A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who has taken the time to review! You're
all great. And special thanks to leiasky for pointing out that my flashback
takes place 600 years ago, and strangely enough, Aragorn is alive! Very
weird, I'll admit, but in my original draft of the chapter, there was no
Aragorn, just Arwen and Legolas. *sigh* Tolkien fanfic is so complicated.
So … I'll just have to modify the date a bit and say that this flashback
takes place around 160 years ago. Oh, and I haven't said this for awhile,
but I own absolutely none of these characters, nor am I making any money
off of this. In fact, I'm probably losing money, because I should be
studying or doing something similarly school-related. Oh well!
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The moon was high in the sky when Elrond stood up and announced that the next dance would be the last. Arwen was relieved – her crown of berries was beginning to wilt and hang in her eyes. She could sympathize with them. The heat generated by the crowd of Elves and the torches made her feel like wilting herself. She cast a longing glance over to the large floor-to- ceiling window. There was a slight breeze rustling the sheer curtains, and the moonlight shining in looked invitingly chill.
Legolas heard Arwen sigh, and saw her wistful glance. When the music began, instead of dancing, he pulled her over to the window and let the cool night air wash over both of them.
Arwen threw back her head and closed her eyes, letting the wind filter threw her night-black tresses. "Diola lle," she whispered. [Thank you.]
"Ta naa seasamin," he replied simply. [It was my pleasure.] "Besides," he added roguishly, "if I had not escorted you over to the window, you might have thrown yourself out of it to escape the heat."
Arwen opened her eyes and grinned up at him. "Did I look that bad?"
Legolas raised an eyebrow and reached over to pluck the drooping berry coronet from her head. "Yes," he said, smiling.
She laughed when she saw the shapeless mass of berries and tendrils in his hands. "I never did know when to quit. I suppose I owe you."
He shook his head. "Nonsense. It would be a fool who would not do the same." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he regretted them. He sounded like a love-struck fool spouting silly empty gallantries. No matter how earnest the meaning behind them, they inevitably sound stupid. He looked over at Arwen, and noticed with a sinking heart that she was staring at him quizzically.
Arwen did not know how to respond to his comment, so she turned to look out over the trees and rivers of Rivendell. What did he mean by that? she wondered. Eager to change the subject, she asked rather hurriedly, "So what have you been doing with yourself these past years besides learning archery and good manners?"
Legolas was relieved that Arwen decided to let it drop. To further draw her away from something he was not yet willing to reveal, he said in a mock-whisper, "I finally learned to ride a horse." His eyes glinted with mirth.
Arwen laughed. "How many years did it take?" she asked archly, giving him a sideways glance.
He shook his head. "More than I'd like to admit to you," he replied, a wry grin curling the corners of his mouth. It had been a point of contention between them in their youth that Arwen was by far the better rider. Legolas had a difficult time mounting a horse – he just did not see why such a beautiful animal should be forced to carry him. So when he was in situations that required him to ride one, he felt clumsy and ill-at- ease. It took many years and much instruction from Elrond before he was able to fluidly mount his steed and be comfortable upon it.
"I'll bet," she said. Then, after a pause, she added, "Are you doing anything important tomorrow evening?"
"Why?" he asked warily.
"I just thought we could go for a ride together," she replied innocently.
He stared hard at her, trying to see if she was up to anything, but she continued to look calmly at him. Finally, he agreed with a nod of his head.
Arwen smiled. "Excellent."
The dance ended then, and he escorted her out of the hall and up to her chamber. At the threshold, they stopped and turned to face each other, an awkward silence enveloping the moment. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but apparently thought better of it. He looked up at the ceiling and shifted his weight from foot to foot uneasily.
Watching Legolas's performance, Arwen felt torn. Part of her wanted to laugh, but another part wanted to scream in frustration. What was he *doing*? It was clear from his behavior of the evening that he liked her, but *why* was he hanging about if all he was going to do was memorize the ceiling pattern in the hallway?
She decided to go with the third option – putting him out of his misery. In a flash, she stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. "Sleep well, Legolas," she said. He started at the unexpected contact, and stared down at her with wide eyes.
"You are going to need all the rest you can get," she added mischievously, referring to the ride on the morrow.
He laughed. "I would not be so sure of that, Undómiel. I ride without saddle or bridle. I think I can handle a jaunt through Rivendell with your tired and over-domesticated horse."
"Tired? Over-domesticated?!" she echoed with mock-outrage. "Mind your tongue, Master Legolas. As I recall, your first ride lasted about ten seconds, and ended with you sitting in the road, and your horse galloping as fast as he could for the stables. You must forgive me, but they say that first impressions are the most important."
He grinned. "They also say that second meetings ruin first impressions."
For the second time that night, she was speechless. She had never been bested in a battle of wits before. He took advantage of the silence to kiss her hand, wish her a good night, and head to his room.
She stared in wonderment at the doorway where he had been standing. This new Legolas was not the lanky young rascal she had left behind. This Legolas was handsome, witty, and extremely talented, and … well, dangerous. She would have to be more careful. But how wonderful it was to match wits with a worthy opponent! Too many people were in awe of her because of her high birth or her beauty. It made everyone seem a bit … stifling, really. Legolas was like a breath of fresh air. Just be careful, she warned herself again as she drifted off to sleep.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
And so caution dictated the course of their relationship. They went out riding every evening, and they would talk, but she was careful that they talked of nothing but the commonplace. Sometimes, though, even the commonplace is too much.
One day an amazing thing happened. For the first time in 50 years, Elrohir bested Legolas in an archery contest. Even more amazing, Legolas did not seem to care.
"Are you feeling well, Legolas?" Elrohir asked, his brow furrowed.
"Er – yes, I feel quite well, Elrohir," he replied. "Why do you ask?"
Elrohir pointed the tip of his bow in the direction of the target. "I beat you."
Legolas barely glanced at it before saying, "Why, so you did. Well done."
Elrohir sighed. "It must be Arwen."
Legolas's heart lurched, but he forced himself to be calm and not betray anything. "Nonsense," he said firmly. "We both knew the time would come when I would have an off-day." He grinned.
Elrohir rolled his eyes. "You cannot fool me, Legolas. I may be young, but I am older than you, and besides, I have eyes. Eyes that see you paying court to my sister," he added impishly.
"I am not!" he protested.
Elrohir looked at him skeptically, saying nothing.
He sighed. "Is it that obvious?" he asked, looking uncomfortably out at the trees and mountains.
Elrohir laughed and nodded. "Oh, yes. I do not think that my sister objects, however."
"Really?" Legolas asked eagerly.
Elrohir laughed again. "She is still riding with you, is she not? Could you imagine her putting up with something she did not like?"
"I shall go talk to your father immediately," Legolas said, already walking towards Elrond's hall. "Thank you, Elrohir!" he called back over his shoulder.
"I'll just take your bow back for you, then? And your arrows? And I'll take care of the target, while I'm at it," Elrohir called after him. "Impetuous," he muttered under his breath.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
A/N: And there's the next part. Sorry it's so short, especially when you had to wait so long. I really admire those fic writers that can crank 'em out. When summer comes, I'll have more time. Maybe. Anyway, thanks for making it this far. And, as before, if you have suggestions, just hit the little box below and let me know.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The moon was high in the sky when Elrond stood up and announced that the next dance would be the last. Arwen was relieved – her crown of berries was beginning to wilt and hang in her eyes. She could sympathize with them. The heat generated by the crowd of Elves and the torches made her feel like wilting herself. She cast a longing glance over to the large floor-to- ceiling window. There was a slight breeze rustling the sheer curtains, and the moonlight shining in looked invitingly chill.
Legolas heard Arwen sigh, and saw her wistful glance. When the music began, instead of dancing, he pulled her over to the window and let the cool night air wash over both of them.
Arwen threw back her head and closed her eyes, letting the wind filter threw her night-black tresses. "Diola lle," she whispered. [Thank you.]
"Ta naa seasamin," he replied simply. [It was my pleasure.] "Besides," he added roguishly, "if I had not escorted you over to the window, you might have thrown yourself out of it to escape the heat."
Arwen opened her eyes and grinned up at him. "Did I look that bad?"
Legolas raised an eyebrow and reached over to pluck the drooping berry coronet from her head. "Yes," he said, smiling.
She laughed when she saw the shapeless mass of berries and tendrils in his hands. "I never did know when to quit. I suppose I owe you."
He shook his head. "Nonsense. It would be a fool who would not do the same." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he regretted them. He sounded like a love-struck fool spouting silly empty gallantries. No matter how earnest the meaning behind them, they inevitably sound stupid. He looked over at Arwen, and noticed with a sinking heart that she was staring at him quizzically.
Arwen did not know how to respond to his comment, so she turned to look out over the trees and rivers of Rivendell. What did he mean by that? she wondered. Eager to change the subject, she asked rather hurriedly, "So what have you been doing with yourself these past years besides learning archery and good manners?"
Legolas was relieved that Arwen decided to let it drop. To further draw her away from something he was not yet willing to reveal, he said in a mock-whisper, "I finally learned to ride a horse." His eyes glinted with mirth.
Arwen laughed. "How many years did it take?" she asked archly, giving him a sideways glance.
He shook his head. "More than I'd like to admit to you," he replied, a wry grin curling the corners of his mouth. It had been a point of contention between them in their youth that Arwen was by far the better rider. Legolas had a difficult time mounting a horse – he just did not see why such a beautiful animal should be forced to carry him. So when he was in situations that required him to ride one, he felt clumsy and ill-at- ease. It took many years and much instruction from Elrond before he was able to fluidly mount his steed and be comfortable upon it.
"I'll bet," she said. Then, after a pause, she added, "Are you doing anything important tomorrow evening?"
"Why?" he asked warily.
"I just thought we could go for a ride together," she replied innocently.
He stared hard at her, trying to see if she was up to anything, but she continued to look calmly at him. Finally, he agreed with a nod of his head.
Arwen smiled. "Excellent."
The dance ended then, and he escorted her out of the hall and up to her chamber. At the threshold, they stopped and turned to face each other, an awkward silence enveloping the moment. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but apparently thought better of it. He looked up at the ceiling and shifted his weight from foot to foot uneasily.
Watching Legolas's performance, Arwen felt torn. Part of her wanted to laugh, but another part wanted to scream in frustration. What was he *doing*? It was clear from his behavior of the evening that he liked her, but *why* was he hanging about if all he was going to do was memorize the ceiling pattern in the hallway?
She decided to go with the third option – putting him out of his misery. In a flash, she stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. "Sleep well, Legolas," she said. He started at the unexpected contact, and stared down at her with wide eyes.
"You are going to need all the rest you can get," she added mischievously, referring to the ride on the morrow.
He laughed. "I would not be so sure of that, Undómiel. I ride without saddle or bridle. I think I can handle a jaunt through Rivendell with your tired and over-domesticated horse."
"Tired? Over-domesticated?!" she echoed with mock-outrage. "Mind your tongue, Master Legolas. As I recall, your first ride lasted about ten seconds, and ended with you sitting in the road, and your horse galloping as fast as he could for the stables. You must forgive me, but they say that first impressions are the most important."
He grinned. "They also say that second meetings ruin first impressions."
For the second time that night, she was speechless. She had never been bested in a battle of wits before. He took advantage of the silence to kiss her hand, wish her a good night, and head to his room.
She stared in wonderment at the doorway where he had been standing. This new Legolas was not the lanky young rascal she had left behind. This Legolas was handsome, witty, and extremely talented, and … well, dangerous. She would have to be more careful. But how wonderful it was to match wits with a worthy opponent! Too many people were in awe of her because of her high birth or her beauty. It made everyone seem a bit … stifling, really. Legolas was like a breath of fresh air. Just be careful, she warned herself again as she drifted off to sleep.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
And so caution dictated the course of their relationship. They went out riding every evening, and they would talk, but she was careful that they talked of nothing but the commonplace. Sometimes, though, even the commonplace is too much.
One day an amazing thing happened. For the first time in 50 years, Elrohir bested Legolas in an archery contest. Even more amazing, Legolas did not seem to care.
"Are you feeling well, Legolas?" Elrohir asked, his brow furrowed.
"Er – yes, I feel quite well, Elrohir," he replied. "Why do you ask?"
Elrohir pointed the tip of his bow in the direction of the target. "I beat you."
Legolas barely glanced at it before saying, "Why, so you did. Well done."
Elrohir sighed. "It must be Arwen."
Legolas's heart lurched, but he forced himself to be calm and not betray anything. "Nonsense," he said firmly. "We both knew the time would come when I would have an off-day." He grinned.
Elrohir rolled his eyes. "You cannot fool me, Legolas. I may be young, but I am older than you, and besides, I have eyes. Eyes that see you paying court to my sister," he added impishly.
"I am not!" he protested.
Elrohir looked at him skeptically, saying nothing.
He sighed. "Is it that obvious?" he asked, looking uncomfortably out at the trees and mountains.
Elrohir laughed and nodded. "Oh, yes. I do not think that my sister objects, however."
"Really?" Legolas asked eagerly.
Elrohir laughed again. "She is still riding with you, is she not? Could you imagine her putting up with something she did not like?"
"I shall go talk to your father immediately," Legolas said, already walking towards Elrond's hall. "Thank you, Elrohir!" he called back over his shoulder.
"I'll just take your bow back for you, then? And your arrows? And I'll take care of the target, while I'm at it," Elrohir called after him. "Impetuous," he muttered under his breath.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
A/N: And there's the next part. Sorry it's so short, especially when you had to wait so long. I really admire those fic writers that can crank 'em out. When summer comes, I'll have more time. Maybe. Anyway, thanks for making it this far. And, as before, if you have suggestions, just hit the little box below and let me know.