Super long chapter, but I didn't want to cut up the scene that I had so much fun writing. Hope you like it.
Chapter Four
The following day, Gimli and Legolas were sitting in the sun outside the hall, both tending to their weapons, Legolas repairing several of the fletchings on his arrows, and Gimli sharpening his axe. Legolas still wore his hood, and while they worked, he sang one of the many English songs he had learned from Elizabeth, having been put in mind of them from the night before.
~o~
"You'll remember me when the west wind moves
Upon the fields of barley
You'll forget the sun in his jealous sky
As we walk in fields of gold
~o~
"So she took her love for to gaze awhile
Upon the fields of barley
In his arms she fell as her hair came down
Among the fields of gold
~o~
"Will you stay with me, will you be my love
Among the fields of barley
We'll forget the sun in his jealous sky
As we lie in fields of gold"
~o~
From the far side of the hall, still out of sight came the same rich, sweet voice from the day before, singing the next part of the song. Legolas looked up and smiled as the voice came closer.
~o~
"See the west wind move like a lover so
Upon the fields of barley
Feel her body rise when you kiss her mouth
Among the fields of gold
~o~
"I never made promises lightly
And there have been some that I've broken
But I swear in the days still left
We'll walk in fields of gold"
~o~
The woman came into view walking down the steps, fair and blonde, like many in Edoras, but with bright green eyes and features much lovelier and more like his own folk, even more readily apparent in the bright light of day. Legolas stood to his feet as she fell silent. Her eyes were wide when she stared up at him, and there were tears in her eyes.
"You know Sting's music," she said in amazement, speaking in English. "Do you speak my language?"
He cocked his head at her unusual accent and rhythm of speech with the way she drew out the words, so different to Elizabeth, but nodded with a small smile. He was pleased to finally be face to face with the L.G. Wyche from the book he carried.
"Yes, I do speak English. I have for many years."
The tears in her eyes spilled over and she sprang forward, surprising him further when she wrapped her arms around his neck in an enthusiastic hug. He smiled and gently patted her back, reminded of all of Elizabeth's easy hugs and ready affection, and wondered if it were not something native to English culture to be so demonstrative. When he felt the fine trembling in her limbs, he remembered what he had read of her fears and sorrows and immediately wrapped his arms around her in sympathetic comfort.
When Gimli cleared his throat loudly, she stepped back and wiped her eyes with a small laugh, her gaze still focused on Legolas. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to attack you like that. It's just, I'm so...happy to know I'm not really all alone here."
Thrusting her hand out, she smiled, lighting her whole face with excitement. "Where are my manners? I'm Laurelin Wyche, pleased to meet you."
He took her hand, bowing over it and kissed it. "I am Legolas, and the pleasure is mine."
"What is this strange tongue you two are chattering away in?" Gimli grumbled, squinting up at them.
Laurelin turned to him, looking chagrined and immediately switched back to Common. "Oh. I apologize, Sir Gimli, I didn't mean to be so rude. It's just the first time I've heard my native English since I came to Rohan."
He cleared his throat again, looking embarrassed. "No apologies needed, lass. I was just curious." He glanced up at Legolas. "But I am more interested in how the elf knows your tongue."
Legolas shrugged. "As I have mentioned before, Gimli, my father's wife is from afar. It is from her that I learned to speak it.
Laurelin whipped her head back toward Legolas, and looked more closely at his face. It was a decidedly handsome face, with strong features and very piercing blue eyes, but he didn't look all that much different to other really good looking tall, lanky men she had seen in the past. Besides, being that good looking, he likely had an ego to match, if her past experience was anything to go by. She repressed a sigh at the thought, and the sinking disappointment that he wasn't really like her at all, despite knowing English.
"Then...you're an elf?"
"Take off the hood, Legolas, and show her properly. The girl has never seen an elf before."
Legolas raised a bemused brow at Gimli but reached up and pushed back the hood and lifted his hair free and waited for the inevitable reaction, or overreaction, as he had come to expect from mortal women over his appearance.
Laurelin gave him a brief, cursory glance, with no change in her neutral expression, then turned back to Gimli with a broad smile. "And now I've seen an elf, so I suppose I can cross that off my list of things to do before I die. Can I persuade you to come and share luncheon with me now, Sir Gimli? I saw it is to be roasted pork, which you mentioned was your favorite."
"Oh! That does sound very tempting," Gimli said, gathering his axe and offering his arm to Laurelin, which she readily accepted without a backwards glance. They walked up the steps into the hall, already in conversation, with the dwarf beginning to regale her as to the wonders of the beautiful Lady Galadriel and her realm.
Legolas watched them go with a puzzled frown. That was not at all what he had been expecting from the woman. She had barely glanced at his hair or ears, when so many of her kind seemed incapable of looking away. He sat back down and took up his arrows again with furrowed brows.
But it had been decidedly pleasant to hear English spoken again, which he had not had the pleasure of since leaving home, and he did miss his young sisters quite a lot. Surely there would be no harm in seeking her out later for a private conversation in English. This...Laurelin.
His head raised sharply as he realized why her name had struck a chord when he heard it, his father's words instantly returning to his mind from years earlier, sharp and clear.
When the light of the golden tree shines on you, protect and nurture it, for it shall be precious to you and greatly enrich your life.
He lifted a hand and rubbed his brow, considering if that was what his father meant, and if it could truly refer to this young woman. Laurelin was the name of the Golden Tree of Aman, and the fact that she also came from the same far off place as Elizabeth, and he just happened to be the only one who knew her language seemed too much of a coincidence to ignore. He glanced back up the stairs, his eyes narrowed in consideration.
Well, he thought musingly. Perhaps I might at least determine if she needs protecting or nurturing, and whether Adar's message actually could pertain to this mortal.
He placed the repaired arrows back into his quiver and started humming the same song he had been singing earlier, a small smile on his lips.
After luncheon, Gimli, Laurelin, Aragorn and Gandalf were sitting comfortably together near the fire. All three males were smoking pipes, and Laurelin was drinking some of the ale the Eorlingas brewed and were so fond of. She always watered hers down a good deal, finding it much too strong otherwise. The Rohirrim always laughed at her for it, but she had long since decided she had much rather be made fun of, then to stumble around half drunk all the time. She had always been a definite lightweight when it came to any kind of booze, and living the Viking life hadn't changed that.
Gandalf took a generous swallow from his tankard and wiped the foam from his mustache and beard. "They do make a fine beer here in Edoras. Not quite as rich as what is served in the Shire, but rather close."
Aragorn smiled faintly and blew out a plume of smoke, looking at Laurelin. "It is quite strong. I think Lady Laurelin is wise to water hers to weaken it."
"If I didn't, I would spend most of my time tipsy, with a silly smile on my face. I can't hold my liquor at all."
"It's best to know your limits, lass. No shame in admitting it." Gimli winked, gnawing on the tip of his pipe, and she smiled back, feeling a spreading warmth of affection in her chest and very comfortable with all of them.
A shadow fell across her and she glanced up to see Legolas standing just behind and to one side of her. He smiled down at her, and she froze for a second before she sprang to her feet and looked at Gimli.
"Please excuse me, won't you? I have something I must run and attend to, but I'll see you all a bit later?"
She rushed away without waiting for a reply, and Legolas stared after her in disappointment. He had been looking forward to speaking with her to find out more about how she had come to Edoras, and to converse with another English speaker. Gandalf chuckled and blew a smoke ring, drawing the elf's gaze to him.
"It seems there is one in Edoras who is not so very enamored of you, Greenleaf. That makes for a bit of a change, hmm?"
Legolas sat in the chair so recently vacated and sighed, catching Aragorn's curious gaze before he looked away. He would try again later. Surely she wasn't actually trying to avoid him, that would be ridiculous, she didn't even know him. Somehow, he would find a way to speak with her privately before the end of the day. If she would not seek him out, then he would track her down.
Laurelin did, in fact, manage to evade him several more times throughout the day, always with a hasty excuse of needing to be elsewhere when he approached, leaving no doubt in his mind that she was, indeed, trying to avoid him. And only him, as she had no qualms over spending time with Gandalf, Aragorn or Gimli, but with the dwarf as her preferred companion.
As his frustration grew, he devised a plan for how best to corner her and get to the bottom of how he had managed to put her off so thoroughly after their initial meeting. She had seemed disposed to like him at first, even hugging him eagerly, and she still continued to smile at him and converse with him until… Until he had removed his hood to display his pronounced elven features. That was when her behavior changed, and she had avoided him since. So...something to do with his being an elf.
He well knew from Elizabeth that there were no elves at all where she and Laurelin came from, and that they only existed there in myths and children's stories. Perhaps Laurelin was having difficulty believing he was truly real, and therein lay her discomfort.
Very well, he would just have to change her mind. He would show her she had nothing to fear or dread from an elf. He might even sing her an elvish song. Music seemed to be the language she best communicated with, so he would speak to her through it and set her heart at ease, and perhaps even secure her friendship. Satisfied by his chosen course of action, he settled in to wait for the right moment to catch the woman on her own.
After the evening meal, and when she had finished playing for the king, she went out to walk alone. Legolas followed her from a distance, becoming curious when she wandered some ways from Meduseld, nearly to the wall that enclosed the entire settlement. She walked to where a handful of trees grew clustered together, and leaned against the largest one and wrapped her arms around it tightly.
Legolas smiled, charmed by her apparent appreciation for the tree, when an idea struck him. He walked up silently behind her.
"Laurelin," he whispered, at the same time he laid a hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently when she startled in fright and speaking in English to set her at ease. "Shhh, be still for a moment. Do you know that trees can speak to you if know how to listen?"
She glanced back at him with wide eyes. "But that's….how do you know that?"
He smiled, glad she hadn't turned and fled as soon as she saw it was him. "I'm an elf. We have a great affinity for things that grow, and trees especially." He glanced up at the tree and laid his free hand against it, reaching for its vital essence, when he turned to stare at the woman in surprise.
"This tree knows you, and you know the tree….you speak to it." He tilted his head as he let his hand fall away from the tree, thoroughly captivated. "It is a rare thing for one of your kind to be able to speak with trees. How did you first discover it was possible? I do not think such a thing is common where you come from. Elizabeth, my father's wife, has no such awareness."
She turned to face him, and his hand fell away from her shoulder. Laurelin shrugged and darted a glance up at him before dropping her eyes again. "I'm weird," she said quietly. "I've always been this way. I dream of trees, wear their likenesses." She held up her hand, caressing the small silver ring of twining leaves on one of her fingers. She looked away as a blush darkened her cheeks. "I even have a tattoo on my back. Trees are my spirit sign, or...something." She shook her head. "My brother calls me a tree-hugging hippie. I suppose I am."
Legolas' brow furrowed in puzzlement. "Hippie? I do not know this word."
"Oh, um.." She chuckled and glanced at him again briefly before fixing her gaze on the ground at her feet. "A little hard to explain without the cultural references of the 1960's, but I guess they were people who rejected the accepted values of the time and explored different ways of thought and philosophy for themselves. A kind of a rebel, I guess. Also used to refer to people that love Mother Earth."
He opened his mouth then closed it again, less concerned with her explanation and more by her markedly fearful and reserved behavior. He reached for her chin and tilted her face up so he could look into her eyes, which reminded him of a terrified deer when she finally met his gaze.
"Why have you avoided me, and now look at me with such distress? I swear to you, I would never do anything to harm you. Elves are peaceful by nature. I realize there are none of my people where you hail from, but..."
"No, that's..." she cut him off. "It's not...you didn't do anything, I..." She closed her eyes and drew a shaky breath, then reached up and took his hand from her chin and clasped it tightly between both of her own, looking down at where she rested her fingers across the backs of his knuckles. "It's even worse when I touch you," she said with a frown, then released his hand as though she had been burned. Laurelin walked several paces away, before turning back to face him with a determined set to her raised chin.
"Alright, look, I really don't know how to do subtle, so I'm just gonna lay the truth out here for you, and then if you want to run away screaming, you're welcome to. Does that sound acceptable to you?"
He tilted his head, amused again by her manner of speech as he had been when he read her writing, but concealing his reaction to keep from giving offense. "Of course. Honesty is always best. Please."
She nodded and started twirling the ring on her finger in a nervous, absent-minded way as she gathered her thoughts. "So, this all goes back to when I was just a girl. I already told you I'm an oddity, and I know a lot of people think that of themselves, or that they don't fit in, but I really didn't. I was skinny and scrawny as a kid, and a lot smaller than most other girls my age. I always identified with the ugly duckling." Laurelin looked at him questioningly. "Are you familiar with that story at all?"
Legolas nodded, smiling encouragingly. Elizabeth used to tell the story to his young siblings, and he supposed he could see some correlation, as the duck was actually a beautiful swan. He thought that fitting for the young woman in front of him, as she was rather graceful and elegant in her appearance, much like a swan.
"Right. So, I was the odd duck, completely different to other girls. When puberty arrived, they all sighed and drooled over boys, but not me. Never me," she muttered with a determined shake of her head.
"I thought boys were nasty. When I would see couples kissing, I just thought it looked awkward and uncomfortable, and I didn't ever have any other feelings about it. I could admire a pretty woman or a handsome man, but like you would an inanimate object or a work of art, right? I was completely uninterested in anything resembling physical intimacy, and I was just fine with it. The one time a man tried to kiss me, all I could think about was all the germs on his lips and that he was about to infect me with them, so I ran away."
Legolas crossed his arms as she spoke, able to hear in her voice that she was revealing a great deal of her inner thoughts to him, and that it clearly cost her to do so with a total stranger, as he was to her. He felt a glimmer of respect for her frankness and honesty despite her discomfort.
She stopped pacing and turned to look at him, squaring her shoulders. "Until..." She swallowed visibly and looked away again, the fear returning to her face, making Legolas frown. He walked to her and lifted her chin again, forcing her to meet his eyes.
"Until?" he prompted.
She stared into his eyes for several seconds before her gaze drifted from his eyes down to his mouth, and he felt her desire hit him with the force of a striking arrow, making him draw in a sharp, surprised breath.
"Until you," she whispered, closing her eyes in obvious misery, her cheeks darkening in an embarrassed blush.
He stared at her for a beat before smiling at how she kept her eyes clenched tightly shut. Pulling her closer to him, he stroked a hand across her back in a comforting hug.
"Laurelin, it is perfectly normal to have such feelings, and nothing you need be embarrassed over. You are so young, it is not surprising that you have never experienced desire before now."
"I'm almost thirty years old!" she groused into his chest. "That's not really that young in my neck of the woods."
He rested his chin on her head, stroking a hand through soft strands of her golden hair and repressing a grin at the realization that she fled from him, not because she hated what he was or feared him, but because she was attracted to him and didn't know what to do with such feelings.
The mischievous side of his nature chose that moment to surge forward as he thought he might well show her desire was nothing to run in terror from. He reached for her face and cradled it in both hands to prevent her darting away from him, as she seemed prone to. She examined him suspiciously through narrowed eyes.
"You're laughing at me, aren't you? I can feel it!"
Legolas shook his head with a smile, surprised she was able to sense that from him so easily, then allowed his expression to turn serious. "Laurelin, look at me." She raised her eyes back up to his defiantly, and Legolas felt an unexpected surge of affection for her. "I am not laughing at you, although I will admit I find you rather adorable at this moment."
"Well, damn," she sighed, "that's probably worse."
He resisted giving in to any further humor and focused on her face, tracing her lovely features with his eyes as his voice fell to just above a whisper. "I wish to show you something. Close your eyes now, and relax." He allowed his fingers to drift down from her face to also touch the sides of her neck, while he kept his voice low and soothing.
"Listen to the sound of the wind rustling in the leaves. Feel the rush of blood in your veins and each breath in and out. All of this is natural. Your body is a part of the natural world, at one with the stars in the sky and the trees of the earth."
She closed her eyes and listened to his words, her brows furrowing in concentration. He smoothed a thumb across her brows. "Stop trying to think about it. Just feel. Whatever your feelings are in this moment, accept them." He leaned down, letting her feel his breath fan across her face while he touched his nose against the side of hers.
"Embrace them." He pushed a lock of hair behind her ear, caressing the edge of her round ear, and she gasped as a shiver ran through her body, her lips parting and drawing his gaze there.
"Welcome them," he whispered, then pressed his lips to hers lightly, waiting to see what her reaction would be before he decided whether or not to go any further.
When she immediately lifted her head to deepen the kiss, he let that guide him, catching her bottom lip between both of his, and ran his tongue along the seam of her mouth, coaxing her to open for him, which she did with a quiet sigh and wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning into him fully, her soft, feminine curves moulding flush against him.
Legolas teased her tongue, tasting her and brushing against it with his own, stifling his own low moan of enjoyment to keep from startling her. Wrapping her fully in his arms, he pulled her tighter against him, long, sweet moments slipping past until he realized he had quite managed to lose himself in the surprisingly affecting kiss, just as much as Laurelin had.
He lifted his head and she opened dazed eyes to stare up at him. He noted she had a ring of gold around her pupils in the larger ring of green, and the gold caught and reflected the starlight, just as the rich color of her hair did.
"Glóriel adaneth," he murmured in Sindarin, running a finger through her wavy hair that hung down beside her face.
"What?" Her eyes were still soft and she remained pliant and docile in his arms, when he moved the same hand back to slowly stroke her cheek.
"It means golden woman. Your hair and eyes shine brightly under the light of the stars. It's quite lovely."
She smiled and stared unflinchingly up into his eyes, seemingly at ease, with her gaze full of interest and humor. "When you said you wanted to show me something, oh boy, you weren't kidding! If this is how elves make friends, then I think I can safely say I support it."
He smiled, just managing to keep it from turning it into a smirk. "Perhaps this is not the usual way elves make friends, but I felt very strongly I should make an exception in your case. At any rate, since you not only accepted my kiss, but also returned it, you are now bound to me irrevocably as mellon nín, for life."
She gaped at him, then narrowed her eyes. "You're pulling my leg, aren't you?"
Legolas grinned. "I assume you do not mean that literally, so it must be an expression, that means…?"
"It means you're teasing. Joking. Trying to trick me. You are, right? I didn't just commit to something serious, like marriage, with my first and only kiss, did I? Because if I did, I'm afraid we're going to have to pursue a medieval divorce. I don't kiss and marry on the first date, or...starlight stroll, whatever. My mama raised me to be a lady, not some dime-store floozy, tramp that gives it up to the first handsome elf she meets."
He released her with a chuckle and stepped back. "I am teasing you, mostly, although the mellon nín for life part is true. And I'm not sure I understand half of what you just said. I thought you spoke English, but now I am not so certain. What is medieval divorce? And I have never heard of a dime-store floozy tramp either, although I take it that would be an insult."
Laurelin crossed her arms and smirked. "A divorce is what you get to legally dissolve a marriage, although in our case we would just need an annulment since we didn't do anything remotely resembling sex, so we aren't actually married. You already figured out the floozy tramp part, it's a woman of loose morals who sleeps around, and I guess those kinds of women could be found working at dime-stores, but I'm not really sure." She shrugged. "And I do speak English, but it's the American South version. Where did you say your daddy's wife came from?"
He sat down on the soft grass and leaned back, propping himself up with one bent arm."Elizabeth is from England. Then am I to understand that sexual relations create marriage for your people, as well? I thought it was by spoken vows alone."
She sat down beside him, carefully arranging her skirt. "Well, yes, vows do make marriage, but unless it's consummated, I reckon it's not really marriage. Or that's what I was taught, anyway."
"But marriage is for life and irreversible. Why would your people have an established method to dissolve it?"
She laid down, facing him, and rested her head against her palm. "Alright, well imagine this scenario. You go out for an evening on the town, drink too much and get falling-down drunk. Then, you wake up married to someone you don't remember marrying. A complete stranger you had sex with, but otherwise don't know. Wouldn't you want to be able to undo that mistake?"
He shook his head. "If a person were foolish enough to get themselves into that situation, they should be made to live with the consequences of their actions, even if it means a marriage they would not have chosen with a clear mind. To do otherwise would be dishonorable, particularly in light of joining bodies, as you specified."
Laurelin rolled her eyes. "You're kind of a hard-ass, huh?"
He raised an amused brow and made a show of reaching back to feel his derrière, making her snicker. She had already taken note of his obviously firm posterior, so she supposed the hard-ass label worked in a complimentary way too.
"It means you're tough," she clarified. "Uncompromising. You see the world in all black and white, and don't make allowances for shades of gray."
"Gray is just white that's been polluted by black." His expression lost all of its teasing look before it turned brooding, and he looked away. "I stand against the dark that would taint purity. Like my home, poisoned by foul creatures and orcs in a struggle that has gone on for centuries." He looked back to her and met her eyes. "I fight to defend gentle ladies like you, and to make this world safe for my sisters and brothers, and all the noble folk of Middle-earth. If the dark one has his way, we will all fall under his power, but that cannot be allowed to stand."
She wet her lips, her own face reflecting the sober nature of her thoughts. "You're talking about whatever that pressing feeling of doom is?" He nodded and she looked down, then sat up and folded her legs to one side. She met and held his gaze. "But what is it?"
Legolas also sat up, mirroring her position. "A dark lord. I will not speak his name aloud. Names have power, and I would not wish any agents of the enemy to be drawn to you."
Laurelin cleared her throat and leaned closer to him. "A dark lord, huh? Wait, wait, don't tell me, let me guess. He wants to take over the whole world and make us all his slaves?"
He raised a brow at her decidedly flippant tone. "You are correct. He wishes to expand his power and dominate all life."
Her lids swept down, hiding her eyes while she stared at her hands, clasped tightly in her lap. "I'm not in my...my world anymore, am I? Orcs..." she shook her head. "We don't have those. Or elves. Only in fantasy."
His heart went out to her, so very young and alone, and so afraid of the unknown threat all around her, but he could not tell her a falsehood. "No, Laurelin, you aren't there anymore, I'm sorry."
She looked up at him again, her eyes full of tears she tried to blink away. "Do you think I'll ever be able to get back to my home again?"
He did not even know how she had gotten there, but from Elizabeth's tale of her journey and how difficult it had been for her to even find a way to Middle-earth, he thought it very unlikely. He reached out and laid his hand against her cheek.
"No, child, I think you are here to stay." Laurelin nodded as the tears overflowed, and Legolas rubbed his thumb beneath her eye, catching some of them.
"I know," she said in a wavering voice, thick with grief. "I've really known for a long time, it's just… I hoped."
He pulled her to him, pressing her head against his chest and sliding his arms around her as he would to comfort one of his sisters, gently sliding his fingers through her hair again while she wept.
"Facing the truth does not mean giving up your hope. You can make a new home here. I know my family would welcome you to Greenwood, and you would love it there. Trees as far as the eye can see." She chuckled and he smiled at the sound. "Elizabeth will likely adopt you as one of her own, and my sisters would adore you. Skilled musicians and singers are greatly prized in elven realms."
She pulled away, wiping at her nose and eyes and sniffling. "But you barely know me. Why would you go out of your way? I'm not your problem, and I know you have important things you have to do with your companions."
"I will help you because you need it," he said firmly. "I am easily able to assist you, and it is right for me to do so. I do have obligations that must come first, as you say, but once they are met..."
She squared her shoulders and brushed away the last of her tears. "That's alright. Don't trouble yourself, I'll manage somehow. I have for the past two years. Éomer has always been good to me, and with Gríma gone and King Théoden recovered, maybe it won't be as bad as it was."
He shook his head, leaning closer to catch her eyes with his. "Nothing is certain until the enemy is defeated, and though I cannot explain fully now, I believe you belong in Greenwood. The longer we converse, the more convinced I am of it. My entire family speaks English, all eight of my brothers and sisters, as well as Elizabeth and my father, and one or two others besides."
Her mouth fell open in shock. "Did you say you have eight brothers and sisters? Are elves like… I mean, don't you have any hobbies?"
He laughed softly and shook his head. "Generally, elves have much smaller families, as immortals don't feel any pressing need to replace themselves like mortals do. But Elizabeth has always had a great thirst for children. Nearly unquenchable, for a time."
Laurelin looked at him askance with furrowed brows. "What on earth are you talking about...mortals and immortals?" She paled and stared at his mouth. "I hope you're not going to suddenly bite my neck."
Legolas pursed his lips. "Why do you think I would bite your neck?"
"Vampire?" she squeaked.
He gave her a narrow-eyed look that made her blush. "We don't have such things here, Laurelin, and if you have them in your land, I am truly sorry for your people."
"We don't really, just in stories and popular entertainment," she admitted with a shrug. "But you don't exist there either, so who knows what's real and what isn't around here. Now, will you explain what you meant about immortals and mortals? Call me crazy, but I thought everyone was mortal."
He stood and extended a hand and helped her up, and they wandered back to the trees, Legolas leaning against one, and Laurelin on another, facing him. He explained about the origin of the elves, and of mankind and dwarves, and their different life expectancies, even briefly mentioning wizards like Gandalf, and their origins.
Laurelin rubbed the knuckle from her first finger slowly across her bottom lip while she processed what he was telling her. "So there are normal men like the Rohirrim, that live about as long as people where I was born, but then there are special men like Aragorn. How old did you say he was?"
"He is eighty-seven."
She shook her head in amazement. "Damn, he looks really great for a senior citizen." She chewed her bottom lip and asked the question she was most curious about. "And how old are you?"
Legolas smirked and crossed his arms. "Are you certain you really care to know the answer?"
She wrinkled her nose. "You're darn tootin'!" At his puzzled look, she giggled. "That means yes."
"Ah. I see I have a ways to go before I fully learn your version of English. My current age is two thousand, nine hundred and thirty-one years."
Laurelin blinked and let that slowly sink in before something else occurred to her. "Okay, so you're really old, and your daddy is obviously much older, but he married someone from my world. So...won't he be awful sad when she dies in a few decades, or whenever?"
"That would be true if Elizabeth were a mortal, but she had become an immortal long before she ever came to Greenwood. My father would not have married her otherwise, as mortals and immortals rarely intermarry, for the grief it inevitably brings when the mortal party dies at the end of their brief life span."
She ran an absent hand against the bark of the tree she leaned against. "Yeah, I can see how that would suck. But, wait...won't you have to watch all your friends die too? Aragorn and Gimli, and...anyone else?" She stopped before she added herself to the list, as that would be ridiculously presumptuous and imply that he would actually care what happened to her, but she saw on his face that he knew she had been thinking it.
His blue eyes filled with torment and grief before he looked away. "Yes, you are correct. I will have to suffer the pain of those losses. But it is the price for loving mortals, and I am willing to pay it when I must."
Her eyes filled with sympathetic tears when she thought of it from his point of view, and all his future sorrow, as one after another of his friends aged and died. "You're kind and brave, Legolas. I'm not convinced I would want to do that if I were in your place." She ran a hand through her hair and sighed. "Are you sure you don't want to throw me back in the water? You already have several big fish in your bucket, and I'm just a minnow. No need to add to your burden with such a puny, little fish."
His eyes softened and a slight smile curled his lips. "Your speech is very colorful, but no, I would not willingly give you up now, mellon nin. I believe you need me, and I find I am already attached. Such is the way for elves when a connection is felt."
Laurelin looked up at the stars and nodded. She already felt quite attached, herself, which was really surprising in its speed. Aragorn and Gandalf were both caring and seemed genuinely concerned for her well-being, and Gimli she already loved like a best buddy. She looked back at Legolas and found him watching her intently and forced out the question that had been simmering on the back burner in her mind the whole time they had been talking.
"Why did you kiss me? You must have had an actual reason. That's not a casual thing to do, not here in a place like this."
He knew she was going to ask him, he had been waiting for her to work up her courage, and was satisfied that she finally had before they were forced to retire for the evening.
"Mostly, I kissed you because you feared it, and the best way to conquer fear is to face it, head on."
Pursing her lips, she nodded. "Very generous of you to go out of your way just to help me over my fear. Are you always this self-sacrificing, or do you ever do anything just because you want to?"
The same slight smile lifted his lips as before, but there was an intensity in his blue eyes when he looked at her then, that she had not seen from him before. She shivered in the realization that a three thousand year old man was staring at her out of those eyes.
"I did say mostly. I am not as noble as all that, Laurelin. If I did not wish to kiss you, then I would not have. You are a beautiful, intelligent woman, and far different to other mortal women I have known. There is such an awareness, an understanding and knowledge in your eyes, that it is easy for me to forget you are not one of my own people. Were you not a mortal woman, perhaps..."
He closed his eyes and sighed, stopping himself before he said too much, then opened them and looked at her again, the heavy weight of sadness apparent in his gaze. "I may be cursed to always be drawn to what I cannot have, or so it seems."
"That definitely sounds like the opening of a story, to me."
He leaned his head back against the tree. "Yes. Perhaps one day I will tell you."
Hearing the finality in his words, she knew he was warning her away from more personal questions and took the hint, returning instead to a previous point of curiosity. She walked across to him and held her hand out. He gave her a puzzled look, but took her hand as she seemed to want him to and watched her frown down at their joined hands. She placed his hand against her neck, then lifted it to her cheek, then finally clasped it between both of her hands before she released him with a satisfied smile.
"I thought that was what I felt, but I was so distracted when you were kissing me, I had to be sure."
"Of what?" he asked, hiding a smile at her matter-of-fact confession at how he had affected her.
"I don't know, your elf magnetism and electricity, or something." She smirked. "Everywhere your skin touches mine, I tingle. Like a static shock, but weaker and actually pleasant. I never felt anything like that before."
Legolas tilted his head, intrigued. "Give me your hand." She did and he repeated her experiment, but putting her hand on his skin instead, then laughing. "I feel it too. It's like a hum or a vibration when you touch me."
She chewed the inside of her cheek, as she considered the possibilities. "I wonder if it's just hands, or if other body parts would react the same way. I bet naked touch, like for sex would be weird, like having built in vibrators everywhere. Not that I know anything at all as to what sex is like, beyond theory. I wonder what could cause it?"
Laurelin raised her brows and looked at Legolas, who was watching her with a face blank of all expression, and she nearly slapped herself when she realized what she had said.
"Sorry, I was just thinking out loud. I wasn't really planning to try and jump your bones, so you don't have to worry." When he opened his mouth to ask her what it meant, she beat him to the punch. "To jump someone's bones means to try to have sex with them. It's slang, just a little bit nicer than saying you want to fuck, which is a completely crass and vulgar way to put it."
"Ah," he said with a look of understanding. "I am familiar with fuck. One of Elizabeth's favorite English curse words, in fact."
"Really?" Laurelin grinned. "Then I think I just might get along with your stepmom, after all, if she's not too prim to let loose with a good cuss word once in a while."
Legolas chuckled and held his arm out to Laurelin. "Shall we retire, my lady? The hour grows quite late, and I'm sure you need your rest."
She glanced back at the trees and sighed, resting her hand around his arm as they walked back toward the hall. "I would really rather sleep out here, and talk with you all night, but I suppose I better conform or tongues will wag."
"I am quite relieved you are comfortable in my presence now, and will no longer flee at the sight of me. There is so much I would enjoy discussing with you. Oh, and I have been trying to return this to you as well." He pulled the little book from under his tunic and presented it to her.
She took it with a look of relief, then narrowed her eyes at him. "You didn't actually read my journal, did you?"
He shrugged. "Yes, a little. I was surprised to see such a book in Rohan, and when I discovered it was in English, I tried to determine who it belonged to." He tapped the cover. "I thought it would be in elvish when I saw it, those designs are very similar to the ones from my home."
Laurelin stifled a yawn. "If it's similar to your people's art designs, then I reckon I would really like elvish things."
Legolas saw her to the door of her room, with a promise to sing her some of his people's songs the following day. After she locked her door and got ready for bed, she fell to sleep quickly and slept more soundly than she had in all the time she had lived in Edoras, with no nightmares to plague her.
Lyrics from Fields Of Gold by Sting
~o~
