Ok, well since I actually got reviews, I'll try to write more. This story
rather popped into my head, so I'm really not sure where it will go, so
please tell me what you think of it and I'll gladly take suggestions! Just
some notes to specific reviewers:
BQ: sorry about the spacing, I do try to space it out but I can't figure out how to make it easier to read. I did notice the weird spacing. Any ideas on how to fix it?
Canon Police: I said this was assuming the Legolas was the heir to the throne, and assuming a lot of things. A lot of stories on fan fiction as assuming things, of course it's not accurate! I am aware of Legolas's whereabouts after the end of the return of the king. Being booked based just means that if I so chose to bring memories from the Fellowship of the ring, I will include details from the book, not the movie. Also, as far as I know, this is not a site that scrutinizes fashion. If I want my heroine to wear Lilac and emerald green, then she will wear it. Besides, as you will find out in later chapters, she was in a hurry! Please don't insult my sense of fashion in reviews, considering it has nothing to do with the writing. If you still feel so inclined to insult it, then please tell me what is wrong with it.
Thank you other reviewers for nice comments, I just like to answer readers when they give helpful (or un helpful) critique!
Disclaimer: I don't own anything from Lord of the rings, but I do own Ariomialwen and her fashionless Lilac and Emerald green. I also own Trandian Treesong, and I am aware that he is a fictional character, not from the book or the movie.
Legolas was too dumfounded to move. What he wanted most was to chase after her, and bring her back. However, the look in her eyes was just too terrible to bear. Memories of their childhood together swooped down on him like birds of prey. So many times that they had argued and fought, and in the end made up with each other, all in one sitting. She would playfully call him his childhood nick nickname, Leggy, partly because of his name, and partly because during adolescence, his legs had been too big for the rest of his body, and often he found himself tripping over himself. In return he had called her cloud, because she daydreamed way too much in their academic classes. Cloud had stuck; he made her stop calling him Leggy when they had turned 2000, and Legolas had become a handsome young elf. How much he wanted to hear her call him that now, but she was gone.
Legolas found he was trapped in a memory of one occasion in their younger years when he had tripped over himself and fallen into a mud puddle. Ariomialwen had found him there and was mercilessly taunting him, when he grabbed on of her ankles and tugged her down into the puddle where they wrestled for the privilege of standing up first, until Thranduil had found them and had demanded to know what they were doing in such a state only minutes before a banquet. The lord of Mirkwood picked both of them up, and dumped them into one of the nearby fountains. It was a memory that would have brought tears of laughter to his eyes. But the tears that came were not of mirth. Ariomialwen was the daughter of Mirkwood's chief general, Trandian Treesong, who was also one of Thranduil's chief advisors and closet friends, so Ariomialwen had grown up calling Thranduil "uncle". Ariomialwen Never knew her mother. Trandian was currently with Thranduil who was on his was to Rivendell to serve on the council who was too decide of what to do about the threat of upcoming war.
Indeed, a war was upon Middle Earth once again. Though the war of the ring was long done, the Orcs were not completely vanquished. Someone, or something had organized many of the little leftover clans of Orcs together. They were raiding villages, causing many refugees but their numbers were growing, and it seemed that it might go to all out War. The council was calling all the wisest to go to Rivendell, to see what might be found out about this new organizations. Thranduil had decided to go and left Legolas in charge.
Legolas thoughts were interrupted as a voice called out from behind him,
"My Prince!" One of his general's, and one of the stuffiest elves that Legolas knew came from behind him with a small group of soldiers. "Your Highness, you must return to the palace. With the threat of Orcs." He stopped when Legolas turned to face him. The coldness of the Prince's eyes was startling. What Legolas most wanted to do was to run after his friend again, to stop her and take her to the palace, whether he had to drag her or not. However, by now she would have gotten far enough that by the time he found her, the Orcs that had attacked the human refugees. If he were killed, Mirkwood would have gone into turmoil. He was the only son (I know this isn't tree, please bear with my active imagination) and thus the only heir.
"We will go back to the palace." Legolas agreed in an empty voice. He turned and picked up the crescent moon necklace. Turning back around he said,
"But. Send those soldiers after the Lady Ariomialwen, and...Bring her back, whatever it takes. please."
"My lord, that is not a good ideas, with the threat, we need all of our.." "Do it!" Legolas screamed. The general bowed silently and signaled to the soldiers behind him. Finally Legolas allowed himself to be steered back to the palace while a few of the soldiers went on to find his friend.
Ariomialwen rushed on through the forest, partly because she wanted to get away from her "best friend" and partly because she wanted to see if thee was anything she could do for the refugees. She had barely any idea what she would do after that. She was not going back to that. Prince who had betrayed her so. The look in his eyes when she struggled to get away from him was so frightening to her. that he had not let her go. He had scared her. That boy with whom she had wrestled in mud with had done something that he knew would hurt her, and then tried to keep her from leaving. What hurt the most was the knowledge that she still loved her best friend. If she had hated him, then she might have been able to move on in life, but the fact that she loved him. "I do hate him!" she screamed out loud, but the words were hollow and she knew that she couldn't lie to herself. I could be a traveling healer, she thought, helping everyone who needs me. But the one who would need the most healing would be me.
Running to the edge of Mirkwood would have exhausted even the fittest elf, but Ariomialwen ran with the strength of one who was trying to escape the thing that they feared most, and she reached her destination quickly, not knowing how much she was tiring herself. What she saw was not promising. The ground was littered with gore and countless bodies; wagons were turned over, and ransacked. There were some dead Orcs, but most were the humans; they had been taken by surprise and could not defend themselves, even if they had known about the attack. What surprised her most, was that there didn't seem to be any people or good taken. The sole goal of this attack was to kill? She wondered. What kind of sick being would do that?
The elf fell to her knees, blonde hair streaming behind her, tangled from her run. Most tears fell from sea green eyes as she thought of men, women and children who suffered here so that some bloodthirsty monsters could enjoy ripping them to pieces. Perhaps I'll kill a few of these monsters, she thought. It would take my mind off of. him.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a soft snarl from behind her. She turned with knives unsheathed just in time to block a crude sword. Apparently the Orcs had not all left their latest killing scene. Ariomialwen found herself facing one of the ugliest creatures she had ever seen. She had served on border patrols, fighting the occasional raiding party, but this Orc was not like the ones that she had helped to vanquish. It was about twice as tall, with a thick body dripping gore. Black eyes looked at her with sinister, murderous glee. It swung at her with its sword, the sheer force that hit her blades sending a horrendous vibration through her. It was all she could do to keep standing up. The Orc snarled and swung at her again. She dodged and lowered herself into a defense stance. The Orc was a skilled swordsmen, it did quite a bit more then just swing at her. No matter what trick she tried, it seemed to know exactly where she was going and blocked her move while jabbing at her.
Ariomialwen fought for dear life, swinging and dodging, but succeeding very little. The Orc lunged toward her left side, too quickly for her to block slitting her arm from elbow to wrist. She dropped her left blade, screaming from the pain.
Though she was a skilled warrior, the elf was losing blood and could not keep up with a single blade. The Orc achieved many smaller scratches on her until she fell to her knees. It cackled in some kind of twisted triumph before raising its sword for the final blow. Ariomialwen bowed her head. At least the pain would be over. Before the blow would come down, the Orc made another noise, a muffled gurgle. The elf used the last of her strength to roll away as it fell on the spot were she had just been. There was a single elvish arrow in the creature's back.
Blackness was rolling in on Ariomialwen. She lay back, thinking that it was the end. She felt somehow calm, perhaps because she would not have to live with the horrors of the evening. The last thing she heard was elvish voices whispering around her because darkness fell.
BQ: sorry about the spacing, I do try to space it out but I can't figure out how to make it easier to read. I did notice the weird spacing. Any ideas on how to fix it?
Canon Police: I said this was assuming the Legolas was the heir to the throne, and assuming a lot of things. A lot of stories on fan fiction as assuming things, of course it's not accurate! I am aware of Legolas's whereabouts after the end of the return of the king. Being booked based just means that if I so chose to bring memories from the Fellowship of the ring, I will include details from the book, not the movie. Also, as far as I know, this is not a site that scrutinizes fashion. If I want my heroine to wear Lilac and emerald green, then she will wear it. Besides, as you will find out in later chapters, she was in a hurry! Please don't insult my sense of fashion in reviews, considering it has nothing to do with the writing. If you still feel so inclined to insult it, then please tell me what is wrong with it.
Thank you other reviewers for nice comments, I just like to answer readers when they give helpful (or un helpful) critique!
Disclaimer: I don't own anything from Lord of the rings, but I do own Ariomialwen and her fashionless Lilac and Emerald green. I also own Trandian Treesong, and I am aware that he is a fictional character, not from the book or the movie.
Legolas was too dumfounded to move. What he wanted most was to chase after her, and bring her back. However, the look in her eyes was just too terrible to bear. Memories of their childhood together swooped down on him like birds of prey. So many times that they had argued and fought, and in the end made up with each other, all in one sitting. She would playfully call him his childhood nick nickname, Leggy, partly because of his name, and partly because during adolescence, his legs had been too big for the rest of his body, and often he found himself tripping over himself. In return he had called her cloud, because she daydreamed way too much in their academic classes. Cloud had stuck; he made her stop calling him Leggy when they had turned 2000, and Legolas had become a handsome young elf. How much he wanted to hear her call him that now, but she was gone.
Legolas found he was trapped in a memory of one occasion in their younger years when he had tripped over himself and fallen into a mud puddle. Ariomialwen had found him there and was mercilessly taunting him, when he grabbed on of her ankles and tugged her down into the puddle where they wrestled for the privilege of standing up first, until Thranduil had found them and had demanded to know what they were doing in such a state only minutes before a banquet. The lord of Mirkwood picked both of them up, and dumped them into one of the nearby fountains. It was a memory that would have brought tears of laughter to his eyes. But the tears that came were not of mirth. Ariomialwen was the daughter of Mirkwood's chief general, Trandian Treesong, who was also one of Thranduil's chief advisors and closet friends, so Ariomialwen had grown up calling Thranduil "uncle". Ariomialwen Never knew her mother. Trandian was currently with Thranduil who was on his was to Rivendell to serve on the council who was too decide of what to do about the threat of upcoming war.
Indeed, a war was upon Middle Earth once again. Though the war of the ring was long done, the Orcs were not completely vanquished. Someone, or something had organized many of the little leftover clans of Orcs together. They were raiding villages, causing many refugees but their numbers were growing, and it seemed that it might go to all out War. The council was calling all the wisest to go to Rivendell, to see what might be found out about this new organizations. Thranduil had decided to go and left Legolas in charge.
Legolas thoughts were interrupted as a voice called out from behind him,
"My Prince!" One of his general's, and one of the stuffiest elves that Legolas knew came from behind him with a small group of soldiers. "Your Highness, you must return to the palace. With the threat of Orcs." He stopped when Legolas turned to face him. The coldness of the Prince's eyes was startling. What Legolas most wanted to do was to run after his friend again, to stop her and take her to the palace, whether he had to drag her or not. However, by now she would have gotten far enough that by the time he found her, the Orcs that had attacked the human refugees. If he were killed, Mirkwood would have gone into turmoil. He was the only son (I know this isn't tree, please bear with my active imagination) and thus the only heir.
"We will go back to the palace." Legolas agreed in an empty voice. He turned and picked up the crescent moon necklace. Turning back around he said,
"But. Send those soldiers after the Lady Ariomialwen, and...Bring her back, whatever it takes. please."
"My lord, that is not a good ideas, with the threat, we need all of our.." "Do it!" Legolas screamed. The general bowed silently and signaled to the soldiers behind him. Finally Legolas allowed himself to be steered back to the palace while a few of the soldiers went on to find his friend.
Ariomialwen rushed on through the forest, partly because she wanted to get away from her "best friend" and partly because she wanted to see if thee was anything she could do for the refugees. She had barely any idea what she would do after that. She was not going back to that. Prince who had betrayed her so. The look in his eyes when she struggled to get away from him was so frightening to her. that he had not let her go. He had scared her. That boy with whom she had wrestled in mud with had done something that he knew would hurt her, and then tried to keep her from leaving. What hurt the most was the knowledge that she still loved her best friend. If she had hated him, then she might have been able to move on in life, but the fact that she loved him. "I do hate him!" she screamed out loud, but the words were hollow and she knew that she couldn't lie to herself. I could be a traveling healer, she thought, helping everyone who needs me. But the one who would need the most healing would be me.
Running to the edge of Mirkwood would have exhausted even the fittest elf, but Ariomialwen ran with the strength of one who was trying to escape the thing that they feared most, and she reached her destination quickly, not knowing how much she was tiring herself. What she saw was not promising. The ground was littered with gore and countless bodies; wagons were turned over, and ransacked. There were some dead Orcs, but most were the humans; they had been taken by surprise and could not defend themselves, even if they had known about the attack. What surprised her most, was that there didn't seem to be any people or good taken. The sole goal of this attack was to kill? She wondered. What kind of sick being would do that?
The elf fell to her knees, blonde hair streaming behind her, tangled from her run. Most tears fell from sea green eyes as she thought of men, women and children who suffered here so that some bloodthirsty monsters could enjoy ripping them to pieces. Perhaps I'll kill a few of these monsters, she thought. It would take my mind off of. him.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a soft snarl from behind her. She turned with knives unsheathed just in time to block a crude sword. Apparently the Orcs had not all left their latest killing scene. Ariomialwen found herself facing one of the ugliest creatures she had ever seen. She had served on border patrols, fighting the occasional raiding party, but this Orc was not like the ones that she had helped to vanquish. It was about twice as tall, with a thick body dripping gore. Black eyes looked at her with sinister, murderous glee. It swung at her with its sword, the sheer force that hit her blades sending a horrendous vibration through her. It was all she could do to keep standing up. The Orc snarled and swung at her again. She dodged and lowered herself into a defense stance. The Orc was a skilled swordsmen, it did quite a bit more then just swing at her. No matter what trick she tried, it seemed to know exactly where she was going and blocked her move while jabbing at her.
Ariomialwen fought for dear life, swinging and dodging, but succeeding very little. The Orc lunged toward her left side, too quickly for her to block slitting her arm from elbow to wrist. She dropped her left blade, screaming from the pain.
Though she was a skilled warrior, the elf was losing blood and could not keep up with a single blade. The Orc achieved many smaller scratches on her until she fell to her knees. It cackled in some kind of twisted triumph before raising its sword for the final blow. Ariomialwen bowed her head. At least the pain would be over. Before the blow would come down, the Orc made another noise, a muffled gurgle. The elf used the last of her strength to roll away as it fell on the spot were she had just been. There was a single elvish arrow in the creature's back.
Blackness was rolling in on Ariomialwen. She lay back, thinking that it was the end. She felt somehow calm, perhaps because she would not have to live with the horrors of the evening. The last thing she heard was elvish voices whispering around her because darkness fell.