They are greeted 由 darkness, but that darkness is quickly banished as flames on candles set into empty spaces on the walls flicker to life. The air is suddenly tinged with a fragrance that none of them can identify, though on some level, they each recognize it, and are put at ease. There is a slight chill to the air, but the chill gives way as their warmth fills the enormous chamber they've entered. Everywhere they look there are books, books, scrolls, skeletons of various creatures in protective cases, weapons and shields, and all manner of incredible things. Things, Snape notes, that feel somehow out of place here. Like they did not originate in this Reality. He thinks back to the mystical Mirror that helped him find his way to the happiness he now has. As he moves slowly from item to item in the display case, he is gripped with a grim determination; Els must not see these things. He knows what the sight of these blades would do to her, how they would set her off. She would want to touch them, to hold them, and to take 更多 than one of them home.
They are beautiful, these blades, most of which he does not recognize, but there are four...four that he knows very well. He's seen them before, in Elsbet's mind, in her dreams, and in her 最喜爱的 Muggle stories. Klingon daggers. Three daggers, and a Bat'leth sword. As his eyes examine the sword with the utmost attention to detail, his 心 pounds. He wants to think that this is a replica of the Emperor's Sword, but...every single bit of Magic in him tells him that it is not. It is the real thing. All he wants now is to get Elsbet out of the Hall of Chronicles before she sees it, but instead, Snape turns slowly, drawing himself up and masking his emotions now in turmoil. He faces his loved ones and drifts over to them as though nothing were bothering him. He watches her carefully as she moves around the displays, silently willing her not to touch anything.
Malfoy is not fooled 由 the Dark wizard's calm facade. He slips his arm around Snape's waist and whispers, "if 你 tell her how 你 feel, Severus--" Snape shakes his head slightly, saying, "it would make her sad, and I will not be a cause of sadness for her. She loves these brutal things and I don't know why, but who am I to judge?" Malfoy sighs and gives Snape a little squeeze, which actually lightens his mood a bit. "Shall we find the Chronicler?" Malfoy asks, and Snape puts his arm around the Healer's shoulders. They find their loved ones in a smaller chamber, one filled with huge piles of scrolls. There is a section of the chamber where the 墙 is bare and there is no shelf, no table, no book, though at the 最佳, 返回页首 of the wall, almost to the ceiling, is a very large roll of parchment. Three large rolls, in fact. Neither Snape nor Malfoy can imagine what they might be used for, but as their curiousity draws them closer to the wall, Layne's voice distracts them.
"Ellie, please come away from there! Please, don't touch it!" Snape turns 'round to see the woman he loves standing before a small round table, gazing up at a sword. She is as seemingly transfixed 由 it as it seems suspended in mid-air, as if it were hovering above the table. It is a sword of spectacular beauty, and Snape's mind races. It's not the first sword he thinks of, that sword was buried with the King who helped vanquish the Dark Lord. It's not the 秒 sword he thinks of, that sword was returned to the Lady of the Lake. It's certainly not the third sword he thinks of, that sword is safely hidden in the Headmaster's office. He can't think of any others suddenly, it's as if his brain has turned to mush, and Malfoy is moving slowly toward her. He won't reach her in time, Snape thinks, and then, he is shaken 由 a wave of emotion from her.
Her whole Being resonates with joy at the sight of the blade...she loves the blade, she feels the blade, she knows it...Elsbet knows the blade! She's waited her whole life to be just this close to it...but she wants to be closer... Snape is moving before the others are, but her steady hand reaches it before they get near her. Before any of them can say a single thing, she's cut her finger on the edge of the blade. Everyone stops where they are, their breath held; while she winces and pulls her hand back, the blade does not fall...it doesn't so much as move. Blood runs from the tip of Elsbet's finger, and as she brings her bleeding finger to her lips, there is a sound like the rush of wings.
"Ah, ah...you mustn't do that, my dear," the Chronicler says, his voice the only sound in the chamber, "one mustn't waste blood." Gently, he takes Elsbet's hand and holds it so that the bright red fluid does not drip, and leads her away from the table. Slowly, Snape's tribe follows, all but Remus; as the others watch Elsbet and the Chronicler, he watches silently as Elsbet's blood disappears into the blade. He has no way of knowing that what is true for the Sword of Gryffindor is also true for this one. It only takes in that which makes it stronger. He is pulled from his thoughts 由 唐克斯 and the Chronicler's voice as the pale figure brings Elsbet to the empty wall.
"The Blood is the Life," he tells her, "and your blood is most precious." He lets go of her hand for a moment and points a long, bony finger at the roll of parchment above them, and as the edge of it comes within his grasp, she asks, "why is my blood so precious?" He looks at her with great surprise. "You do not know?" The little tribe watches the Chronicler's every move, though Therion is silently telling them that he would never do anyone any harm, least of all her. And see, the copper-maned wizard thinks, she has no fear of him. Indeed, she does not; she gazes at him with as much wonder as she did the hovering, mysterious blade.
As he fixes the edge of the parchment to the hook on the floor, she says innocently, "you're a Vampire, aren't you? A real Vampire?" His eerie green eyes meet her bright blue ones and he gives her a slight nod. "Yes, but that is beside the point," he says as he takes her hand again and as he pulls her closer to the parchment, a lock of pale blond hair falls into his smooth, unlined face. Both Snape and Malfoy 移动 closer, uncertain of his intentions. "Come, Lady, give just a drop, and 你 shall have your answer." He holds her hand over an unseen spot on the parchment, just above where it now meets the floor, and gives her finger a squeeze. Her blood wells up and a single drop falls onto the parchment. He releases her hand immediately and nods to Malfoy, who then takes her hand and pulls her into his arms. He heals the cut on her finger with barely any effort.
When the drop of Elsbet's blood hit the parchment, there was an audible hiss; now they watch in awe as a sort of 树 draws out from that spot and they know they are seeing their Elf maiden's genealogy spread out in front of them.
She slips from Malfoy's embrace and watches the names appear as if written 由 an unseen hand, and 由 the time the scrivening ends, it is almost 更多 than she can take in. "It can't be," she whispers, and yet, she knows that it is. Blood never lies, she knows, and even as those she loves gather to see the names of her Ancestors she turns away from the parchment, weeping. The Chronicler follows her, leaving the family to deal with the truth of Ellie's identity in their own way. He acknowledges the birds as they enter the chamber, then goes to the Lady's side. The birds chatter excitedly for a few moments, then Therion begins to read the Historical Notation that has appeared near the bottom of the tree, his voice clear and steady.
Elsbet Strider descends from Elrohir, one of the twin sons of Elrond Half-Elven, Lord of Rivendell, and Celebrían, daughter of Galadriel and Celeborn. Some time after the defeat of the Dark Lord Sauron, Elrohir fell in 爱情 with Marewyn, a Shield-Maiden of Rohan, and from them rose the paternal line of Elsbet's father Elwine. Elwine's maternal line descends from a specific group of Falathrim who survived the fall of Brithombar and Eglarest; they fled along with Gil-galad and would later accompany Eärendil on his many journies into the West. Anarion, mother of Elwine Strider, was the daughter of Anandúrë and the Welsh wizard Arthfael Urien, a renown champion and healer of horses.
The paternal line of Elsbet's mother descends from a specific group of Mírdain who fled Eregion when their people fell into the service of the Dark Lord Sauron. Athlene's mother, Cliona Athella Fitzpatrick was herself Half-Elven, being the daughter of the Irish wizard Ewan Fitzpatrick and a Silvan named Athellion, who descended from Thrangundel, a sister of Thranduil, the father of Legolas Greenleaf. In her mother's tradition, Elsbet's name should have began with "Ath", but Athlene wanted her daughter to be 'strong with horses' so gave her an "El" name instead. How the line of Elrohir gained the surname 'Strider' has been 迷失 to genetic memory, but quite possibly it signifies the close relationship the descendants of the twin sons kept with those of their sister Arwen Evenstar.
One 由 one, once Therion's voice fades, they look back at her and find the Chronicler kneeling before her, holding her hands. "The Heir of Elrohir," Layne says softly, and any reservations he had about the Chronicler have left him. The pale figure is weeping as well, and gently stroking the palm of her hand. "I knew, Lady, the 日 你 first entered this city, I knew. I wished to speak with you, but when I saw 你 that day, it was too much for my 心 to bear." His gaze drops and he recovers himself, wiping his face as she touches him before she moves away. Snape and Malfoy are the last to look away from their Beloved's scroll, and when they do they look to each other. As the Chronicler rises he catches the scent of fresh blood in the air and turns, not expecting to find that Malfoy has pricked his finger. There is no need for words; the Chronicler quickly pulls down another parchment, and Malfoy lets a drop of blood fall on to it as everyone gathers to watch his scrivening begin.
They are beautiful, these blades, most of which he does not recognize, but there are four...four that he knows very well. He's seen them before, in Elsbet's mind, in her dreams, and in her 最喜爱的 Muggle stories. Klingon daggers. Three daggers, and a Bat'leth sword. As his eyes examine the sword with the utmost attention to detail, his 心 pounds. He wants to think that this is a replica of the Emperor's Sword, but...every single bit of Magic in him tells him that it is not. It is the real thing. All he wants now is to get Elsbet out of the Hall of Chronicles before she sees it, but instead, Snape turns slowly, drawing himself up and masking his emotions now in turmoil. He faces his loved ones and drifts over to them as though nothing were bothering him. He watches her carefully as she moves around the displays, silently willing her not to touch anything.
Malfoy is not fooled 由 the Dark wizard's calm facade. He slips his arm around Snape's waist and whispers, "if 你 tell her how 你 feel, Severus--" Snape shakes his head slightly, saying, "it would make her sad, and I will not be a cause of sadness for her. She loves these brutal things and I don't know why, but who am I to judge?" Malfoy sighs and gives Snape a little squeeze, which actually lightens his mood a bit. "Shall we find the Chronicler?" Malfoy asks, and Snape puts his arm around the Healer's shoulders. They find their loved ones in a smaller chamber, one filled with huge piles of scrolls. There is a section of the chamber where the 墙 is bare and there is no shelf, no table, no book, though at the 最佳, 返回页首 of the wall, almost to the ceiling, is a very large roll of parchment. Three large rolls, in fact. Neither Snape nor Malfoy can imagine what they might be used for, but as their curiousity draws them closer to the wall, Layne's voice distracts them.
"Ellie, please come away from there! Please, don't touch it!" Snape turns 'round to see the woman he loves standing before a small round table, gazing up at a sword. She is as seemingly transfixed 由 it as it seems suspended in mid-air, as if it were hovering above the table. It is a sword of spectacular beauty, and Snape's mind races. It's not the first sword he thinks of, that sword was buried with the King who helped vanquish the Dark Lord. It's not the 秒 sword he thinks of, that sword was returned to the Lady of the Lake. It's certainly not the third sword he thinks of, that sword is safely hidden in the Headmaster's office. He can't think of any others suddenly, it's as if his brain has turned to mush, and Malfoy is moving slowly toward her. He won't reach her in time, Snape thinks, and then, he is shaken 由 a wave of emotion from her.
Her whole Being resonates with joy at the sight of the blade...she loves the blade, she feels the blade, she knows it...Elsbet knows the blade! She's waited her whole life to be just this close to it...but she wants to be closer... Snape is moving before the others are, but her steady hand reaches it before they get near her. Before any of them can say a single thing, she's cut her finger on the edge of the blade. Everyone stops where they are, their breath held; while she winces and pulls her hand back, the blade does not fall...it doesn't so much as move. Blood runs from the tip of Elsbet's finger, and as she brings her bleeding finger to her lips, there is a sound like the rush of wings.
"Ah, ah...you mustn't do that, my dear," the Chronicler says, his voice the only sound in the chamber, "one mustn't waste blood." Gently, he takes Elsbet's hand and holds it so that the bright red fluid does not drip, and leads her away from the table. Slowly, Snape's tribe follows, all but Remus; as the others watch Elsbet and the Chronicler, he watches silently as Elsbet's blood disappears into the blade. He has no way of knowing that what is true for the Sword of Gryffindor is also true for this one. It only takes in that which makes it stronger. He is pulled from his thoughts 由 唐克斯 and the Chronicler's voice as the pale figure brings Elsbet to the empty wall.
"The Blood is the Life," he tells her, "and your blood is most precious." He lets go of her hand for a moment and points a long, bony finger at the roll of parchment above them, and as the edge of it comes within his grasp, she asks, "why is my blood so precious?" He looks at her with great surprise. "You do not know?" The little tribe watches the Chronicler's every move, though Therion is silently telling them that he would never do anyone any harm, least of all her. And see, the copper-maned wizard thinks, she has no fear of him. Indeed, she does not; she gazes at him with as much wonder as she did the hovering, mysterious blade.
As he fixes the edge of the parchment to the hook on the floor, she says innocently, "you're a Vampire, aren't you? A real Vampire?" His eerie green eyes meet her bright blue ones and he gives her a slight nod. "Yes, but that is beside the point," he says as he takes her hand again and as he pulls her closer to the parchment, a lock of pale blond hair falls into his smooth, unlined face. Both Snape and Malfoy 移动 closer, uncertain of his intentions. "Come, Lady, give just a drop, and 你 shall have your answer." He holds her hand over an unseen spot on the parchment, just above where it now meets the floor, and gives her finger a squeeze. Her blood wells up and a single drop falls onto the parchment. He releases her hand immediately and nods to Malfoy, who then takes her hand and pulls her into his arms. He heals the cut on her finger with barely any effort.
When the drop of Elsbet's blood hit the parchment, there was an audible hiss; now they watch in awe as a sort of 树 draws out from that spot and they know they are seeing their Elf maiden's genealogy spread out in front of them.
She slips from Malfoy's embrace and watches the names appear as if written 由 an unseen hand, and 由 the time the scrivening ends, it is almost 更多 than she can take in. "It can't be," she whispers, and yet, she knows that it is. Blood never lies, she knows, and even as those she loves gather to see the names of her Ancestors she turns away from the parchment, weeping. The Chronicler follows her, leaving the family to deal with the truth of Ellie's identity in their own way. He acknowledges the birds as they enter the chamber, then goes to the Lady's side. The birds chatter excitedly for a few moments, then Therion begins to read the Historical Notation that has appeared near the bottom of the tree, his voice clear and steady.
Elsbet Strider descends from Elrohir, one of the twin sons of Elrond Half-Elven, Lord of Rivendell, and Celebrían, daughter of Galadriel and Celeborn. Some time after the defeat of the Dark Lord Sauron, Elrohir fell in 爱情 with Marewyn, a Shield-Maiden of Rohan, and from them rose the paternal line of Elsbet's father Elwine. Elwine's maternal line descends from a specific group of Falathrim who survived the fall of Brithombar and Eglarest; they fled along with Gil-galad and would later accompany Eärendil on his many journies into the West. Anarion, mother of Elwine Strider, was the daughter of Anandúrë and the Welsh wizard Arthfael Urien, a renown champion and healer of horses.
The paternal line of Elsbet's mother descends from a specific group of Mírdain who fled Eregion when their people fell into the service of the Dark Lord Sauron. Athlene's mother, Cliona Athella Fitzpatrick was herself Half-Elven, being the daughter of the Irish wizard Ewan Fitzpatrick and a Silvan named Athellion, who descended from Thrangundel, a sister of Thranduil, the father of Legolas Greenleaf. In her mother's tradition, Elsbet's name should have began with "Ath", but Athlene wanted her daughter to be 'strong with horses' so gave her an "El" name instead. How the line of Elrohir gained the surname 'Strider' has been 迷失 to genetic memory, but quite possibly it signifies the close relationship the descendants of the twin sons kept with those of their sister Arwen Evenstar.
One 由 one, once Therion's voice fades, they look back at her and find the Chronicler kneeling before her, holding her hands. "The Heir of Elrohir," Layne says softly, and any reservations he had about the Chronicler have left him. The pale figure is weeping as well, and gently stroking the palm of her hand. "I knew, Lady, the 日 你 first entered this city, I knew. I wished to speak with you, but when I saw 你 that day, it was too much for my 心 to bear." His gaze drops and he recovers himself, wiping his face as she touches him before she moves away. Snape and Malfoy are the last to look away from their Beloved's scroll, and when they do they look to each other. As the Chronicler rises he catches the scent of fresh blood in the air and turns, not expecting to find that Malfoy has pricked his finger. There is no need for words; the Chronicler quickly pulls down another parchment, and Malfoy lets a drop of blood fall on to it as everyone gathers to watch his scrivening begin.