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)

27.

Elenath closed her eyes, relaxing into her grandfather's arms. How long had it been since she had allowed him to hold her this way, like a child? They were alone in her chambers, the cool evening breeze caressing their faces as he allowed his healing power to flow into her with softly spoken words and tranquil songs. He held her long after she felt no more pain; long after she felt the wholeness return to her; still singing, still speaking, still allowing his tears to fall, mingling with her own upon the silken couch beneath them.

She had tried to apologize, tried to explain what had happened, tried to tell him she did not deserve this treatment, that she had almost lost Calmakil, but he would hear none of it. "Dina, astalderamin. Cormlle naa tanya telraa es lle ume quell. Be silent, valiant one. Your heart is that of the lion and you did well."

"But Grandfather-"

"Dina. Dina, Elenath… You bring great honor to Rivendell. You always have." He smiled. "I will never forget the first time you came to me with a sword in your hand. You were only four years old and had snuck into your Uncle Thorondil's quarters and taken his weapon. The sword was as big as you were and you could barely lift it." Elrond brushed her hair away from her face and laughed. "I was meeting with Haldir, the Captain of Lady Galadriel's guard, and you marched right past the sentinels posted at my door."

Elenath remembered the incident as well. She had been trying to impress Haldir who was the largest, most noble-looking Elf she had ever seen. She thought at the time that she might like to marry him, and so she dragged her uncle's sword before him and held it high for just a moment, saluting him as she had seen Rivendell's warriors do. Then she had asked him to take her back to Lothlorien with him. The princess laughed at the memory. "What was it that he said to me, Grandfather?"

"He turned to me and said, 'I do not recall being introduced to this particular warrior. You must tell me who she is, for I fear she has stolen my heart.'"

"And then," continued Elenath, "I will never forget it. He knelt before me and looked deep into my eyes. And he said, 'You shall be a great warrioress one day, Aier Little One, and when that day comes, I will bring you white arrows from Galadriel's quiver.'" She sighed. "It makes me sad that I am not as great an archer as Haldir is. I fear that if we ever meet again, he will be disappointed."

Elrond's deep chuckle filled the room. "Nay, Child, for you have grown to be both beautiful and courageous, and your skill with the Sword is unparalleled to anyone of your age. He would not be disappointed. In fact, the old bachelor might try to sweep you away to Lothlorien as his bride if given the chance."

Elenath only smiled and remained silent, leaning her head against Elrond's shoulder. She had heard that Lothlorien was beautiful to behold, but it was in Mirkwood that she would make her home. Only, her grandfather did not yet know that.

"You need your rest," he said at last, standing with her and gently laying her in her bed. "Gandalf is waiting to speak with me, but I shall see you in the morning. I love you, my bright star."

"I love you too, Grandfather."

***

Legolas had never felt so happy or so complete. She loved him; had promised never to leave him willingly. The prince looked out upon the nighttime world of Rivendell as if for the first time, the energy coursing through him such that he could not rest. Elenath was perfect; so utterly perfect that sometimes he feared that she must be a dream – a figment of his imagination. He decided that he must see her and crept around the palace until he was outside her chambers. Silently climbing a tree, he looked in and saw her in her grandfather's arms, the two of them weeping and talking in hushed tones. He could not hear what was said, but their love for one another was obvious, and he looked away, ashamed of spying on them in such a moment. Instead, he gazed up at the stars and thought to himself with awe that they were not nearly as lovely or wonderful as she who now held his heart in the palm of her hand. Elenath. His strong willow.

Chancing another glance into her chambers, Legolas saw that Elrond had gone, leaving Elenath upon her bed. There she lay for many long moments until she looked over at the vase of laurel blooms beside her bed and bolted upright as if she had just remembered something.

They were supposed to meet this night, behind the waterfall.

Legolas remembered too, and was waiting for her at the bottom of the stair when she emerged from the house with Calmakil at her side.

Legolas' breath caught in his throat. Could it be that the exquisite creature before him was as enchanted by him as he was by her? Surely he was dreaming and would wake in Mirkwood when daylight came, for she gazed up at him with admiration bright in her eyes.

As he gently took her hand, he spoke. "I know now why they call you 'Elenath Starry One'."

She said nothing, but smiled, twining her fingers with his as they walked.

"The splendor of the stars pales next to the beauty that you possess."

Elenath's brow arched. She never had considered herself attractive at all. Her eyes were too large, her hair too wild, her figure too muscular. Many years had she spent with the warriors of Rivendell and never once had any of them called her beautiful. In fact, the only words of love ever spoken to her by anyone but her family had been the words spoken by Haldir, and he had only been humoring an erring child.

"Nay, my lord. 'Tis not true, the words that you speak."

"The prince of Mirkwood would never lie," he said, turning to face her. "And I say that you are beautiful; more lovely than any Elf-maiden I have ever seen."

She looked down at herself, wearing her comfortable tunic and leggings. What could he possibly see in her?

As if reading her mind, he chuckled. "You need not silks and jewels, willow. You are lovely just as you are."

"You would not ask me to change; to behave as a Lady?"

"I would not," he replied, gently pulling her behind a tree to kiss her. "I would not ask perfection to change."

She melted into his kiss, her arms slipping around his waist and pulling him nearer. Elenath felt that she could never be near enough to him.

"Besides," added the prince when they had reluctantly parted, "You are very much a Lady when the situation calls for it…. And every bit a warrior when you must be."

They leapt from rock to rock into the pond, climbing the rock wall and hiding themselves behind the waterfall where they embraced one another as if they would never let go.

***

"Elrond." Gandalf spoke slowly, as if he was carefully considering each word. "I wish to talk with you…"

The Elven lord smiled and motioned for the Wizard to sit across from him. They were in Elrond's library surrounded by leather-bound books and a good many scrolls, and a small fire danced merrily in the fireplace. "You know that my door is always open to you, my friend. You seem troubled. What is it?"

Gandalf sighed, trying to think how he could breech the subject without angering his friend and alerting him to the situation before Elenath did. "What would you think of letting Elenath leave Rivendell?"

Elrond shook his head. "I have discussed this with her many times, and she seems to understand. Rivendell is her home and she is needed here. In fact…" he paused. "In fact… I have been considering naming her as my heir."

"Elenath, heir to the throne of Rivendell?" Gandalf leaned back in his chair and lit his pipe. This complicated things. It complicated things quite a bit.