Vaniel, My Heart

Chapter 1: Prologue - A Babe is Born
by Sienna Dawn
Disclaimer: All familiar characters are owned by JRR Tolkien and are used without permission. No monies are being made from this work. Original characters are part of the story and owned by the author.

Storyline......

"Do not wonder! For the children of Elrond have the life of the Eldar." Arwen Undomiel, "ROTK: The Tale of Aragorn and Arwen"

"But to the children of Elrond a choice was also appointed: to pass with him from the circles of the world; or if they remained, to become mortal and die in Middle Earth." From "ROTK: Appendix A: Numenorean Kings"

The lives of elves and men are ripe with tales of great sacrifice and undying love. Painted within the vast panorama of their lives are glimpses inside their worlds, and sometimes without benefit of details, events, names and places, save the glorious deeds of kings and princes. Yet, they too have their stories to tell, and the rich tapestry of their lives is woven with loving care for us to remember and re-tell.

This story begins at the end of the Third Age, some years before the War of the Rings, and ends after the death of Aragorn II, known as King Elessar. The elves continue their exodus to the West, marching steadfastly toward the shores of Middle Earth, passing over the sea, and taking the Straight Road to the Undying Lands.

Yet, some of the Eldar remained on Middle Earth, bound by ties so strong, that not even the call of the Sea could overcome them. Sacrificing themselves for the sake of loves so deep, their deeds were nearly unknown and unheralded by almost all. Almost all, save the Lords of the West, who watched the stalwart souls of the remaining Eldar, guiding them, loving them, protecting them.

This is the story of one such love, which drove unhesitant into the soul of an elven warrior whose spirit had hardened beyond the sweet call of another's heart.....or so he thought....
...And so the story begins where all stories must....at the beginning....

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Prologue - A Babe is Born

Summer, Third Age, Year 3002...somewhere near Dol Amroth

Low over the horizon, Earendil, beloved star of the elves, had begun its march across the heavens and twilight descended over Middle Earth.

From above, the World seemed peaceful, but below raged war, death and pestilence. Shadow and its allies plotted to bend all of Middle Earth to their will, hate and treachery in their hearts. Wars, and rumors of war, rent alliances, sundered families and destroyed the hope of many. Shadow moved over the land, voracious in its appetite for destruction.

The elves, whose hearts heard the call to the Sea and the Undying Lands, stayed their departure from the World for yet a little while longer. Still, some had already taken the Straight Road, while others, bound by the ties of love and fealty, compassion and sacrifice, remained. Yet, did the Valar watch the Eldalie, for deep was the sorrow of the elves at the prospect of leaving behind those they loved, and great were the sacrifices made for the sake of this love. Amidst the shadow and threat of war, lingered the magic touch of elven hands whose lands for the most part remained free. Yet even they too knew that their history upon Middle Earth was slowly nearing its conclusion. Within and without, the land, sky and rivers anticipated the fateful day when the elves would no more grace Middle Earth, and slowly the hearts of Men began to forget the ancient alliances.

It came to be that in the summer of his forty-seventh year a daughter was born in secret to Imrahil, a nobleman of Dol Amroth who would one day be its Prince. Although already wed with four children of his own bloodline, Imrahil also deeply loved an elf of high lineage and from her had begotten his fifth child. Forbidden by his advisors from claiming the babe as his own, news of the birth was kept out of the knowledge of Men as it was kept from the Elves.

Shortly after the babe's birth did her mother pass from the World. Imrahil, uncertain of his next step, wished to assure the child's safety, especially at such perilous times. Though he was himself descended from the Numenoreans and an ancient elven line, he still feared for the babe. Thus, he sent word to the old midwife who had helped many of the ladies of the court birth their own babes, and so between them was his child's fate settled.

And so, between them, and in great secret, was it decided that the old midwife should set from Dol Amroth and travel to the Druadan Forest, where still stood the ancient strongholds of her kinsmen, called Druedain by the elves. Thus, one dark night when the moon shone not, did the midwife take the babe, intent on gaining the ancient lands of her kin. But long is the arm of the Valar, as their plans for the babe lay elsewhere.

As the Valar carefully watched the unfolding events and before they could act, the arm of shadow inadvertantly and unwittingly labored in behalf of light and good.

They came upon the midwife and her companions as swiftly as a Summer storm, the dark bands of Orcs, attacking from all sides. Leaderless and without direction, did the foul rogue creatures roam the lands, searching for food and shelter, fleeing the troops of men and elves who hunted them without mercy.

Everyone was slain, except a small bundle of flesh who screeched and cried her terror. Amber-colored eyes turned to study the hairy creatures who took turns inspecting the babe they had found. Normally, the Orcs would have killed the child and left it, or toyed with it until they no longer had need for it. Luckily, they had had their bellies' full hours before, or they would have devoured the hapless babe. Still, even in their thick Orc brains did they know the child may be a commodity to trade with the passing bands of Goblins they had encountered earlier. The babe for a bauble or two. To them it seemed reasonable, and taking the squirming, screaming newborn, did they set off for the realms of Moria.

It was here, close to the ancient Dwarf realms, that the Orcs trespassed into Elven lands and there were slain by an elven scouting party from Lothlorien. Finding the babe unharmed, the elves were amazed that it had survived this long in the hands of the foul creatures. Realizing the infant was half-elven, the scouts set off for the Golden Wood and there was the fate of the babe once again pondered upon. And although the elves made discreet inquiries as to the identity of the child, nothing of her true origins was ever discovered. All that was known were the things the elves observed about the babe. She bore elven features, and a star-like birthmark on her left arm, a mark, some said, characteristic of an elven family long sundered from the Eldar. That she was highborn was obvious, as evidenced by the rich, costly fabrics in which she had been swaddled.

After a time, the elves ceased their discreet investigations into the mystery and welcomed the child as one of their own. And although her true name was never discovered, did the elves come to fondly call her Vaniel.

Within weeks of the Orc attack did Imrahil come to suspect the child had not reached the Druedain, but knew not how to discreetly discover her fate without revealing her existance. So it came upon Imrahil's thoughts that the child was dead, and his heart lay heavy within him. And so, Imrahil silently grieved and eventually turned his face away from the babe and directed his attention to his duties.

And in this did the Valar show compassion, and cursed not Imrahil, for they knew his heart was true and noble. And thus was accomplished one small portion of the will of the Lords of the West.

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Key:

Lords of the West = The Valar

Disclaimer: All familiar characters are owned by JRR Tolkien and are used without permission. No monies are being made from this work.
Graphics copyrighted Cari Buziak
Banner artwork from Ophelia by JWW Waterhouse.