Some translations to help the reader:
Suilad : greeting
Hiril nîn : my lady
Avo 'osto : don't worry
Legolas Greenleaf i eneth nîn : My name is Legolas Greenleaf.
****
When the sun began to decline and darkness enveloped the forest city, Haemerethwen heard a knock at her door. She immediately began to fret over her appearance yet again, hoping that she was suitably attired. The celebrations of The Wood-Elves were completely unknown to her. However, she had borrowed a dress-hers had been lost in the skirmish with the Orcs- and she decided that at least her dress followed their customs.
She slowly opened the door, peering around its edge to glance at her escort. She was extremely nervous about the celebration; her friends at Mithlond had always known Haemerethwen to be shy and nervous in public ceremonies. 'I wonder how hard they would be laughing to see me in this situation,' she thought as she began to shake in her nervousness. Her escort smiled at her when she finally completely opened the door. He had anticipated her anxiety and was ready for his difficult task of helping her to find her words.
"Suilad, hiril nîn" he said, gracefully bowing to her. She immediately blushed, embarrassed to have someone bow for her.
"Oh, you do not have to bow," she whispered, averting her eyes.
"It would do me much injustice to not bow to our esteemed visitor," he playfully returned. She slowly smiled at his compliment and again blushed. He moved his face into her averted view, flashing his smile once more. "Are you ready to attend the festivities?" he queried. She quietly nodded, trying to avert her eyes once more from his steady gaze. He again moved his face so that she was forced to look into his eyes once more.
"Well, try to appear a little more excited," he jested, offering his arm for her to slip hers through, "It is only a celebration of your arrival." She gently laughed, allowing the color to once again return her to her cheeks as she began to walk down the hall with him.
"I am excited," she admitted, "just probably not in the manner you suggest." She directed her sparkling grey eyes towards his, glad that the King had chosen such an amiable escort.
"Avo 'osto, your nervousness will easily melt away," he assured her.
"How can you be so sure?"
"Because you are with me!" he exclaimed, brilliantly smiling at her while his eyes flashed. He was glad to be escorting this stranger; it was a change from his usual companions that constantly flirted with him. Haemerethwen laughed.
"Have you tapped into the wine early, or are you always this foolish?" she joked. The Elf stopped in his tracks and turned to face her. As his blue eyes danced with the candlelight in the hall, she realized how attractive she found him. The emotion was so strong that when he flashed his white teeth at her again, she began to feel a fluttering emotion in her stomach.
"What is wrong with being foolish?" he laughed, "A celebration always entitles me to being slightly such. What is a celebration without it?" He grabbed her arm and wrapped it in his, continuing his way through the hall.
"Are all the Wood-Elves alike to yourself?" she asked smiling.
"Oh, no, of course not. I am unique; there's no even a bit alike to me," he answered, smiling at her again, "That's why you are so lucky!"
They turned one last corner in the lit underground passage and suddenly they were outside. Haemerethwen was bewildered by the eloquence and beauty of the surroundings. There were lit candles hanging from the trees, creating a magnificent glow upon the green land. Tables and chairs covered most of the area, but in the middle was a circle for singing and dancing. Many of the Elves were already sitting at their tables and as Haemerethwen and her escort passed, many stopped chatting and peered at the two. She feared that she stood out due to her appearance, but she soon reprimanded herself for being so self-conscious and straightened her posture.
"You will be sitting next to me at the King's table," her escort said, pointing to their seats, "I hope you do not mind." He again smiled at her, making her stomach twist into knots.
"Of course I do not mind," she answered, "You were right about me being less nervous, so I gather that it will be an interesting night if I stick with you." She smiled back. Her escort seemed a little surprised by her compliment and she figured it was because he did not expect such a response from her. In truth, she hadn't expected it either.
****
Haemerethwen quietly sat and observed the ceremony that welcomed her into the forest of Eryn Lasgalen. It appeared that many of the Elves that attended the celebration did not understand why an unknown Falathrim Elf would be present in their forest; the Orcs had raided their forest as well, disturbing its inhabitants enough to remind them of the dangers found outside their borders. It somewhat even frustrated some in not having the knowledge of why this unknown she-Elf had arrived. However, King Thranduil did not immediately enlighten his audience and merely left them pleasantly pondering.
She did not contribute much to the conversation throughout the celebration. Thranduil did not explain her situation to the speculating crowd, leaving her to think that probably he was not going to consider her plea for help. She therefore offered no reason behind her arrival. No one in the crowd directly queried about her, sensing that Thranduil's silence had a hidden motive. Yet, the conversation among the Elves always seemed to subtly turn in the direction of the reason in Haemerethwen's journey to Eryn Lasgalen.
The considerable attention brought upon her by the Wood-Elves after the meal caused her anxiety to return. Many noticed her constant blushing and her habit of twirling her blonde hair around her fingers when she was questioned about Mithlond; her lack of social confidence allowed many to decipher that she was some sort of fighter, leading even more to believe that she brought battle news from afar. Their conclusion recognized, they began to ask questions about any new battles that she had heard of, or even participated in (if the Elf was so bold). However, their questioning irritated Thranduil, who powerfully suggested that a change of topic is suitable since he did not want to discuss battle and bloodshed during the celebration.
The musicians then discovered their instruments and began to play a light melody to soothe Thranduil's frustration with his curious audience. Haemerethwen's anxiety slowly began to dissipate now that the Elves were dancing and not paying much attention to her, allowing her to slouch a little in her chair and relax. However, almost immediately afterward her escort gently grabbed her hand in his and began pulling her out of her comfortable chair and onto the dance floor. Her heart began to skip a beat when he slipped one arm around her waist while his hand grabbed hold of hers. She mused at this handsome Elf that smiled at her and was dedicated to allowing her to be comfortable.
"You never did tell me your name," she laughingly stated as they danced. He glanced down at her.
"I always forget the formalities of a proper greeting," he admitted, "You never did tell me your name either." She looked at him questioningly.
"I assumed that you knew my name," she answered.
"Well, yes, I did know your name," he stated and smiled slyly, "But you still never offered it." The music then changed to a rapid beat, causing the two dancers to pick up their feet and swing to the rhythm of the faster dance. The change of the music caused Haemerethwen to temporarily forget about her escort not answering her question; instead, she focused on the intensity of the dance that had trapped her. She had learned to dance from her mother, who had been known throughout Mithlond for her grace and beauty.
The song soon ended and the flushed Elves threw up their arms and clapped, for they most enjoyed the faster tempo songs. Haemerethwen stared at her escort, watching his chest heave from the fast dance that he now ecstatically cheered for along with the other Elves. His eyes were charged from the intensity of that dance when he stopped cheering and returned her gaze.
"Legolas Greenleaf i eneth nîn," he then announced, "Youngest son of Thranduil, King of Eryn Lasgalen." The only change in Haemerethwen's expression was that of her eyes slightly opening wider, but overall she appeared to show no emotion on her face. However, within her she had forced herself to suppress the overwhelming desire to cry out in shame. 'The Prince of Eryn Lasgalen!' she thought, 'I cannot believe that I allowed myself to feel emotion towards such an untouchable Elf!'
"You outdo yourself, Prince Legolas," she stated, "to accompany such a she-Elf as myself." He silently peered at her, realizing that his title must have released the anxiety he had tried to eradicate. She had averted her eyes again, trying to escape from his powerful gaze, and the red tint in her cheeks had been replaced with paleness. He frowned, upset that he had allowed her to digress back to her reclusive behavior. He led her back to their table and sat down.
"Being a prince does not entitle me to not entertain foreign messengers," he proposed. She silently directed her eyes upon him, staring into his eyes to guess if he was lying. He returned her powerful gaze, trying to contemplate her thoughts.
"Why did you decide to 'entertain' me tonight?" she queried.
"My father told me that a Falathrim messenger arrived yesterday and would need an escort to tonight's celebration. However, I was also told that the messenger was anxious in public and would require-"
"Thranduil told you I was anxious in public?" she hissed, slightly irritated that Thranduil would explicate on her personality to Elves unknown to her.
"Yes," he answered, taking note of her reaction, "I decided that I would be able to accompany you because I am comfortable at celebrations, especially those within my home." Haemerethwen considered his reason and decided it was believable, but wondered what else Thranduil had mentioned to him.
"What else did Thranduil mention about me?" she questioned him, coldly staring off into the distance. Legolas silently peered at her and considered if he should tell her the whole truth.
"He mentioned your history, mainly," he began, taking a sip of wine to soothe his parched throat. She nodded her head in agreement. "He told me of your connection to Círdan the Shipwright and your importance to Mithlond."
"My importance?" she scoffed.
"He elaborated that Círdan personally chose you to be border guardian after witnessing your defending off Orcs. It seems that you became an esteemed warrior over the years, which eventually led you to becoming a captain in the section you monitored. However, you have kept your prowess hidden from many civilians of Mithlond and only now do they realize your capabilities."
"I do not even compare to the great warriors of Mithlond," she argued, "But I accept the compliment that Thranduil bestows upon me."
"My father also mentioned when he met you in your city," Legolas stated. Her eyes slightly closed, preparing herself for what he would mention next. "Apparently, he came at a time of.apprehension?" Haemerethwen sharply looked at him, frowning.
"Thranduil believed that I had denied a Eryn Lasgalen messenger access to Mithlond that delivered an important message. He demanded that action be taken, but Círdan did not have reason to believe the accusation," she then stopped, deeply sighing, "So Thranduil decided to visit Mithlond. I was taken into custody, but soon after I was released."
"I can assume that my father has held that against Mithlond."
"He still has that hint of sarcasm with every mention of 'ability' and 'warrior,'" she spits out. The situation seems to have had quite an impact on her, so Legolas quickly dropped that subject.
"The last thing he mentioned was that of your task," he stated, "I am dreadfully sorry of the situation that has taken hold of your beautiful city."
"But does Thranduil feel the same as his son?" she angrily queried.
"I do not know," he softly replied, "Tomorrow you shall find out." With that final comment, Legolas arose and offered his hand to the upset Elf. "I do believe it is time to retire." She looked at his hand and then up at his eyes, now sad because of the angry discourse that had been exchanged between them. She allowed a small smile to creep over her face.
"I am sorry for my sudden change of mood," she offered while grabbing hold of his hand and standing up, "but I am extremely stressed and am anxious to return to Mithlond."
"Hopefully, you will return with those who will help," he suggested, returning the small smile. They begin to walk back into the palace with the other Elves and silently exchange a parting when they reached her room.
****
When the sun began to decline and darkness enveloped the forest city, Haemerethwen heard a knock at her door. She immediately began to fret over her appearance yet again, hoping that she was suitably attired. The celebrations of The Wood-Elves were completely unknown to her. However, she had borrowed a dress-hers had been lost in the skirmish with the Orcs- and she decided that at least her dress followed their customs.
She slowly opened the door, peering around its edge to glance at her escort. She was extremely nervous about the celebration; her friends at Mithlond had always known Haemerethwen to be shy and nervous in public ceremonies. 'I wonder how hard they would be laughing to see me in this situation,' she thought as she began to shake in her nervousness. Her escort smiled at her when she finally completely opened the door. He had anticipated her anxiety and was ready for his difficult task of helping her to find her words.
"Suilad, hiril nîn" he said, gracefully bowing to her. She immediately blushed, embarrassed to have someone bow for her.
"Oh, you do not have to bow," she whispered, averting her eyes.
"It would do me much injustice to not bow to our esteemed visitor," he playfully returned. She slowly smiled at his compliment and again blushed. He moved his face into her averted view, flashing his smile once more. "Are you ready to attend the festivities?" he queried. She quietly nodded, trying to avert her eyes once more from his steady gaze. He again moved his face so that she was forced to look into his eyes once more.
"Well, try to appear a little more excited," he jested, offering his arm for her to slip hers through, "It is only a celebration of your arrival." She gently laughed, allowing the color to once again return her to her cheeks as she began to walk down the hall with him.
"I am excited," she admitted, "just probably not in the manner you suggest." She directed her sparkling grey eyes towards his, glad that the King had chosen such an amiable escort.
"Avo 'osto, your nervousness will easily melt away," he assured her.
"How can you be so sure?"
"Because you are with me!" he exclaimed, brilliantly smiling at her while his eyes flashed. He was glad to be escorting this stranger; it was a change from his usual companions that constantly flirted with him. Haemerethwen laughed.
"Have you tapped into the wine early, or are you always this foolish?" she joked. The Elf stopped in his tracks and turned to face her. As his blue eyes danced with the candlelight in the hall, she realized how attractive she found him. The emotion was so strong that when he flashed his white teeth at her again, she began to feel a fluttering emotion in her stomach.
"What is wrong with being foolish?" he laughed, "A celebration always entitles me to being slightly such. What is a celebration without it?" He grabbed her arm and wrapped it in his, continuing his way through the hall.
"Are all the Wood-Elves alike to yourself?" she asked smiling.
"Oh, no, of course not. I am unique; there's no even a bit alike to me," he answered, smiling at her again, "That's why you are so lucky!"
They turned one last corner in the lit underground passage and suddenly they were outside. Haemerethwen was bewildered by the eloquence and beauty of the surroundings. There were lit candles hanging from the trees, creating a magnificent glow upon the green land. Tables and chairs covered most of the area, but in the middle was a circle for singing and dancing. Many of the Elves were already sitting at their tables and as Haemerethwen and her escort passed, many stopped chatting and peered at the two. She feared that she stood out due to her appearance, but she soon reprimanded herself for being so self-conscious and straightened her posture.
"You will be sitting next to me at the King's table," her escort said, pointing to their seats, "I hope you do not mind." He again smiled at her, making her stomach twist into knots.
"Of course I do not mind," she answered, "You were right about me being less nervous, so I gather that it will be an interesting night if I stick with you." She smiled back. Her escort seemed a little surprised by her compliment and she figured it was because he did not expect such a response from her. In truth, she hadn't expected it either.
****
Haemerethwen quietly sat and observed the ceremony that welcomed her into the forest of Eryn Lasgalen. It appeared that many of the Elves that attended the celebration did not understand why an unknown Falathrim Elf would be present in their forest; the Orcs had raided their forest as well, disturbing its inhabitants enough to remind them of the dangers found outside their borders. It somewhat even frustrated some in not having the knowledge of why this unknown she-Elf had arrived. However, King Thranduil did not immediately enlighten his audience and merely left them pleasantly pondering.
She did not contribute much to the conversation throughout the celebration. Thranduil did not explain her situation to the speculating crowd, leaving her to think that probably he was not going to consider her plea for help. She therefore offered no reason behind her arrival. No one in the crowd directly queried about her, sensing that Thranduil's silence had a hidden motive. Yet, the conversation among the Elves always seemed to subtly turn in the direction of the reason in Haemerethwen's journey to Eryn Lasgalen.
The considerable attention brought upon her by the Wood-Elves after the meal caused her anxiety to return. Many noticed her constant blushing and her habit of twirling her blonde hair around her fingers when she was questioned about Mithlond; her lack of social confidence allowed many to decipher that she was some sort of fighter, leading even more to believe that she brought battle news from afar. Their conclusion recognized, they began to ask questions about any new battles that she had heard of, or even participated in (if the Elf was so bold). However, their questioning irritated Thranduil, who powerfully suggested that a change of topic is suitable since he did not want to discuss battle and bloodshed during the celebration.
The musicians then discovered their instruments and began to play a light melody to soothe Thranduil's frustration with his curious audience. Haemerethwen's anxiety slowly began to dissipate now that the Elves were dancing and not paying much attention to her, allowing her to slouch a little in her chair and relax. However, almost immediately afterward her escort gently grabbed her hand in his and began pulling her out of her comfortable chair and onto the dance floor. Her heart began to skip a beat when he slipped one arm around her waist while his hand grabbed hold of hers. She mused at this handsome Elf that smiled at her and was dedicated to allowing her to be comfortable.
"You never did tell me your name," she laughingly stated as they danced. He glanced down at her.
"I always forget the formalities of a proper greeting," he admitted, "You never did tell me your name either." She looked at him questioningly.
"I assumed that you knew my name," she answered.
"Well, yes, I did know your name," he stated and smiled slyly, "But you still never offered it." The music then changed to a rapid beat, causing the two dancers to pick up their feet and swing to the rhythm of the faster dance. The change of the music caused Haemerethwen to temporarily forget about her escort not answering her question; instead, she focused on the intensity of the dance that had trapped her. She had learned to dance from her mother, who had been known throughout Mithlond for her grace and beauty.
The song soon ended and the flushed Elves threw up their arms and clapped, for they most enjoyed the faster tempo songs. Haemerethwen stared at her escort, watching his chest heave from the fast dance that he now ecstatically cheered for along with the other Elves. His eyes were charged from the intensity of that dance when he stopped cheering and returned her gaze.
"Legolas Greenleaf i eneth nîn," he then announced, "Youngest son of Thranduil, King of Eryn Lasgalen." The only change in Haemerethwen's expression was that of her eyes slightly opening wider, but overall she appeared to show no emotion on her face. However, within her she had forced herself to suppress the overwhelming desire to cry out in shame. 'The Prince of Eryn Lasgalen!' she thought, 'I cannot believe that I allowed myself to feel emotion towards such an untouchable Elf!'
"You outdo yourself, Prince Legolas," she stated, "to accompany such a she-Elf as myself." He silently peered at her, realizing that his title must have released the anxiety he had tried to eradicate. She had averted her eyes again, trying to escape from his powerful gaze, and the red tint in her cheeks had been replaced with paleness. He frowned, upset that he had allowed her to digress back to her reclusive behavior. He led her back to their table and sat down.
"Being a prince does not entitle me to not entertain foreign messengers," he proposed. She silently directed her eyes upon him, staring into his eyes to guess if he was lying. He returned her powerful gaze, trying to contemplate her thoughts.
"Why did you decide to 'entertain' me tonight?" she queried.
"My father told me that a Falathrim messenger arrived yesterday and would need an escort to tonight's celebration. However, I was also told that the messenger was anxious in public and would require-"
"Thranduil told you I was anxious in public?" she hissed, slightly irritated that Thranduil would explicate on her personality to Elves unknown to her.
"Yes," he answered, taking note of her reaction, "I decided that I would be able to accompany you because I am comfortable at celebrations, especially those within my home." Haemerethwen considered his reason and decided it was believable, but wondered what else Thranduil had mentioned to him.
"What else did Thranduil mention about me?" she questioned him, coldly staring off into the distance. Legolas silently peered at her and considered if he should tell her the whole truth.
"He mentioned your history, mainly," he began, taking a sip of wine to soothe his parched throat. She nodded her head in agreement. "He told me of your connection to Círdan the Shipwright and your importance to Mithlond."
"My importance?" she scoffed.
"He elaborated that Círdan personally chose you to be border guardian after witnessing your defending off Orcs. It seems that you became an esteemed warrior over the years, which eventually led you to becoming a captain in the section you monitored. However, you have kept your prowess hidden from many civilians of Mithlond and only now do they realize your capabilities."
"I do not even compare to the great warriors of Mithlond," she argued, "But I accept the compliment that Thranduil bestows upon me."
"My father also mentioned when he met you in your city," Legolas stated. Her eyes slightly closed, preparing herself for what he would mention next. "Apparently, he came at a time of.apprehension?" Haemerethwen sharply looked at him, frowning.
"Thranduil believed that I had denied a Eryn Lasgalen messenger access to Mithlond that delivered an important message. He demanded that action be taken, but Círdan did not have reason to believe the accusation," she then stopped, deeply sighing, "So Thranduil decided to visit Mithlond. I was taken into custody, but soon after I was released."
"I can assume that my father has held that against Mithlond."
"He still has that hint of sarcasm with every mention of 'ability' and 'warrior,'" she spits out. The situation seems to have had quite an impact on her, so Legolas quickly dropped that subject.
"The last thing he mentioned was that of your task," he stated, "I am dreadfully sorry of the situation that has taken hold of your beautiful city."
"But does Thranduil feel the same as his son?" she angrily queried.
"I do not know," he softly replied, "Tomorrow you shall find out." With that final comment, Legolas arose and offered his hand to the upset Elf. "I do believe it is time to retire." She looked at his hand and then up at his eyes, now sad because of the angry discourse that had been exchanged between them. She allowed a small smile to creep over her face.
"I am sorry for my sudden change of mood," she offered while grabbing hold of his hand and standing up, "but I am extremely stressed and am anxious to return to Mithlond."
"Hopefully, you will return with those who will help," he suggested, returning the small smile. They begin to walk back into the palace with the other Elves and silently exchange a parting when they reached her room.