a very lost soul to resort to such weak attempts at insults." He then took Lindariel's hands in his, "My dear, surely you know that talent and self-worth have nothing to do with whether one is royally born or not. As Dorion has already demonstrated, one may be royally born and still be an talentless ass! Have pity on him, my dear! I guarantee you, he won't know what to do with himself in the face of pity!"

Lindariel looked gratefully up into the old man's face and at once became lost in his kind, sparkling blue eyes. She gazed into their depths, only to discover that it seemed they had no end, and that beyond the great swell of blue, there was a crystal curtain of mist, and then the beautiful sparkling white shores of a fair green island.

Mithrandir stared into the child's swirling crystal blue eyes as she began to sing in a rich, clear voice:

Who shall see a white ship
leave the last shore,
the pale phantoms
in her cold bosom
like gulls wailing?

Who shall heed a white ship,
vague as a butterfly,
in the flowing sea
on wings like stars,
the sea surging,
the foam blowing,
the wings shining,
the light fading?

Who shall hear the wind roaring
like leaves of forests;
the white rocks snarling
in the moon gleaming,
in the moon waning,
in the moon falling,
the storm mumbling,
the abyss moving?

Who shall see the clouds gather,
the heavens bending
upon crumbling hills,
the sea heaving,
the abyss yawning,
the old darkness
beyond the stars
falling
upon fallen towers?
Who shall see the last evening?


As the final strains of her beautiful rendition of Markirya's great prophecy faded, Mithrandir passed his hands across her face and murmured, "Come back from the Far Plain, child! Those shores do not yet call you! Come back!"

The swirling depths of her eyes steadied, and Lindariel suddenly shook her head as though waking from a daydream. "My Lord Olórin! Did Nienna truly sing for my parents?" she asked through the sparkling tears that gathered on her lashes.

"Yes, indeed," he said softly, unfazed by her use of his lesser known name, "as she sings and laments for all those whose lives are claimed before their time and for the grief of their loved ones who are sundered from them without warning."

He raised her gently into his lap and rested her cheek against his shoulder as she came to terms with her tears. Elrond put an arm around a gaping Estel's shoulders and said, "Why don't you take Lindariel home and let her rest now. She has performed a beautiful piece for Lord Mithrandir, but it carried her far away from herself, and she needs to rest so that she will be able to enjoy the music and lights in the Hall of Fire this evening."

"Yes, indeed," said Mithrandir jovially. "I have some truly spectacular fireworks planned, and something really special for the end of the Lay of Eärendil. Now, you wouldn't want to miss that, would you?" Lindariel shook her head and smiled. "Are you feeling a bit better now?" he continued, and as she nodded, he declared, "Excellent. Estel, as Lady Lindariel's champion, you are charged with escorting her safely back to her home and then safely to the concert this evening. I shall be looking for you both!"

After the children exited the room, smiling and more than a bit bedazzled by the old wizard, Mithrandir leaned forward and clasped Lord Elrond by the arm. "You are right to be worried about her, my old friend. Her gifts are prodigious, and for her, the veil that masks the Far Plain is very, very thin. She practically fell into my eyes and saw a vision of the Blessed Realm and heard my true name within me."

"How do we guide her?" asked the Master urgently. "Amarthalion says she already has been visited by visions calling her to some quest. He has sought the Far Plain for answers, but her future is veiled. How do we prepare her for the task that awaits her?"

"I cannot tell you, my friend, for her path is hidden even from me. I see her descending into great darkness in which she may be utterly lost or from which she may return in great glory and joy. Cherish her in love and strengthen her spirit as best you can! When in doubt, the way of love and pity is always the best answer."


******

And yes, I did indeed introduce Gandalf into this story with the undignified word, "Ooof!" Planned it that way most deliberately!
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“Therefore I say: Eä! Let these things Be! And I will send forth into the Void the Flame Imperishable, and it shall be at the heart of the World, and the World shall Be.”

Lindariel
Posts: 1062
Joined: Fri Sep 23, 2005 8:30 pm
Location: The Hall of Fire, Imladris (otherwise known as Northern Virginia)

Postby Lindariel » Mon Mar 30, 2009 1:25 pm

Tricks and Treats

Lindariel ran into the washroom, fingers flying to quickly undo the ties on her brand new overdress and place it in a basin of soapy water. She scrubbed and scrubbed -- angry, frustrated, helpless tears building up in her eyes -- but the large ink stain did nothing but spread and spread. The beautiful blue velvet overdress Mírwen had spent days making and embroidering for her was ruined! She dropped down onto the stone floor and wept in pain and outrage. How dare he do this?!?

A prim little hand tapped gently on the door, and Mistress Glorfiniel's curly blonde head peeked in as she inquired kindly, "What is the matter, Lindariel, dear? Are you unwell?" Then, seeing the child's tears, she quickly entered and knelt down on the floor beside her. "Whatever is wrong?" she asked in sudden concern.

Lindariel motioned up to the ruined dress, and Mistress Glorfiniel exclaimed, "Oh! What a shame! Such a pretty dress! I'm so sorry, dear, I know you must be so disappointed to have spilt ink on it!"

"I didn't spill the ink!" Lindariel blurted through her clenched teeth as she tried to calm her angry sobs, "It was dumped in my lap by someone who doesn't care how many sets of beautiful clothes he ruins because there will always be more!"

Mistress Glorfiniel sighed in exasperation, "Dorion! And I didn't see it happen, and he will deny it, of course! I will speak with Master Amarthalion immediately; something must be done, even if there are no witnesses. This has to stop!"

She helped Lindariel to her feet, and together they wrung the soapy water from the ruined dress and rolled it up for Lindariel to take home. As she made her way through the main kitchens, Lindariel spied Estel in the herb garden, helping Aldedhel the apothecary to set out some new plants. He took one look at her furious, tear-stained face, and begged leave of his herb master to go help his friend, who was clearly in distress.

"What did he do this time?" Estel asked, knowing there could only be one reason for Lindariel's anger. She stopped abruptly at the little bench beside the garden wall and laid out the ruined dress for his inspection. Then, she sat down and began crying anew.

"Why did I wear it to class? Why didn't I save it for the concert tonight? Mírwen said that many strange guests arrived late last night after we were in bed, and they are to be feasted and honored in the Hall of Fire this evening. But it was so pretty, and I just wanted to wear it right away! Why does he have to be so mean?! I tried pity, as Mithrandir said, and it worked for a while, because it took him completely by surprise. But now he just seems bent on destroying everything I own!" she sobbed.

Estel threw his arms around her shoulders and patted her awkwardly, casting about for some way to wreak quick and appropriate vengeance on the spoiled elven brat who had hurt his friend for the last time. "I know!" he exclaimed suddenly. "I know what we'll do! We can't fix your dress, I'm sorry to say. Besides, you're so pretty, you could wear an old sack and still look like a princess! But we can fix it so master Dorion can't attend the festivities tonight, and it will serve him right!"

He whispered urgently into her ear, and as the plot grew, her tears quickly dried on her face to be replaced by sheer wonder at the brilliance of his plan. "Now quickly," he said. "Let's take your dress back to Mírwen. I'm sure she can save some of this beautiful velvet and embroidery and make something equally wonderful from it, like a capelet or . . . something else you ladies like to wear! And then, we have work to do!"

**********

Elrond looked up from the scroll he was studying and greeted his tall sons with pleasure. "Ah! I am very, very glad that your patrol returned as expected! We have special guests with us for the next fortnight. Mithrandir has returned, as he thought he would, and he has brought with him a party of thirteen dwarves led by none other than Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain, heir to the kingdom under the Lonely Mountain in Erebor."

"Thirteen!" exclaimed Elrohir, "I cannot believe that dwarves would dare to set out on an adventure under such a sign of bad luck! And only thirteen! They would need an army of thousands to uproot old Smaug and still have hope that any would return alive!"

Elrond laughed grimly, "I said thirteen dwarves, but that is not the sum total of their party. Mithrandir will be with them, at least as far as Mirkwood. But there is another member who quite intrigues me, and I would like for you and your brother to try to make him feel especially welcome. He is one of the small Shire-folk, a Halfling by the name of Bilbo Baggins. Believe it or not, Mithrandir expects the little fellow to serve as Thorin's burglar, you might say -- to try to help them achieve by stealth what they would never be able to do by force of arms!"

"A Halfling burglar," murmured Elladan in amusement. "Ada, one can never accuse you of attracting boring guests to your table! Where is the little fellow? We shall show him about the gardens, which should delight him. I hear they are a folk who enjoy gardens and simple pleasures."

"Yes, indeed," said Elrond, "And many, many meals and pipeweed to smoke and long, involved tales about their relations and distant relations back to the twentieth generation, so I'm told. Yes, a tour of the gardens would be just right, and then I'd like for both of you to serve as his escorts for dinner and the concert tonight. He is probably still sleeping right now, and you should let him rest. Poor fellow! He was quite completely overcome by his adventure so far. I don't see how he's going to make it all the way to the Lonely Mountain, but Mithrandir has faith in him, and that is a commodity seldom misplaced."

**********

Bilbo puttered about his cheery little room in a dithery flummox. After a long and much needed sleep, he had been greeted at his door by the tall splendid sons of Elrond and spent a most pleasant afternoon picnicking his way through the magnificent gardens and arbors and groves of Imladris. Although the Peredhel had apparently intended for the repast to be consumed all at once in the main garden, they quite affably agreed to pack up the remainder of the meal so he could snack away as they walked and not risk missing any of the wonders in store.

Now, he was attempting to make himself as completely presentable and respectable as possible in anticipation of a truly sumptuous feast and a marvelous evening of music and poetry. But even the best clothes he was able to dig out of his pack had appeared creased or stained -- or creased and stained -- and it had taken a great deal of effort to remedy the situation. But at last, the gold buttons on his best waistcoat were all properly shined, his collar was straight, his toes were well brushed, and he felt quite ready for a magical evening.

And not a moment too soon! A polite knock on the door announced the arrival of the very elegantly groomed Masters Elladan and Elrohir, who greeted their guest warmly and fondly (for he really was quite a charming and good-hearted little fellow) and proceeded to lead the way to the banquet hall, Elladan walking beside Master Baggins and Elrohir following courteously a few paces behind.

They had just passed under the archway leading into the central vestibule and the chamberlain's station, when with a startling smack, Masters Baggins and Elladan found themselves suddenly soaked to the skin with water! Gasping with shock, Elladan quickly inquired, "Master Baggins, are you quite all right? What on earth . . ." His voice trailed off as he heard a horrified moan directly above his head.

Glancing upward, Elladan spied the white, petrified faces of Estel and Lindariel peering down from the balcony above. Elrohir gingerly peeked out from his place of safety underneath the archway and picked up a ragged wet piece of old cheesecloth that had apparently been lightly coated on the inside with wax -- just enough to hold a quantity of water -- that, when tied shut with a piece of string, would explode and splatter the water everywhere when dropped from a sufficient height. He looked up at the children, who were clearly aghast by what they had done to an honored guest, and began laughing uproariously.

"You two," spluttered Elladan furiously, "Get down here this instant!" The faces disappeared and clattering footsteps could be heard racing down the stairs. "Master Baggins, I do beg your pardon! It would appear we have become the victims of a childish prank!" He stared daggers at his twin brother, who collapsed onto a nearby bench, nearly hysterical with laughter. To Elladan's complete surprise, Master Baggins began laughing as well, as he plucked the bit of wet, waxy cheesecloth out of Elrohir's fingers.

"Well, I say," chortled the little Hobbit, "This is rather clever, isn't it?" And he continued laughing with Elrohir as the two horrified children burst into the vestibule. "Master Perian! Oh, Master Perian and Master Elladan, I am so very, very sorry! We didn't know it was you!" blurted Estel. "It's all my fault. Please don't blame Lindariel! It was my idea to get back at Dorion for spilling ink on her new dress and ruining it so she couldn't wear it to the concert tonight! Master Perian, do forgive me! What can we do to make up for our mistake?"

The boy was clearly distressed, and Lindariel was practically in tears. How had their excellent plan gone so horribly wrong? They saw Dorion cross the courtyard and enter the hallway door. They heard the footsteps under the archway, dropped the cheesecloth bladders of water right on cue, but instead of bursting on Dorion's head, they had struck the funny little halfling guest and Master Elladan!

Elladan looked from Master Baggin's amused grin to the crestfallen faces before him trying to figure out how best to remedy the situation and deal with their misbehavior, when Elrohir suddenly spoke up in a voice still half choked with laughter. "One moment! One moment!" he gasped. "You say you designed this elaborate plan to get back at that pampered snit from Mirkwood?"

"Yes," said Estel forthrightly, "He's done nothing but torment Lindariel since she began studying in the Hall of Fire. I wanted to beat him up, even if he is bigger than I am, but Mithrandir said that it would probably only make things worse for Lindariel. But pitying the stupid fool only worked for a little while, and now he's gone too far! No one hurts my friends!"

Elrohir looked from the boy's hot determined face to the tiny elf maid at his side and nodded approvingly. "I like your attitude, young Estel. You should stick up for your friends when all other efforts have been exhausted. With bullies, there are times for diplomacy, and when diplomacy fails, one must take action! Come with me Master Baggins, and we will find some attendants to help you find suitable attire. I know your travels must have taken a toll on your wardrobe. And you two come with me as well. While my brother is making himself presentable once again, I believe we can devise a more successful way to settle the score with that brat Dorion for good!"

"Excellent, Master Elrohir!" exclaimed the Hobbit, "And while we are walking, perhaps you children can tell me exactly how you devised this clever trick. I have some nieces and nephews back home who would probably enjoy this prank very much!"

**********

After settling Master Baggins in his room with two attendants to see to his needs, Elrohir motioned for the children to follow him into one of the wardrobe rooms in the private wing reserved for Master Elrond and his children. They sat quietly on a bench, not daring to touch any of the beautiful clothing draped over forms or stored on shelves and in boxes about the room as Elrohir searched for something in particular.

At last, they heard him exclaim, "Aha!," and moments later he emerged from the back of the room with what appeared to be two long narrow bolts of white dustcloth. However, when he laid them down and folded back the top layer of cloth, he revealed a beautiful, sparkling blue velvet gown just Lindariel's size with layers of beautiful beading and delicate embroidery about the bodice. From the second cloth emerged a handsome suit of clothes for Estel, including a silvery grey brocade tunic and dark silk trousers. "There," said Elrohir. "I can't imagine Dorion has anything nearly so fine to wear to dinner tonight."

"Dinner?" asked Lindariel. "But we will look out of place dressed up so beautifully at the table with the rest of the journeymen and minstrels!"

"Ah, but you will be sitting with me at the head table tonight," smiled Elrohir, who soon passed into another small fit of laughter at their gaping faces. "Of course you shall sit with me! I haven't had such a good laugh in months! Besides, you will need to be sitting at the head table in order to see what I have planned for your friend Dorion. I detest bullies, and after tonight, I don't think he'll be bothering you anymore, Lindariel."

And so, after sending a quiet message to Gilraen and Mírwen and Calabor about the change in plans for the evening and informing the chamberlain to add two more places to the head table, Elrohir took Lindariel to his sister's empty room, where attendants waited to help her with her gown. Estel only needed an extra splash at the water basin and a few moments to himself in Elrohir's room to make himself presentable.

When all were ready, they joined Elladan and Master Baggins to walk to the banquet hall, where the feast was already in progress. As they walked, Elladan could be heard whispering to his brother, "That was very nice of you," and his brother replied, "You must be joking! It was the least I could do after seeing the look on your face when the water came crashing down! I shall be laughing about that for the next several months!"

Dorion's mouth hung open like a stuffed trout when Lindariel and Estel entered the banquet hall so grandly dressed and escorted by one of Elrond's tall twin sons -- the fierce one named Elrohir. Then he nearly dropped his wine glass on the floor when they were seated in places of honor at the high table on either side of Master Elrohir, with the strange Perian from the Shire at Lindariel's side, and the Dwarf named Gloin beside Estel.

Master Baggins proved to be a charming dinner companion, who urged Lindariel to try many of the more unfamiliar delicacies that circulated the large table and asked intelligent questions about her tutelage in the Hall of Fire and what might be expected on the program for the evening. At one point, he patted her hand and said, "It is such a treat to be able to sit at table with someone almost exactly my size. All these big folk can make a body feel more than a bit insignificant! I do hope you will sit with me at the concert and help me follow all the elvish. I know a little bit of Sindarin, but the Quenya leaves me quite out of my depth!"

As the second course was being served, Elrohir quietly got the attention of his two little guests and said eagerly, "Now, just watch this!" and he settled back in his seat after an almost imperceptible nod to the chamberlain, who raised a finger towards the chief attendant at Dorion's table. A moment later, three attendants -- expert servers who had performed flawlessly in Lord Elrond's banquet hall for many years -- suddenly bumped into each other right behind Dorion's chair, depositing three large platters of food directly onto his head and lap!

Elrohir rose smoothly to his feet and crossed the banquet hall to Dorion's side, as the attendants murmured faint-hearted apologies and gathered up the trays -- all of which coincidently were brass, and escaped the mishap entirely undamaged. "Master Dorion!" exclaimed Elrohir. "What a shame your fine garments were ruined! Allow me to escort you to your room so you can make yourself presentable!" And with that, Elrohir practically lifted the teenage elf to his feet and carried him from the banquet hall by the scruff of his neck.

As soon as Dorion was gone, Master Baggins and the children burst out laughing, and even Elladan shook his head and chuckled under his breath, as Elrond looked about the room in brief confusion before returning to his conversation with Mithrandir and Thorin. Several of the dwarves in Bilbo's vicinity leaned forward and were quickly appraised of the situation by the merry Hobbit, which they greatly enjoyed, and when Elrohir reappeared a few moments later, the dwarves insisted upon drinking a quiet toast to him and to the two children for setting a bully straight. "And now, Master Elrohir," chuckled Gloin, "You must tell us about the choice message I imagine you just delivered to this young miscreant!"

"Oh, I politely told him that all of the attendants in Imladris had been informed about his atrocious behavior, and that if he persisted in comporting himself like a spoiled jealous prat, he could expect to find his meals deposited upon his head and his lap on a regular basis until he mended his ways!" And with that, the lower half of the head table burst into uproarious laughter, to the amazement of the elder members at the head of the table, who had been left out of the joke entirely.

For Lindariel and Estel, the rest of the meal passed in a happy blur of conversation and wine and marvelous foods and such desserts that only a hobbit could describe with true justice. Even though the concert was absolutely sublime, they were hard pressed to remain awake, so full and content were their stomachs. After a while, the Peredhel quietly excused themselves to carry the two sleepy children to bed.

As they walked towards the living quarters and the detached cottages with their slumbering burdens, Elrohir could be heard saying to his twin, "You know, I really don't have much patience with most children. But now, I begin to see why you are so very fond of these two. The boy has quite a fine spirit and will make an excellent warrior and leader one day. And Lindariel . . ."

"Yes," said Elladan, looking down at the beautiful little maid in his arms. "She is quite magical, isn't she?"

**********

And thus the water balloon was invented . . . . Really . . . . It could happen . . . . After all, doesn't The Professor credit Bandobras Took (The Bullroarer) with inventing the game of golf?
Last edited by Lindariel on Sun Jan 09, 2011 1:58 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Postby Iolanthe » Tue Mar 31, 2009 7:39 pm

I'm so glad we've separated your wonderful story out here in it's own thread :D .

I'll have to catch up with your latest installment tomorrow, Lindariel, but at least I can find it quickly :lol: . Be back with comments when I'm up to speed....
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Postby Iolanthe » Thu Apr 02, 2009 3:50 pm

Caught up!

:clapping: I'm so pleased Bilbo has arrived :D . I knew there had to be celebrations and feasting there somewhere. I'm enjoying this so much, Lindariel. Shall we wait for the next part until after everyone else has caught up a little?
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Postby marbretherese » Thu Apr 02, 2009 7:08 pm

It's good to see imagination at work, isn't it? Enjoying tremendously . . . ! :D
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Postby Lindariel » Thu Apr 02, 2009 8:15 pm

I'm glad you enjoyed the invention of the water balloon. A little whimsy in a story every now and then never hurts.
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Postby Lindariel » Mon Apr 06, 2009 5:10 am

Trusting that everyone is all caught up now, I thought I'd post the next installment!


A New Arrival -- Part I

Over the next several days, the children and Master Baggins became fast friends, and gradually the Hobbit made certain to introduce them to all of his dwarven companions, including the imposing Thorin Oakenshield. He bowed to them most impressively and then, reluctantly and at Bilbo's urging, allowed them to examine the unusual silver key he kept around his neck on a long chain. "It goes to a magic door on the side of the Lonely Mountain," said Bilbo in his most ominous story-telling voice. "And beyond the door is a wondrous treasure guarded by a fearsome dragon named Smaug!"

"Well, now, I think that's quite enough, Master Baggins," said Thorin abruptly, as he put away his magnificent key. "Wouldn't want to give these fine children nightmares, now would we?" he asked in a pointed manner that suggested Master Baggins had perhaps said more than Thorin would like. "Oh, it's just a harmless bit of fun!" exclaimed Bilbo. "Children love such stories, don't you?"

"Yes, indeed, we do, Master Perian," said Lindariel eagerly. "But I would also like to hear about your people and how they live and what your houses are like and what you do and what you eat and why you don't wear shoes and how old you are and whether you're quite all grown up yet."

"My goodness!" exclaimed Bilbo, and Thorin responded, "Yes, indeed. Much more suitable. Well, carry on Baggins. And good day to you Mistress Lindariel and Master Estel. I must go speak with Lord Elrond now." And he hastily extricated himself from what was bound to become an endless stream of questions.

But Bilbo delighted in telling the children all about the Shire, its burgeoning flower gardens and fertile fields, its lovely orchards and little rivers, and about the games and dances and songs of hobbit lads and lasses, the county fairs and birthday parties, and the many, many, many, many meals! As he was talking, Elladan and Elrohir crossed to the little group on their way to the courtyard and stopped just out of the children's eyesight so as not to interrupt Master Baggin's rapt audience. Before long, both of the tall elves were grinning with pleasure at Bilbo's colorful renderings of his quiet, remarkably unremarkable village life, and noted the spark of mischief and enthusiasm in the Halfling's voice and sparkling eyes. There was indeed much more to the little fellow than immediately met the eye, and they began to see why Mithrandir had such faith in the red-cheeked, portly Hobbit.

At length, Master Baggins caught sight of the Peredhel and their quiet amusement, and he called out, "Well, here are our gallant friends, who helped put the monster Dorion to rout!" and the children flew happily to embrace the tall, dark-haired warriors and draw them into their happy circle. Elrohir seemed a bit taken aback by their warm, affectionate greeting, but Elladan swooped Lindariel up in his arms and swung her giggling in a great circle before depositing her slightly breathless back on the bench beside the Hobbit.

"Excellent! I see the three of you have become good friends," he called out, as Elrohir patted Estel firmly on the shoulder. "Would you like to come with us and greet some new arrivals we are expecting any moment now?" Lindariel jumped up and down and clapped her hands, and Estel immediately inquired, "Who is coming? Do I know them?"

"You should know one at least," replied Elladan. "Avarahaiel is coming back today after spending some time with her family in Mirkwood." Estel wrinkled his forehead for a moment, and then quickly brightened, "Oh! You mean my friend Avara? She's finally coming back? Oh, Lindariel, wait until you meet her! She has red hair even brighter than yours!"

"Who is she?" Lindariel asked as the group began a leisurely stroll to the outer courtyard. "Is she of the Edain, like you?" Estel shook his head, "No, she's an elf. She's a bit older than me." Elrohir grunted and laughed, "You mean, she's more than twice your age, although I bet you'd be more coordinated on the training ground than she is!"

"You're too hard on her," said Estel, defensively, but Elrohir looked him directly in the eye and responded, "I have to be hard on her. She is training to be a warrior, and she must hone her fighting skills to perfection. Her life and the lives of her comrades may depend on that one day. If I excuse her clumsiness now, it could mean her death later. Consider that before you accuse me of being a bully like Dorion; there is a difference. Come to think of it, Estel, you're tall for your age. Maybe we should start you on some tumbling and sword work. What do you say?"

Estel's face brightened, "Do you really mean it? I could start training to be a warrior?" Elladan broke in, "Why not? It's in your blood, and you are showing signs of growing to be as tall or even taller than your father. I think you're right Elrohir; he should begin soon, but we should speak with Father and Gilraen first."

"Could I come watch?" asked Lindariel, shyly. "I know I'm still too small, but Amarthalion said that at some point I must learn the sword and the bow, so that I can make my way in the world when I am a journeyman." Elrohir laughed, but Elladan regarded her seriously and said, "You're right, my little beauty. Much as it pains me to think on it, you will need to learn how to protect yourself. And there are things about being small that can be turned to your advantage. I've seen you run and dance. You're very fast and agile and flexible, and you have excellent balance. Those abilities will stand you in good stead with the sword and the bow. And you should both learn to ride."

"In my country, we aren't much for waging war and such things, but we do need to deal with ruffians from time to time, and my own adventures so far have taught me that it can be useful to know how to use a blade," said Master Baggins, soberly. "Though I do agree with you, Master Elladan. It is hard to think of such a sweet child needing to brandish a weapon."

"But I will have to do it one day," said Lindariel in a strange, far away voice, her brilliant eyes swirling and dancing with visions. "I have to find a way through the forest . . . get through the vines and thorns . . . Ouch! . . . Where are you? . . . Why can't I speak? . . . Let go!" She was twisting and scrambling with the thin air as though imprisoned by some invisible force. "Let go! . . . Don't stop calling! . . . I'm coming! . . . Where are you?"

For a moment, her companions were aghast, uncertain what sort of fit had taken hold of the child. But then, Elladan knelt before her, caught sight of her swirling eyes, and shook her gently, calling, "Lindariel, come back! Elrohir, go get Father at once! Lindariel, sweet one, listen to me! Come back from the Far Plain!"

The child continued to struggle wildly against his firm embrace, as Lord Elrond and Elrohir rushed into the courtyard and the Master took her from his son's arms. "Lindariel!" summoned Lord Elrond with his deep baritone, "Your vision is not yet complete! The quest has not begun! Come back and prepare! Your time has not yet come!"

Lindariel gradually stopped struggling, as her swirling eyes righted themselves, and she shook her head in confusion. "Oh, Master Elrond! I heard the voice again! It is so beautiful, and it needs me! I have to go!" she cried.

"There, there," he crooned gently, "Did you see the source of the voice?" She shook her head. "Do you know where you were?" Again, she shook her head. "I know these visions trouble you, Lindariel, and one day they will become clear to you. But until then, how can you possibly find the one who needs you? Your quest is still hidden in the mists, waiting for you to grow up and to be ready. You must be patient and study, my dear one. All will be revealed in time. Come, let's sit down here in the shade, and Estel will bring you something to drink while we wait for our guests?"

Estel flew into the inner courtyard to fetch a cool drink of water from the fountain, as Elrond led the somewhat stunned child over to a graceful bench in the shade of a large elm. Master Baggins turned to Elladan in quiet concern and asked, "Will she be all right? What possessed her?"

"I don't entirely profess to understand Lindariel's special qualities, Master Bilbo," the elf replied softly. "From the moment she came to Imladris five years ago, Lindariel has demonstrated precocious gifts of sight, an ability to communicate with growing things through song, and an extraordinarily rich and beautiful voice for one so tiny. My Father and Amarthalion, our Chief Bard, believe these visions that come upon her, both when asleep and awake, are signs that she is called to some great quest that has yet to be revealed. This is the first time I have seen her have a waking vision, so it caught me by surprise. Beyond that, I don't know what to tell you. She will be quite herself in just a few moments, happy and chattering as though nothing untoward has happened."

"My goodness!" said Bilbo gently, "And here I am, a grown hobbit with a group of trusty dwarves, worried about a bit of burgling!"

Elladan smiled, "You seem to keep forgetting about the small detail of the dragon, Master Baggins." The Hobbit nodded, "Yes, well, I intend to leave that detail to Thorin. After all, I was brought on this adventure as a thief, not a warrior!"
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Postby Iolanthe » Mon Apr 06, 2009 2:39 pm

I love Bilbo's 'most ominous story-telling voice' and the 'remarkably unremarkable' Shire life :D .

Did you get as far as her growing up and finally meeting the owner of the beautiful voice in your story, Lindariel? I know you never got quite to the end.
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Postby Lindariel » Mon Apr 06, 2009 4:57 pm

There are only about 2-3 more installments about little Lindariel and then I was enticed to add "grown-up" Lindariel to the Group Story over at WRoR and became quite involved in weaving her into that adventure. That story took place about 10 years before Frodo left the Shire, so Lindariel and Aragorn are both around 77 years old. The adventure takes place mostly within the confines of Mirkwood and involves the desperate attempts of the remaining clans of Avari elves to fight for their survival and re-establish their colony within the ruins of Sarndrambor, a hidden fortress some leagues away from Thranduil's kingdom.

Elladan, Elrohir, Aragorn, and Legolas are part of this adventure, as well as some original characters, including Avarahaiel (who was just introduced in this last installment -- she doesn't technically "belong" to me, as she was created by a colleague at WRoR) and a variety of wonderful personages created by other WRoR colleagues.

I'd love to post that story, but it doesn't "belong" to me. So, I guess it's up to me to get back to writing Lindariel's story. As I mentioned, I do have pretty much her entire life mapped out, including her quest (Yes, I do know the source of the beautiful voice). It's just a matter of getting it out of my head and onto paper! And that's easier said than done!
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Postby Iolanthe » Mon Apr 06, 2009 7:59 pm

I think you really must take it up again - to have that whole story in your head, it's got to come out. You know you'll have a very appreciative audience here if you do find the time (not easy, I know).
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