Disclaimer: The Lord of the Rings does not belong to me, no matter how hard
I wish.
A/N: This takes place a little over a hundred years later than my last chapter. Here's where the story line starts to get vaguely AU for those of you who have memorized the Tolkien timeline; but for those of you who have not, enjoy.
/thoughts/
*****************
Arwen leaned over the neck of her white horse. "Noro lim, Asfoloth (1)," she whispered in his ear, urging him faster. It seemed to her that every moment that slipped by was crucial, that if she did not move faster she would loose her mother forever. Why hadn't her Father let Arwen join her mother?
*****************
~flashback, three nights ago~
*****************
"I am leaving," said Celebrian calmly as she packed travel clothes and provisions into her bag.
Elrond was standing beside her, as Arwen stood in the doorway of her parents' room, fingering the golden chain about her neck nervously.
"I would prefer that you not," said Elrond insistently. "With the appearance of orcs and other fell things, it is no longer safe to visit your mother…"
"That is the reason I need to see her! She would know what these appearances mean, and what to do about them. The witch-king has returned. I have to leave Rivendell, love, it is necessary."
Elrond shook his head. "Then at least take an escort."
"I cannot bring a whole escort to Lothlorien, and Elladan and Elrohir are away," Celebrian answered evenly, slinging the pack over her shoulder. She was already dressed in riding clothes.
"I can go," volunteered Arwen. "I can ride, and wield…"
"No," said Elrond firmly. "You are not yet qualified. Your place is here, Arwen."
Arwen frowned. Why was she not qualified? Because she was young? Because she was a woman? That didn't mean she couldn't fight as well as her brothers.
Celebrian turned and threw Arwen a sympathetic glance as she passed. "Do not worry," she called back to the two as she strode down the hallway. "I will be fine."
*****************
But somehow, Arwen knew that she would not be. So despite her father's orders, that night she snuck out to the stable with the intention of following her mother.
"Lady," pleaded her handmaiden quietly, "I wish you would not do this. Stay here, where it is safe!"
"And see my mother die!" cried Arwen. "I am sorry, but I cannot do that, Isilya (2)." She took her travel pack from Isilya's hand.
"Please cover for me while I am gone," she continued.
"But what shall I tell your Father?" Isilya asked, pulling her cloak tighter about herself to keep out the chill night air.
"Tell him I am busy. Make up something," said Arwen, swinging onto Asfoloth's back. "Farewell, Isilya."
"Farewell, mi'lady," said Isilya as Arwen galloped off into the moonlight. "Please be careful."
*****************
~end flasback~
*****************
Asfoloth was a good horse, and nimble, but after three days' hard riding, he began to falter beneath her. Arwen was worried. Surely she should have overtaken her mother by now-after all, they only left about eight hours apart from each other. /Do not worry/ she told herself. /Maybe she took a different way. Or maybe she is riding as hard as I am/.
/In any case, / she concluded /I might as well stop and give Asfoloth a rest./
She guided Asfoloth over to a lake and waterfall she had spotted in a break in the trees. She dismounted the white horse and took off his tack, before taking a meal of bread and dried fruit.
"It is beautiful, isn't it?" she said to Asfoloth while looking at the lake. It was perfectly still, despite the waterfall emptying into it, and the moon and stars reflected to look almost real.
Suddenly tempted, Arwen stood and took off her sword and clothing, and laid them in a neatly folded pile on the edge of the lake. She had become very dirty over the last few days, and now was the perfect time to bathe.
She dipped her toe into the water and shivered from the cold. Holding her breath, she plunged bravely into the icy waters and swam lazily over to the waterfall, trying to get used to the temperature.
"Come hither, Asfodel," she encouraged the horse, "and have a drink."
He obeyed, and dipped his muzzle into the lake as she stood and washed herself beneath the waterfall.
Just as she was finishing, her peace was interrupted.
"Who are you?" called a clear, male elven voice, startling Arwen.
With a gasp, she quickly submerged herself up to the neck in the water. A young elf, dressed all in greens and browns, stood on the riverbank, stroking Asfodel's forelock. She would not have been able to distinguish him from the trees if he had not revealed himself.
"Who are *you*?" she snapped back at him, upset that he violated her modesty.
He laughed, a sound like the ringing of bells. "Well, considering that you *are* on my father's territory, I think I should be the one asking the questions."
His eyes suddenly narrowed on the necklace she wore, that was floating on top of the water. "Arwen?" he gasped.
"How do you…" she trailed off, studying the elf. He was taller and more muscular, and his hair had deepened to a gold that matched her necklace, but he was most definitely… "Legolas!"
"I haven't seen you in ages," he smiled.
"Neither have I," she answered, raising herself partially from the water. "You have certainly grown!"
"So have you," he said, a merry twinkle in his eyes.
Arwen blushed. "How long were you watching?"
"Long enough. What are you doing out here by yourself? Greenwood is not as it once was. There are fell beings about."
"I was looking for my mother. Have you seen her?"
Slowly, Legolas shook his head. "Nay. But come out and dress, and I'll take you back to our home. We can talk then."
Arwen nodded and dressed quickly as Legolas turned his back. Enlisting the help of Thranduil would be better than attempting to search for her mother by herself.
Besides, she would be able to catch up with her old friend this way.
*****************
After camping the night at the lake, the two set out for the home of the wood elves. Legolas led Arwen down long, winding forest paths, while Asfodel followed behind.
As they talked, she marveled at how much he had changed.
/But of course he changed,/ she thought, /the last time you saw him he was five. And it is not a bad change, either…/
Arwen blushed at the last thought that ran through her mind.
"Are you alright?" asked Legolas, peering intently at her.
"Oh…yes, of course," she said.
"As I was saying, our home is right across this bridge. Do you see the gates in the cave?"
Arwen squinted. "Yes. You live in a cave?"
Legolas laughed. "Not exactly Rivendell, is it? But it is home, and it is safe. Come."
He took her hand and led her across the bridge, and laid his hand on the gates, whispering words in elvish that she could not quite make out.
As they entered the cave, the gates swung shut behind them. An elf led Asfodel away to their stables as Legolas took her to the throne room.
Great pillars carved out of the living stone stood there, and an empty wooden throne sat at the end.
"He must be away on a hunting party," said Legolas.
Arwen sighed, extremely disappointed. Would she never find her mother?
Something of what she was thinking must have shown on her face, because Legolas said: "Do not loose heart. I will talk to him as soon as he returns."
"That may not be soon enough," she said solemnly. "I have a feeling that my mother is in grave danger. If I do not find her soon…"
Legolas shook his head. "Nevermind. We have some of the best scouts here. They will be able to find her."
Arwen nodded. "Then do you have a room where I can take my leave?"
Legolas called one of the royal attendants to lead her to a room. But before she followed, she turned and slid off the necklace.
"Here," she said. "I do not need this to remember you by anymore. Now you are here."
Legolas smiled as he took the chain. "Thank you, my friend. I shall come and visit your chambers after I speak to my father, to tell you what news there is."
"Come and visit even if there is no news," she said coyly, and followed the servant elf down the corridor.
*****************
By the time Legolas came to visit Arwen's chambers, it was almost nightfall. Arwen was sitting on her bed, fresh from another bath. She was trying in vain to brush out the tangles in her hair.
"Having trouble?" inquired Legolas with a smile.
"Legolas!" Arwen exclaimed. "It is about time! Yes, I'm having trouble- I can't seem to get the knots from my hair."
Legolas took the brush from her hands and sat nimbly down behind her, pulling gently at her hair with it.
"What news is there?" asked Arwen anxiously.
"My Father has not seen head nor tail of her," answered Legolas sympathetically. "But he has sent out a search party. We should have her tracked down within a day."
Arwen twisted her hands in her lap. "I'm sorry, my friend, for being so much trouble. You don't have to do this…"
"Thranduil is close friends with Celebrian. He is concerned for her safety as well- he would search for her even if you had not asked. But why did Lord Elrond let her go by herself?"
"My mother insisted that she couldn't bring an escort with her. I offered to go- but my father said I was too young," said Arwen bitterly.
"I get that a lot, too."
"Really?"
"Yes. But I always manage somehow to get around my father's wishes. I only hope...I only hope that someday I will get his approval."
"He does not approve of you?"
Here, the brush halted its work. Legolas sat silent behind her. She was afraid that somehow she had offended him.
"Legolas?" she asked, turning around to face him, and taking his hands into hers.
Legolas blinked a few times, as if to hold back tears. "Maybe if mother were here, it would be different," he said quietly. "But she's not- and so Father is…very cold, and distant. He's always away. When he is here, he drinks a lot. Sometimes I don't think he means the stuff he says, but it still hurts."
"What does he say?" asked Arwen concernedly.
Legolas shook his head. "He's still a good ruler. He treats his people well," he continued as if she had not asked.
"Legolas?" she asked again. Inwardly, she was horrified that Thranduil could be so cruel. When she was a child in Rivendell, she always pictured Legolas as being happy, running free in the trees. Obviously, that was not the case. But if he did not want to talk about it now, she would wait for him.
"People always say that the wood elves are wild creatures, that spend their days whispering to trees and running along mountain paths. But it does not seem that way to me. You all appear very civilized," she said, switching subjects and turning back around so he could brush the last of the knots from her hair.
Legolas relaxed behind her. "Ha! If you believe that then you should come to the feast tonight," he said.
"Can I?" she asked excitedly.
"Of course. You are my guest," answered Legolas. He finished brushing, and idly ran his hands through her hair. A chill ran down Arwen's spine at the contact.
He rose and stood in front of her. "Come on," he said, grasping her hand.
He tugged her into and old, ornamental bedroom down the hall, and swung open the closet.
"This room was my mother's. You are about her size, so you can have one of her dresses to wear."
Arwen smiled sadly. "No, I could not accept that."
"She would want you to have it. Mother was a kind person." He handed her a long, relatively simple gown, but it was the golden color of turning leaves, with decorative embroidery.
"You are a very generous elf, my friend. Thank you," said Arwen.
"You're welcome. I will wait outside," said Legolas, and he bent and kissed her cheek, then left the room.
Arwen gasped and reached up to trace a finger over the spot of contact, eyes wide. "Legolas!" she moaned.
*****************
The feast was out among the trees. Torches were all about, supplementing the people with light almost as bright as day. Tables were laden with food from the hunt and harvest.
All of the elves agreed that night that Arwen was one of the most beautiful creatures to behold, in her new dress with her hair done up.
"Thank you for having me, Lord Thranduil," she said, attempting to be cordial. To her surprise he was very kind, but she still held a certain dislike for him.
"You are most certainly welcome, young Lady Undomiel. I can assure you that we will find your mother soon, but in the meantime we are pleased to enjoy your company."
Thranduil was dressed in raiment of a deep purple, like that of ripe grapes. He wore on his head a crown of berries and red leaves for autumn.
The fare was excellent- a bit rustic for Arwen's tastes, but still good. The wine was even better, and Arwen took a lot of it, despite some warnings. Legolas sat silent beside her for the duration.
After the feast was done, the tables were taken away to make room for dancing. Musicians began to play.
It was then that Arwen saw what Legolas was talking about earlier. The people burst into songs and games, dancing and laughing and raising a ruckus.
Legolas came up behind her and placed a crown of leaves on her head. "Do you still think we're civilized?" he laughed.
She smiled. "Not as much," she admitted.
"Here, come dance," he said, leading her out where the others were dancing.
It was some of the most fun that Arwen had ever had, spending the night twirling in Legolas's arms. But after a while she began to get drowsy from the wine, and begged him to stop and walk among the trees.
She leaned heavily on him as they wandered away from the party. "The moon is beautiful again tonight," she observed tipsily.
"Yes, it is," said Legolas, who was half supporting her, his arms around her waist as she pressed her face to his chest.
"I think you had a little too much to drink," he continued merrily.
"Yes," she sighed. "But it was so good. Tonight was wonderful, Legolas. Thank you."
"Well, I'm glad you managed to wander into our lake!"
She laughed. "Yes, so am I." For a moment she managed to forget why she was there in the first place, as she raised her head to look into his eyes.
Her heart began to thud painfully in her chest. She was embarrassed by her emotions, until she saw the way he was looking at her.
And just then, they came to notice that they both felt the same way.
Ever so slowly, he brought his lips down upon hers. The kiss started off light, but grew deeper and more heated each moment that passed by. Arwen had lost herself to the passion, and she knew that he had too.
With a gasp, the two broke apart. The mix of alcohol and love gave her a heady feeling, and she would have gladly fallen asleep there in his arms.
The next thing she knew she was back in her bed and Legolas was bending over her.
"Good night, Evenstar," he said warmly, stroking her hair away from her face.
"Stay," she whispered, reaching out her arms to him.
He hesitated a moment, then shook his head. "I'm sorry. I will see you in the morning."
He tucked the sheets about her, and that was all she remembered.
*****************
Arwen rose the next morning with a headache. She got out of bed slowly and got dressed, and then headed down to the throne room to find Legolas.
He was there, standing by an empty throne.
"Legolas!" she cried, and wound her arms around his neck.
"Arwen," he said seriously, and pushed her gently away to look into her eyes.
Suddenly, she noticed that his eyes were overbright.
"What is it?" she asked.
"We found your mother…"
"No…" gasped Arwen, pressing her hand to her lips and squeezing her eyes shut, as if to block out what she was going to hear next.
"I'm so sorry, Arwen. She is…very ill. Our healer is tending to her now, but…."
"No! It cannot be so!" she cried. "Mother…"
She broke down into tears. Her mother was dying!
"I'm sorry. I know what it is like," said Legolas, pulling her close. She buried her face in his chest again and wept, clinging to him like a lifeline. Her worst fears had come true. Her mother…was dying.
*****************
1.'Noro Lim' in my rudimentary understanding of elvish means 'fly'
2.'Isilya', Arwen's handmaiden's name, means 'moon' in Quenya (high elvish) and is used roughly for Wednesday in the days of the week.
A/N: Umm, someone pointed out to me that Greenwood is not directly on the way to Lorien. My answer to that is: Arwen is only one hundred or so, so that she does no know her way around that well. That's why she couldn't find her mother.
Wow, people really like my story!!! 16 reviews- and someone even wants to translate it into Chinese! I didn't think it was that good! Well, I really enjoyed writing this chapter a lot, an' I hope you liked it as much as the last. PLEASE REVIEW AGAIN! (I luv getting reviews)
And also- expect to see Aragorn soon. ^-~
A/N: This takes place a little over a hundred years later than my last chapter. Here's where the story line starts to get vaguely AU for those of you who have memorized the Tolkien timeline; but for those of you who have not, enjoy.
/thoughts/
*****************
Arwen leaned over the neck of her white horse. "Noro lim, Asfoloth (1)," she whispered in his ear, urging him faster. It seemed to her that every moment that slipped by was crucial, that if she did not move faster she would loose her mother forever. Why hadn't her Father let Arwen join her mother?
*****************
~flashback, three nights ago~
*****************
"I am leaving," said Celebrian calmly as she packed travel clothes and provisions into her bag.
Elrond was standing beside her, as Arwen stood in the doorway of her parents' room, fingering the golden chain about her neck nervously.
"I would prefer that you not," said Elrond insistently. "With the appearance of orcs and other fell things, it is no longer safe to visit your mother…"
"That is the reason I need to see her! She would know what these appearances mean, and what to do about them. The witch-king has returned. I have to leave Rivendell, love, it is necessary."
Elrond shook his head. "Then at least take an escort."
"I cannot bring a whole escort to Lothlorien, and Elladan and Elrohir are away," Celebrian answered evenly, slinging the pack over her shoulder. She was already dressed in riding clothes.
"I can go," volunteered Arwen. "I can ride, and wield…"
"No," said Elrond firmly. "You are not yet qualified. Your place is here, Arwen."
Arwen frowned. Why was she not qualified? Because she was young? Because she was a woman? That didn't mean she couldn't fight as well as her brothers.
Celebrian turned and threw Arwen a sympathetic glance as she passed. "Do not worry," she called back to the two as she strode down the hallway. "I will be fine."
*****************
But somehow, Arwen knew that she would not be. So despite her father's orders, that night she snuck out to the stable with the intention of following her mother.
"Lady," pleaded her handmaiden quietly, "I wish you would not do this. Stay here, where it is safe!"
"And see my mother die!" cried Arwen. "I am sorry, but I cannot do that, Isilya (2)." She took her travel pack from Isilya's hand.
"Please cover for me while I am gone," she continued.
"But what shall I tell your Father?" Isilya asked, pulling her cloak tighter about herself to keep out the chill night air.
"Tell him I am busy. Make up something," said Arwen, swinging onto Asfoloth's back. "Farewell, Isilya."
"Farewell, mi'lady," said Isilya as Arwen galloped off into the moonlight. "Please be careful."
*****************
~end flasback~
*****************
Asfoloth was a good horse, and nimble, but after three days' hard riding, he began to falter beneath her. Arwen was worried. Surely she should have overtaken her mother by now-after all, they only left about eight hours apart from each other. /Do not worry/ she told herself. /Maybe she took a different way. Or maybe she is riding as hard as I am/.
/In any case, / she concluded /I might as well stop and give Asfoloth a rest./
She guided Asfoloth over to a lake and waterfall she had spotted in a break in the trees. She dismounted the white horse and took off his tack, before taking a meal of bread and dried fruit.
"It is beautiful, isn't it?" she said to Asfoloth while looking at the lake. It was perfectly still, despite the waterfall emptying into it, and the moon and stars reflected to look almost real.
Suddenly tempted, Arwen stood and took off her sword and clothing, and laid them in a neatly folded pile on the edge of the lake. She had become very dirty over the last few days, and now was the perfect time to bathe.
She dipped her toe into the water and shivered from the cold. Holding her breath, she plunged bravely into the icy waters and swam lazily over to the waterfall, trying to get used to the temperature.
"Come hither, Asfodel," she encouraged the horse, "and have a drink."
He obeyed, and dipped his muzzle into the lake as she stood and washed herself beneath the waterfall.
Just as she was finishing, her peace was interrupted.
"Who are you?" called a clear, male elven voice, startling Arwen.
With a gasp, she quickly submerged herself up to the neck in the water. A young elf, dressed all in greens and browns, stood on the riverbank, stroking Asfodel's forelock. She would not have been able to distinguish him from the trees if he had not revealed himself.
"Who are *you*?" she snapped back at him, upset that he violated her modesty.
He laughed, a sound like the ringing of bells. "Well, considering that you *are* on my father's territory, I think I should be the one asking the questions."
His eyes suddenly narrowed on the necklace she wore, that was floating on top of the water. "Arwen?" he gasped.
"How do you…" she trailed off, studying the elf. He was taller and more muscular, and his hair had deepened to a gold that matched her necklace, but he was most definitely… "Legolas!"
"I haven't seen you in ages," he smiled.
"Neither have I," she answered, raising herself partially from the water. "You have certainly grown!"
"So have you," he said, a merry twinkle in his eyes.
Arwen blushed. "How long were you watching?"
"Long enough. What are you doing out here by yourself? Greenwood is not as it once was. There are fell beings about."
"I was looking for my mother. Have you seen her?"
Slowly, Legolas shook his head. "Nay. But come out and dress, and I'll take you back to our home. We can talk then."
Arwen nodded and dressed quickly as Legolas turned his back. Enlisting the help of Thranduil would be better than attempting to search for her mother by herself.
Besides, she would be able to catch up with her old friend this way.
*****************
After camping the night at the lake, the two set out for the home of the wood elves. Legolas led Arwen down long, winding forest paths, while Asfodel followed behind.
As they talked, she marveled at how much he had changed.
/But of course he changed,/ she thought, /the last time you saw him he was five. And it is not a bad change, either…/
Arwen blushed at the last thought that ran through her mind.
"Are you alright?" asked Legolas, peering intently at her.
"Oh…yes, of course," she said.
"As I was saying, our home is right across this bridge. Do you see the gates in the cave?"
Arwen squinted. "Yes. You live in a cave?"
Legolas laughed. "Not exactly Rivendell, is it? But it is home, and it is safe. Come."
He took her hand and led her across the bridge, and laid his hand on the gates, whispering words in elvish that she could not quite make out.
As they entered the cave, the gates swung shut behind them. An elf led Asfodel away to their stables as Legolas took her to the throne room.
Great pillars carved out of the living stone stood there, and an empty wooden throne sat at the end.
"He must be away on a hunting party," said Legolas.
Arwen sighed, extremely disappointed. Would she never find her mother?
Something of what she was thinking must have shown on her face, because Legolas said: "Do not loose heart. I will talk to him as soon as he returns."
"That may not be soon enough," she said solemnly. "I have a feeling that my mother is in grave danger. If I do not find her soon…"
Legolas shook his head. "Nevermind. We have some of the best scouts here. They will be able to find her."
Arwen nodded. "Then do you have a room where I can take my leave?"
Legolas called one of the royal attendants to lead her to a room. But before she followed, she turned and slid off the necklace.
"Here," she said. "I do not need this to remember you by anymore. Now you are here."
Legolas smiled as he took the chain. "Thank you, my friend. I shall come and visit your chambers after I speak to my father, to tell you what news there is."
"Come and visit even if there is no news," she said coyly, and followed the servant elf down the corridor.
*****************
By the time Legolas came to visit Arwen's chambers, it was almost nightfall. Arwen was sitting on her bed, fresh from another bath. She was trying in vain to brush out the tangles in her hair.
"Having trouble?" inquired Legolas with a smile.
"Legolas!" Arwen exclaimed. "It is about time! Yes, I'm having trouble- I can't seem to get the knots from my hair."
Legolas took the brush from her hands and sat nimbly down behind her, pulling gently at her hair with it.
"What news is there?" asked Arwen anxiously.
"My Father has not seen head nor tail of her," answered Legolas sympathetically. "But he has sent out a search party. We should have her tracked down within a day."
Arwen twisted her hands in her lap. "I'm sorry, my friend, for being so much trouble. You don't have to do this…"
"Thranduil is close friends with Celebrian. He is concerned for her safety as well- he would search for her even if you had not asked. But why did Lord Elrond let her go by herself?"
"My mother insisted that she couldn't bring an escort with her. I offered to go- but my father said I was too young," said Arwen bitterly.
"I get that a lot, too."
"Really?"
"Yes. But I always manage somehow to get around my father's wishes. I only hope...I only hope that someday I will get his approval."
"He does not approve of you?"
Here, the brush halted its work. Legolas sat silent behind her. She was afraid that somehow she had offended him.
"Legolas?" she asked, turning around to face him, and taking his hands into hers.
Legolas blinked a few times, as if to hold back tears. "Maybe if mother were here, it would be different," he said quietly. "But she's not- and so Father is…very cold, and distant. He's always away. When he is here, he drinks a lot. Sometimes I don't think he means the stuff he says, but it still hurts."
"What does he say?" asked Arwen concernedly.
Legolas shook his head. "He's still a good ruler. He treats his people well," he continued as if she had not asked.
"Legolas?" she asked again. Inwardly, she was horrified that Thranduil could be so cruel. When she was a child in Rivendell, she always pictured Legolas as being happy, running free in the trees. Obviously, that was not the case. But if he did not want to talk about it now, she would wait for him.
"People always say that the wood elves are wild creatures, that spend their days whispering to trees and running along mountain paths. But it does not seem that way to me. You all appear very civilized," she said, switching subjects and turning back around so he could brush the last of the knots from her hair.
Legolas relaxed behind her. "Ha! If you believe that then you should come to the feast tonight," he said.
"Can I?" she asked excitedly.
"Of course. You are my guest," answered Legolas. He finished brushing, and idly ran his hands through her hair. A chill ran down Arwen's spine at the contact.
He rose and stood in front of her. "Come on," he said, grasping her hand.
He tugged her into and old, ornamental bedroom down the hall, and swung open the closet.
"This room was my mother's. You are about her size, so you can have one of her dresses to wear."
Arwen smiled sadly. "No, I could not accept that."
"She would want you to have it. Mother was a kind person." He handed her a long, relatively simple gown, but it was the golden color of turning leaves, with decorative embroidery.
"You are a very generous elf, my friend. Thank you," said Arwen.
"You're welcome. I will wait outside," said Legolas, and he bent and kissed her cheek, then left the room.
Arwen gasped and reached up to trace a finger over the spot of contact, eyes wide. "Legolas!" she moaned.
*****************
The feast was out among the trees. Torches were all about, supplementing the people with light almost as bright as day. Tables were laden with food from the hunt and harvest.
All of the elves agreed that night that Arwen was one of the most beautiful creatures to behold, in her new dress with her hair done up.
"Thank you for having me, Lord Thranduil," she said, attempting to be cordial. To her surprise he was very kind, but she still held a certain dislike for him.
"You are most certainly welcome, young Lady Undomiel. I can assure you that we will find your mother soon, but in the meantime we are pleased to enjoy your company."
Thranduil was dressed in raiment of a deep purple, like that of ripe grapes. He wore on his head a crown of berries and red leaves for autumn.
The fare was excellent- a bit rustic for Arwen's tastes, but still good. The wine was even better, and Arwen took a lot of it, despite some warnings. Legolas sat silent beside her for the duration.
After the feast was done, the tables were taken away to make room for dancing. Musicians began to play.
It was then that Arwen saw what Legolas was talking about earlier. The people burst into songs and games, dancing and laughing and raising a ruckus.
Legolas came up behind her and placed a crown of leaves on her head. "Do you still think we're civilized?" he laughed.
She smiled. "Not as much," she admitted.
"Here, come dance," he said, leading her out where the others were dancing.
It was some of the most fun that Arwen had ever had, spending the night twirling in Legolas's arms. But after a while she began to get drowsy from the wine, and begged him to stop and walk among the trees.
She leaned heavily on him as they wandered away from the party. "The moon is beautiful again tonight," she observed tipsily.
"Yes, it is," said Legolas, who was half supporting her, his arms around her waist as she pressed her face to his chest.
"I think you had a little too much to drink," he continued merrily.
"Yes," she sighed. "But it was so good. Tonight was wonderful, Legolas. Thank you."
"Well, I'm glad you managed to wander into our lake!"
She laughed. "Yes, so am I." For a moment she managed to forget why she was there in the first place, as she raised her head to look into his eyes.
Her heart began to thud painfully in her chest. She was embarrassed by her emotions, until she saw the way he was looking at her.
And just then, they came to notice that they both felt the same way.
Ever so slowly, he brought his lips down upon hers. The kiss started off light, but grew deeper and more heated each moment that passed by. Arwen had lost herself to the passion, and she knew that he had too.
With a gasp, the two broke apart. The mix of alcohol and love gave her a heady feeling, and she would have gladly fallen asleep there in his arms.
The next thing she knew she was back in her bed and Legolas was bending over her.
"Good night, Evenstar," he said warmly, stroking her hair away from her face.
"Stay," she whispered, reaching out her arms to him.
He hesitated a moment, then shook his head. "I'm sorry. I will see you in the morning."
He tucked the sheets about her, and that was all she remembered.
*****************
Arwen rose the next morning with a headache. She got out of bed slowly and got dressed, and then headed down to the throne room to find Legolas.
He was there, standing by an empty throne.
"Legolas!" she cried, and wound her arms around his neck.
"Arwen," he said seriously, and pushed her gently away to look into her eyes.
Suddenly, she noticed that his eyes were overbright.
"What is it?" she asked.
"We found your mother…"
"No…" gasped Arwen, pressing her hand to her lips and squeezing her eyes shut, as if to block out what she was going to hear next.
"I'm so sorry, Arwen. She is…very ill. Our healer is tending to her now, but…."
"No! It cannot be so!" she cried. "Mother…"
She broke down into tears. Her mother was dying!
"I'm sorry. I know what it is like," said Legolas, pulling her close. She buried her face in his chest again and wept, clinging to him like a lifeline. Her worst fears had come true. Her mother…was dying.
*****************
1.'Noro Lim' in my rudimentary understanding of elvish means 'fly'
2.'Isilya', Arwen's handmaiden's name, means 'moon' in Quenya (high elvish) and is used roughly for Wednesday in the days of the week.
A/N: Umm, someone pointed out to me that Greenwood is not directly on the way to Lorien. My answer to that is: Arwen is only one hundred or so, so that she does no know her way around that well. That's why she couldn't find her mother.
Wow, people really like my story!!! 16 reviews- and someone even wants to translate it into Chinese! I didn't think it was that good! Well, I really enjoyed writing this chapter a lot, an' I hope you liked it as much as the last. PLEASE REVIEW AGAIN! (I luv getting reviews)
And also- expect to see Aragorn soon. ^-~