Child of the Stars

The raven fledgling sat on the tree branch resting his wings. Flying was hard work. Especially when you were still learning. Yes he had flight feathers, and they worked quite well. But he also felt like an oversized fluffball at times. Not looking like the sleek and finished adults. Okay he wasn’t an adult but that was not the point. He gave an irritated quork, only to relax when Hedwig decided to preen his feathers. An odd feeling having her so much larger than he, but not a bad thing.

He was decidedly not looking at Fawkes, the idiot. That phoenix somehow ended up upside down in the tree. The far older and more experienced flier, and somehow he’s the one that ended up stuck upside down. Though to be fair he might just be doing it to amuse himself and the fledgling raven. Still didn’t make it less of a strange sight. Eh, he should have no problem getting himself free when he wanted to.

Then something sparkled at the edge of his sight. Just there on the ledge nearby where one of the elves put it down. So temptingly close and shiny. The fledgling launched himself in the air and before he knew it, he was trying to snatch it up in his beak. With a sense of triumph he nabbed it and then jumped off the ledge wings pumping. He managed to make it a short distance away and landed on a bench.

Setting the shiny thing down he examined it. One of Arwen’s hair clasps. Twisting his head around he heard the shout and one of the twins was racing towards him. Interesting, what did they want with it? Either way it was his shiny thing now! He gave a loud quork as a laugh and then snatched it back up and launched himself in another direction flapping with all his might. Hearing the curse behind him as the elf arrived seconds too late inwardly he cackled.

This time he landed on a table still keeping a hold of the clasp. He gave a couple of lazy hops. At least until he spotted the other twin trying to ‘sneak’ up on him. Silly elf, he gave a couple more innocent hops before once more taking flight. This was starting to be all sorts of fun. Oh, maybe he could get them to run into each other. He led them on a zigzagging course. Short hops so that he didn’t lose them, but neither did they keep up entirely.

What was really funny was that they had attracted attention. He could see people stopping to watch the odd game of chase he instigated. It was fairly obvious the twins caught on to it as well as some of their attempts to ‘catch’ him got more elaborate. Apparently one of their goals was just to make people laugh, or maybe keep things from getting too dull. Either way they had drawn a crowd. The problem was that he was starting to get tired out, so there needed to be a good way to end this game. Then he spotted a familiar face.

With one last burst of speed he dodged the twins and clumsily landed in front of Arwen. He held up the hair clasp and she knelt down. “Now what do you have there?” When she put her hand out he obediently dropped it into it. Just as the twins caught up, the second almost ran into the first as they stopped suddenly.

“Quork.”

“Well thank you my friend for returning that for me, I appreciate it.” Arwen gave the raven a sweet smile, then turned that same smile on to her brothers. “It seems someone, or someones, have been in my things.” Deciding discretion was called for here, both elves turned tail and fled to the fledglings quorking laughter. It was nice all the practice flying paid off. Totally worth it just to do that.

Still crouched down, Arwen offered the fledgling her arm. “I think that deserves a special treat, I’m sure we can find something tasty for you to snack on.” Well he was hungry after all that work so he managed a flap and hop landing on her forearm. Carefully she rose to her feet, raising her arm so he was in a good position to transfer to her shoulder. He quorked again and then tried to preen her hair like he saw Hedwig doing. A clumsy attempt but she laughed and started walking towards the kitchen.

“Anytime you manage to do that to my brothers there will be treats in it for you.” Heck he would have just done it for the pure fun of it. But this might be a great way to team up for future mischief so he quorked agreeably. There were chuckles as the elves that had paused to watch the chase went back about their business.

**

“That was quite the chase you led those two on earlier.” The gray clad Istari’s voice broke through Gilriant’s focus and he looked up from the book he was reading. The elfling blinked and looked up. “Chase?” Mithrandir sat down on a bench by him with a chuckle. “Oh a clever deception and I have no doubt it will take awhile for most to pick up on your little trick.” The elfling watched the wizard warily. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“But I am not most people. For one, ravens do not have green eyes, not even as fledglings. There was also the white feather on the head, right above the right eye.” He paused considering. “Of course there is the fact your Aunt was turned into a bird at one point.” Mithrandir had obviously been told about all of his lineage if he was bringing that up. He supposed she was technically his Aunt.

Now Gilriant’s voice turned dry. “You mean the elf that abandoned her children in order to hold on to stolen property? That one? I struggle to understand why a shiny rock was more important than children. You know if she had just given it over that the Oath would be dismantled by now.” Stymied, Gandalf paused before continuing “Ah, yes, that did happen didn’t it.”

Seeing how this interruption would likely interfere with him getting back to what he was studying he closed the book. “Is there a point to this conversation?” The elfling inquired in a polite tone. The wizard raised his eyebrows looking at Gilriant. “You are the most unusual child.”

Giving him a false polite smile that was all teeth he inclined his head. “Yes well, I am certainly not a typical elfling now am I? If that was all, I have a book to read for Erestor.” Harry started to open the book back up again.

“That was a rather poor choice of words on my part, I apologize.” Gandalf sighed, taking his hat off and setting it on the bench. “I had hoped to ease some of the tension between us. It appears I am failing rather badly.” The elfling just gave him a look. “Yes quite I am obviously going about this incorrectly. Hmmm.” With a little shrug Gilriant turned back towards his book as the istari thought it over.

“Were you aware your ancestor Melian was quite popular with birds?” The elfling paused at that, turning his head back towards Mithrandir. “She actually taught nightingales how to sing.” At the skeptical look he continued. “It's true! She was known for her wisdom, beauty and magical singing.”

Now that caught the elfling’s attention. “She was a magical singer?” True, he didn't know terribly much about this maia ancestor of his. But if she was known for magical singing, that might be why the maia part of him was reportedly strengthened. “That she was, quite skilled, none better than her.” Gilriant slowly closed his book. He knew what the wizard was doing. Yet, he could find no fault for the istari trying to befriend him. Harry would just make sure to never forget his hard won lessons.

Seeing that he now had the young one’s attention, Mithrandir launched into stories about Melian and her gifts.

***

The Hall of Fire is where most elves gathered in the evening. Full of song and good company. Sometimes poetry, and sometimes it was people laughing and dancing. It was one of Gilriant’s favorite places in Imladris. Just full of so much joy and light. Rarely was anyone ever stressed there, instead a place of comfort. Okay he’s rarely seen anyone stressed in Imladris at all, but that seemed doubly true for the Hall of Fire. What made it even better was listening to Magor play. Having the privilege of being tucked by his side

What Gilriant was not expecting, when someone asked a story from him. The elfling just blinked at the ellon before asking. “You want me to tell you the story I know about the Oath and what it did?”

“Yes.” Impossible to judge how old this particular elf was, they could have either lived then, or known someone that was affected by the kinslayings. “It has been said that the High King told you.” The elfling tilted his head, studying the elf that asked. It wasn’t a request made in malice. From what he tell, they genuinely wanted to know. Or perhaps it was that they wanted to make sure they had the correct version. For whatever reason they wanted it, it wasn’t like he was against it.

A pool of quiet had started to spread around him. When it looked like some of the family might have interrupted with a comment, he looked at them and gave a little shake of his head no. Then refocused on the ellon in front of him. “As you wish. I will not speak it word for word, but what I say is true to what was told me. Hear now the tale given to me by the High-King Gil-Galad of his understanding of the Tragedy of the House of Feanor.” By now the young one had the focus of the entire hall.

There was a faint widening of eyes as the firelight gleamed brightly off the circlet on the elfling’s head. It was somehow casting a faint rainbow shimmer. The young one’s voice held just the hint of greater depth as they began the tale.

“What is often forgotten, or overlooked, was that while yes the pride of Feanor played a part of his destruction, so did the corruption of Melkor.” There was a faint twitch here and there at the choice of names for that fallen Vala. If the elfling saw it, they gave no sign, just continued ahead.

“He wanted to take the Silmarils, the three gems created by Feanor with light captured from the two trees for himself. He also wanted to try and drive a wedge between elf and the ainur, and set elf against elf. He wanted to set them at odds and thus more vulnerable to him. So insidious were the words he whispered, and so great is the cost of pride that it worked. Distrust brewed in the hearts of elves and misunderstanding widened the gap between them. Then the corrupt one struck, killing Finwe and once more stealing away the light of the trees. Morgoth took the jewels and set them in his crown.

“Grief, rage, and pride. These were behind words that spread from Feanor, ones that were infected by the lies of Morgoth. Spreading further dissent. This is when the oath was spoken, promising violence to any that withheld the Silmarils from the House of Feanor. Spoken by their creator and his seven sons. Then Morgoth got what he wished for. He helped set elf against elf, and elf against the wishes of the Valar.

“Destruction reigned as they fought to try and retrieve the jewels, and the unthinkable happened. Bound by their words, unable to break free from the oath that they made, when elves stood in their way, those elves were slain. The oath did indeed bind them tightly. So tightly that once they made the choice to speak the words, they could chart no other course. The oath itself would not allow it, for words have power, and not all power is good.

“As for the Silmarils, they had sat in the crown of Morgoth, absorbing his corruption. So when stolen from him, the ones who took them, were infected by the same greed. For I can think of no other reasons why elves would keep stolen goods and go to such lengths to possess them. Three times great kinslayings occurred, and yet the Oath has not been abated. For only two were at any point, again in Feanorian hands.

“For now they hang in balance. One once given to the Valar who purified and tasked an elf to carry it across the night sky. One now lays deep under the waters, washed clean in Ulmo’s domain. The last was dropped in fire, and now lays deep in the ground. This is the tale as it was told to me, and tasted to be true by the Balance.” The youngling was utterly focused on their tale and the ellon in front of them. So they missed those that reacted to their choice of words. “Yet, there is one more thing that needs to be said.”

Maglor knew, when the Keeper reached towards him, what they wanted. While he wasn’t overly thrilled about attention being drawn to himself he did as requested and extended out his hand. “ A promise was made, to protect, guard and guide. To value family above any shiny stone. That is the strongest oath that any can make.” The elfling gently took the hand and showed the bard’s unmarred palm and fingers. “One that was accepted by and strengthened by Eru. Wiping away the burns once made by those aforementioned jewels. The Oath lays quiet, and hopefully one day the House of Feanor will be healed and made whole.”

The elfling sagged, leaning towards his Atar and stifling a yawn. The bard instantly shifted to wrap his arms around Gilriant. “Besides, my uncles Elured and Elurin decided it's not a simple manner. What matters most is what we do now. Plus,” he grinned over at Elrond. “Feanorians can’t be all bad, I think my brother is pretty awesome and he was raised by them.”

The ellon inclined his head towards Gilriant. “My thanks for the tale.” Moving off he settled leaning on the wall by Glorfindel. The golden-haired captain raised an eyebrow at him. “Well, that is one way to introduce yourself to him Gildor.”

Gildor just smiled, “I wanted to see it for myself. I’m sure Elrond will forgive me later. It's a tale that needs to be shared.” Glorfindel shook his head with a smile. “Probably, I’d be more worried about Haldir if I were you. He’s the young one’s teacher and if he thinks you drew that out on purpose he will want to have words with you.”

The ellon hummed in response. “Is he now, well that’s interesting.”

***

Gilriant slowly drifted up from the soft depth of slumber to someone holding him and softly singing. Not that unusual but this time it was not his Atar. Still he recognized the voice. “Brother?” Yawning he shifted but didn’t pull away yet. It felt nice, like something warm washing over him. Again not an unfamiliar feeling. “M’fine.”

The song drew to a close. “You have a strange definition of fine. But I suppose I should be used to that by now. Either way you will be eventually I will make sure of it.” A long standing discussion between the two of them. The Lord of Imladris was an accomplished healer of all kinds of injuries. Gilriant liked to think if he wasn’t bleeding then he was fine. And even sometimes when he was bleeding he was fine. His brother of course disagreed.

“I wasn’t reaching.” Gilriant explained. “It was reaching for me. Haldir says that happens sometimes. As long as it's only for a short time and I have an anchor nearby it’s fine. But not let it happen often. It means something is needed.” Still a bit drowsy he felt perfectly fine just staying where he was. Plus he knew Elrond loved it when he did. “So Haldir would have stopped it if it was bad or hurting me.”

Apparently Gilriant had a lot of faith in the marchwarden. Not a bad thing. The more people he was likely to open up to, the easier it would make Elrond’s job as a healer. “As long as you promise that if it does hurt, you come see me.” A grumbled agreement was his answer. “Go back to sleep little brother.” He gently admonished. At the whine he just chuckled and started to sing a lullaby he had used on his children, and one that Atar had sung to him. Regardless of the circumstances, it was nice when Gilriant let himself act like the age he was.

***

Galadrial moved about the room, carefully picking items and adding them to a pack. She gave a few a critical look before moving on to the next. Celeborn walked into the room looking around with a faintly amused air. “Are you going somewhere?”

“Yes, and you can come too if you like. Between the attack on our daughter, Haldir deciding to stay there even temporarily, and the other rumors I think now is a good time.” Watching his wife move around, Celeborn knew better than to try to argue against it.

“So you will arrive months early for the meeting Elrond set up? I know you are not fond of not being able to look into Imladris from the outside because of their wards. Still I would think if it was important that we be there early they would have sent word.” Ignoring his words she just moved about the room gathering their things and putting them in packs.

“Don’t you want to get there before Thranduil does? He so rarely leaves the Greenwood.” At that statement Celeborn paused. Then shaking his head he went to help her. Once his wife made her mind up, rarely could it be shifted. This seemed harmless enough to get along with.

“As you wish. However you will be the one responsible for telling Elrond why we are so early.”

***

“I am sorry my King, we were unable to trap any of the creatures.” Thranduil frowned as he listened. “If I may, it was almost like they seemed, amused by our efforts.” Not entirely unexpected that they were unable to catch the wolves. They were hampered by his orders to not use anything that would require them to close with the beasts. Nor did they have any cause to do harm to the creatures yet.

“Amused? How so?” The elleth hesitated and then explained. “They pulled apart the one trap and were playing with it. Tugging it back and forth between them.” Not only avoiding the traps, but finding them and pulling them apart? That spoke of some sort of intelligence and he was getting more irritated. Not with the scout though. “Anything else about them you observed?”

“Their behavior my King. It was not unlike a scouting party sweeping an area checking it. Though we did not see them find anything. I have never seen any animal act quite like it.” Thranduil murmured softly, “No, I would think you would have.” Then louder. “That is all, you are dismissed.”

Sitting back he contemplated the turn of events. No matter if the creatures had not offered harm, the fact that they were still in the Greenwood was a concern. Sometimes there were reports of them splitting into pairs, others working together as a group. This was getting beyond irritating.

“Ada.” Thranduil turned to look at his son. “I think she was right that they were playing with it.” The King sat back and looked at Legolas, who had started to have a distinctly guilty cast to his expression.

“Tell me you did not disobey and get close to those beasts,” The flat statement only had Legolas looking even guiltier.

“I did not intend to. I had spotted a patch of flowers I have only ever seen in our gardens and wanted to get a closer look.”

“What flower?”

“The red ones, the fire lilies.” Thranduil’s gaze went sharp and intense. “Are you sure?” Legolas nodded, “As sure as I could be without picking one to bring back. I decided with the uncertainty it might not be wise to touch it.” At least his son did have some good sense. “What happened?”

“I looked up and there were four of them in front of me. I did look around but only saw that number. Strange that they never tried to encircle me.” Thranduil gestured for him to continue. “I saw no signs of hostility. It was odd, one of them bent down in front of me, almost like a bow and dropped a stick. I did not touch it!” Legolas was quick to add at another sharp look from his father. “When I didn’t move it picked it up, backed up and then forward again dropping it. When I did nothing it moved to get closer to me. Only for the largest to stop it, pinning it in place. It whined and when freed rolled on to its back.”

“They moved no closer to you?” A sense of relief swept through him at Legolas’s answer. “No Ada. After that the one that tried and was stopped, it just pounced on another one of the wolves. They looked like they were playing.” This was the first time Thranduil had heard of any of them approaching any elf outside of an incident with the orcs. Even then they had only attacked those foul beasts and once they were dead left the area. “And after?”

“They just left. I took to the trees and made sure I did not see any more below me.” There was one more factor to consider. “Did the trees react at all?” Their voices had been stronger as of late. Yes a thing to be joyful of, but Thranduil kept his wariness of it. “If anything they seemed welcoming, no alarm at all.”

While the information remained positive, they still did not know what or who was behind it. New creatures did not just suddenly come into being without someone being behind it. Thranduil’s mind shifted to the correspondence. “I do think Elrond’s meeting needs to be moved up. In fact, why don’t you go pack for a trip to Imladris. We will both be going.”

Legolas inclined his head. “Of course, I will send a message to let them know we are coming early.” Thranduil waved a hand in the air. “No need. I will send one when we are on our way.” The younger elf looked surprised, then resigned. “You aren’t going to warn them are you.” The king smirked. “Oh I will indeed send them a message, when we are about a day’s ride away. Plenty of time for them to be ready but not enough to be able to hide anything of importance from us." Then his expression turned stern. “Someone is hiding the truth from us. I will know what it is.”

Legolas knew that look on his father’s face. This was the King defending his people. One that had made up his mind and would not be moved. There would be little to no point trying to dissuade him from this course. To a certain extent he agreed with it. “I do believe they are used to surprises and chaos there anyways with Lord Elrond’s sons.”