"You are disappointed, aren't you?" Limiel placed her right hand on Legolas' shoulder, trying to comfort him. He had been sitting under the tree for hours, contemplating about why Galadriel entrusted the Ring to Aeglos to be delivered to Lothlorien, instead of him.
He should have known it. After all, he was the youngest and most foolish among his brothers. Aeglos was the heir to the throne, the most intelligent and valiant of them all. Still…
Legolas turned to face Limiel and nodded. His pleading gaze showed that he wanted to be left alone. Limiel understood, and went inside without saying another word.
"Will you feel better if I say that your courage and honesty are no less than your brother's, Legolas?"
He turned and saw Galadriel behind him, smiling. The tree obscured the light of the Moon, yet her figure was shining as the morning sun, beautiful as ever. Her expression was a mix between affection, sadness, and apology. Ever since the Ring was taken from her finger, she seemed to shrink, as the powerful aura around her faded, though it had not changed a bit of her majesty. Legolas knew the reason. Nenya, the source of her power was no longer with her. Yet, she still had her own resource of strength inside, and a great deal of one. It kept her graceful like a queen, strong but gentle, proud and meek at the same time.
Legolas did not answer; Galadriel would have known it by her uncanny insight. He took his eyes off her, trying not to show his resentment. 'After all, it is hers to give to whomever she pleases,' he told himself.
"Legolas, I love you like I love my own son. I really respect your qualities and I believe you can do the task as well as your brother. It is just that…," she paused and took a deep breath, weighing the words she wanted to say. "I want you to stay by my side until my last breath," she finally said, with a heavy heart. She did not want to burden him with the knowledge of her future death. Yet, if it could ease his inferior feeling, then she must tell him.
The young Elf was obviously startled. He looked at her with widening eyes and said, "Last breath you say? What do you mean Lady? Surely my teacher will not kill you?"
"I am not sure if he will kill me for revenge, but about death, I am very certain. The premonition is very strong, the strongest since I knew my daughter's predicament," she smiled fearlessly, seeming to surrender to her fate whatever it was.
"If you can foresee it, surely you can escape it?" he questioned her. The image of her death, particularly if caused by his teacher, frightened him. And it was not just for her sake.
"Don't worry about me, Legolas. It is just a way for me to return to the Blessed Land. The way is forever shut while I am still alive, so perhaps I can return by my death. And don't worry about your realm, either. No one will hold my death against you. That, I promise."
"Please, my Lady. I care about you. Don't die! " Legolas begged earnestly. He feared for her, as a friend concerned for his best friend. Or perhaps as a student to his teacher. Whatever his feeling was, it was not infatuation, and both of them were content that it was not.
"We will see." Galadriel smiled. She picked a leaf from the nearest branch and used it to whistle a song. Legolas looked at her, anxious. How could she feel such ease when she knew her death was approaching?
'Lady, you ask me not to worry but I cannot do that,' his mind spoke up unintentionally, 'I will do anything to prevent it from happening!'
Galadriel noticed his thought, of course. She threw the leaf away and faced Legolas with a sharp look, "Listen to me, Legolas. You must not interfere no matter what your teacher intends to do to me. Do not involve yourself in our problem."
The young Elf turned away. He could not and did not want to make the promise. But the Lady cupped his face and forced him to meet her eyes. "Promise me," she said sternly.
"I…I…promise," he finally responded. Galadriel smiled, well pleased, and let him go.
"Good, " she said and turned away from him, heading toward the house.
Legolas was still standing there, regretting his action. It was then when he suddenly frozen by a sense stirring up inside him. He used to delight in the feeling, for it was an indication that his teacher was not far from him.
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Thank you Mad Writer, for liking my story. :-). Thank you to all who like this story. Your support that keeps me writing through the worst of writers block.