I apologise that it has taken me so long to repost this and that I have only reposted one chapter, but it's a start! I will try and repost all the rest as soon as possible. Please note that only the paragraphs have changed, not the text. Thank you.
Disclaimer: Okay, here goes… I do not own anything in this story except the characters of Vēnea, Aswen, Keldarion and Estel and the plot line. It was written in tandem so some ideas belong to my co-author. Everything that you recognise belongs to J.R.R. Tolkein and some inferences refer to the Mellon Chronicles by Cassia and Siobhan. I think that's it… Oh yeah, and I'm making no profit from this; nada, zilch, so please, if anything upsets you, don't sue me. Thank you and now that that's over with, on with the story!
Summary: Legolas falls in love but since when is anything in life easy for that elf? Now he has to choose between two women who are both desperately in love with him. What will he do, when to choose one is to break the other's heart? Written from the POV of Vēnea. Read also 'Shadows of Eternity' from Oselle's POV. Please also note that the stories differ entirely from chapters 3/4 onwards, leaving the reader to decide which ending they prefer.
Part One
At First Sight
Now would you mind if I bared my soul
If I came right out and said you're beautiful
Because there's something I can't explain
I feel I'm diving into driving rain
You get my senses running wild
I can't resist your sweet, sweet smile
So take this feeling and make it grow
Never let it – never let it go
Bryan Adams – Don't Let Go
The orc swung his blade in a lethal strike aimed at my neck that would certainly have severed it in one swift blow had not the split second's warning of a cracking twig alerted me to his presence. Ducking low I brought my blade around in an arching sweep swiping the legs out from underneath my opponent and dropping him to the floor. Raising my sword with speed that surprised even myself I plunged the blade deep into it's heart and turned away quickly not wanting to see the spark of life fade from the eyes of any creature living, even an orc.
I pivoted, moving myself as far away as possible from the still form and wiped the back of my hand in an extended motion over my brow, hoping to clean away the stains of sweat and blood that had accumulated there and now dripped down into my eyes, threatening to obscure my vision completely.
I neatly side-stepped another warring pair that began their battle mere feet ahead of the point where I stood and my eyes scoured the battle field for the only familiar face in a sea of hostility. My companion was nowhere to be seen, but even in the brief moment that I had taken my attention from my immediate surroundings an orc had crept up unnoticed inside my defences, with a cry of terror and dismay I threw myself forward and hopefully out of the way of the fatal arch of the blade.
Blinding agony engulfed all my senses as the steel burned a gash onto the inside of my left shin and I writhed to face my opponent. The stench of orc filled my nostrils and I resisted the urge to gag at the sight before me. The most hideous face I had ever seen stared into mine, the orc stood, fresh blood dripping from the hideous crevices on it's face and an evil sneer perpetually carved onto it's twisted features.
I heaved in my breath and battled with the overwhelming instinct to scream, instead, schooling my features to blankness, I whipped my sword up level with his face and feinted towards the right, ignoring the burning protest from my shin as I did so.
The orc fell for my tactic and changed his stance to deliver a blow to my arm and so throw off my attack. Planting my feet firmly beneath me I halted my motion and thrust my sword forward in a single powerful blow. It should have been unavoidable. My sword plunged heavily into thin air, the force of my strike pulling me with it; I stumbled and struggled to regain my composure turning just quickly enough to see the orc straighten from the crouch he had dropped into. His motions were swift and deliberate and within two strides he towered over me, sweat and blood mingling in droplets that fell glutinously onto my exposed neck.
Part determination that the jeering face of an orc would not be the last thing I saw and part fear made me close my eyes and drawing in one last desperate breath I tried vainly to prepare myself for the sharp bite of steel. I felt the cold sting of air as something swept past my face cutting a smooth line along my cheek. Pain where I had not expected it forced me to open my eyes and I let out the breath I'd been holding as the orc slumped forward on top of me an arrow protruding from his stomach, his eyes glazed in shock.
A slender pale hand reached down to help me up from the position I had fallen into and I gazed gratefully into the Elven face of my companion, "Osellë!" I gasped, as I was pulled none too gently to my feet. " What took you so long?" I questioned some of my normal cheerful spirit returning as the dread I had felt began to drain away. My efforts were not rewarded as Osellë merely returned my gratified grin with an irritated scowl. Fortunately I had come to know her well enough these past few days to interpret that scowl for the concern it really was.
"Foolish mortal!" she chided me, "Do not make the mistake of thinking that associating with elves makes you one of them! You can be killed far easier than you would like to think and I would not lose you so soon." Her words were accompanied by a slight shake of the head and emotions glinted in her eyes that spoke more than words ever could. I bowed my head slightly, unsure of how to respond. The wound in my leg ached dully and I had not meant to alarm my companion.
" I did not mean to be bested by an orc, and I apologise if I alarmed you, but you see he caught me off guard and-" Osellë cut me off her eyes shining as dark humour glinted in their depths.
" You are beginning to make a habit out of this," she teased, " I have a feeling it will not be long before all my time on this battlefield is spent keeping you out of mischief!" My former grin returned and I was about to respond when she turned away from me suddenly dropping to the ground in a ready for action stance. I tensed and tried vainly to pick upon on whatever it was she had sensed, but my senses were no match for that of an elf and the danger so far eluded me.
"There is a disturbance to the East. I can hear horns calling for aid, something is coming…" before I had chance to question her further Osellë had grasped my sleeve and was pulling me with her at an Elven pace towards the shore.
My raven hair bobbed along, carried playfully by the breeze as we hastened towards the beach. Oft and anon I had been told I had my father's hair, but I rather fancied it to be more like my mother's. Although at first glance it seemed to be a deep black-brown I, and those who knew me well, knew that when it caught the light it shone as red as if it was on fire. My blue eyes had also been described as burning, but I had a feeling it was more the boys trying to flatter me than the truth. Even so, as we sped on towards the sandy shores not so far ahead, I caught a glimpse of myself in a puddle and my gaze was met with that of a fiery eyed brunette whose hair was glowing red in the late afternoon sun.
As we neared the borders of the shore the blasts on the horn began also to reach my ears and I tried to move faster in order to crest the ridge that blocked all view of the beach and whatever new danger we were headed to face. We struggled over the hill Osellë trying to pull me faster as my ungainly pace slowed our climb.
Not for the first time I came to wonder what could possibly have brought the Rivendell elf to support a human such as myself. Osellë's lustrous dark hair whipped into my face as a slight sea breeze caught it and her deep brown eyes scanned what mine could not for signs of danger. I marvelled her gracefulness, her movements held a fluidity that mine could never hope to match and her slender body deceived the eye of her great strength. She was taller than I was and her proud bearing made her seem taller still.
Any onlooker without knowledge of elves would have supposed her to be, as she looked, a beautiful, slender seventeen-year-old girl with eyes that seemed too old for her years. But it was the eyes that held the truth, for I knew my companion to be a two thousand year old elf whose beauty and grace matched a swift temper and a keen knowledge of all things.
But all such thoughts were stripped away with the sight that greeted me when we crested the slope. Ship upon ship was moored against the sandy dunes that rose to meet the sea, men had arrived, bringing with them more armies to join our battle and supplies to tend the wounded. My heart sang, such tidings would be a grievous blow to the orcs and already the beach was clear of them.
My eyes drifted in joy over the sight of so many new soldiers and supplies, lingering here and there as they took in new sights. I sucked in my breath as I sighted a figure at the head of one of the ships. He stood tall, slender hands gripping the wood, his eyes focused down on the beach in concern, the odd strand of hair flying free to float across his face. He was without doubt the most beautiful man I had ever seen. That, I decided, had to be a King.
Nudging Oselle with my elbow I directed her look to the man and was gratified by the intake of breath she took when her eyes lighted upon him. "Is he not handsome?" I whispered, "Surely that must be a King, no man should be as beautiful as he without Royal permission!" Her response was something I did not expect, she gave out the closest thing to a snort I have ever heard from an elf and turned to me with a look of vague amusement,
"That is not a King, though you are close" she replied," It is Legolas Greenleaf, Prince of the Woodland Realm. Though I admit he is handsome in a way that should be restricted, for it's effect on women in the past has been quite catastrophic!" I gave a snort of my own in derision, I had never before heard of this Elven Prince and I was determined that I should not fall prey to his enticing appearance, though the very sight of him held me in awe.
I noticed Osellë's eyes were locked onto his, her mouth silently forming words. His eyes were in return locked onto to hers as he silently replied. I for one could not make out a word she was saying, so when she dropped her eyes and looked away it registered that their conversation was over and I seized the opportunity to question her.
"What was said?" I inquired quietly; Osellë turned to face me and answered in kind. " He told me he was here with two friends, a human, Estel, and a Dwarf, name of Gimli. In return I told him your name, though I do not think he knew of whom I spoke. Maybe he cannot see you from the ship." The conversation over, I returned to staring at the Prince's back.
Tearing my gaze away by sheer force of will I took a faltering step over the side of the hill. I progressed no further before a cry from behind me caused me to spin on my heel. Spinning on the spot my sudden turn surprised the orc who had crept up on me while I was distracted with thoughts of the Elven Prince and he over-balanced and rolled down the hill where he was skewered by the swords of the men on the beach. A terrible voice whispered thickly in my ear,
"You'll pay for that stinking human!" followed by a trail of words that I did not understand, but took to be curses in some dark tongue. Getting my balance as best I could on the uneven ground I brought up my sword in a desperate parry, but the return blow of the orc drove me to my knees.
My arms trembled with the strain of staving off the orc's blow, and I risked a glance behind my opponent. With horror I saw that an entire party of orcs had followed us up the hill with intent to launch a surprise attack on the newly docked ships. Oselle and I had lost them the element of surprise and the orcs would take their retribution now.
Turning my sword to catch the curve of the orcish blade, I gave a sharp twist so the weapon flew beyond the orc's grasp. Thinking he could easily be defeated now, the tip of my blade wavered, drooping slightly as the aching feeling returned to my arms. This was all the distraction the orc needed and he backhanded me viciously with his steel-gloved hands.
I flew backwards, my vision blurring and conscious thought floating on the brink of oblivion. Through the haze I saw the orc stand over me, his blade returned to his grasp and hovering over my heart. "Vēnea!" I turned hearing Oselle scream my name – but her voice sounded distant and, held down by at least four orcs, she could not reach me. This time I was dead for sure.
Strands of hair blew over Legolas' face and he swiped them away in annoyance. The conversation with his friend, Oselle, had lightened his heart, but still, such carnage had been wrought here and so many had died. Distant noises of fighting reached his ears to the West and he snapped his head around to see two lone figures struggling with over twenty orcs. Leaping effortlessly from the prow of the boat, he landed catlike and hastened towards their position, ignoring Gimli's shouts of, "What's that elf up to now?" from behind him.
I remained still. Willing the blow to be fast and true, I awaited the strike that I was certain would fall. Nothing disturbed the air around me and when the agony of waiting became too much I opened my eyes to slits, praying that this was not some cruel orc trick. For the second time that day an orc slumped dead to the ground in front of me, an arrow protruding from his front.
I blinked in surprise, not trusting myself to move in case it was some kind of fear-induced mirage. Any doubts I might have had to the reality of my situation were dispelled moments later when I was hoisted with force to my feet. Assuming my rescuer to be Osellë I grinned and began to form some kind of witty comment when I caught sight of the hand on my arm. It was pale and slender, but I did not recognise it to be Osellë's.
Another elf then, but I was not aware that there were any other elves on the battlefield, and certainly none with motive to save me. It was with some annoyance that I turned to face my unknown rescuer, but the words caught in my throat. It was none other than the Prince himself at my elbow! I jerked my arm free somewhat rougher than I intended and turned my face away to hide my growing blush. He laughed and began to speak softly in my ear,
"Fear not! We all need rescuing at some point, and I think you no less of a man to have needed my aid." I started in shock. The Prince thought me a man! I was about to turn and correct his mistake when the hand on my elbow tightened suddenly and I was yanked just in time out of the path of a thundering Oliphant! When I turned the Prince was already halfway up the leg of the great beast and I did not think the time was right to correct his grievous mistake just then.
I whirled as a scream to my right tore through my consciousness and dread pulled at my heart. I watched as an orc sank his blade deeply into the side of my friend, driving her to her knees. My reflexes were not quick enough to reach her, but thankfully someone else's were. Osellë fainted into the Prince's arms and a flash of jealousy crossed my mind before being doused with reason. I made it to the side of the Prince and I could almost feel my pupils widening as I took in the extent of Osellë's wound.
