I got many people asking about Andrea's age. Here's the deal: In the first
story, she is a freshman in high school. Elven Dreams has picked up about 4
years after Golden Chain has left off. So yes, she is a bit young in this
one, but this is also about the time of "The Hobbit" so Legolas is a bit
younger here too. (Elven Dreams is AFTER LotR, think Narnia time line, K?)
And to Europa: the fairy spell didn't come from any book really. I tried to
show here comparing M.E. to the semi-modern idea of fairies. And yes, the
last unicorn has recently made two shows-ups in this fic, as this is shown
through Andrea's view for the most part and it is something to connect the
world she knows with the world she is in.
~phe-chan~
Several weeks passed and became several months as Andrea, Legolas, and Morniwen truly began to learn each about the others' respective characters. Legolas learned that Morniwen was not always the gentle, mild-mannered person that he had at first construed her to be, especially when and where Andrea was concerned. Morniwen learned that Andrea truly was a child, small in stature and in self-esteem, and far more so in her knowledge of the world beyond Mirkwood's borders and sometimes even within the realm of Mirkwood itself. Andrea learned to run if ever she caught sight of Morniwen, no matter what mood the Elven-lady was in, and that she could not ride horses, no matter how beautiful the creatures happened to be or how soft to touch.
Ideas began to form in all three persons' individual minds. Andrea began to see that it might not be so impossible as first she had thought to obtain the attentions of the Elven-prince - all that was needed was to stick one foot behind the other and purposefully trip, for when she did, an elf never failed to appear from nowhere to catch her, and as often as not, that elf was Legolas. She also discovered that there was a circumstance under which she did not need to retreat from Morniwen's presence: the circumstance in which that presence was complemented by Legolas'. If both Legolas AND Morniwen were in attendance, one of two things would invariably happen: one, that Morniwen made all possible efforts to control her temper in front of the prince, and so would not verbally attack Andrea; or two, that she would forget to restrain herself and then lash out at the young human, whom Legolas would promptly champion, achieving both Andrea's safety and a point against Morniwen in the elf- prince's eyes and memory.
In Legolas' mind there began to shape itself the idea that Morniwen and himself were not so well matched as had thought he and his father (this notion was undoubtedly helped along by the frequent encounters in which Andrea's appearance elicited the worst from the female elf). He began to consider, very infrequently and for very brief periods of time, the idea of breaking off his courtship with Morniwen. However, as a prudent and cautious son of royalty, he refused to act upon such a notion until he was certain it was in both his and Morniwen's best interest to do so.
To Morniwen there had come but one idea, one notion, one conclusion, one plan: Andrea was a distraction to Legolas; Andrea took Legolas' attention away from Morniwen; Andrea was a threat to Morniwen; and, as such, she must be removed. forthwith.
But, stay! For now we relate to you a few of the above mentioned interviews, as will any bard of even passing and insignificant worth.
Legolas was sitting on the thick branch of a mossy, old oak tree, one leg swinging idly in the air, with the intent of preventing a potentially explosive situation. It was about the time of day when Morniwen generally undertook her routine excursion through the southern groves of Mirkwood, or at least those groves sufficiently close to Thranduil's palace that one might reach them and return within one night. Laughing to himself, Legolas reflected that one might even call it a pilgrimage, the elven-girl observed it so religiously. He could never extract from his dark-haired lady the knowledge of why or where she went, but go she did, every afternoon at dusk.
Thus was her passing through the clearing dangerously imminent. Normally, he would have thought, what of it? But today that ridiculously endearing little human had somehow managed to choose the one spot that she ought not be anywhere near to spend the day to amuse herself in. If she and Morniwen met, sparks would inevitably fly. This it was that Legolas sought to anticipate and hopefully to forestall.
As surely as the Dooms of Mandos came infallibly to pass, Morniwen soon appeared to find Andrea, for lack of anything more entertaining to do, drawing a horse in the dust with a twig. Legolas sat up and made ready to leap between the twp females should things become too... unpleasant. He was unprepared for the ensuing conversation.
"Hello, Dark Lady," said Andrea, affecting a tone of absent- minded nonchalance. She knew that Legolas was in the tree across the glade, or she would not have been quite so much at her ease. Why he was there, Andrea neither knew nor cared; she knew only that he had been there, silent and virtually unblinking, the entire day.
" 'Dark Lady'?" Morniwen frowned.
She happened to be in a somewhat indulgent humor.
"Isn't that what your name means? No offense, but I kinda can't pronounce it."
"You pronounce 'Legolas' well enough."
Andrea thought of telling Morniwen that it had taken an hour of Legolas' careful coaching for the young human to pronounce the prince's name, but realized that that would probably only cause more grief for Legolas. Instead, she asked bluntly,
"Why are you so scared of me?"
On his oak-branch, Legolas sat up even straighter as Morniwen bridled visibly. Did the little mortal delight in pain?
"Scared?" Morniwen pronounced in threatening tones. "Do you presume me FRIGHTENED of you?"
"I know you are, or else you wouldn't be so nasty."
"Nasty?" Morniwen enunciated, her black eyes starting lividly.
Legolas actually stood up on the branch.
"Hate to tell ya this, but you're about as pleasant as a wet toad."
Hitherto, Andrea had not looked up from her dust-sketch. Now she raised her eyes to meet the elf-maid's and added defiantly,
"A SCARED wet toad."
"You have never dared before this to speak to me so boldly," Morniwen exclaimed, her curiosity and surprise gaining mastery over her anger and indignation.
Realizing that she had assumed, at least in part, the role of aggressor in the eyes of Legolas and Morniwen, Andrea backed off radically.
"You're just always so mean to me," she sighed, dropping her eyes again and being, though meek, completely honest, "and I've never done ANYTHING to you. Besides," she continued, dropping her voice so low that even Legolas' quick ears could not hear it, and Morniwen, standing over the girl, struggled to make out Andrea's words, "why would he want me, when he's got you?"
Sympathy had no part in Morniwen's character. With a hurtful laugh, she responded,
"Why indeed, young mortal?" There was a crushingly suggestive accent on her last word.
Andrea flinched and ran her finger through the dust. Morniwen walked away and left her there. Legolas could not think what Morniwen could have said to upset the little human girl, but he had the strangest feeling in the pit of his stomach. He had to force himself to believe that he loved Morniwen; the feeling no longer flowed from his heart. He went from alarm to anger to a feeling of tiredness that tried to persuade him that he wanted nothing more to do with females, that they were far too complex for his would-be carefree elven mind. Still, said another voice inside of him, I must at least console Andrea, for she grieves mightily.
With a quick leap, he stood over the young girl. She did not look up at him. He waited for a long moment for her to speak, but she was silent. She looked up at the sky to the west.
"What do you see?" he asked quietly.
"Pretty sunset," she whispered in a choked voice. "I'm going to capture one someday," she went on in a determined tone. "I will."
"First the stars, now the sun," laughed Legolas kindly. "What then?"
"The moon," Andrea stated matter-of-factly.
"Perhaps such things were not meant to be tamed," Legolas suggested gently; "it may be that they are too wild."
Like you? Thought Andrea with a small smile.
"Well, maybe it'll be alright if I just take a little piece of them," she said.
"With a piece of the sun missing, and of the moon, and of the stars, will the sky be the same?"
"I just want to paint them!" Andrea cried miserably. Weren't Elves supposed to understand poetic metaphors?
"I see," murmured Legolas, much astonished. The child enjoyed painting? "I do see. Then I hope that you do catch all of the stars at once, Little One."
Andrea gave a squeak like a small rodent's and flushed with pleasure.
"You think I can?"
"I know it."
Legolas spent the next day inside his father's palace hunting several different things. He gathered up some blank sheets of parchment, together with the inks and dyes of his people. He also managed to find a few brushes and pens. Putting these tools into a small wooden box and curling up the papers, he waited till nightfall and placed these treasures outside of Andrea's chamber door.
~phe-chan~
Several weeks passed and became several months as Andrea, Legolas, and Morniwen truly began to learn each about the others' respective characters. Legolas learned that Morniwen was not always the gentle, mild-mannered person that he had at first construed her to be, especially when and where Andrea was concerned. Morniwen learned that Andrea truly was a child, small in stature and in self-esteem, and far more so in her knowledge of the world beyond Mirkwood's borders and sometimes even within the realm of Mirkwood itself. Andrea learned to run if ever she caught sight of Morniwen, no matter what mood the Elven-lady was in, and that she could not ride horses, no matter how beautiful the creatures happened to be or how soft to touch.
Ideas began to form in all three persons' individual minds. Andrea began to see that it might not be so impossible as first she had thought to obtain the attentions of the Elven-prince - all that was needed was to stick one foot behind the other and purposefully trip, for when she did, an elf never failed to appear from nowhere to catch her, and as often as not, that elf was Legolas. She also discovered that there was a circumstance under which she did not need to retreat from Morniwen's presence: the circumstance in which that presence was complemented by Legolas'. If both Legolas AND Morniwen were in attendance, one of two things would invariably happen: one, that Morniwen made all possible efforts to control her temper in front of the prince, and so would not verbally attack Andrea; or two, that she would forget to restrain herself and then lash out at the young human, whom Legolas would promptly champion, achieving both Andrea's safety and a point against Morniwen in the elf- prince's eyes and memory.
In Legolas' mind there began to shape itself the idea that Morniwen and himself were not so well matched as had thought he and his father (this notion was undoubtedly helped along by the frequent encounters in which Andrea's appearance elicited the worst from the female elf). He began to consider, very infrequently and for very brief periods of time, the idea of breaking off his courtship with Morniwen. However, as a prudent and cautious son of royalty, he refused to act upon such a notion until he was certain it was in both his and Morniwen's best interest to do so.
To Morniwen there had come but one idea, one notion, one conclusion, one plan: Andrea was a distraction to Legolas; Andrea took Legolas' attention away from Morniwen; Andrea was a threat to Morniwen; and, as such, she must be removed. forthwith.
But, stay! For now we relate to you a few of the above mentioned interviews, as will any bard of even passing and insignificant worth.
Legolas was sitting on the thick branch of a mossy, old oak tree, one leg swinging idly in the air, with the intent of preventing a potentially explosive situation. It was about the time of day when Morniwen generally undertook her routine excursion through the southern groves of Mirkwood, or at least those groves sufficiently close to Thranduil's palace that one might reach them and return within one night. Laughing to himself, Legolas reflected that one might even call it a pilgrimage, the elven-girl observed it so religiously. He could never extract from his dark-haired lady the knowledge of why or where she went, but go she did, every afternoon at dusk.
Thus was her passing through the clearing dangerously imminent. Normally, he would have thought, what of it? But today that ridiculously endearing little human had somehow managed to choose the one spot that she ought not be anywhere near to spend the day to amuse herself in. If she and Morniwen met, sparks would inevitably fly. This it was that Legolas sought to anticipate and hopefully to forestall.
As surely as the Dooms of Mandos came infallibly to pass, Morniwen soon appeared to find Andrea, for lack of anything more entertaining to do, drawing a horse in the dust with a twig. Legolas sat up and made ready to leap between the twp females should things become too... unpleasant. He was unprepared for the ensuing conversation.
"Hello, Dark Lady," said Andrea, affecting a tone of absent- minded nonchalance. She knew that Legolas was in the tree across the glade, or she would not have been quite so much at her ease. Why he was there, Andrea neither knew nor cared; she knew only that he had been there, silent and virtually unblinking, the entire day.
" 'Dark Lady'?" Morniwen frowned.
She happened to be in a somewhat indulgent humor.
"Isn't that what your name means? No offense, but I kinda can't pronounce it."
"You pronounce 'Legolas' well enough."
Andrea thought of telling Morniwen that it had taken an hour of Legolas' careful coaching for the young human to pronounce the prince's name, but realized that that would probably only cause more grief for Legolas. Instead, she asked bluntly,
"Why are you so scared of me?"
On his oak-branch, Legolas sat up even straighter as Morniwen bridled visibly. Did the little mortal delight in pain?
"Scared?" Morniwen pronounced in threatening tones. "Do you presume me FRIGHTENED of you?"
"I know you are, or else you wouldn't be so nasty."
"Nasty?" Morniwen enunciated, her black eyes starting lividly.
Legolas actually stood up on the branch.
"Hate to tell ya this, but you're about as pleasant as a wet toad."
Hitherto, Andrea had not looked up from her dust-sketch. Now she raised her eyes to meet the elf-maid's and added defiantly,
"A SCARED wet toad."
"You have never dared before this to speak to me so boldly," Morniwen exclaimed, her curiosity and surprise gaining mastery over her anger and indignation.
Realizing that she had assumed, at least in part, the role of aggressor in the eyes of Legolas and Morniwen, Andrea backed off radically.
"You're just always so mean to me," she sighed, dropping her eyes again and being, though meek, completely honest, "and I've never done ANYTHING to you. Besides," she continued, dropping her voice so low that even Legolas' quick ears could not hear it, and Morniwen, standing over the girl, struggled to make out Andrea's words, "why would he want me, when he's got you?"
Sympathy had no part in Morniwen's character. With a hurtful laugh, she responded,
"Why indeed, young mortal?" There was a crushingly suggestive accent on her last word.
Andrea flinched and ran her finger through the dust. Morniwen walked away and left her there. Legolas could not think what Morniwen could have said to upset the little human girl, but he had the strangest feeling in the pit of his stomach. He had to force himself to believe that he loved Morniwen; the feeling no longer flowed from his heart. He went from alarm to anger to a feeling of tiredness that tried to persuade him that he wanted nothing more to do with females, that they were far too complex for his would-be carefree elven mind. Still, said another voice inside of him, I must at least console Andrea, for she grieves mightily.
With a quick leap, he stood over the young girl. She did not look up at him. He waited for a long moment for her to speak, but she was silent. She looked up at the sky to the west.
"What do you see?" he asked quietly.
"Pretty sunset," she whispered in a choked voice. "I'm going to capture one someday," she went on in a determined tone. "I will."
"First the stars, now the sun," laughed Legolas kindly. "What then?"
"The moon," Andrea stated matter-of-factly.
"Perhaps such things were not meant to be tamed," Legolas suggested gently; "it may be that they are too wild."
Like you? Thought Andrea with a small smile.
"Well, maybe it'll be alright if I just take a little piece of them," she said.
"With a piece of the sun missing, and of the moon, and of the stars, will the sky be the same?"
"I just want to paint them!" Andrea cried miserably. Weren't Elves supposed to understand poetic metaphors?
"I see," murmured Legolas, much astonished. The child enjoyed painting? "I do see. Then I hope that you do catch all of the stars at once, Little One."
Andrea gave a squeak like a small rodent's and flushed with pleasure.
"You think I can?"
"I know it."
Legolas spent the next day inside his father's palace hunting several different things. He gathered up some blank sheets of parchment, together with the inks and dyes of his people. He also managed to find a few brushes and pens. Putting these tools into a small wooden box and curling up the papers, he waited till nightfall and placed these treasures outside of Andrea's chamber door.