"Great shot, Kaytlyn!" exclaimed Menuel. "The Prince of Mirkwood couldn't
have done any better."
Kaytlyn Clearpool shook her head and let out a tinkling laugh, "Oh, Menuel! You tease me too much. I am just an elf maiden. I couldn't be nearly as good as Prince Legolas."
But, Minuel was, in fact, speaking the truth. Since Legolas Greenleaf, Prince of Mirkwood, had left the forest on his quest, Kaytlyn Clearpool had quickly risen to the status of best archer in the wood. Unfortunately, due to the antiquated customs of Mirkwood forest, Kaytlyn was denied honour for her skill, all because she was a woman.
"We'll just have to see about that, Tinkerbell." Tinkerbell had been Menuel's pet name for Kaytlyn since they were first introduced as small children. Minuel thought that Katlyn's lovely laugh sounded like a tinkling silver bell and told her so, and the name had stuck for all the years.
Many of the elder elves thought it unseemly that an elf-maid of noble birth had a he-elf for a best friend. But from a young age Kaytlyn had scorned the activities that typical elf maidens enjoyed. She never liked fancy dresses because she never felt pretty enough to do the lovely elf dresses justice. She didn't feel comfortable putting on make-up and she never did anything with her hair except wear it long and straight. "Besides," she thought, "All the boy elves besides Minuel would never want to date me. The think it is unladylike to shoot the bow. Even if I was pretty, they still wouldn't like me."
Kaytlyn was completely wrong. She was the most beautiful of the elves in Mirkwood forest, though she did not know it. Her long, raven-black hair was not over-treated and damaged like so many of the elf maidens'. It flowed down her back like a smooth ebony waterfall, so shiny that it reflected the stars in the sky. Her skin was also very beautiful. Like her elven friends and relatives, her skin was as pale as starlight, but hers seemed to glow like no other. Menuel often joked that he could find her in the dark by the soft luminescence of her pale, eggshell skin.
But her most striking feature was slightly disconcerting to those who knew elves. Her eyes, framed by thick, coal-black eyelashes were the softest shade of lavender. When Kaytlyn looked at someone with her piercing dusky- lavender eyes, and arched a questioning jet-black eye brow, they quickly quailed, and told her what she needed to know. Even when her eyes turned dark in fear or anger, they were like obsidian pools floating on a perfectly spherical coffee bean. The greatest thing about Kaytlyn's eyes, unlike any other elf, was that when she was extremely happy, they turned a gorgeous silver colour, not the ashy grey that was actually quite common among wood elves, but a shining silver, almost the colour of dwarven mithril.
Menuel gently grabbed and shook Kaytlyn's shoulder, bringing her out of her self-deprecating reverie. "Oh! Sorry, Minuel. What were you saying?" She asked sheepishly, embarrassed that he had caught her mentally cataloguing all of her faults. 'It was a good thing he couldn't read minds,' she thought as a rosy blush spread across her arched cheekbones.
"I said," Minuel started to repeat himself," "I said, 'We'll just have to see about that, Tinkerbell.' But since you weren't paying attention, I won't tell you what I was talking about." He smiled, his grin breaking up his plain but agreeable face.
"Oh, come on, tell me, Menuel. I'm sorry I wasn't paying attention."
"Nope. Can't do it. Won't do it. If I'm not as important as your silly daydreams, I won't tell you about my piece of news that came directly from my brother."
Kaytlyn gasped. Menuel's brother Bilivel was an assistant to the King of Mirkwood, and any news that came from him was likely to be important and interesting. She wondered if it had anything to do with the War of Men. They had recently learned that the halfling, Frodo Baggins, had been successful in his campaign to destroy the ring of power, and there had been much rejoicing in the forest of Mirkwood. She wondered if it had something to do with that. 'Oh, no!' she thought, 'Perhaps Prince Legolas had been hurt!'
Kaytlyn hadn't had much contact with the future King of their forest. She wasn't important enough to be in the many meetings he attended, and, as a girl, she hadn't been included in his group of friends. It was true, though, that many of the elf maids around her age had seen Prince Legolas many times and knew many things about him, like the colours he preferred to wear, and his favorite foods, and where he sat at all the important counsels. Following about after he-elves was never high on Kaytlyn's list of priorities, so consequently she knew little about him.
She did have one experience with the graceful prince, and if any of the young elf maidens had known about it, they would have fainted in a jealous tiff, but not having made a career of finding out about Legolas, Kaytlyn didn't realize how rare her encounter was.
One night, not long before Legolas had left on his mystical and dangerous quest, Kaytlyn had been unable to sleep. It had been an awful week. Her father was pressuring her to settle down and act more like a maiden, Maliwen and Alliwel, sisters about her own age had made fun of her hair which was windblown from riding, and, worst of all, it was the five year anniversary of the death of her mother. Kaytlyn had been unable to sleep, so she saddled up Wind, her horse, and rode to her favourite spot in the forest.
Very few elves knew about the spot Kaytlyn had come upon accidentally nearly two hundred years before. Surrounded by a ring of tight trees was an emerald green plain cut through with a stream that bubbled ever on. For many years it had been her special place. Whenever she had a problem, she rode out there and all her troubles seemed to slip away in the verdant field. Her cares were massaged away by the bubbling sound the brook made when in skipped over rocks. She had even set up a target so she could practice her archery in her favorite place.
That was what she was doing that fateful night, when Legolas, his heart heavy with the cares that now burdened his young (for an elf) heart. From far, far away, the blond elf began to hear the rhythmic twang-thunk of a skilled archer practicing his craft. Still far away from where Kaytlyn was shooting, Legolas caught a glint of her peaceful eyes, refracting the star and moonlight, the colour of liquid starlight, the elusive mithril.
Legolas quickened his horse toward the clearing. He had to investigate these strange occurrences. His alabaster silently broke through a gap in the trees, and he reined it in as he saw the most beautiful sight he had ever set eyes upon. It was an elven maiden, who had such grace with a bow he had never seen. Her delicately strong arms glinted in the moonlight as they pulled back and released another arrow. Her loose, yet clingy, lilac- coloured dress flowed out behind her in the gentle breeze, and the moon's glow served to outline her supple curves in a pearlescent glow.
It was not just her outer beauty that attracted the flaxen-haired elf. What really caught his eyes was the gentle way she cradled her bow. He immediately knew that this elf maiden, whoever she was, was also a lover of his art. He suddenly realized that it was her eyes that had caught his attention. He had never seen eyes of that colour, he knew that this elf was different and he must meet this maiden.
Kaytlyn had been so focused on her arrow that she had not heard Legolas approaching. Suddenly, she heard the snap of a twig and immediately swung her bow towards the source of the sound. She was immensely surprised to see the Prince sitting atop his horse with a gentle smile upon his face. "Peace, my lady," he began.
Kaytlyn looked hurriedly around for her horse. She felt so ashamed for being caught late at night participating in unladylike activities. And a member of the royal family, no less!
"Do not worry. I will not harm you. I am simply stunned to find someone who obviously loves the bow as much as I. Especially a maiden like yourself." Kaytlyn was still too stunned to speak. "Please, lady, tell me your name. I have a gift for you." With that, he pulled an arrow out of his own quiver, kissed it, and handed it to Kaytlyn. The elf maiden took his gift and quickly thrust it in her own quiver, still shocked.
Without warning, Kaytlyn's horse cantered up next to her. She quickly mounted and encouraged her horse towards home; turning her graceful head back for one more stunned look at Legolas. As her horse galloped out of the clearing, Legolas shook his long, fair hair and whispered, "Ea seere, iirima mir." Legolas turned his horse in the opposite direction as Kaytlyn and left before the last word of his blessing had even stopped echoing.
These many months later, Kaytlyn was still ashamed by her nighttime meeting with the prince, though she treasured her arrow. 'He must think most poorly of me,' she thought as she walked by Menual. 'Imagine, an elf maiden shooting arrows in front of the prince of all Mirkwood. She genuinely hoped he hadn't been hurt, but no, Menuel's tone had been much too light-hearted for anything too serious. Kaytlyn suddenly realized that she hadn't been listening to Menuel for some time now, and she hoped he hadn't noticed she'd been ignoring him yet again.
Luckily, he seemed to think her silence was because of his refusal to share Bilivel's news. "Well," he began, "if you're not going to talk to me otherwise, I guess I better share the news."
"Yes?" Kaytlyn asked eagerly.
"Well, Bilivel said that the King just got word that Legolas is returning home soon, and he's completely fine!"
"Oh, that's wonderful!" Kaytlyn said, and then she silently thanked the Valar for their grace.
"And the best thing is, that to celebrate his return there's going to be a feast. And an archery contest. I know that archery contests usually depress you, because you can't participate, but for this one, I have a plan to get you in. And I know that you can win. If you do, maybe you will convince the King and the other elders that maidens have just the abilities of men. Here's the plan." Menuel leaned in and began to whisper in Kaytlyn's ear, and as he did a smile spread across her lovely face.
Kaytlyn Clearpool shook her head and let out a tinkling laugh, "Oh, Menuel! You tease me too much. I am just an elf maiden. I couldn't be nearly as good as Prince Legolas."
But, Minuel was, in fact, speaking the truth. Since Legolas Greenleaf, Prince of Mirkwood, had left the forest on his quest, Kaytlyn Clearpool had quickly risen to the status of best archer in the wood. Unfortunately, due to the antiquated customs of Mirkwood forest, Kaytlyn was denied honour for her skill, all because she was a woman.
"We'll just have to see about that, Tinkerbell." Tinkerbell had been Menuel's pet name for Kaytlyn since they were first introduced as small children. Minuel thought that Katlyn's lovely laugh sounded like a tinkling silver bell and told her so, and the name had stuck for all the years.
Many of the elder elves thought it unseemly that an elf-maid of noble birth had a he-elf for a best friend. But from a young age Kaytlyn had scorned the activities that typical elf maidens enjoyed. She never liked fancy dresses because she never felt pretty enough to do the lovely elf dresses justice. She didn't feel comfortable putting on make-up and she never did anything with her hair except wear it long and straight. "Besides," she thought, "All the boy elves besides Minuel would never want to date me. The think it is unladylike to shoot the bow. Even if I was pretty, they still wouldn't like me."
Kaytlyn was completely wrong. She was the most beautiful of the elves in Mirkwood forest, though she did not know it. Her long, raven-black hair was not over-treated and damaged like so many of the elf maidens'. It flowed down her back like a smooth ebony waterfall, so shiny that it reflected the stars in the sky. Her skin was also very beautiful. Like her elven friends and relatives, her skin was as pale as starlight, but hers seemed to glow like no other. Menuel often joked that he could find her in the dark by the soft luminescence of her pale, eggshell skin.
But her most striking feature was slightly disconcerting to those who knew elves. Her eyes, framed by thick, coal-black eyelashes were the softest shade of lavender. When Kaytlyn looked at someone with her piercing dusky- lavender eyes, and arched a questioning jet-black eye brow, they quickly quailed, and told her what she needed to know. Even when her eyes turned dark in fear or anger, they were like obsidian pools floating on a perfectly spherical coffee bean. The greatest thing about Kaytlyn's eyes, unlike any other elf, was that when she was extremely happy, they turned a gorgeous silver colour, not the ashy grey that was actually quite common among wood elves, but a shining silver, almost the colour of dwarven mithril.
Menuel gently grabbed and shook Kaytlyn's shoulder, bringing her out of her self-deprecating reverie. "Oh! Sorry, Minuel. What were you saying?" She asked sheepishly, embarrassed that he had caught her mentally cataloguing all of her faults. 'It was a good thing he couldn't read minds,' she thought as a rosy blush spread across her arched cheekbones.
"I said," Minuel started to repeat himself," "I said, 'We'll just have to see about that, Tinkerbell.' But since you weren't paying attention, I won't tell you what I was talking about." He smiled, his grin breaking up his plain but agreeable face.
"Oh, come on, tell me, Menuel. I'm sorry I wasn't paying attention."
"Nope. Can't do it. Won't do it. If I'm not as important as your silly daydreams, I won't tell you about my piece of news that came directly from my brother."
Kaytlyn gasped. Menuel's brother Bilivel was an assistant to the King of Mirkwood, and any news that came from him was likely to be important and interesting. She wondered if it had anything to do with the War of Men. They had recently learned that the halfling, Frodo Baggins, had been successful in his campaign to destroy the ring of power, and there had been much rejoicing in the forest of Mirkwood. She wondered if it had something to do with that. 'Oh, no!' she thought, 'Perhaps Prince Legolas had been hurt!'
Kaytlyn hadn't had much contact with the future King of their forest. She wasn't important enough to be in the many meetings he attended, and, as a girl, she hadn't been included in his group of friends. It was true, though, that many of the elf maids around her age had seen Prince Legolas many times and knew many things about him, like the colours he preferred to wear, and his favorite foods, and where he sat at all the important counsels. Following about after he-elves was never high on Kaytlyn's list of priorities, so consequently she knew little about him.
She did have one experience with the graceful prince, and if any of the young elf maidens had known about it, they would have fainted in a jealous tiff, but not having made a career of finding out about Legolas, Kaytlyn didn't realize how rare her encounter was.
One night, not long before Legolas had left on his mystical and dangerous quest, Kaytlyn had been unable to sleep. It had been an awful week. Her father was pressuring her to settle down and act more like a maiden, Maliwen and Alliwel, sisters about her own age had made fun of her hair which was windblown from riding, and, worst of all, it was the five year anniversary of the death of her mother. Kaytlyn had been unable to sleep, so she saddled up Wind, her horse, and rode to her favourite spot in the forest.
Very few elves knew about the spot Kaytlyn had come upon accidentally nearly two hundred years before. Surrounded by a ring of tight trees was an emerald green plain cut through with a stream that bubbled ever on. For many years it had been her special place. Whenever she had a problem, she rode out there and all her troubles seemed to slip away in the verdant field. Her cares were massaged away by the bubbling sound the brook made when in skipped over rocks. She had even set up a target so she could practice her archery in her favorite place.
That was what she was doing that fateful night, when Legolas, his heart heavy with the cares that now burdened his young (for an elf) heart. From far, far away, the blond elf began to hear the rhythmic twang-thunk of a skilled archer practicing his craft. Still far away from where Kaytlyn was shooting, Legolas caught a glint of her peaceful eyes, refracting the star and moonlight, the colour of liquid starlight, the elusive mithril.
Legolas quickened his horse toward the clearing. He had to investigate these strange occurrences. His alabaster silently broke through a gap in the trees, and he reined it in as he saw the most beautiful sight he had ever set eyes upon. It was an elven maiden, who had such grace with a bow he had never seen. Her delicately strong arms glinted in the moonlight as they pulled back and released another arrow. Her loose, yet clingy, lilac- coloured dress flowed out behind her in the gentle breeze, and the moon's glow served to outline her supple curves in a pearlescent glow.
It was not just her outer beauty that attracted the flaxen-haired elf. What really caught his eyes was the gentle way she cradled her bow. He immediately knew that this elf maiden, whoever she was, was also a lover of his art. He suddenly realized that it was her eyes that had caught his attention. He had never seen eyes of that colour, he knew that this elf was different and he must meet this maiden.
Kaytlyn had been so focused on her arrow that she had not heard Legolas approaching. Suddenly, she heard the snap of a twig and immediately swung her bow towards the source of the sound. She was immensely surprised to see the Prince sitting atop his horse with a gentle smile upon his face. "Peace, my lady," he began.
Kaytlyn looked hurriedly around for her horse. She felt so ashamed for being caught late at night participating in unladylike activities. And a member of the royal family, no less!
"Do not worry. I will not harm you. I am simply stunned to find someone who obviously loves the bow as much as I. Especially a maiden like yourself." Kaytlyn was still too stunned to speak. "Please, lady, tell me your name. I have a gift for you." With that, he pulled an arrow out of his own quiver, kissed it, and handed it to Kaytlyn. The elf maiden took his gift and quickly thrust it in her own quiver, still shocked.
Without warning, Kaytlyn's horse cantered up next to her. She quickly mounted and encouraged her horse towards home; turning her graceful head back for one more stunned look at Legolas. As her horse galloped out of the clearing, Legolas shook his long, fair hair and whispered, "Ea seere, iirima mir." Legolas turned his horse in the opposite direction as Kaytlyn and left before the last word of his blessing had even stopped echoing.
These many months later, Kaytlyn was still ashamed by her nighttime meeting with the prince, though she treasured her arrow. 'He must think most poorly of me,' she thought as she walked by Menual. 'Imagine, an elf maiden shooting arrows in front of the prince of all Mirkwood. She genuinely hoped he hadn't been hurt, but no, Menuel's tone had been much too light-hearted for anything too serious. Kaytlyn suddenly realized that she hadn't been listening to Menuel for some time now, and she hoped he hadn't noticed she'd been ignoring him yet again.
Luckily, he seemed to think her silence was because of his refusal to share Bilivel's news. "Well," he began, "if you're not going to talk to me otherwise, I guess I better share the news."
"Yes?" Kaytlyn asked eagerly.
"Well, Bilivel said that the King just got word that Legolas is returning home soon, and he's completely fine!"
"Oh, that's wonderful!" Kaytlyn said, and then she silently thanked the Valar for their grace.
"And the best thing is, that to celebrate his return there's going to be a feast. And an archery contest. I know that archery contests usually depress you, because you can't participate, but for this one, I have a plan to get you in. And I know that you can win. If you do, maybe you will convince the King and the other elders that maidens have just the abilities of men. Here's the plan." Menuel leaned in and began to whisper in Kaytlyn's ear, and as he did a smile spread across her lovely face.