Italics indicate Elvish.
She shone like a star, so bright with beauty and confidence all the elves, including Legolas, could only stare and try not to gape. Her dark hair was long and her green eyes clear like a leaf in springtime. She was garbed in a flowing scarlet gown and wore a golden circlet around her fore.
"I am the Lady Eleniel." Her voice was sweet. "I thank you for taking me into your home."
No one knew her. She came dressed in rich clothes, with a noble's learned tongue, and a letter from Elrond, announcing her an elf-friend. She looked and spoke as an elf would, even had an elf's pointed ears, but she, and he, opposed this. But she certainly was no human.
"The elves would never deny a guest." Legolas' father stood. His crown signaled spring, as did the mood of the court. When spring came, Mirkwood was given a little more light.
"No matter, I thank you all the same, elvenking."
Thandruil turned to Legolas, nodding at his son. "Please, take her lady Eleniel to her rooms." At this, the room breaks out into whispers. The court had been dismissed.
He approached Eleniel, offering her his arm. She took it. Her touch was light and feathery. At the moment, she looked as delicate as her touch.
"How long with you be staying?" He asked.
"I am not sure," She responded in the Common Tongue. Even the Common Speech she spoke like a song. "Lord Elrond wished me to stay here until he sent someone for me. I know not who. Or what my purpose here is."
Legolas laughed lightly, "Elrond has plans for everything. There is a reason you came to Mirkwood."
Eleniel nodded. They stopped then, standing in front of a large, oaken door. She released his arm and he bowed slightly. "I do hope your visit in Mirkwood will be pleasant."
When he said this, something flashed momentarily across her face. For one second, she looked sad and desperate. As if she longed for something and Mirkwood was the cause. But it disappeared so quickly, Legolas concluded he must have imagined it.
"Good day, Lady Eleniel."
"And you, Prince of Mirkwood." She turned and entered. Just before she shut the door, Legolas glimpsed the room. Chests had stacked the walls.
Eleniel had come empty handed, but assured his father she needed no charity from him.
Where had her things come from?
Eleniel spent the good part of the afternoon unpacking her possessions into the oak wardrobe. Oak. Everything seemed to be made of it. Not that she minded; oak reminded her of home.
When evening began to overcome the sky, she received a knock at the door. Eleniel had expected this, and had changed into a blue dress that felt like the material used to make fashion scarves. She opened the door. Prince Legolas stood there, his attire also changed.
"Lady Eleniel," He smiled warmly, "Would you accompany me? The king invites you to dine with us tonight. Every night, that is, if you wish it."
"I would be delighted." Eleniel stepped out of her room and followed the elf down the halls.
"If you don't mind my boldness asking...what are you?"
Eleniel laughed at the absurdness, but also the necessity, of the question. "I am kin to the elves and friends of man."
Legolas smiled, "I see you have acquired the ability to speak like an elf."
"In many ways I am like the elves. I have some of their tastes. For example, like the elves in Rivendell, I will only eat growing things. Never animals."
"I am sorry to disappoint you, my lady, but because of the lack of sunlight in Mirkwood, we mostly eat animals."
"I will manage on my own." She stopped speaking. They entered a grand hall, shining with bright lights. The floor reflected the gold of the ceilings and the tables were of the same hue. Elves lined the tables, chatting merrily over the music wafting from the corner (played by excellent troubadours, in Eleniel's opinion). Prince Legolas led her to the head of the table, where Thandruil was seated. Eleniel sat across from Legolas, on the elvenking's right.
As she had told Legolas, she could make do with the food. Her people thrived on sugar. As long as there was fruits, breads, and wines, Eleniel would be satisfied. To her relief, no one commented or raised an eyebrow at her plate. They were too busy talking to her.
She had heard the whispers, even locked away in her room. Stranger, neither elf nor human, and certainly not a dwarf!, unnatural, fascinating. That's what she was to them. A fascination. In their longevity, elves seemed to latch onto their fascinations, until they became an obsession. But Eleniel was determined to prove herself to them, even if she was setting herself even farther apart.