For in the multitude of dreams and many words there are also divers vanities: but fear thou God.
- Ecclesiastes 5:7
If you can dream and not make dreams your master,
If you can think and not make thoughts your aim...
- "If" by Rudyard Kipling
"Ada!"
Voronwe heard his daughter and followed her voice, and found her outside the home, concentrating on a tree with a knife in hand. She bit the inside of her cheek and threw the knife. The end stuck firmly in the tree's trunk and she smiled brightly, turning to her father with pride in her face.
"Well done, iell," said he, and when he saw how her smile grew yet brighter, he too smiled. "But your technique is not precise, rather abysmal, and calls for correction if you are to obtain any remarkable skill in this."
She groaned.
"Ada, but I shall never be in a moment where I will desperately need the knowledge and skill to throw knives!"
"Ai, Anneth, you never could tell, for some day, you may find yourself in desperate need of a way to defend yourself. Do not dismiss the thought, Anneth, even as I know how you dislike the idea."
The elleth frowned and threw the knife once more, following the instructions of her father. Her knife's blade missed the trunk entirely, the handle bouncing off the bark harmlessly.
"I have followed your directions precisely, Ada, and I have failed," she complained, retrieving the knife, now rather discouraged.
"Iell, be not discouraged, for if you had followed them precisely, you would have succeeded. However, skills do not come within a few mere attempts. They must be practiced and cultivated."
And so Anneth undertook the great task of learning to throw knives. Each morn she took her place before a tree, throwing and throwing until her arms grew weary or her frustration conquered her resolve. Laineth would shake her head disapprovingly at her husband when she saw their daughter so caught up within her quest to master the knife, while Voronwe only smiled proudly, glad that his daughter had taken interest in things other than daydreaming and immersing herself in imaginations that she did not even bother to write down. It gave peace to him as a father to know that Anneth now could have a way to defend herself should the shadow return. There was no doubt in his heart that it would return, yet the question of when it would return continued to linger.
Voronen though the whole ordeal hilarious, seeing as he, an already mighty ellon (in his own eyes), had become quite proficient at the art of throwing knives. He was as skilled in spinning them as a stone is at floating, a fact which consoled Anneth immensely each time her brother gloated about his skill compared to her lack thereof.
Now, it should be admitted that is was a rather amusing spectacle, for Anneth was rather slight as a young elleth, and her eyes always seemed to say that her mind was not where she was, and to see such a girl throwing knives was particularly unfitting. Such a sentiment had crossed her mind and had been immediately scorned, though it did remain true.
Weeks passed, and her skill grew some, though now much of her day was spent on perfecting the art. In a way, it had begun to master her, and she had only lost mastery of it as time went on. 'Twas not that her ability had diminished, nay, it was that she spent far too much time on it, and her life became ruled by her desire to perfect the skill.
It was not long before Voronwe took notice of this and became aware that it was time for his daughter to learn another lesson that would behoove her in the years to come.
Always had she strived to perfect her skills, but now other things had been abandoned for the sake of this one aptitude that she longed to have.
And with gentle words, Voronwe explained to his eldest daughter the importance of priorities, and a vital part of mastering a skill or reaching a goal was to not allow it to rule you. Yet not only skills and goals, but dreams also, desires and wishes. They too should not be permitted to become as one's leader over their mind.
"When the desires of one's heart grow pressing and even painful, then must they be removed from one's own hands and placed into Eru's unfailing ones," Voronwe counseled. "Remember this, iell nin, 'tis not as mere and trifling as it may appear now."
The elleth only nodded compliantly, unable to perceive how her father's words could come of her wish to gain a mere skill. As her father admonished her to never forget that her emotions should never rule her, her dreams should not always guide her decisions. With grave eyes he told her that a day might come when her mind would become ruled by her current circumstances, and whatever it should be would plague her mind at all times.
"When thoughts come that burn within your mind each waking hour of your life, it means that whatever consumes your mind you love, perhaps too much. Then you must will yourself to continue on, to not be mastered by that which you should master yourself," he said. "Perhaps it will be your dreams that plague you, perhaps not."
"How, Ada?" she had asked. "For all my dreams can be trifling and fantastical. I fail to see why this must come of my pastime."
"I would not classify it as a pastime if you do not use it to only pass brief moments in time and instead spend entire days with it."
She sighed, agreeing reluctantly, and resigned herself to take her father's words to heart, though she did not understand why they were needed.
However, with the myriad daydreams Anneth often had, she found it easy to disregard her father's counsel, though she knew precisely how foolish that was.
Truthfully, Voronwe was unsure of what situation in Anneth's life would cause her to recall his words, but he doubted not that she needed to hear them. She could not understand why such a meaningful discussion was necessitated by her actions, regardless of how long she thought. Her father's words were seldom remembered by the young elleth, and soon were forgotten entirely. Even so, all wise words will return to benefit one, even if they should remain disregarded for many of the passing years, for they will prevail when they are most needed.
A slow month has passed, the world leisurely moving about, though there is no leisure to be found. Nothing is calm, it seems, for all things, both souls and the earth know that the Shadow is growing strong. And the rogue orcs know it also, for now they band together to march to Mordor, altogether too willing to attack any whom they imagine stand in their way.
Each passing week sees at least one soldier with an injury that would easily be fatal to mortal men. Those evil, twisted mockeries of what Eru created to be His children grow even more merciless and repulsive still. Elves leave our valley at a steady rate, having now heard the call of the Sea or believing that their time here is now finished. And a select few leave because they have lost hope, and such hope can be reborn in the Undying Lands.
The orcs who march turn their eyes to the Black Land, yes, but they hesitate not to maul any who crosses their path. They will kill even for the fun of it.
My mother becomes more melancholy every day. I know that she longs to have gone on to Elvenhome and be with my father. Yet she remains here, for me, though I tell her that she need not stay. I perceive she is not so discouraged for herself, but for me. It has been said that mothers have been gifted with foresight, and even as this has proved true, I know not what my mother has seen, or if she has even seen anything.
As for myself, I wish to lose all faith and hope when news of what Ennorath faces reaches me, but I have sworn that it shall never be so. I refuse to let go of the hope that I know, neither will I forget the faith I have in the Creator.
Had I the means, I would fight, though I despise the idea of being caught up in warfare. And without the means to fight, it is difficult to see how I might be productive to this cause of good.
Perhaps my heart would be allayed if I knew that I might do something to ensure the success of the Company's quest, but alas, for I cannot do even a single thing. Not one of my actions here can influence it now; I am insignificant in the grand scale of it all.
I feel useless.
Perhaps I am useless, doomed to wait here, unable to come and go or even to help in any miniscule way.
The nearest I have come to any contribution would be my mindless saving of Thandion. Without a second thought, I had rushed out of the city, making for the plains outside Imladris. Had it not been for Legolas, I most likely would have stupidly gotten myself killed. Even so, I did come close to an untimely death, and yet, I would do it again if need be. 'Twas what was right, and at times, what is right is not always easy nor safe. There are times that safety can be abandoned, when it must be abandoned for the betterment of the world, though what I did surely was not for the betterment of the world but only of my sister.
I wish I could abandon my current safety and put myself to greater use than spending the days wondering how the armies of the free people fare, how much stronger Sauron has grown, how far the Ring has gone and where it has gone.
I have been able to live peacefully with the resignation that I have indeed lost my heart, and its matters do not rest in my hands any longer. I have resigned myself to remain here in Middle-earth, yet I now must discover for myself a purpose, something I might do now that would prove more beneficial than sitting about wondering how my dreams might come about, or if a change will come.
Accepting that my heart is indeed gone in the hands of Mirkwood's stupidly charming and handsome prince is little consolation in these times. In fact, it is no consolation at all! I want nothing more than for these gloomy days to pass us by and for a new age to make its entrance.
Now can I clearly recall merrier days, when the halls of Elrond were filled with song, and we sang in the trees and had lighter hearts. Yet those days are not so far gone, a mere fifty years have passed since then. And since then, the watchful peace has been lifted and has given way to war. There is still peace in the hearts of some, in that they do not worry and are content where they now stand, but the world no longer sees peace. Every realm has tasted the bitterness of impending war, an unforgiving assault on the world as we now know it.
Outside Imladris, I know the world has changed, and far too many places have seen fire and bloodshed in the passing year. Here, little has changed beside the now steady trickle of those who make the journey to the Grey Havens. Their songs of the Sea can be heard at the edge of the Valley at all times, and their hearts are lightened knowing of their destination. Naught else has changed, for the seasons go by as they always have, birds cheerily sing each morning without faltering, and the Sun rises and falls to give place to the Moon.
It cannot be said that the injured members of the guard that are carried into the healing halls are a change to the often calm atmosphere of Imladris, for few see them and few die. Though the number of those injured grows, the Firstborn of Iluvatar do not give up their spirits as easily as Men. It is not so much a gift as it may seem, for some would have rather met their ends gladly then return to this world and the horrors in it.
It would be so easy to give up now. There is so much worry among us, it is tangible. I could grasp it with my fingers, like I could grasp the ach in my heart.
Even while I attend to the daily duties with a forced and grim smile on my face it remains, and Nana often tells me so, for she sees through any mask of mine. It would be easier to forget all the events of the last two moons, forget the prince, than to have every encounter always emblazoned in my mind, consuming my thoughts without surrender.
Consuming me.
Ha! My father once told me that once a dream or an idea, begins to consume your thoughts, you may love it far too much, and you must will yourself to continue on without allowing these thoughts to become who you are. But he was not a dream, neither was he a mere idea, for we were friends, and I knew him. Yet even then, even as he is real, I must still go on and continue to be myself, not merely the elleth who fell in love with Prince Legolas. If I allowed myself to, I could reduce my identity to that. I refuse to allow that to ever occur, for I do remember my father's words well.
'Tis always amusing to see how wise words benefit us in the end, especially when we understand not their true meanings when they first meet our ears. My father's words that I now remember I once spurned, thinking them unnecessary. And now, to follow such advice may do me good.
I let out a strained breath, weary with worry, though I should find no cause to worry and find my spirit disquieted because of the hope that I have.
I suppose having naught else to do but worry has made it far easier to dwell on thoughts of the prince and on all that I wished to have.
A deafening crash sound before me, and I gasp.
Nana stand before me, hands on her hips, pointing at my book that I have evidently dropped.
"Authiel, an elleth is at the door, asking for you. I have never seen her before."
"Did I drop it?"
"Yes, and of that I am not surprised by. You were caught up in your own thoughts. Again."
"Has that not been what I have forever found myself doing?" I answer.
Nana laughs, shakes her head, and points to the door as to remind me.
I stand, making my way to the doorway quickly, unaware of who it might be.
Upon seeing who it is, I breathe sharply, for I would not have imagined her to find reason to come here.
"Oh! Authiel, I am very sorry to disturb you, and, frankly, it seems silly now that I come. I believe, I shall–" Tauriel nearly vomits her speech from her mouth, frowning and smiling in between words.
"Do not trouble yourself so, Tauriel. I do not really mind," I answer, gathering together what wits I still possess and stepping outside.
She smiles gratefully, clasping her hands together tightly. "I know very few here," she says, "and when I set out from Mirkwood, I imagined returning promptly. Precisely the opposite occurred, for I am now stranded here until peace is restored to Middle-earth."
Poor elleth! I have not even fathomed what her situation is, her traveling partner gone, and the world too perilous to journey back to the Woodland Realm.
"Stranded?" I ask.
I feel horribly out of depth and uncomfortable. We have spoken before, but then it was strange, and now, yet stranger. "You are staying in the Last Homely House west of the Misty Mountains. I do not call that stranded."
Tauriel laughs. "Ai, you do not call it stranded because you know every elf here. I do not."
"Well, you are acquainted with me, I suppose," I answer quickly. "Not that you would even prefer my company, or even find it better than wandering Imladris alone. Or perhaps you would like for me to-" She stops me by raising a hand. I
"Precisely. I have been wandering alone the past fortnight, and I thought I might be able to seek company with you." Her smiles have given way to what seems to be worry. A perpetual worry.
"You know so little of me, though."
Her eyebrows raise and she glances questioningly at me. "Do I? I may have heard more of you than you believe. Forgive me, for I am making a rather terrible proposition."
I am mostly taken aback by her friendly openness, not accustomed to circumstances as these, having seen most everyone I called my friend depart from the shores. "No, no, not terrible in the slightest. Never would I be able to imagine myself in a position as precarious as yours, in a place you know little of, and your home within reach, only obstructed by the sickening reach of darkness. I would have not a heart if I should spurn your friendship now."
"I offered friendship to you then, though, I do imagine those were terrible circumstances under which to meet." Her eyes sparkle and she knows. Of course she does. I sobbed like a silly, brainless, heartbroken elleth. She would be a fool to not be able to see the extent to which I have lost my disloyal heart.
"Oh, then I was truly in disarray! I must have made a fool of myself, sobbing and clinging so," I respond, recalling the day. Truthfully, it would be more favourable to not bring back to mind the sadness of that day.
"Few saw the exchange. I had heard so much of you I was curious to see what elleth had possessed the power to charm the prince's heart."
"I am far from that elleth. And you must have unknowingly 'charmed' him in a sense?"
I regret the words, knowing how provoking and tactless they were.
"He was taken away with an idea, and a hankering after the idea. You did not much fit the idea, but you fulfilled it."
I frown in confusion.
"You will see," is all she gives me as an entirely insufficient explanation.
It always shall baffle me how I can see what transpires with people, long as I am not involved. The moment I have become a part, I lose all ability to understand the situation.
I frown. "Perhaps you could explain that better. What will I see? How can I see it?"
"Oh, Authiel, if you cannot see it now it will be a while until you do. I have found it best when I let others find out what I have observed without me telling them. And it is a bit more satisfying," she admits.
"There were some who did see the exchange?" I ask, unsettled by that notion.
"Yes, but I have heard nothing of it. I do wonder if the Elvenking has."
I sigh,
She gasps. "Where found you the courage to do such a thing?"
"Idiocy. Not courage, Tauriel."
"I wished to offer an apology for the circumstances of our meeting. They were rather–unfavourable."
I shake my head, finding no reason for her to apologise. "Oh, do not find it necessary to apologise. You said then that we might have been good friends, and I do believe that. As long as you remain in Imladris, I offer my friendship."
It would be insolent to hold myself above her, and there is no goodness it allowing her to stay here while she knows so few.
"Your friendship shall serve to me as a comfort, Authiel," she smiles.
"Have you no acquaintances here?" I ask her, wondering how one who must be well traveled can have not a single friend in this place.
"No, merely a few of the captains, but they cannot be as friends to me, as they are all ellyn. 'Tis impossible for them to truly understand anything," answers she, quietly chuckling. "Many perceive me as enjoying the company of ellyn more because of my love of combat and devotion to my position as Captain of the Guard, yet the truth is that I really do not enjoy ellyn at all. I would have ceased my involvement in the Elvenking's militia because of their insufferableness. The only reason I remain is because I swore lifelong duty to my king until he release me or he finds it fit to accept a request from me to be released."
"It seems not ideal in the slightest," I reply, taken aback in admiration by her devotion to the position she has been given.
A wry smile crosses her lips. "No, it is not quite ideal at all. But my parents have departed, and I will not marry. My circumstances are as ideal as they shall ever become for me."
"Why will you not marry?" I find myself asking rashly. "Forgive me, I mean not to pry."
"Naught is there to be forgiven. I will not marry because it is not probable in the future I have created for myself. I ensure that I do not worry myself with that fact, however."
"Then for what reason were you courting the prince?"
Another improper thing for me to inquire after, but I cannot suppress my curiosity.
"I was not. We have always been such dear friends that it seemed to everyone that we were courting."
"Oh-"
"I wish I could have loved, that another would care for me so."
An uncomfortable silence follows as I search for a proper answer, the right words that I might use instead of resorting to speaking whatsoever shall come to my mind in a moment.
"Perhaps it was because I swore when I joined the guard to never deal with romance, for I dreaded the idea that I may have to put away my swords when I inevitably had children. I thought it might be easier."
"Was it easier?" I ask.
"Nay, not a bit. I regret it more every day. It seems so easy for me to sail now and leave. I just–I cannot discover for myself a purpose any longer and am merely content living out my days in routine, every day as "
She, like so many others, has begun to know the strain of this immortal life, and would leave for Valinor if she could. And I know not the reason why she has chosen me to trust and confide in.
"Why do you tell me all of this? We have met but once?"
Wearily she answers, "Because I have none else to speak with." Then can I see all the loneliness that she now faces as her once cheerful expressions fails, giving way to a somber one. "I had many before, but they have left, gone to the Undying Lands by way of a grey ship."
"When did they leave?"
"Not long ago, a mere year has passed since their departure."
"Why did they go?"
"Their souls had grown tired of this land, for many were not of the Woodland Realm. They did not bear the same love of the forest and the trees and did not find it as difficult to part with it. And I have long loved the forest and the trees; I am thoroughly of the Silvan."
I frown, unsure of what I might say now to bring consolation. There is naught that I find, and I am left feeling more uncomfortable than before.
"And why did you not go with them, when peace still reigned, far more than it does now?"
"Fear," she plainly answers, shrugging.
"Of what? What did you fear?"
"I feared that it would be a betrayal of my king, and I feared the consequences."
"What did your king say?"
She laughs bitterly at her hands. "He has told us all that he would not stop us from sailing if we knew it to be our time. My time to leave has not come, therefore I have not gone. I must return home."
"Surely you are not returning to Mirkwood now, considering the current state of our world!" I exclaim. "Nothing past our borders has been safe since the Company left."
"Mine own borders have not been safe for a long while. I believe I can manage."
"Oh, thank you!" she suddenly exclaims, and when she glimpses my confused and slightly bewildered expression she pauses, and breathes deeply. "I just–I have not been able to voice any of my concerns or worries of late, and you have gladly listened to me, one who you know so little of!"
"You are–you are most welcome, mellon nin." I smile. "I am glad to be of some assistance to you."
"I have always felt as if I am expected to be less of an elleth because I am Captain of the Guard. Though no one told me so, I always seem to have this perception that I must be more as those around me. Sometimes it is pleasant to allow myself to be as emotional as I wish." She laughs, thankful, I suppose, that I have lent an ear to her. "I am not sure that you fully understand the magnitude of your kindness, Authiel," she then says, smiling sincerely.
I smile. "I, too, often think it would be easy to sail now. I cannot see what I can do here now."
"Oh, Authiel! You must not leave!" she exclaims, eyes alight. "It would break Legolas."
"How do you know?"
"He loves you. You are too blind to see it. Do not, by any means, abandon him."
But it seems he has abandoned me already, I think bitterly.
Tauriel then turns from my doorway and walks away, seemingly less burdened then when she knocked at the door. I am more than confused and utterly lost to why she would choose to come to my house and seek my company. Not that I did not find joy being a friend to her, but I cannot help wondering.
But if I have really showed kindness to her, and she be thankful for my kindness, then the reasons are not so relevant. I have done more today than I have in the past month, and I have begun to not dwell on my thoughts so much that I am left a slave to dreams. I have begun to truly see what my father meant and learn what he wished for me to see. If one can dream and not make dreams his master, life can pass by in a more favourable way than a life spent dwelling on what could be and not what is.
lol its rlly been like three months
I'm so bad at this idk why
i used to be so on top of it
ugh
anyway, vote and comment!!
y'all are the greatest for still sticking with this trash heap of a story
ily
may your pantries be full of lembas bread as I go to find the sun
- ness