Hello, dearest lovelies! Anywho, this is a LOTR fanfic with Legolas/OC and I know already that this chapter doesn't have ANYTHING to do with the actual Fellowship, but it's important all the same. So, enjoy!
A young elleth wandered the paths of Mirkwood. She had always loved the silence of the forest, the great trees. Giant spiders or not, Mirkwood was her home and always had been, and so she loved it.
She sighed and leaned back against a tree. She noticed the tree sighing in contentment, such a little thing, that only a wood-Elf could observe. She was a young elleth, only 121 years in age, and so, not very wise, but she knew her way around well enough.
She had been seeking the solitude of the deep forest more so then normal after her parents had been killed in the fighting against Sauron at the beginning of the Third Age, just recently, in fact. She had no home but the great trees, anymore, and most of the older Elves who saw her walking around Thranduil's city paid her no mind.
Her unruly russet curls hung down well below her waist when let loose, and her gray eyes could be anywhere from stormy to silvery, depending on her mood. Today they were somewhere near slate, because she was not angry, nor happy. She was simply trying to keep the feelings of her parents' demise at bay, and such was the reason for her eyes turning a dull gray.
She heard a rustling in the trees above her and instinctively reached for the dagger that hung from her belt. She slowly looked up and saw nothing, but that made her all the more nervous. Could the spiders be returning?
She heard the rustling noise again and drew her dagger, pointing the end straight at the tree branches above her. Suddenly, an arrow poked out from the foliage. One of the elleth's eyebrows raised in confusion. She listened closely and heard the sound of a bow being drawn back, so she ducked, watching as the arrow flew over her head.
But she was also quick in motion. In a split second, she had thrown her dagger and heard it stick in a tree branch above. Then, she heard laughter. A blond Elf poked his head out from the tree leaves, blue eyes glittering with mirth. He held her dagger out with slender fingers and she took it, sheathing it again.
The Elf lightly jumped down from the tree, landing neatly on his toes. He was a strange Elf, she had not seen him before. He was clad all in green and brown, with a light green cloak over his back. He had long, blonde hair, laced with warrior braids, and the bluest eyes she had ever seen. He had a bow in his hand and a nearly-full quiver slung over his back. The funny thing was is that he looked no older then she was. She retrieved the arrow he had shot and offered it to him.
He took it, placing it back in his quiver. "What's your name?" he asked. "Estelyn," she replied. He contemplated the name for a moment, before replying: "Mae govannen (well met). Mine's Legolas. Legolas Greenleaf."
Estelyn gasped and immediately curtsied best she could in her gray tunic. "Why are you curtsying?" asked Legolas. "Because you are a prince, your Highness." she replied. He laughed. "There's no need to bow to me. If I could, I would choose not to be a prince at all."
She smiled. "Come," he continued. "Where do you live? I will walk you home." Estelyn sighed and stared down at her scuffed Elvish boots. "Do you have a home?" he asked softly. "I did," she replied. "But that was before my parents were killed in the fighting against Sauron's minions. I have a home no longer."
Legolas touched her on the arm. "Perhaps my father would let you live in the Great Halls with us. He's always talked about having a daughter."
Estelyn gasped. "But you are a prince! I'm just the daughter of a scribe!" Legolas turned toward her with a sly grin. "But if you are the friend of a prince, it can get you far."
Estelyn regarded the prince of Mirkwood. "It seems you are right, Legolas." He grinned and nodded. She looked up. They were nearing the Elven city by now. Estelyn could see more and more elves, dark haired and light, happy or sad. But all of them nodded and said: "Your highness," or "your majesty," or "my prince," as they walked by. Legolas turned toward her. "See what I mean, Estelyn? It gets old." She nodded and they walked inside the Great Hall.
Estelyn looked around in wonder, it had been a long time since she had been allowed to enter the Great Hall. There were huge oaken tables and benches, harvested only from trees the Elves found dead, and a huge wooden throne at one end. One it was seated Thranduil, ruler of the Wood-elves. He saw her and one of his eyebrows raised in an almost unpleasant way. Am I that much of a low-born? Estelyn thought. Legolas must have known what she was feeling, because he caught her eye and shook his head in what would have been imperceptible to anyone who wasn't looking.
They traveled the length of the Great Hall and stopped before the oaken throne. Not knowing what else to do, Estelyn kneeled. "My king," she murmured. "Rise," he commanded, and she rose, trying to keep her overall fear of Thranduil out of her posture and movements. "Gi suilon (I greet you) my son. And who is this?" Estelyn gulped. "My name is Estelyn, your highness."
Thranduil looked down on her disapprovingly. "I did not say for you to speak. Who is she, my son?" Legolas suddenly found an interest in his green Elvish boots. The king sighed. "Well then, Estelyn, who are you?"
"I am the daughter of the late town scribe Boridhren. My parents were killed in the fighting against Sauron and now I have no home but the great trees." The elven king stared down at her with cool eyes. "And why are you in my throne room, Estelyn daughter of Boridhren?"
She gulped and found no words. Luckily, Legolas stepped up then. "I have kindly suggested that she live with us, at least for a short time."
"You know we are not running a charity house, Estelyn." said Thranduil, a bit too icily. "But," he continued and Estelyn brightened up. "You seem to be a good friend of my son, and there are not many of those. You may stay. Mayril?" A tall Elf came over. "Yes, my king?" she asked in a melodious voice.
"Show Estelyn to her room. She may use the rooms across the hall from my son's. Lay out some clothes for her."
Mayril the elleth nodded and gestured for Estelyn to follow her. They went up some wood stairs and down a hallway before stopping in front of a wooden door. "This is to be your room." said Mayril. "Prince Legolas is across from you."
Estelyn nodded, and went into the room, shutting the wooden door behind her. It was large, with a lounge in one corner and a table in which was sitting some salad. There was a deck overlooking the woods.
What am I doing in the capital of Mirkwood? Estelyn thought. I sure won't stay for long…
400 Years Later…
"But Ada, you must let me go! I wish to be a Ranger, to explore the world! You know how I hate being in one place for so long!" protested Estelyn, despite Thranduil's wishes. "No, child, you must stay here. We need you here, you are like a queen in these times of need!"
"But I don't want to be a queen! I want to see the world! I've never even been outside of Mirkwood!"
The king sighed. "Estelyn…. We've had this discussion before." Estelyn sighed. "I want to see mountains, mountains. There's nothing keeping me here."
"Legolas wants you here." This made Estelyn reconsider for a moment. "You're one of his only friends." The elleth sighed. "I know." she said quietly. "But I need to go. Somehow I feel like it's my destiny. I have to go. I'm sorry."
Thranduil sighed. "You're like my daughter and you're like his sister. You're needed here." She sighed, stormcloud eyes turning a misty gray. "And that is why I must go. You have the gift of foresight, you know that I leave on the morrow and don't come back!"
King Thranduil, Ruler of the Wood-elves of Mirkwood, and the person she had come to think of as her father, looked down. "Naria is in the stables."
Without another word, Estelyn exited his study, making her way back up to her rooms in silence. It took her more then a half-hour to get there, as she didn't take any of the popular routes. She took the secluded, hidden routes as to try and avoid any elves. But, when she went into her rooms, she saw a familiar blond haired Elf standing on the terrace, staring out into the forest in silence.
He didn't seem to have noticed her, and so she studied him for a moment. He was taller, more serious, more grown-up, but yet he was still the same Elf she had met in a tree 400 years ago. His blond hair was longer, warrior braids still holding it in place, and his posture indicated anger, stress, maybe a hint of sadness. She didn't have to ask to know why.
She walked up next to him, leaning on the railing. "Hey," she said quietly. He turned toward her and his cerulean eyes were cool, yet when he spoke, his voice was filled with unconcealed anger. "Why?" he asked, irritation written on his face. She sighed. "It's not because of you."
"Then why is it?"
She looked down. "It's my destiny." He just stared at her. "How do you know that?" he asked, a bit softer. "I just know."
Anger crept into his liquid blue eyes. "YOU DON'T KNOW! MIRKWOOD IS YOUR HOME, YOU BELONG HERE!" he shouted, losing his temper at last. "No, Legolas." She murmured. "It's not. Not anymore."
Legolas just stalked out of her room in silence, and left her to pack her things. It was her destiny, she had seen it. She hated being in one place for too long, and ahs eidn't intend to return to Mirkwood, no matter how much she liked it. She had longed for adventure all her life, and no one was going to stop her, least of all a blond haired Elf. Granted, she counted him as one of her best friends and most trusted comrades, but she would not stay for him. Not when the outside world so called her.
That night, she packed in silence, lost in thought. A soft knock on her door pulled her out of her reverie, and she opened it to find no one. A small box was sitting on the floor. She opened it and found a clasp for her cloak, a green tree with a copper trunk. The symbol of the royal house of Mirkwood. There was no, note but she knew on instinct who it was from.
She glanced up across the hall, to Legolas's rooms. The door was wide open. Holding the clasp, she walked inside only to find the prince and his favorite longbow gone. She peered out the window to the training grounds, only to find them empty. A single arrow was stuck into the center of the nearest target, but there was no one there.
Sighing, she went outside and retrieved the arrow from the target. It was green-feathered and familiar. It was indeed one of her friend's arrows, yet he was nowhere to be found. Estelyn slipped the arrow into her boot, to sit in the strap alongside her secret knife.
She spent all evening searching the woods, the streams, all the places Legolas had shown her over 400 years of friendship, to find them all vacated, all empty. That pulled at her heart, but she was determined not to let it show.
And as the first light of dawn crept over the trees, a solitary rider departed Thranduil's city, chocolate curls flying behind her in the wind and gray eyes determined, but also tinged with sadness and a hint of regret. The sigil of Mirkwood was visible on her cloak. And little did she know, that perched in a tree watching her go was a blond haired Elf.
Did you like it? If so, please review! Anyway, until next time!