|
Disclaimer: You’re gonna make me say it, aren’t you? Sigh…
Oh very well. I own nothing of
Tolkien’s, New Line’s, or of Peter Jackson’s.
I don’t own Legolas, but Ivy Tanté and I DO share an elven harem of
muses… Or rather, they share us. It’s complicated; don’t try to figure it out,
please. I don’t want you to hurt
yourselves. Also, I’m just a poor,
overworked and underpaid state employee, so please, please, PLEASE don’t sue! I have no money. Rated PG.
October 2003. Author’s notes: Though I believe this fic can be read alone,
it is a companion piece to my fic “Shatter Me Not”. Many thanks to those who reviewed Shatter; I
have never received such a wonderful response to anything I have written on my
own, or with anyone else. I can only
hope that you will all enjoy this little fic half as much. Thanks again!! NEVER MY SOUL
BY
KAHVA Elessar… Get
out of my mind, Bane. Elessar… I
said get out of my mind!! I
know what you would have me do. I saw
how you tempted Legolas, though he has yet to speak of his ordeal to anyone,
much less admit to the pain that you undoubtedly caused. How much you must surely have tormented him… Tortured
him, you did. Yes, I saw what you did to
him. I don’t know what you did, but I saw
what you did. You invaded his mind,
tried to twist his soul… Did you wish to
defile his body and soul with your malevolent touch? You would have delighted in the drinking of
his fëa, wouldn’t you? Are the pure spirits of the elves like miruvóre to you? Is
that why your Master’s despicable Orcs yearn to taste the flesh of Elves more
than that of any other being in Arda? Is
that why they wish to slake their terrible thirst with the lifeblood of the
Firstborn? It is not just that once,
long ago, their forebears had been Elves?
Pure, happy and bright creatures they were, until your Master tortured
and mutilated their beautiful, perfect bodies and souls into hideous
blasphemies of Ilúvatar’s creation. They
have inherited your Master’s lust for blood and power. Those disgusting spawns of evil mindlessly
follow their obscene father, like naïve, trusting, unquestioning sons and
daughters, never once realizing that he cares not whether they live or
die. Their deaths mean naught to him, so
long as he has followers, servants and slaves to replace each one that
falls. Beings that by choice, or by
force, will carry out his orders without a moment’s hesitation. Just
as you yourself obey his every dark whim, Isildur’s Bane. You are just as much his slave as any poor
wretch imprisoned deep within the bowels of Barad-Dûr. Unlike
those poor souls, however, you do not deserve pity or compassion from anyone. Yes,
I know what you would have me do. I can
feel your power tempting me. You are
just like your Master, though you would have me believe otherwise. Part of him is bound within you, which is why
he is still alive, and why he seeks to reclaim you. He desires to regain his physical form; he
desires domination over all of Arda. He
seeks to subjugate all of Ilúvatar’s children, Firstborn, Secondborn – all of
Ilúvatar’s children, and all of the innocent creatures that live here. He
desires to bathe this world in our blood.
He seeks to unleash an unholy flood of death and chaos both here and
then in Valinor, if he can. He wishes for Ilúvatar to drown in the blood of his beloved children, to suffocate from the weight of their pain and anguish. You
desire this as well. Do not even try to
deny it! You
cannot deny it. You
are a part of him… therefore all your desires are his, and his alone are
yours. This is reason enough in itself
to not hearken to your perverse call. But
you have gone too far. Oh, my dark and
cruel friend, you have gone too far!! You
promise me that Arwen will never die, even if she forsakes her Elven heritage
to cleave unto me. You promise me that
my brothers, Elladan and Elrohir will not be harmed by any minion of Sauron’s
who may come upon them. You promise me
that the brother of my heart, Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood, shall never hear the
call to sail. You swear that he shall
forever remain happy and carefree, never torn between this world and the
Undying Lands. You
promise me that all of Arda shall be peaceful under my rule, and the rule of my
sons. You promise me sons, yet no
daughters? Do you think a true father
would love a daughter less than a son? I
would like to see you try and convince Lord Elrond of that. Ada…
Ai, but that is the cruelest
promise of all with which you seek to tempt me.
You promise me that he will approve of the union between Arwen and
myself without reservation. You seek to pervert the relationship that we
have had all these years, the bond of family chosen, the ties of distant
relation between Elf and Man… The
love between a father and his son. The
love of a father for his only daughter.
He seeks to protect her from strife, grief and pain in the only way he
knows how, and you wish to sully that precious love?! Oh,
now you seek to seduce me with the promise that none shall come to harm on our
quest, if I will only listen to your council.
You seek to sway me with a thinly veiled threat against our Fellowship! Do you think I place so little faith in the
abilities of my fellows to protect themselves and each other? Do
you think I believe for a single solitary moment that you would keep any of
them safe from harm? Do
you think I actually believe that you will keep any vow you make in this
attempt at seduction, save for your unspoken promise of a cold, agonizing death
to all who dare to hold a light to Sauron’s darkness? Do
not try to tempt me with promises of absolute power… I do not desire this power, I have never
desired it. Absolute power is no vice of
mine. You
would do well to remember that, my silver-tongued friend. You
clothe yourself in the provocative silks of domination, control, power… You
prostitute yourself to me in vain, One Ring of Power. Strip off your sheep’s disguise and reveal
yourself for the rabid wolf you truly are. Your
words taste of wine and honey. Your
words are poison! I
am Estel, son of Lord Elrond. I am the
brother of Elladan and Elrohir Elrondion.
I am he whose heart belongs to Arwen, the Evenstar. I am brother of the soul to Legolas, Prince
of Mirkwood. I am Thorongil. I am Strider, Ranger of the North. I am he that shall be Elessar. My house shall be known as Telcontar, should
I choose to take the destiny I was born to.
I am one of the Fellowship of the Ring, one of the Nine Companions. I
am many things to many people… but I am not
Isildur. Never doubt or forget this fact, One Ring of Sauron. I
am Aragorn, son of Arathorn… and though it may claim my life, you shall never
have my soul, Isildur’s Bane. I name you
Harlot of Sauron, and I banish you from my heart forever. I am loyal to Frodo the Ringbearer, to my
friends and companions, my family, my people, both Elf-kind and Man, and to the
Quest. You
have no power over me. Ada – Father, or Daddy Ai – Ah! or Alas! miruvóre - mead, a special wine or cordial, literally: drink of
the Valar fëa – spirit
|
