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Searching For the Sun
Chapter Three

as roleplayed by
Kabanas and Morgana

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Disclaimer: Legolas belongs to Tolkien, and we thank him endlessly for creating such a fascinating character. Laurëlómë belongs to me, and to Legolas. In our usual style, this was written in an RP format, with Kris writing Legolas while I wrote Laurelome. Anyone who knows me knows that I don't like RPing from books unless the RP takes place within a period of time not written about in the book. Hence, this story and it's subsequent chapters take place within "gaps" in the trilogy. We're taking liberties with Legolas here, but nowhere in the story does it say that he never had a relationship with anyone. Artistic liscence, anyone? :> This is a continuing epic...

Evening, Laurelome's talan, Lothlorien...

Legolas It's twilight, and Legolas has snuck out from camp. Guided by the light of the moon, the Prince of Mirkwood is devoid of his bow and arrow this evening. He was going to abandon it for the company of another. Through the tall reeds of the snaking inlet carving Lothlorien, he follows the sound of the tiny river downstream to a solitary treehouse.

Legolas Surely, at least twenty pairs of eyes followed him, but Celeborn's royal guards would have little say in the nobleman's business, whatever it was he was attending at Laurelome's. Swift and fleeting, he has soon scaled up the modest talan leading to her front step. Inside, he can hear her harp playing sweetly as birdsong.

Laurelome A pair of flickering lanterns bathe the inside of the treetop talan in a warm golden light, illumanting the autumnal hair of the Elven woman seated gracefully upon a seat, eyes closed and delicate fingers playing lovingly across the strings of her harp. The instrument itself was as beautiful as the music coming from it, fine ivory wood, bearing the same silvery sheen as the trees that made up the city.

Laurelome Mesmirizing to watch. The melody hanging in the air is an almost mournful hymn, as Elves are wont to be tellers of epic tales. The story Laurelome does not sing, but the emotions evoked by the chords are more powerful than any words that could be sung to this. Her visitor's silent footfall is drowned in her playing.

Legolas "Have you never been told Earendil pauses over Lorien whenever you play, Laurelome?" The Sidran prince was situated just inside her household, his smile polite not unlike the way he also stood. His voice was heard barely over her playing, but it was gentle in its tone. Familiar. "That is what I felt on the way here. Earendil's eyes."

Legolas motions behind him, into the lush moonlight, an appreciative smile and a hint of longing piercing the treetops. With seriousness more befitting to his character, he returned his tender gaze upon her. "Have I kept you waiting?"

Laurelome halts in her playing, though her eyes remain closed as Legolas speaks, as if appreciating the gentle rythm of his voice. "Earendil pauses over Lorien anyhow, Amarionmelda." Laurelome replies in the High Elven tounge, rising to stand with the quiet whisper of her amber-hued gown. Crossing the room, she leans up to place a light kiss upon his cheek. "You have," she adds, amusement coloring her smooth voice.

Legolas The frown creasing the archer's brow reflected upon his worry. Legolas was raised a gentleman--his concern easily fell prey to mockery. From women, for example. He wanted immediately to right his mistake, whether being late was an innocent offense or no. He'd never done this before.

Legolas With skill trademark of an archer, he enfolded her hand in his own and lead her into the wooden plank, the light filtering through the high trees swallowing their delicate figures. "Then I would be at fault if I was to squander your precious time any further. What marvel of Lorien will I be seeing tonight?"

Legolas For the past three days, he had done nothing but met her on rendezvous in this glade and given a tour of the whole of Lorien. However, Legolas kept quiet about enjoying every moment they spent together. These nights were important to him.

Laurelome allows herself to be led, and gazes up at the evening sky, Earendil indeed seemingly posed directly above Lorien. Turning to face him, her free hand finding his, she catches sight of something odd, and smiles slyly. "We need not seek out any wonders this evening, for it seems one has landed upon my doorstep. What mischevious Perrianath has gotten their sticky fingers on your bow, my love?"

Legolas While his Silme found humor in that, the Prince was all stealth and sharp ears. Always the vigilant archer. "None, for I have hidden it where no creature will fathom to look--beneath Master Gimli's feet." With some amusement, Legolas strolls with her down the bank, a smile crossing his lips. "Aphadarmme aen..." he whispered lowly, close to her ear. "We're being followed..." His voice is sweet as honey, and twice and potent. Around them, many pairs of eyes watched from the treetops.

Laurelome smiles at the mention of the Dwarf. Their friendship intrigued her. But as he said, it could be in no safer place. Upon his second comment her own eyes, gleaming light blue in the moonlight, catch sight of the voyeurs. Subtly, she turns down a different path, one which would lead through the forests and to the hilltop of Cerin Amroth, upon which the white flowers of Lorien grew. No patrol would watch from there.

Legolas In the city of eternal night, it seems odd a thing to hear the treetops stirring with such life. But Legolas was enchanted by the hum of activity here. Mystical noises followed their progress up the hill. Fleeting noises greeted them from the shadows. Even the green and silver colors predominant of the buildings seemed to sway with surreal movement.

Legolas She had brought him here before; naturally it was his favorite pocket of earth in Lorien. He was lead towards their favorite clearing, where he sat himself down upon dew-stained grass, and stared at the city below in appreciative silence. "What would you like to hear when next we meet?" His face was calm but adrift, thinking of their reunion already.

Laurelome settles on the grass beside him, legs curled under the hem of her richly-colored gown. She muses upon Legolas' question for a few moments. "I should like to hear of all the things you will have done by then, of your adventures, all the stories you will surely collect upon the way." She toyed lightly with his hand, her eyes gazing off at the rising moon. "I should like to hear that you still seek the sun."

Legolas A pleasant smile spreads on the prince's face, too wide to be hidden. He rests his tired head upon her shoulder. "You want me to seek the sun, and yet I would rather search for starlight." His arms settle one of her knees between them, hands interlocked and rested on her silken-covered shin. The moon and sun connected in harmony. "Will you look for me?"

Laurelome fixed her sea-blue gaze on the prince, a serious expression upon her defined elven features. "I will -always- look for you. Always." A slim hand came up to trail across his similarly elegant visage, to perhaps memorize it for those days ahead when she would watch the horizon and hope to see her beloved returning to her.

Legolas Always. For an elf, that meant eternity. Legolas never saw himself searching for love and yet, it found him. There really were no words for the simple pleasure he found in being caressed her. Just a look or a touch from her could break him. He felt warm thoughts in her presence, and though he was not rash by nature, this divine connection of their souls felt no less than a fated union. What power, this woman had. Her fingertips trailing upon the soft valley of his face alone could make him content as a sleepy child. He lay still, thinking seriously.

Legolas "Laurelome, I should like to tell you something… It has made my mind restless ever since Rivendell. I once thought I would visit the sea when my duties to the Ringbearer have been exhausted. I have never been, and yet I dreamed of seeing the white waves crashing upon golden sands long since I can remember. What would you say if I asked you to leave home and meet me halfway?"

Laurelome 's smile was adoring. Elated. "My love, I would then ask you to name the time and place, and I would be there. Looking for you." She held no alliegances so strong to her home that she wouldn't given them up willingly and go wherever this man beside her asked her to go. She had lived centuries without this sort of love, and now - she would go anywhere and do anything for him.

Legolas shared in her sentiment. Love in this time and age was a thing of rarity, even more so for soldiers. But when conventions were shattered, feelings bloomed, and rapture consumed an elf, it can be expected that the elf will hold on to love for dear life. Elves, by nature, fall hard during love and love deeply, loyally, lastingly. This Sidran archer was no different. His feelings for Laurelome were so consuming it threatened to change his attitude as a destitute, detached warrior forever. He knew now of his only weakness. It was her. Gently crawling onto his knees, he placed himself in front of Laurelome so their eyes could connect in that moment of pure happiness.

Legolas In the distance, the skies were pale gray but unbroken by the long trees that would otherwise mar their view of the heavens, which were pregnant with stars. They sat on the hill, two bright, silent figures, exchanging thoughts which could only be read in each other's eyes. And then, without warning, he leaned over and pressed his lips against hers. Lorien continued sleeping despite of them. Noises of the night grew more ardent in their singing, as if cloaking the lovers from the rest of the world with a private sonnet. Above the melodies, only one thing was uttered. "Melanenye," he whispered, and continued to kiss her. "I love you."


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Thanks to everyone who has begged us to write more!

~Morgana