By: LadyoftheRings
Rating: PG-13 for violence. May go up to R in one chapter.
Feedback: LadyoftheRings35@hotmail.com
Spoilers: If you haven't read the Two Towers or the Return of the King.
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing of Middle-Earth or J.R.R. Tolkien's world or characters. Everything recognizable J.R.R. Tolkien's, all else is mine. I am receiving no money for this, and this story was written purely for enjoyment.
Summary: Few know that Legolas Greenleaf was born a twin, and that his twin Laurëmîr was enamored of the human race. But when tragedy befalls him, can Laurëmîr prevent him from killing the one she loves?
Series: None.
Other disclaimers:
Any spelling, date, place or character errors
are the fault of the author only and are totally by accident. I am not an
expert on Middle Earth and do not claim to be. Please forgive any
omissions or errors you might find.
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The Golden Jewel
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*~*Chapter Two*~*
I was a rebellious young elf, there is no doubt. And it was long years indeed before I could forgive my father for constraining me to the palace for five mortal years. After all, I was not one to be dominated by a mere king of the elves.
I was also devastated that my brother and I could no longer share a room (apparently our parents had decided this shortly before my little foray to Laketown) since it meant we could no longer talk late into the night.
I was irritable and short-tempered, and broodily silent around my parents. I think they believed I was going through a phase (they were wrong) and that eventually I would grow out of my wild adventuring (also wrong). It did not help that Legolas was smitten with a girl I considered to be a leaf-pated numskull.
The elf-girl was about our age, named Luinros. She was similar to Legolas in that she was a good singer, liked to read and write, and was wise beyond her years.
I hated her.
I hated her for taking Legolas away from me, I hated her for being prettier than me, and I hated her for singing better than me. I hated her because she was everything I wanted to be.
After Legolas' year of confinement was up, she and Legolas would go for long picnics in the woods, leaving me in the palace, alone and bitter. They would laugh and sing together, and during the festivals they danced together. Looking back, I could hardly begrudge the young couple their happy times. After all, just because I was miserable didn't mean everyone else had to be.
I think that if I had gone to father, told him I was sorry and that I wouldn't ever do such a thing again, he had have forgiven me and let me out on probation. But I was too prideful to ask for forgiveness for something when, in my mind, I had done nothing wrong.
And this was exactly why father kept me in the palace.
No one was surprised when Luinros and Legolas announced their wish to wed when they came of age. No one was unhappy or dismayed or hurt at the announcement. Except me.
Legolas no longer came to see me in the evenings. I do not think he realized until he was much older just how much I missed him. We were twins, after all. We had done things together since before we could talk. For me, it was as though my arm had been cut off. And even though we had a bond that allowed each of us to know how the other felt, Legolas was so happy he never felt my sorrow. He never saw me lurking in the shadows as he fed her a grape or she fed him a piece of bread. He never realized I hated Luinros more than the Dark Lord himself.
I was in my fifth year. I should have waited. I should not have done it. In two months I could have been free. But I was blinded by my anger and my hurt, and I did it.
I ran away.
It was a full moon. The stars were dim, a bad omen which I proceeded to ignore. I was no fool, and knew that the journey would take many days even on horseback. I was no good with a bow—another thing that lowered me in the eyes of my kindred—but I could wield a knife fairly well. I slipped out of the palace doors. I suppose my father took off the barriers that kept me inside the palace sometime and forgot to put them back on. I took as much water and food as my horse and I could carry. I did not ride; I put the supplies on my horse and ran in front of her. Then I rode north and never looked back.
I hated Luinros.
I ran through the forest for a long time, until long after dawn. My horse trotted behind me, snorting often when I would pause to walk for a ways. I was still in territory I knew, and watched the sunlight filter down through the leaves. The underbrush had mostly been cleared, leaving rows of trees in all directions, and a path before my feet. It was a dream come true.
By the end of the first week, however, I was tired and thirsty and hungry. So was my dear horse, so trusting and loyal. She followed me steadily, though her head drooped with weariness.
During the night I huddled near my horse and made no fire. In the darkness I could see many eyes come and go; but when I dared to sing my voice seemed to chase them off. I was lucky; I had no encounters with the deadly spiders.
"Maybe I have been foolish," I said to my mare. "Maybe I should never have left." She whiffed softly and nuzzled me. I stroked her face and closed my eyes. Mirkwood was dark here, and cold. I wished for sunlight.
Two weeks after I had left the palace I emerged, weary and sore-foot from the Mirkwood forest. My eyes widened at the sight of the Misty Mountains. I hugged myself.
"Freedom," I whispered.
I led my mare south where I knew I would find Beorn. I came to his house with high hopes.
The bees I heard first. I winced—they were huge—but did not swat at them. I was not that foolish. One of his ponies saw me and whickered in a friendly way, before trotting off to get Beorn.
He was huge. I gulped and stared as he leaned on his axe and watched me. I was tiny, and had no hope of escaping the hold of one so big should I ever be caught. I had forgotten that journeys always had some sort of obstacle to overcome.
"Well, little elf-princess," he growled. "What brings you so far from home."
"I seek adventure and the unknown," I answered bravely. I did not feel so brave. I felt lonely and, for the first time, a little scared. I wasn't sure what to make of the wide world.
He seemed to notice my uncertainty. "All right then," he muttered grudgingly. "Come inside." He offered me food and drink, and in return I told him stories. I stayed with him for two days, and then set out south for Lothlórien. I wished to meet the Lady Galadriel.
The road was, again, uneventful, and I found myself wishing for an orc ambush—anything to keep away the cold night ground and the long, boring days.
When I came insight of Lothlórien for the first time, I was in awe. It was a beautiful forest even from the outside, ranging far as the eye could see. I urged my mare a little faster.
Under the eves of the forest it was cool and welcoming. I found a stream and watered my horse. The leaves were golden and fluttered down around me. I looked about and laughed lightly. I was afraid no more.
An arrow thunked into the tree near my head and I jumped. "Doro*!" came the cry from above.
I jumped and froze as an elf dropped from the trees in front of me. He was tall and stern, imposing. I shrank back.
"What is your name? Speak quickly!"
"Laurëmîr, daughter of Thranduil."
A smile broke out over the elf's face. "Why, lady, luck is with you. Your father awaits you not far from here."
My heart dropped to my toes.
I was livid.
And terrified.
Father just looked at me when I was brought before him. "Five more years," is all he said. I screamed and cried and begged, but to no avail. Five more years of confinement. And I had been so close to freedom.
We returned, me fully subdued and father stonily silent. At home, Legolas was in his element. Hardly bothered by my disappearance, he fussed over Luinros like she was a dying rose blossom. I'll never understand what he saw in her. But what I did understand was he loved her.
He loved her like he used to love me.
* * * *
I do not believe, looking back, that I actually hated Luinros—what I hated was that Legolas liked her. I wanted to be the woman that Legolas looked up to, the woman he would talk to. I wanted to be that confided-in person, that wise counselor. It irked me that Legolas no longer needed my protection or advice.
It was a year and a half after my little escape to Lothlórien. My mother had finally stepped in before I went mad of boredom and allowed me to come to the feasts. I was sitting in a corner after dinner, watching Luinros and Legolas sit together, giggling like infants. I had a perpetual scowl on my face. Father said the room temperature dropped whenever I went into it. This did not improve my mood.
"Luinros, Legolas," my mother said calmly, ignoring my dark gaze. "Would you do us the honor of a song?"
Luinros blushed prettily, and that just boiled my blood. I thought several words I had heard humans speak, and stayed silent.
"Linnathon*," I said suddenly. I do not know what possessed me. I am a horrible singer, have been since I was born. I think I could not take that Luinros was getting so much attention anymore. I had to steal some back.
Father did not even glance at me. "You were not asked, Laurë."
"I wish to sing, father." My tone was cold, even disrespectful. Legolas glared at me. Luinros smiled indulgently and patted his arm soothingly. I turned a darker shade of red.
"Oh, lady," Luinros said kindly, "we know that you enjoy singing greatly but…ah…do you not think perhaps your voice is not…as refined as others?"
I came so close to saying or doing something violent to her that I do not even care to remember it. There are two things that elves consider attractive—hair and voice. My hair was not particularly thick or flowing or satiny. My voice was beautiful by a human's standard but nearly ugly by ours. I was plan of face and short of stature. I was not properly respectful or humble. I was the Strange Princess.
But I had a skill with comebacks.
"Why, no, Luinros," I said sweetly, "but my brain is more refined than some."
The Court was shocked; no one had any time to protest. Standing up, sending a prayer to Elbereth for good luck, I began to sing.
I instantly realized my problem. Most elf-women have high, striking voices. Mine was lower, closer to a man's. If I tried to sing high my throat hurt and I sounded awful. I dropped my voice an octave and sang my heart out.
To this day I have never sung again as I did then. I think I poured my heart and will into that song, that it must be good, or Legolas would never care about me again, and so it was. My voice filled the Hall, resonated on every wall, in every ear, through every heart.
I made the song and tune up. I had no idea what I was going to sing before hand but it came to me nevertheless.
Freedom comes in many forms
Swords and fires wielding
But how to find my freedom, friend
When freedom is unyielding?
What path doth thy take to find
The sorrows of the soul
What road oh must I find to see
My destiny unfold?
Where shadows fall there runs the way
To find out what I seek
Under darkened arches are
The ancient and the weak
If words can cry then mine now weep
For none call tell the tale
My world is shattered 'yond repair
My hopes and dreams are frail
But in the distance I hear the call
Of Freedom from afar
I come for thy, o ancient friend
To where the dream-souls are
There was a long silence. Everyone was shocked beyond all belief. Luinros looked faintly puzzled and Legolas looked annoyed. I smiled, pleased with myself.
"My lords, my ladies." I bowed. "I take your leave." I left the room smiling for the first in a long time.
*?*?*?*?*?*?*?*?*?*?*?*?*?*?*?*
*Doro = halt!
*Linnathon = I will sing, I will chant.
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