Here's my little fanfic that is robbing me of all will to do any work,
because I am so engrossed in it. Some of it, I know will be totally
inaccurate, not to mention the fact I have no idea how long Legolas has
existed, so quite a lot of the first few chapters will be me trying to fill
in time up until the War of the Ring, and therefore I know people will find
loads to say about the incorrectness. Once again, I make a plea for
leniency!
Just that little note that seems to be required to say that Legolas, Mirkwood, the rest of the Fellowship etc don't belong to me, I know Tolkien would be turning in his grave at the thought of this fanfic, but here goes anyway!!
* * * *
Mirkwood lay wreathed in verdant majesty beneath the warm summer sun. Its vast leagues stretched as far as the eye could see, fading into a hazy green that merged into the blue of the sky. The day seemed perfect to all who lived in the great forest.
Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood was strolling through the wood, is mind completely at ease. With him was his beloved friend, Lóriel, an old childhood companion. She had long black hair, which captured the light of the blue sky and deep brown eyes, unusual for an elf. She was listening intently to her friend's tales of the great forest of Fangorn, and his travels there with Gimli the dwarf.
'I would like to have met Gimli,' she remarked after having drawn from him a description of the loyal dwarf. 'When are you going to invite him here so we can all meet such a legendary warrior?'
Legolas sighed. 'Alas, other elves think differently to you. Their reaction when I told them he had been named elf friend… It was an insult to Gimli's valour and loyalty.'
Lóriel waved her hand impatiently. 'Ridiculous. How can they judge him just because he is a dwarf? They know nothing of his character, and in their stubbornness refuse to look past the prejudices between elves and dwarves that began…many thousands of years ago.'
Legolas nodded sadly. 'At the beginning of the journey, I was like that. I refused to look past the elven stereotype of dwarves. But during our stay in Lothlórien, Gimli who up to then had fostered as intense a dislike of me as I had of him, began to see things as we elves see them. The power of Galadriel affected him, and he realised that elves were not the cold hearted beings he believed. He asked me if he might not accompany me on the explorations I made around the Golden Wood. Surprised, I agreed before I thought what I had done. Gimli was just as curious as I was about the life of the elves in Lórien, and this changed my heart towards him. If a dwarf could open his heart to embrace elven life, then an elf could do the same.'
'And you saw that he was a friend, no matter how much you seemed to be completely the opposite,' Lóriel laughed.
'Indeed I did. You can find friendship in the most unexpected people, Lóriel. Look at the Fellowship of the Ring. Four hobbits, two men, a wizard, a dwarf and an elf are not the most likely travelling companions, yet we all became fast friends.'
'And what about your friends in Mirkwood?' Lóriel queried playfully.
'Friends in Mirkwood…hmm…who could they be, I wonder?' His eyes gleamed with merry laughter as he fended off Lóriel's blows.
'Forgetting me, how could you!' she cried. Legolas pinned her hands, then looping his arm around her shoulders, he drew her along the path.
'Wait, I seem to remember one, young Elf maid, dark hair and eyes, name of Lo…Lothíriel was it?' Seeing Lóriel's arms rising for another blow he added 'No? Oh, yes! I've got it! Lóriel! How could I forget such a dear friend!'
Their clear laughter rippling on the breeze, the two elves wandered on into the wood, their hearts absorbing the peace of the green leaves around them.
Just that little note that seems to be required to say that Legolas, Mirkwood, the rest of the Fellowship etc don't belong to me, I know Tolkien would be turning in his grave at the thought of this fanfic, but here goes anyway!!
* * * *
Mirkwood lay wreathed in verdant majesty beneath the warm summer sun. Its vast leagues stretched as far as the eye could see, fading into a hazy green that merged into the blue of the sky. The day seemed perfect to all who lived in the great forest.
Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood was strolling through the wood, is mind completely at ease. With him was his beloved friend, Lóriel, an old childhood companion. She had long black hair, which captured the light of the blue sky and deep brown eyes, unusual for an elf. She was listening intently to her friend's tales of the great forest of Fangorn, and his travels there with Gimli the dwarf.
'I would like to have met Gimli,' she remarked after having drawn from him a description of the loyal dwarf. 'When are you going to invite him here so we can all meet such a legendary warrior?'
Legolas sighed. 'Alas, other elves think differently to you. Their reaction when I told them he had been named elf friend… It was an insult to Gimli's valour and loyalty.'
Lóriel waved her hand impatiently. 'Ridiculous. How can they judge him just because he is a dwarf? They know nothing of his character, and in their stubbornness refuse to look past the prejudices between elves and dwarves that began…many thousands of years ago.'
Legolas nodded sadly. 'At the beginning of the journey, I was like that. I refused to look past the elven stereotype of dwarves. But during our stay in Lothlórien, Gimli who up to then had fostered as intense a dislike of me as I had of him, began to see things as we elves see them. The power of Galadriel affected him, and he realised that elves were not the cold hearted beings he believed. He asked me if he might not accompany me on the explorations I made around the Golden Wood. Surprised, I agreed before I thought what I had done. Gimli was just as curious as I was about the life of the elves in Lórien, and this changed my heart towards him. If a dwarf could open his heart to embrace elven life, then an elf could do the same.'
'And you saw that he was a friend, no matter how much you seemed to be completely the opposite,' Lóriel laughed.
'Indeed I did. You can find friendship in the most unexpected people, Lóriel. Look at the Fellowship of the Ring. Four hobbits, two men, a wizard, a dwarf and an elf are not the most likely travelling companions, yet we all became fast friends.'
'And what about your friends in Mirkwood?' Lóriel queried playfully.
'Friends in Mirkwood…hmm…who could they be, I wonder?' His eyes gleamed with merry laughter as he fended off Lóriel's blows.
'Forgetting me, how could you!' she cried. Legolas pinned her hands, then looping his arm around her shoulders, he drew her along the path.
'Wait, I seem to remember one, young Elf maid, dark hair and eyes, name of Lo…Lothíriel was it?' Seeing Lóriel's arms rising for another blow he added 'No? Oh, yes! I've got it! Lóriel! How could I forget such a dear friend!'
Their clear laughter rippling on the breeze, the two elves wandered on into the wood, their hearts absorbing the peace of the green leaves around them.