Golden Leaves of Lorién

Chapter Six: Surrender

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Erlyannil watched the Elf prince depart from her window in tears. A tumult of conflicting emotions engulfed her and for a few moments she felt as though she were about to drown in it all. She wanted to run to Galadriel and throw her arms around the Lady with her warm radiant face, to hide in the comfort of her arms. She wanted Galadriel to protect her from the raw severity of everything that had erupted in, it seemed, just a matter of days.

It had all happened with the coming of the Elves from Mirkwood. Why did Legolas have to appear in my life? Why did he have to come to anguish me, to throw everything I knew into chaos…

Because I couldn't hide from the harsh face of truth for long. It was only a matter of time before she found out about her parents and their tragic love. Sooner or later it was bound to happen. Erlyannil sighed, and she stood to brush through the tangles of her hair and slip on a dark tunic and pants. She did not feel like walking through the gardens or admiring the trees or sitting with her shift hiked up past her knees and her feet dangling in the cool, rich waters of the springs.

She did not know what exactly she was going to do, but she knew she could not stay in her room forever. It was about time she faced the truth. She slipped her bow and arrows over her shoulder; archery was a skill long forgotten in the peaceful days of the Golden Wood. But she had been taught by the warrior Elves in Lorién, who were amused by the incipient adopted daughter of the Lady and her hunger for knowledge. She was uncertain of whether or not she would need to bring her weapons, but she brought them out of fear of the peoples' wrath at the unexpected events of the past nights. No doubt all of the Elves who were not children knew of her origins. They had just never spoken of it: it seemed to be a well-kept secret amongst the city.

"Erlyannil," Galadriel said, looking up and catching sight of the pale girl as she descended from her room to the grove.

"Lady," Erlyannil replied timidly, then looked at the people seated around the Lady. A middle-aged Elf sat near Galadriel: a mithril coronet rested upon his brow and he had a majestic air about him, and wisdom written on his face. Erlyannil immediately recognized him to be Elrond of Rivendell. And at his side sat another Elf, wizened but still in his middle years, dressed from head to toe in shades of green and brown. When Erlyannil saw him, she perceived the striking resemblance between son and father.

Erlyannil bowed low and was about to curtsy before she realized she was not wearing a dress and looked like an Elven archer on a forest patrol for orcs, save for her loose hair. "It is an honor, Lord Elrond, King Thranduil…" she said. Elrond nodded to her and studied her face with quiet contemplation.

Thranduil immediately turned to Galadriel. "This is the girl, Lady?"

Erlyannil's breath caught in her throat. She didn't tell them…did she? They are, no doubt, holding a council for some reason or another—obviously concerning recent events. But do they know about me?

"Yes," Galadriel replied calmly, a glow issuing from her eyes as she gazed upon Erlyannil's anxious face.

"My dear…" Elrond muttered, "so young. She knows the truth?"

"Yes, she knows who her mother and father were. And what they did."

The girl standing a few feet away looked timidly from one to another. Thranduil noticed this, and he smiled reassuringly at her. "Do not fear, young one, our people have grown restless, as you no doubt have perceived. It has happened before. We must take careful measures to preserve peace between us."

"I know that," she said quietly. "But what are you going to do?"

Elrond looked at her, sternly, but no without kindness. He looked upon her as though he looked upon Galadriel or Thranduil—as an equal. She noticed this, and realized that was why his people so respected him. Elrond was wise and stern, but fair. "Erlyannil, we are not going to raise havoc or create a war. We have realized that it may take much time for our people to be at rest with one another once more. The actions of one can have much effect on the balance of society."

"I'm sorry, for my father, I mean…" Erlyannil interjected shyly.

"No, 'tis not something in your obligation to apologize for," Thranduil said, "and naught can be done about it. We are beginning to believe that it is for the best that our people lay low in the north while yours remain secluded in the Golden Wood as they have before."

"But--" Erlyannil was waved silent by Galadriel.

"It is unfortunate, yes, and something we do not wish for, but if it must be done, then it will be. Do you see the city, my daughter?"

Erlyannil flinched slightly at the words, 'my daughter,' for she knew she was no longer to be the Lady's daughter. She felt a strange breach where there used to be motherly love when she looked at Galadriel, now that they both knew that she knew the truth.

"Yes, why?"

"The people are indoors. No one has ventured out, for fear of a riot. Your friend Lyndariel is still sick. Elladin fights to be near her because of his love for her, but he is being held by the guards of Thranduil and his son…" Erlyannil flinched again at the mentioning of the comely prince. "My dear, there is tension in the air. Something must be done but Lyndariel and Elladin's oaths cannot be broken, for it is an ill omen indeed to go against a marriage vow."

Erlyannil sighed and stared at her feet. She felt shy and awkward standing before the three rulers of the Elven kingdoms, yet inwardly there was a deep, powerful feeling straining to rise up. "What is to be done?" she asked quietly.

"I leave tomorrow with my people," Thranduil said. His tone was resigned and weary. "It is true that there are things I did in the past that I am ashamed of, for I was afraid my people would be hindered if we entered the war, but the Lady and Elrond know endless forgiveness. There will be no more seeking of a truce between our people until the time is ready. Until then, we stay in the north."

"And what of Elladin?" Erlyannil's voice was near to a whisper. She felt a lump rising in her throat, an unbidden grief that the ties between Elven kingdoms would again be severed.

"I gave my consent to their marriage," Galadriel said with a sigh. "And I still do. They are already married. Lyndariel, your cousin, is badly hurt by the knowledge that her father was killed…by yours…"

The Elven girl stared down at her feet, hot anger growing within her.

"My dear, I think you should go to Lyndariel and explain things to her. Elladin will be able to stay here, but I fear they will have to move out of the city." Galadriel looked just as worn as the other two, Erlyannil noticed, but in her face loomed the greatest shadow of grief.

The girl nodded and looked around at the three of them once more, unable to stifle the feeling of awe at their great wisdom and benevolence. She bowed low once more with her cheeks flushed and turned away to run down the steps and into the grove that led to the rest of the city.

As she ran, her thoughts turned suddenly to the fair son of Thranduil. Would she never see him again? He said he fell in love with me…then I was right. It is what he meant by threatening that history would repeat. History repeats now, again, with the decision that they have made. But what will happen in the future? It cannot always be so--Legolas said that things could change and they would…

She stumbled suddenly, and felt something caught on her tunic. Twisting around to look, Erlyannil saw that a thorned branch from one of the hedges had gotten entangled on the midriff of her black tunic, just under her arm. It had slit open the cloth and one of the thorns had pierced the skin, where dark red drops of blood were beginning to form. She gritted her teeth against the stinging of the thorns still against her skin and, with her fingers, tried to pry the fabric loose. But her fingers fumbled over the cloth and were, in turn, pricked by the keen thorns.

She whimpered softly in pain and sucked on the back of her index finger where the skin had been torn. Erlyannil stopped suddenly to listen as a sound of rolling thunder reached her ears from outside the woods. She paused to listen sharply and heard a storm raging. A storm raging, all around Lorién but not a drop of rain could touch the face of a golden leaf.

"Excuse me, maiden, are you hurt?" a soft voice from behind made her startle. She tried to twist around to see who it was but the thorn only dug deeper into her side. She winced and pulled herself as far as the thick fabric would allow away from the bush.

The owner of the voice stepped around to her front so she could see him. His eyes widened in recognition and he suddenly looked a bit flustered. "Legolas!" she exclaimed suddenly; she felt a warmth rising in her cheeks and knew she was blushing furiously. But he did not notice, for he took immediately to examining the fabric caught on the brambles of the hedge.

"You're caught bad. The thorns are all wound up around it…no way to get it off, but--" He suddenly bent down and bit down on the fabric, tearing it off with his teeth. Erlyannil was freed and she stepped away, looking down at the hole in her tunic.

Then she looked up at Legolas and noticed that one side of his face and lips were bleeding slightly from the thorns that had pricked his skin when he tore away the cloth. "Oh…you're bleeding!"

Legolas shook his head and looked down at the hole at her side. "I could not recognize you in your…change of wardrobe. I thought it was true that most maidens looked better in beautiful gowns, but I had never seen one in a man's clothes." There was a smile twinkling in his eyes. "Maybe you ought to mend that…oh, your skin is torn." When he looked up, Erlyannil's eyes suddenly met his and she felt the urge to look away.

But she held his gaze and instead found herself rambling, "Legolas, I'm sorry, I did not listen to you because I was afraid." She saw the despondence etched on his face and it made her heart cry out. "I…I didn't know what to say to you. I have only just met you, and all the things you said to me, they frightened me because I was afraid of what might happen if I gave in to my own feelings. And now…oh, Legolas, do you know that your father is here? And he's going to take you all away from here, back to Mirkwood...tomorrow." Tears were in her eyes also when she finished. She could not deny the strong longing to be with the Elven prince any longer, and she knew it.

Legolas was looking down at her, a strange fire burning in his eyes. Wordlessly he raised his trembling hand and entangled it in her dark hair. Erlyannil was shocked to see tears in his eyes. A faint smile came to his lips. "Erlyannil…do you remember what I said? About how things would change."

"Yes. But, Legolas, they won't. They won't change because your people are leaving and we should have been better off never meeting. Lyndariel and Elladin are just as good as exiled from Lorién and Mirkwood, though they have to stay together because vows cannot be broken. Things won't change. They'll live somewhere else, objects of shame, and you'll go back to your home, and…and I'll never see you…again."

Erlyannil's speech was faltering as she began to cry. She couldn't explain why she was crying, just that she felt terrible grief and regret that she hadn't told Legolas how she truly felt, and now it was too late. She saw the look of brief rebellion in his eyes and knew he was thinking what she had grudgingly waved away from her mind, to run away from both their homes and abandon everything behind just to be together somewhere else…

But she knew it wasn't possible. And she saw the rebellious fire die down in his eyes, too, though it kindled in his eyes longer than it had in her.

"I love you," he whispered quietly, urgently, all in one breath, like one foolishly lost in the throes of passion. She looked deep into his blue eyes and saw the love he claimed for her glowing there, bright and burning. Despite herself, she suddenly placed her hands on the sides of his face and wiped away the blood. Her fingers brushed against his cut lip and he closed his eyes, turning his face towards her hand as if to savor the feeling.

She felt her heart thudding in her chest while it simultaneously ached terribly. Erlyannil pulled his face towards hers and kissed him fiercely. She felt his sharp intake of air but then his hands were cradling her face and his lips moving against hers desperately. She started to sob without tears as an overwhelming feeling engulfed her.

Their kiss was so frantic that she had to pull away for fear of her heart bursting. Erlyannil suddenly fell to her knees and sat down on the stone pathway. Legolas crouched beside her, breathing hard.

"Why did this happen?" she asked, more to herself.

Legolas was at a loss for words. But after a long silence, in which he felt so much restlessness stir in him that he wanted to scream, he spoke. "You should go to your friend. She is sick."

Erlyannil's eyes grew into focus again as she was brought back to reality. She sighed heavily and looked at the pleading look in Legolas' eyes. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have."

"No," he said quietly but ardently. "Go to her." He helped her up and she looked back at him with a tumult of confusion in her eyes before she disappeared around the corner. Legolas was left standing in the middle of the hedge. He had never felt such passion for anyone before, and he had never expected it to happen in such a short matter of days. It was a lightning quick meeting and it would be a heart breaking parting. He suddenly remembered, unbidden, the feeling of her mouth, the way he had felt her body racked with sobs as they kissed.

Legolas buried his face in his hands.

The Lady Galadriel stood at the top of the steps leading down into the grove with grief written on her face, solemnly watching the young Elf cry his heart out tearlessly.

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Disclaimer: Being a work of fanfiction, the original is property of J.R.R. Tolkien (and Saul Zaentz). Any original characters and plot are the rightful property of me. J Extra comments, questions? Email to: jidai_rinoa@hotmail.com