NIENNA

Author: Tammy ([email protected])

Ratings and Warnings: Rated R, no spoilers, angst, violence, adult situations

Summary: An A/U… She was said to be one of the greatest beauties on Middle Earth, or so he had heard. Haldir will soon discover for himself what awaits him by the sea when he accompanies the Lord and Lady of Lothlórien to the island of Cirana to visit its king and his daughter.

Pairings: Haldir/OC (Het. Romance)

Disclaimer: Firstly, and most importantly… for legal purposes of course, I do not own any of the characters, places, plots, etc., created by the masterful J.R.R. Tolkien in book-land or movie-verse… they’re just too wonderful for words! Those that I make up however, are my own, and are not to be used without my permission.

A/N: I do love feedback and suggestions, but in a constructive, not demeaning manner.

Betas: Lastly, and definitely not to be forgotten, are the wonderful people who strive to make your story as wonderful as you want it to be. A big thanks to the people responsible for keeping me in line, my beta pals; fellow HL List-Mom Amy B., Vi, Christen, and Carole, a personal friend whom I’ve been trying to recruit over to Haldir!!! You’re all the absolute best of the best, for without your inspiration and encouragement, this story might never have taken its wings and flown!!!

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PROLOGUE

Wells and Water…

Someone had once said that no land was truly safe from harm; from the evils, whether seen or unseen, that wandered the darkest shadows of Middle Earth, and yet safe was her home, a true, inviolable paradise.

Though she had only seen her abode from within, she had heard it described as the Lonely Isle, the city of snow and tears, by those who had witnessed its splendor from across the long swept waterway. Rugged snow capped mountains floored with golden sandy beaches, mingled with winding ribbons of clear waterfalls and shimmering lagoons. Misty sprays carrying high on the constant breeze of sea air, casting a crescent of vivid color in the early morning and late day sunshine. Puncturing up from beneath, deep, glossy grasses and velvety moss covered the hillsides in a sweeping kaleidoscope of varying scented hues of brilliant purple, red and pink wildflowers, native to only her isle.

No treetop homes like her far away kin, but instead white marble structures sprinkled along majestic, rocky cliffs overlooking the foreboding waters crashing inward from far below. Her father had built an impenetrable fortress for his people, ensuring their safety right down to the most minuscule details. Surrounded by the dark, churning sea, there was only one way in and one way out. Those who had tried to breach the city’s boundaries met their crushing doom in a sickening twist of body and limb, finally relinquishing to the sweet surrender of death among the violent torrents of barrier waves and jagged reefs.

On the highest jagged peak sat the largest of all the white stone palaces. It belonged to their leader, King Cirdani. A relic of high-elven kingship, his name was legendary yet elusive to all, including his own kin from the main shores, for in fact few had ever set eyes on him. He was a king of great fairness and love to his subjects. He who appeared more content to rule his realm until his call to the seas beyond, unconcerned with the perils of Middle Earth and its inhabitants. After all, the Dark Force’s dirty fingers had not reached Cirana; its rare beauty remained, as always, pure and unspoiled.

In the courtyard of the royal castle sat the daughter of King Cirdani; his most treasured possession, and as such, his most guarded. Even fewer had been graced with her presence, yet her name carried farther than the rolls of all high tides. Almost of mythical proportions, her great beauty had transcended as divine as the Lady of the Golden Wood. She was the darkness of night as the Lady was the light of day. Purported in tales of wonder to be so magnificent, a delicate celestial being of the Gods and Goddesses of the highest heavens, that like the Lady, the fair princess emanated a soft flowing aura and the freshness of the calling seas themselves. In the greatest depths of her eyes, time stood forever still and content. In her voice, all things too wonderful to be heard and trumpeted, called from all four corners of Middle Earth and beyond. And for those who dared to stare upon her visage long enough would surely turn to stone.

The king’s most loved and sacred – his only child, the perfect replication of a mother lost in the finality of elven death while giving the princess life, languished in a beautiful prison of loneliness and despair.

As she sat by the late queen’s wishing well, lost in deep thought, she was reminded of the many tales of wonderment told to her by her most trusted and beloved wet nurse when she was younger. Glorious tales of wishes come true by those most deserving. Long years slowly passed and the little one grew older, but the fables still existed in her mind, keeping her company when alone. The princess yearned to emerge herself in life’s strange and illustrious adventures, making them solely her own. With closed eyes and wistful thoughts, she fed the well countless times, praying that salvation would grant her leave from her gilded cage. This above all else, to be her most fervent wish and by far her most hopeless…

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In my slender hand I turn a small, smooth stone over with my nimble fingers, leaving behind a slight sheen of pale dust in my palm. Each tiny shard I imagine to be all the places my horse will carry me abroad – to lands I have never seen nor have even heard of. And the many creatures I may see along the way, so different from the fair elves; mankind, dwarves, and even small childlike-beings called hobbits! Little do I know of each race, for I have never been past the boundaries of my own realm, not even to the mainland homes of my kin. I sigh as I peer upwards, realizing another day has come and gone. With glistening eyes, I turn back to the well, worrying my bottom lip in deep contemplation. ‘Wishes are granted only to those most deserving…’ the whisper reminds me. I draw one last shaky breath of confidence and hold it there, pushing all other thoughts away, except one.

I raise my trembling hand to my mouth as if to seal it with a kiss, squeezing my eyes tightly shut I pitch the tiny pebble into the water, at last releasing the wish from my despaired mind…

It vexes me that I, born to elven royalty – one who has lived a far less arduous life than most, seem unable to feel true happiness or joy. Though to look at me with pity, that is not what I wish nor have I ever sought. For more than anything I am proud. But in the dark recesses of my soul, hidden to all, I crave life outside my home’s walls… to feel freedom that which completes me. While heavy is the love I feel for my father and my kingdom, of this I am certain, a new place in this world calls to me from the most desperate corners of my mind. And even greater is what is shielded from me the most – a commanding presence that beckons me whilst I rest in meditated slumber. I know that he is my salvation from the devastating loneliness that pools around my heart, twisting and coiling from me my very life. But who is he that visits me when I am most vulnerable? Where is he? Never have I seen his face nor felt his touch, yet still he comforts me in such a manner so indescribable that I find myself rejoicing when I enter the resplendent illusion my mind has created especially for me.