The Other Ranger [ Lord Of The Rings x Silmarillion ]

A Doomed Bloodline

There were Galadhrim guards stationed every so often throughout the area that comprised Caras Galadhon. Whether up in flets or on the paths below the trees, the grey clad warriors stood at attention. Miril decided immediately to go to the stables.

She took the winding path beneath the silver-barked trees, relishing the beauty of the moonlit forest. Silver lamps hung from branches of the smaller mellyrn, lighting the white stone paths. Singing she heard, off in the distance, floating to her lightly through the air. She caught only snippets of what was being spoken of, but she heard the word "Mithrandir" repeated many times. She figured they were lamenting the passing of that great wizard too.

"Daeroch. Na vedui!" Miril called lightly as she approached the stable. "Daeroch, tolo!"

Her horse, having been raised by the elves of Rivendell, clearly understood her to say "At last! Daeroch, come!" The horse whinnied and neighed, tossing his head up and down in joy upon sighting his partner and master. Daeroch trotted out to where she was near the gate to the small fenced in area and nuzzled her as Miril went in.

"I missed you, too," she said softly, rubbing his long nose.

"He is a beautiful animal," someone said from behind her. "I assume he's yours?"

Miril whipped around to see who had spoken and found herself facing Legolas.

"Indeed," Miril nodded with a smile. "Daeroch has been my companion for many years, though I stabled him in Rivendell for some time."

"Everyone else is asleep?" Legolas asked, coming over.

She nodded. "Last I checked. What are you doing up?"

"This place is far too alive for me to sleep right now." He shook his head. "I have been exploring this magnificent city."

Miril understood perfectly. "Indeed! The trees, even, feel more alive than any I ever encounter out in the wild. Every time I come to this place, my heart leaps for joy."

"You have been to Lothlorien before, then?"

She smiled. "Three times before now, actually. Though all other times I was accompanied by Elrond's sons. And they were short trips."

"They are a fun pair of peredhil, that is for certain," Legolas laughed. "It must be nice to have companions who are also like you."

Miril considered this. "I suppose. Though their lineage is much more impressive than mine. And the Dunedain are a wonderful family, that is for certain."

"If Aragorn is any indication of their prowess and skill, then you are most definitely correct!" Legolas moved to pet Daeroch's flank.

"And you haven't met my father, Halbarad. Well, my adopted father. He's one of the best. Aragorn and he are like brothers." Miril smiled, wistfully thinking of her father.

"I hope to meet him someday, then," Legolas nodded. "Well I will leave you and Daeroch alone. I have much more to do in this city. Farewell."

"Farewell," she smiled.

The elf of Mirkwood melted into the city like he belonged there. She knew his father was Sindarin, but she figured he had some Silvan blood somewhere, though this was only speculation. After all, fair hair was quite rare in Sindarin bloodlines.

"Doesn't matter, really," she chuckled, speaking to Daeroch. "He seems nice enough. Not quite Elladan or Elrohir though. Not a replacement for them."

"It must be very difficult to replace my grandsons."

Miril looked up to see Galadriel standing behind her with a small smile on her lips. Miril laughed a little.

"Indeed, my lady. They are a one of a kind pair." With a frown, she continued. "I miss them."

Galadriel nodded and walked over to join Daeroch and Miril. "As do I."

They stood in silence for a few moments before Galadriel continued. Miril didn't want to say anything and risk interrupting the Lady of the Galadhrim.

"I think it's time you hear something, Miril. It pertains to your dreams." Galadriel paused. "How much do you know of the Fëanorians?"

Miril was quivering with anticipation. "I read much about them and their dealings during the First Age, my Lady. I know that Fëanor created many things, but most of all the three Silmarils. I know that one is borne upon Eärendil's brow as he sails across the sky, and the other two were lost. I know he had seven sons, and one had Celebrimbor who created the Rings of Power. But he was the last of Fëanor's line. I know that all the sons took place in the First Kinslaying, and many of the sons died in the infamous Second and Third Kinslayings. Their actions and Oath kept them and their descendants exiled to Middle Earth."

Galadriel smiled sadly. "All you say is true, except one thing."

"And what is that, my lady?" Miril asked in confusion.

"There is another."

"Another what?"

"Another Fëanorian." Galadriel paused before continuing. "I instructed Gandalf to keep an eye on this descendent and all their children's children even unto today both for their protection and for protection from them. Edlen, we called each one down the line even unto today."

"Edlen. "Exiled"? Makes sense." Miril nodded. "Where is this elf?"

"She is no elf. She is a peredhel." Galadriel looked serious and reserved. "She is you, Miril."

Miril would've laughed had she not been able to tell Galadriel was so serious. She let it sink in. She was Fëanorian? She was a member of that cursed bloodline?

"Who am I descended from," she asked, her voice hoarse.

Galadriel sighed. "Caranthir of the Fëanorians, and Haleth of her own Great House of the Edain."

"Caranthir?" Miril's heart sunk.

Galadriel smiled sadly. "Yes. My cousins weren't always the Kinslayers they have become known as. Caranthir, or as I knew him, Morifinwë, was always a little hasty and a little too quick to anger, but he was a good friend. Until the dark times."

"I am a member of that exiled bloodline? I'm a descendant of Fëanor?" Miril was still having trouble accepting that fact.

"Indeed. The doom of Mandos has been lain upon your shoulders, too." Galadriel then smiled. "And for all the horrible things my cousins did, they were even more trouble for the Dark Lord."

"True."

"Unfortunately that is why you have been kept hidden from Sauron for so long as a Dunedain. That is why your brother was killed. The Dark Lord wants you dead, or his."

Everything clicked into place. Her cheeks grew a flaming red and her eyes narrowed. That meant more to her than Galadriel thought it would, for it told her more than just that simple fact.

"Aragorn and my father. They knew, didn't they? They knew," she huffed. "They knew and they never told me."

"Do not blame them, Miril." Galadriel sighed. "Do not-"

Miril shook her head and bowed, backing away from Lady Galadriel.

"Thank you, my Lady. For telling me this."

Miril sped away down the path back towards the tents. Aragorn had known why her brother had been killed. He had known Miril's ancestry, and the doom that lay upon her. He had known, but hadn't trusted her enough to tell her. Instead he'd faked friendship to watch her every move and make sure she didn't turn into a kinslayer like her forefather.

She felt betrayed.