The Elf and the Human
By Demeter
Note: This story contains J. R. R. Tolkien characters... all of the other characters are mine. R/R and enjoy!
It was a cold, dreary day. The forests of Mirkwood seemed to be wailing cries of despair. The house of King Thranduil was bustling with activity for Glweoyn, the wife of the king, had been laboring for many hours.
"Mi' lady has a fever!" one of the midwives panicked.
Thranduil, who was in much fear, summoned the messenger to send word to Lord Elrond about what was to be done. The messenger mounted a horse and rode into the dark forest to reach Rivendell.
The cries of pain from Glweoyn only grew as the day progressed. Sweat and tears dripped on her fair face. Only time could tell what was to become of her.
Thranduil could no longer take it. He paced around the halls like a ward contemplating the fate of its prey. Soon he heard the laughter from Glweoyn's chamber. He quickly ran into the room and saw that the baby had been born, a baby boy. Thranduil's face lit up brighter than it had been in years, he had forgotten for a moment that his wife was deathly ill.
"What shall we name him, sayaroelna?" Thranduil spoke with much anticipation.
"I think..." she spoke while cradling the baby in her arms, "Legolas."
"Krail'byen! Legolas is a very fitting name." Thranduil said while picking up the baby and watching his beautiful blue eyes. "He has eyes much like yours, sayaroelna."
"Yes. He is so precious." She said with much exhaustion. "He will be a great warrior someday." Her eyelids were slowly growing heavy with sleep.
"Yamal, Glweoyn." He said as he took the baby, Legolas, and watched her fall into a deep sleep.
A few hours later, Elrond and the messenger, sent out by Thranduil himself, arrived on horses.
"Where is she?" Elrond said with much haste.
"She is in her chamber, asleep." Thranduil said rushing next to Elrond's side.
"Thranduil..." he whispered. He tried to wake her up, but she did not stir. Elrond flashed a look towards Thranduil that alarmed his heart, "she is not responding to my voice or my touch. I fear that she has passed over, that we were not swift enough to reach her."
Thranduil felt a sudden pain fill his chest, a pain that not even the Elvish medicine of Elrond could suppress. He had lost his Glweoyn, his sayaroelna to the shadow of death.
Ever since that day, Thranduil had become a ruthless monarch, and most of all a withdrawn father. His children had experienced much of his lack of guidance first-hand.
Legolas found much comfort from his nanny, Wilomena. She would brush through his soft, blonde locks of hair every time he got tangled in the bushes, relieve his scrapes every time he fell or was attacked my Tharamor or Elran, his older brothers. His older brothers did not appreciate his cuteness as much as the rest of the kingdom did.
Sometimes Wilomena wanted to just confront the King and show him how much Legolas really needed him, not as a king as a father.
"Mena, why doesn't Daddy love me? Why don't my brothers ever want to play with me?" He said with tears of confusion dripping down his small cheeks.
"Oh Legolas... your father loves you very much, he has just... so many important things to do, he is king, you know." Inside she felt pain while saying this because she saw the look of sadness in the child's eyes.
Wilomena tried exceptionally hard to get Tharamor and Elran to pay attention to their brother, without hurting him.
Tharamor was about 12 years older than Legolas, he thought him to be the royal nuisance, the child who didn't belong. Elran was about 9 years older and felt that Legolas was too young and naive, and was only fun when he was the victim of their adventures.
"Legolas, why don't you go to Mordor and fight the orcs. Seeing your a "warrior" and all." Elran snickered.
"What is an orc?" Legolas said as his eyes lit up.
"Well..." answered Tharamor, "they are short, unintelligible, clumsy, have long blonde hair, and they are unloved... not too much different then yourself." Elran tried to muffle his laughter.
"Here have this bow... I bet someday you'll be able to shoot them all in one foul swoop!" Elran said sarcastically.
Legolas picked up the bow carefully and glanced at it for a while. What if he could save Mirkwood from the "orcs", what if he could become a warrior and win the love of his father? So he ran off silently towards the forests and ran as far as his little legs could carry him.
"Where did that sharé go! Father will have our heads!" Elran panicked.
"That's if he even notices..." Tharamor conspired.
Legolas ran beyond Mirkwood into a land that he had never heard of before. "Oooh" he cooed when he saw the herd of horses in the pastures. He had never seen so many of them. He kept the bow and arrow in his hands and made sure that he took good care of them.
There were footsteps in the bushes behind him. He got scared and held the bow and arrow up to the rustle.
"That's not how you hold a bow." a small voice giggled.
"Who are you?" He whispered holding the bow behind him.
"Lelah." She whispered back. Quickly she rolled out from under the bushes.
"You're dirty, you have messy hair, and you're a girl." Legolas said in a fearful voice.
"Well, you're not dirty, you're hair is white, and you have odd ears!" Lelah retorted. "Are you an elf?"
"Yes. What are you?"
"I am a human."
Legolas shrugged his shoulders. He never had heard of a human before. He blurted out, "Well, I don't want to live in Mirkwood anymore, my father doesn't want to be my daddy, he only wants to be king!"
"Your dad is the king?!"
"Yes, and my brothers don't like me."
"Well, my sisters always want me out of the house." Lelah said, "it isn't all that bad, they are boring!"
"Come to Mirkwood with me, Lelah." Legolas begged as he took her hand.
"I have never seen elves before. Okay!" She squealed.
Off they trotted towards Mirkwood, but little did they know what or who they would find there...
To be continued...
By Demeter
Note: This story contains J. R. R. Tolkien characters... all of the other characters are mine. R/R and enjoy!
It was a cold, dreary day. The forests of Mirkwood seemed to be wailing cries of despair. The house of King Thranduil was bustling with activity for Glweoyn, the wife of the king, had been laboring for many hours.
"Mi' lady has a fever!" one of the midwives panicked.
Thranduil, who was in much fear, summoned the messenger to send word to Lord Elrond about what was to be done. The messenger mounted a horse and rode into the dark forest to reach Rivendell.
The cries of pain from Glweoyn only grew as the day progressed. Sweat and tears dripped on her fair face. Only time could tell what was to become of her.
Thranduil could no longer take it. He paced around the halls like a ward contemplating the fate of its prey. Soon he heard the laughter from Glweoyn's chamber. He quickly ran into the room and saw that the baby had been born, a baby boy. Thranduil's face lit up brighter than it had been in years, he had forgotten for a moment that his wife was deathly ill.
"What shall we name him, sayaroelna?" Thranduil spoke with much anticipation.
"I think..." she spoke while cradling the baby in her arms, "Legolas."
"Krail'byen! Legolas is a very fitting name." Thranduil said while picking up the baby and watching his beautiful blue eyes. "He has eyes much like yours, sayaroelna."
"Yes. He is so precious." She said with much exhaustion. "He will be a great warrior someday." Her eyelids were slowly growing heavy with sleep.
"Yamal, Glweoyn." He said as he took the baby, Legolas, and watched her fall into a deep sleep.
A few hours later, Elrond and the messenger, sent out by Thranduil himself, arrived on horses.
"Where is she?" Elrond said with much haste.
"She is in her chamber, asleep." Thranduil said rushing next to Elrond's side.
"Thranduil..." he whispered. He tried to wake her up, but she did not stir. Elrond flashed a look towards Thranduil that alarmed his heart, "she is not responding to my voice or my touch. I fear that she has passed over, that we were not swift enough to reach her."
Thranduil felt a sudden pain fill his chest, a pain that not even the Elvish medicine of Elrond could suppress. He had lost his Glweoyn, his sayaroelna to the shadow of death.
Ever since that day, Thranduil had become a ruthless monarch, and most of all a withdrawn father. His children had experienced much of his lack of guidance first-hand.
Legolas found much comfort from his nanny, Wilomena. She would brush through his soft, blonde locks of hair every time he got tangled in the bushes, relieve his scrapes every time he fell or was attacked my Tharamor or Elran, his older brothers. His older brothers did not appreciate his cuteness as much as the rest of the kingdom did.
Sometimes Wilomena wanted to just confront the King and show him how much Legolas really needed him, not as a king as a father.
"Mena, why doesn't Daddy love me? Why don't my brothers ever want to play with me?" He said with tears of confusion dripping down his small cheeks.
"Oh Legolas... your father loves you very much, he has just... so many important things to do, he is king, you know." Inside she felt pain while saying this because she saw the look of sadness in the child's eyes.
Wilomena tried exceptionally hard to get Tharamor and Elran to pay attention to their brother, without hurting him.
Tharamor was about 12 years older than Legolas, he thought him to be the royal nuisance, the child who didn't belong. Elran was about 9 years older and felt that Legolas was too young and naive, and was only fun when he was the victim of their adventures.
"Legolas, why don't you go to Mordor and fight the orcs. Seeing your a "warrior" and all." Elran snickered.
"What is an orc?" Legolas said as his eyes lit up.
"Well..." answered Tharamor, "they are short, unintelligible, clumsy, have long blonde hair, and they are unloved... not too much different then yourself." Elran tried to muffle his laughter.
"Here have this bow... I bet someday you'll be able to shoot them all in one foul swoop!" Elran said sarcastically.
Legolas picked up the bow carefully and glanced at it for a while. What if he could save Mirkwood from the "orcs", what if he could become a warrior and win the love of his father? So he ran off silently towards the forests and ran as far as his little legs could carry him.
"Where did that sharé go! Father will have our heads!" Elran panicked.
"That's if he even notices..." Tharamor conspired.
Legolas ran beyond Mirkwood into a land that he had never heard of before. "Oooh" he cooed when he saw the herd of horses in the pastures. He had never seen so many of them. He kept the bow and arrow in his hands and made sure that he took good care of them.
There were footsteps in the bushes behind him. He got scared and held the bow and arrow up to the rustle.
"That's not how you hold a bow." a small voice giggled.
"Who are you?" He whispered holding the bow behind him.
"Lelah." She whispered back. Quickly she rolled out from under the bushes.
"You're dirty, you have messy hair, and you're a girl." Legolas said in a fearful voice.
"Well, you're not dirty, you're hair is white, and you have odd ears!" Lelah retorted. "Are you an elf?"
"Yes. What are you?"
"I am a human."
Legolas shrugged his shoulders. He never had heard of a human before. He blurted out, "Well, I don't want to live in Mirkwood anymore, my father doesn't want to be my daddy, he only wants to be king!"
"Your dad is the king?!"
"Yes, and my brothers don't like me."
"Well, my sisters always want me out of the house." Lelah said, "it isn't all that bad, they are boring!"
"Come to Mirkwood with me, Lelah." Legolas begged as he took her hand.
"I have never seen elves before. Okay!" She squealed.
Off they trotted towards Mirkwood, but little did they know what or who they would find there...
To be continued...