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)
6.
Legolas Greenleaf's gaze drifted back and forth between Lord Elrond and Lady Merethiel, his future wife. The she-Elf was not happy, to say the least, and he could not say that he blamed her. To have been told of her impending marriage only a day before she met her betrothed must have been quite a shock.
"Merethiel," said Lord Elrond, "have you nothing to say to your future husband?"
"Indeed I do, Grandfather, though I've much more to say to you," she said angrily as she turned to the prince and curtsied low. "Your Highness, I cannot marry you. I am sorry. My home is here in Rivendell and I have no desire to leave despite my grandfather's assumptions that I would jump eagerly into your arms upon your arrival."
Legolas' brow furrowed as he nodded to the Lady. "It is I who should apologize, for it was my understanding that you would be told long ago of this arrangement," he shifted his gaze to the Elven Lord at his right, "and given the choice to abdicate your position as future Princess of Mirkwood. Apparently this was not the case."
Merethiel's eyes softened a bit at this. "Please understand, Prince Legolas. I have no quarrel against you, but as I have said already, I do not wish to leave Rivendell."
The prince waited for a moment, hoping that Elrond would speak, but the Lord of Rivendell had actually turned his back on them and stood looking out between the columns of the throne room into the Wood while taking slow, deliberate breaths. Legolas had seen his father do the exact same thing when trying to control his anger. "Rivendell is a beautiful place from what I have seen so far," said Legolas, hoping to diffuse the situation, "but Mirkwood is lovely as well, My Lady. Perhaps you would like it."
"No," she said, casting a defiant stare at Lord Elrond's back. "I am sorry."
The Elven Lord suddenly turned, his fiery tempter barely under control. His eyes were as black as coal. "Merethiel, I do not know what has come over you. Do you know what this match would accomplish? We have not had strong ties with Mirkwood for many thousands of years-"
Merethiel stood up straight and seemed to grow in stature. "And you want me to fix it! Do you have a problem? Just give it to sweet, lovely, lady-like Merethiel and she will take care of it! She has no feelings! She has no life! And the Valar forbid she have any preferences!" Her fiery gaze seemed to sear through Elrond. "You fix your own problems, Grandfather, and leave me out of it!" She poked a finger into his chest. "You are not going to use me like some… game piece… to achieve your goals! Why don't you pick on Elenath for a while? She wishes to leave Rivendell though you forbid it! Maybe you can make her life more miserable instead of mine and confine her to her quarters! Lock her up when she wants to be free and send me away though I wish to stay!" With that she turned as if to storm out of the room, stopping short as the doors burst open and a guard stepped in with the struggling princess in his arms.
"Put me down!" Elenath demanded. I've come this far and I can still walk!"
The throne room fell silent at once as the guard set her on her feet.
Elrond's face was crimson with anger already and it darkened even more at the interruption. "What is the meaning – "
Her knees gave out beneath her and she flopped into a sitting position on the floor. "Forgive me for interrupting," she said slowly, "I bring ill tidings, for there are orcs on the border Rivendell…" Her eyes glazed over as she began to waver where she sat. "Many… Thorondil… army…" she mumbled incoherently before her breath left her and she finally fell face-first onto the floor. She was still conscious but had not the strength to move or to speak.
"Elenath!" Elrond cried out, the angry red draining quickly from his face. He knelt beside her and gently removed the bloodstained cloak. "You are wounded! What happened?"
"Orcs," she whispered, gazing up into his eyes when he rolled her onto her back. Then she spoke the dreaded words. "The blade was poisoned."
"Let me see," he said, tugging at the hand clutching her shoulder.
"I am sorry, Grandfather… your meeting…"
"No meeting will take precedence over you, My Jewel. You are far more important. Now come, let me help you."
She slowly removed her hand to allow him access, and as soon as she did, blood poured forth from the wound.
"Can I help?" asked Legolas, drawing near as Elenath felt her grip on the waking world slipping quickly.
"Try to keep her awake," answered Elrond as he ordered attendants to bring medicines, water, and bandages.
He gazed at her with eyes bluer than the clearest autumn sky and spoke so softly to her that no one else could hear. "Alas, Lirimaer Lovely One," he said, "Each time I behold you, you are taken so quickly from me."
"Forgive me, your highness," she murmured.
He took her hands in his own, sending waves of warmth through her body. "Stay yet a while with me, I beg of you. We have not yet been formerly introduced. I am Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood." He bowed as best he could in his seated position.
Elenath smiled. "I am Elenath," she whispered, "Princess of Rivendell and Bearer of Calmakil. I am your servant, Prince Legolas."
Legolas. She could spend a thousand years gazing upon his fair face and never grow weary of it. Yet her heart despaired for she knew he was pledged to another.
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)
6.
Legolas Greenleaf's gaze drifted back and forth between Lord Elrond and Lady Merethiel, his future wife. The she-Elf was not happy, to say the least, and he could not say that he blamed her. To have been told of her impending marriage only a day before she met her betrothed must have been quite a shock.
"Merethiel," said Lord Elrond, "have you nothing to say to your future husband?"
"Indeed I do, Grandfather, though I've much more to say to you," she said angrily as she turned to the prince and curtsied low. "Your Highness, I cannot marry you. I am sorry. My home is here in Rivendell and I have no desire to leave despite my grandfather's assumptions that I would jump eagerly into your arms upon your arrival."
Legolas' brow furrowed as he nodded to the Lady. "It is I who should apologize, for it was my understanding that you would be told long ago of this arrangement," he shifted his gaze to the Elven Lord at his right, "and given the choice to abdicate your position as future Princess of Mirkwood. Apparently this was not the case."
Merethiel's eyes softened a bit at this. "Please understand, Prince Legolas. I have no quarrel against you, but as I have said already, I do not wish to leave Rivendell."
The prince waited for a moment, hoping that Elrond would speak, but the Lord of Rivendell had actually turned his back on them and stood looking out between the columns of the throne room into the Wood while taking slow, deliberate breaths. Legolas had seen his father do the exact same thing when trying to control his anger. "Rivendell is a beautiful place from what I have seen so far," said Legolas, hoping to diffuse the situation, "but Mirkwood is lovely as well, My Lady. Perhaps you would like it."
"No," she said, casting a defiant stare at Lord Elrond's back. "I am sorry."
The Elven Lord suddenly turned, his fiery tempter barely under control. His eyes were as black as coal. "Merethiel, I do not know what has come over you. Do you know what this match would accomplish? We have not had strong ties with Mirkwood for many thousands of years-"
Merethiel stood up straight and seemed to grow in stature. "And you want me to fix it! Do you have a problem? Just give it to sweet, lovely, lady-like Merethiel and she will take care of it! She has no feelings! She has no life! And the Valar forbid she have any preferences!" Her fiery gaze seemed to sear through Elrond. "You fix your own problems, Grandfather, and leave me out of it!" She poked a finger into his chest. "You are not going to use me like some… game piece… to achieve your goals! Why don't you pick on Elenath for a while? She wishes to leave Rivendell though you forbid it! Maybe you can make her life more miserable instead of mine and confine her to her quarters! Lock her up when she wants to be free and send me away though I wish to stay!" With that she turned as if to storm out of the room, stopping short as the doors burst open and a guard stepped in with the struggling princess in his arms.
"Put me down!" Elenath demanded. I've come this far and I can still walk!"
The throne room fell silent at once as the guard set her on her feet.
Elrond's face was crimson with anger already and it darkened even more at the interruption. "What is the meaning – "
Her knees gave out beneath her and she flopped into a sitting position on the floor. "Forgive me for interrupting," she said slowly, "I bring ill tidings, for there are orcs on the border Rivendell…" Her eyes glazed over as she began to waver where she sat. "Many… Thorondil… army…" she mumbled incoherently before her breath left her and she finally fell face-first onto the floor. She was still conscious but had not the strength to move or to speak.
"Elenath!" Elrond cried out, the angry red draining quickly from his face. He knelt beside her and gently removed the bloodstained cloak. "You are wounded! What happened?"
"Orcs," she whispered, gazing up into his eyes when he rolled her onto her back. Then she spoke the dreaded words. "The blade was poisoned."
"Let me see," he said, tugging at the hand clutching her shoulder.
"I am sorry, Grandfather… your meeting…"
"No meeting will take precedence over you, My Jewel. You are far more important. Now come, let me help you."
She slowly removed her hand to allow him access, and as soon as she did, blood poured forth from the wound.
"Can I help?" asked Legolas, drawing near as Elenath felt her grip on the waking world slipping quickly.
"Try to keep her awake," answered Elrond as he ordered attendants to bring medicines, water, and bandages.
He gazed at her with eyes bluer than the clearest autumn sky and spoke so softly to her that no one else could hear. "Alas, Lirimaer Lovely One," he said, "Each time I behold you, you are taken so quickly from me."
"Forgive me, your highness," she murmured.
He took her hands in his own, sending waves of warmth through her body. "Stay yet a while with me, I beg of you. We have not yet been formerly introduced. I am Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood." He bowed as best he could in his seated position.
Elenath smiled. "I am Elenath," she whispered, "Princess of Rivendell and Bearer of Calmakil. I am your servant, Prince Legolas."
Legolas. She could spend a thousand years gazing upon his fair face and never grow weary of it. Yet her heart despaired for she knew he was pledged to another.
