OK, here is the Prologue to Chapter 1, Chapter 1 and the Prologue to Chapter
2, for the Eyes of Eternity story. Please feel free to let me know what you
think, as I'm still writing more. My husband has beta'd this, so if you
have read the original prologue you may find that this reads better.
Disclaimer: I don't own Legolas, or Mirkwood. But I DO own everything that
is of the Silver Forest and the Silver Forest itself. Please do not reprint
this without my permission.
Link: http://www.silverforest.com/ - for more information on my other work.
Dedication: To my husband. My muse, my soul and my heart.
NOTES Anything written in the first person perspective is from Legolas'
point of view. Imagine him crowded around the campfire with the fellowship,
some time before Moria. Anything written in the third person,
conventionally, is "Eternity" speaking. She has a name, which will become
apparent before the end of the story.
---
The firelight gleamed in the azure depths of Legolas' eyes as he thought
back to his earlier adventures. Which tale would he tell this evening?
Perhaps one to entertain the Fellowship for the next few nights? What of
the tale of Telpë Taurë and the great war there? Yes, it was a good place
to start.
------ Legolas' PoV
Eyes of violet regarded me through the mists of dream. Eyes both wise and
young at once. I knew that I was looking at the agelessness of the elves,
my friends. I knew instinctively that I was gazing into the face of
eternity... And that the eternity would welcome me.
It is so very rare for us to dream that when I awoke I was surprised to
find myself alone. All of my companions had left and I was still at the
camp in Mirkwood. It was strange, because I knew we had agreed that they
would accompany me home since the Orcs had been very active in the last few
weeks. But I was less than a days' ride from home now and had no fear as I
put out their fire and took the remnants of my belongings with me.
Something in the shade of the trees whispered of danger less than an hour
after I had set out. Something in the bushes murmered of orcs. I set aside
my pack, released my horse and sprang to the safety of the nearest tree,
looking for signs of the disquiet I felt. However, their numbers were too
many and I was forced to withdraw.
Skimming through the treetops, it seemed almost too easy to avoid the Orcs.
I watched them from each tree as they milled around below me, unaware of my
presence. It was not long ere I had made it to a place of relative safety,
but something still did not feel right. Alas, it was a trap, for I saw
another group of the detested creatures less than half a mile from the
first. Butchered and in their midst were my companions, dead or dying. The
thoughts of their plans for the fate of my comrades brought anger to me and
I resolved to escape and muster the elves of Mirkwood to bring these orcs
to task.
Again, it seemed that Fate had other plans in store for me, as one of their
number looked up, through the boughs, straight into my eyes. Although he
died of my arrow, his final breath was raised in warning. Their prey had
found them and now their ugly little game of cat and mouse could begin.
Again I fled through the tops of the trees, my footfalls silent as the
whisper of the breeze, but an Orc arrow snatched away my next branch,
whipping it out from under my boot. Falling, I managed to land on my feet,
but more arrows were claiming the spaces I occupied. I was forced to move,
continually trying to evade their heavy, murderous arrows thudding into the
trees around me. However, one grazed past my face, it's sharpened feathers
slicing through the skin of my cheek. Trying to avoid it and the numerous
other arrows, I slipped. Loosing my balance, I fell. You must remember, I
was still very young at the time. Again, Fate had ideas for me. My head
found a rock nestled in the underbrush. Darkness stole all memory except
for astonished gasps from the orcs.
Why they were surprised, I soon found out.
I felt my bow trapped underneath my shoulders, my arrows trapped in my hair
or behind my back, as I awoke. I slowly opened my eyes, the harsh light of
the sun assailing me when I did not expect it. Expecting to find trees
above me, all I could see was the open expanse of the sky. The sun glinted
off a metallic object at the edge of my field of vision. I turned my head
slightly and pain brought me back to full consciousness, only to be staring
down the shaft of a white-fletched arrow. The wielder of the bow muttered
something that sounded vaguely like Quenya, but I did not recognise even
the first word. I struggled to focus on her, the stern voice of my captor
demanding an answer. The problem was I did not know the question.
Another presence to my right begged my attention. I sat up slowly, my
hands supporting me as I realised that my head hurt terribly. I felt the
warmth of a stream of blood trickling down the side of my face, but pushed
the thought to the back of my mind. I could not afford to be distracted by
anything and so I turned.
...And looked straight into the eyes of eternity framed by moonlight.
Silver hair framed a face of such delicacy that she could only be pure
blooded Elven. Her features spoke of the harshness of the winter's fury,
the elves of the mountains. Her fingers caressed a bow, the likes of which
I had never seen before. It looked like carved ivory, wrapped with leather
in the style of the elves of Mirkwood. Upon her back, fletched with white,
rode arrows made of the same ivory-like wood. Resting at her side,
sheathed in a battered leather scabbard, lay a beautifully crafted blade,
the hilt and pommel gleaming gold in the fading light of their day. She
wore armour, bleached to white, but I was stunned to see the word
Envinyatar, 'Renewer', etched in grey-blue on her right shoulder.
But her eyes! They were the stuff that dreams were forged from! They were
violet as amethyst. She gazed at me with both wisdom and kindness. A
soft, swift word to the younger woman who had threatened me and I was no
longer a captive of war... just a captive of eternal beauty. It was that
beauty that stole away my consciousness. I did not wake for three days, or
so I was informed.
----- The Present
"And the rest shall I speak of tomorrow, for you are all tired after the
days' marching." Legolas smiled at the hobbits and his four other
companions, before demurely standing and moving away for the night to let
them sleep. He tilted his face to the sky, vividly remembering those
eyes... almost able to see them in the depths of the inky night. But
another pair of eyes overshadowed them, eyes of such brilliant blue that
made his look grey in comparison. He sighed, remembering fondly all that
had transpired. And he rested.
2, for the Eyes of Eternity story. Please feel free to let me know what you
think, as I'm still writing more. My husband has beta'd this, so if you
have read the original prologue you may find that this reads better.
Disclaimer: I don't own Legolas, or Mirkwood. But I DO own everything that
is of the Silver Forest and the Silver Forest itself. Please do not reprint
this without my permission.
Link: http://www.silverforest.com/ - for more information on my other work.
Dedication: To my husband. My muse, my soul and my heart.
NOTES Anything written in the first person perspective is from Legolas'
point of view. Imagine him crowded around the campfire with the fellowship,
some time before Moria. Anything written in the third person,
conventionally, is "Eternity" speaking. She has a name, which will become
apparent before the end of the story.
---
The firelight gleamed in the azure depths of Legolas' eyes as he thought
back to his earlier adventures. Which tale would he tell this evening?
Perhaps one to entertain the Fellowship for the next few nights? What of
the tale of Telpë Taurë and the great war there? Yes, it was a good place
to start.
------ Legolas' PoV
Eyes of violet regarded me through the mists of dream. Eyes both wise and
young at once. I knew that I was looking at the agelessness of the elves,
my friends. I knew instinctively that I was gazing into the face of
eternity... And that the eternity would welcome me.
It is so very rare for us to dream that when I awoke I was surprised to
find myself alone. All of my companions had left and I was still at the
camp in Mirkwood. It was strange, because I knew we had agreed that they
would accompany me home since the Orcs had been very active in the last few
weeks. But I was less than a days' ride from home now and had no fear as I
put out their fire and took the remnants of my belongings with me.
Something in the shade of the trees whispered of danger less than an hour
after I had set out. Something in the bushes murmered of orcs. I set aside
my pack, released my horse and sprang to the safety of the nearest tree,
looking for signs of the disquiet I felt. However, their numbers were too
many and I was forced to withdraw.
Skimming through the treetops, it seemed almost too easy to avoid the Orcs.
I watched them from each tree as they milled around below me, unaware of my
presence. It was not long ere I had made it to a place of relative safety,
but something still did not feel right. Alas, it was a trap, for I saw
another group of the detested creatures less than half a mile from the
first. Butchered and in their midst were my companions, dead or dying. The
thoughts of their plans for the fate of my comrades brought anger to me and
I resolved to escape and muster the elves of Mirkwood to bring these orcs
to task.
Again, it seemed that Fate had other plans in store for me, as one of their
number looked up, through the boughs, straight into my eyes. Although he
died of my arrow, his final breath was raised in warning. Their prey had
found them and now their ugly little game of cat and mouse could begin.
Again I fled through the tops of the trees, my footfalls silent as the
whisper of the breeze, but an Orc arrow snatched away my next branch,
whipping it out from under my boot. Falling, I managed to land on my feet,
but more arrows were claiming the spaces I occupied. I was forced to move,
continually trying to evade their heavy, murderous arrows thudding into the
trees around me. However, one grazed past my face, it's sharpened feathers
slicing through the skin of my cheek. Trying to avoid it and the numerous
other arrows, I slipped. Loosing my balance, I fell. You must remember, I
was still very young at the time. Again, Fate had ideas for me. My head
found a rock nestled in the underbrush. Darkness stole all memory except
for astonished gasps from the orcs.
Why they were surprised, I soon found out.
I felt my bow trapped underneath my shoulders, my arrows trapped in my hair
or behind my back, as I awoke. I slowly opened my eyes, the harsh light of
the sun assailing me when I did not expect it. Expecting to find trees
above me, all I could see was the open expanse of the sky. The sun glinted
off a metallic object at the edge of my field of vision. I turned my head
slightly and pain brought me back to full consciousness, only to be staring
down the shaft of a white-fletched arrow. The wielder of the bow muttered
something that sounded vaguely like Quenya, but I did not recognise even
the first word. I struggled to focus on her, the stern voice of my captor
demanding an answer. The problem was I did not know the question.
Another presence to my right begged my attention. I sat up slowly, my
hands supporting me as I realised that my head hurt terribly. I felt the
warmth of a stream of blood trickling down the side of my face, but pushed
the thought to the back of my mind. I could not afford to be distracted by
anything and so I turned.
...And looked straight into the eyes of eternity framed by moonlight.
Silver hair framed a face of such delicacy that she could only be pure
blooded Elven. Her features spoke of the harshness of the winter's fury,
the elves of the mountains. Her fingers caressed a bow, the likes of which
I had never seen before. It looked like carved ivory, wrapped with leather
in the style of the elves of Mirkwood. Upon her back, fletched with white,
rode arrows made of the same ivory-like wood. Resting at her side,
sheathed in a battered leather scabbard, lay a beautifully crafted blade,
the hilt and pommel gleaming gold in the fading light of their day. She
wore armour, bleached to white, but I was stunned to see the word
Envinyatar, 'Renewer', etched in grey-blue on her right shoulder.
But her eyes! They were the stuff that dreams were forged from! They were
violet as amethyst. She gazed at me with both wisdom and kindness. A
soft, swift word to the younger woman who had threatened me and I was no
longer a captive of war... just a captive of eternal beauty. It was that
beauty that stole away my consciousness. I did not wake for three days, or
so I was informed.
----- The Present
"And the rest shall I speak of tomorrow, for you are all tired after the
days' marching." Legolas smiled at the hobbits and his four other
companions, before demurely standing and moving away for the night to let
them sleep. He tilted his face to the sky, vividly remembering those
eyes... almost able to see them in the depths of the inky night. But
another pair of eyes overshadowed them, eyes of such brilliant blue that
made his look grey in comparison. He sighed, remembering fondly all that
had transpired. And he rested.