Dragon Moon - Chapter 4:- Changing
Through the passing years, Morinvala grew. Her thoughts and feelings extended, and her beauty flourished. Many Moriquendi seeked her out to court her, but she denied them all. For within her mind, locked away, secret, was the night of her parent's murder. It stayed with her, playing continuously within her mind, haunting and tormenting. Vivid dreams and nightmares plagued her, leaving her daunting and exhausted.
Raelin, however, was crowned Ruler, and carried on the line of royalty. His once childish face grew leathery and worn, the face of a noble King. Upon their recent assassination attempts, he began to build his army. For the Noldor could not forget that fateful night. Terrified and angry they were, sending masses of forces to bring back the head's of Raelin and Morinvala. Sweeping them down, in a murderous plague, did Morinvala stop them. For her power grew stronger and she became wiser as she drew nearer to her Coming of Age.
Morinvala cloaked herself in the shadows of the castle. Her dark hooded figure swept closely against the walls until she was passed the gates. Her bare feet padded softly against the sharp stones of the gravel. Her breath came out in clouding in a light grey amongst the beams of light in the chilly dawn. As she passed through the village, sleepy and still, she came, at last, to her destination. The wide, desolate plains of Lothlann.
Something had drawn her awake, gratefully away from the sweat-soaked nightmare of her thoughts and dreams. She gazed out across, what was aptly named, the March of Maedhros. The battle had only happened 100 years before, but something was coming, something terrible, and soon. Morinvala's eyes fell upon a shape in the distance, a deep shadowed figure. Her curiousity struck her and she started towards it, tiredless and awake.
It was high Noon before she reached the March, she glanced behind her, the only thing in sight was the glistening of the High Tower of the Castle. Her brother would soon learn of her absence, and would send out Guard's for her. She did not want to go back, she could not go back. Morinvala turned back around, a sudden gust of Wind swept her hood back, she blinked in sudden blindness and gasped.
As her sight regained the figure she had gazed upon in the early light of dawn, was now standing in front of her. His silver hair swept around him as his seductive, thoughtful eyes pulled Morinvala into an enchantment. He held out his hand and grasped Morinvala's gently. She remained silent as he led her along, pass the March of Maedhros and into the hills of Himlad, toward Nan Elmoth.
Small beams of light penetrated the marble floors of the Throne Room. Raelin paced restlessly back and forth, the servants watching him uneaily. Raelin's eyes passed the sight where his parent's bodies had lain, the floor was painted with blood. Raelin stopped and blinked furiously, he looked again and the blood was gone, leaving the light, smooth marble texture. Raelin looked up as the Captain of the Guard's entered the Room, the door swinging back heavily, falling into the wall behind it with a large wooden Thud.
Raelin winced at the sound, his tired eyes staring at the approaching Elf. He kneeled before Raelin, and then stood upright.
"I am sorry your majesty, there is no sign of her."
"Are you certain?"
"We have searched the City over, there is no sign, no witness, nothing."
Raelin stepped back and sighed heavily, falling onto the soft, inviting cushions of his Throne.
"What are we to do Nathlom?" Raelin looked up at his faithful guard, the look in his eyes filled Nathlom with dread, it was the look of defeat.
"Please, my King. Do not give up, she will return in time." Nathlom spoke earnestly, glancing at the servants around them who nodded in agreement.
"Will she?" Raelin whispered, the Hall remained silent. Raelin knew of his sister's dream's, for he too was plagued with the nightmarish brutality that the Noldorian guards had inflicted on his parent's. The echoe of his mother's cries, the bloody confrontation between his sister and the Noldor, his sister's heart-wrenching sobs. Raelin closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to hold down what was beginning to rise in his throat. Memories, painful ghostly memories.
"Arien has taken leave, and Tilion is nigh, we must rest."
The stranger set Morinvala upon the earth, he strayed a little, gathering together wooden logs. Morinvala watched his every move, her will was not of hers anymore. For the power of enchantment was stronger than she could control or disregard. The stranger, arms clad in colours of brown and black, returned. He set the wood down and began to arrange them. He lifted his hand over the wood and spoke, words that Morinvala could not understand, and a flicker was produced on an ember.
The stranger smiled at her and slowly started around the fire. He sat before her and stared at her coolly, many hours passed before he spoke again. His hand fell softly upon Morinvala's skin, "Dearest one, we will be together. The two of us as one, entwined in the fabrics of Life, tonight. We will not take life, but give it."
Morinvala stared at him strangely, unable to comprehend his actions in his speech. A black veil was dropped over her eyes, and she cried out in sudden blindness. She could neither see, feel nor here what was happening around her. In her mind, her arms flailed wildly, but outside, they remained steady and unmoving. A sudden blow was forced upon her and she fell into a deep sleep...
Author's Note: Just to let you know, this is set at the end of the First Age in Beleriand, before its destruction.