LOVE'S CHANCE AT FATE



PLEASE REVIEW SO I CAN POST THE NEXT CHAPTER!! I WOULD REALLY APPRECIATE IT ^_^



**AHEM** Please don't sue me for changes in plot lines, the use of Tolkien's world, or Elvish translations. Word translations made possible by:

So please don't sue me. I CITED!



Chapter Three: Camping Trip



Vilisse continued on for the next two days, sure that her Elders wouldn't let her go so easily. They might think she was on a 'camping' trip, which she took the liberty of often. Vilisse liked to call it that because she took only bare essentials in a small pack, heading towards new territory(although still within the boundaries of the Elder's property).



Vilisse thought back on the previous night. After the conversation she had with her Elders, Vilisse had no doubt that they would soon learn why she fled them. Vilisse was rarely a creature of habit, but often did she weave the same conversation thread into their discussions. She was interested in being akin to those that wandered the world, and not in a palace. In all reality, love sickened her. Though she might never admit it, it scared her. The whole idea of becoming 'one' with another, and being powerless over her own emotions made her feel insecure.

Vilisse had not seen the Prince since childhood, and was sure as daylight that he was handsome and easy to swoon over. In order to escape from this spell, she had devised a plan to leave a week ahead of the court's arrival. Then Vilisse could save them the trip, and give her Elders the excuse that she had been lost to the darkness.

'I am sure he will find someone more willing and able to love than I,' she thought. Vilisse wanted to become 'lost' as soon as possible, and thought it best to leave early. She sighed in frustration. It was not that she didn't want to love, but she longed for her own freedom to decide. 'Love' she had always thought, 'is meant for someone better than I.'

She raced through the dense trees in search of the Forest River which would take her northwest out of Mirkwood, and towards the Grey Mountains. She would change her clothing when she got near the boat; she had only worn this perchnet of a dress to ward off suspicion that she wasn't going anywhere.



Later that afternoon, Vilisse had reached the Forest River and the boat she would use to venture forth. She had always hid the boat there so she didn't have to drag it back and forth on her daily paddles up stream. As she changed clothing, a noise caught her attention.

Crunch, crunch.

Vilisse turned her head swiftly. Her keen elven eyes detected nothing, and neither did her ears, for the moment. In the forest she usually had very sharp hearing, but the blood pounding in her ears made it difficult to hear.

Vilisse's fear of what would happen if her father found her tore at her heart. This would be the last walk she ever took alone, if she were discovered. And perhaps the last in these woods.

Not only was there fear of her own father, but also of the Elvenking Thranduil and Prince Legolas, deemed guardian and husband. How could she spend the rest of her life locked away in a dungeon somewhere because she slipped up in her attempt to escape them? She knew should not dwell on the possibilities as she rode the river.

Vilisse was now clothed in dark apparel, which blended well in the wood. A dark emerald cloak extended over her muscular frame. She had a face of nobility and though she would never admit this, she was quite fair to look upon. All was now concealed in a deep hood.

For that night and into the following day the boat took her upstream, into a more less populated area. It would be another day or two before she reached any kind of village or establishment, where she could sleep in a bed again. Vilisse camped ashore for the next three nights, and kept her guard up for as long as she could spare.



She shoved her boat upside a tree facing the wood near the bank and walked ashore. Though she had been to this small establishment before, it was hardly recognizable as anything that might contain life. The Man-village, allowed by the King of Mirkwood to exist as an outside establishment in the wild some time ago, resembled the forest around it, and was a trick to see if you did not know where to look for it, or that it existed. It was fenced in by wooden boards that covered the space between the trees that encompassed it. All was enclosed in except for a small opening, but large enough for three large men to walk abreast. Walking through the entrance with little notice, she went to the small inn that was kept up by a stout man, who greeted her readily.

"How can I help ya? Be needin' lodging?" He asked, staring at the state of her clothing, which was weathered due to years of use. In a voice as gruff as she could possibly muster under the cloak she answered him, "Yes." He looked at her suspiciously, deciding by the sound of her voice that she was an adolescent male. She made no move.

"Do you have money?"

"Who do you think you're--" She had let her voice slip. She cleared her throat and continued. "dealing with?" She handed him the correct amount.

"All right, all right! Sorry." And he went back behind the counter to grab a key and a piece of parchment. "You'll find your room here," He pointed to the paper, "and here is your key. Good night, sir." She mustered a 'thank-you' and went up the stairs, pack in hand.






Translations:

Vilisse: (meaning in Quenya) a person's "spirit", meaning his or her general personality and attitude.



Huore: Heart-vigor, aggressive in the ways of the heart (traditional spelled with two dots above the e, however my computer doesn't know the codes).



Istima: Knowledge, learned.



Elwen: Hearted- to have heart.



Arandur: A King's servant, Steward.



()