Disclaimer: the ONLY thing I own is Delwyn (Vanyalosse), Tatianna and anything not found in any of the works of the great Professor Tolkien. All places, people, things and events found in his works are his and his only, and I make no profit by using them herein. I've used a blend of story and movie elements, you have been warned.
Tatianna gazed up the mountain's jagged face looming over her, its shadow cast on and behind her as the sun rose behind it. It had bee a long two weeks, difficult and trying, not to mention the seemingly endless hike through the deep, forested ravine. She had heard many tales all throughout her life of the miles long ravines surrounding the tall, mysterious mountain whose peak was lost in the clouds. There was not a single soul who was ever able to reach its peak, or discover its origins or anything much about it; travelers got lost in its vast ravines, and if they were lucky enough to make it through (providing they didn't turn back), none made it far up the mountain. Tatianna smiled; they were probably just exaggerating because they had failed. This wasn't hard at all. Not bothering to stop for another rest, she pushed her backpack up and proceeded to climb upwards.
The rock face did not get easier. Many jagged rocks, both big and small littered the face of the mountain. It was hard to gauge just what was stable and what wasn't. Large rocks would slip out from under her, while little ones proved to be sturdy footholds. She slipped a couple of times, knocking her shins and calves against the rocks, but she grew ever so close to the peak that she could not stop. She had to get to the top, had to discover what things grew and lived there. It would be perfect – the first person to top the mountain peak. The fame and renown that would come with that became her driving force to the top. Her steps quickened, her climb turned into a quick step, the quick steps became a jog, the jog became a run, and a run became a sprint. The mists grew closer and closer, her path becoming obscured by them as they grew around her. Then suddenly she realized - no one was really clear on how high the mountain went up, the mists never having let up thus not revealing its peak. She could run out of air if the peak went high enough, as she wasn't really prepared for a thin atmosphere. Still, Tatianna had to know what was up here.
The mists were thick, and Tatianna nearly lost her way. But soon the mists cleared to obscure the world below her, and she found herself on the border of a lush, almost ageless forest. She stopped dead in her tracks; how could something like this thrive at this altitude! These trees were larger than the oldest firs she knew of that still grew in the world and different from all the many other trees she'd ever seen. They seemed almost…alive. Though hesitant by this strange sight she wandered into the trees, entranced by the birdsong above, sunlight glowing through the canopy. She wasn't paying attention where she exactly was heading, having intended initially to stay along the borders so as not to get lost in this strange forest, but as soon as she entered the boughs of the forest everything aside from the strange beauty of the forest faded from her mind. Wandering aimlessly through the wood, she almost didn't hear the approaching hoof beats until the horse and its rider were nearly upon her.
She whipped around to see a white dappled horse, its mane dove grey and its tack of a strange origin. Its rider was clothed mostly in white, the only other colours being silver-grey around the bodice of her dress and a cloak of golden brown. Her belt, which glimpsed out at the side of her dress, was also of a gold fabric. The hood was up, but her raven black hair flowed out unbound down the front of her dress. Her sleeves covered her hands and some of her fingertips, concealing any sort of jewelry she might have been wearing, but a chain hung from her neck. Tatianna gazed up at her, surprised. The lady smiled.
"So you have finally found your way here, have you?" she asked knowingly. "I have been expecting you for some time."
Tatianna's brow furrowed. "Expecting me? How could you possibly be expecting me? And why are you here? How did you get here? No one lives on this mountain."
"Well as you can plainly see, I do live on this mountain, as do a handful of others who serve me," the woman replied. "And now the time has come for me to depart this abode, which is why I have allowed you to ascend as high as you have."
She dropped her backpack at her feet. "What do you mean? You can't possibly keep people off this mountain if they wish to ascend it. Just because I've been the only one strong enough to make it up here doesn't mean you can try and make up some lame excuse to downplay my accomplishment, and expect me to believe it."
The lady chuckled. "Oh believe me I can keep people off and I have. It has been vital that I keep this place a secret from the world, and have succeeded in that task. But despite my departure, this place must remain secret, and I have chosen you to replace me."
Tatianna could do nothing but stare incredulously at this lady. Was she completely mad! Everyone should be seeing this place, documenting its resources, studying the plants and creatures that were contained in this forest. The lady shook her head slightly.
"They would destroy it in the process. This place would be quickly exploited, as would everything in it. Hoards of people would strive to come to this place, maybe even build homes here, and millennia of work will have been in vain. No one must know of this place."
She seemed startled at her answer, wondering if she had spoken her thoughts aloud and not realized it. The woman smiled, and turned her horse. "Come, and I shall explain to you why."
The horse trotted off forward and Tatianna followed, her confusion and curiousity having gotten the better of her. Aside from the bird song and the hoof beats of the horse there was silence. No one else was about, no creatures scurried through the underbrush – not even the birds overhead allowed themselves to be seen. She wondered how anyone could live in a place so alive and yet so quiet at the same time. A multitude of questions kept tumbling in her mind, things she wished to know, yet the longer she was with this woman the more she was beginning to somehow sense the power and the regal nature tied to her. It almost seemed inappropriate to just go ahead and speak to her without being given permission to do so. Very quickly she was regretting making the climb up this mountain. A long and deep desire for fame and wealth, and where had it gotten her? Trapped on a mountaintop with people and in a place that felt like she had stepped out of reality. But her definition of reality was about to change.
The trees opened up to encircle a stone courtyard framed by a rounded arch supported by large pillars and more stonewall. The craftsmanship was astounding and aged, speaking of artisans long since passed. The clip-clop of the horse's hooves called to a servant who came out to the pair. A tall man with long dark hair clad in creamy beige robes walked up to the lady's horse with not even a glimpse to Tatianna, took hold of the bridle and held out a hand to aid the lady down from her mount. She watched the man approach, taken by the strange beauty of this man but noticed one strange thing when he stopped next to the horse – his ears were pointed. Her brow furrowed as she watched the lady accept his hand, and once off her mount she looked back to her and gave her head a nod, indicating for Tatianna to follow. She almost didn't see the nod, being momentarily overwhelmed by the strange man, her current surroundings and the soft colours of the manor before her, but she shook her head and followed as instructed. The house was unlike any she had ever seen; few walls, many more pillars and arches, the rooms flowing from one into the next. They turned one corner and were greeted by an entire corridor of paintings, which ran along the outside of the manor. Each was a different scene with no relation to the world she knew, people she knew nothing of. Yet as they walked, the images became strangely familiar, as did the people in them. Tatianna stopped at one specific painting of a man dressed in white at the top of a great staircase, a crown in his hands. Another man, dressed in royal garb, was kneeling before him, and soldiers with armour bearing a tree and stars surrounding the steps and lining the on looking crowd.
"That," she stammered. "But that can't be that…"
The lady paused, and turned to face her. "What cannot be what?"
Tatianna pointed, flustered. "This!"
She gazed at the picture one long moment. "The Coronation of King Elessar. What is wrong with that?"
"But why would you have a picture of Aragorn's Coronation!"
"I was there," she replied nonchalantly, turning to continue down the hall. "I was at many of the events in these images, hence why they are here. Others were images taken from the halls of Imladris, to preserve their memory before that haven finally succumbed to time. You will see them further down."
Tatianna was not convinced. Things just weren't adding up, and she was getting more questions than answers to satisfy them.
"But that doesn't make any sense," she replied angrily. "How could you have been there? You would have to be-"
"Immortal?" the lady finished, stopping and turning to face her. "Yes, I am immortal. My heritage and past allowed me to choose my path in life to a degree, and so I chose immortality."
"Well I don't believe you," Tatianna stated, though not entirely sure if that statement was true. She had always wanted to believe in the tales and legends she heard growing up, but they had occurred so long ago no one was clear on what the truth was anymore. But yet here she was, presented with real images straight out of those legends she knew from childhood, and she couldn't get her mind around it. The lady gazed long and hard at her, almost as if reading her thoughts.
"If I tell you my story, will you believe me?"
"I might."
She smiled. "Very well. We shall go to my library, and I shall tell you."
They walked the rest of the way in silence, and soon they entered a room lined with bookcases and with various desks and chairs of different design scattered throughout the room. Books and parchment scattered the tops of the tables. The lady indicated for her to sit in one of the chairs, to which Tatianna did so, and the lady removed her cloak. Long dark hair cascaded down her back now that it was free of the confines of the cloak, and pointed ears peaked out from the tresses.
"So…what is your name?" Tatianna asked, her voice breaking the silence. The lady continued walking about, draping her cloak over a chair.
"My epesse is Vanyalosse, which I have been called and known by for many a long year now."
"What's an epesse?"
"A name given to a loved one by a loved one."
"Is he here, the person who gave you this?"
Vanyalosse stopped at a waist high display case, her smile gone. "No. He sailed a long time ago. He is with our kin far West."
Tatianna looked down, almost ashamed of asking. Clearly it was a painful memory. A moment of silence passed between them. She looked up to see Vanyalosse idly outlined the case, focused on its contents.
"The story I am about to tell you is of a mortal woman, though unlike you she possessed lineage that separated her from the place in which she grew up, even the peoples to which she was connected. Her beginnings lie in another world where she lived in peace until the age of six, when her mother was killed, and she was left with an abusive father…"
Delwyn sat up in her room, her body heaving with sobs. Tears made finger-like rivers down her face to collect in the fabric of her bed sheets when they had fallen from her face. He had done it again tonight - struck her back with his belt. She couldn't understand why he hated her so much; she did everything she could to help keep the storm that was his anger at bay, and yet he hated her so much. No matter how hard she cleaned, he could always find a fingerprint on the wooden furniture, or a piece of lint on the carpet. He had eagle's eyes and no flaw, great or small, escaped them.
She shifted her body around so that she was lying down on her pillows. It amazed her how after all these years, she still felt very much like a child. She may have been nearly twenty, she truly didn't feel much older than her early teens, if that. He drove so much fear into her heart that it felt numb, a block of stone inside her chest. Her memories of family and love had all but faded away, and she wondered if she would ever come to a point in her life where she would feel those things ever again in her life.
A knock at the door startled her out of her reveire. Her father didn't get up to answer it; she knew he wouldn't. She would have heard him anyway. Stumbling off her bed, she quietly walked down the stairs and to the door. There was a mirror on the left wall adjacent to the closet by the front door. She stopped, not because of her distraught appearance but because she thought she saw two figures pass in the reflection with her, like she were walking past them. Yet a second look revealed nothing but her. A second knock came to the door, this time more impatient, wanting to be opened. She shook her head, walked to the door and opened it. It was two policemen, here to arrest her father. He had gotten into a fight at a local bar (which explained what fueled his anger even more when he came home), stabbed someone with his pocketknife and crashed his car into someone else's. "He's up those stairs," she answered, pointing behind her. "The living room is right at the top. He's in there." Both policemen looked at her, then eachother. The situation went deeper than anticipated. One of them called for another car, then they both went upstairs to make their arrest. Thrashing, swearing and objects breaking could be heard above the policemen's' voices. Not long after they went up, another set of policemen came to the door. They asked her questions about her father, and she told them everything. The abuse, the torture and even all the nights she spent locked up in the half-finished bathroom downstairs. After about thirty minutes they all left, including her father who spat at her as he was dragged away. Reminded of the earlier chaos with him and the Sighing, Delwyn went upstairs and started packing her gym bag; the police suggested that she stay with someone she trusted. At the moment she couldn't think of anyone, because her father never let her go out. She knew she couldn't stay, just in case by some turn of bad luck he came home. After a few minutes, her bag sat on her bed ready to go. But she felt that she was forgetting something - her mother's locket, given to her when her mother died. She searched through her dresser, the clothes on the floor, everything. Amongst the furniture in her room, a large mirror was propped up against a wall. Oddly enough, many of her clothes were in front of it. Jacqueline stepped on a small pile of clothes, particularly her basketball shorts, just as she had bent down to grab the chain to the locket. She slipped and fell backward, her back parallel to the mirror. But instead of making contact with the mirror she fell through it into a world she didn't recognize. On her way through she grabbed the edges of her mirror, a desperate attempt to save herself - to no avail. Her hands slipped and the mirror shook, fell and broke, cutting off the link from her world to this world. Now she was stuck.
policemen, she didn't even want to see what the living room looked like.