Disclaimer: I absolutely in no way, shape, or form own ANY of the Lord of the Rings characters. Nor do I have claim over any of the locations-EXCEPT! Lenithluwey, and the characters: Princess Mahalleana, daughter of King Heimel, and Valen son of Amry. I apologize ahead of time, but please keep in mind I am NOT Tolkien, I do not possess his writing skills… so keep an open mind ^_~
His eyes sat opened and glazed as nature took him whole. The scent of candied honeydew lingered about him, and the dying embers of a mid eve's sun coated his flesh. The balcony to which he sat flutted with deep roses and honey suckles, ribbons and gauzes. As was such through out the palace. A magnificent collaboration of crimson and cream to the beholder below, but to the onlooker above it was merely another ball, another charade. Another act to add to the play, that was Legolas' life.
He sighed gently and pressed his back against the silvered wall of the castle. The voices of the Elven servants below chorused from all angles, all in orders, apologies, all in praises of approval. The shadow of the land pressed forward devouring the light bit by bit as the sun nestled behind the forest in slumber. Even in the dimmest of all nights, his archer eyes could pin the slightest detail, and in disgust he witnessed a small train of horse and carriage coming forth, growing by the moment towards his homestead.
From such a distance the sight of guiding lights about the elaborate carriages appeared as Fae lights that bounced and swayed in the shadow of the wood. To that he would prefer, but he knew to that all the better. Those creatures deemed Elves were far fallen from Fae. Fae's were graceful, delicate, dreamful creatures. But Nae these… The King and daughter alike awaited their greeting and arrival. Awaited the Prince's dance and approval, and hoped that the Prince would chose his daughter for this night and all the more.
They were hideous! They were greedy, and distasteful.
"The Orici of my race." Legolas thought lifting from the marble base and standing tall. His delicately skilled hands drifted along his Moon-fairing tunic, removing all lines of dissatisfaction. With a slight smile he bowed to his ever-longing mistress Nyght and turned on heel making inwards to his bedroom.
"To this I got to my death. A death one thousand times lived and felled, before no battle has such a fear grabbed my soul within. But that of one hundred ladies that pursue me, send such dark fears… I believe that I should run for my life. But all the well I know that it would be a disrespect for those attended." He spoke above a whisper meeting his own gaze upon the water mirror's surface. His cheeks were smooth and that of silken stone. Flawless as far as any eye alike could see. Paled with a sunless age. His spring glanced hair pale yellow fell about his shoulder, Elvish braids interlocking that hair to which framed his face behind. Silver bled along his forehead – a crown twisted and knotted, sapphire incrusted and awe upon eyes. This alone brought a smile to his once solemn lips.
"Gimli, dear friend." He thought, his fingertips caressing the crown that adorned his head. A simple trade…sapphires as blue as the dark heaven's above hailing from the mines of Gimli's homeland, for methril for such a stout figure. Legolas would remember his companion always, and at this moments cost he prayed for Gimli's bravery.