"Overcoming Boundaries" by ~*Monica da magickal
elf©*~legolasfaerie87@yahoo.com
This story is very personal to me. It sort of relates to the way of how people take their ignorance and use it to destroy others. We all might be able to relate to it! Enjoy please! Pour Ena- Legolas est très mignon, je ne soigne pas que tu pense! Bien que j'aime Legolas, Haldir est mon seul vrai amour! ( Notes are at the bottom also!
Lord of the Rings and related characters and words are property of J.R.R. Tolkien. Ireth Ar-feiniel is my own personal elvish character and her people, the Lómëlond belong to me although they are elvish words, which belong to J.R.R. Tolkien. If you wish to use the characters please e-mail me first. Oh and also, the quote about "Blood around the moon, trouble looms" is from "Practical Magic". Also, the language that I created for the Lómë people is a combination of French, Spanish, and Japanese and some freelance Gibberish. (
Chapter 1- History learned and Bashful Legolas
"And so Legolas, you must understand. You cannot waste away over a silly mortal girl of whom you did not know." King Thranduil held his head high, his blue eyes gleaming coldly in the candle lit room. In front of him lay his son, who was in his bed in his room, which was nicely furnished. The room was decorated with earthy colors, the floor a superb polished wood. Vines and trees grew inside from the porch and the huge windows, while Legolas' bed was adorned with silk green linen and lilies atop the canopy. Legolas usually loved his room, but at the moment he loathed it. He loathed everything. Even immortality. And he also loathed the fact that a girl, of whom he had not even spoken a word to, had died in a tragic situation. The tragic situation however was something that he not want to think about. All he could think about was her cold rigid body, her lifeless face contorted with shock.
"Carmillinaë." he whispered softly into his soft white pillow. Thranduil sighed and turned on his heel to leave, exasperated and fed up with his son. His guards then soon followed suit, but stopped when Thranduil had reached the doors. The proud King turned his head, his fair hair gleaming from the soft moonlight beams.
"Legolas," he began softly. "I hope you remember your duty as a prince.and I hope you snap out of this foolishness quickly." He left then, his guards boots clapping rhythmically against the hard wood floors. Legolas waited to hear his door close and when it did, he sat up in his large bed. He then fixated his eyes on the full moon that was clearly visible in front of him. There was a red ring around it; blood around the moon, trouble looms. He thought it quite appropriate for his situation, although it gave him no piece of mind. All he wanted was to get rid of the terrible thoughts and mostly of all, his broken heart. Pushing his green sheets back, Legolas stepped out of his bed, his bare feet hitting the cold floor. But he made no recognition of it. Instead, he walked to his looking glass and peered into it. It was a gift from his Mother before she had left to live with the Elves in Lothlorien. It was beautiful with a silver frame that had the Tengwar inscribed on it. It said in the common tongue,
"To my beautiful Greenleaf, may you fall far from the tree that bore you." Legolas
understood what she meant, as did his father. His mother did not want him to become like his Father. And by that she meant for him to love and love dearly. And that's what he had done, and he had gotten no sort of gratification with it. All he got out of it was a broken heart and a tongue that had never said what it was meant to say. Carmillinaë was a mortal girl, and she had lived in a small man village not far from Mirkwood. She used to go hunting in the forests with her older brothers and there Legolas had seen her. He had been walking through the forests admiring the birds and the flowers and the many different varieties of foliage. That is when he had stumbled across her path, but did not say a word. He could remember her face clearly; her clear green eyes, her porcelain skin that was flushed red after chasing her brothers and her red long, curly hair that gave off the impression of fiery ringlets going down her back.
He had gone back through those woods just to see her. He would sit on a rock that was perched amongst a beaver dam and would smoke a pipe until he saw her. She would come bounding through the woods with a basket over her right forearm, singing a happy song about the sun and the moon and the birds and why life was so beautiful. Legolas would grin then, but remained unnoticed and silent for fear that she would be frightened to know of an Elf watching her every move. And it was for that very moment after she died, Legolas regretted never talking to her.
He had never known her, except for her name. But he had heard it when her brothers would call for her to come back to the village. Legolas stared back at his somber reflection in the mirror. His once radiant eyes held no twinkle, his golden hair held no shine. He was fading slowly, on the account of his broken heart. Smirking bitterly, he picked up a comb and began to run it through his hair. He thought it odd for one to be immortal, but yet to die of silly human emotions such as a broken heart. But he did not think of it for long, for he knew that everything had to die one way or another. But his father didn't want him to die anytime soon. He actually wished for Legolas to stop behaving as a love starved fool.
He had sent plenty of Elven whores to Legolas' bedchamber, but they had left disappointed and unsuccessful. Not one girl could break Legolas out of his spell, except for one. But she was neither whore nor maiden of some important noble family. She was nothing more than a keeper, a special sort of maid. She was the only person who could spend time with Legolas and keep his secrets and talk to him. She was also the only person who could do his laundry, his cooking and even at some occasions, picking out his wardrobe for the day. But she hadn't done that in days because Legolas had not eaten or gotten out of bed in days. She would just sit there at the foot of his bed and tell him stories from her culture. Her culture however was an entirely different race of elves. She came from the land of Lómëlond (Twilight Haven) where the language and appearance of elves was completely different from those who were common to Middle Earth. Their skin was dark and varied from different complexions. Some were as dark as ebony while some were the color of caramel.
Ireth, that was her name, was the color of caramel and Legolas thought her quite beautiful and exotic. She was a firecracker, full of energy and always spoke her mind around Legolas, as she had done when they were children. Although Lómë were told to be quite treacherous and untrustworthy, Legolas thought them to be different and not quite understood. They were resented, although they had one of the biggest strongholds over Middle Earth. Their kingdom alone was a sight to behold. There were castles that were made of Black marble and shined brightly from the moonlight. 'Twas always dark in Lómëlond, no matter what. The sun had seemed to stray far from that land, and had been shunned to the East, never to return, whereas the sun always rises as dawn awakens. But to talk about the Kingdom of Lómëlond and of it's people, and most importantly, Ireth we must know the history. The history of Lómë is quite simple to understand yet it is not for the faint of heart.
The Sindar, known as the Elves of Twilight, became bound to the Lómë when King Thranduil had established his kingdom in the north of Mirkwood, a popular refuge for those of Lómë descent. He heeded them a warning to leave, but the Lómë refused. They wanted their refuge, for it was a place where the royalty and nobility of the great kingdom rested. But King Thranduil did not subside to their petty protests. He imprisoned them, making them slaves to his will. The great King, Mineros Bwatana the 3rd escaped from the northern Woodland realm. When he reached the city of Lómë Reana, his ran to his son pleading for help and to gather an army to release the peoples of their land. But his son, the Prince of Lómëlond, who was greatly spoiled and resented his father, had him executed for madness. This whole plot however, had secret lining. The Prince had made a deal with King Thranduil. He was to send the exiled, people with debt, or anyone that displeased him to Mirkwood for them to work hard. For Lómëlond was in great debt, on account of Mineros Bwatana, the late ruler of the darkened land.
Thranduil then supplied the land with riches and aid, but had held his promise with the Prince for decades. And so, having a Lómë around Mirkwood was thought to be normal. The Prince usually shipped out pregnant women with debt or pregnant widows, to ensure more workers for Lómë's 'Savior', King Thranduil.
And thus, a woman named Ebremniel Ar-feiniel and the future Ireth Ar- feiniel (who was in her Mother's stomach) were brought to Mirkwood and had lived there for nearly 2,000 years. Ireth was born in Mirkwood at about the same time as Legolas was conceived. As they grew older, Ireth began to stay with Legolas, the King's orders. Thranduil had taken a liking to Ireth when she was born because of her immense beauty, and promised her Mother that she would be the Prince's own Keeper. Being a stuffy and selfish child, Legolas had inherited his father's hatred and feel of superiority over the race of the Lómë. Ireth, who was the same age as Legolas, had dealt with his taunting, kicking, biting and hitting everyday for the next 2 years. When they turned 20 (age 6 in human years), Legolas had still kept up the abuse until finally one day, Ireth punched him in the nose, sending him crying to his Father. Legolas grinned faintly, remembering it. He had run into his Father's court, much deserved blood spurting from his nose. He also remembered his Father slapping Ireth sharply across the face and throwing her around. That made his smile fade away. At that moment, as he saw his Father's Elven face contort into a way that it made him seem like an Orc, when he slapped Ireth, he saw the wrong in it. That was the day when Legolas became friends with Ireth, and vowed to her that he would never get her into trouble again nor let his father touch her. But he could not.
As the years passed, they both grew beautifully, their Elven bodies taking on their permanent form. Ireth had grown to be a very beautiful girl with a slender body, bright hazelnut eyes and full lips. Her braids had also grown longer, down to her waist. In Lómë tradition, a girl had to wear her hair in tiny braids at all times until she was married. When she was married, she could then cut off her braids and have a short haircut. It was quite a sight to see Ireth's braids. Black with a red tint they were, and it went perfectly with her skin. They were also adorned with Lómë beads that were dark blues and silvers. Legolas on the other hand had turned into a very handsome Light elf. His hair was blond, his eyes were of a shady melancholic blue and his skin was reminiscent to that of porcelain. All in all they were both two beautiful young elves, yet they had different parts in life. Although they were friends, they kept their friendship secret. Legolas was seen as royalty, and therefore superior to the mere "common rustics" that were referred to many of the Lómë people. Ireth was still only seen as his Keeper, and in public he ignored her and sometimes yelled at her if she did something wrong. But when in private, they could've been mistaken for a brother and sister. When they were together, Legolas kept her safe from his Father. But soon did he find out that his Father had already reached his hand out to his Ireth.
Knock knock. Legolas looked up from his mirror over to his door, where Ireth stood. She must've come into the room as he was staring at his reflection. On her face she had an apprehensive look, but her gaze was still straightforward. She was wearing her Keeper garb, a white gown with long sleeves and a silver girdle. Her braids hung free down her back and swayed gently at every move. And at some moment then, Legolas felt calm and relaxed at her presence, almost causing him to forget his grieving.
"Master Legolas, are you ready for your dinner?" she asked in Sindarin. Although she spoke to him in her own tongue at times, it was customary for the workers to speak in Sindarin in public. She couldn't risk being heard by a guard. Legolas stared at her for a moment then, and shook his head.
"I have not hunger for food," he said quietly. "Only a hunger for the girl that has passed into the Halls of the Unknown." To that response, Ireth sighed heavily, closed the chamber door and locked it. She then walked over to Legolas, her white gown rustling softly and her slippers clapping softly on the wooden floor. Legolas stared at her with sorrowful eyes, and it almost choked her with sympathy. She raised her hand to touch him on the face, his expression still sour. Why must he be this way? Thought Ireth. He was starting to bug her. She took her hand away from his face and ran her eyes over him. Then without warning she slapped him sharply across the face, much to his surprise. It left a mark.
"My dear Prince," she paused and brushed a braid out of her face. "You did not even know the girl. What if she were completely horrible? Wouldn't that be a waste if you died over a silly love spell!" Her brown face was slowly turning red, which only happened when she was annoyed. Legolas regained his composure then, rubbing his cheek gingerly.
"That stung," he replied. Ireth smirked and placed her hands on her hips, her silver bangles jangling nicely.
"Good, maybe it'll wake you up from this terrible dream." Legolas strode over to his bed and sat down, running his fingers through his hair.
"Do not forget your place Ireth, and do not hit me again," he said firmly, reaching for his wrinkled and unkempt shirt that lay on the floor. Ireth snorted and walked over to him, snatching the shirt away from his hands. Even if you were an Elf, some of them still had bad male instincts.
"Look at this shirt you should be ashamed," she said while shaking her head. "And I'll hit you whenever I wish to." She then walked over to his wardrobe and opened the wooden doors, running her hand through the clothes. He had all sorts of beautiful imported fabrics in colors of metallic blue and deep greens and pale yellows.
"You must go down for dinner," she said absentmindedly, while taking down a blue dressing shirt. Legolas lay back on his bed, blinking. His Father still didn't understand did he?
"I will not eat until my heart has mended it's wounds," he replied somberly. Silence followed that remark, and for a fleeting second, Legolas thought to have taken Ireth over, and she would leave him alone. But then he only realized that she wasn't listening to him, but singing a song in her own tongue. She soon walked over to him with her arms filled with clean clothes, dumping them on top oh his face.
"Your hair needs braiding also, so get up so I can do it.tiyë!" she said, adding 'now' in Lómë into the sentence. Pushing the clothes off his face, he did as he was told and sat up, Ireth getting on the bed and onto her knees, positioning herself behind him. Legolas sighed as he felt the comb undo his untidy braid in the back, Ireth grinning.
"Yuë danarä, j'ín wêna siqoui yuë.(You know, I do care about you)," she said softly in Lómë. She finished unbraiding the hair and ran her slim brown fingers through it. Legolas nodded slowly, biting his nails. It was a bad habit and he needed to stop. He rolled his eyes quietly, he knew his Father would have an uproar if he knew that a Prince owned those nails! Dear Valar. He did not feel like seeing his father that night. "Do I have to go to dinner?" he asked slowly, sounding like a toddler who didn't want to go to daycare. "Did he ask for me exclusively?" Ireth nodded although Legolas did not see.
"Aye, zen ín (yes, he did)," she replied, starting to weave his golden hair together fluidly. There was silence then, the only sound coming from Legolas' hair being braided together and Ireth's silent humming. When she finished, she got up from the bed and crossed over to Legolas' table, grabbing a wooden box from it. It was beautifully decorated with carvings of leaves and celestial objects. 'Twas another gift from his mother before she left him to live in Imladris.
"Do you wish to wear beads or sport a circlet around your brow Legolas?" she asked in rapid Lómë, opening the box and revealing to him the objects inside. She blinked down at him, her hazel eyes lit with light. Legolas however stayed quiet.
"Well?" she said, pushing the box towards him.
"Well what?" replied Legolas stubbornly.
"Well what are you going to do?" she said, only a little more angrily. Legolas sighed and heaved his shoulders, lazily thrusting his hand into the box amid the beads and jewelry. But even after a few minutes he removed his hand with nothing, shrugging.
"I don't want anything Ireth," he said quietly. He then got up, pushing Ireth slightly away from him, much to her dislike. She turned angrily to see where he was going, only to spot him going into his washroom. Setting down the box on the bed, Ireth put her hands on he hips and sported a glare so deadly it could've killed. She then heard his voice yelling from the lavatory.
"Can you draw me a bath Ireth?" he asked in Lómë, removing his leggings from behind a curtain in the lavatory. "Perhaps I could drown in the water to end my suffering." He waited for her to reply and come to the lavatory but little did he know that Ireth wasn't listening to him. She didn't reply nor did Legolas hear her shoes clapping across the floor.
"Ireth?" he said hopefully. Surely she didn't leave him, he would've heard the door close. But no, when he did not hear her footsteps or her breathing, he figured her gone.
"Thank you Ireth for staying around a while longer," he remarked bitterly to himself. He then pulled back the curtains and prepared himself to get into the pool that was already filled with water, but was cold. But to his complete horror, he saw Ireth standing right in front of him with her arms crossed and a look of pure indignation on her pretty face. But he wasn't worried about the look on her face! He was naked! Blushing furiously then, he jumped right back behind the curtain and cursed in Sindarin.
"Ireth!" he exclaimed, his face the color of a ripe tomato. "Have you lost your senses? You mustn't see me like this! It's most unproper!" After he had practically yelled those words, he heard nothing else except for the clicking of Ireth's tongue. It was then that he knew that Ireth was in no mood to be trifled with. Surprisingly then, Ireth snatched back the curtains and smirked.
"Its not like I haven't seen a naked Elf before Legolas, come now to your senses." She ran her eyes over his nude body (which was now flushed red from extreme embarrassment) and clicked her teeth.
"There is already a bath drawn for you, though it is cold. I shall not fetch any hot water now for I am tired and do not feel like it. So hurry up, get dressed and come down to the main Hall quickly. It's not my fancy to have your Father hit me because of your own selfishness and stubbornness!" She then turned quickly, her braids whipping Legolas in the face softly. They smelled of lilacs Legolas observed.
"Ireth! Wait!" he said. She turned around to look back at him, her hand on the doorknob of which was covered with vines.
"Yes?" she said, her eyebrows raised. Legolas took a step forward towards her, suddenly remembering that he was naked. He covered himself up and blinked.
"I'm sorry if I'm being difficult, but I'm sure you understand what I am going through," he said. Ireth shrugged and raised her hand automatically to begin playing with her braids.
"If you are referring to Liniel, that wasn't true love. It was hypocrisy at it's best." She looked over to the pool and nodded her head. "Take your bath Prince." She then left and closed the door, sliding down it slowly and burying her head into her lap. Liniel she thought bitterly. Why did Legolas have to bring memories of him to her? She hated that man, although she was to be his wife until he was killed by.it didn't matter. Standing up, she brushed off her dress and left Legolas' room, closing the door behind her quietly, silently hoping that Legolas would come down to dinner so she would not have to suffer his blows.
***** Notes: For the 'elven whores', my friend came up with that one day when we were talking about what are 'occupation' would be if we were Elves. And.that was the result unfortunately! Oh and by the way, I will have a full completely dictionary and instructions on how to speak the Lómë language soon enough! Yes! I actually created a full language! That's how much time I have on my hands! Please read this story and enjoy it! Merci beaucoup ^_~
~*monica da magickal elf©*~
This story is very personal to me. It sort of relates to the way of how people take their ignorance and use it to destroy others. We all might be able to relate to it! Enjoy please! Pour Ena- Legolas est très mignon, je ne soigne pas que tu pense! Bien que j'aime Legolas, Haldir est mon seul vrai amour! ( Notes are at the bottom also!
Lord of the Rings and related characters and words are property of J.R.R. Tolkien. Ireth Ar-feiniel is my own personal elvish character and her people, the Lómëlond belong to me although they are elvish words, which belong to J.R.R. Tolkien. If you wish to use the characters please e-mail me first. Oh and also, the quote about "Blood around the moon, trouble looms" is from "Practical Magic". Also, the language that I created for the Lómë people is a combination of French, Spanish, and Japanese and some freelance Gibberish. (
Chapter 1- History learned and Bashful Legolas
"And so Legolas, you must understand. You cannot waste away over a silly mortal girl of whom you did not know." King Thranduil held his head high, his blue eyes gleaming coldly in the candle lit room. In front of him lay his son, who was in his bed in his room, which was nicely furnished. The room was decorated with earthy colors, the floor a superb polished wood. Vines and trees grew inside from the porch and the huge windows, while Legolas' bed was adorned with silk green linen and lilies atop the canopy. Legolas usually loved his room, but at the moment he loathed it. He loathed everything. Even immortality. And he also loathed the fact that a girl, of whom he had not even spoken a word to, had died in a tragic situation. The tragic situation however was something that he not want to think about. All he could think about was her cold rigid body, her lifeless face contorted with shock.
"Carmillinaë." he whispered softly into his soft white pillow. Thranduil sighed and turned on his heel to leave, exasperated and fed up with his son. His guards then soon followed suit, but stopped when Thranduil had reached the doors. The proud King turned his head, his fair hair gleaming from the soft moonlight beams.
"Legolas," he began softly. "I hope you remember your duty as a prince.and I hope you snap out of this foolishness quickly." He left then, his guards boots clapping rhythmically against the hard wood floors. Legolas waited to hear his door close and when it did, he sat up in his large bed. He then fixated his eyes on the full moon that was clearly visible in front of him. There was a red ring around it; blood around the moon, trouble looms. He thought it quite appropriate for his situation, although it gave him no piece of mind. All he wanted was to get rid of the terrible thoughts and mostly of all, his broken heart. Pushing his green sheets back, Legolas stepped out of his bed, his bare feet hitting the cold floor. But he made no recognition of it. Instead, he walked to his looking glass and peered into it. It was a gift from his Mother before she had left to live with the Elves in Lothlorien. It was beautiful with a silver frame that had the Tengwar inscribed on it. It said in the common tongue,
"To my beautiful Greenleaf, may you fall far from the tree that bore you." Legolas
understood what she meant, as did his father. His mother did not want him to become like his Father. And by that she meant for him to love and love dearly. And that's what he had done, and he had gotten no sort of gratification with it. All he got out of it was a broken heart and a tongue that had never said what it was meant to say. Carmillinaë was a mortal girl, and she had lived in a small man village not far from Mirkwood. She used to go hunting in the forests with her older brothers and there Legolas had seen her. He had been walking through the forests admiring the birds and the flowers and the many different varieties of foliage. That is when he had stumbled across her path, but did not say a word. He could remember her face clearly; her clear green eyes, her porcelain skin that was flushed red after chasing her brothers and her red long, curly hair that gave off the impression of fiery ringlets going down her back.
He had gone back through those woods just to see her. He would sit on a rock that was perched amongst a beaver dam and would smoke a pipe until he saw her. She would come bounding through the woods with a basket over her right forearm, singing a happy song about the sun and the moon and the birds and why life was so beautiful. Legolas would grin then, but remained unnoticed and silent for fear that she would be frightened to know of an Elf watching her every move. And it was for that very moment after she died, Legolas regretted never talking to her.
He had never known her, except for her name. But he had heard it when her brothers would call for her to come back to the village. Legolas stared back at his somber reflection in the mirror. His once radiant eyes held no twinkle, his golden hair held no shine. He was fading slowly, on the account of his broken heart. Smirking bitterly, he picked up a comb and began to run it through his hair. He thought it odd for one to be immortal, but yet to die of silly human emotions such as a broken heart. But he did not think of it for long, for he knew that everything had to die one way or another. But his father didn't want him to die anytime soon. He actually wished for Legolas to stop behaving as a love starved fool.
He had sent plenty of Elven whores to Legolas' bedchamber, but they had left disappointed and unsuccessful. Not one girl could break Legolas out of his spell, except for one. But she was neither whore nor maiden of some important noble family. She was nothing more than a keeper, a special sort of maid. She was the only person who could spend time with Legolas and keep his secrets and talk to him. She was also the only person who could do his laundry, his cooking and even at some occasions, picking out his wardrobe for the day. But she hadn't done that in days because Legolas had not eaten or gotten out of bed in days. She would just sit there at the foot of his bed and tell him stories from her culture. Her culture however was an entirely different race of elves. She came from the land of Lómëlond (Twilight Haven) where the language and appearance of elves was completely different from those who were common to Middle Earth. Their skin was dark and varied from different complexions. Some were as dark as ebony while some were the color of caramel.
Ireth, that was her name, was the color of caramel and Legolas thought her quite beautiful and exotic. She was a firecracker, full of energy and always spoke her mind around Legolas, as she had done when they were children. Although Lómë were told to be quite treacherous and untrustworthy, Legolas thought them to be different and not quite understood. They were resented, although they had one of the biggest strongholds over Middle Earth. Their kingdom alone was a sight to behold. There were castles that were made of Black marble and shined brightly from the moonlight. 'Twas always dark in Lómëlond, no matter what. The sun had seemed to stray far from that land, and had been shunned to the East, never to return, whereas the sun always rises as dawn awakens. But to talk about the Kingdom of Lómëlond and of it's people, and most importantly, Ireth we must know the history. The history of Lómë is quite simple to understand yet it is not for the faint of heart.
The Sindar, known as the Elves of Twilight, became bound to the Lómë when King Thranduil had established his kingdom in the north of Mirkwood, a popular refuge for those of Lómë descent. He heeded them a warning to leave, but the Lómë refused. They wanted their refuge, for it was a place where the royalty and nobility of the great kingdom rested. But King Thranduil did not subside to their petty protests. He imprisoned them, making them slaves to his will. The great King, Mineros Bwatana the 3rd escaped from the northern Woodland realm. When he reached the city of Lómë Reana, his ran to his son pleading for help and to gather an army to release the peoples of their land. But his son, the Prince of Lómëlond, who was greatly spoiled and resented his father, had him executed for madness. This whole plot however, had secret lining. The Prince had made a deal with King Thranduil. He was to send the exiled, people with debt, or anyone that displeased him to Mirkwood for them to work hard. For Lómëlond was in great debt, on account of Mineros Bwatana, the late ruler of the darkened land.
Thranduil then supplied the land with riches and aid, but had held his promise with the Prince for decades. And so, having a Lómë around Mirkwood was thought to be normal. The Prince usually shipped out pregnant women with debt or pregnant widows, to ensure more workers for Lómë's 'Savior', King Thranduil.
And thus, a woman named Ebremniel Ar-feiniel and the future Ireth Ar- feiniel (who was in her Mother's stomach) were brought to Mirkwood and had lived there for nearly 2,000 years. Ireth was born in Mirkwood at about the same time as Legolas was conceived. As they grew older, Ireth began to stay with Legolas, the King's orders. Thranduil had taken a liking to Ireth when she was born because of her immense beauty, and promised her Mother that she would be the Prince's own Keeper. Being a stuffy and selfish child, Legolas had inherited his father's hatred and feel of superiority over the race of the Lómë. Ireth, who was the same age as Legolas, had dealt with his taunting, kicking, biting and hitting everyday for the next 2 years. When they turned 20 (age 6 in human years), Legolas had still kept up the abuse until finally one day, Ireth punched him in the nose, sending him crying to his Father. Legolas grinned faintly, remembering it. He had run into his Father's court, much deserved blood spurting from his nose. He also remembered his Father slapping Ireth sharply across the face and throwing her around. That made his smile fade away. At that moment, as he saw his Father's Elven face contort into a way that it made him seem like an Orc, when he slapped Ireth, he saw the wrong in it. That was the day when Legolas became friends with Ireth, and vowed to her that he would never get her into trouble again nor let his father touch her. But he could not.
As the years passed, they both grew beautifully, their Elven bodies taking on their permanent form. Ireth had grown to be a very beautiful girl with a slender body, bright hazelnut eyes and full lips. Her braids had also grown longer, down to her waist. In Lómë tradition, a girl had to wear her hair in tiny braids at all times until she was married. When she was married, she could then cut off her braids and have a short haircut. It was quite a sight to see Ireth's braids. Black with a red tint they were, and it went perfectly with her skin. They were also adorned with Lómë beads that were dark blues and silvers. Legolas on the other hand had turned into a very handsome Light elf. His hair was blond, his eyes were of a shady melancholic blue and his skin was reminiscent to that of porcelain. All in all they were both two beautiful young elves, yet they had different parts in life. Although they were friends, they kept their friendship secret. Legolas was seen as royalty, and therefore superior to the mere "common rustics" that were referred to many of the Lómë people. Ireth was still only seen as his Keeper, and in public he ignored her and sometimes yelled at her if she did something wrong. But when in private, they could've been mistaken for a brother and sister. When they were together, Legolas kept her safe from his Father. But soon did he find out that his Father had already reached his hand out to his Ireth.
Knock knock. Legolas looked up from his mirror over to his door, where Ireth stood. She must've come into the room as he was staring at his reflection. On her face she had an apprehensive look, but her gaze was still straightforward. She was wearing her Keeper garb, a white gown with long sleeves and a silver girdle. Her braids hung free down her back and swayed gently at every move. And at some moment then, Legolas felt calm and relaxed at her presence, almost causing him to forget his grieving.
"Master Legolas, are you ready for your dinner?" she asked in Sindarin. Although she spoke to him in her own tongue at times, it was customary for the workers to speak in Sindarin in public. She couldn't risk being heard by a guard. Legolas stared at her for a moment then, and shook his head.
"I have not hunger for food," he said quietly. "Only a hunger for the girl that has passed into the Halls of the Unknown." To that response, Ireth sighed heavily, closed the chamber door and locked it. She then walked over to Legolas, her white gown rustling softly and her slippers clapping softly on the wooden floor. Legolas stared at her with sorrowful eyes, and it almost choked her with sympathy. She raised her hand to touch him on the face, his expression still sour. Why must he be this way? Thought Ireth. He was starting to bug her. She took her hand away from his face and ran her eyes over him. Then without warning she slapped him sharply across the face, much to his surprise. It left a mark.
"My dear Prince," she paused and brushed a braid out of her face. "You did not even know the girl. What if she were completely horrible? Wouldn't that be a waste if you died over a silly love spell!" Her brown face was slowly turning red, which only happened when she was annoyed. Legolas regained his composure then, rubbing his cheek gingerly.
"That stung," he replied. Ireth smirked and placed her hands on her hips, her silver bangles jangling nicely.
"Good, maybe it'll wake you up from this terrible dream." Legolas strode over to his bed and sat down, running his fingers through his hair.
"Do not forget your place Ireth, and do not hit me again," he said firmly, reaching for his wrinkled and unkempt shirt that lay on the floor. Ireth snorted and walked over to him, snatching the shirt away from his hands. Even if you were an Elf, some of them still had bad male instincts.
"Look at this shirt you should be ashamed," she said while shaking her head. "And I'll hit you whenever I wish to." She then walked over to his wardrobe and opened the wooden doors, running her hand through the clothes. He had all sorts of beautiful imported fabrics in colors of metallic blue and deep greens and pale yellows.
"You must go down for dinner," she said absentmindedly, while taking down a blue dressing shirt. Legolas lay back on his bed, blinking. His Father still didn't understand did he?
"I will not eat until my heart has mended it's wounds," he replied somberly. Silence followed that remark, and for a fleeting second, Legolas thought to have taken Ireth over, and she would leave him alone. But then he only realized that she wasn't listening to him, but singing a song in her own tongue. She soon walked over to him with her arms filled with clean clothes, dumping them on top oh his face.
"Your hair needs braiding also, so get up so I can do it.tiyë!" she said, adding 'now' in Lómë into the sentence. Pushing the clothes off his face, he did as he was told and sat up, Ireth getting on the bed and onto her knees, positioning herself behind him. Legolas sighed as he felt the comb undo his untidy braid in the back, Ireth grinning.
"Yuë danarä, j'ín wêna siqoui yuë.(You know, I do care about you)," she said softly in Lómë. She finished unbraiding the hair and ran her slim brown fingers through it. Legolas nodded slowly, biting his nails. It was a bad habit and he needed to stop. He rolled his eyes quietly, he knew his Father would have an uproar if he knew that a Prince owned those nails! Dear Valar. He did not feel like seeing his father that night. "Do I have to go to dinner?" he asked slowly, sounding like a toddler who didn't want to go to daycare. "Did he ask for me exclusively?" Ireth nodded although Legolas did not see.
"Aye, zen ín (yes, he did)," she replied, starting to weave his golden hair together fluidly. There was silence then, the only sound coming from Legolas' hair being braided together and Ireth's silent humming. When she finished, she got up from the bed and crossed over to Legolas' table, grabbing a wooden box from it. It was beautifully decorated with carvings of leaves and celestial objects. 'Twas another gift from his mother before she left him to live in Imladris.
"Do you wish to wear beads or sport a circlet around your brow Legolas?" she asked in rapid Lómë, opening the box and revealing to him the objects inside. She blinked down at him, her hazel eyes lit with light. Legolas however stayed quiet.
"Well?" she said, pushing the box towards him.
"Well what?" replied Legolas stubbornly.
"Well what are you going to do?" she said, only a little more angrily. Legolas sighed and heaved his shoulders, lazily thrusting his hand into the box amid the beads and jewelry. But even after a few minutes he removed his hand with nothing, shrugging.
"I don't want anything Ireth," he said quietly. He then got up, pushing Ireth slightly away from him, much to her dislike. She turned angrily to see where he was going, only to spot him going into his washroom. Setting down the box on the bed, Ireth put her hands on he hips and sported a glare so deadly it could've killed. She then heard his voice yelling from the lavatory.
"Can you draw me a bath Ireth?" he asked in Lómë, removing his leggings from behind a curtain in the lavatory. "Perhaps I could drown in the water to end my suffering." He waited for her to reply and come to the lavatory but little did he know that Ireth wasn't listening to him. She didn't reply nor did Legolas hear her shoes clapping across the floor.
"Ireth?" he said hopefully. Surely she didn't leave him, he would've heard the door close. But no, when he did not hear her footsteps or her breathing, he figured her gone.
"Thank you Ireth for staying around a while longer," he remarked bitterly to himself. He then pulled back the curtains and prepared himself to get into the pool that was already filled with water, but was cold. But to his complete horror, he saw Ireth standing right in front of him with her arms crossed and a look of pure indignation on her pretty face. But he wasn't worried about the look on her face! He was naked! Blushing furiously then, he jumped right back behind the curtain and cursed in Sindarin.
"Ireth!" he exclaimed, his face the color of a ripe tomato. "Have you lost your senses? You mustn't see me like this! It's most unproper!" After he had practically yelled those words, he heard nothing else except for the clicking of Ireth's tongue. It was then that he knew that Ireth was in no mood to be trifled with. Surprisingly then, Ireth snatched back the curtains and smirked.
"Its not like I haven't seen a naked Elf before Legolas, come now to your senses." She ran her eyes over his nude body (which was now flushed red from extreme embarrassment) and clicked her teeth.
"There is already a bath drawn for you, though it is cold. I shall not fetch any hot water now for I am tired and do not feel like it. So hurry up, get dressed and come down to the main Hall quickly. It's not my fancy to have your Father hit me because of your own selfishness and stubbornness!" She then turned quickly, her braids whipping Legolas in the face softly. They smelled of lilacs Legolas observed.
"Ireth! Wait!" he said. She turned around to look back at him, her hand on the doorknob of which was covered with vines.
"Yes?" she said, her eyebrows raised. Legolas took a step forward towards her, suddenly remembering that he was naked. He covered himself up and blinked.
"I'm sorry if I'm being difficult, but I'm sure you understand what I am going through," he said. Ireth shrugged and raised her hand automatically to begin playing with her braids.
"If you are referring to Liniel, that wasn't true love. It was hypocrisy at it's best." She looked over to the pool and nodded her head. "Take your bath Prince." She then left and closed the door, sliding down it slowly and burying her head into her lap. Liniel she thought bitterly. Why did Legolas have to bring memories of him to her? She hated that man, although she was to be his wife until he was killed by.it didn't matter. Standing up, she brushed off her dress and left Legolas' room, closing the door behind her quietly, silently hoping that Legolas would come down to dinner so she would not have to suffer his blows.
***** Notes: For the 'elven whores', my friend came up with that one day when we were talking about what are 'occupation' would be if we were Elves. And.that was the result unfortunately! Oh and by the way, I will have a full completely dictionary and instructions on how to speak the Lómë language soon enough! Yes! I actually created a full language! That's how much time I have on my hands! Please read this story and enjoy it! Merci beaucoup ^_~
~*monica da magickal elf©*~