A Cure for Love

Lea of Mirkwood

Disclaimer: I do not own anything you would find in the novels of J.R.R. Tolkien. Ciriel and Eleniel are mine, as are the random Elves you find walking around.

Author's Note: This applies to most of my fics as well. Since over the past nine weeks, I have either been in a frenzy to write (that would be past few weeks) or have NOT written, I feel extremely guilty. I really respect my writing, and by that I do not mean I think I am "all that and a bag of chips." I mean that I will not just post a scrap of shit for the hell of it without putting some of my blood into it. Figuratively. So I will try to get a chapter of SOMETHING up each week.

2948, Rivendell

Eleniel glided into her room overlooking the river and sighed deeply. She ran her slender fingers through her long pale hair, so rare among the Elves. A laugh like silver bells escaped her soft pink lips as she rushed to the window and looked out. Then she turned to her right and spotted a small note from her sister.

Eleniel-

Library.

Ciriel

Eleniel let out a small shriek and stomped her foot, making no noise at all. The lovely Elven maiden whirled around on her heel and stalked from the room.

After a few minutes of quick paced not-really-running-because-that-would-be-unladylike, Eleniel found herself in the near center of the Last Homely House, as far from the windows and the sun as possible, and Eleniel's least favorite place. She swung open the door and quickly walked in, waving an impatient hand at the visiting Galdor as he quickly rose at her entrance. Far too polite, that one.

"Ciriel!" called Eleniel. "Ciriel!"

Eleniel found her sister crouched by a stack of parchment near the wall. Ciriel was clad in a simple dark tunic and breeches, her long black hair pulled back in a simple utilitarian braid. So much of Ciriel was simple. Her dark grey eyes were simple and thoughtful. They were the same color as wet granite and smoke. Occasionally light as smoky twilight, but then dark as wet pebbles. Eleniel's sister slowly stood to look at her.

"Eleniel?" she asked. "I could hear you when you were in our room. Your voice is so shrill."

Eleniel laughed, a sweet sound that made Galdor look up and shake his head. "Come, Ciriel, do not taunt me at a time like this!"

"A time like what?"

"A time when I have found a new face! It has been so dull here for the longest time. Galdor arrived so long ago and now he spends all his time in the dreadful library with you. Someone new is here!"

"Yes, I know," mumbled Ciriel, picking up a few parchments and leafing through them. "Prince Legolas of Greenwood."

Eleniel sighed. "How do you know?" Eleniel felt so frustrated she could just scream.

"Galdor tells me things."

As said Elf passed by where the two sisters stood talking, he raised one of the parchments he carried to the side of his face, hiding a smile. Eleniel watched the older Elf walk past, and then stared at her sister with an expression of supreme annoyance.

"Why does he tell you these things and not me?" she whined, feeling the ease of a sibling. The only place Eleniel could truly whine and the only person she could whine to was, in a word: sister. Ciriel shrugged and sat down at the table to study a few more parchments.

"Perhaps because I take the time to discuss things other than...whatever you discuss," replied the raven-haired Elf.

"Ciriel, you're not being quite fair."

"Neither are you!" exclaimed Ciriel, looking up at last. "I am trying to concentrate here, and you come in with these stories of new Elves and fair faces. Did you beguile him already with your sweet voice?"

Eleniel's silence spoke volumes. Ciriel shrugged again.

"Come, Eleniel, just go talk to him if you so wish newer company."

"I will," snipped Eleniel and turned away. Ciriel sighed and looked back at her work. Galdor, sneaking a look at the two sisters as they parted, caught a rare moment that described their unique relationship. As Eleniel floated out of the room, flaxen hair flowing down her back like a river and blue eyes glimmering, Ciriel looked up with a soft smile on her face. Despite Eleniel's irksome habits, Ciriel confided to him once, which really weren't irksome habits at all, just perfect, she did love her. There was no jealousy or malice between the two. Eleniel just thought sometimes that Ciriel was looking for someone that she wasn't.

--- --- ---

Legolas was desperate. He had only seen Eleniel two hours ago, and was still not coherent enough to ask someone who she was. Finally he had found Elladan. Thank Elbereth for Elladan. Legolas, however, was forced to speak in sentence fragments. It took all of his father's training in protocol and etiquette for Elladan not to leap out of his chair and smack Legolas upside the head for acting such a fool.

"Hair...like gold. Eyes? Sapphire and sparkle. Cheeks as pink as roses, skin pale as moon. Yay-high?" concluded Legolas, waving his hand somewhere in the vicinity of his Eleniel's general height. "Sings like...some beautiful...looks like...fairer than LĂșthien."

Elladan was hard-pressed not to shriek out the words: "NOT! POSSIBLE!"

"I'm afraid I cannot find for you a maiden fairer than LĂșthien, my northern friend. However, apart from that lapse in description, I can think of an Elven maiden that fits that description, and has also..." Forced other Elves to speak nonsense and act like fools, but Elladan would not say that. Legolas leaned forward and his eyes lit up. Elladan leaned back. I hope this isn't catching.

"Who?" whispered Legolas. "What is her name?"

Elladan really didn't want to tell Legolas. Somehow, he felt if he told him, his friend would spend the next few weeks repeating the name dreamily and singing it to her from under her bedroom window. (Hopefully not the latter, since Eleniel's window overlooked the river.)

"Eleniel."

"Eleniel..." repeated Legolas. "Daughter of the Stars."

"Excuse me," muttered Elladan, leaving the Elven prince to continue repeating a single word.

--- --- ---

Poor, poor, poor Legolas.