As Legolas ran, he thought—he thought of this strange woman of which he
could know nothing. He knew he would have to lead her to Thor—she said the
future was at stake. But how could he do this without knowing her
purposes? This Morgaine, she seemed to be very private. She said she was
a priestess, but how could he know she was not a priestess to some
futuristic evil force? O, the questions he would ask. Despite his worry,
he became excited at the thought of the look into the future he had.
Back at her resting-place, Morgaine also thought. This elf was nothing like those she had encountered when she strayed from the path in Avalon. Those elves had been careless of them, had taken her to forbidden methods of pleasure and she had felt no guilt. She was old, and had no desire for Legolas, but she wondered: what were his people like? She felt a sudden distrust for them. The elven queen she had met many years ago had confused her, tricked her. Legolas might do the same. But, she thought angrily, there is nothing I can do! The fate of Avalon is in the hands, now, of a complete stranger to its ways. Even if I can manage to bring back a part of the sacred mirror, the pain of the believers of Avalon will not be gone. How will I pay them for their faith? She rose and prayed, frantically, to the Goddess. All she could do now was trust and wait. Viviane had not trusted to receive help from any. But Viviane is dead! After all these years, do you not remember? And maybe that was her undoing. What else can I do, what else but trust? She sighed. And she knew that even Viviane would trust this elf, because she had to.
Neither Legolas nor Morgaine minded hard travel. Legolas was reminiscent of his early Fellowship days, filled with wonder at what was ahead. Morgaine pushed on grimly, eager to recover her home.
"Why do you hurry so? Has not time stopped where you come from? NO, I suppose it hasn't, but can not you go back to the same time from which you came?"
"No. Time has not stopped in Avalon. It moves slower than ever before, one second here would take an hour to pass in Avalon. But at the end of an Avalon day, this Avalon day, all may be lost, and I may never get back."
"Tell me of your practice. You said you were a priestess, yes?" Morgaine nodded solemnly. "Whom do you worship? Who follows you? And why, if such a place as Avalon is so holy, is your race of followers dying out?"
"My Goddess. That is the one I worship. She is the fruit of the earth, the creator of the earth, the changer of time and season. She watches over Avalon, but the Christians have desecrated her name. Now, their church bells can be heard on our shores. Now, the empire once belonging to Arthur, a protector of Avalon is an empire ruled by bishops and priests. Gwenwhyfar, the queen, follows the word of these crows, and has stopped the function of Beltane." Legolas looked confused. "on Beltane, there is a special bonfire ceremony, and the people of the Goddess mate, and bear forth children to continue her word. But Gwenwhyfar has condemned this practice as savage, and Beltane is no more." Morgaine's words were bitter.
For an older woman, Legolas thought she had aged gracefully at first, but upon closer view, Morgaine's eyes held centuries of worry, and oceans of pain. He pushed her no further down a trip of memories, but thought through this Goddess. He thought of the practice of Beltane, and thought it was no more savage than woven clothing: the making of life was a blessed occurrence. He walked silently, and took a piece of bread from his pack. As he chewed thoughtfully, he remembered the quest he had gone to with the Fellowship, so similar to Morgaine's. Their world had been at stake, also, and one needed protection: Frodo's life had been as important as Morgaine's. But their quest had been one of destruction, and Morgaine's was one of preservation.
Morgaine had no trust for Legolas. She did not know why. He gave her chills, as though she knew him. Deep down, she knew his likeness to lancelet was part of this, but her heart refused to believe this. Her mind grew tumultuous, and she could think of no reason why Legolas should accompany her on this quest.
"Do you have a map?" Her harsh tone startled Legolas.
"Why, yes, of course." He rummaged through his things and handed her the map.
The rest of the afternoon was spent silently. They stopped to eat at evening, and Morgaine studied the map thoroughly, in fact, she never took her eyes from it. They set up a camp and Morgaine turned away from Legolas on her palette.
Late that night, Morgaine turned to Legolas and saw his even breathing and felt his sleep. She gathered up her things, taking the map, and left quietly for Thor. The next morning, Legolas woke alone and without a reason for worry. Why, then, did his heart trouble?
Back at her resting-place, Morgaine also thought. This elf was nothing like those she had encountered when she strayed from the path in Avalon. Those elves had been careless of them, had taken her to forbidden methods of pleasure and she had felt no guilt. She was old, and had no desire for Legolas, but she wondered: what were his people like? She felt a sudden distrust for them. The elven queen she had met many years ago had confused her, tricked her. Legolas might do the same. But, she thought angrily, there is nothing I can do! The fate of Avalon is in the hands, now, of a complete stranger to its ways. Even if I can manage to bring back a part of the sacred mirror, the pain of the believers of Avalon will not be gone. How will I pay them for their faith? She rose and prayed, frantically, to the Goddess. All she could do now was trust and wait. Viviane had not trusted to receive help from any. But Viviane is dead! After all these years, do you not remember? And maybe that was her undoing. What else can I do, what else but trust? She sighed. And she knew that even Viviane would trust this elf, because she had to.
Neither Legolas nor Morgaine minded hard travel. Legolas was reminiscent of his early Fellowship days, filled with wonder at what was ahead. Morgaine pushed on grimly, eager to recover her home.
"Why do you hurry so? Has not time stopped where you come from? NO, I suppose it hasn't, but can not you go back to the same time from which you came?"
"No. Time has not stopped in Avalon. It moves slower than ever before, one second here would take an hour to pass in Avalon. But at the end of an Avalon day, this Avalon day, all may be lost, and I may never get back."
"Tell me of your practice. You said you were a priestess, yes?" Morgaine nodded solemnly. "Whom do you worship? Who follows you? And why, if such a place as Avalon is so holy, is your race of followers dying out?"
"My Goddess. That is the one I worship. She is the fruit of the earth, the creator of the earth, the changer of time and season. She watches over Avalon, but the Christians have desecrated her name. Now, their church bells can be heard on our shores. Now, the empire once belonging to Arthur, a protector of Avalon is an empire ruled by bishops and priests. Gwenwhyfar, the queen, follows the word of these crows, and has stopped the function of Beltane." Legolas looked confused. "on Beltane, there is a special bonfire ceremony, and the people of the Goddess mate, and bear forth children to continue her word. But Gwenwhyfar has condemned this practice as savage, and Beltane is no more." Morgaine's words were bitter.
For an older woman, Legolas thought she had aged gracefully at first, but upon closer view, Morgaine's eyes held centuries of worry, and oceans of pain. He pushed her no further down a trip of memories, but thought through this Goddess. He thought of the practice of Beltane, and thought it was no more savage than woven clothing: the making of life was a blessed occurrence. He walked silently, and took a piece of bread from his pack. As he chewed thoughtfully, he remembered the quest he had gone to with the Fellowship, so similar to Morgaine's. Their world had been at stake, also, and one needed protection: Frodo's life had been as important as Morgaine's. But their quest had been one of destruction, and Morgaine's was one of preservation.
Morgaine had no trust for Legolas. She did not know why. He gave her chills, as though she knew him. Deep down, she knew his likeness to lancelet was part of this, but her heart refused to believe this. Her mind grew tumultuous, and she could think of no reason why Legolas should accompany her on this quest.
"Do you have a map?" Her harsh tone startled Legolas.
"Why, yes, of course." He rummaged through his things and handed her the map.
The rest of the afternoon was spent silently. They stopped to eat at evening, and Morgaine studied the map thoroughly, in fact, she never took her eyes from it. They set up a camp and Morgaine turned away from Legolas on her palette.
Late that night, Morgaine turned to Legolas and saw his even breathing and felt his sleep. She gathered up her things, taking the map, and left quietly for Thor. The next morning, Legolas woke alone and without a reason for worry. Why, then, did his heart trouble?