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Woo, guess who's back! Like I said in my bio, this was meant to be a one-shot fiction. Boom, it should have been over. But since you people, and Liz, and Zephyr, and my conscience bugged me about it so much, it's back for Round Two. Feel loved. Very loved. Anyone who reviews this time gets the pretty colored large inflatable hammers that you get at fairs and such that squeak when you hit people with them. Pick your color; the pink one's Zephyr's by default. This is from Legolas's point of view; how he fell in love with Éowyn, {finally learned to make the 'É', lol} and his thoughts concerning her marriage to Faramir, whom I hate with a passion. Also, with no idea what weddings were like in Middle-Earth, it's a regular wedding. Since I'm a lazy ass procrastinator who doesn't wanna look up the bloody triple blasted wedding vows, they're not going to get that far. Squee! Poor Legolas. He's so angst-filled in this. *hugs Legolas, takes him home, and flirts incessantly with him to get his mind off Éowyn*
Legolas: *holds up sign saying "Free the Hot, Blonde Elf Love Slave!"*
Espie: *holds up sign saying "He's Mine, BUGGER OFF!"*
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Bleak Happiness
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Esperanza Fuega
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Éowyn is the cause of this; the cause of my unrest in Middle-Earth, the cause of my heart opening up. Curse her for her eyes, curse her for her soul.
Curse me, for I am in love with her until the day I die. Curse the Gods, for that day shall not happen.
She is so fair, I fear minstrels have sang sweeter songs than I could ever hope to compose for lesser ladies.
This has brought me naught but ill, and yet I find myself yearning for the merest glimpse of her, to see her smile would be the sweetest reward that I could reap for any pain so great as this. Aragorn turns to me, smiling.
"Friend," says he, "worry not; this shall be over soon."
Sooner than he thinks. I nod and smile.
Éowyn walks out, wearing a gown that only accentuates her loveliness in my eyes.
At the altar, Faramir grins like someone who has just found out he is going to be made King of Middle-Earth.
I fear it is time to take action into my own hands.
Rising to my feet, I move through the row of seats I am in swiftly, thanking those same Gods I just cursed for being an Elf. Scooping Éowyn up into my arms, I vault out the window, landing gracefully.
Smiling at my love, I put her in the saddle of a mount, Aragorn's, before leaping onto another horse. Aragorn shall harm me for stealing his horse, but it is of no matter now.
"Ride, fair lady," I tell her, "or else we both shall die."
Then we are off, sprinting away from Rohan, and there is no more time to talk.
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I'm sorry if Legolas came out to be a puffball in this one. *hides head* I had a hard time with the dialogue, and well, he should be a bit romantic in this if it's going to work, and I want him to be romantic…anyway. It's one thirty in the morning, on a Saturday, and I'm here explaining myself to you. Sorry, I have to go write something else.
*waves*
Remember; review and you too can get a squeaky hammer thing bob!