There was something that he just didn't like about those other Elves. They were…different. He couldn't explain it, but he just knew that he didn't like them, almost immediately. He felt that they would destroy his kind, that they would be a different type of Elf that could possibly turn Mirkwood into ruins. He couldn't let that happen.
And yet, here they were, asking for help, pleading for the help of the Mirkwood Elves. Of course, he didn't want to look back, but his immediate hatred for them burned in his eyes as he gazed down on them as they begged for help.
Their kingdom, apparently called Jusaver, the home of the Elves of Fire, was in great peril, with thousands of kingdoms having turned their backs on the tiny kingdom, too busy with their own battles to help the struggling kingdom back to its full potential. Few of the kingdoms had agreed to send help, and now here they were, on their knees, trying to ask for help against the ever darkening shadow that stretched across their land. After all, they couldn't fight it on their own, they had lost too many already.
His son, the prince of Mirkwood, sat beside him on his own tiny throne, and he looked like he was extremely bored. Legolas was only a little over 2000 years, and he just didn't enjoy watching his father handle situations, not using an ounce of patience. He could tell that his father already hated these poor Elves, who were desperately seeking for help. There before them sat three of the Elves from Jusaver, a place that he had never heard of. But just by looking at them, he could see a small fire in their eyes, and they all looked like they could beat up Orcs any time, any day.
But his father didn't relent his stare from them. Nor did he give them any heed, because he honestly didn't care about their problems. He, like them, did have problems with the shadow himself, and couldn't risk sending any of his people to this kingdom of Jusaver. Finally, in the middle of the second one's sentence, he interrupted, "I have heard enough, thank you. When you came here, did you notice the poor state of my kingdom already? The emptiness in my people's eyes? We are in this war against the shadow, too, you know, and we cannot afford to help any other kingdoms. I am dreadfully sorry, but I must turn down your request."
Legolas just sighed. When would his father learn that life wasn't just about being able to afford to do things? The first Elf stood, followed by the second and third, and the fire in his eyes suddenly ignited into a full blown blaze that Legolas swore could've melted through iron. "You'll regret this decision, Your Majesty. We WILL be back." As they left, Legolas just managed to spot a fourth Elf leaving with them that he hadn't noticed before. She had been hiding in the shadows for a reason, not really wanting to be under the powerful Lord of Mirkwood.
She glanced back one more time to look at the prince, who she thought looked just like a prince should. She couldn't help but smile when he waved, and then his father caught his hand to keep him from waving. But since Legolas was stubborn, he pulled away, and Legolas turned back and smiled at her one last time before she went through the giant doors. Then, the doors closed behind her, she thought for the last time. But she didn't know that she would be back again, very shortly, with a new mission.
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Wood Elf luver: Ok, I know that I said I would never make any mary sues, but trust me, this isn't one, I promise. I just wanted to make the history between Wood Elves and Fire Elves clear so that A Random Story might make a little more sense to readers out there.