Whew, finally updated! And lo, the slash begins!- morrigan
Idylls of the King, Chapter 3: A Fateful Morn
The next morning, Aragorn awoke alone, but someone had clearly visited whilst he was asleep. On the stool where Galadriel had sat now rested his cleaned garments, and a small table held a steaming tray of food. The king slowly rose from the bed, stretching, and was relived to find his head no longer ached. He noticed a washbasin and a mirror on a nearby wall, and he hurried over, splashing cool water on his face, then ran his damp fingers through his dark hair, trying to calm the mused strands. Upon inspection in the mirror, he found his gray eyes still held an air of tiredness, but the cut upon his brow had nearly completely healed with nary a mark.
He pulled off the sleeping robe someone had clothed him in, then slid into his hunting clothes, wishing he had something more formal to meet the elven king in. His stomach growled insistently, and Aragorn turned to the tray of food to find a bowl of broth, a handful of berries and nuts, and a cup of fresh milk. It was hardly a filling meal, but he had a feeling elven diets were naturally less hearty than the food he was used to eating, so he hurriedly ate, and was surprised that the seemingly simple broth held a complexity of tastes and spices.
Just as he finished, he heard a knock on the door. Knowing it was probably Galadriel, but still instinctively wary, he tensed and readied to fight if needed, "Enter".
The door opened to reveal the elven queen, clad in her usual white, but she wore an over-robe of heavy green velvet. She nodded her approval at his healthy and freshened appearance, and handed him a similar over-robe. "I am pleased that you fare well, King Elessar. I've brought you an elven robe, as it is quite cool this morning, and is perhaps more suitable, at least in your eyes, to an audience with my son".
"Thank you, Lady". Aragorn took the cloak from her with a nod, then shrugged it on.
Galadriel smiled. "Well, Aragorn, if you are ready, my son is waiting in the main hall". With that, she turned to leave, and motioned the human to follow.
Aragorn followed the elven woman out of the room, and through long stone passageways that were lit with torches and decorated with tapestries and murals. After a while, they reached a door that, unlike the others they had passed, was gilded with gold and silver. Galadriel rested her hands on the latch, gave Aragorn and encouraging smile, and pushed open the door.
He followed into a huge room, whose stone walls were polished and even, unlike the natural roughness of the corridors. The floor was tiled, and many candles hung from the ceiling in metal chandeliers. Plants, flowers, and even small trees grew in ceramic pots of soil, and fountains chimed with the musical sound of flowing water. Aragorn was so stunned by his surroundings; he scarcely noticed the elf that sat upon an ornate throne at the end of the room, or the other elves that stood at the foot of the dais.
"King Thranduil of Mirkwood, I am pleased to introduce King Aragorn Elessar of Gondor, who has fully recovered from his hunting accident and wishes to thank you for your good will". She announced, than said something in her own native tongue, probably the same introduction.
Aragorn tore his eyes from the beautiful ornaments and regarded the elven king as he followed Galadriel nearer to the throne. Her son looked even younger than his youthful mother, and had hair that fell like liquid silver around his ever-young face. His eyes were a light gray, and he was clad in a tunic, robe, leggings, and boots of white, silver, and green. He held a silver staff in his hand, and wore a crown similar to the one worn by his mother upon his brow. He looked back at the human was the same curiosity, then smiled, rising to come forward and clasp Aragorn's hand in a grip that betrayed great strength. "Welcome, Aragorn, to my realm! We are quite pleased to meet you, and hope you enjoy and learn much from your stay with us" Thranduil said, with an accent that was thicker than Galadriel's.
Remembering protocol, Aragorn kneeled to bow, and returned the warm greeting, "Thank you, your majesty. I have no doubt that my time among your people will be most pleasant and enlightening.
Thranduil smiled broadly, obviously pleased. He urged Aragorn to stand, and then beckoned for the other elves to come closer, "These are my children".
Aragorn turned to face the five elves that looked back at him with utter amazement shining in their clear eyes, all silver-colored like their father's. The three males and two girls were wearing wraps and robes of white silk woven so thin they glowed like moth's wings in the candlelight.
"The eldest, my daughter Isilvanar". The girl, or rather lady, who looked to be of twenty summers, stepped forward with a graceful nod, her poise and stature conveying her noble heritage and confidence. Unlike her siblings, she wore an elaborate circlet on her brow. Her hair was silver like Thranduil's, and her beauty was almost unnerving.
"The twins, Celeduil and Celedriel". A boy and girl came forth, both with gray eyes and light gold hair, two creatures that looked so alike that despite the difference in their gender, Aragorn knew he would have great difficulty telling them apart.
"Then my sons, Orbrindel and Thrandereth". Two boys, with silver hair and eyes like their eldest sister, bowed respectfully.
"And my youngest, it seems, is not here". Thranduil looked both paternally amused and regally displeased, and asked his children something in the elven speech. They shook their fair heads, and the elven king sighed.
"Can your children speak my language, your majesty?" Aragorn asked politely, although he too was curious where the youngest prince or princess was.
Thranduil shook his head, and replied, "Nay, except for Isilvanar, who was taught because she is my heir".
"Your heir?" Aragorn said before he could stop himself, surprised that a princess could inherit the throne. Then he thought of Galadriel, and admitted it wasn't so shocking after all.
Before Thranduil could respond, a door behind them opened noisily, and all turned to see whom the newcomer was. The elven king raised an eyebrow in reproach, his children grinned, and Galadriel smiled slightly. Aragorn however, was in a much different state, as his eyes widened and his breath caught as he looked upon the youngest royal child of Mirkwood.
The young elf was almost painfully beautiful, with delicate features and soft, carmine lips set against the snow-white ivory of his skin. His eyes, unlike all the others of his family, were a deep sapphire, flecked with glimmers of gold, and were thickly fringed with long, dark blonde lashes. His hair was like spun gold that hung in a silken curtain over his slender shoulders, and was licked with strands of silver that shone in the dim candlelight. The soft hair was pulled back from his face with an intricate pattern of delicate braids, revealing the pointed elven ears. Unlike his siblings, the lad was dressed in what looked to be hunting clothes, soft leggings of green, an embroidered white tunic belted over a thin white chemise, and thin doeskin boots that wrapped tightly around his small feet and were secured to his calves with gilded cords. From the slight flush on his high cheekbones and the faint smudge of dirt on his brow, it was obvious he had spent his morning in the wild, rather than readying himself for an introduction with the human king.
Said king was finding it rather difficult to take his eyes from the young prince, although he knew it was rude to stare so openly. And when the child smiled at him, amusement and wonder sparkling in the pools of his eyes, Aragorn thought he would be forever blinded from his brilliance.
He barely heard Thranduil's next words, as the elven king stepped forward and rubbed the smudge of earth off his son's brow, scolding him lightly in the elvish tongue. Galadriel then stepped forth, taking her grandson's elbow and gently guiding him to stand across from Aragorn, and spoke, "And this young one is Legolas. His name means 'green-leaf' in your speech, and he was named such because after his birth he reached not for his mother, but for the trees. It was he that found you, and tended your injuries".
Aragorn shook himself alert, then bowed low, hearing his heart thud in his ears. "I am honored and most grateful, Prince Legolas. I am also extremely sorry for startling you in such a manner whilst you aided me yester eve."
Galadriel translated his words, and then he heard Legolas laugh softly, his voice very light and sweet, sounding very much like the song of birds. He felt the prince's hand on his shoulder, urging him up, and shook his head in forgiveness. Aragorn returned the smile, then proffered his own hand in a sign of friendship. Legolas looked confused, and the King felt like a fool as he remembered that his gesture was a human custom. But then Galadriel placed the prince's hand in his, and Legolas smiled, a bit shyly, and returned his firm grasp. And thus the King of Men and the Prince of Elves were introduced, and as Galadriel looked upon their clasped hands, she closed her eyes, and felt both joy and grief as she glimpsed what was to come of their meeting.
A/N: Yeah, I know utter crappy sap, but I wanted to get it over with, because I'm really excited to write the next chapter. I'm thinking Aragorn will learn Elvish, and begin to realize he's in love (dreamy sigh)…and I'll explain the fate of Legolas' mother. Oh, and I have a question for you guys: do you want the whole Aragorn-learns-elven-lore-from-Galadriel to be included in detail, or do you want me to gloss over it? I'm one of those Silmarillion nuts who just loves to alter Arda history to suit their own purposes, so I'm well prepared to delve into the matter if wanted! Thanks a lot for reading, and PLEASE review.
If I get enough reviews, I just might post this one-shot Aragolas sappy, citrusy piece I have planned…^_-
Idylls of the King, Chapter 3: A Fateful Morn
The next morning, Aragorn awoke alone, but someone had clearly visited whilst he was asleep. On the stool where Galadriel had sat now rested his cleaned garments, and a small table held a steaming tray of food. The king slowly rose from the bed, stretching, and was relived to find his head no longer ached. He noticed a washbasin and a mirror on a nearby wall, and he hurried over, splashing cool water on his face, then ran his damp fingers through his dark hair, trying to calm the mused strands. Upon inspection in the mirror, he found his gray eyes still held an air of tiredness, but the cut upon his brow had nearly completely healed with nary a mark.
He pulled off the sleeping robe someone had clothed him in, then slid into his hunting clothes, wishing he had something more formal to meet the elven king in. His stomach growled insistently, and Aragorn turned to the tray of food to find a bowl of broth, a handful of berries and nuts, and a cup of fresh milk. It was hardly a filling meal, but he had a feeling elven diets were naturally less hearty than the food he was used to eating, so he hurriedly ate, and was surprised that the seemingly simple broth held a complexity of tastes and spices.
Just as he finished, he heard a knock on the door. Knowing it was probably Galadriel, but still instinctively wary, he tensed and readied to fight if needed, "Enter".
The door opened to reveal the elven queen, clad in her usual white, but she wore an over-robe of heavy green velvet. She nodded her approval at his healthy and freshened appearance, and handed him a similar over-robe. "I am pleased that you fare well, King Elessar. I've brought you an elven robe, as it is quite cool this morning, and is perhaps more suitable, at least in your eyes, to an audience with my son".
"Thank you, Lady". Aragorn took the cloak from her with a nod, then shrugged it on.
Galadriel smiled. "Well, Aragorn, if you are ready, my son is waiting in the main hall". With that, she turned to leave, and motioned the human to follow.
Aragorn followed the elven woman out of the room, and through long stone passageways that were lit with torches and decorated with tapestries and murals. After a while, they reached a door that, unlike the others they had passed, was gilded with gold and silver. Galadriel rested her hands on the latch, gave Aragorn and encouraging smile, and pushed open the door.
He followed into a huge room, whose stone walls were polished and even, unlike the natural roughness of the corridors. The floor was tiled, and many candles hung from the ceiling in metal chandeliers. Plants, flowers, and even small trees grew in ceramic pots of soil, and fountains chimed with the musical sound of flowing water. Aragorn was so stunned by his surroundings; he scarcely noticed the elf that sat upon an ornate throne at the end of the room, or the other elves that stood at the foot of the dais.
"King Thranduil of Mirkwood, I am pleased to introduce King Aragorn Elessar of Gondor, who has fully recovered from his hunting accident and wishes to thank you for your good will". She announced, than said something in her own native tongue, probably the same introduction.
Aragorn tore his eyes from the beautiful ornaments and regarded the elven king as he followed Galadriel nearer to the throne. Her son looked even younger than his youthful mother, and had hair that fell like liquid silver around his ever-young face. His eyes were a light gray, and he was clad in a tunic, robe, leggings, and boots of white, silver, and green. He held a silver staff in his hand, and wore a crown similar to the one worn by his mother upon his brow. He looked back at the human was the same curiosity, then smiled, rising to come forward and clasp Aragorn's hand in a grip that betrayed great strength. "Welcome, Aragorn, to my realm! We are quite pleased to meet you, and hope you enjoy and learn much from your stay with us" Thranduil said, with an accent that was thicker than Galadriel's.
Remembering protocol, Aragorn kneeled to bow, and returned the warm greeting, "Thank you, your majesty. I have no doubt that my time among your people will be most pleasant and enlightening.
Thranduil smiled broadly, obviously pleased. He urged Aragorn to stand, and then beckoned for the other elves to come closer, "These are my children".
Aragorn turned to face the five elves that looked back at him with utter amazement shining in their clear eyes, all silver-colored like their father's. The three males and two girls were wearing wraps and robes of white silk woven so thin they glowed like moth's wings in the candlelight.
"The eldest, my daughter Isilvanar". The girl, or rather lady, who looked to be of twenty summers, stepped forward with a graceful nod, her poise and stature conveying her noble heritage and confidence. Unlike her siblings, she wore an elaborate circlet on her brow. Her hair was silver like Thranduil's, and her beauty was almost unnerving.
"The twins, Celeduil and Celedriel". A boy and girl came forth, both with gray eyes and light gold hair, two creatures that looked so alike that despite the difference in their gender, Aragorn knew he would have great difficulty telling them apart.
"Then my sons, Orbrindel and Thrandereth". Two boys, with silver hair and eyes like their eldest sister, bowed respectfully.
"And my youngest, it seems, is not here". Thranduil looked both paternally amused and regally displeased, and asked his children something in the elven speech. They shook their fair heads, and the elven king sighed.
"Can your children speak my language, your majesty?" Aragorn asked politely, although he too was curious where the youngest prince or princess was.
Thranduil shook his head, and replied, "Nay, except for Isilvanar, who was taught because she is my heir".
"Your heir?" Aragorn said before he could stop himself, surprised that a princess could inherit the throne. Then he thought of Galadriel, and admitted it wasn't so shocking after all.
Before Thranduil could respond, a door behind them opened noisily, and all turned to see whom the newcomer was. The elven king raised an eyebrow in reproach, his children grinned, and Galadriel smiled slightly. Aragorn however, was in a much different state, as his eyes widened and his breath caught as he looked upon the youngest royal child of Mirkwood.
The young elf was almost painfully beautiful, with delicate features and soft, carmine lips set against the snow-white ivory of his skin. His eyes, unlike all the others of his family, were a deep sapphire, flecked with glimmers of gold, and were thickly fringed with long, dark blonde lashes. His hair was like spun gold that hung in a silken curtain over his slender shoulders, and was licked with strands of silver that shone in the dim candlelight. The soft hair was pulled back from his face with an intricate pattern of delicate braids, revealing the pointed elven ears. Unlike his siblings, the lad was dressed in what looked to be hunting clothes, soft leggings of green, an embroidered white tunic belted over a thin white chemise, and thin doeskin boots that wrapped tightly around his small feet and were secured to his calves with gilded cords. From the slight flush on his high cheekbones and the faint smudge of dirt on his brow, it was obvious he had spent his morning in the wild, rather than readying himself for an introduction with the human king.
Said king was finding it rather difficult to take his eyes from the young prince, although he knew it was rude to stare so openly. And when the child smiled at him, amusement and wonder sparkling in the pools of his eyes, Aragorn thought he would be forever blinded from his brilliance.
He barely heard Thranduil's next words, as the elven king stepped forward and rubbed the smudge of earth off his son's brow, scolding him lightly in the elvish tongue. Galadriel then stepped forth, taking her grandson's elbow and gently guiding him to stand across from Aragorn, and spoke, "And this young one is Legolas. His name means 'green-leaf' in your speech, and he was named such because after his birth he reached not for his mother, but for the trees. It was he that found you, and tended your injuries".
Aragorn shook himself alert, then bowed low, hearing his heart thud in his ears. "I am honored and most grateful, Prince Legolas. I am also extremely sorry for startling you in such a manner whilst you aided me yester eve."
Galadriel translated his words, and then he heard Legolas laugh softly, his voice very light and sweet, sounding very much like the song of birds. He felt the prince's hand on his shoulder, urging him up, and shook his head in forgiveness. Aragorn returned the smile, then proffered his own hand in a sign of friendship. Legolas looked confused, and the King felt like a fool as he remembered that his gesture was a human custom. But then Galadriel placed the prince's hand in his, and Legolas smiled, a bit shyly, and returned his firm grasp. And thus the King of Men and the Prince of Elves were introduced, and as Galadriel looked upon their clasped hands, she closed her eyes, and felt both joy and grief as she glimpsed what was to come of their meeting.
A/N: Yeah, I know utter crappy sap, but I wanted to get it over with, because I'm really excited to write the next chapter. I'm thinking Aragorn will learn Elvish, and begin to realize he's in love (dreamy sigh)…and I'll explain the fate of Legolas' mother. Oh, and I have a question for you guys: do you want the whole Aragorn-learns-elven-lore-from-Galadriel to be included in detail, or do you want me to gloss over it? I'm one of those Silmarillion nuts who just loves to alter Arda history to suit their own purposes, so I'm well prepared to delve into the matter if wanted! Thanks a lot for reading, and PLEASE review.
If I get enough reviews, I just might post this one-shot Aragolas sappy, citrusy piece I have planned…^_-