Author's Note: I own none of these characters. I'm just borrowing them for a while. JRR Tolkien will get them back soon enough, and in good condition too. Don't worry. Thanks to Storm, my beta, and the Fellowship for not making fun of me when the word got out that *I* was writing a Legolas fic. Not sure what possessed me to start this, except for the fact that I was fascinated with the story of Nimrodel and Amroth. Wish there was more. Oh well. Read. Enjoy. Tell a friend. Oh, and leave me a review. Just let me know I'm doin' ok.
The Song of Nimrodel
from "Fellowship of the Ring"
An Elvin-maid there was of old, a shining star by day:
Her mantle white was hemmed with gold, her shoes of silver-grey.
A star was bound upon her brows, a light was on her hair
As sun upon the golden boughs in Lórien the fair.
Her hair was long, her limbs were white, and fair she was and free;
And in the wind she went as light as leaf of linden-tree.
Beside the falls of Nimrodel by water clear and cool,
Her voice as falling silver fell into the shining pool.
Where now she wanders none can tell, in silver or in shade;
For lost of yore was Nimrodel and in the mountains strayed.
The elven-ship in haven grey beneath the mountain-lee
Awaited her for many a day beside the roaring sea.
A wind by night in Northern lands arose, and loud it cried,
And drove the ship from elven-strands across the streaming tide.
When dawn came dim the land was lost, the mountains sinking grey
Beyond the heaving waves that tossed their plumes of blinding spray.
Amroth beheld the fading shore now low beyond the swell,
And cursed the faithless ship that bore him far from Nimrodel.
Of old he was an Elven-king, a lord of tree and glen,
When golden were the boughs in spring in fair Lothlórien.
From helm to sea they saw him leap, as arrow from the string,
And dive into the waters deep, as mew upon the wing.
The wind was in his flowing hair, the foam about him shone;
Afar they saw him strong and fair go riding like a swan.
But from the West has come no word, and on the Hither Shore
No tidings Elven-folk have heard Of Amroth evermore.
Prologue
For thousands of years, the elves of Lorien have told of a great elven King who was lost at sea. No tidings were ever heard of Amroth, who went out in search of his beloved Nimrodel, and never returned. Years passed, and those who were alive to see the loss of the elf-maiden and the Lord of Lorien began to leave for the Grey-Havens. The younger elves began to believe it a myth, the story of the lost maiden for whom the river Nimrodel was named. But the elders knew better. They can still hear the maiden's voice in the river, and see the shimmer of starlight, even on the brightest of days, within the moving water. They made sure that all elves know the song of Nimrodel, for they still hope that someday she will return, along with her beloved, to Lorien.
Now it just so happens that in those days, after the one ring of power was destroyed, that two of the Fellowship still remained together, roaming the land, for it was a promise both had made to the other. Gimli, son of Gloin, and Legolas, son of Thranduil, an unlikely pair indeed, were opening each other's eyes to the wonders of the world, that they had previously taken for granted. Gimli showed Legolas the great mountain halls, which loomed like great beasts before them. Legolas showed Gimli the great forests, and taught him to listen for the singing of the trees. He might never understand their language, but it was still an experience that left Gimli in much awe. And as they saw the known places of the world, they stumbled upon lost treasures, and finally their quest became to find these lost places, rather than to visit the ones they knew well. And so they moved to the south, into the White Mountains, for neither knew what the paths through the great snowcapped peaks would hold.