Melting a Heart of Ice

Triina laughed as music played all around her, and Théoden’s men danced and sang while the faeries joined in, hovering around their heads, or dancing on their hands, heads, and shoulders. Gimli had two playing hide and seek in his hair and beard, and Aragorn was laughing with her as he was pulled by twelve faeries to dance with them. Merry was having the time of his life as coloured lights glowed in the sky above them and she was pushed into Legolas’ arms to dance with him as he pulled her close, laughing as well.

Joy filled her heart as she and Legolas turned in circles to the music, letting everything blur out of their vision save each other’s smiling faces. There was no fear of the coming battle, and no fear of death. Only joy, and love in their hearts as they embraced tightly.

Merry walked into a tent to see Triina asleep with a smile on her face, and a small group of faeries surrounding her. Some where standing on her chest and stomach, one was crouched on her forehead, and others hanging from and sitting on the ropes of the tent above her.

“What are you doing? You’ll wake her!” he hissed as she stirred.

“She was having bad dreams. We are making them good dreams.” The one on her forehead explained while twitching his glowing blue wings and blowing a tuft of red hair out of his eyes. “She is very nice. We don’t want her to have bad dreams and then have to see bad things. She should have good dreams before the bad things, so she isn’t afraid when the bad things happen.” Another explained.

“What are you making her dream about?” Merry questioned.

“In her dream we are all singing and dancing together! Like we used to years and years ago! The elf is dancing with her, and they love each other very, very much!” A faerie woman answered excitedly, flying up to hover in front of him, giving him the chance to really see what a faerie looked like.

Her hair was dark and pulled up in a way that set the ends of her hair to spike out in a half circle along the side of her head. She wore a small leather jacket that covered her chest but exposed her entire midsection. Her leggings fit lose on her legs and sat low on her hips with a crudely crafted belt holding a tiny axe sat above it. There was a tiny dagger strapped to her ankle, but she wore no shoes. Her wings fluttered behind her, small and glowing very pale blue, almost as if they were made of light. He could see right through them.

“Are you all right?” she asked, bobbing up and down to get his attention as she hovered in front of his face.

“What? Oh, yes, fine.” He answered, clearing his throat and making her giggle, “I’ve just never actually seen a faerie before.”

“Oh that’s all right! I’ve never seen a… what are you?” she questioned, tilting her head, “You look like a little man, but you have ears like an elf! But you are taller than the Dwarves.”

“I’m a hobbit! Halfling! One of the Shire-folk.” He beamed. “A Hobbit… I’ve never heard of one of you before… I like them! Are you all small like this?” she asked excitedly, fluttering up to lay on his head, flipping over his forehead to look down at him. “Most of us.” He nodded with a laugh.

“I like your hair, its fluffy.” She laughed, petting it affectionately.

“Uhm… thanks?” he smiled awkwardly as she continued to play with his hair until Calneius flew in.

“Let her sleep now. Her dream is set. She doesn’t need your help anymore. Come this way; there are men who can’t sleep because they see bad things.” He announced, and the faeries flew out of the tent, leaving Triina to sleep peacefully as Merry continued to make his way to the smithy.

As he walked through the camp he saw that there was not a single man who lay sleeping without a faerie beside him, aiding his rest. Small flickering wings fluttered everywhere, giving a sort of mystical calm to the war camp that was once filled with anxiety.

“One day, after the wars, do you think we will dance together again? All of us, the way we danced in the stories?” he heard one of the faeries ask as they floated, dancing to unheard music above the camp.

“One day, maybe even the elves will join us, and we will all dance together and sing!” the other laughed, making him smile as he continued his way to the smithy.

A short distance from the camp another group of faeries had formed to watch their brethren interact with the Men once more. They were all followers of one faerie woman who stood high on a mountain peak, watching the stars as if waiting for a sign.

“We will wait until she returns.” One of them nodded as she suddenly flew into the distance to a place unknown to them.

“Did you see that?” One of the men questioned from the camp, pointing to the sky, “It was a falling star so quick that I could hardly see it!”

“Those ‘falling stars’ that you see are not stars at all. They are a kind of faerie.” Calneius explained with a shrug, “They move very quick, and are known to be very deceptive by Men, even though they never truly mean for terrible things to happen. They are like us, but can be bigger.”

“Bigger?”

“They can look like you. Like Men and Elves. They can become tall and hide their wings. They are a race descended of half-breeds, and eventually became something more valuable than their ‘noble’ full blooded brethren.”

The soldier nodded as Calneius flew away to help calm the restless men as they attempted sleep and went on with his patrol, soon joined by another faerie offering company and sitting on his shoulder to help him watch for any attackers.

After traveling a very far distance to visit another kingdom the half-blood faerie woman landed roughly in a pile of straw just outside the castle’s stables. She stood gracefully in the form of a beautiful young woman with long, deep red hair, and fair skin, dressed in a light gown of white and blue as deep as the night sky. Her hair was lose and flowing over her shoulders, hiding her pointed ears as she walked barefoot across the jagged rocks and dry earth to the steps of King Radill’s home.

As she reached the top of the steps two guards crossed spears to block her entry to see their king, while a third drew his sword. “We do not welcome strangers passage through these doors. What is your name?” he demanded.

“I come by only peaceful means.” She spoke gently, holding her hands up in surrender, “I would die on these steps this night, if that is what you ask to prove my words. I will not fight the men of the king I mean to save.”

“Save from what?” he demanded harshly, stepping closer to her though she did not step back.

“From a very dark fate that none in these lands can foresee. Please, may I see him? You have my word that I will do no harm.”

“How can we be sure that you are telling the truth?” one of the other guards demanded, “Under your skirt you could easily be hiding a dagger to assassinate him.”

“The only things below my skirt are my own legs.” She answered, bowing her head as she lifted her skirt above her knees to show them proof, knowing that they would not move.

“And if we asked you to take off the dress so that we can be sure you are unarmed?” their commander asked eagerly.

“You would be making a very cruel demand.” She frowned, looking past them to the man that now stood behind his guard.

“Enough. Let the woman pass.” He ordered, causing the men to step aside quickly. “I offer my deepest apologies, My Lady, my men will be punished for their disrespect.” He bowed after leading her to a small room that at one time would have been comfortable.

“They will not. Please do not lie to me, for I will never lie to you.”

Radill looked at her in shock before taking a few steps closer. “Why have you come? What is your name?” he demanded, suspecting a trick.

“I have come to warn you, and to help you. I can only promise that if you allow my help, your kingdom will be saved and so shall you.”

“Who are you?”

“I wish I could answer this question. The race of Men is dependant on a name. However my kind have no names. We are many, but we have no names to give.”

“What race doesn’t have a name?” he scoffed.

“Mine.” She shrugged simply, “Now please, King Radill, accept my help or watch your kingdom fall and the memory of this place die. The choice is yours.”

“What warning do you bring?”

“War is coming, My Lord, and you are not prepared to fight. Your men are few, and your lands dry of hope.”

“War has reached the lands that invite it. I have no intent in taking arms against this foe that they fight.”

“You have no choice! War will still march across your lands! What king refuses to lead his people in defense of their home?”

“A king who protects them from death!” he snapped.

“Your people are already dying!” she roared, throwing the curtain from his window and forcing him to look over the city. The buildings were beginning to fall apart; the people never stepped out from their houses, and the few that did resembled mourners and lepers.

“Your people cry, your crops have gone, your cattle have died, and your walls crumble! Your men are not even loyal to this land anymore; they only stay from fear of the unknown!”

“My men obey ME! They do not bend to fear!”

“YOU RULE THEM IN FEAR!” she roared, stomping her bare foot against the cold stone floor of his chambers and kicking up dust. “You live in fear.” She spoke in a much gentler tone when he did not reply.

Again, King Radill stood in shocked, but furious silence.

“Your daughter leads her people on the frontlines of battle. She brings the Til’Arin to war, prepared and ready, as her mother was. Call for her aid in war and she will answer.”

“That woman has abandoned this land. I have no daughter; only dead sons.” He spat.

“She would give her life for this land. It is you who has abandoned her.” She snapped, “How dare you speak such cold words to your own flesh and blood?

“You know nothing, I see now why your kingdom has died. They are led by a dying king who is unfit for war.”

“You know nothing of war, or of these lands. What does a woman with no name know of such things?!”

“I know many things! I know as much as the stars show! And they have shown me your dying lands! I come to offer help and am met with hostility! You are the one who is ignorant of this world!” she snapped.

“Hold your tongue!” he ordered, and struck her across the face with such force that she fell to the ground. “Powerless woman, you have no authority here.” He spat.

Her eyes at once flashed a fiery orange and her ears suddenly appeared pointed and peeking through her hair. As she brought herself to her feet a set of dark orange and red wings appeared at her back, reflecting her fury as a small, almost glowing crudely formed and jagged dagger appeared in her hand, seemly falling from the sky.

“What are you?” Radill demanded, backing nervously away.

“We are known as half-breeds. We are a small and rare race of faerie. And you shall have no help from us.” She spat coldly.

“GUARDS!” he shrieked, drawing a sword and swinging it at her, but she disappeared in a blink of light, or so he thought. He was filled with even more terror when he heard her voice in his ear, and looked down to see her standing on his arm as he held his sword raised for a fight.

He screamed again in fear and dropped his sword while trying to brush her away, and she flew out of the window and into the sky, on her way to return to Sillis Triina.

When she returned, she was exhausted from such a flight and instead of landing on a post that was supporting a tent filled with weapons, fell to the ground unconscious. Legolas was walking from the tent and nearly stepped on her, and would have crushed her had Gimli not shouted his name while running over to pick up the small, seemingly dead faerie.

“What happened?” he gasped as Gimli held her in one of his hands, tilting his fingers to create a sort of bed for her to lay in as other men came to investigate their actions.

“Oh no! She’s hurt!” a small faerie woman gasped, flying down from another tent to land on Gimli’s wrist. She had short blonde hair that was pulled up into pigtails, and wore torn leggings that came only half way down her thighs, and a shirt made from a leaf, and was armed with small but highly poisonous darts. “Do you know why she fell?” she asked while looking up at Legolas fearfully.

“I do not.” He frowned.

“She is tired.” Another announced, also flying over to stand somewhere on Gimli near the body of their fallen friend.

Before any time passed at all Gimli, Legolas, and the small group of curious soldiers were swarmed by faeries that wanted to help the unconscious woman. Their wings began to glow as they used their magic to try and heal her, before lifting her together and flying off with her.

“Is there anything it can’t be used for?” Gimli asked in disbelief as the faerie woman soon woke and joined her fellows on the mountain.

“What?”

“Faerie magic, it is very useful.” The dwarf nodded, making him laugh as they went together to find a place to rest.