Through Darkness and Despair
Chapter 1: A Walk to Remember
Legolas Greenleaf, son of King Thranduil of Mirkwood forest, was gazing silently out of the window of the Lord of Rivendell's palace. With his keen elven eyes, he could see little children playing in the lush, green valley of Rivendell. Ahh, how carefree and joyous it would be to be young again, Legolas thought to himself. As an elf prince, he was thought of as young, but right now, he was feeling all of his 2,834 years. Legolas was pondering the Lord of Mordor's rise against Middle-Earth. The Council of Elrond was due to start any moment, and that was the issue that they were about to discuss that day. He admitted to himself, to be sitting among all the high ranked peoples of Middle-earth, oh what an honor! Legolas suddenly hears a sharp rap at the door.
"My lord," a servant's muffled voice said from outside the thick wooden door, "The Council of Elrond will soon begin."
"Where has all the time gone?" Legolas muttered to himself as he crossed the room.
He straightened his silky moonlight colored hair and his soft gray elven robe one last time, and walked out the door.
* * * * * *
Legolas was so nervous about the council that even his sharp ears did not pick up a pair of thudded footsteps echoing on the shiny marble floor in front of him. He walked straight into the man.
"Oh, I'm sorry," Legolas looked up. Staring into his eyes was a pair of the most intense gray eyes he had ever see. It took his breath away. Looking at the man's other features, he saw long, dark wavy hair, scars upon a weathered face, and still those silver-like eyes staring into his very soul. This was obviously a man of power, and dark beauty. Looking at the stranger's garb, Legolas saw dark boots, brown breeches and shirt, and a black vest. Sheathed at his side, he noticed a long, thin sword. Then, Legolas decided that this was one of the Dunedain, one of the Rangers of the North.
"It's quite alright." The stranger said.
* * * * * *
Aragorn son of Arathorn found himself gazing into a pair of cloudy blue eyes when he accidentally bumped into him.
"It's quite alright," Aragorn said.
He found himself looking at the newcomer. He had long, silky pale blond hair, which Aragorn found himself strangely wanting to touch, smooth fair skin, and finely arched brows. This was the most achingly beautiful creature the heir of Isildur had ever laid eyes on. Then Aragorn noticed the pointy ears, and velvet gray robe that he was wearing, and realized he was an elf. The only sign of weapons on him were a longbow and quiver strapped to his back, and a pair of ivory handled daggers at his waist.
"Are you going to the council too?" Aragorn inquired politely.
"Yes, I am." He replied.
"Well, I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn, also known as Strider. Some join me, elf-friend, and let us walk to the council together."
"I am Legolas son of King Thranduil of Mirkwood forest." He said as both of them started walking again. Legolas walked gracefully, nimbly as a fine cat, and Aragorn walked in long strides. "What brings you to Rivendell, my lord Ranger?"
Aragorn was not surprised that Legolas had guessed his occupation. He had a feeling that this certain elf noticed anything and everything about a person.
"I was asked to attend this meeting by Gandalf the Grey. He had informed me that I should meet four halflings in the village of Bree, and to take then swiftly here. One of the hobbits, as they like to call themselves will be attending the council. "
"Ah, I see." said Legolas wisely.
After a quick walk to the courtyard, Legolas and Aragorn entered the council.
Chapter 1: A Walk to Remember
Legolas Greenleaf, son of King Thranduil of Mirkwood forest, was gazing silently out of the window of the Lord of Rivendell's palace. With his keen elven eyes, he could see little children playing in the lush, green valley of Rivendell. Ahh, how carefree and joyous it would be to be young again, Legolas thought to himself. As an elf prince, he was thought of as young, but right now, he was feeling all of his 2,834 years. Legolas was pondering the Lord of Mordor's rise against Middle-Earth. The Council of Elrond was due to start any moment, and that was the issue that they were about to discuss that day. He admitted to himself, to be sitting among all the high ranked peoples of Middle-earth, oh what an honor! Legolas suddenly hears a sharp rap at the door.
"My lord," a servant's muffled voice said from outside the thick wooden door, "The Council of Elrond will soon begin."
"Where has all the time gone?" Legolas muttered to himself as he crossed the room.
He straightened his silky moonlight colored hair and his soft gray elven robe one last time, and walked out the door.
* * * * * *
Legolas was so nervous about the council that even his sharp ears did not pick up a pair of thudded footsteps echoing on the shiny marble floor in front of him. He walked straight into the man.
"Oh, I'm sorry," Legolas looked up. Staring into his eyes was a pair of the most intense gray eyes he had ever see. It took his breath away. Looking at the man's other features, he saw long, dark wavy hair, scars upon a weathered face, and still those silver-like eyes staring into his very soul. This was obviously a man of power, and dark beauty. Looking at the stranger's garb, Legolas saw dark boots, brown breeches and shirt, and a black vest. Sheathed at his side, he noticed a long, thin sword. Then, Legolas decided that this was one of the Dunedain, one of the Rangers of the North.
"It's quite alright." The stranger said.
* * * * * *
Aragorn son of Arathorn found himself gazing into a pair of cloudy blue eyes when he accidentally bumped into him.
"It's quite alright," Aragorn said.
He found himself looking at the newcomer. He had long, silky pale blond hair, which Aragorn found himself strangely wanting to touch, smooth fair skin, and finely arched brows. This was the most achingly beautiful creature the heir of Isildur had ever laid eyes on. Then Aragorn noticed the pointy ears, and velvet gray robe that he was wearing, and realized he was an elf. The only sign of weapons on him were a longbow and quiver strapped to his back, and a pair of ivory handled daggers at his waist.
"Are you going to the council too?" Aragorn inquired politely.
"Yes, I am." He replied.
"Well, I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn, also known as Strider. Some join me, elf-friend, and let us walk to the council together."
"I am Legolas son of King Thranduil of Mirkwood forest." He said as both of them started walking again. Legolas walked gracefully, nimbly as a fine cat, and Aragorn walked in long strides. "What brings you to Rivendell, my lord Ranger?"
Aragorn was not surprised that Legolas had guessed his occupation. He had a feeling that this certain elf noticed anything and everything about a person.
"I was asked to attend this meeting by Gandalf the Grey. He had informed me that I should meet four halflings in the village of Bree, and to take then swiftly here. One of the hobbits, as they like to call themselves will be attending the council. "
"Ah, I see." said Legolas wisely.
After a quick walk to the courtyard, Legolas and Aragorn entered the council.