Character: OC and Master Elrond
Source: Post Last Alliance
Disclaimer: Tolkien made this landscape, Kortirion made this character – for pleasure not for profit.
The sun’s wheel had turned through the seasons. Now, standing before the mountains cradling his home he felt… felt… different. The shrieking yrch had marked him, making him ‘different’ from the unfledged warrior who’d raised his blade at his lord’s bidding… He had marked himself as ‘other’ when he’d insisted the healers crop his other ear… did he need symmetry? No, he needed balance. He’d felt ground down like grain between granite millstones, pulverised, destroyed, transformed into something he didn’t recognise, something he could not face…
Now, he returned. He had been someone else, but… perhaps, he could re-shape himself.
The scouts welcomed him. For the first time in a year, he felt he could return their gaze, eye to eye… although tempted to cast his hood over his head, he refrained.
It was good to hear elvish voices. Oh, there’d been Lothlorien, but their accent was not of his close kin; their scent was leaves, woodsmoke, crushed grass and sweet herbs, soft water lingering over leafmould. Here his comrades smelt of mica and granite, not soft earth. A crystalline abrasiveness that teased his tongue and nostrils, the scent of spring-water and icy spray, moss and pine… he was home.
Bowing low, he gave obeisance. Master Elrond accepted his offered hands, enclosing them in his own, murmuring a benediction before raising him to walk the terrace that they might speak privately.
“No my Lord, even Lothlorien’s Lady confessed she could feel no trace.”
Elrond’s features relaxed from their granite frown. “Will you allow yourself respite?”
The elf bowed his head.
Elrond gripped his shoulders. “You have my thanks… accept my help.”
The young elf nodded.
The healers’ arts helped slough old scars away… obsidian blades gradually shaved puckered scales, revealing renewed skin.
...He had returned.