I have not finished re-reading all my previous chapters, so I will be
updating them hopefully by the next chapter. I do hope to have the next
chapter finished in less than a week. Also, if anyone sees a canon mistake
please let me know so I change it! I really hope that people will point
out my errors so I can fix them over the following weeks because I won't be
able to pick up on all of them. Thank you again for the wonderful reviews
and I really am glad that people have told me what things what bothered
them (in a nice way, of course). Please continue to review because I feel
that the chapters following Haemerethwen are not as liked as the ones with
Legolas (probably because it doesn't contain him!). Anyway, thank you!
***
She could hear the creature behind the tree she was bound to, his breathing hardly silent and being regularly disturbed by thick swallowing. She clenched her jaw, knowing what perverted thoughts were present within the unbalanced mind. Silently cursing within her mind for being so defenseless, she listened as he loudly rounded the tree, his breathing becoming heavier with every inch closer.
"Daro, Yrch," she violently whispered to him, causing surprise in the creature as he was caught off guard. She kept her face forward, but anxiously peered to the left of her, hoping that perhaps the creature would rethink what he would be attempting to do. Then a thick-skinned hand grabbed her chin and pulled her face roughly to the right, surprising her.
The sickening Orc creepily smiled at her, displaying his yellow teeth and cracked lips. His yellow eyes, however, demanded her to be silent and the pressure of metal against her abdomen solidified the command. She inwardly cringed at being unable to protect herself against the being.
"Daro," he stated sarcastically, his deep voice striking a note of fear within the tied she-Elf. He raised his eyebrows up at her as if waiting for her to reply, but she merely kept her indifferent face; she was adamant in keeping her face stern and uninfluenced as he brought her blood- clumped hair up to his nose. He breathed in deeply the scent of blood, his emotions almost running rampant as the desire began to build up in him. He slowly brought the dagger up to her hair and, his eyes darkly peering at her, began to cut it.
She stared at him violently as he dropped her hair and stared in wonder at it within his hands, seemingly amazed that he was able to accomplish the small feat. However, his success led him to desire more; slowly, he brought his evil eyes back up to her. Sticking the small clump of hair into his pocket, he brought his dagger up to where her jaw met her neck. Pressing it firmly into the flesh, he again sinisterly smiled at her, enjoying the feeling of being in control of such an enchanting being.
"Speak, and die," he whispered to her, his eyes lighting up at all the possibilities he could sexually do to her. Haemerethwen paled as she suddenly felt a light touch upon her lower abdomen, floating over her clothes as his breathing again became heavy. He first dragged his fingers lower, but then stopped for a few moments, possibly reconsidering what action he thoroughly desired to perform.
She began to tremble as he instead brought his fingers upward, the fear now rippling through her. The Orc stared at her and smiled, enjoying the horror he instilled within her. She wanted to yell out to the surrounding Orcs, but she understood that the one touching her now would not hesitate in slicing open her neck; indeed, he might even savor the fact of watching her warm blood flow over his hands. The pitiful creature would easily risk his life in able to manipulate the she-Elf and would just as quickly murder her to make sure that none other would be able to touch her as he had.
His hand faltered as they reached right below her breast, again seeming to contemplate what it was he was going to do. Haemerethwen was breathing more quickly now and slightly struggled against her restraints, but the prick of the blade quickly stopped her. Dread was expressed in her eyes; completely helpless to hinder the action the Orc now decided to do.
She shook her head "no" as he continued to crawl upwards, the Orc's breath becoming rapid as he stared in wonder at what he was about to feel. Slightly whimpering, she outwardly grimaced as he tightened his grip upon her breast; the creature sighed in pleasure as his hand clenched and relaxed around the mound of flesh. He stepped closer to her, his eyes clouded over in a perverted and repulsive passion. Slowly, he began to draw his lips closer to hers, opening his mouth and readying himself to release his tongue within her.
Suddenly a blade sang into the night, striking the encroaching Orc and ripping through its neck before it could even scream. Blood sprayed into Haemerethwen's face as the head flew into the dark night and then rolled upon the ground. The Elf stared with fear-stricken eyes, not believing the event that had occurred directly before her. Queasiness began to stir within her stomach as the warm blood thickly flowed down her face and the decapitated body fell upon her then slid downwards, leaving a black streak down her clothes.
Where the Orc once stood was now Thrakdreg, so angered at the entire incidence that he was shaking. In his right hand was the scimitar now dripping in black blood. Teeth clenched and breathing heavily, his dark eyes viciously stared down upon the headless body now slumped down upon the ground. Haemerethwen tried to regain her indifferent features, but she could still feel the acid rising into her mouth from the horror. She merely peered at the angered leader and feared what thoughts were crossing through his mind.
"Worthless goblin," shouted Thrakdreg, throwing his scimitar into its body and piercing it in its back. His body still shuddering from malice, he quickly walked into the woods and picked up the Orc's head that still contained the same perverted smile.
"Let this be a warning to all," roared the Orc leader as he grabbed onto a spear of one of the nearby Orcs and forcing into the ground, "Nobody will cross me by manipulating what it is mine." He then slammed the head onto the spear, causing more blood to spurt out and then drain down the wooden stake.
Haemerethwen kept her face steady as she watched the turn of events, but when Thrakdreg directed his seething eyes upon her, she indirectly began to cringe. Her eyes opened wide as he pointed at her, somewhat accusing her of what she had no control over.
"And you," he spat at her, causing her to tremble slightly as she caught a glimpse of what fury was brewing within him. Although she had feared him before he caught her in the cave, the earlier morning's whipping had greatly impacted her emotional stability, let alone her physical strength. The she-Elf was greatly dehydrated, which contributed to her lack of strength along with the numerous pains that throbbed every second of her aching existence. Her entire back was beginning to scar from the whipping and only in the early afternoon had the bleeding completely stopped. The pain was stifling and she could barely move without feeling like her skin was ripping open and again releasing blood. Her two shoulders were not even beginning to heal and her arms being pulled backwards by the ropes continuously kept the wounds open and susceptible to all sorts of bacteria and other harm. Only her lips were healed, which she greatly appreciated.
"Tomorrow will begin your transformation from freedom to possession," he stated while glaring at her. He then sharply turning around and walked into the shadows, forcing the surrounding Orcs out of his way. Haemerethwen merely stared after him in fear; she had already been forced to undergo somewhat a transformation the last time he had caught her and she feared that she would not be able to withstand another attempt. She looked upwards to the stars and soaked in the luminous brilliance, her eyes pleading for some manner to escape this torture. She clenched her jaw in anger: anger in being unable to escape the obsessive Orc that had consistently been following since he happened to capture her outside of Mithlond.
She had been within his grasps for three weeks many years ago and she had almost faded away in her depression. Her former lover transformed into a raging creature that only desired to attain her through physical bonding; he had forced himself upon her quickly the first time, but she was able to escape his grasp and flee through the woods. He rethought his attempts when she was eventually shot down by his followers and considered depleting her physical ability before forcing himself upon her again.
Her treatment was then altered to unsteady her physically, mentally and emotionally through constant tortures and wicked words; she had withstood his treatment for three weeks, but was on the verge of collapse and succumbing to his vile grasp. However, Galdor ambushed the Orc party and scattered the group and thereby rescued his fading sister.
It had taken many years to reconnect her to the natural world; her depression and embarrassment of being harassed by the creatures rendering her silent to the world. Her siblings would try to establish her into society, but she had become uncomfortable due to the paranoia that the Elves she spoke to had knowledge of her previous encounter.
The suitors that tried to woo her left frustrated, unable to understand why she would not allow herself to emotionally bind herself to others. She was scarred with the fear of losing another that she loved. Slowly, the suitors stopped arriving and eventually she did not consider marriage possible. She then dedicated herself to becoming a warrior and training to one day meet Thrakdreg and destroy him, but through all her years of anger at him, she was still unsure if she would be able to ultimately murder her Erlaithion.
She no longer held any emotions towards the unfeeling Orc who only brutally tortured her to one-day force himself into her and thereby end his misery of not having her before his transformation. She only felt constant repulsion and fear while glancing into his eyes: repulsion from what he was and fear from what he was unafraid to do. She was trapped within his possessive grasp, unable to escape and finally accomplish the one deed she had set her life to accomplish: force him to understand what pain he caused.
***
'Erlaithion,' she whispered into the sleeping Elf's ear, 'Wake up, Erlaithion!' She shook him lightly, peering down at the peaceful face and wondering why he persisted to remain asleep. She sighed in frustration and turned her face towards the ocean, deciding that she could not wake the stubborn Elf and return to the city before her brother realized their departure. Putting her chin upon her hands, she closed her eyes and listened to the ocean's rhythmic breaking over the rocks. She became so caught up in its tranquility that she did not hear the Elf beside her stir and slowly sit up. He smiled at her, his green eyes peering at his love as she listened to the waves.
'Wake up!' he yelled as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her downwards. Her eyes snapped open in surprise at his sudden movement, but when she noticed that he was lying on top of her she broke into a smile and laughed.
'I was not the one who slept late,' she answered, her grey eyes reflecting the sun's brilliant rays. He answered her with a passionate kiss, his tongue slipping through her lips and exploring the warm and soft cavity. Embracing her more tightly, he continued to press his lips into her and relished in the sensation that it created. However, she soon pushed away, happily laughing.
'We will be late and thus discovered if we do not leave soon,' she stated, raising her lips quickly upon his once more then pulling away, 'And no longer will we venture here again.' He frowned and sighed, faking frustration as he rolled off of her. She gently laughed at him again, enjoying the moment that they shared together. He then stood up and offered his hand to her, smiling at her with his green eyes.
'Shall I see you tonight?' he asked as he pulled her up.
'I leave this afternoon for the border, Erlaithion, did you forget?' her eyes peering into his.
'Aye,' he answered, disappointment becoming evident in his face, 'When do you return?'
'Three months from now,' she returned, pulling him closer to her.
'Then I shall meet you three months hence,' he returned, wrapping his arm around her as they began to walk down the beach.
***
A sharp breeze rose from the East, causing the she-Elf to slowly open her eyes and discourage any more memories to return to her disturbed mind. Her hair was pulled in the cold breeze as she looked upwards to the now clouded sky. She heard the leaves rustle in the wind and a raindrop gently fall down upon her face; she slightly shivered as the wind wrapped its cold arms around her body, reminding her that Erlaithion was no longer, there was only Thrakdreg.
Yet, then there was Legolas. The Prince had captured her heart, despite all the warnings within her. 'But he is no more,' she answered to her own pleas for comfort, 'And alone I shall always be.' She blinked her eyes as another drop of rain ran down her forehead. She sighed in her loneliness, trying to overcome her heart's whisperings of how he had survived, of how he would arrive.
'How can this one Elf so quickly subdue my own defense?' she asked herself, playing along with the thoughts that his death was unreal. She had first felt attraction during their first meeting, but it was more his personality that charmed her. His dedication to entertaining her when she feared being in public actually inspired her to open up and develop a sort of friendship with the Elf. It had been years since she last found friendship, but it had been years earlier that she had found love in friendship.
Haemerethwen was not in love, though, she was merely establishing an emotion that would result in it. It had been so long since she last found comfort and she believed that Legolas could provide it, as well as other features. However, if the Prince did live, she could only wait until possibly one day he might share her feelings. Until then, her heart would continue to beat softly as it ached to return to a sense of normalcy.
She closed her eyes as the rain begin to drop faster, relishing in the feel of cold water running down her thirsty skin. It was healing her tired body, rejuvenating it and perhaps preparing her for the beginnings of an unknown torture. Her body was pained and she realized that even her Elven abilities would not be able to withstand the constant sufferings the Orcs were thrusting upon her. Yet, she would remain strong and force Thrakdreg away; she could not let him have her. She could not, or else death was imminent. Swallowing hard, she focused on the comforting rain instead of the fear for tomorrow. She imagined the trickling feel of water were instead the fingertips of Legolas, retrieving her from the horror that her life had become.
*****
Simbelmyn: I am glad that you pity him; I hope to instill more of that emotion as I continue along with the chapters that focus on Haemerethwen and him. Whether he'll be released from what he suffers, I have not decided yet. The twins will continue for the rest of the story because they are strong characters and who doesn't like them?
***: I actually intended for that conversation to be straightforward instead of my usual rambling upon for a long time about it. I believe that Elrohir and Elladan were good friends with Legolas, which would therefore allow the three Elves to talk confidently with each other. That is why I allowed Legolas to talk so easily to them and for the twin's advice to be easily considered.
CylentWind: Legolas didn't actually admit he was in love with her, but he finally seemed to figure out that he shouldn't deny his emotions for her. It appears that now she is lost (and possibly forever lost) that he realizes what she has offered him and how much he actually wanted it; the twins also help him understand that he needs to learn to follow his heart. I am glad that you like my description because I worried that people thought I wrote with too much adjective use; I suppose that leads to confusion if you write too much description. But thank you for responding in that area!
Night Interlude: You are not looking too far into it at all! I really like it that you analyze him so well! He is hard to understand because he is an Orc, but you would rather him be an Elf as he was. He does seem almost maniacal because of his ever-changing emotions that he cannot control. Yes, there is despair because he cannot have her, but he once did.
Heather: Monotonous? I can see that, but I guess I'm really trying to establish the background of her while torturing her at the same time. Not much variation, I suppose! I'll try and make it more entertaining, but hopefully this one was better?
Galadriel Lorien: Thank you! What was it that made you change your mind?
***
She could hear the creature behind the tree she was bound to, his breathing hardly silent and being regularly disturbed by thick swallowing. She clenched her jaw, knowing what perverted thoughts were present within the unbalanced mind. Silently cursing within her mind for being so defenseless, she listened as he loudly rounded the tree, his breathing becoming heavier with every inch closer.
"Daro, Yrch," she violently whispered to him, causing surprise in the creature as he was caught off guard. She kept her face forward, but anxiously peered to the left of her, hoping that perhaps the creature would rethink what he would be attempting to do. Then a thick-skinned hand grabbed her chin and pulled her face roughly to the right, surprising her.
The sickening Orc creepily smiled at her, displaying his yellow teeth and cracked lips. His yellow eyes, however, demanded her to be silent and the pressure of metal against her abdomen solidified the command. She inwardly cringed at being unable to protect herself against the being.
"Daro," he stated sarcastically, his deep voice striking a note of fear within the tied she-Elf. He raised his eyebrows up at her as if waiting for her to reply, but she merely kept her indifferent face; she was adamant in keeping her face stern and uninfluenced as he brought her blood- clumped hair up to his nose. He breathed in deeply the scent of blood, his emotions almost running rampant as the desire began to build up in him. He slowly brought the dagger up to her hair and, his eyes darkly peering at her, began to cut it.
She stared at him violently as he dropped her hair and stared in wonder at it within his hands, seemingly amazed that he was able to accomplish the small feat. However, his success led him to desire more; slowly, he brought his evil eyes back up to her. Sticking the small clump of hair into his pocket, he brought his dagger up to where her jaw met her neck. Pressing it firmly into the flesh, he again sinisterly smiled at her, enjoying the feeling of being in control of such an enchanting being.
"Speak, and die," he whispered to her, his eyes lighting up at all the possibilities he could sexually do to her. Haemerethwen paled as she suddenly felt a light touch upon her lower abdomen, floating over her clothes as his breathing again became heavy. He first dragged his fingers lower, but then stopped for a few moments, possibly reconsidering what action he thoroughly desired to perform.
She began to tremble as he instead brought his fingers upward, the fear now rippling through her. The Orc stared at her and smiled, enjoying the horror he instilled within her. She wanted to yell out to the surrounding Orcs, but she understood that the one touching her now would not hesitate in slicing open her neck; indeed, he might even savor the fact of watching her warm blood flow over his hands. The pitiful creature would easily risk his life in able to manipulate the she-Elf and would just as quickly murder her to make sure that none other would be able to touch her as he had.
His hand faltered as they reached right below her breast, again seeming to contemplate what it was he was going to do. Haemerethwen was breathing more quickly now and slightly struggled against her restraints, but the prick of the blade quickly stopped her. Dread was expressed in her eyes; completely helpless to hinder the action the Orc now decided to do.
She shook her head "no" as he continued to crawl upwards, the Orc's breath becoming rapid as he stared in wonder at what he was about to feel. Slightly whimpering, she outwardly grimaced as he tightened his grip upon her breast; the creature sighed in pleasure as his hand clenched and relaxed around the mound of flesh. He stepped closer to her, his eyes clouded over in a perverted and repulsive passion. Slowly, he began to draw his lips closer to hers, opening his mouth and readying himself to release his tongue within her.
Suddenly a blade sang into the night, striking the encroaching Orc and ripping through its neck before it could even scream. Blood sprayed into Haemerethwen's face as the head flew into the dark night and then rolled upon the ground. The Elf stared with fear-stricken eyes, not believing the event that had occurred directly before her. Queasiness began to stir within her stomach as the warm blood thickly flowed down her face and the decapitated body fell upon her then slid downwards, leaving a black streak down her clothes.
Where the Orc once stood was now Thrakdreg, so angered at the entire incidence that he was shaking. In his right hand was the scimitar now dripping in black blood. Teeth clenched and breathing heavily, his dark eyes viciously stared down upon the headless body now slumped down upon the ground. Haemerethwen tried to regain her indifferent features, but she could still feel the acid rising into her mouth from the horror. She merely peered at the angered leader and feared what thoughts were crossing through his mind.
"Worthless goblin," shouted Thrakdreg, throwing his scimitar into its body and piercing it in its back. His body still shuddering from malice, he quickly walked into the woods and picked up the Orc's head that still contained the same perverted smile.
"Let this be a warning to all," roared the Orc leader as he grabbed onto a spear of one of the nearby Orcs and forcing into the ground, "Nobody will cross me by manipulating what it is mine." He then slammed the head onto the spear, causing more blood to spurt out and then drain down the wooden stake.
Haemerethwen kept her face steady as she watched the turn of events, but when Thrakdreg directed his seething eyes upon her, she indirectly began to cringe. Her eyes opened wide as he pointed at her, somewhat accusing her of what she had no control over.
"And you," he spat at her, causing her to tremble slightly as she caught a glimpse of what fury was brewing within him. Although she had feared him before he caught her in the cave, the earlier morning's whipping had greatly impacted her emotional stability, let alone her physical strength. The she-Elf was greatly dehydrated, which contributed to her lack of strength along with the numerous pains that throbbed every second of her aching existence. Her entire back was beginning to scar from the whipping and only in the early afternoon had the bleeding completely stopped. The pain was stifling and she could barely move without feeling like her skin was ripping open and again releasing blood. Her two shoulders were not even beginning to heal and her arms being pulled backwards by the ropes continuously kept the wounds open and susceptible to all sorts of bacteria and other harm. Only her lips were healed, which she greatly appreciated.
"Tomorrow will begin your transformation from freedom to possession," he stated while glaring at her. He then sharply turning around and walked into the shadows, forcing the surrounding Orcs out of his way. Haemerethwen merely stared after him in fear; she had already been forced to undergo somewhat a transformation the last time he had caught her and she feared that she would not be able to withstand another attempt. She looked upwards to the stars and soaked in the luminous brilliance, her eyes pleading for some manner to escape this torture. She clenched her jaw in anger: anger in being unable to escape the obsessive Orc that had consistently been following since he happened to capture her outside of Mithlond.
She had been within his grasps for three weeks many years ago and she had almost faded away in her depression. Her former lover transformed into a raging creature that only desired to attain her through physical bonding; he had forced himself upon her quickly the first time, but she was able to escape his grasp and flee through the woods. He rethought his attempts when she was eventually shot down by his followers and considered depleting her physical ability before forcing himself upon her again.
Her treatment was then altered to unsteady her physically, mentally and emotionally through constant tortures and wicked words; she had withstood his treatment for three weeks, but was on the verge of collapse and succumbing to his vile grasp. However, Galdor ambushed the Orc party and scattered the group and thereby rescued his fading sister.
It had taken many years to reconnect her to the natural world; her depression and embarrassment of being harassed by the creatures rendering her silent to the world. Her siblings would try to establish her into society, but she had become uncomfortable due to the paranoia that the Elves she spoke to had knowledge of her previous encounter.
The suitors that tried to woo her left frustrated, unable to understand why she would not allow herself to emotionally bind herself to others. She was scarred with the fear of losing another that she loved. Slowly, the suitors stopped arriving and eventually she did not consider marriage possible. She then dedicated herself to becoming a warrior and training to one day meet Thrakdreg and destroy him, but through all her years of anger at him, she was still unsure if she would be able to ultimately murder her Erlaithion.
She no longer held any emotions towards the unfeeling Orc who only brutally tortured her to one-day force himself into her and thereby end his misery of not having her before his transformation. She only felt constant repulsion and fear while glancing into his eyes: repulsion from what he was and fear from what he was unafraid to do. She was trapped within his possessive grasp, unable to escape and finally accomplish the one deed she had set her life to accomplish: force him to understand what pain he caused.
***
'Erlaithion,' she whispered into the sleeping Elf's ear, 'Wake up, Erlaithion!' She shook him lightly, peering down at the peaceful face and wondering why he persisted to remain asleep. She sighed in frustration and turned her face towards the ocean, deciding that she could not wake the stubborn Elf and return to the city before her brother realized their departure. Putting her chin upon her hands, she closed her eyes and listened to the ocean's rhythmic breaking over the rocks. She became so caught up in its tranquility that she did not hear the Elf beside her stir and slowly sit up. He smiled at her, his green eyes peering at his love as she listened to the waves.
'Wake up!' he yelled as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her downwards. Her eyes snapped open in surprise at his sudden movement, but when she noticed that he was lying on top of her she broke into a smile and laughed.
'I was not the one who slept late,' she answered, her grey eyes reflecting the sun's brilliant rays. He answered her with a passionate kiss, his tongue slipping through her lips and exploring the warm and soft cavity. Embracing her more tightly, he continued to press his lips into her and relished in the sensation that it created. However, she soon pushed away, happily laughing.
'We will be late and thus discovered if we do not leave soon,' she stated, raising her lips quickly upon his once more then pulling away, 'And no longer will we venture here again.' He frowned and sighed, faking frustration as he rolled off of her. She gently laughed at him again, enjoying the moment that they shared together. He then stood up and offered his hand to her, smiling at her with his green eyes.
'Shall I see you tonight?' he asked as he pulled her up.
'I leave this afternoon for the border, Erlaithion, did you forget?' her eyes peering into his.
'Aye,' he answered, disappointment becoming evident in his face, 'When do you return?'
'Three months from now,' she returned, pulling him closer to her.
'Then I shall meet you three months hence,' he returned, wrapping his arm around her as they began to walk down the beach.
***
A sharp breeze rose from the East, causing the she-Elf to slowly open her eyes and discourage any more memories to return to her disturbed mind. Her hair was pulled in the cold breeze as she looked upwards to the now clouded sky. She heard the leaves rustle in the wind and a raindrop gently fall down upon her face; she slightly shivered as the wind wrapped its cold arms around her body, reminding her that Erlaithion was no longer, there was only Thrakdreg.
Yet, then there was Legolas. The Prince had captured her heart, despite all the warnings within her. 'But he is no more,' she answered to her own pleas for comfort, 'And alone I shall always be.' She blinked her eyes as another drop of rain ran down her forehead. She sighed in her loneliness, trying to overcome her heart's whisperings of how he had survived, of how he would arrive.
'How can this one Elf so quickly subdue my own defense?' she asked herself, playing along with the thoughts that his death was unreal. She had first felt attraction during their first meeting, but it was more his personality that charmed her. His dedication to entertaining her when she feared being in public actually inspired her to open up and develop a sort of friendship with the Elf. It had been years since she last found friendship, but it had been years earlier that she had found love in friendship.
Haemerethwen was not in love, though, she was merely establishing an emotion that would result in it. It had been so long since she last found comfort and she believed that Legolas could provide it, as well as other features. However, if the Prince did live, she could only wait until possibly one day he might share her feelings. Until then, her heart would continue to beat softly as it ached to return to a sense of normalcy.
She closed her eyes as the rain begin to drop faster, relishing in the feel of cold water running down her thirsty skin. It was healing her tired body, rejuvenating it and perhaps preparing her for the beginnings of an unknown torture. Her body was pained and she realized that even her Elven abilities would not be able to withstand the constant sufferings the Orcs were thrusting upon her. Yet, she would remain strong and force Thrakdreg away; she could not let him have her. She could not, or else death was imminent. Swallowing hard, she focused on the comforting rain instead of the fear for tomorrow. She imagined the trickling feel of water were instead the fingertips of Legolas, retrieving her from the horror that her life had become.
*****
Simbelmyn: I am glad that you pity him; I hope to instill more of that emotion as I continue along with the chapters that focus on Haemerethwen and him. Whether he'll be released from what he suffers, I have not decided yet. The twins will continue for the rest of the story because they are strong characters and who doesn't like them?
***: I actually intended for that conversation to be straightforward instead of my usual rambling upon for a long time about it. I believe that Elrohir and Elladan were good friends with Legolas, which would therefore allow the three Elves to talk confidently with each other. That is why I allowed Legolas to talk so easily to them and for the twin's advice to be easily considered.
CylentWind: Legolas didn't actually admit he was in love with her, but he finally seemed to figure out that he shouldn't deny his emotions for her. It appears that now she is lost (and possibly forever lost) that he realizes what she has offered him and how much he actually wanted it; the twins also help him understand that he needs to learn to follow his heart. I am glad that you like my description because I worried that people thought I wrote with too much adjective use; I suppose that leads to confusion if you write too much description. But thank you for responding in that area!
Night Interlude: You are not looking too far into it at all! I really like it that you analyze him so well! He is hard to understand because he is an Orc, but you would rather him be an Elf as he was. He does seem almost maniacal because of his ever-changing emotions that he cannot control. Yes, there is despair because he cannot have her, but he once did.
Heather: Monotonous? I can see that, but I guess I'm really trying to establish the background of her while torturing her at the same time. Not much variation, I suppose! I'll try and make it more entertaining, but hopefully this one was better?
Galadriel Lorien: Thank you! What was it that made you change your mind?