Author's Note: In this chapter is revealed what happened to Legolas' mother. I know it differs from what was told in the Hobbit movies, but I had planned this story way before those movies were even made. The first mentions of Sulrochil in my files date back to 2010.
Then I forgot all this for many years.
After watching the Hobbit movies in 2016, I knew I needed to finish this story. I obviously have changed a lot since that first draft, but his mother's destiny is something I'm not willing to let go.
Merry Christmas! Hyvää joulua!
The meeting was over.
Darkness had fallen upon them.
The wooden door splintered, as demons came through. A smash by smash, they tore the door apart and invaded the little sanctuary of the elves. Both tried to reach their arrows, only to find out that their hands were tied.
Their fate was doomed. All the time, more dark creatures raided their world, plundering everything - and there was nothing the elves could do - bleak laughter behind every corner; dance over the remnants of their trust in fairness.
"Legolas," Sulrochil said, took a deep breath and placed her palm on his chest. Warm sunlight through a window of the Town Hall caressed her face. The warmth did not reach her core, though. Instead, they were still floating in the dark cave without hope. "You do not want me to do this mission. We can go back and cancel it."
With love, they had been blessed, only wishing for a few quiet moments to cherish it, to make it grow.
"We cannot cancel it," he said, pressing both his palms against the door and leaning his forehead against it. "We both knew when we came here, whatever Mithrandir wanted from us would not be easy. Your duty is to go; my duty is to let you go."
For peace, they had called, and a devil had answered.
As his shoulders stiffened, Sulrochil slipped between him and the door. Gently pushing her head against his cheek, she forced him to look at her. Her love boiled, trying to wipe all of the ghosts away. "But this was not on your list of all the possible outcomes."
"No," he admitted, looking deeply into her eyes, but still keeping his hands against the door. "I hate this. I hate that our world has gone mad and we must do nigh on impossible things. I hate that I must let you go there, but if you do not do it, no one else does. If I consider only your skills and forget my feelings, I know you can do it. I would not let you go there if I did not believe you could do it, but it does not change the fact that I hate this."
"I know, but there is one thing I do not understand. Or two," Sulrochil said, playfully trying to change the mood and yank him out of his grim thoughts. She lifted her hand on his neck and unsuccessfully tried to pull him closer. "Actually there are many things I do not comprehend, but can you tell me why Mithrandir gave up so easily when we said I should go only to observe the mountain slope and around Shadowland?"
"He had no choice," Legolas said and slid his hands on her shoulders and slightly yielded to her pull.
"It was also strange what he replied to the man who feared I could get caught." Sulrochil curled her arms around Legolas and squeezed him.
"Well," he said, and a solid understanding of their bodies close to one another made a slight beam of enjoyment begin peeking through a crack in the cave of their souls, "that was the truth: you can handle orcs by yourself."
"Aye," she said, pursing her lips, "but he said 'she can handle a group of orcs by herself'. Everyone knows there are no small groups in any orc base, but massive armies swarming everywhere."
"They have small groups guarding their borders!" He whacked the door on both sides of her head. "You would have no problems with a bunch like that!"
Legolas buried his head in Sulrochil's hair and whispered, "I cannot believe he said you should go parading into Shadowland when he wanted exactly what we just agreed."
"He knew how you would react, and he just played with your feelings!" she said and tried to sneak away under his arms. "I will go and tell him he just went too far!"
"Let him be," he squished her against the door and searched for her lips. "Can you drop this matter? Tomorrow comes too soon, and I would rather spend the short time we have with you."
In silence, they stood, embracing each other. The memories of their sacred ceremony diminished into a tiny cone and carefully they placed it in a safe place inside their souls. The only thing that kept them going forward was the awareness of their everlasting union. Two pairs of lips found each other and the tiny movements of the lips sliding against each other were left as breadcrumbs to their treasure.
In time they could return and reopen it. Now, all they had was a sharp rock, slitting their palms.
The few carefree, joyous moments full of love they had earlier today, already felt almost like a dream. The real world was looming above them. In the real world, evil still exists, and the darkness is not banished.
In the real world you could die - or worse, your loved ones could die - and you would be left to dig their graves, to throw sand on their faces, to kneel before the inevitable. To cry, if you had any tears left.
Tears welled out of Sulrochil's eyes as taunting sneers echoed in the darkness. All anguish melted into one; no longer was there separate pain.
"You should not be forced to cry today," he said, agony suffusing his voice. Slowly, he caressed her cheek. "Today, you should only have to feel loved. I would take it all away if I could."
"I know you would."
"I would like to give you a day when there are no longer any reasons for crying."
"At least we had a short while when I did not bawl until your chest was wet." Sulrochil lifted her head and grinned.
"What a day of bonding," Legolas also forced himself to smile.
Nevertheless, tomorrow was far away - and they still had every moment of this day to themselves.
Not a moment was to be wasted.
"Aye, what a day," she said and slid her thumb on his chest under the leather strap of his quiver. "I feel you have calmed down a bit. Would you like to go to the archery track we saw earlier? You usually settle down with shooting."
"Nothing can settle this anguish."
"I promise you will feel at least a little better when we go there," she said and began walking down the corridor, taking his hand.
"Alright, we need to get out of town anyway," Legolas said, letting her pull him along.
The sun was shining high in the sky - and it was strange. Inside the building, it had felt so dark like there was never going to be daylight again.
A lovely meadow surrounded the archery track. There were two targets, and close to the shooting point; a horse-hitching post. Sulrochil jumped to sit on the pole and noticed the meadow was bordered by adorable hills full of green. Its beauty made her smile.
Legolas took the track closer to her and reached for one of his arrows. It was not one of his own but some of the mitch-matched collection someone had thrust at him after the Battle of Lake-town. "Never mind," he thought. "If it is an arrow, I will shoot it," he remembered her saying and it warmed his core. He looked at her sitting on the pole, swinging her legs and looking back at him keenly - and his love for her surged through his veins.
Legolas turned his focus from Sulrochil to the target and shot the first arrow. Her gaze made him feel acutely aware of what he was doing. Soon, he felt the usual flow of shooting and forgot everything else for a while. He did not hurry, but looked at every arrow he had. They were all different; probably, they were all from different elves.
Were they from the elves who had died yesterday?
Suddenly he felt Sulrochil's sadness when she also had realized when Legolas had received those arrows. "Why does she have to suffer? Why does she always have to suffer?" he thought. Her consolation flowed in their souls like a bubbling brook. It was as if she was saying "please, do not worry about me."
The astonishing realization that their conversations through their bond grew more intricate by the moment filled him with joy. When Legolas looked at Sulrochil's eyes, he wanted to reveal all the secrets she had gathered deep within.
He shot all the remaining arrows rapidly. Taking a few strides, he was in front of Sulrochil. When she sat on the pole, her head was above his. However, standing close to her, he could reach her arrows and tuck them into his quiver. With a wry smile, he went shooting those. He knew if he had stayed near her a moment longer, it would have been impossible not to kiss her, but she was right, shooting did calm him.
This time he shot all the arrows quickly and walked to fetch them. They all were such an odd collection of different arrows he did not know which was supposed to be his and which were hers. No point trying to distinguish them so he divided them into two equal bunches.
"Do you wish to continue?" Sulrochil asked when he walked back with the arrows.
"No," he replied and tucked one bunch to his quiver, but when he tried to give her the other bunch, she began removing her quiver. He asked puzzled, "Are you not going to shoot?"
"I will shoot," she said and removed her cloak and threw it hanging onto the pole. "But the cloak prevents me from doing it as I wish."
Legolas watched as she attached her quiver again and stepped close to him, snatching the bunch of arrows from his hand. Never had her cloak stopped her from performing perfect archery. He glanced at the idle garment, wondering what she was up to.
Taking her position at the end of the track, Sulrochil began shooting much more slowly than usual. It did not take long for Legolas to realize the reason for that.
It was on purpose for him to watch. And he did watch. This was the first time he was able to watch her like this.
When she reached an arrow from her quiver, nocked it onto the bow, drew and released it, was elegant, he had seen it thousands of times, but what he had never looked was how tightly her clothes stretched on her body.
She drew the bow, and time stopped. His eyes opened to see the landscape in front of him - a scenery never before seen by him.
Holding her position firmly, she released the arrow. Only her fingers moved, but the movement of her fingers was not what he saw. Not because it happened too far, but because something else was the sole center of his attention. Slowly, she reached another arrow to shoot more, and his heart flushed hot.
It was an earthquake as his mind adjusted to take in what he now saw.
It took his breath away when he realized these delicate and attractive features were meant to be watched by him - and only him. And when it hit him, she is doing this intentionally, he swallowed not even trying anymore to look anywhere else.
When Sulrochil had shot all her arrows, she went and took all of Legolas' arrows from his quiver smiling curiously. He wondered what kind of expression must be on his face, but whatever it was, it did seem not to bother her when she began shooting again. He saw only her and did not even glance at the target. No point, when her arrows always hit precisely where she wants them to - and besides, there were better things to look at.
A scenery he would never tire of watching.
Suddenly, Sulrochil stopped shooting, and it took a moment for Legolas to realize she had run out of arrows. She came closer and put her hands on his waist.
"You knew it," he said before pulling her into a kiss.
"I knew your eyes would no longer be blind to see all there is for you to see today. I wanted to give you that," Sulrochil replied. "And I wanted to feel your gaze on my body."
"How did it feel?" he whispered.
"You feel it all, so why do you ask?" Sulrochil asked, and at once understood his wordless answer. He wanted to hear it from her.
"When you watched me," she said, all the time feeling how he wished to hear her words, to assure him of everything he already knew, "I felt your gaze on my body almost like the softest touch of your hands. At the same time, I felt how you marveled at the view. When your eyes plunged into me, you were absolutely stunned."
Sulrochil paused for a moment and continued whispering, "Do you want to hear when I realized I watched you for the first time?"
"Do you need to ask?"
"It was in Lothlorien when we had talked a long while in the forest. When you turned around and walked away, all I saw was how your arms were swinging. You have a unique way of holding your arms when you walk, and it is quite attractive." Sulrochil hid her face into Legolas' chest and whispered, "Everything about you is."
"I wish…" Legolas began and, when he paused his sentence abruptly, Sulrochil felt his pain like someone was pulling all her limbs forcefully in all directions and the feeling of breaking apart almost crushed her.
"Legolas, please forgive me I could not believe already then what we had, and I caused us so much agony."
"I feel it again. Even though you are here, I feel the agony of your death."
For a split second they both felt the weight of Sulrochil's dead body in Legolas' arms, heard the sickening sound of an arrow leaving her flesh when he pulled it away and felt warm streams of tears on their faces as the tiny body in his arms got colder, freezing his hands and numbing both of their hearts.
The feeling of unending aloneness for all eternity filled their souls with excruciating pain as their vision was filled with green linden leaves floating in the wind before settling on the lifeless body lying in the bottom of a sandy grave.
"I feel your wounds," Sulrochil whispered. "It seemed they had begun to heal, but now they bleed again. I feel the blood flowing - like they were deep, painful gashes on my skin, but they do not bleed out of me, but deeper into me making my soul drown in a sea of blood. I do not know what I can do. Is there anything I can do?"
The torment raged inside Legolas' soul. The only thing Sulrochil could do was to press her face more tightly against his chest, draping her arms around him. Her love was an ointment pouring on his wounds. The bleeding began slowly to stop, the spike of pain ebbed, leaving only a dull throbbing ache. Like the softest bandages, her love wrapped over his wounds and she enclosed him with the smooth brush of her devotion.
The trees around them swayed slightly in the wind trying to comfort the elves - they wailed as they did not wish this kind of agony ever for any kind spirit of a wood elf. Reaching their branches, the trees wanted to give shelter, to provide consolation for the tormented elves, to heal their souls.
When the worst of the pain eased, Legolas felt her love like a small cabin on a tree. It was warm inside regardless of a heavy snowstorm outside. In the safety of their little wooden home, they lay snugly together in a heavenly soft bed, listening to the thundering noise of the blizzard.
Their breathing took the same rhythm, and for a long time, they let the vision of home fill their minds. The love breezed softly in their souls, and they locked the tempest out of their safe haven. Little by little, they felt the pain easing, their heartbeats steadying and the vision dissipating - and they were again standing by a small archery track near Lake-town.
"There are so many deep wounds in you," Sulrochil whispered.
"After you go tomorrow, we both will get hurt again," he replied, avoiding the issue.
"I wish this would end," she said.
Not being able to reply with words Legolas kissed her, and the shared pain for the looming separation made them only hold each other close, trying to settle the feeling into something they could try to deal with.
"Sultithen, I want to give you a gift," Legolas abruptly said after a while. He put his hand under his jerkin and fished something from there.
"What kind of a gift it is?" she replied. She felt his seriousness and the importance of this, but she had no idea what the gift would be.
"Open up your hand," he said solemnly.
She did as he asked and he put a golden ring on her palm. "It is beautiful," she whispered, and took the ring between her thumb and forefinger. It was carved with three small curvy shapes. "Where did you get it?"
"It belonged to my mother."
"How can I take it, if it was hers?" she inhaled rapidly, pushing the ring towards his chest.
"I want you to have it," he took the ring from her hand and looked at it as carefully as she just had done. "She got this ring from my father after I was born. She died when I was six years old, and I do not remember much about her, but I remember her love. Now I have your love, so this belongs to you." He gave the ring again to Sulrochil.
"I…," she said looking between the ring and him alternately. "You…," she tried to say something, but there were no words for it.
She could not begin to understand that he had given her his mother's ring. He rarely had even mentioned her.
Of course, Sulrochil knew the story of Queen Glaneth; how she had protected young Legolas. They had been walking in a forest when the orcs attacked. There had been several guards around them, but they all had been killed. Glaneth had told her child to climb a tall maple. She had shot the orcs until she ran out of the arrows. After that, she had killed several with her knife. The King had naturally felt his wife's anguish and left at once to help her with a large group of soldiers. Alas, too late for Glaneth they had arrived.
The child was found safe up on the tree.
"I was afraid," Legolas said, leaning his head on her hair. He had felt what Sulrochil had been thinking.
"Of course you were."
"'Legolassion, climb a tree!' mother shouted to me, 'Do not come down until father or I come to get you!' I heard noises I did not understand. I wanted to help her, but there was nothing I could do. Then I heard my father's voice, he was shouting commands to the soldiers, and for a short moment I thought everything must be fine when he has arrived." (-ion=son)
Legolas paused, and Sulrochil felt his sorrow like a deep dark abyss in which it was not possible to breathe.
"Father cried," Legolas continued. "He must have thought no one heard him. The soldiers came closer. He stopped crying and was suddenly like ice."
Legolas paused again, and an enormous glacier on a mountain top froze everything. The chilling wind howled above the mountains.
"I heard father shouting my name, but I could not move, nor speak. They tried to track me, but all marks on the ground were muddled. They only searched until someone found me. They never let me see her. I do not know exactly how she was killed."
"It is better you do not know."
"I understand why they did not let the six-year-old me see her, but now I would like to know."
"Legolas," she said, gently touching his cheek. "Somehow, you will always be the six-year-old child when you think about your mother."
Sulrochil felt his mixed feelings which seemed to tear him into a million pieces, and she felt his sorrow. Although it was thousands of years old, it was as fresh as if it had just happened. She did not say anything aloud, only comforted him through their bond. He inhaled deeply when her love flooded like in the rapids of the Forest River.
"Thank you, Legolas. You have carried this ring always with you," she said, sliding her knuckles on his chest, "from now on it will always be with me."
He nodded.
"I want to wear it today," she said and looked at the ring. "Then I must hide it in my pocket, but I hope there will be a day when I can wear it again."
"May I put it on your finger?"
Sulrochil gave the ring back to Legolas. He solemnly took her hand and held the ring in the other.
"Sultithen, I have many times during the past two millennia tried to think about this moment when I would give the ring to the person I love, to you. It was easy to guess you would be my dear friend. I knew I would enjoy your company, and you would make me feel things I could not even imagine back then. It was always easy to guess you would be beautiful and magnificent and all the glorious things you are, but it never occurred to me how much I would need you.
"You said I am like a forest. If I am the forest, you are the air that makes the forest breathe. You are the sun that makes it thrive, the water it needs to grow, everything it needs. I never knew I would be so dependent on you, and to suddenly crave your closeness, your attention, your love, is overwhelming. To be desperate for you humbles me."
He slid the ring to her ring finger, and for a moment it felt like the sun shone brighter, went darker until finally it resumed its usual brightness. Two elves smiled for each other, letting their love seep slowly deeper into their beings.
The ring looked like it had reached its destination.
Watching in turn the smiling face of Sulrochil and the shining ring on her finger Legolas realized what Mithrandir had meant at the meeting. Now he knew what should be done to ensure Sulrochil's safety and her power to concentrate on her task.
The wizard would not do it, but the deed would be done by Legolas.
Watching her hair flow in the hair, Legolas knew what he would have to do to ensure her safety when she would leave tomorrow for her mission into a place where no one else was willing to go.
It would not be easy, but there was nothing he would not do for her.
"How about going back to Lake-town so everybody else does not think we ran away," Legolas said after a while, hoping she would not guess what he had been thinking.
"I suppose we should go back, but we must fetch the arrows first. And I know you have not even looked at the target, your eyes were glued on me while I was shooting earlier," she nodded at the direction of the target.
There was a formation of elvish letters L and S. She had shot the arrows in a way the smaller loop of S was inside the bigger loop of L.
"You got me," he said and turned to look at Sulrochil.
"Please, do not worry," she said and gently touched his cheek, "I wanted you to watch."
"Tomorrow, I can only watch you leave," he thought, closed his eyes, letting his soul sweep every corner of hers. His lips brushed her ear as he leaned to whisper, "I have to watch you go to a place we know nothing about without anyone by your side."
"I will not be alone," she whispered, nuzzling her nose against his neck. "You will be there with me in my heart."
His smile was full of sorrow. "The formation of the arrows is beautiful. I like it," he whispered, staring right into her eyes. He blinked, forcing himself not to grieve while she was still with him.
She felt his attempt to change their feelings towards happier and replied a tad too brightly, "How about we grab the arrows and get back to Lake-town before dark? If I recall correctly, we have something to tell your father."
Both tucked the arrows into their quivers and began slowly walking back to the town, planning Sulrochil's mission while they walked. Even though neither of them wanted to think about tomorrow, they had to plan every detail together, so that both were ensured that all things had been taken into consideration.
All things except what Legolas would have to do.
Sulrochil had not realized it, and he had no intention to tell her about it. It would be better if she did not realize it herself at all, because should she know it, she would refuse to leave at all.
If their amble back to Lake-town took a long time, it had naturally nothing to do with the pressing need to kiss once or twice. They decided to forget tomorrow and live this night exactly like they should when they just this morning received the greatest gift two elves could get.
The Market Place was swarming with curious people of Lake-town. Everyone tried to look like they had important matters to do, but in fact, they all were only interested in why Elvenking had entered their town today and gaping at the odd sight of elves in their hometown.
In the front of The Guesthouse of Lake-town Mayor stood four guards of King Thranduil. A bunch of ragged little boys were running past them, competing to see who dared to dash closest to the grim guards with swords longer than the boys themselves.
When the guards noticed Legolas and Sulrochil, they moved to the side so smoothly it looked for the boys as if the elves could slide without moving their feet at all.
Inside the building, an elderly woman curtsied for the odd sight of two elves in the hall - and showed them the way to their room. After the servant, the elves climbed a wide stairway upstairs. The woman strode briskly towards a door, opened it and bowed very nervously to the Prince and his betrothed, as she was not quite sure how to act appropriately in a situation like this. Many kinds of guests she had served before, but never any elves - not to mention royal ones.
"Thank you…?" Legolas said with a questioning look
"Pleinda, my Lord," the woman replied, curtsying again before recalling the elves preferred bowing and trying to change her curtsy into a bow - but ended up swaying oddly.
"Thank you, Pleinda," Legolas said, smiling, and looked at Sulrochil who was peeking past him into the spacious room with a magnificent lake view. "The room is wonderful."
Sulrochil stepped into the room, letting her gaze scan the whole interior with flowery tapestries on the wall, and a fireplace made of stone. There was a huge four-poster bed, a big table with four chairs and many cupboards, all the furniture made of dark wood with exquisite carvings.
"My Lord," Pleinda said more at ease looking curiously at the elf lady who seemed to marvel at the beauty of the room innocently like a child. "The King said he is waiting for you downstairs in the dining hall. Would you need anything else?"
When Pleinda had heard she would be serving a Princess-to-be today, she had been preparing the whole day for frivolousness and arrogance, trying to gather patience for hearing scornful remarks with the delicate, princess-like nose high in the air. This one, though, seemed like she had been popped right out of the woods - and who knew if she could hop on the bed in any minute to jump on it as any five-year-old would do.
"That would be all, thank you," Legolas said politely. After Pleinda had left, he removed his weapons and cloak hanging them on the wall and sat on the bed, watching Sulrochil's sauntering.
Sulrochil looked at the ornaments of all tapestries carefully, walked here and there, opening all cupboards. Finally, she stopped by a door. "What is this?" she asked, pointing at the door.
"A door."
"Very amusing," Sulrochil sighed. "But why are there two doors in this room?"
"You might want to open the door and see for yourself."
Sulrochil peeped in, and rapidly pulled her head back. "A bathroom!" She slammed the door shut, not daring to set her feet into it.
"Why exactly is the bathroom so problematic?"
"I have never been in a room with a private bathroom!" she exclaimed, casting a glance at the offending door. "But you are naturally used to this."
"I am used to everything between having my own bathroom and breaking up ice so I can wash in a freezing river," Legolas shrugged. "Are you finished with your tour?"
"Aye," Sulrochil replied, swinging her quiver and other gear off and hanging them on the wall next to his weaponry. "I forgot that the King is waiting for us. Oh, I mean your father. Or, is he the King now? Which he is now? Can he be both at the same time?"
"Whatever he is, he can wait," Legolas smiled and patted the bed beside him. "I meant I am waiting for you."
"Now are you?" Sulrochil smiled, casting a glance at his hand. She decided to ignore the offer to sit next to him and climbed right onto his lap. "And what did you have in mind?" She slid her hands slowly around his neck. As she tucked her fingers deeper under his hair, giddiness filled her heart.
He wanted this; all the time he was begging for more.
There was a need to lean only very slightly down, and she could mould her lips onto his. In an instant, he opened his mouth a little to invite her to explore. Feeling his desire for her touch, for her attention, threw her off balance. Letting her tongue glide on his lips, and into his mouth wandering slowly everywhere, she gave him what he wanted. Suddenly, she lost the ability to breathe.
Breathing seemed unimportant, though, when her heart drummed deep in her chest as he pulled her closer. Not letting the connection break off, she leaned her forehead onto his and lifted her fingers to his cheeks. Love flowed from her fingertips all over his face as she slowly began discovering the routes that made his breath hitch.
A new world was opening to them and gradually the tips of her fingers rooted into his skin, creating faint lines from soul to soul. The kiss deepened again, and the lines between their souls became stronger. Something anew stirred; new paths were forged all over within their forest.
Sulrochil withdrew from the kiss - the first steps on these paths were overwhelming.
All she could do was to lean her face onto his cheek, and each other's smile burned on their skin. For a moment, she contemplated whether or not she should say she loved him but decided to talk would be altogether too much, and she only concentrated on feeling her love and let the emotion rush into him. At once, she felt his answer - the grip of his arms around her tightening and his love surrounding her like a vast, bountiful forest, giving the familiar scent of fresh foliage.
Pressing her nose against his cheek, she inhaled intensely trying to decide if the scent is real or her imagination.
"Are you trying to breathe me?" Legolas smiled.
"What?" Sulrochil exclaimed prodding the tip of her nose against his and scowled at him. "Not even I am foolish enough to believe such a thing could be possible."
"Sultithen, that was a jest."
"It was a strange jest because everyone knows your loved one is more important than air and thus cannot be breathed."
"But if you follow that line of thought, you get a conclusion that you can breathe people you do not love."
"Of course not. They are less important than air, and thus cannot be breathed."
"Naturally," he sighed and bumped his forehead against hers. The lightness of his mirth danced all around their souls. "Please, never change, I would be lost without your insightful reasoning."
"I know you would. And do you know what? I have a feeling all Lake-towners we see inside this building tonight will be elderly women."
"Definitely father has made sure there are no men around here, but who cares if the women are young or old."
"The young ones would be gawking at you."
"I am used to that," Legolas shrugged.
"I. Am. Not." Sulrochil said stressing every word. "I am not sure what I would do if I found one of those infuriating women ogling you."
"Not if, when," he replied. "The women can do it more discreetly than the men; nevertheless, they do it. And you are not any better than me if you get angry at that. Do I need to confiscate your arrows?"
"I am not like you," she whispered into his ear, "who threaten people with your arrows before thinking anything, Legolasdaer." (daer=betrothed)
"No," he whispered back, surprised by how much joy her decision to use a nickname gave him. "You shoot them with your words before you remember you carry arrows."
It was like an invitation to be part of her secret world.
"Exactly, Legolasmelldaer." (mell=dear)
"Did you change it?" he turned to look at Sulrochil in wonder. "Why?
"I did not change anything, Mellegolasdaer."
"You are changing it all the time."
"The name itself does not change, Legolaslencdaer." (lenc=slow)
"Is the feature of my name that it changes constantly?"
"You got it, Maellegolasdaer!" (maen=clever)
"Why?"
"When I tried to figure out a perfect name for you, I had dozens of proper ones which I would like to use. Fear not, they all either include your entire name or do not include it at all. My name is easy to shorten to 'Sul', but not yours. Or perhaps it is not about difficulty, but about my adamantine will to not shorten it. You are Legolas, the Green Leaf, the Leaf of the Living Tree, not any brown one the tree has dropped and discarded!
"Therefore, these names tend to be lengthy, but you have time to listen, or what do you think? I rather like the long ones. The longer, the better - they feel exquisite on my tongue. Just like if I was sliding my tongue on -" her babble paused, and her eyes shone with sheer happiness. "So, there was no way to pick up only one name when they all make me feel like I am kissing you. I decided I could use all of them when they would be suitable and create many more as time goes on,"
"That sounds like something only you could conjure," Legolas smiled. "Actually that sounds just like you - I never know what goes in your mind at any time, or when you open your mouth, what comes out."
"But also the name you gave to me says more about you than me," Sulrochil said.
"What do you mean by that?
"When you say 'Sultithen', it describes precisely what you think of me, and you make it sound like exactly that."
"What is it?"
"That you think I am fragile and in a huge need of protection."
"I never thought of it like that. I thought my mind produced the name purely based on your size and how small you feel in my arms."
"It has nothing to do with my size. Well, perhaps a little. But not very much. On the other hand, you could say it has everything to do with my size but also at the same time it has everything to do with your desire to assure my safety."
"Your explanation was so indecisive I am not even sure what your point was."
"Are you ever?" she asked. "And it was not your mind that created the name - it was your soul. You always need me to tell you everything."
"Of course, so, please, tell me now, if the name I gave you is acceptable."
"Belegolasdaer, of course, it is. I love you, I feel you, and I feel your need to protect me. I feel it always like a shimmering shield around me. You would do anything to keep me safe and even lock me into a cell if you believed I was going to run to do something foolhardy, but there will never be a need for that because I shall never put us into a situation like that. If you say I should do something or not do something, I will eventually do as you say." (beleg=strong)
"Eventually?"
"I might have to disagree at first, but I promise in the end I will relent."
"Do you mean it?" Legolas asked, and in a moment he felt her seriousness. "You mean it. You do not believe what it means to me. I can handle any kind of 'disagreements', but I cannot even bear the thought of something happening to you."
"I know we decided we should not wallow in misery tonight about what happens tomorrow, but I need to say this now," Sulrochil said. "Mithrandir said I do not have to endure the agonizing longing for you when I am there doing my surveillance tomorrow and after that and I believe him, although I cannot understand why. We should be together after the bonding."
"We are supposed to be as close as possible," Legolas replied, caressing her neck, "When you were a moment ago at the other side of the room standing perplexed by the bathroom door, I already missed you. It was like being pressed forcefully between two walls. The longing will be horrendous tomorrow."
"It should be pure torture for both of us, but I believe Mithrandir has some trick in his sleeve. I do not even know how many days I must be there to gather all the needed information, but I will be cautious, extremely cautious, and there are only two threats to me. Both of those threats are inside my mind."
"The first one is easy to see: how can you survive to have to feel the fiendish evilness of the orcs radiate all over the place. Elves are not meant to be near them for a prolonged time - especially not you who feel everything with everything you are," Legolas said, putting his palm on her face and kissing her softly. "This is what I fear the most - how you can endure staying close to the wickedness created by the orcs?"
"I am not sure, I have never been close to them many days a row, but like I said earlier, if I cannot do it, I will come back with my tail between my legs."
"Good, but you said there are two threats, what is the second?"
"How can I concentrate on my task, knowing you will suffer horribly because my absence will slash your wounds bleeding again? How can you cope with me going away after you have believed I was dead?"
Sulrochil put her palm similarly on his face and mirrored the sweet kiss she just received.
"As I said earlier, I can cope with any pain, except if it is you who is hurt," Legolas whispered against her lips. "Please, do not worry about me. Aye, I will suffer, but I do not have to be spying around an orc base. I am worried about you how you will be able to accomplish your task, so please, do not waste your time worrying about me. Sultithen, I am sorry you have to do this."
"Please, do not be sorry. I wish I did not have to do this to you."
"Have you realized it too?" Legolas lifted his head.
"Realized what?"
"You tell me."
"When I leave tomorrow," she said, "you are left behind. You are always the one doing the action. You should be in the center of the action, and you are not meant to be left behind. And you will suffer because you cannot be there to help me."
"Aye, I will suffer," Legolas said vacantly.
So, she did not realize it. Good, because she would refuse to go tomorrow if she had realized it would be Legolas who will bear the longing of them both for Sulrochil to manage to concentrate on her task out there. It will be unbelievably excruciating and cruel for him - but he will do it for her.
He would do anything for her.
"This is just…," Legolas began but paused. "I will say this now, even if I should not. Please, don't go. There, I said it, but I will never repeat it because even if it breaks my heart to see you walk away, I want you to do it. It disturbs everything in me, and it clashes with everything I feel towards you, but you must go.
"When you are there tomorrow, I want you to remember that I am proud of you. Perhaps afterwards I can even boast about this 'It was my Sulrochil, who did this. It was my betrothed who gathered enough information about the enemy to win the war against the last remaining orcs and demolish all traces of their evilness from Middle-earth.'"
"Please, do not say anything more, or I will cry again."
"You can cry," Legolas said softly brushing his fingers on Sulrochil's face.
"But I do not want to. I would look horrible, and we should be going downstairs," Sulrochil said cheerily trying to remind that they should forget all despair for tonight.
"So, there is a bit of frivolousness in you after all," Legolas smiled, also trying to bury all gloomy thoughts and only bask in their love.
"I guess I must try. I am supposed to become a Princess someday." Sulrochil lifted her head, turning it around, trying to seem to be the noblest and the most graceful creature of all earth.
"Indeed, tiptoeing around in fancy dresses," Legolas moved his thighs making Sulrochil's feet hit the floor and pushed her out of his lap. "Now get moving."
"It would be nice if you sometimes asked me to get off your lap and not always just push me away," she said, scowling at him.
"But if I asked you to get up," he shrugged, "you would defy and argue for the joy of arguing."
"I would not."
"You would. 'Oh, now you are asking me to get up'," Legolas said mimicking Sulrochil. "'Ask how much you like, but I am not going anywhere!'"
"I would not…" Sulrochil insisted before realizing the glaring truth behind his words and began laughing. "I would."
Her melodic laughter echoed around the whole room, making them both full of mirth.
"I cannot ask you nicely," he said, keeping his face straight, taking her hand and pulling her along towards the door, "if you would possibly like to come downstairs with me because you would only end up refusing to go anywhere."
"Could you stop?" Sulrochil said giggling uncontrollably.
"I cannot ask you if I should happen to get to kiss you, because you would deny it by making up some foolish reason like us being in a hurry." He put his hand to the doorknob and began opening the door.
"Please, stop," Sulrochil said, halting his movement between her gales of laughter. "You cannot drag me downstairs like this."
"I know," Legolas said, leaning his shoulder to the door and brushing her hair off her face. "I am only teasing you. Now, are you finished with your fits of laughter?"
"Maybe," Sulrochil said, trying to resume her seriousness. "If you promise to stop."
"I will never stop because listening to your light-hearted laughter fills me with joy, and I never wish to stop hearing that."
"Just make sure you do not burst with the immeasurable pride of your masterful ability to make me laugh," Sulrochil smiled.
"And you with your incomparable ability to always turn everything to ridicule me."
Sulrochil lifted her eyes to look at Legolas, and if they had needed words, their conversation would have been the age-old exchange of all newly betrothed couples: "I love you." "And I love you."
There was no need for any words, though, only letting their love overflow. The silent conversation filled them with a torrent of blissful enjoyment, leading again to a sweet kiss by the door until they realized they were already horribly late.