This is them grown up, but still a flashback. Sorry about getting a little
carried away by this whole flashback, but I felt a nagging urge to make
sure that they had a chance to reach a good elven age, they seem to wear
those thousands of years on their shoulders pretty well. I always remember
Legolas calling Aragorn and Gimli 'children' in the Two Towers, so he must
be pretty old.
* * * * *
Lóriel was walking through Sorendeth, her heart full of anger. Her younger sister had found her treasured bow, and had told her parents. Lóriel had been almost apoplectic with fury at this most precious thing being violated with taunts. She had only just managed to convince her parents that it had been a parting gift from Legolas, not a weapon that she was learning to use. She was carrying it away into the woods to hide it where no one would come upon it and mock it again. Tears ran down her cheeks, but she did not lift her hand to wipe them away. Her vision was so misted that she did not see the grey horse coming towards her, and almost cannoned straight into it.
'I'm sorry, my lady, I did not see you…' a strangely familiar voice said, as its owner swung down from the horse. Then 'Lóriel?'
Lóriel wiped her eyes and stared at the tall handsome elf that stood before her. 'Legolas?' She flung herself into his arms, her tears now of joy at his arrival.
Legolas felt tears mist his own eyes as he wrapped his arms round his old friend. He sternly blinked them away. 'Lóriel! It makes my heart glad to see you again! I see you still have the old bow I gave you. But why are you hurrying down the street weeping?' He released her gently and stared at her, his blue eyes filled with compassion.
'It's nothing, just my ridiculous quirks. I've kept up the archery you taught me, practising whenever I have free time but I've never told anyone about it. My sister found the bow this morning, and there was a terrible fuss. My parents were convinced I've been practising archery in secrecy. I couldn't tell them the truth, it was a betrayal both to me and to them. I couldn't tell them that I've been lying all these years, that my walks in the wood weren't just that, but archery practise! I had to lie more, pretend it was something you'd given me as a keepsake before you went away.'
'You're not running away?' Legolas asked, horrified.
'No, nothing like that. I want to find somewhere safe to put the bow and arrows, before anyone else starts hauling them around.'
'I'll take them if you like. I know a secret place near here, where no water will get to the equipment.' He took the horse's bridle in one hand, slung her bow and quiver over his shoulder 'for appearances,' he explained with a wink, and drew her along with him. 'I'll drop by and say hi to your father, ask can I stable Cirien there, then covert operation begins.'
Lóriel felt her spirits begin to lift. Now that Legolas was back, things seemed a lot better. They stabled the horse, then Legolas paid a short visit to her parents, telling them that he and Lóriel were going for a walk to catch up on years of news. Dropping by the stables, he picked up his bow, and the pair set off into the wood.
They talked together, falling easily back into the old familiarity of their childhood, but each felt strangely shy towards the other. Legolas could hardly believe that the small elf girl he had left had turned into this beautiful poised woman. But inside she was the same Lóriel, the laughing, daring child, who inspired him to greater mischief in whatever they did. His eyes kept returning to her, the silken strands of her hair, the large dark eyes, her rippling laughter, her graceful movements.
Lóriel also walked along, thinking of the changes time had done to the cheeky elf boy. Gone were the chubby cheeks, although she noticed with a smile, he retained his dimples. His long blond hair, swept casually back off his forehead, reached past his shoulder, and his movements spoke of effortless grace. She could still see something of the old Legolas in his eyes, the light and laughter in them were the same as when he had been a boy.
'So what are you going to do about the archery problem?' Legolas inquired.
Lóriel bit her lip. 'I don't know. I really don't know. It's not just the lack of practise I get, but the lying. I can see that the more lies I tell the harder it's going to be to extricate myself from them. I tried once, by broaching the subject of women learning to use weapons, my parents were against it, heart, mind and soul. They couldn't accept it, even as a pastime. I know in these days a few elf women are learning archery skills, and sword skills, but they are few. My parents say there are enough men to protect us, why should women waste their time learning to fight, because there are many other things to be learned.'
'I don't think it's a waste of time learning to fight,' Legolas answered softly. 'There are dangers out in the world. Everyone should learn how to protect themselves. Archery is a good way. If you were attacked by a group of orcs, you would be far more likely to survive if you shot them down rather than grapple with them. They would over power you and slay you. If you played nimble and quick, hit and run techniques, you'd have a good chance of survival. I learned a lot about this kind of stuff in the Shire. Women are taught archery skills. Although they do not patrol, they are placed on guard around the dwellings, and can be very effective.'
A longing flared in Lóriel. 'Why was I born a woman? I would so love to be involved in these activities.' She sighed. 'I don't understand how other women can be content to stay at home. As I said, other girls do train in archery, but Mirkwood is becoming dangerous. It is for their own protection, not for protecting others.'
'Don't you like to dress up and look beautiful,' Legolas teased.
Lóriel grinned ruefully. 'I can't deny that I like beautiful clothes, and dressing up, but there are no people to see me much of the day, so I tend not to bother. When there is a feast I dress up, and I admit, I do enjoy it. But look at me today.' She was wearing an old riding habit, one sleeve darned, and the pattern beginning to fade.
Legolas enfolded her hand in his. 'Today, we are going to do some good practise, before we hide that bow of yours away for a bit. I have learned so many new things, and I have been longing to teach them to you.'
* * * *
Legolas discovered that Lóriel's talent had not diminished over the years. She was as deadly an aim as ever, and Legolas instructed her in the new techniques and tricks he had picked up in his years away. Finally, they relaxed at the edge of the woodland glade.
'You've certainly practised a lot,' Legolas remarked. 'I ought to have returned sooner.'
'Have you been home since you left?' Lóriel asked.
'No.' Here Legolas hesitated. 'Lóriel…'
'What is it, Legolas?' Lóriel turned to him, her eyes darkening with anxiety.
'Lóriel, I have not returned for good. I am to be posted as Captain of the Southern Mirkwood guard. I will not be able to return frequently, and only then for flying visits. My father told me of his plans last night when I reached home.'
Lóriel swallowed hard, her mind absorbing the shock of his announcement. 'You must go…When?'
'In a couple of months time. Father wants me to get used to being back in these woodlands again. Lóriel, in that time I can see you frequently, but after that, I will only be able to see you every few years.'
Lóriel was crying openly now. Legolas pulled her into his arms, tears flowing down his own face as he whispered to her. 'I won't let our friendship die, Lóriel, I promise.'
'I know, Legolas. This can't be helped. I should have seen it coming. You are the King's son and a promising warrior. Mirkwood needs elves like you.'
'And elves like you, Lóriel. You have bravery and loyalty rivalling that of any warrior.' He touched her cheek gently. 'Promise me this. Do not give up your archery. Do you remember what I said when we were young, that we'd have an adventure together? We have all the years of the world before us, and I would have you prepared.'
Lóriel's sobs lessened, but the tears coursing down both their cheeks did not, and she clung to her friend, relishing these moments in his company.
* * * * *
Lóriel was walking through Sorendeth, her heart full of anger. Her younger sister had found her treasured bow, and had told her parents. Lóriel had been almost apoplectic with fury at this most precious thing being violated with taunts. She had only just managed to convince her parents that it had been a parting gift from Legolas, not a weapon that she was learning to use. She was carrying it away into the woods to hide it where no one would come upon it and mock it again. Tears ran down her cheeks, but she did not lift her hand to wipe them away. Her vision was so misted that she did not see the grey horse coming towards her, and almost cannoned straight into it.
'I'm sorry, my lady, I did not see you…' a strangely familiar voice said, as its owner swung down from the horse. Then 'Lóriel?'
Lóriel wiped her eyes and stared at the tall handsome elf that stood before her. 'Legolas?' She flung herself into his arms, her tears now of joy at his arrival.
Legolas felt tears mist his own eyes as he wrapped his arms round his old friend. He sternly blinked them away. 'Lóriel! It makes my heart glad to see you again! I see you still have the old bow I gave you. But why are you hurrying down the street weeping?' He released her gently and stared at her, his blue eyes filled with compassion.
'It's nothing, just my ridiculous quirks. I've kept up the archery you taught me, practising whenever I have free time but I've never told anyone about it. My sister found the bow this morning, and there was a terrible fuss. My parents were convinced I've been practising archery in secrecy. I couldn't tell them the truth, it was a betrayal both to me and to them. I couldn't tell them that I've been lying all these years, that my walks in the wood weren't just that, but archery practise! I had to lie more, pretend it was something you'd given me as a keepsake before you went away.'
'You're not running away?' Legolas asked, horrified.
'No, nothing like that. I want to find somewhere safe to put the bow and arrows, before anyone else starts hauling them around.'
'I'll take them if you like. I know a secret place near here, where no water will get to the equipment.' He took the horse's bridle in one hand, slung her bow and quiver over his shoulder 'for appearances,' he explained with a wink, and drew her along with him. 'I'll drop by and say hi to your father, ask can I stable Cirien there, then covert operation begins.'
Lóriel felt her spirits begin to lift. Now that Legolas was back, things seemed a lot better. They stabled the horse, then Legolas paid a short visit to her parents, telling them that he and Lóriel were going for a walk to catch up on years of news. Dropping by the stables, he picked up his bow, and the pair set off into the wood.
They talked together, falling easily back into the old familiarity of their childhood, but each felt strangely shy towards the other. Legolas could hardly believe that the small elf girl he had left had turned into this beautiful poised woman. But inside she was the same Lóriel, the laughing, daring child, who inspired him to greater mischief in whatever they did. His eyes kept returning to her, the silken strands of her hair, the large dark eyes, her rippling laughter, her graceful movements.
Lóriel also walked along, thinking of the changes time had done to the cheeky elf boy. Gone were the chubby cheeks, although she noticed with a smile, he retained his dimples. His long blond hair, swept casually back off his forehead, reached past his shoulder, and his movements spoke of effortless grace. She could still see something of the old Legolas in his eyes, the light and laughter in them were the same as when he had been a boy.
'So what are you going to do about the archery problem?' Legolas inquired.
Lóriel bit her lip. 'I don't know. I really don't know. It's not just the lack of practise I get, but the lying. I can see that the more lies I tell the harder it's going to be to extricate myself from them. I tried once, by broaching the subject of women learning to use weapons, my parents were against it, heart, mind and soul. They couldn't accept it, even as a pastime. I know in these days a few elf women are learning archery skills, and sword skills, but they are few. My parents say there are enough men to protect us, why should women waste their time learning to fight, because there are many other things to be learned.'
'I don't think it's a waste of time learning to fight,' Legolas answered softly. 'There are dangers out in the world. Everyone should learn how to protect themselves. Archery is a good way. If you were attacked by a group of orcs, you would be far more likely to survive if you shot them down rather than grapple with them. They would over power you and slay you. If you played nimble and quick, hit and run techniques, you'd have a good chance of survival. I learned a lot about this kind of stuff in the Shire. Women are taught archery skills. Although they do not patrol, they are placed on guard around the dwellings, and can be very effective.'
A longing flared in Lóriel. 'Why was I born a woman? I would so love to be involved in these activities.' She sighed. 'I don't understand how other women can be content to stay at home. As I said, other girls do train in archery, but Mirkwood is becoming dangerous. It is for their own protection, not for protecting others.'
'Don't you like to dress up and look beautiful,' Legolas teased.
Lóriel grinned ruefully. 'I can't deny that I like beautiful clothes, and dressing up, but there are no people to see me much of the day, so I tend not to bother. When there is a feast I dress up, and I admit, I do enjoy it. But look at me today.' She was wearing an old riding habit, one sleeve darned, and the pattern beginning to fade.
Legolas enfolded her hand in his. 'Today, we are going to do some good practise, before we hide that bow of yours away for a bit. I have learned so many new things, and I have been longing to teach them to you.'
* * * *
Legolas discovered that Lóriel's talent had not diminished over the years. She was as deadly an aim as ever, and Legolas instructed her in the new techniques and tricks he had picked up in his years away. Finally, they relaxed at the edge of the woodland glade.
'You've certainly practised a lot,' Legolas remarked. 'I ought to have returned sooner.'
'Have you been home since you left?' Lóriel asked.
'No.' Here Legolas hesitated. 'Lóriel…'
'What is it, Legolas?' Lóriel turned to him, her eyes darkening with anxiety.
'Lóriel, I have not returned for good. I am to be posted as Captain of the Southern Mirkwood guard. I will not be able to return frequently, and only then for flying visits. My father told me of his plans last night when I reached home.'
Lóriel swallowed hard, her mind absorbing the shock of his announcement. 'You must go…When?'
'In a couple of months time. Father wants me to get used to being back in these woodlands again. Lóriel, in that time I can see you frequently, but after that, I will only be able to see you every few years.'
Lóriel was crying openly now. Legolas pulled her into his arms, tears flowing down his own face as he whispered to her. 'I won't let our friendship die, Lóriel, I promise.'
'I know, Legolas. This can't be helped. I should have seen it coming. You are the King's son and a promising warrior. Mirkwood needs elves like you.'
'And elves like you, Lóriel. You have bravery and loyalty rivalling that of any warrior.' He touched her cheek gently. 'Promise me this. Do not give up your archery. Do you remember what I said when we were young, that we'd have an adventure together? We have all the years of the world before us, and I would have you prepared.'
Lóriel's sobs lessened, but the tears coursing down both their cheeks did not, and she clung to her friend, relishing these moments in his company.