Shadow of a Doubt
Chapter Eight - Sleep Sound
By Capella no da
Note: this is a rare occurance! I've been hit by inspiration to write a new chapter -- with more Harry angst of course, what else? By the way, if you get confused in the story about the trees (you'll see what I mean) look at the bottom where I have the notes. It'll explain all to you :)
this chapter is dedicated to the reviewers, as always:
Eternal firesinger, mare, dark hikari kamiya (i updated finally -- although i'm sure it's not what everybody wanted, you little hentais *^_^*), Tschubi-chan *gives you a great big ol hug* (i'm working on the alternate ending to fetish as we speak! it's just er, in the works *^_^*), M14Mouse, gwen (i probably shouldn't have skipped the bridge of khazadum, but i couldn't honestly think of what to do...i know, i'm a lousy writer hehe), Pheonix, Kivessa, Silent Stalker, and Lady bisenshi. :) you guys are great!
And next chapter i'll probably have a peice of Ron in here or something, because i don't wanna leave him out of the story forever.
One more thing: Harry and Boromir are NOT a couple. I just thought that Boromir would make a great brother figure to Harry. So stop being the little hentais you are -- Boromir's a platonic relationship. :)
And also, some of the events are out of place, but i'm not going totally by the book. Deal.
ENJOY! (no song quote today, sadly)
_______________________
Harry's vision was finally beginning to get a little watery, his feet not as steady as they had been after a day of rest. Beside the fact, of course, that he had been on his feet for less than ten minutes.
"That is Durin's Stone!" Gimli cried, "I cannot pass without turning aside for the moment to look at the wonders of that dale!"
The rough voice interrupted Harry's stupor that had been slowly taking over his mind, the wake from near sleep seeming like a gust of cold air. Harry blinked once, twice, and looked around him, noticing for the first time that Frodo looked near as rough as he did.
"Come Frodo, Harry! I would not have you go without seeing Kheled-zaram!" Springing down the green slope, the dwarf was full of life and energy. Harry was instantly envious.
Frodo looked up at him with big puppy dog eyes full of physical hurt, making Harry remember that spear near piercing the young hobbit's side. He placed a hand on Frodo's shoulder and offered him a half smile which was more of a grimace. He lead the way down where the dwarf had galloped. They barely noticed Sam following silently.
The turquoise waters that opened up in front of him glittered like gems to his eyes, the mid day sun making the particles floating in the air sparkle and shimmer. Gimli was already standing impatiently next to a cracked and weathered standing stone, its carved sides unreadable with time.
"Come, Frodo, let us look in the pool ere we go!" Both dwarf and hobbit hunched over the pool. Gimli let out a shout of joy. "O Kheled zaram fair and wonderful! There lies the crown of Durin til he wakes. Farewell!" The dwarf sketched a quick little bow, and both him and Frodo trudged back up the hill.
Harry looked behind his shoulder, watching them go, then bent over the pond. But the image that emerged slowly wasn't any crown.
It was three trees, proud and in their youth. Their leaves were gold and silver, and bright rays of light issued from each tree. Then, slowly, the hazelnut and the willow steadily leaned toward each other, their green and yellow light mingling and making an even more beautiful collage of colors. The walnut tree, left alone and without the other's light, slowly withered away and died, its red light fading away.
Harry leaned back violently, staring at the pond. He pressed his palms against his f and slowly walked back to the company.
_______________________
By the time he had made the trek back up the slope his vision had returned to the way it was. Deep shadows lengthened everything, making the world seem frightening and dark. Afraid to reveal this to the others just to be told that he was a burden, too weak to take care of himself, he kept his mouth shut.
An hour passed. Harry looked over at Sam and Frodo, noticing blearily that they looked as weak as he. The back of his leg ached terribly, alternating between freezing cold and blazing fire. Cold sweat ran down his face as the three struggled to t keep up. After what seemed like forever Legolas looked back and concern entered his face. The elf turned and whispered something to Aragorn, who looked dismayed and ran back, calling for Legolas and Boromir to follow him.
"I am sorry Frodo," he cried, "I have forgotten about your hurts, and Harry and Sam too. Come Legolas, Boromir, we will carry them."
Aragorn scooped up Sam, who was considerably lighter, and held him in his arms as he would a small child. Frodo was carried by Legolas, and Harry was relieved and happy beyond words when Boromir picked him up gently and offered him a soft smile. "Sleep, Harry," he whispered, laying a hand on Harry's damp forehead. Harry yawned and in a minute was asleep.
______________________
Harry awoke to soft voices conversing above him. He opened his eyes and tried to lift a hand to rub them, dismayed when he barely had the strength to do even that. The searing torment from his leg had spread to the rest of his body and in a sudden flash of knowledge he realized the blade that had pierced him had been poisoned. Of course it had, he thought fuzzily, everything here is poison. He wasn't quite sure what he meant by that.
Sam sat beside him, a bandage over one eye and wrapped around his head. He looked, Harry thought, like a child war veteran. His thoughts were bordering dangerously on hysteria.
Aragorn was rubbing some sort of water into Frodo's side, where a dark, ugly bruise had formed. The scent of the water floated towards Harry, and the shadows lifted from his eyes even as the pain receded. Aragorn noticed he was awake and nodded towards him, concerned.
"You have taken a grave hurt, young wizard," he said in a gentle tone that contrasted his words. "The sword you were struck with was poisoned and it was a large wound that is already beginning to infect. I will wash it with athelas but it will take a while to heal."
Aragorn brought leaves over to Harry and crushed them, putting the leaves in water and washing his leg. Instead of the fiery hurt, it was simply and blissfully numb now, and as the scent drifted toward him, his vision nearly cleared. He felt well enough to almost walk. Almost. He was afraid to ask, afraid to be a burden, but Boromir solved that for him.
The big man smiled gruffly down at him. "I'll carry you, little wizard," he said, and with almost no effort he picked Harry up and looked at Aragorn for instructions.
"You have missed much, Harry. We are in the forest of the Lady of the Wood, Galadriel." When Harry looked at him questioningly, he added, "Lothlorien." His eyes glazed in remembrance, looking up to the sky, murmuring, "Glad am I to hear again the wind in the trees!" He and Legolas stepped forward, hobbits trailing along behind, but Boromir stood firm. Harry looked up at the man questioningly.
"Is there no other way?"
"What fairer way would you desire? Besides, man, we are already deep in the forest, near the singing waters of the Nimrodel. We only have a short way to journey. Come, Boromir. I assure you, no undeserved harm will come to you in these woods."
"Then lead on!" Boromir said, a hint of doubt in the deep voice. "But it is perilous."
"Perilous indeed, but fair and perilous; but only evil near fear it, or those who bring evil with them. Follow me!"
________________________
The company had not gone far when the sweet effects of the athelas leaf began to wear off. Harry's sight began to dim again, making everything seem as if it was in eternal night. Only Frodo seemed lit by an unholy fire, burning at his chest. He started to nod off in Boromir's arms, his face nestled on the big man's shoulder. He shivered with a sudden cold.
After a while Harry started hearing rushing water; the stream, he assumed, sounded like tinkling bells. Slowly he perceived that the bell like sound of the water was forming delicate words, flowing into sentences. The voice sounded just like the stream, clear and soft with a lilting accent.
Steadily the fog over his vision cleared, and he was able to see Legolas standing next to a blue, rushing river, opening his mouth in song.
As the song went on, strangely Harry began to feel better, the aches and pains in his limbs reducing to near nothing and his senses returning. The lilting song faded out and stopped, replaced by the gentle words of Legolas speaking. Harry didn't focus on the words, trying to stay awake. He felt better but incredibly tired. The song had worked its own sort of magic on him.
The company began to move at last, deeper into the forest. Harry grew restless in Boromir's arms.
"I can walk," he complained hoarsely. Boromir nearly dropped him in shock.
"I had feared you were dead, little wizard," he exclaimed, setting Harry on his feet, who wavered for a moment.
"I - I just needed some time, is all." Harry didn't feel like telling the man about Legolas's song; for some reason it seemed too intimate, too private.
Boromir smiled. "Its a good thing you woke, for I was getting tired. I have carried you for a good day and a half, through the woods of Lothlorien. We're going to make camp, here," he said, and looked rather displeased.
"Where?" Harry asked, puzzled, as he looked around the forest floor.
Boromir looked even more disgusted and pointed up to the trees. Harry nearly fell over. They were sleeping in a tree? At the moment, Boromir's arms seemed a lot more comfortable, and he considered fainting again, figuring it was the only way he'd get any sleep that night.
For the first time he noticed his companions. Feeling a little guilty at neglecting Legolas for so long, he walked shakily up to the elf, who was contemplating a tree. Touching the elf's arm, he offered a weak smile that was returned with blinding brilliance. Legolas casually slipped an arm around Harry's waist that the wizard didn't shrug off.
"I will climb up. I am at home in the trees, by root or bough, though these trees are of a kind strange to me, save as a name in song. Mellyrn they are called, and are those that bear the yellow blossom, but I have never climbed in one. I will see now what is their shape and way of growth." With suprising grace, he leapt up and grabbed a branch. But even as he was about to climb farther, a command issued from the tree in a voice much like Legolas's.
"Daro!"
Legolas fell down to the ground and looked up, shrinking against the trunk of the tree. "Stay perfectly still and do not move!" he hissed. The tinkling laughter made him relax his tensed body, and he sent significant glances to everyone in the company. A question in Elven came down from the branches and Legolas spoke back in kind. Harry looked at him in amazement.
"Who are they and what do they say?" Merry asked.
"They're Elves," answered Sam, looking up, "can't you hear their voices?"
Legolas looked over at them in amusement, all traces of earlier fear gone. "They are elves, and they say you breathe so loudly they could shoot you in the dark." Sam covered his mouth with his hand, trying not to make noise. Harry resisted the urge to grin. "They also say that you need have no fear. They have been aware of us for a long while. They heard my voice across the Nimrodel and knew that I was one of their own. Now they bid me climb up with Frodo; for they have some tidings of him and his journey. The others they ask to wait a little and keep watch, until they decide what is to be done."
Harry waited until Legolas and Frodo were out of sight to collapse against the tree trunk, breathing loudly and not caring. Resting one hand against his slightly sweaty forehead, he closed his eyes and slipped into sleep.
_______________________
Late in the night he woke. Blinking, thinking he was in a dream, he looked around the flet he was on, wrapped up in a soft blanket. He decided that it wasn't a dream, but should be, so yawning he laid his head back down.
Suddenly a golden-haired head appeared at the entrance. It was Legolas.
"What is it?" Harry asked sleepily, and more than a little crankily.
"Orc!" Legolas said, mouth twisted in a grimace. "Stay here. You are in danger." With that short warning he seemingly flew back down the tree in haste.
Yeah right, Harry thought wryly, climbing to his feet with a just a little spark of pain in his leg. He climbed down the tree-ladder slowly, taking care not to fall the twenty feet to the ground below. When he reached the dirt and grass covered floor, shadows casting threatening figures all around, he began to think he should have stayed in the tree. "Lumos!" he said softly, bathing the clearing in a soft glow for a few moments. Suddenly hearing footsteps, a strange foreboding clenched his heart with a cold fear. He muttered "nox" and crouched behind his tree, peering around the corner.
Strange words reached his ears about the same time the footsteps were twenty feet away from the tree he hid behind. They weren't the pretty voices of elves nor the same lilting language. They were Orcs and they were heading right for where he was.
Don't find me, he prayed, at the same time wondering if the Orcs had a good sense of smell. He hoped to God they didn't.
Dread filled him when he heard the voices get excited and louder, obviously something had caught their attention. He crouched lower behind the tree, inhaling the sweet smell of flowers and feeling the mossy trunk beneath his fingers and wondering if they were the last things he'd ever remember.
Then a sharp pain to his neck and a sickening crack, and he fell spiraling into unconsiousness.
________________________
NOTES: Here are the reasons for the trees -- i actually got these off Fungrams.
The hazelnut tree is Harry, the Weeping Willow is Legolas, and the walnut tree is Ron. here's why:
Harry: HAZELNUT TREE (the Extraordinary) - charming, undemanding, very understanding, knows how to make an impression, active fighter for social cause, popular, moody, and capricious lover, honest and tolerant partner, precise sense of judgment.
Ron: WALNUT TREE(the Passion) - unrelenting, strange and full of contrasts, often egotistic, aggressive, noble, broad horizon, unexpected reactions, spontaneous, unlimited ambition, no flexibility, difficult and uncommon partner, not always liked but often admired, ingenious strategist, very jealous and passionate, no compromise.
Legolas: WEEPING WILLOW(the Melancholy) - beautiful but full of melancholy, attractive, very empathetic, loves anything beautiful and tasteful, loves to travel, dreamer, restless, capricious, honest, can be influenced but is not easy to live with, demanding, good intuition, suffers in love but finds sometimes an anchoring partner.
So you see why I did that? Now i bet it has a lot more meaning, eh?
Chapter Eight - Sleep Sound
By Capella no da
Note: this is a rare occurance! I've been hit by inspiration to write a new chapter -- with more Harry angst of course, what else? By the way, if you get confused in the story about the trees (you'll see what I mean) look at the bottom where I have the notes. It'll explain all to you :)
this chapter is dedicated to the reviewers, as always:
Eternal firesinger, mare, dark hikari kamiya (i updated finally -- although i'm sure it's not what everybody wanted, you little hentais *^_^*), Tschubi-chan *gives you a great big ol hug* (i'm working on the alternate ending to fetish as we speak! it's just er, in the works *^_^*), M14Mouse, gwen (i probably shouldn't have skipped the bridge of khazadum, but i couldn't honestly think of what to do...i know, i'm a lousy writer hehe), Pheonix, Kivessa, Silent Stalker, and Lady bisenshi. :) you guys are great!
And next chapter i'll probably have a peice of Ron in here or something, because i don't wanna leave him out of the story forever.
One more thing: Harry and Boromir are NOT a couple. I just thought that Boromir would make a great brother figure to Harry. So stop being the little hentais you are -- Boromir's a platonic relationship. :)
And also, some of the events are out of place, but i'm not going totally by the book. Deal.
ENJOY! (no song quote today, sadly)
_______________________
Harry's vision was finally beginning to get a little watery, his feet not as steady as they had been after a day of rest. Beside the fact, of course, that he had been on his feet for less than ten minutes.
"That is Durin's Stone!" Gimli cried, "I cannot pass without turning aside for the moment to look at the wonders of that dale!"
The rough voice interrupted Harry's stupor that had been slowly taking over his mind, the wake from near sleep seeming like a gust of cold air. Harry blinked once, twice, and looked around him, noticing for the first time that Frodo looked near as rough as he did.
"Come Frodo, Harry! I would not have you go without seeing Kheled-zaram!" Springing down the green slope, the dwarf was full of life and energy. Harry was instantly envious.
Frodo looked up at him with big puppy dog eyes full of physical hurt, making Harry remember that spear near piercing the young hobbit's side. He placed a hand on Frodo's shoulder and offered him a half smile which was more of a grimace. He lead the way down where the dwarf had galloped. They barely noticed Sam following silently.
The turquoise waters that opened up in front of him glittered like gems to his eyes, the mid day sun making the particles floating in the air sparkle and shimmer. Gimli was already standing impatiently next to a cracked and weathered standing stone, its carved sides unreadable with time.
"Come, Frodo, let us look in the pool ere we go!" Both dwarf and hobbit hunched over the pool. Gimli let out a shout of joy. "O Kheled zaram fair and wonderful! There lies the crown of Durin til he wakes. Farewell!" The dwarf sketched a quick little bow, and both him and Frodo trudged back up the hill.
Harry looked behind his shoulder, watching them go, then bent over the pond. But the image that emerged slowly wasn't any crown.
It was three trees, proud and in their youth. Their leaves were gold and silver, and bright rays of light issued from each tree. Then, slowly, the hazelnut and the willow steadily leaned toward each other, their green and yellow light mingling and making an even more beautiful collage of colors. The walnut tree, left alone and without the other's light, slowly withered away and died, its red light fading away.
Harry leaned back violently, staring at the pond. He pressed his palms against his f and slowly walked back to the company.
_______________________
By the time he had made the trek back up the slope his vision had returned to the way it was. Deep shadows lengthened everything, making the world seem frightening and dark. Afraid to reveal this to the others just to be told that he was a burden, too weak to take care of himself, he kept his mouth shut.
An hour passed. Harry looked over at Sam and Frodo, noticing blearily that they looked as weak as he. The back of his leg ached terribly, alternating between freezing cold and blazing fire. Cold sweat ran down his face as the three struggled to t keep up. After what seemed like forever Legolas looked back and concern entered his face. The elf turned and whispered something to Aragorn, who looked dismayed and ran back, calling for Legolas and Boromir to follow him.
"I am sorry Frodo," he cried, "I have forgotten about your hurts, and Harry and Sam too. Come Legolas, Boromir, we will carry them."
Aragorn scooped up Sam, who was considerably lighter, and held him in his arms as he would a small child. Frodo was carried by Legolas, and Harry was relieved and happy beyond words when Boromir picked him up gently and offered him a soft smile. "Sleep, Harry," he whispered, laying a hand on Harry's damp forehead. Harry yawned and in a minute was asleep.
______________________
Harry awoke to soft voices conversing above him. He opened his eyes and tried to lift a hand to rub them, dismayed when he barely had the strength to do even that. The searing torment from his leg had spread to the rest of his body and in a sudden flash of knowledge he realized the blade that had pierced him had been poisoned. Of course it had, he thought fuzzily, everything here is poison. He wasn't quite sure what he meant by that.
Sam sat beside him, a bandage over one eye and wrapped around his head. He looked, Harry thought, like a child war veteran. His thoughts were bordering dangerously on hysteria.
Aragorn was rubbing some sort of water into Frodo's side, where a dark, ugly bruise had formed. The scent of the water floated towards Harry, and the shadows lifted from his eyes even as the pain receded. Aragorn noticed he was awake and nodded towards him, concerned.
"You have taken a grave hurt, young wizard," he said in a gentle tone that contrasted his words. "The sword you were struck with was poisoned and it was a large wound that is already beginning to infect. I will wash it with athelas but it will take a while to heal."
Aragorn brought leaves over to Harry and crushed them, putting the leaves in water and washing his leg. Instead of the fiery hurt, it was simply and blissfully numb now, and as the scent drifted toward him, his vision nearly cleared. He felt well enough to almost walk. Almost. He was afraid to ask, afraid to be a burden, but Boromir solved that for him.
The big man smiled gruffly down at him. "I'll carry you, little wizard," he said, and with almost no effort he picked Harry up and looked at Aragorn for instructions.
"You have missed much, Harry. We are in the forest of the Lady of the Wood, Galadriel." When Harry looked at him questioningly, he added, "Lothlorien." His eyes glazed in remembrance, looking up to the sky, murmuring, "Glad am I to hear again the wind in the trees!" He and Legolas stepped forward, hobbits trailing along behind, but Boromir stood firm. Harry looked up at the man questioningly.
"Is there no other way?"
"What fairer way would you desire? Besides, man, we are already deep in the forest, near the singing waters of the Nimrodel. We only have a short way to journey. Come, Boromir. I assure you, no undeserved harm will come to you in these woods."
"Then lead on!" Boromir said, a hint of doubt in the deep voice. "But it is perilous."
"Perilous indeed, but fair and perilous; but only evil near fear it, or those who bring evil with them. Follow me!"
________________________
The company had not gone far when the sweet effects of the athelas leaf began to wear off. Harry's sight began to dim again, making everything seem as if it was in eternal night. Only Frodo seemed lit by an unholy fire, burning at his chest. He started to nod off in Boromir's arms, his face nestled on the big man's shoulder. He shivered with a sudden cold.
After a while Harry started hearing rushing water; the stream, he assumed, sounded like tinkling bells. Slowly he perceived that the bell like sound of the water was forming delicate words, flowing into sentences. The voice sounded just like the stream, clear and soft with a lilting accent.
Steadily the fog over his vision cleared, and he was able to see Legolas standing next to a blue, rushing river, opening his mouth in song.
As the song went on, strangely Harry began to feel better, the aches and pains in his limbs reducing to near nothing and his senses returning. The lilting song faded out and stopped, replaced by the gentle words of Legolas speaking. Harry didn't focus on the words, trying to stay awake. He felt better but incredibly tired. The song had worked its own sort of magic on him.
The company began to move at last, deeper into the forest. Harry grew restless in Boromir's arms.
"I can walk," he complained hoarsely. Boromir nearly dropped him in shock.
"I had feared you were dead, little wizard," he exclaimed, setting Harry on his feet, who wavered for a moment.
"I - I just needed some time, is all." Harry didn't feel like telling the man about Legolas's song; for some reason it seemed too intimate, too private.
Boromir smiled. "Its a good thing you woke, for I was getting tired. I have carried you for a good day and a half, through the woods of Lothlorien. We're going to make camp, here," he said, and looked rather displeased.
"Where?" Harry asked, puzzled, as he looked around the forest floor.
Boromir looked even more disgusted and pointed up to the trees. Harry nearly fell over. They were sleeping in a tree? At the moment, Boromir's arms seemed a lot more comfortable, and he considered fainting again, figuring it was the only way he'd get any sleep that night.
For the first time he noticed his companions. Feeling a little guilty at neglecting Legolas for so long, he walked shakily up to the elf, who was contemplating a tree. Touching the elf's arm, he offered a weak smile that was returned with blinding brilliance. Legolas casually slipped an arm around Harry's waist that the wizard didn't shrug off.
"I will climb up. I am at home in the trees, by root or bough, though these trees are of a kind strange to me, save as a name in song. Mellyrn they are called, and are those that bear the yellow blossom, but I have never climbed in one. I will see now what is their shape and way of growth." With suprising grace, he leapt up and grabbed a branch. But even as he was about to climb farther, a command issued from the tree in a voice much like Legolas's.
"Daro!"
Legolas fell down to the ground and looked up, shrinking against the trunk of the tree. "Stay perfectly still and do not move!" he hissed. The tinkling laughter made him relax his tensed body, and he sent significant glances to everyone in the company. A question in Elven came down from the branches and Legolas spoke back in kind. Harry looked at him in amazement.
"Who are they and what do they say?" Merry asked.
"They're Elves," answered Sam, looking up, "can't you hear their voices?"
Legolas looked over at them in amusement, all traces of earlier fear gone. "They are elves, and they say you breathe so loudly they could shoot you in the dark." Sam covered his mouth with his hand, trying not to make noise. Harry resisted the urge to grin. "They also say that you need have no fear. They have been aware of us for a long while. They heard my voice across the Nimrodel and knew that I was one of their own. Now they bid me climb up with Frodo; for they have some tidings of him and his journey. The others they ask to wait a little and keep watch, until they decide what is to be done."
Harry waited until Legolas and Frodo were out of sight to collapse against the tree trunk, breathing loudly and not caring. Resting one hand against his slightly sweaty forehead, he closed his eyes and slipped into sleep.
_______________________
Late in the night he woke. Blinking, thinking he was in a dream, he looked around the flet he was on, wrapped up in a soft blanket. He decided that it wasn't a dream, but should be, so yawning he laid his head back down.
Suddenly a golden-haired head appeared at the entrance. It was Legolas.
"What is it?" Harry asked sleepily, and more than a little crankily.
"Orc!" Legolas said, mouth twisted in a grimace. "Stay here. You are in danger." With that short warning he seemingly flew back down the tree in haste.
Yeah right, Harry thought wryly, climbing to his feet with a just a little spark of pain in his leg. He climbed down the tree-ladder slowly, taking care not to fall the twenty feet to the ground below. When he reached the dirt and grass covered floor, shadows casting threatening figures all around, he began to think he should have stayed in the tree. "Lumos!" he said softly, bathing the clearing in a soft glow for a few moments. Suddenly hearing footsteps, a strange foreboding clenched his heart with a cold fear. He muttered "nox" and crouched behind his tree, peering around the corner.
Strange words reached his ears about the same time the footsteps were twenty feet away from the tree he hid behind. They weren't the pretty voices of elves nor the same lilting language. They were Orcs and they were heading right for where he was.
Don't find me, he prayed, at the same time wondering if the Orcs had a good sense of smell. He hoped to God they didn't.
Dread filled him when he heard the voices get excited and louder, obviously something had caught their attention. He crouched lower behind the tree, inhaling the sweet smell of flowers and feeling the mossy trunk beneath his fingers and wondering if they were the last things he'd ever remember.
Then a sharp pain to his neck and a sickening crack, and he fell spiraling into unconsiousness.
________________________
NOTES: Here are the reasons for the trees -- i actually got these off Fungrams.
The hazelnut tree is Harry, the Weeping Willow is Legolas, and the walnut tree is Ron. here's why:
Harry: HAZELNUT TREE (the Extraordinary) - charming, undemanding, very understanding, knows how to make an impression, active fighter for social cause, popular, moody, and capricious lover, honest and tolerant partner, precise sense of judgment.
Ron: WALNUT TREE(the Passion) - unrelenting, strange and full of contrasts, often egotistic, aggressive, noble, broad horizon, unexpected reactions, spontaneous, unlimited ambition, no flexibility, difficult and uncommon partner, not always liked but often admired, ingenious strategist, very jealous and passionate, no compromise.
Legolas: WEEPING WILLOW(the Melancholy) - beautiful but full of melancholy, attractive, very empathetic, loves anything beautiful and tasteful, loves to travel, dreamer, restless, capricious, honest, can be influenced but is not easy to live with, demanding, good intuition, suffers in love but finds sometimes an anchoring partner.
So you see why I did that? Now i bet it has a lot more meaning, eh?