Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings, nor do I own Tim McGraw - he is all Faith Hill's.
Ramblings with Ranger: I know I'm supposed to be working on Overcome, but I couldn't get this out of my head! So I finally sat down and wrote it. This a sort-of Legolas/Lothíriel pairing. I do like Eomer/Lothíriel, but I noticed that no one had written the former pairing. Intrigued, I began contemplating this relationship and this one-shot was born of it. As I understand it, I'm the first one to ship this pairing! Or at least to post a story with this pairing on fanfic . net... This was roughly inspired by Tim McGraw's song Please Remember Me, and I do mean roughly. Happy reading!
Remember
Lothíriel sat down on the bench, her hands folded in her lap and her head bowed. Her back was to the walkway, and she worked on keeping her breathing even. She admitted to being a little apprehensive about meeting Legolas there in the garden. It was true, they had become good friends since they had met on the Field of Cormallen almost three years ago. After that day, Lothíriel had moved her residence to Minas Tirith to help the rebuilding there, where she felt she was more needed. There, she and Legolas had often met in that very garden and just talked.
Lothíriel knew her family was happy she had found a friend in Legolas, but was wary that she would grow to harbor more than friendship for the elf. She was aware of this herself, and knew that loving Legolas would bring heartache for both of them. She had always felt something for him, and it had not been many months before Lothíriel realized that she had, somewhere along the way, fallen in love with Legolas. She had made a silent promise to herself that she would never speak of it to anyone. She felt she needed to protect them both from the heartache that was sure to come from a romantic relationship between an elf and a mortal. Lothíriel knew that it may have worked for King Elessar and Queen Arwen, but she was very aware of the fact that they were very much the exception. Lothíriel was not yet willing to risk her friendship with Legolas to confess her secret.
Lothíriel was not sure how long she had been sitting there in the garden, alone with her thoughts, when she suddenly felt his presence beside her. Forcing herself to look up, Lothíriel smiled up at him. She wasn't quite sure what made her so very nervous; she normally did not feel thus. Yet there was still an ominous foreboding in the shadows of her mind. Legolas smiled down at her, extending his hand. Lothíriel smiled to herself as she accepted his hand, glad that her hands were not trembling too terribly much. Even if he questioned her on it, she could blame it on the rapidly approaching autumn.
They walked in silence for a few minutes along the paved garden path, her arm resting in the crook of his elbow. Thus far, nothing was out of the ordinary, and Lothíriel was beginning to think that she had made a warg out of a puppy. "It will soon be too chilly to walk out of doors without a cloak." Lothíriel remarked quietly, looking up at the sky. Beside her, Legolas nodded. "The passage of summer to autumn is underway."
"You never did quite like the times of passage." Legolas observed with equal softness. Lothíriel shook her head.
"I would rather it be one thing or another. I dislike the times of change." Lothíriel agreed. Legolas was quiet for a moment.
"You are also a lady who values honesty." Legolas continued. Lothíriel suddenly felt tainted, knowing that she had not been completely honest with Legolas in regards to her feelings. She knew that she had covered up her true feelings with the best of intentions, and she still believed that she had done what was best, but she felt a little guilty.
Blushing slightly and looking away, Lothíriel tried to keep her tone teasing when she spoke again. "And to what, may I ask, are all these observations leading to? Surely you must have a grand culmination in mind."
"And a barely moderated impatience." Legolas finished. He laughed quietly, releasing her arm and turning to look at her. "There truly is no other lady, whether mortal or immortal, like you." Lothíriel looked away, suddenly realizing that they had reached the very back of the garden and were now quite secluded where no one could eavesdrop. "You are returning to Dol Amroth?"
Lothíriel nodded, forcing a small smile and avoiding his eyes. "Yes. I fear that I am no longer needed here." Lothíriel paused, looking away. "I leave in a weeks time."
"So soon?" Legolas queried quietly. Lothíriel closed her eyes tightly and took a step towards the nearby rosebush at his melancholy tone, her back to her elf.
"Aye." Lothíriel briefly confirmed. She felt Legolas come up behind her. "I...I felt that the sooner I returned, the better." The garden was silent, save the merry chirping a few birds.
"Were you going to tell me yourself?" Legolas queried, softly. Lothíriel spun around, not realizing that Legolas was only a few inches away from her.
"Of course I was going to tell you!" Lothíriel protested. "I did not intend for you to hear the news secondhand." Legolas probed her gray eyes and Lothíriel held his gaze. "I was going to tell you." Lothíriel repeated, almost to herself.
"It has been almost three years since you moved here." Legolas recollected. Lothíriel swallowed hard and nodded.
"Aye. Almost three years." Lothíriel confirmed. "So short a time...and yet, so long a time. It... it will be difficult to leave, but leave I must. Only a weeks time."
"It is odd." Legolas began after a small pause. "It is odd that you would quit Minas Tirith on so short a notice." Lothíriel did not respond. How could she tell him that she had been contemplating her departure for months now? It was not that she truly felt she was no longer needed, rather she felt that she could no longer keep up her pretense. Her father, also, was anxious for his daughter, who was not yet wedded but was rapidly approaching spinsterhood.
"Perhaps not so odd." Legolas murmured to himself, observing Lothíriel's telling silence. "How long have you contemplated leaving?" Legolas' hurt tone cut Lothíriel to the core. She spun away, putting feet between them. Legolas made no move to follow, merely sadly gazed at her. "Why did you not confide in me?"
"And tell you what?" Lothíriel demanded. "That my father is trying to marry me off? I'm twenty-two, Legolas! I'm his oldest daughter and still I am unmarried. Father needs me to wed so that Seren can find her match! He fears I have been too long away."
"You have prospects here." Legolas responded. Lothíriel did not observe the queer expression on his face when he forced the words out of his throat, knowing that this conversation would only bring her pain. She laughed bitterly.
"Oh, yes. Lovely prospects they are!" Lothíriel replied sarcastically, throwing her hands in the air. "I am not the airhead they need. I do not follow orders so very well. I do not take kindly to being stomped over." Lothíriel crossed her arms over her chest and stared at a gray stone on the wall. "No. I want a husband who respects me for who I am. I want a husband who will be the leader of the house, but will take my thoughts and feelings into consideration. For a husband like that, it would be no hardship for me to submit." Lothíriel finished quietly, but bitterly, knowing that her wishes were likely to come to naught. "Besides, I am not likely to be handed off to a Gondorian. The king of Rohan seems to be at the very top of Father's list. I have barely met him! Still, this is not uncommon in Gondor, so it is not so very unexpected."
"Éomer of Rohan is a good man." Legolas said. "He will treat you with the respect you deserve." Lothíriel turned around slowly and Legolas could see that a single tear had fallen down her cheek. She sighed.
"I'm sure he is, but he is not..." Lothíriel trailed off, stopping herself from blurting out the terrible truth.
"He is not me?" Legolas finished softly. Lothíriel looked at him sharply, eyes wide. For a moment, she was too stunned to speak. Had she truly been that transparent? She liked to believe that she was adept at hiding her true feelings. Not quite anticipating this turn of events – she wasn't sure what she anticipated – Lothíriel began to walk quickly away. Legolas caught her wrist, but Lothíriel tried to pull away, not looking back at him.
"Please, let me go." Lothíriel pleaded, still trying to pull away. "Please." With one final jerk, Lothíriel slipped out of Legolas' grasp, lifted her skirts and ran as fast as she could out of the garden, ignoring Legolas' pleas for her to stop. Lothíriel did not look back.
~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~
Lothíriel had fled directly to her chamber and did not leave it for evening supper, pleading a headache. She could not face Legolas, not that night. It was too much. She knew that Legolas would never, could never, return her love. Lothíriel suspected that there was a lucky elf maid that held Legolas' heart, even if the maiden was not aware of it. Lothíriel knew that she could never compete with a fair elven maid.
Lothíriel looked up when her door opened. She was sitting in her chair by the fire in her antechamber, staring at the flames and watching the wretched letter her father had sent her burn. When she looked up, she saw that her maid and friend, Ireth, quietly enter. "My lady?" Ireth queried. Lothíriel sighed.
"What is it, Ireth?" Lothíriel asked, beckoning her young maid forward.
"You have a visitor, my lady." Ireth informed. "Shall you receive him?" Lothíriel almost shrunk back further into her chair, her pulse quickening slightly.
"Who is calling?" Lothíriel probed. Ireth blushed.
"The Lord Legolas, my lady." Ireth informed. Lothíriel inhaled sharply and immediately shook her head.
"No, no. Send my apologies to Legolas, but I am quite indisposed." Lothíriel bid. Ireth looked at her, inquiring with her eyes, but made no comment. It was indeed odd for her mistress to not admit the elf. Ireth curtseyed and obediently left to do her mistress' bidding.
Lothíriel breathed a deep sigh of relief when the door shut behind Ireth. That was one meeting avoided; Lothíriel knew that it would be increasingly difficult to avoid Legolas until her departure. Yet Lothíriel would try, nonetheless, even though Legolas would pursue her at every turn. Perhaps she was a coward for avoiding him, but Lothíriel wasn't sure she could handle actually hearing Legolas' words of rejection.
Ireth returned looking quite flushed. "Why did you send him away, my lady?" Ireth asked hesitantly. Lothíriel sighed.
"As I said, I am indisposed." Lothíriel replied, turning her attention back to the flickering flames.
"Begging your pardon, my lady, but I have served you since we were both young, and you do not seem indisposed to me." Ireth declared boldly. "Has something gone amiss between you and the elf?" Lothíriel looked at her friend sharply before quickly turning back to the fire.
"I shall retire now. I will dress for bed myself; you may go, Ireth. Good night." Lothíriel rose stiffly from her chair and shut herself in her chamber.
~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~
The next morning, Lothíriel rose early, before the sun was yet rising in the sky, and dressed. She anticipated not being out of doors much until she left the city, so she planned on venturing out early before breakfast and many had risen. Knowing the dangers of a single woman venturing far alone, Lothíriel planned on keeping near the King's house, where she resided.
Lothíriel draped her dark cloak around her shoulders and pulled the hood about her face. She slipped quietly from her room, intending to watch the sunrise from the balcony in the garden before slipping quietly back into her room before she could be discovered.
The hallways were, as Lothíriel expected, very quiet. There was some small bustle of servants preparing for the day, but Lothíriel was largely ignored as she crept through the halls. The sun was yet minutes from rising when she reached the very back of the garden. Lothíriel stopped short at the sight of the very man she wished to avoid standing with his back to her at the balcony. It was dark, but she would recognize Legolas' form anywhere. She froze, having not anticipated this. Before she could slink away, Legolas turned around. Lothíriel suddenly could not move. She silently cursed his elven hearing, knowing that he had heard her coming when she entered the garden.
"You are avoiding me." Legolas observed quietly. Lothíriel looked away.
"Trying to." Lothíriel corrected, agitated. "Obviously, I have not been successful."
"You managed well enough last night." Legolas pointed out. Lothíriel gave an unladylike snort, crossing her arms, but did not respond. "I know you too well to be fooled by such a thin excuse." Lothíriel sighed, finally stepping forward. It was useless and cowardly to run, and she was already tiring of it.
"You do not have to say it, Legolas." Lothíriel began sadly, softly. "I know that you do not return my love. Please, spare me and do not say it." Legolas gazed down at her for a moment.
"What you say is true." Legolas replied carefully. Lothíriel looked away, tears prickling at her eyes.
"I knew," Lothíriel whispered to herself, turning away. "I always knew mine was a foolish love." Lothíriel jerked away when Legolas placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. She refused to subject her body to the onslaught of emotions.
"Love is never foolish." Legolas corrected softly.
"Unwise, then." Lothíriel responded. "For I knew you would never..." Lothíriel trailed off with a sigh, looking down at the ground. "What is her name?" She could almost feel Legolas' surprise from behind her.
"Enelya." Legolas answered. "How did you know? I never mentioned her; it was too painful." Lothíriel swallowed hard.
"A woman... a woman knows these things. Your heart, it always seemed occupied elsewhere. She is unaware, yes?" Lothíriel did not allow Legolas time to respond. "I do not think you told her. I believe she has sailed across the sea, but still you love her and cannot give your heart to another."
"Yes." Legolas confirmed in wonder.
"I did not wish to tell you of my feelings." Lothíriel began. "I did not want to place you, to place us, in an awkward and unwanted situation. I deduced that your heart belonged to another, and I believed, and still do, that it is unfair to place you in a situation such as this. For this, I apologize. I did not intend to have a need for this conversation." Silence descended for a moment. Lothíriel barely registered that the sun was beginning to rise.
"You are correct, that I could not return your love." Legolas began. "But you are yet young, Lothíriel, even in the eyes of your race. You are beautiful, and wise. You will find love again." Legolas' kind words did nothing to assuage Lothíriel aching heart. "You'll find a better love, one as deep as the sea you love."
Lothíriel held her tongue. She did not believe his words, kind as they were. "I received a letter from my father last night. He seeks my consent to offer me to the king of Rohan. A grand alliance, Father calls it." Lothíriel said before she could stop yourself. She did not mean to share this. "I'm sorry, I did not mean to share that." Lothíriel blurted earnestly. Placing a hand to her cheek, Lothíriel looked further away, cursing the slip of her tongue.
"You will do well with Éomer." Legolas advised. Lothíriel ran a hand through her hair.
"Yes, yes, I know. Father has made sure to tell me that more times than I can count, and even my brothers have more than agreed to this great match." Lothíriel replied, agitated. "Please, for my sanity, please do not mention this to me, ever. I need my peace of mind to contemplate Father's offer."
"As you wish." Legolas consented. Silence descended. Legolas turned to fully look at her. "One day, you will realize that I am not the one for you." Legolas said quietly. Lothíriel paused.
"I will remember you, Legolas Greenleaf." Lothíriel murmured, looking deep into his eyes.
"And I you, Lothíriel of Dol Amroth," Legolas replied honestly. "But we are not for each other." Lothíriel swallowed hard.
"Goodbye, Legolas."