A/N: Hmm, my first ever romantic one-shot. AU/OOC, Fluffy beyond any story's deserving, and rather long. This one was written quite awhile back, but I had never gotten around to typing it up. I wasn't sure if I wanted to share it, but I thought "What the heck, ifpeople canread the retarded Elimidate stories, this one's got a shot, at least." So read, and review! If you like romance, you're in for a treat, but if not…I do have other funny and serious stories on this site…you might like to check them out. (SHAMELESS PLUG ALERT! ) PS, don't rake me over the coals if I've misused the Elvish. This is why I don't put stuff like that in my stories. At the end, I did, however quote the source from whence the Elvish came, so check it out if you get the chance.
All The Lights In The Sky
I walk into the gardens, not really knowing why I seek her out. I tell myself to leave her alone, let her grieve properly.
But there she is, by the roses, nearly concealed by the starlight pink and white blossoms. Only the white train of her dress and a single slender foot protrude from behind the thick, fragrant foliage. Her foot, I see, is bare, and her milky skin is the color of her gown, so it is difficult to tell where she leaves off and the dress begins.
As I approach, I begin to see past her dainty foot, and the rest of her comes into view. And what a glorious sight she is, for though she weeps, her very being is the picture of loveliness and innocence. In that moment, she is more beautiful to me than all the fairest of all the elleths I have ever known.
Her hair is down, and its russet waves fall to her knee, concealing her face from me for the moment. But I wish to see her eyes, so I clear my throat softly.
Slowly, the sapphire orbs, red-rimmed from her weeping, are fixed upon me. My very heart breaks at the pain and torment I see reflected in them. But at the same instant, I see that there is also relief and, do I see it? Yes! Gladness.
She is glad to see me, and my heart flutters once more with hope inside of me.
I go to her. I long to hold her and kiss her and protect her from the pain she knows. To keep her from ever knowing pain again. But I know I cannot. I must be content to soothe the sorrow she is bearing, and hope that in some small way I can comfort her tears tonight.
She motions for me to sit, and scoots to the left to make room for me on the stone bench. She makes no move to speak or otherwise, and we sit in heavy silence, punctuated by her sniffles.
How I long to tell her that I love her, that I have always loved her and always desire to hold her and caress her. But I do not. Not yet.
"You have spoken with him, then?" I ask at length.
This starts a new wave of tears, as she nods sadly, and I feel a pang of guilt at starting the fresh flood with a question that had already been answered as soon as I had laid eyes on her. I never want to make her cry.
"Yes," she says softly. "He…loves another." She speaks hesitantly, as if looking for reassurance that it was not so. I cannot give her such a guarantee and I nearly loathe myself for it.
I know of whom she is speaking. I spoke with him last night, told him he had to choose. I was tired of seeing her used, without her knowing it. I feel guilty that I didn't put my foot down from the very start, before things had progressed. It's just that I didn't think they would have gone this far. I have known him for many years, and he has always seemed to be a man of honour and truthfulness. I have never known him to be swayed by foolish emotions, nor have I known him to break a promise.
Yet tonight, it seems, he has done both. And it has hurt the woman I love.
"Nin muin mellon, I'm sorry," I say to her, brokenly. "If I had known that he-"
She cuts me off with a wave of her hand. Her lovely, delicate, smooth little white hand. "No, it is not your fault. I was warned that this might happen, but I didn't heed it. I thought I could trust him." She sniffles again into her handkerchief, wet with her tears. "En bein deleb adan. His blue eyes do look very sincere when he is telling you he will love you always, and come back for you."
I smile slightly. "I would not know. He and I have not had the pleasure of that manner of speaking."
She steals a look at me. Then she nudges me with her elbow and smiles back. Oh, the world melts around me when she smiles. I thank the stars in their heavens that at least he has not robbed her of that.
"What are you thinking of?" she asks, still looking at me.
I realize I have been smiling at her, while these feelings of love have been washing over me. But I can't tell her that. "Just how good it is to see you smile," I manage to reply, not realizing I am blushing.
"Is that so?" She seems suspicious. "Does my smile so captivate you as to bring color to your cheeks?"
That, of course, makes me blush even redder. "Oh…I hadn't realized I was…" I am at a loss for words, for once, and embarrassed now, afraid she has guessed what I long to tell her. I stand, bowing to her, and turn to go.
"Wait." Something in her voice has caught me, and halted me. "Do not leave me yet." I sit once more, and she takes my arm. This is almost more than I can bear. I had not realized the love I have always bourne for her had grown in such leaps and bounds, these last years spent away.
"I'm sorry," I say ruefully, "I only meant to leave you to your thoughts. I know you wish to be alone."
"No." She squeezes my arm. "That has passed."
"I am very glad to hear that," I tell her, understating my feelings immensely.
"Are you quite sure there isn't something else on your mind tonight?" She asks the question with a careful look at me.
"No, why do you ask?" I am again afraid I have given myself away.
The hand grasping my arm tightens almost imperceptibly. "You are trembling," she notes. She is right. I am.
She stands and moves in front of me, pulling my chin up so that my face is out in the open. I can no longer lie, not when the love of my life is staring into my eyes with her own sparkling blue jewels. I stand abruptly, and move a few paces from her so that I can properly deliver my message. I no longer trusted myself, so close to her.
"I hope this doesn't come at a bad time, although you've all but torn it from me," I begin. I turn and look her full in the face. "I love you, Arwen. I have always loved you." I pause, expecting her to recoil from me, or perhaps strike me for making light of her current situation.
Instead she looks back at me in such a way that I know what she is going to say even before the words are formed, and my heart leaps with joy. "I love you, too," she almost whispers. I have waited such along time to hear those words, and had despaired of ever hearing them.
We embrace, and my lips brush her hair, her forehead, her cheek, and finally her full, pink lips. I have wanted to kiss her for so long, and this is like a dream come true. Her arms are around me, and mine around her, stroking her soft brown hair. How I have wanted to touch that hair, to wind it around my fingers and bury my face in it. Long years of emotional restraint come flooding out of my soul, and I never want to let go of her.
But finally we part, and she leans contentedly against my chest and whispers, "My Legolas, how ridiculous I feel. Nin mel, if I had only known you felt this way too, I would never have even thought of loving a mortal."
I wince at the thought. "Don't." I tell her, "I could have told your father ages ago, literally, but I wanted you to be happy. I did not want it to become a forced marriage, like the one my mother grew to be so unhappy in. I did not know all of this would happen, or…"
"No, Legolas, neither of us expected it." She smiles at me, and all the lights in the sky come to rest in her face. "That's what makes this moment the sweetest one I have ever known."
"That it is, my darling Evenstar. Nin luthien." I smile at her and tenderly brush a lock of hair from her cheek. Then my lips capture hers again.
Elvish translations:
(Source: Nevrast's Elvish dictionary)
Nin muin mellon: My dear friend
En bein deleb adan: The handsome, horrible man
Nin mel: My love
Nin luthien: My enchantress.