Disclaimer: Um, since my name's not really J.R.R. Tolkien, these characters
don't belong to me...
Hugs to my sister, who (gasp!) is probably an even bigger LOTR/ Legolas fan than I am! Thanks to you, O Mistress of the Rings, for always taking an interest in my writing!
This takes place in the Third Age, year 247.
The communion of the Elves was a grand event, and all of the elf kin were sure to attend, from the natives of the Woods of Lothlorien to the natives of Rivendell. Even some of those who were not elves came to see the festivities of the day, so widely was it known. Prominent among those gathered was the Hierarchy, including the great Lady Galadriel, Lord Elrond, and Lord Thranduil.
It was a celebration of the elves for the defeat of Morgoth and Sauron and the kindness of the gods. They held revelries, gave great banquets, and prayed for good weather and plentiful harvest. There were even reenactments of the defeat of the dark lord Morgoth that were presented, as well as the defeat of Sauron.
It was during this communion that Arwen and Legolas first met.
The banquet for the Hierarchy was just about to be given. It was held in a great hall in Rivendell, decorated for the occasion.
Arwen, then only five years old, the tiniest of infants among the elves, was hiding her face in her mother's sleeve, not being used to so many people around.
Celebrian bent and stroked her daughter's hair. "Arwen, my love. It is all right. Have a look around; none of these people will hurt you. I promise!"
Arwen peeked coyly from behind her mother's sleeve. "But there's so *many,* mother!" she cried.
Celebrian sighed and looked up. Her husband, Elrond was coming over, accompanied by Thranduil and a little elven-boy with blond hair.
"Love, you remember Thranduil?" said Elrond warmly, grinning broadly.
"Of course I do," she smiled, embracing Thranduil. "It has been a long time, brother."
"Indeed it has," said Thranduil.
"I'm so sorry to hear of your wife," she said solemnly.
"It is alright. She is in a better place now."
Just that year, Thranduil's wife had been deep in grief. No one knew the reason why. Even the love from her husband and son had been unable to save her, and she passed away.
"Hey there, little one," said Celebrian gently, reaching out to caress the boy's face who was hiding behind Thranduil in much the same manner as Arwen was hiding behind her. The festival was always overwhelming for children at first.
The boy blinked up at her with the most breath-taking green eyes that she had ever seen. He couldn't have been older than her Arwen was.
"Hello, mi'lady," he said, so softly that she could barely hear him. He stepped away from Thranduil and bowed quickly and then pressed his face shyly against his father's leg again. "You are very pretty," he said, voice partially muffled from the fabric of Thranduil's trousers.
She grinned. "Why, thank you," she said, flicking a strand of golden hair away from her face. "What is his name?" she asked Thranduil. This was Arwen and the boy's first time at the festival, so she did not know him yet.
"Legolas."
"Ah. A fitting name."
"Yes, isn't it?" smiled Thranduil. "And who might this lovely one be?"
"Introduce yourself," she told Arwen. But Arwen merely stuck her tongue out at her. She was at the age where all children thought it was funny to defy their parents.
This sent Legolas into fits of laughter, and then Arwen started laughing, too.
"Arwen!" scolded Elrond.
"Ah, so Arwen is this little troublemaker's name," laughed Thranduil.
"I'm sorry," apologized Celebrian, "she usually doesn't behave this way…."
"That's quite alright. She's just a child. Shall we take a seat?"
"Yes, it is time for the feast to begin," said Elrond, waving toward the huge table.
As the adults went ahead, Legolas escaped to run over to Arwen.
"You're bad!" he laughed.
"Thank you," giggled Arwen. She stuck out her hand. "My name is Arwen," she said.
"Mine's Legolas." He smiled sweetly at her and took her hand in his.
Arwen smiled back at him. "Let's be friends. These adults are boring, anyway."
And the two children found a seat next to each other, and did not let go of each other's hands the entire banquet.
*****************
Arwen leapt through the underbrush of the field and ran as fast as she could toward the river, giggling and waving ribbons behind her. Currently she was playing a game of "can't catch me" with her newfound friend, Legolas.
She was glad to have met him. He made the festival, full of grown-ups and strangers, a lot more fun. Now she was no longer shy, but exactly the opposite. She and Legolas had spent the week tumbling over dignitaries (even the King of Arnor, Valandil, had become a victim of their play- but he merely smiled and helped them back to their feet) and weaving through obstacles such as tables and chairs- and legs.
"Gotcha!" cried Legolas, jumping and grabbing her around her middle in much the manner of a cat. Arwen fell, and the two rolled down the hill together, giggling in the moonlight.
Celebrian made her way up the hill to where the children were playing, her mother Galadriel beside her.
As soon as she saw what a mess they were, she groaned. "I wish they would not roll in the grass like that," she sighed.
"They are children- let them have their fun," said her mother serenely, glowing softly in the night.
"Yes, yes, I know."
Celebrian stood and watched the children play for a while longer, not having the heart to separate them. Tonight was the last night of the communion, and little Legolas was to depart soon with his father.
"This is a legendary friendship that is being formed. I have seen it," said Galadriel.
Celebrian turned toward her. "Is it really? In what way?"
But her mother merely smiled and shook her head. "What will come into being will come into being, my child. You will see when it happens."
Celebrian frowned and turned away. "Arwen! Legolas!" she called.
"Coming, mother," giggled Arwen, standing up and brushing grass off of her gown. Legolas grabbed her hand and the two ran up to meet Celebrian.
"It is time for the closing ceremonies," said Galadriel.
The two children looked mournfully at each other.
"Then I have to leave," moaned Legolas.
"No! I don't want you to. Mother, can't we keep him?" begged Arwen.
Celebrian smiled. "No, love, we cannot. But come. You'll be missing the fireworks!"
At the mention of fireworks, both children brightened a bit and forgot their troubles for the time being. The four made their way back to the party and took a seat by Elrond, Thranduil, and Celeborn on a rooftop to watch the fireworks. They were the best part of the celebration- the part that everyone came to see, given by the great Mithrandir himself.
Arwen led Legolas over to the very edge of the rooftop and the two sat down next to each other, legs dangling over the side. Arwen leaned over and whispered in Legolas's ear. "This is the very best place to see them," she said.
"You've watched them before?" he asked, in awe.
She nodded. "I sneaked out of bed once before, and mother let me stay."
He frowned. "Lucky!"
Their conversation was cut short as the first firework lit the air, a great burst of green luminescence, highlighting everything about them emerald. Then a blue one followed, then a red one, until the whole sky was a dazzlement of shapes and colors, awing the entire audience into silence.
After about a half-hour of the entertainment, the entire sky went dark, very shortly and suddenly. All about them people began to stir, whistling and cheering, making their way down from their perches.
And then, the last firework went off. It was a pure, blinding, brilliant white light, in the shape of a star- the very likeness of Elendil itself, multiplied to hundreds of times its size. A great gasp resounded from the audience, along with a couple "ooo's" and "ahh's."
Arwen turned to Legolas, face illuminated by the light of the explosion, and pointed at the sky.
"Look," said she, "a star shines upon our meeting, my friend!"
He smiled, his hair an almost blinding white in the brightness. "It does," he said. Then he reached into his tunic and pulled out a single, lovely golden chain that hung about his neck. "Here," he said slipping the chain over her head "this was my mother's. She gave it to me, before she went away."
Arwen gasped, fingering the thread of gold. "No, Legolas, I can't take this!" she cried.
"But, I want you to have it!" he said. "So that you'll remember me, when I have to go. That's why my mother gave it to me. She said: 'Keep it and I will always be with you.' So, if you keep it, then I'll always be with you, even if we don't see each other for a long, long time."
Arwen stared at him for a moment, and then threw her small arms about his neck.
"Thank you. I won't forget you, I promise. You'll be my very best friend, forever, Legolas!"
"Best friends forever," he said, voice muffled in her hair.
And then he was gone, on the back of his father's horse, to a place very, very far away.
But as Arwen held the chain close to her heart, he didn't seem that very far away at all.
A/N: Rather a lot of fluffy-cuteness wasn't it? Hope I didn't give anyone out there sugar overdose! It'll probably get darker along the way, don't expect the rating to stay the same. It'll also get longer…
Anyway, this is my very first LOTR fanfic, believe it or not, so reviews would be much appreciated. (Remember, the little purple box to the left corner of your screen is your friend!)
Synopsis as of the moment: One thing I am sure of, this story will follow the lives of Arwen and Legolas throughout the beginning of the third age, when Sauron starts to come back into power. It will probably be a series of vignettes until we get to the time period that most of the plot takes place in. However, one thing I am not sure of is if this will turn into an Arwen/Legolas romance or not. (I love Aragorn, too, so I don't know.) It depends on what direction my muse takes me! Cheers!
Hugs to my sister, who (gasp!) is probably an even bigger LOTR/ Legolas fan than I am! Thanks to you, O Mistress of the Rings, for always taking an interest in my writing!
This takes place in the Third Age, year 247.
The communion of the Elves was a grand event, and all of the elf kin were sure to attend, from the natives of the Woods of Lothlorien to the natives of Rivendell. Even some of those who were not elves came to see the festivities of the day, so widely was it known. Prominent among those gathered was the Hierarchy, including the great Lady Galadriel, Lord Elrond, and Lord Thranduil.
It was a celebration of the elves for the defeat of Morgoth and Sauron and the kindness of the gods. They held revelries, gave great banquets, and prayed for good weather and plentiful harvest. There were even reenactments of the defeat of the dark lord Morgoth that were presented, as well as the defeat of Sauron.
It was during this communion that Arwen and Legolas first met.
The banquet for the Hierarchy was just about to be given. It was held in a great hall in Rivendell, decorated for the occasion.
Arwen, then only five years old, the tiniest of infants among the elves, was hiding her face in her mother's sleeve, not being used to so many people around.
Celebrian bent and stroked her daughter's hair. "Arwen, my love. It is all right. Have a look around; none of these people will hurt you. I promise!"
Arwen peeked coyly from behind her mother's sleeve. "But there's so *many,* mother!" she cried.
Celebrian sighed and looked up. Her husband, Elrond was coming over, accompanied by Thranduil and a little elven-boy with blond hair.
"Love, you remember Thranduil?" said Elrond warmly, grinning broadly.
"Of course I do," she smiled, embracing Thranduil. "It has been a long time, brother."
"Indeed it has," said Thranduil.
"I'm so sorry to hear of your wife," she said solemnly.
"It is alright. She is in a better place now."
Just that year, Thranduil's wife had been deep in grief. No one knew the reason why. Even the love from her husband and son had been unable to save her, and she passed away.
"Hey there, little one," said Celebrian gently, reaching out to caress the boy's face who was hiding behind Thranduil in much the same manner as Arwen was hiding behind her. The festival was always overwhelming for children at first.
The boy blinked up at her with the most breath-taking green eyes that she had ever seen. He couldn't have been older than her Arwen was.
"Hello, mi'lady," he said, so softly that she could barely hear him. He stepped away from Thranduil and bowed quickly and then pressed his face shyly against his father's leg again. "You are very pretty," he said, voice partially muffled from the fabric of Thranduil's trousers.
She grinned. "Why, thank you," she said, flicking a strand of golden hair away from her face. "What is his name?" she asked Thranduil. This was Arwen and the boy's first time at the festival, so she did not know him yet.
"Legolas."
"Ah. A fitting name."
"Yes, isn't it?" smiled Thranduil. "And who might this lovely one be?"
"Introduce yourself," she told Arwen. But Arwen merely stuck her tongue out at her. She was at the age where all children thought it was funny to defy their parents.
This sent Legolas into fits of laughter, and then Arwen started laughing, too.
"Arwen!" scolded Elrond.
"Ah, so Arwen is this little troublemaker's name," laughed Thranduil.
"I'm sorry," apologized Celebrian, "she usually doesn't behave this way…."
"That's quite alright. She's just a child. Shall we take a seat?"
"Yes, it is time for the feast to begin," said Elrond, waving toward the huge table.
As the adults went ahead, Legolas escaped to run over to Arwen.
"You're bad!" he laughed.
"Thank you," giggled Arwen. She stuck out her hand. "My name is Arwen," she said.
"Mine's Legolas." He smiled sweetly at her and took her hand in his.
Arwen smiled back at him. "Let's be friends. These adults are boring, anyway."
And the two children found a seat next to each other, and did not let go of each other's hands the entire banquet.
*****************
Arwen leapt through the underbrush of the field and ran as fast as she could toward the river, giggling and waving ribbons behind her. Currently she was playing a game of "can't catch me" with her newfound friend, Legolas.
She was glad to have met him. He made the festival, full of grown-ups and strangers, a lot more fun. Now she was no longer shy, but exactly the opposite. She and Legolas had spent the week tumbling over dignitaries (even the King of Arnor, Valandil, had become a victim of their play- but he merely smiled and helped them back to their feet) and weaving through obstacles such as tables and chairs- and legs.
"Gotcha!" cried Legolas, jumping and grabbing her around her middle in much the manner of a cat. Arwen fell, and the two rolled down the hill together, giggling in the moonlight.
Celebrian made her way up the hill to where the children were playing, her mother Galadriel beside her.
As soon as she saw what a mess they were, she groaned. "I wish they would not roll in the grass like that," she sighed.
"They are children- let them have their fun," said her mother serenely, glowing softly in the night.
"Yes, yes, I know."
Celebrian stood and watched the children play for a while longer, not having the heart to separate them. Tonight was the last night of the communion, and little Legolas was to depart soon with his father.
"This is a legendary friendship that is being formed. I have seen it," said Galadriel.
Celebrian turned toward her. "Is it really? In what way?"
But her mother merely smiled and shook her head. "What will come into being will come into being, my child. You will see when it happens."
Celebrian frowned and turned away. "Arwen! Legolas!" she called.
"Coming, mother," giggled Arwen, standing up and brushing grass off of her gown. Legolas grabbed her hand and the two ran up to meet Celebrian.
"It is time for the closing ceremonies," said Galadriel.
The two children looked mournfully at each other.
"Then I have to leave," moaned Legolas.
"No! I don't want you to. Mother, can't we keep him?" begged Arwen.
Celebrian smiled. "No, love, we cannot. But come. You'll be missing the fireworks!"
At the mention of fireworks, both children brightened a bit and forgot their troubles for the time being. The four made their way back to the party and took a seat by Elrond, Thranduil, and Celeborn on a rooftop to watch the fireworks. They were the best part of the celebration- the part that everyone came to see, given by the great Mithrandir himself.
Arwen led Legolas over to the very edge of the rooftop and the two sat down next to each other, legs dangling over the side. Arwen leaned over and whispered in Legolas's ear. "This is the very best place to see them," she said.
"You've watched them before?" he asked, in awe.
She nodded. "I sneaked out of bed once before, and mother let me stay."
He frowned. "Lucky!"
Their conversation was cut short as the first firework lit the air, a great burst of green luminescence, highlighting everything about them emerald. Then a blue one followed, then a red one, until the whole sky was a dazzlement of shapes and colors, awing the entire audience into silence.
After about a half-hour of the entertainment, the entire sky went dark, very shortly and suddenly. All about them people began to stir, whistling and cheering, making their way down from their perches.
And then, the last firework went off. It was a pure, blinding, brilliant white light, in the shape of a star- the very likeness of Elendil itself, multiplied to hundreds of times its size. A great gasp resounded from the audience, along with a couple "ooo's" and "ahh's."
Arwen turned to Legolas, face illuminated by the light of the explosion, and pointed at the sky.
"Look," said she, "a star shines upon our meeting, my friend!"
He smiled, his hair an almost blinding white in the brightness. "It does," he said. Then he reached into his tunic and pulled out a single, lovely golden chain that hung about his neck. "Here," he said slipping the chain over her head "this was my mother's. She gave it to me, before she went away."
Arwen gasped, fingering the thread of gold. "No, Legolas, I can't take this!" she cried.
"But, I want you to have it!" he said. "So that you'll remember me, when I have to go. That's why my mother gave it to me. She said: 'Keep it and I will always be with you.' So, if you keep it, then I'll always be with you, even if we don't see each other for a long, long time."
Arwen stared at him for a moment, and then threw her small arms about his neck.
"Thank you. I won't forget you, I promise. You'll be my very best friend, forever, Legolas!"
"Best friends forever," he said, voice muffled in her hair.
And then he was gone, on the back of his father's horse, to a place very, very far away.
But as Arwen held the chain close to her heart, he didn't seem that very far away at all.
A/N: Rather a lot of fluffy-cuteness wasn't it? Hope I didn't give anyone out there sugar overdose! It'll probably get darker along the way, don't expect the rating to stay the same. It'll also get longer…
Anyway, this is my very first LOTR fanfic, believe it or not, so reviews would be much appreciated. (Remember, the little purple box to the left corner of your screen is your friend!)
Synopsis as of the moment: One thing I am sure of, this story will follow the lives of Arwen and Legolas throughout the beginning of the third age, when Sauron starts to come back into power. It will probably be a series of vignettes until we get to the time period that most of the plot takes place in. However, one thing I am not sure of is if this will turn into an Arwen/Legolas romance or not. (I love Aragorn, too, so I don't know.) It depends on what direction my muse takes me! Cheers!
