She had always been there, and he had always loved her. Everything about
her was so perfect, so wonderful. She moved like fluid grace, seeming to
float wherever she stepped. Her hair was as fair and fine as the wind
itself and her eyes were deep and wise as the very sea that called to him.
She reminded him of that which lay beyond the sea, that which he had never
yet known.
And yet, something was missing.
He did not know what it was for the longest time. Until he met Her. She was a human, and he did not truly understand how it was that she could fulfill what his Love, his Serelis, could not, but there was indeed something.
He thought about it often. He thought about their loves. This human, this Glawdrith, acted like no elf ever would. There was a desperation in her, a hunger that Legolas felt only when he was with her. He and Serelis had come together, but it was so much different. He had always loved it, but after Glawdrith, he was not sure why. He never remembered much of it, it was like floating in a bath of cool water. There was no lust, no passion. Everything was love between them.
With Glawdrith it was different. He remembered how she forced him onto his back, her clumsy hands trying to be quick, her skin heating his own cool skin. There was fire in her eyes, and fire in her heart. She had passion, and she brought him to lust.
He had spent long hours contemplating this, when finally he realized why this girl, this child, really, had so much desperation and need and haste: humans do not live forever. Humans do not have an eternity.
Everything about her life was fast-paced, from her speech to her walk to her loving. She had none of the elegance, the charm or the patience that he had grown accustomed to in his own people. While Serelis's eyes would have their same gray-blue oceanic tone in five hundred years, Glawdrith might not last fifty. Finally he saw this, and once he did, he loved her for it.
And yet, something was missing.
He did not know what it was for the longest time. Until he met Her. She was a human, and he did not truly understand how it was that she could fulfill what his Love, his Serelis, could not, but there was indeed something.
He thought about it often. He thought about their loves. This human, this Glawdrith, acted like no elf ever would. There was a desperation in her, a hunger that Legolas felt only when he was with her. He and Serelis had come together, but it was so much different. He had always loved it, but after Glawdrith, he was not sure why. He never remembered much of it, it was like floating in a bath of cool water. There was no lust, no passion. Everything was love between them.
With Glawdrith it was different. He remembered how she forced him onto his back, her clumsy hands trying to be quick, her skin heating his own cool skin. There was fire in her eyes, and fire in her heart. She had passion, and she brought him to lust.
He had spent long hours contemplating this, when finally he realized why this girl, this child, really, had so much desperation and need and haste: humans do not live forever. Humans do not have an eternity.
Everything about her life was fast-paced, from her speech to her walk to her loving. She had none of the elegance, the charm or the patience that he had grown accustomed to in his own people. While Serelis's eyes would have their same gray-blue oceanic tone in five hundred years, Glawdrith might not last fifty. Finally he saw this, and once he did, he loved her for it.