RATING: PG-13
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 (emi_kins@yahoo.com)
4.
The more time that Isabella spent with Calen, the more she dreaded her time with the prince. Legolas tried his best to woo her with flowers and compliments that she received with gracious dignity, all the while worrying that he would choose her to be his bride. Calen, on the other hand, won her heart anew each time he smiled or spoke her name. She admired the midnight blue shade of his eyes, the way the sun danced and glinted in his hair, and the way the corners of his mouth turned upward just a little crookedly when he smiled.
The two suitors were like night and day – one formal, serious, and dignified; and the other relaxed and easy-going. The strangest thing to Isabella was that their rivalry over her did not seem to affect the relationship between the prince and his captain. In fact, she often came upon them late at night when she could not sleep, speaking in hushed tones in some dark corner. The more they spoke, the more they vied for her attention, and the more they vied for her attention, the more often she found them whispering. It was beginning to drive her mad, so when they announced that they would be leaving the next morning, she sighed with relief. Perhaps the prince would find a proper match with the governor's daughter and leave her to live happily ever after with Calen.
Unfortunately that was not meant to be. Late in the afternoon of that final day, Calen followed her to the stables and cornered her behind the hay bales.
"Isabella, I've something to say to you, and not much time to say it." He spoke in hushed tones, more urgent than she had ever heard him use.
"What is it, Calen?"
"I need you to promise me something and not ask any questions. And if you love me as I love you, My Beautiful One, then you will comply."
"I do love you," she whispered, taking his hands. "More than I have ever loved anyone."
His expression grew even graver. "The prince has purposed it in his heart to ask for your hand this very night. He speaks with your father even now, and on the morrow we leave not for the governor's home, but for the palace of Mirkwood, for the king has summoned us there."
Isabella's body grew numb and she began to tremble. She should be happy, she knew, but instead she was devastated. "Why? Why must he ask for my hand when it is obvious to everyone that I love you?"
"I cannot answer your questions, My Love, though I desire to do so more than anything. But you must promise me something."
She nodded and spoke in a shaky voice, "Anything, Calen."
He gazed at her with such great love in his eyes that she was nearly overcome with it. "Please," he said, "accept the prince's proposal."
"What?" she whispered.
"You must agree to marry Legolas," he said gently.
"Of course I must," she replied, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over onto her cheeks. "It is my duty, Calen. But how will I live, seeing you every day and being wed to him?"
His eyes filled with pain as her tears began to fall. "I know not, Isabella. But Thranduil's son needs you. Mirkwood needs you. And… I truly believe the prince can make you happy."
She could not bear even to look into his eyes. "Oh, Calen… Perhaps I am just not meant to be happy."
He pulled her near and held her tight, running his fingers through her hair, drying the tears from her eyes. "I'm sorry, Isabella. So sorry, My Love…. Do not be afraid. Time will tell you that all is as it should be."
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 (emi_kins@yahoo.com)
4.
The more time that Isabella spent with Calen, the more she dreaded her time with the prince. Legolas tried his best to woo her with flowers and compliments that she received with gracious dignity, all the while worrying that he would choose her to be his bride. Calen, on the other hand, won her heart anew each time he smiled or spoke her name. She admired the midnight blue shade of his eyes, the way the sun danced and glinted in his hair, and the way the corners of his mouth turned upward just a little crookedly when he smiled.
The two suitors were like night and day – one formal, serious, and dignified; and the other relaxed and easy-going. The strangest thing to Isabella was that their rivalry over her did not seem to affect the relationship between the prince and his captain. In fact, she often came upon them late at night when she could not sleep, speaking in hushed tones in some dark corner. The more they spoke, the more they vied for her attention, and the more they vied for her attention, the more often she found them whispering. It was beginning to drive her mad, so when they announced that they would be leaving the next morning, she sighed with relief. Perhaps the prince would find a proper match with the governor's daughter and leave her to live happily ever after with Calen.
Unfortunately that was not meant to be. Late in the afternoon of that final day, Calen followed her to the stables and cornered her behind the hay bales.
"Isabella, I've something to say to you, and not much time to say it." He spoke in hushed tones, more urgent than she had ever heard him use.
"What is it, Calen?"
"I need you to promise me something and not ask any questions. And if you love me as I love you, My Beautiful One, then you will comply."
"I do love you," she whispered, taking his hands. "More than I have ever loved anyone."
His expression grew even graver. "The prince has purposed it in his heart to ask for your hand this very night. He speaks with your father even now, and on the morrow we leave not for the governor's home, but for the palace of Mirkwood, for the king has summoned us there."
Isabella's body grew numb and she began to tremble. She should be happy, she knew, but instead she was devastated. "Why? Why must he ask for my hand when it is obvious to everyone that I love you?"
"I cannot answer your questions, My Love, though I desire to do so more than anything. But you must promise me something."
She nodded and spoke in a shaky voice, "Anything, Calen."
He gazed at her with such great love in his eyes that she was nearly overcome with it. "Please," he said, "accept the prince's proposal."
"What?" she whispered.
"You must agree to marry Legolas," he said gently.
"Of course I must," she replied, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over onto her cheeks. "It is my duty, Calen. But how will I live, seeing you every day and being wed to him?"
His eyes filled with pain as her tears began to fall. "I know not, Isabella. But Thranduil's son needs you. Mirkwood needs you. And… I truly believe the prince can make you happy."
She could not bear even to look into his eyes. "Oh, Calen… Perhaps I am just not meant to be happy."
He pulled her near and held her tight, running his fingers through her hair, drying the tears from her eyes. "I'm sorry, Isabella. So sorry, My Love…. Do not be afraid. Time will tell you that all is as it should be."