Baidyanith's dreams forced her to live once more through the hardships of latter eves events. Through the hardship of a battle of reckless hatred. Through the hostility of helplessness. She cringed in her sleep. Images of broken hope and forever lost seeped into her mind.
The wound would have never come about if Baidyanith would have stayed behind. But the rumor of a fellowship from afar had tainted her senses and the word of an Elf, adored from just as away took her in whole.
With servant beside, Baidyanith moved amongst the forlorn forest of Fangorn. Stories of old wept from the trees, and the sound of metal lingered in the background.
"He must be about, for stories tell that if a battle persists, the fair Legolas will be abroad." Baidyanith said smiling. Her cream fairing gown fought with the wind as she reared her winged steed ever nearer.
"Why is it that this Elf is so important to you Mistress? He is beneath you and your Ada will not agree…." Her male servant implied keeping astride easily.
"He does not agree with many things I have done, and would not agree with many things he has yet to learn of." Baidyanith stated smirking. Since childhood has she heard of the Great Prince of Mirkwood. He was tall, valiant, beautiful, and rebellious. Such a combination worthy of a king. A crush from a distance that earned her much ridicule from her peers, for longing for an Elf: The underbelly of the Fae realm. She pushed forward still, in hopes of a meeting.
"In any matter, Valic, son of Marain, how dare you question the actions I partake in. You are nothing more than a friend and a boy jealous of a man."
She sneered slowing her pace at the sign of the forest fell. Valic groaned pulling near. Slowly the pair stopped, eyes roaming the outskirts of Fangorn. The stench of decay hung low over the once fragrant outdoor.
"What has happened…?" Baidyanith gasped. The hand upon her stomach rose quickly to her throat as bile eased upward.
"Your battle." Valic remarked. Anger barely controlled. Brow furrowed. "..Mistress."
"The scent of death is heavy- I fear we are too late for the forest. Mayhaps not for those who played rolls on to it." With those words Baidyanith took to speed and fell as quickly.
The sound of arrows came from the four corners of the forest as she rolled on to her side. The world fell silent, but watchful eyes gazed forth. Servants dropped like heavy platelets of rain, blood covered and arrow filled in arms reach. Orci and Troll stalked into the foreground destroying the Earth beneath. Nothing was safe or left untouched by their hate. Baidyanith blinked blankly. She did not understand why beasts such as these would destroy something as innocent as the wood.
"Take not boys- No Elf will pass without meeting this fate! Take as you will and leave nothing with out thought. A message will be left for the man flesh behind." The Orc growled loudly releasing a sense of victory into the dusted night's air.
Baidyanith tensed. She knew not what to be feared more, dying by the arrow that pierced her breast… or by the maggot drenched hand of the slayers.
"Her hair… would makes a nice coat for the winter, for the shadow fills the body with chill." Snubbed a troll as he grappled her head by the hair. "She has fallen- no need for it now." He breathed his breath as vile as rot left for days. Grime oozed from his features.
"Yes." He grinned.
"A coat." With his bile filled words, a dagger unsheathed, he swiped it through trestled autumn destroying that which was beautiful and leaving it layered about her chin.
The left lingering energy burst from her as she leapt from her feet. The sound of horse hooves leaked into the open night as Orci and Troll alike fell. He who possessed her hair swayed his arms about her as arrows filtered his spine.
Men atop of horses invaded the wood. Another battle had begun. In fear Baidyanith ran, the pain of the arrow subsided momentarily as she pushed blindly into the shadow.
She awoke with a start. Arms encircled her and the embers of a fire lost blared soft into the night. Slowly she moved her head back. Open eyed and solemn laid the Elf man that kept her. His blond hair covered over wound and about her chest. His embrace was fit but kind as both rest vertically on side.
She laid her hand about his own moving it ever so softly as not to wake him Inch by inch she wriggled from his grasp, all the while holding her breath.
Legolas smiled lightly. Long since had he been awake and her actions were amusing.
"Would you leave me without saying good bye?" He whispered into her ear, blinking rest from his eyes.
Baidyanith jerked from him and turned.
"What is your name Master Elf?"
He sat a bit, leaning back on his elbow.
"I am Legolas, Son of Thanduill, and Prince of Mirkwood." He bowed his head politely.
"But it seems that I am not the only Elf in the wood."
"Legolas…" She flustered trying to straighten herself. "I fear that I know not what you mean. I am no Elf and nor do I sense another..." She whispered looking him over. At long last the man sought was in sight and speaking so delicately.
"You are mistaken... fair one." He sat up further, his eyes filled with sorrow. "Your wings.. Once you came upon our fire, a Mordorien arrow was revealed. No longer are you Fae- as your birth right proclaims but Elf, same as I."
Her eyes revealed the confusion she with held, she began to tear as her hand searched her back to find blood stained emptiness.
"It cannot be.. How was this trickery done?" She sighed as she looked to her companion for an answer unbeknownst to her.
Caution filled he slid her hand into his own. His eyes gazing upon beautiful, innocent features that appeared as if just setting eyes on the cruelty of the world.
"When you were took victim, the arrow contained a poison which took effect as it entered your breast. It began to kill your heritage, stealing you from the grace of Fae and descending you to an Elf." The words pained him as they rippled over his tongue. They were sour, undeserving, and unforgiving to the maiden abroad.
Too in depth to speak Baidyanith once more laid her head against his chest, wincing in brief from the wounded pain. Barely awake she found comfort there once, mayhaps it would assist her once more. The nightmare had become reality. She was a fae no more.