Legacy of the Dispossessed {DISCONTINUED}

Banished

We trudged through the outskirts of Lorien in the evening twilight. We had come down from the foothills of the Misty Mountains, putting Moria - and Mithrandir - behind us. After crossing a large plain with quite a bit of looking over our shoulders, we had arrived in the green and gold wood of Lorien.

"Did you know I've met Lorien?" I softly said to Legolas. My embarrassment of wearing his house braid had not faded.

Legolas nearly missed a step. "Lorien?" he hissed in surprise. "The Lorien? Irmo?" I nodded distractedly.

"When my father stood before the Ring of Doom." I was silent for a while remembering the faces of the Valar, terrible yet beautiful. "He spoke to me afterward, you know. Told me I would be a-a hero someday."

"What's he like?" Legolas asked.

"Who?" Boromir jumped in.

"Lorien," I tell him. "You know... Irmo. Namo's brother. He... he's hard to describe." I gave a short laugh. "All the Valar are, I guess. He has long, flowing silver hair when he wished to take a form." I indicated my waist. "With these grey eyes that just seem to bore into your soul. And he's tall, very tall. Taller than an elf can be, obviously. His face is sharp-edged but ageless, and..." I sighed. "I just can't describe him. He's just... just so there." I shook my head. "You two probably think I'm crazy, don't you?"

Boromir shook his head vigorously. "That's wonderful! Damn it, you've met Valar!" I smiled.

"What's Manwë like?" Legolas asked. I raised my eyebrows.

"He's, well, majestic. Taller than the rest of the Valar, with a powerful voice and bearing." I sighed. "He has jet-black hair that is always tied back but flutters in wind. His eyes are blue, darker than Legolas's, though." I nodded in his direction. "He's always surrounded in a wind, and an eagle sits on his shoulder. He carries a staff topped with a crystal and wears kingly robes."

"Wow," Boromir breathed. I smiled at him.

"They cursed you, didn't they?" Legolas asked softly. "The Valar cursed you." I shook my head.

"Mandos did. And not just me... many Noldor." With my next step, I hit something where there should've been air. I inhaled sharply and stepped back, looking up.

"What is that?" Aragorn hissed at me. I looked over.

"It looks like my dear cousin has learned from Melian." I sighed. "She's made a Girdle." I took a deep breath and stepped through. I heard a fizzling sound, and my skin tingled when I passed through, but I remained unharmed. I nodded. "I thought so. She didn't make it so only Elves could pass." I turned to the rest of the Fellowship. "The good at heart may pass." I beckoned at them. "Though how it let me pass, I do not know," I said under my breath.

I felt my hair as we progressed forward and sighed in relief. I had half expected to find my usual Feanor braid there. Instead, the Oropher braid was behind my ear.

Gimli gathered Merry and Pippin close to him. "Stay close, young hobbits!" he whispered. They say that a great sorceress lives in these woods, an Elf-witch, of terrible power. All who look upon her, fall under her spell and are never seen again." I snorted. He certainly got the witch part right. Though the part about her looks... not so much. "Well, here is one Dwarf she won't ensnare so easily. I have the eyes of a hawk and the ears of a fox!"

A notched arrow appeared in front of his face. "Oh..." he said, looking around. In just a few seconds, we were surrounded by a small group of wood-elves, holding ready bows. Legolas nocked an arrow and looked around, not entirely sure where to aim it. A golden-haired elf came through the rank of archers that surrounded us and looked us over.