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)
43.
To Elrond, Lord of Rivendell
Contrary to your belief that I am heartless and cold, I am not an unreasonable Elf. If my son refuses to return to me without Princess Elenath, he must have good reason. I have pressing business to deal with in Mirkwood, but will respectfully join you for council within a fortnight of the day you receive this message.
For the love of all things sacred, Lord Elrond, do not allow my son to marry before my arrival. The friendship of our kingdoms hangs in the balance.
I have the utmost confidence that we shall find a solution to satisfy both of our needs in this situation while also respecting the wishes of our children.
King Thranduil of Mirkwood
Elenath cast her gaze upon Legolas. "Think you that there is yet hope, my love?"
"My father can be stubborn at times," he said, "but he does love and respect me. And as long as we both draw breath, Elenath, there is hope. Do not forget that."
***
"Hold still," said Merethiel, laughing as Elenath fidgeted in her chair. "Just another moment. I am almost finished. I swear you have the most unruly, difficult hair!"
"That is not the only thing about her that is unruly," commented Elrond from the doorway. "You would think I had asked her to hang up her Sword for good the way she resists."
"I have better things to do than to sit for a portrait, Grandfather!" Elenath grimaced as Merethiel pulled her braids a little bit too tight. "An entire day to be wasted! And what am I to do while I sit for the artist?"
Elrond shook his head and moved on as Merethiel leaned down and whispered into Elenath's ear, "I shall tell you what I plan to do, Cousin. I shall sit and smile and think of Haldir… and what we shall do on our wedding night!"
The sound that came from Elenath's mouth could only be described as a squeak. "Merethiel!"
She shrugged, giggling. "He says I am most lovely when I blush. You should think about Legolas. Then thousands of years from now our grandchildren will look at the portrait and wonder what we are smiling about."
Legolas. Elenath sighed, that familiar nervous feeling creeping into her stomach again. It had been nearly a fortnight, and still King Thranduil had not arrived. She wished more than anything that the council was finished. The fact that she knew not whether she would be dancing at her wedding or mourning the loss of her beloved in a few weeks' time was too much for her to bear. Besides, she was frightened. Never in her nearly one thousand years had she been afraid of any Elf, but the thought of King Thranduil storming in and declaring her unfit to wed his son absolutely terrified her.
"I should be out on the practice field with Haldir and Thorondil, working off some of this nervous energy," Elenath sighed.
"Calm yourself, El," Merethiel pinned her cousin's hair back away from her face, the same way Elenath had done for her. "At least if the king arrives today, he will see how much a lady you truly are. You look absolutely lovely."
A shy smile touched the princess's features. "Not nearly so lovely as you, my friend."
The two of them wore the dresses that Galadriel had given to them, dainty satin slippers, and silver circlets upon their heads. Their hair was arranged in thousands of tiny braids and adorned with precious stones to match their gowns.
A handmaiden appeared in the doorway and smiled. "The artist awaits you in the courtyard."
With a tremendous sigh, Elenath stood. "Let us go. The sooner he starts, the sooner he shall finish."
***
Elenath sat next to her cousin beneath a golden-green willow tree with her skirts arranged just so. The artist gazed at them, moved his canvas, and then gazed at them once more. "Please relax, Your Highness. Just act as if you are enjoying a lovely autumn day here in the garden."
"I should be enjoying this lovely autumn day on the practice field," she said under her breath as she shifted a little to pretend like she was enjoying herself.
Merethiel tilted her head slightly and laughed, much to the dismay of the artist. "Please, Lady, put your head back the way it was."
"I shall get a cramp in my neck if you force me to sit that way," she said jovially.
"Oh for the love of-" the artist checked himself. "Perhaps Lord Elrond would like an informal portrait?"
"That would be acceptable," said Elrond, looking on from the side with an amused expression on his face. "It is unlikely that you will succeed in anything formal this day."
"Very well, then, Lady; Your Highness… Just act as if I am not here."
Elenath's eyebrows shot up. "Truly?"
The artist nodded, and Elenath leapt to her feet. "Then to the practice fields I go!"
Elrond laughed and caught her in his arms. "Not so fast. Elenath! Go. Sit down you stubborn Elf-maiden! I shall summon Legolas and Haldir from the practice fields that the four of you might have a picnic. That should keep you in one place for long enough."
When the two warriors arrived a few minutes later their hair was slightly disheveled and each sported light bruises in various places. It was obvious they had been working hard. They took one look at the Ladies beneath the willow tree and offered to go change their clothing, which was slightly rumpled and dirty. But the artist was suddenly excited, as if inspiration had come down upon him.
"Nay, lords," said he, readjusting his canvas. "You are perfect just as you are." He nodded toward the Ladies. "Please. Join them. And then pay no attention to me."
The four sat and chatted for a long while as they ate, bantering back and forth as they usually did. Now and again, the artist would ask them to look this way or that for a moment, but for the most part, he left them alone. Hours later, just as the sun had begun to sink in the Western sky, silver trumpets began to sound the approach of a royal guest and Legolas and Elenath leapt to their feet.
"My father approaches," said the prince.
The artist stood up in desperation. "Please. Please I beg you. Just a few moments more. The light is fading."
Elrond nodded at them and they reluctantly sat, stiffly waiting for the arrival of King Thranduil in the courtyard.
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)
43.
To Elrond, Lord of Rivendell
Contrary to your belief that I am heartless and cold, I am not an unreasonable Elf. If my son refuses to return to me without Princess Elenath, he must have good reason. I have pressing business to deal with in Mirkwood, but will respectfully join you for council within a fortnight of the day you receive this message.
For the love of all things sacred, Lord Elrond, do not allow my son to marry before my arrival. The friendship of our kingdoms hangs in the balance.
I have the utmost confidence that we shall find a solution to satisfy both of our needs in this situation while also respecting the wishes of our children.
King Thranduil of Mirkwood
Elenath cast her gaze upon Legolas. "Think you that there is yet hope, my love?"
"My father can be stubborn at times," he said, "but he does love and respect me. And as long as we both draw breath, Elenath, there is hope. Do not forget that."
***
"Hold still," said Merethiel, laughing as Elenath fidgeted in her chair. "Just another moment. I am almost finished. I swear you have the most unruly, difficult hair!"
"That is not the only thing about her that is unruly," commented Elrond from the doorway. "You would think I had asked her to hang up her Sword for good the way she resists."
"I have better things to do than to sit for a portrait, Grandfather!" Elenath grimaced as Merethiel pulled her braids a little bit too tight. "An entire day to be wasted! And what am I to do while I sit for the artist?"
Elrond shook his head and moved on as Merethiel leaned down and whispered into Elenath's ear, "I shall tell you what I plan to do, Cousin. I shall sit and smile and think of Haldir… and what we shall do on our wedding night!"
The sound that came from Elenath's mouth could only be described as a squeak. "Merethiel!"
She shrugged, giggling. "He says I am most lovely when I blush. You should think about Legolas. Then thousands of years from now our grandchildren will look at the portrait and wonder what we are smiling about."
Legolas. Elenath sighed, that familiar nervous feeling creeping into her stomach again. It had been nearly a fortnight, and still King Thranduil had not arrived. She wished more than anything that the council was finished. The fact that she knew not whether she would be dancing at her wedding or mourning the loss of her beloved in a few weeks' time was too much for her to bear. Besides, she was frightened. Never in her nearly one thousand years had she been afraid of any Elf, but the thought of King Thranduil storming in and declaring her unfit to wed his son absolutely terrified her.
"I should be out on the practice field with Haldir and Thorondil, working off some of this nervous energy," Elenath sighed.
"Calm yourself, El," Merethiel pinned her cousin's hair back away from her face, the same way Elenath had done for her. "At least if the king arrives today, he will see how much a lady you truly are. You look absolutely lovely."
A shy smile touched the princess's features. "Not nearly so lovely as you, my friend."
The two of them wore the dresses that Galadriel had given to them, dainty satin slippers, and silver circlets upon their heads. Their hair was arranged in thousands of tiny braids and adorned with precious stones to match their gowns.
A handmaiden appeared in the doorway and smiled. "The artist awaits you in the courtyard."
With a tremendous sigh, Elenath stood. "Let us go. The sooner he starts, the sooner he shall finish."
***
Elenath sat next to her cousin beneath a golden-green willow tree with her skirts arranged just so. The artist gazed at them, moved his canvas, and then gazed at them once more. "Please relax, Your Highness. Just act as if you are enjoying a lovely autumn day here in the garden."
"I should be enjoying this lovely autumn day on the practice field," she said under her breath as she shifted a little to pretend like she was enjoying herself.
Merethiel tilted her head slightly and laughed, much to the dismay of the artist. "Please, Lady, put your head back the way it was."
"I shall get a cramp in my neck if you force me to sit that way," she said jovially.
"Oh for the love of-" the artist checked himself. "Perhaps Lord Elrond would like an informal portrait?"
"That would be acceptable," said Elrond, looking on from the side with an amused expression on his face. "It is unlikely that you will succeed in anything formal this day."
"Very well, then, Lady; Your Highness… Just act as if I am not here."
Elenath's eyebrows shot up. "Truly?"
The artist nodded, and Elenath leapt to her feet. "Then to the practice fields I go!"
Elrond laughed and caught her in his arms. "Not so fast. Elenath! Go. Sit down you stubborn Elf-maiden! I shall summon Legolas and Haldir from the practice fields that the four of you might have a picnic. That should keep you in one place for long enough."
When the two warriors arrived a few minutes later their hair was slightly disheveled and each sported light bruises in various places. It was obvious they had been working hard. They took one look at the Ladies beneath the willow tree and offered to go change their clothing, which was slightly rumpled and dirty. But the artist was suddenly excited, as if inspiration had come down upon him.
"Nay, lords," said he, readjusting his canvas. "You are perfect just as you are." He nodded toward the Ladies. "Please. Join them. And then pay no attention to me."
The four sat and chatted for a long while as they ate, bantering back and forth as they usually did. Now and again, the artist would ask them to look this way or that for a moment, but for the most part, he left them alone. Hours later, just as the sun had begun to sink in the Western sky, silver trumpets began to sound the approach of a royal guest and Legolas and Elenath leapt to their feet.
"My father approaches," said the prince.
The artist stood up in desperation. "Please. Please I beg you. Just a few moments more. The light is fading."
Elrond nodded at them and they reluctantly sat, stiffly waiting for the arrival of King Thranduil in the courtyard.
