Wild Ones, by Kaylee Arafinwiel
Mar. 8th, 2018 09:30 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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b2memB2MeM Prompt and Category:Fanwork Prompt:
Create a fanwork inspired by a favorite song or other piece of music.
"But the songs wither, and the world worsens." ("The Homecoming of Beorhtnoth Beorthelm's Son")
Format: ficlet? I think.
Genre: songfic
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Deaths, and mention of deaths, abound. This is a happy song, but not such a happy fic ☹
Characters: Elu, Melian, Daeron, Luthien, Carcharoth, OCs (Melian and Carcharoth were the generator’s contribution)
Pairings: Elu/Melian, OC pairings
Creator’s Notes (optional): So this is late. I’m sorry ☹ I’ve been trying to post them every day on the day and I broke my streak. But while playing SongPop this morning in order to wake up, Faith Hill’s “Wild One” came on, and yeah…This takes place in mine and Emma (AfricanDaisy)’s AU. It references her tale "Elnineth", where Thranduil hears the tale of his great-aunt Alethril's fate.
Summary: The royal and noble society of Doriath is patriarchal in the extreme. Ellyn give commands and their ellith – wives, daughters, sisters, nieces, cousins – are expected to follow. But every generation, or so, there’s a wild one…
I didn’t include all the lyrics (which I disclaim as Faith Hill’s, obviously) so here’s the song:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WifpCsOQ3JM
They said change your clothes,
She said no I won't,
They said comb your hair,
She said some kids don't,
And her parents dreams went up in smoke.
Alethril Gwathioniel was the first who caused her parents’ dreams, her father’s dream of a proper obedient heir to die. Not, he admitted to himself, that the dream was his in the first place. But ellith had to be protected, he had learnt at his father and uncle’s knees; he knew the lessons of Cuivienen, not so long lost to history.
Alethril was his firstborn and heir, and her mother Tatharien’s frustration and delight. She loved her wild child despite her refusal to be unladylike, as did he, truly. They brought her up alongside his elder brother’s Celeborn; the two cousins were best of friends. They learned to tell the turning and fading of the years by the brightening and dimming of the stars, and the movements of faraway worlds, from Queen Melian – together. (Gwathion was rather impressed that his Maia aunt could keep Alethril still. No one else could.)
Once, they had gone to the palace for a ball, and all of a sudden, their young daughter was just not there. Alethril had vanished sometime during the dancing – who knows when. The palace’s occupants were in a frenzy – the girl was one of only two princesses of the kingdom and beloved by all despite her wayward manner.
When she was brought to Tatharien, pale and cold, dripping with icicles, Gwathion held his wife as she screamed and screamed. An open-air cavern, with a pool, frozen white, would have been an invitation to an elfling who didn’t understand the meaning of ‘wait.’ The ice had been unsafe. It had cracked, with no one to hear her cry for help.
Their beloved wild child, their heir Alethril, was the first to die inside the Girdle – but not the last.
They said you can't leave,
She said yes I will,
They said don't see him,
She said his name is Bill,
She's on a road and its all uphill.
She's a wild one,
With an angel's face,
She's a woman child in a state of grace,
When she was three years old on her daddy's knee,
He said you can be anything you want to be,
She's a wild one,
Runnin' free.
Luthien was Alethril’s first cousin once removed, and like her younger cousin was rather a puzzle to her royal father. She was certainly more ladylike, in general a proper heir, but she hated being confined and constrained; she hated being ruled over, and the idea that a husband ought to be found for her. And who could be found to match Luthien?
Elu would never, in all his millennia of life, have selected a hapless young Mortal, of a mere score and a half years to be the one. This child of Men knew nothing of the time before Sun and Moon, he knew nothing of the changelessness of Elves – he knew nothing of what it took to hold the hand of a Maia, or her daughter, and to rule. This boy was an outlaw on the run from the Dark Hunter’s servant. What value could he be to Luthien? And yet…and yet. He had come alive through terrors and sorrows uncounted. Well, if he could brave the Mountains of Terror and the vale haunted by Ungoliant’s offspring, he could certainly handle one final test. Elu would not lose his beloved daughter to death without proof of this Man’s rightness.
The likelihood, of course, was that Beren would die – as he would have to, anyway – and Elu could perhaps find his wild daughter someone more suitable. Daeron, perhaps, who loved her after all. Elu had raised her as his heir, but he hadn’t expected her to become quite this unpredictable. After all, he had raised Brandir, too. Brandir, his foster-son, abandoned as a little boy, who had steadied from his earliest days and become a son to be proud of. Now, Brandir’s daughters, especially his youngest…
She loves rock and roll,
They said it's satan's tongue,
She thinks they're too old,
They think she's too young,
And the battle lines are clearly drawn.
She's a wild one,
With an angel's face,
She's a woman child in a state of grace,
When she was three years old on her daddy's knee,
He said you can be anything you want to be,
She's a wild one,
Runnin' free.
Miniel and Tadiel had turned into gentle young ladies, who waited on their foster-grandmother Melian dutifully and made no complaints. But even Melian wouldn’t accept Neldiel into her service, much as she adored the child. Melian was rather sure that Neldiel was Alethril over again. Perhaps a little more than figuratively, even…
Then again, it was Miniel and Tadiel who had accepted the courtship of commoners, though they were wealthy artisans whose work Elu often received. Neldiel was the one who had been betrothed to Celepharn Gwathionchil – he was closest to her age, after all.
Celepharn was Alethril’s brother, Gwathion’s heir. Born after her death and knowing naught of her for many years, when he did find out it was made clear he was no mere replacement for her. But he secretly admired this wild sister of his, wishing he’d gotten to meet her. The patriarchy grated on him, and he swore he’d never force his wife to obey unless he had to.
Neldiel was so like Alethril – was it any wonder Celepharn loved her? Luthien adored them both, as she had adored her little cousin, and had always approved of their marriage, of their sons – Oropher and Vehiron – and in return, they had aided her in fleeing Neldoreth when it came time. The Hirilorn stood empty because Celepharn and Neldiel, Celeborn and Galathil, had distracted the Princess’ guards. Elu wouldn’t stand in the way of love that was true and right.
Nor, when the time came, did he let Beren’s hand remain lost to the Carcharoth. The Quest was fulfilled, if not in the way any had thought, and the King welcomed the Camlost, Beren Erchamion, as his son.
Create a fanwork inspired by a favorite song or other piece of music.
"But the songs wither, and the world worsens." ("The Homecoming of Beorhtnoth Beorthelm's Son")
Format: ficlet? I think.
Genre: songfic
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Deaths, and mention of deaths, abound. This is a happy song, but not such a happy fic ☹
Characters: Elu, Melian, Daeron, Luthien, Carcharoth, OCs (Melian and Carcharoth were the generator’s contribution)
Pairings: Elu/Melian, OC pairings
Creator’s Notes (optional): So this is late. I’m sorry ☹ I’ve been trying to post them every day on the day and I broke my streak. But while playing SongPop this morning in order to wake up, Faith Hill’s “Wild One” came on, and yeah…This takes place in mine and Emma (AfricanDaisy)’s AU. It references her tale "Elnineth", where Thranduil hears the tale of his great-aunt Alethril's fate.
Summary: The royal and noble society of Doriath is patriarchal in the extreme. Ellyn give commands and their ellith – wives, daughters, sisters, nieces, cousins – are expected to follow. But every generation, or so, there’s a wild one…
I didn’t include all the lyrics (which I disclaim as Faith Hill’s, obviously) so here’s the song:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WifpCsOQ3JM
They said change your clothes,
She said no I won't,
They said comb your hair,
She said some kids don't,
And her parents dreams went up in smoke.
Alethril Gwathioniel was the first who caused her parents’ dreams, her father’s dream of a proper obedient heir to die. Not, he admitted to himself, that the dream was his in the first place. But ellith had to be protected, he had learnt at his father and uncle’s knees; he knew the lessons of Cuivienen, not so long lost to history.
Alethril was his firstborn and heir, and her mother Tatharien’s frustration and delight. She loved her wild child despite her refusal to be unladylike, as did he, truly. They brought her up alongside his elder brother’s Celeborn; the two cousins were best of friends. They learned to tell the turning and fading of the years by the brightening and dimming of the stars, and the movements of faraway worlds, from Queen Melian – together. (Gwathion was rather impressed that his Maia aunt could keep Alethril still. No one else could.)
Once, they had gone to the palace for a ball, and all of a sudden, their young daughter was just not there. Alethril had vanished sometime during the dancing – who knows when. The palace’s occupants were in a frenzy – the girl was one of only two princesses of the kingdom and beloved by all despite her wayward manner.
When she was brought to Tatharien, pale and cold, dripping with icicles, Gwathion held his wife as she screamed and screamed. An open-air cavern, with a pool, frozen white, would have been an invitation to an elfling who didn’t understand the meaning of ‘wait.’ The ice had been unsafe. It had cracked, with no one to hear her cry for help.
Their beloved wild child, their heir Alethril, was the first to die inside the Girdle – but not the last.
They said you can't leave,
She said yes I will,
They said don't see him,
She said his name is Bill,
She's on a road and its all uphill.
She's a wild one,
With an angel's face,
She's a woman child in a state of grace,
When she was three years old on her daddy's knee,
He said you can be anything you want to be,
She's a wild one,
Runnin' free.
Luthien was Alethril’s first cousin once removed, and like her younger cousin was rather a puzzle to her royal father. She was certainly more ladylike, in general a proper heir, but she hated being confined and constrained; she hated being ruled over, and the idea that a husband ought to be found for her. And who could be found to match Luthien?
Elu would never, in all his millennia of life, have selected a hapless young Mortal, of a mere score and a half years to be the one. This child of Men knew nothing of the time before Sun and Moon, he knew nothing of the changelessness of Elves – he knew nothing of what it took to hold the hand of a Maia, or her daughter, and to rule. This boy was an outlaw on the run from the Dark Hunter’s servant. What value could he be to Luthien? And yet…and yet. He had come alive through terrors and sorrows uncounted. Well, if he could brave the Mountains of Terror and the vale haunted by Ungoliant’s offspring, he could certainly handle one final test. Elu would not lose his beloved daughter to death without proof of this Man’s rightness.
The likelihood, of course, was that Beren would die – as he would have to, anyway – and Elu could perhaps find his wild daughter someone more suitable. Daeron, perhaps, who loved her after all. Elu had raised her as his heir, but he hadn’t expected her to become quite this unpredictable. After all, he had raised Brandir, too. Brandir, his foster-son, abandoned as a little boy, who had steadied from his earliest days and become a son to be proud of. Now, Brandir’s daughters, especially his youngest…
She loves rock and roll,
They said it's satan's tongue,
She thinks they're too old,
They think she's too young,
And the battle lines are clearly drawn.
She's a wild one,
With an angel's face,
She's a woman child in a state of grace,
When she was three years old on her daddy's knee,
He said you can be anything you want to be,
She's a wild one,
Runnin' free.
Miniel and Tadiel had turned into gentle young ladies, who waited on their foster-grandmother Melian dutifully and made no complaints. But even Melian wouldn’t accept Neldiel into her service, much as she adored the child. Melian was rather sure that Neldiel was Alethril over again. Perhaps a little more than figuratively, even…
Then again, it was Miniel and Tadiel who had accepted the courtship of commoners, though they were wealthy artisans whose work Elu often received. Neldiel was the one who had been betrothed to Celepharn Gwathionchil – he was closest to her age, after all.
Celepharn was Alethril’s brother, Gwathion’s heir. Born after her death and knowing naught of her for many years, when he did find out it was made clear he was no mere replacement for her. But he secretly admired this wild sister of his, wishing he’d gotten to meet her. The patriarchy grated on him, and he swore he’d never force his wife to obey unless he had to.
Neldiel was so like Alethril – was it any wonder Celepharn loved her? Luthien adored them both, as she had adored her little cousin, and had always approved of their marriage, of their sons – Oropher and Vehiron – and in return, they had aided her in fleeing Neldoreth when it came time. The Hirilorn stood empty because Celepharn and Neldiel, Celeborn and Galathil, had distracted the Princess’ guards. Elu wouldn’t stand in the way of love that was true and right.
Nor, when the time came, did he let Beren’s hand remain lost to the Carcharoth. The Quest was fulfilled, if not in the way any had thought, and the King welcomed the Camlost, Beren Erchamion, as his son.
