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 Five: A Message
Vilisse sat near a window, looking over the meat of this small civilization. It was near five in the morning, and she had been up for an hour, thinking out her journey. She would have lived in the wood forever, had it not been for the danger of her discovery. Vilisse was sure she could have hid herself, but her father was an elf of great tracking abilities. He had once been on King Thranduil's Royal Guard when he was younger. Well, younger than now. Huore had told her stories of his great adventures when she was very young, before her mother would pull her off to bed. Vilisse had enjoyed his tales of adventure and danger. He abruptly stopped when the effects of his stories were seen in her behavioral traits.
Vilisse knew she was not destined to be someone's maid, as her father put it so frequently. She knew she would be expected to find a way to provide for herself. But what Vilisse had in mind and what her father had in mind were two completely different stories. He had meant that she would be provided for. Vilisse thought she should be able to do anything she chose, and her father believed she should do anything that was becoming of herself. He never stood for anything that would be 'unbecoming' of her. His daughter aspiring to be in the Royal Guard was considered by him, 'unbecoming'.
Vilisse sighed and stood up. She knew she would have to be careful for the next couple of months or so, if not years. Vilisse figured her father might just give up on her, and tell the prince and his dad that they had to find a new wife for him. She slid into her well-worn cloak and slung her pack over her shoulders.
Meanwhile, near the Palace of Mirkwood, a lesson was taking place.
"You must keep your elbow bent and your wits about you. Remember, this is a only a test to track your progress. Keep on the trail. Act quickly and responsibly. Don't let your heart get the best of you, and more importantly", the tall elf looked at his pupil, "keep your mind on track. You have two hours to finish this course, though I doubt you will need it. Good luck Prince Legolas, and I will see you on the other side of the track. When you reach the Forest River, take the boat to the other side and follow the trail." The middle-aged-looking elf walked away, leaving one alone, armed with three quivers worth of arrows on his back and a long bow in his hand. The elf looked towards the trail. When his instructor had disappeared from sight, he began.
"What news have you brought forth from the Arandur estate?" Asked King Thranduil, who sat upon his throne of carved wood.
But the messenger from the Arandur estate held no happy expression. She had been sent by Huore himself to send word to the King of his daughter's timely disappearance.
"My dear King," she bowed low, almost to her knees, "Lord Huore and Lady Elwen regret to inform you that should your company start on their way to the Arandur estate, they would be disappointed at who they would not find there." The King's expression showed curiosity.
"Why should we be disappointed? Does Lord Huore not recall the negotiations we made in my hall when he was a member of my guard and a dear friend?"
"Yes, your Highness, he remembers perfectly well, but his daughter defies him. She knew not the extent of her father's special interest in your family until 7 months ago." The King looked not angry as one might expect, but baffled. "She has chosen quite a time to run off I'm afraid", said the messenger.
"Yes, she has. This I am very curious of, does she divert away from the Prince? Is this why she runs?" He asked.
"Lady Vilisse is determined she will not pose as a royal figure. She wishes to fall in love with the one whom she will. Lady Vilisse resists a marriage she had no knowledge of, nor of whom it is with." She answered in defense of her Lady. She had not come here to defend her cousin without a fight.
"This I cannot answer to. It is between Lady Vilisse and her father that this anger must be cooled. Are you tired from your long journey? Pray tell me your name?" The King asked.
"I am Lady Sacre, dear cousin to the Lady Vilisse." She said, bowing again before her king.
"My dear! Why have you not said this upon arrival?" He stood from his throne and took her arm, leading her out into the stone hallway to a guestroom.
"Stay as long as you wish. I do hope you will consider staying a while. Perhaps you can brief the prince on her absence?" He asked with a smile. Lady Sacre tried to smile back as best she could.
"Yes your highness." The king paid his thanks and swept away. Sacre stood outside the door. She had brought little with her, aside from what were in her saddlebags. Saddle bags! She thought suddenly. She had forgotten them in the heat of the moment as she left her horse Lasset in the care of the stable elves. Sacre headed back down the hall and out the palace towards the stables.
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.
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