The warm summer sun beat down on the young girl's legs and she sat in the tall, swaying grass in her back yard. The child lazily picked at wild flowers that grew throughout her yard, making a colorful bouquet that she was planning to give to her beloved mother.
The breeze played with her auburn locks, causing a few loose curls to escape from her braid and fall upon the side of her face, resting upon her young, round cheeks.
The girl, seemingly six years of age tucked her rouge tresses behind her pointed ear, something that was strange in the world she resided in. that wasn't the only strange thing about the girl. In reality, she was twelve, yet she bore the face of one that is six.
Her mother often told her that she was special, that all the other children would be so jealous of her, that it would be bad for them. That's why she seldom left her home, and when she did, she held onto her mother with all the strength in her small hands.
The child looked up from her flowers, dark blue eyes wide and curious as someone called out her name from the other side of the yard.
"Ilmare!" her step-brother of fourteen called, in his hand a football. His arm reached back, ready to throw it. "Catch!"
Ilmare threw up her short arms, dropping her bundle of flowers into her lap, but alas, she was too small. The ball went spiraling over her head into the woods that bordered her back yard. She was unconcerned about not being able to catch the ball, her attention going to the pile of flowers on her lap, bottom lip jutting out.
"Zach!" she whined. "You made me mess up my flowers! I was going to give those to mother!"
Zach rolled his eyes at Ilmare, crossing his arms over his chest in a form a teenage rebellion. "You made me lose my ball! I threw it right at you." He motioned towards the thick woods behind the young girl to where his precious ball had been stolen from him. "You're gonna have to get it."
Ilmare's eyebrows furrowed as she scrunched up her fair face. "Mother said I'm not supposed to go into the woods," she said in a small voice.
Zach scoffed, rolling his dark brown eyes. "I go into the woods all the time!" he exclaimed, highly annoyed at his step sister. Their mother adored her, always getting her the nicest things and babying her, all because of the strange growing disorder she had.
"You know," Zach said. "You're not special just because you have those dumb pointy ears and you age funny and mom gave you that stupid necklace." He sneered at the young girl.
Ilmare's hand immediately reached towards the small charm upon her neck. She had it for as long as she could remember. Her mother said it was from where she used to live, that it was a gem of pure starlight. Ilmare loved that description, using it as often as she could. She looked at the clear, teardrop shaped stone in her palm, wrapped intractably with almost white silver.
"You know what?" said Zach, using his last card. "I think you're scarred!"
Ilmare's jaw dropped and she stood from the ground, the flowers falling back into the sea of grass. She crossed her arms over her chest and stomped her foot in dainty dismay. "I am not!"
Zach motioned a hand towards the tree line. "Then prove it!" he smirked as her arms fell limply to the side as she eyed the woods nervously.
Zach didn't care that he was only two years her senior. She still acted like a six year old. He blamed their mother for it. She coddled her. She loved her daughter more than she loved her husband. Even at a young age, Zach could see that she didn't love their father as he loved her. Though Zach would never admit it, he felt sad for his father because of this.
Zach also wasn't very fond of Ilmare. She never paid attention to him until her teased her. When he first found out that he was to have a sibling, he was excited, but ever since he met the girl, she practically ignored him until he provoked her. She only ever paid attention to her mother.
Ilmare blinked her big eyes a couple times. "Are you sure mother would be okay with this?" she squeaked.
To hell with mother, Zach thought bitterly, but said; "I think she would want you to go," he tricked her. "You know, I hear that there is a castle in there." It was so easy to fool a six- well, technically twelve- year old.
He watched as her eyes shone in happiness. She loved anything to do with princesses and he knew that, and used it to his advantage.
"I guess it won't be too bad then." Ilmare said as she started walking towards the tree, a smile upon her small, pink lips.
Zach watched satisfied as she disappeared into the shadows of the trees in pursuit of his ball.
"And don't come back," he murmured to himself, meaning it with his whole being, waltzing happily back inside his home.
…
"Find the ball," Ilmare said to herself, her keen eyes scanning the forest floor. She hadn't ventured far in until she found it under a scraggily bush, void of anything green.
She smirked happily to herself as she gathered the ball in her short arms. See, I am not afraid!
She strolled happily along back to her brother, ready to prove that she could do anything he could, but only better.
Ilmare thought she only traveled a short distance, but she figured she estimated wrong, for it seemed like a much longer walk back. After a couple of minutes of walking, she paused in thought.
I must of taken a wrong path, she thought, retracing her steps, looking for the sad bush that had no leaves, only, even with her sharp eyes, she could not locate it. Ilmare's nose wrinkled in concentration, trying to recall other landmarks that she could remember, but none came to mind.
She let out a small sigh, but continued walking, sure that she would eventually find her way home. The young girl only walked a few feet before her long hair was snagged in a sharp branch, causing her call out in slight pain. She dropped the ball and tried to coax her hair out of the tangle.
After a few moments of her unskilled fingers fiddling with the branch, her hair was frees, but her braid fell out, her hair falling halfway down her back. She never really cut it. Her mother said that where she came from, a women's hair should be long. So Ilmare never wanted it an inch shorter than it had to be.
The little girl reached down for the ball, only to find that it was gone.
How strange, she thought. Perhaps I kicked it by mistake.
She studied the ground a few moments longer before a large bug crawled over her foot. Ilmare let out a high pitch shriek and jumped back.
I hate bugs! She felt her eyes stinging with tears, but Ilmare took a deep breath and calmed herself.
What does Maria do when she is scared? She thought back to her favorite story of The Sound of Music. She sings!
Ilmare took a couple of tentative steps before she began walking, singing quietly to herself. "Rain drops on roses and whiskers on kittens…" the young girl soon found herself grinning as she continued with the familiar tune.
She began wandering, not really sure where she was, but it didn't matter! For her favorite things were there to comfort her.
Ilmare giggled to herself as she danced through the woods, twirling around towering trees, her skirt fanning out around her.
"And then I don't feel," Ilmare paused the grand finale as she saw what she stumbled upon. Through the gaps of the trees, she saw a clear pool with a beautiful bridge above it, flowers of every sort and kinds she had never seen before grew upon its banks.
Ilmare's eyes grew in wonder as she found herself gravitating towards toward the garden. She skillfully slipped through the gaps in the trees until she stood on the edge of the water, watching small fish dart around close to the surface.
Ilmare grinned excitedly and dropped to her knees, dipped a small hand into the water. She shivered slightly as her bare flesh came in contact with the cold liquid. The child repeated this process a few times before a voice she didn't recognize sounded behind her, causing Ilmare to jump.
"Why are you in my Naneths' garden?"
Ilmare's head whipped around, facing a young boy with almost white blond hair and bright blue eyes. He appeared to be the same age as Ilmare.
The young girl thought for a moment, before a thought crossed her mind. "You speak Sindarin? My mother said that only certain people can speak it." Ilmare's mother had taught it to her from a young age, saying that it was important that she learned the culture of her people. She had never known anyone else to speak it.
The boy looked at her curiously. "Everyone here can speak it." He said as though it were obvious. "But why are you here?"
Ilmare shrugged her small shoulders. "I got lost and I somehow found this place, I think it's very beautiful." She said, casting a sweeping look at her surroundings.
The boy nodded proudly. "My mother has the most beautiful garden in all of Greenwood."
Ilmare nodded enthusiastically (Though not knowing what Greenwood was), looking at the boy again, this time, noticing his ears. Her small mouth formed an 'o' of surprise.
"Your ears are like mine!" she exclaimed excitedly, brushing back her hair as to prove her point.
The boy eyes Ilmare strangely. What an odd elfling. He thought. She seemed astonished by the most normal things.
"How old are you?" Ilmare asked, standing up, crossing her arms behind her back.
"Thirteen!" said the boy happily.
Ilmare's grin grew wider if possible. "I am twelve. What is your name?"
"Legolas," he said, giving a small smile to the young elleth. Elflings were rare, and Legolas was mightily happy to meet one his age. "And you are?"
"Ilmare." The girl said, deciding very quickly that she liked this boy. She looked at him with hopeful eyes. "Will you be my friend?" The word friend was strange and exotic for her, never having a real one before, only her imaginary ones.
Legolas nodded rapidly, happy to have met a friend his age. Everyone else in Greenwood was already of age. The boy pointed to the center of the garden. "Will you help me find my mother? We are playing hide and seek."
Her dark blue eyes glittered. "Sounds like fun!"
Legolas waved a hand towards the center of the garden, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. "Well, come on then!"
The two kids ran side by side as fast as their short legs could carry them. Legolas was a tad bit faster than Ilmare, making the girl work a bit harder to keep pace with him.
Legolas cupped a hand around his mouth and called out. "Naneth! Naneth, come out now!"
At the young boy's voice, the most beautiful woman Ilmare had even seen stepped out from behind a thick trunk of a towering tree. Her hair was a few shades darker than Legolas', her skin flawless and fair. Her slim figure was garbed in flowing white robe, the sleeves hanging down almost to the ground. Ilmare watched her in wonder as she smiled at her son.
"Legolas, you know that's not how you play the game," she scolded lightly, but with love in her eyes. Her gaze then fell upon Ilmare, her brows rising in question. "My son, who is this?"
Legolas turned to the young girl beside him. "This is Ilmare," he explained. "She was by the fish pond. I believe she is lost."
Ilmare, thought his mother. The guardian spirit of the stars. She studied the child, seeing the stone upon her neck, a knowing smile upon her lips. She is rightly named. She will be a beautiful elleth.
The woman knelt in front of Ilmare, looking at her with kind, green eyes. "Where have you come from, my child?"
Ilmare shifted nervously, looking at the fair women in front of her. "I went into the woods to find our ball, but I got lost."
The women studied the child's eyes, seeing no lie in them. The girl was pure of heart. "Where are your parents?"
Ilmare opened her mouth, but shut it abruptly, lost in thought. Mother will be so mad at me! She thought. She and father will be so mad at me that they will never want to see me again! The thought saddened her greatly. Ilmare's young mind got the better of her, now firmly believing that her parents wouldn't want her anymore.
"They do not like me." Ilmare said, her bottom lip jutting out. "They do not love me anymore." She felt tears pricking at her eyes again.
The women looked at the child with pity, seeing how sad she was. She placed a comforting hand upon her small shoulder. "It will be alright, Ilmare. My name is Melian."
Ilmare gave her a watery smile. "It is a pleasure to meet you, my lady." She said, reciting the phrase her mother etched into her mind.
Melian smiled at the young girl's manners, turning to Legolas by her side. "How would you like for Ilmare to live with us?"
Legolas grinned widely. "It would be fun!"
Melian watched as Ilmare's mood turned from dark, to excited. The small girl turned to her. "You would really let me do that?" she exclaimed, pleased to have met the two.
Melian gave a soft nod, standing and taking hold of Ilmare's small hand. She turned to her son. "Come along, Legolas. "Let us go back home."
Melian gently guided Ilmare along, watching with amusement as the child took in every sight with wide eyes.
Ilmare looked down at the ground and jumped with fright when a frog hopped onto their path. A small gasp escaped her lips as she hid her face in Lady Melian's skirts, holding onto her leg tight. Ilmare hated frogs almost as much as she loathed bugs.
Legolas, nothing his new friend's discomfort, jumped to the rescue.
"Don't worry Ilmare!" he cried, chasing the frog away. The young girl peaked out of the folds of the dress to make sure that the pest was in fact, gone. She let out a small sigh of relief.
"Thank you." She breathed.
Legolas crossed his arms over his chest proudly. "I am training to be a warrior!" he explained. "I must always protect my people."
Ilmare tilted her head in confusion at his usage of words. "My people?" she asked, curious.
Melian looked down upon Ilmare, smiling softly. "Yes, child. Legolas is a prince."
Ilmare's eyes grew large as she looked at the boy in a new light. She blinked a few times before looking up a Melian. "If Legolas is a prince… that means you are a queen!"
"Wow," Ilmare breathed as they continued to walk.
The sun was just beginning to sink below the horizon, turning the green trees shade of pink, red and yellow. It was truly a beautiful sight.
Melian gave a small nod to the guards posted outside the outer gates as she walked in breezily with the two children. The two elves watched Ilmare curiously, wondering who she was and why she was with the royal family. Ilmare didn't notice their stares. She was captured by the grandness of the halls around her.
The roof was tall and rounded bridges of stone and roots criss-crossing across the air. Wood elves wandered about, going on their daily business, some of them pausing and bowing in respect to their queen, whom they all adored.
Ilmare took in every detail she could before they stopped in front of a hall with a tall, sweeping doorframe detailed with gold and green. There was a dark haired elf positioned in front of it and immediately opened the door, bowing in respect.
Ilmare was going to say thank-you to the kind person, but Lady Melian and Legolas said nothing, so she followed suit, not wanting to say anything wrong and embarrass herself.
The hall was dimly lit, with a few doors on the left and right. It was small and cozy. Beautiful painting decked the walls of fair women and courageous men or of paintings of the trees and rivers that resided in the woods.
Melian stopped in front of a tall door towards the end of the hall and looked towards Ilmare.
"This will be your room, young one." She lightly pushed open the door, revealing a lavish room with a huge bed, a writing desk, wardrobe, bookshelves, and even a small washroom connected to it.
Ilmare almost couldn't believe that this room was for her. "Th-thank you, Lady Melian." She said, blinking a few times, trying to keep herself awake. The child was very weary.
Melian noticed this and pointed towards the bed. "Go rest now. If you need anything, Legolas' room is right across from yours." She smiled sweetly at the young girl. "Ollo vae," (Sweet dreams)
The queen shut the door once she was sure Ilmare was comfortable in her bed. She turned towards her son. "It is time that you got to bed as well."
Legolas pouted, but couldn't contain the yawn that escaped his lips. "Okay…" he said in defeat, easily giving in and quickly getting ready for bed.
"Tell ada I said goodnight," he whispered to his mother as she tucked him in.
Melian felt a pang of worry at the thought of her husband, worried of what he would say to Ilmare. She hoped that he would trust the young child. She had not given them any reason to believe otherwise, but her mate was wary of strangers, willing to go to any ends to protect his family and people.
"Of course, Legolas," she said softly as she planted a soft kiss upon his brow. The boy soon drifted off to sleep.
Melian left slowly and went to her husband's study, where she knew he would be. She lightly pushed on the door, opening it without a sound. When her husband didn't look up from the papers he was poring over, Melian softly tapped her knuckles on the door.
"Thranduil?"
The elven king looked up from the documents, his look of concentration turning into one of adoration when he laid his eyes upon his beloved wife. He stood from his desk and crossed the room to her in a couple of swift strides.
"Melian," he said, holding her fair face in his hands, he placed a soft kiss on her forehead, lips barely brushing her skin. He peered behind her, looking for his son whom always came in before he retired for the night. "Where is Legolas?"
"He went to bed early, but told me to tell you good night." Melian explained. "He had… a rather interesting day," she shuffled towards her husband's desk, flipping through a couple of papers, studying letters from the other realms, trades, and so on.
Thranduil furrowed his brows. "What was so interesting?"
Melian sighed, placing the papers back down, thinking of how to tell her mate of Ilmare. She grasped his hands in her own, looking into his eyes. "There was a young elfling in my garden today; an elleth. The same age as Legolas."
Thranduil's grip tightened around Melian's small hands. "Did she try to do anything to hurt you and Legolas?" A wave of protectiveness washed over the king.
Melian rapidly shook her head. "No! Far from it. She was lost, her family abandoned her," well, that's what she understood from what the child told her. "She is such a small thing and gets along so well with Legolas…"
The king raised an eyebrow. "What are you trying to say?" Thranduil questioned.
Melian exhaled loudly. "My love, I want her to stay here. With us. Legolas will need a friend his age."
Thranduil dropped his wife's hands and rubbed his face, pinching the bridge of his nose. So many possibilities rushed through his mind. What if she had been placed here for some diabolical reason? What if the girl would try to hurt Legolas, or worked for someone who did.
Melian took a step closer to her husband, looking at him with wide, pleading eyes. "Thranduil, I know what you are thinking. The child has nothing but light in her heart. I believe she will be a great healer! She could train with ours."
"Where is the child now?" the king asked, an edge in his voice.
"In our hall," the queen said reluctantly. "Asleep in one of the unused rooms." She saw a flash of worry in her mate's eyes. "There is nothing she could do, even if she wanted to. There are no windows in her room, and she would have to get past countless guards to let anyone into the caves."
Thranduil relaxed slightly, giving his wife some ease of mind. "Fine." He said curtly. He looked towards his wife with large, pleading eyes. "Just please, be careful."
Melian grinned widely. "Of course, my love."
The queen couldn't wipe the smirk off her lips until she was asleep.
…
In Ilmare's short lifespan, she couldn't recall ever sleeping so well. She buried her face into the cloud like pillows, holding on to the last shreds of her dreams. She opened one blue eye and peered around her, making sure that she really was there. She hauled herself up, giving a mighty yawn and stretching her small limbs. Ilmare blinked the sleep out of her eyes and scratched the back of her head. She tossed the covers off her legs and slid out of bed, wiggling her toes once they made contact with the cool stone floor.
She wandered towards the small desk, delighted to find the heaps of papers and writing utensil that decorated it. Ilmare struggled into the tall chair, sitting upon her knees so that she could see over the desk. Ilmare grabbed a thick piece of paper, a quill, and a jar of jet black ink. She struggled for a moment, working the cap off, but the girl eventually managed.
Ilmare dipped the nib of the quill into the ink and got to work sketching. The young girl was skilled with art, always making her mother proud. Ilmare was exceptional for twelve, and in fact, was more skilled with a pencil than most grown people.
She began making the shapes of flowers up and down the page with graceful, twisting vines and curving leaves. Ilmare didn't look up from her work until there was a small knock on the door. The girl looked over her shoulder and said, "Come in!" before turning back to the page, adding the finishing touches.
Ilmare looked at her ink-stained hands, wiping them on the already dirty skirt. She hopped off the chair and turned towards the woman who had entered her room, her slender arms full of dresses.
Ilmare studied her thoughtfully, taking in her pretty face, pointed nose, long, dark hair, and her blue eyes that sparkled in the light.
The elleth nodded respectfully before saying. "You are Ilmare, correct?" her voice was soft and clear.
The girl nodded. "Yes, that is me. What is your name?"
The woman looked surprised at the question, stumbling over her tongue before answering. "Aerin."
Ilmare grinned widely. "It is very nice to meet you, Lady Aerin."
The elleth smiled sincerely. "The same goes to you, my child." Aerin lowered the bundles of clothes onto the messy bed. "The queen sent to have some dresses made up for you and delivered."
Ilmare's dark blue eyes moved from the lovely elleth before her to the variety of dresses folded upon her bed.
"Which one would you like to wear?" Aerin asked, smiling fondly at the girl.
Ilmare eyed the pile, searching for a color that jumped out. She pointed at a sky blue fabric. "That one, please!"
Aerin picked through the other dresses until she had Ilmare's desired gown in her hands. The elleth unfolded it, showing the full detail to Ilmare, who gasped at its beauty.
The fabric shone in the light, gold details sparkling. At the waist, was a white belt. The sleeves tightened at the forearm, and then spread out to the wrist.
"This is for me?" Ilmare whispered in disbelief. It looks like a dress for a princess.
Aerin chuckled at the girl's bewildered expression. "Yes, Ilmare. It is. As well as the rest of them," she gestured to the rest of the gowns on her bed.
"Wow," breathed the girl. She turned to the woman beside her. "Will you help me put it on, please?"
"Of course," said Aerin. "That is why I am here."
First, Ilmare was put into a thin under dress. It was silky and soft against her skin. Then, Aerin pulled the blue dress over her head, tying the laces in the back for Ilmare, for the girl wouldn't be able to do it.
Ilmare examined the dress, very happy with how it looked on her. It didn't quite touch the floor, but it stopped at about her ankles, showing her bare feet. She furrowed her brows, turning to the woman to ask about it, but Aerin was one step ahead of her. She held two black slippers in her hands.
Ilmare impatiently tugged the thin shoes upon her feet, eager to go see and play with Legolas again. She started towards the door, only to have Aerin pick her up by her waist and put her in front of the vanity desk in the corner of her room.
"Not yet, you don't," she said with amusement in her voice. Aerin already liked this elfling very much and was happy to be posted as her handmaiden.
Ilmare pouted up at the elleth, crossing her arms over her chest. "Why not?"
Aerin chuckled and tugged at a frizzy strand of her auburn hair, showing it to the girl. "Your hair is very messy. We can't have you going out and about like that."
Ilmare looked at her reflection in the mirror, cringing at her hair. It was very bad. "Oh. Okay."
Aerin gracefully picked up a hair brush from the table and ran it through her tangled tresses. Ilmare was very pleased that Aerin managed to make it painless. Not once did she pull her hair.
"Would you like me to braid it?" Aerin asked once she was sure Ilmare's hair was knot-free.
"Yes, please." Answered the young girl politely.
Aerin's nimble fingers got to work, manipulating Ilmare's hair into simple braids. It didn't take her more than a minute, and for that, Ilmare was thankful. She didn't think that she could sit still for another moment.
"There," said Aerin, placing her hands upon her hips. "All done!"
The moment those words left her lips, Ilmare sprang out of the chair. "Thank you very much, Lady Aerin."
Aerin laughed at the young girl's excited behavior. "It was my pleasure. Now, I am to take you to the Lady Melian. She wishes for you to meet her and Legolas to break your fast."
Ilmare's hands went to her stomach. Now that she mentioned it, she was rather hungry. Ilmare smiled shyly at Aerin. "Thank you."
And with that, Ilmare was taken to meet her new found friend and Lady Melian.