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 Emily (emi_kins@yahoo.com)
***START A/N*** A little history on Isabella's mom for those who are confused/interested: Liriliel came from a kingdom by the sea where she was a princess. There was an uprising and her entire family was killed, forcing her to flee inland with a small group of maidservants and guards. She ended up seeking sanctuary with the Elves of Mirkwood where King Thranduil granted her a title and a place to live in the palace for as long as she desired it. She was killed in a flood when Isabella was 16 years old. Hope that answers some questions! :) Also, I'm going on vacation this weekend, starting tonight, and I'll try to keep updating, but I'm unsure of the internet access so no guarantees. Check back on Monday/Sunday night. There will be more then for sure if not sooner. ***END A/N***
5.
Isabella would not be rushed back to the cottage where the prince waited. She wept bitter tears in Calen's arms, clutching him to herself as if her very life depended on it.
"Please do not weep," he begged her. "Please, Isabella. It is not so bad, I promise you."
"How can it not be so bad?" she sobbed. "You must not love me as I love you or you would not say such things!"
"I do love you," he whispered. "Isabella, I swear that I do. Please, just give it some time. I only desire what is best for you, but you must trust me."
"Why is it that you decide what is best for me? Should I not decide that for myself?" She loved him and hated him all at once. Why did he not offer to run away with her? Why was he giving in so easily?
He gently pushed her away, holding her firmly by her shoulders and gazing into her eyes. "Listen to me. You and I are very much alike. We are trained warriors and servants to the throne of Mirkwood. Sometimes sacrifices must be made for the sake of the kingdom, and though this one pierces my heart, I know that it is right."
She tried to gain control of her tears and nodded. "My mind understands, but my heart never will."
"The Elf who waits for you in your father's cottage has been my friend for longer than I can remember. We might as well be brothers. Please believe me when I say that he would never hurt you. I cannot blame him for loving you or for wishing you to be his princess."
"Calen…" she whispered, finally checking her tears and trying to compose herself. "I do trust you, but this will be the most difficult thing that I have ever done. The prince deserves a wife who loves him…. How can I marry him when I do not?"
"Time will tell," he replied, pulling her near again and kissing her gently. "Time will tell, My Love."
***
The prince was waiting for Isabella in the doorway of the cottage when she returned, asking if she would like to walk with him. Glancing back one last time to Calen who stood in the doorway of the barn, she consented and allowed the prince to take her hand.
The moon shone down upon them as they strolled slowly to the river's edge and sat upon a rock there. They spoke of trivial things – the weather, the tales told the previous evening around the fire, and other such nonsense. But Isabella could tell that something weighed heavily upon Legolas' shoulders.
"Your highness," she said softly, "Forgive me, but you seem rather burdened this night. Calen told me that you are leaving on the morrow. Is there trouble at Court?"
"Nay, Lady. The king simply misses his son's presence there and has asked us to return for a time. I will be glad to go, for I have missed my home."
She did not respond, but turned away as she fought back a sudden wave of tears. This did not go unnoticed by the prince and he took her hands gently. "Our departure saddens you?"
"Yes," she said. "I will miss the time that we spent together here."
His light blue eyes were full of kindness and love. "Would you like to come with us, Lady Isabella? What I mean to say is…"
The prince's voice trailed away and she smiled up at him bravely, refusing to let her tears fall. She bit her lip so hard with the effort that she tasted blood.
For a moment, he looked out to the water as if trying to gather his thoughts, and Isabella's heart went out to him. She knew he must be dreadfully anxious about the question he was about to ask, so she squeezed his hands gently in encouragement.
"Lady Isabella… I have grown quite fond of you over these past weeks," he said softly.
"And I you," she replied. It was not a lie for she truly had grown to enjoy his friendship.
A look akin to relief flooded his features and he continued, "I know this may seem sudden and perhaps a little bit impulsive. But you have captured my heart, Lady Isabella. And… and I would be honored if you would return to the palace with us." He paused as she looked blankly up at him and added quickly, "I would have you for my princess, Lady, if it would please you. Will you join with the Royal Family of Mirkwood?"
She tried to answer right away; tried, but no sound would come out of her mouth.
He took her silence as reluctance and gazed earnestly into her eyes. "I know," he whispered, "that we have not known one another long. But I do love you, Lady Isabella. In all of my travels, I have never met anyone like you. And… perhaps you could grow to love me with time?"
"Your Highness…" she finally managed, "I… Surely I am not worthy of such an honor. What will Mirkwood think of a princess who wears leggings and brandishes a sword?"
"They will love her," he replied, his eyes glowing with excitement, "They will love her just as I love her."
After a long pause, she replied so quietly he almost could not hear her, "Then yes, Your Highness, I will join with the Royal Family. I will be your princess."
His smile seemed to light up the night as he leaned near to kiss her cheek. "My heart rejoices in your answer, Lady. Please accept this token of my love."
She tried to smile as he slid the ring onto her finger; tried valiantly, at least, not to cry. A single tear trickled down her cheek, however, unnoticed by her companion, as they walked hand-in-hand through the chilly night back to the house of her father.
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 Emily (emi_kins@yahoo.com)
***START A/N*** A little history on Isabella's mom for those who are confused/interested: Liriliel came from a kingdom by the sea where she was a princess. There was an uprising and her entire family was killed, forcing her to flee inland with a small group of maidservants and guards. She ended up seeking sanctuary with the Elves of Mirkwood where King Thranduil granted her a title and a place to live in the palace for as long as she desired it. She was killed in a flood when Isabella was 16 years old. Hope that answers some questions! :) Also, I'm going on vacation this weekend, starting tonight, and I'll try to keep updating, but I'm unsure of the internet access so no guarantees. Check back on Monday/Sunday night. There will be more then for sure if not sooner. ***END A/N***
5.
Isabella would not be rushed back to the cottage where the prince waited. She wept bitter tears in Calen's arms, clutching him to herself as if her very life depended on it.
"Please do not weep," he begged her. "Please, Isabella. It is not so bad, I promise you."
"How can it not be so bad?" she sobbed. "You must not love me as I love you or you would not say such things!"
"I do love you," he whispered. "Isabella, I swear that I do. Please, just give it some time. I only desire what is best for you, but you must trust me."
"Why is it that you decide what is best for me? Should I not decide that for myself?" She loved him and hated him all at once. Why did he not offer to run away with her? Why was he giving in so easily?
He gently pushed her away, holding her firmly by her shoulders and gazing into her eyes. "Listen to me. You and I are very much alike. We are trained warriors and servants to the throne of Mirkwood. Sometimes sacrifices must be made for the sake of the kingdom, and though this one pierces my heart, I know that it is right."
She tried to gain control of her tears and nodded. "My mind understands, but my heart never will."
"The Elf who waits for you in your father's cottage has been my friend for longer than I can remember. We might as well be brothers. Please believe me when I say that he would never hurt you. I cannot blame him for loving you or for wishing you to be his princess."
"Calen…" she whispered, finally checking her tears and trying to compose herself. "I do trust you, but this will be the most difficult thing that I have ever done. The prince deserves a wife who loves him…. How can I marry him when I do not?"
"Time will tell," he replied, pulling her near again and kissing her gently. "Time will tell, My Love."
***
The prince was waiting for Isabella in the doorway of the cottage when she returned, asking if she would like to walk with him. Glancing back one last time to Calen who stood in the doorway of the barn, she consented and allowed the prince to take her hand.
The moon shone down upon them as they strolled slowly to the river's edge and sat upon a rock there. They spoke of trivial things – the weather, the tales told the previous evening around the fire, and other such nonsense. But Isabella could tell that something weighed heavily upon Legolas' shoulders.
"Your highness," she said softly, "Forgive me, but you seem rather burdened this night. Calen told me that you are leaving on the morrow. Is there trouble at Court?"
"Nay, Lady. The king simply misses his son's presence there and has asked us to return for a time. I will be glad to go, for I have missed my home."
She did not respond, but turned away as she fought back a sudden wave of tears. This did not go unnoticed by the prince and he took her hands gently. "Our departure saddens you?"
"Yes," she said. "I will miss the time that we spent together here."
His light blue eyes were full of kindness and love. "Would you like to come with us, Lady Isabella? What I mean to say is…"
The prince's voice trailed away and she smiled up at him bravely, refusing to let her tears fall. She bit her lip so hard with the effort that she tasted blood.
For a moment, he looked out to the water as if trying to gather his thoughts, and Isabella's heart went out to him. She knew he must be dreadfully anxious about the question he was about to ask, so she squeezed his hands gently in encouragement.
"Lady Isabella… I have grown quite fond of you over these past weeks," he said softly.
"And I you," she replied. It was not a lie for she truly had grown to enjoy his friendship.
A look akin to relief flooded his features and he continued, "I know this may seem sudden and perhaps a little bit impulsive. But you have captured my heart, Lady Isabella. And… and I would be honored if you would return to the palace with us." He paused as she looked blankly up at him and added quickly, "I would have you for my princess, Lady, if it would please you. Will you join with the Royal Family of Mirkwood?"
She tried to answer right away; tried, but no sound would come out of her mouth.
He took her silence as reluctance and gazed earnestly into her eyes. "I know," he whispered, "that we have not known one another long. But I do love you, Lady Isabella. In all of my travels, I have never met anyone like you. And… perhaps you could grow to love me with time?"
"Your Highness…" she finally managed, "I… Surely I am not worthy of such an honor. What will Mirkwood think of a princess who wears leggings and brandishes a sword?"
"They will love her," he replied, his eyes glowing with excitement, "They will love her just as I love her."
After a long pause, she replied so quietly he almost could not hear her, "Then yes, Your Highness, I will join with the Royal Family. I will be your princess."
His smile seemed to light up the night as he leaned near to kiss her cheek. "My heart rejoices in your answer, Lady. Please accept this token of my love."
She tried to smile as he slid the ring onto her finger; tried valiantly, at least, not to cry. A single tear trickled down her cheek, however, unnoticed by her companion, as they walked hand-in-hand through the chilly night back to the house of her father.