Dear Mellon,
My name is Legolas. I am the Crown Prince of Mirkwood. With a title like that, you probably think that I see all that is happening around me. But you are very wrong. For I once didn't see, or chose not to see, the life of another Elf slowly fade away right before my very eyes.
It was Spring, when she came to Mirkwood. 'She' was the Elf that made history. Her name was Vanima or beautiful in Elvish. Her name belied her looks, though. For she was the one Elf in the whole history of Middle-Earth to be ugly.
Rumor had it that she was from Rivendell, and that she had fallen into a depression that started to kill her. Her mother had sent her to Mirkwood in the hopes that the beauty of my homeland would cheer her up.
She had been in Mirkwood for about a month and still only a few had seen her. She tended to stay in the deep parts of the woods, coming back to the center and leaving it in the darkness of the night and the dusk of early morning.
Once I thought I saw her as I walked the paths that lead to the area where she wandered. She had been standing in a small clearing, surrounded by foxes, birds, rabbits, and even a few hawks. As I passed by I could feel her staring at me. I was amazed that she had come out of hiding.
However, I cared not about what she did, for I had found what I thought to be my true love. A she-Elf named Gloredhel. I showered her with attention. When our relationship became more intimate, I often felt those same eyes on me. Vanima obviously didn't know I felt them burning holes through the back of my head.
From what I gathered from the few who had seen her, I knew that the only feature on her face that was not disfigured was her eyes, which were a deep violet. Some said that if you could see just her pale blonde hair and her eyes, she might be considered pretty.
I often stopped to wonder why I cared so much about what she looked like. Mostly I just shrugged it off. I had a love, A'maelamin Gloredhel.
Then, about 5 or 6 weeks after I started to court Gloredhel, I got a message that my person was requested at the Healers. I knew that it wasn't Gloredhel, or my family that was there, for we had all been eating breakfast together when the summons came.
I went, only because I was curious. When I got there I was surprised to discover that it had been Vanima that needed me. I didn't understand until the head Healer explained that she was fading and had only laughed at their questions as to the reason why. She had fallen in to a deep sleep and called out my name numerous times. They asked that I sit beside her so she would not be deprived of the one presence she wanted at she slipped in to the claws of death.
As I entered her room, I saw that the rumors of her face were true. But the thing that made my heart go out to her was the fact that she started to cry as I sat beside her bed. I held Vanima's hand and whisper sang to her in Elvish all the songs I knew about happiness. While I sang, something seemed to happen to her face. The scars disappeared and all disfiguration smoothed out to leave a flawless face. I knew that her name now described her fully. For she was indeed Vanima, a beautiful she-Elf.
Almost the minute the transformation was complete, Vanima awoke. Her first reaction to me being there was to hide her face with her hair and to start to cry again.
Pulling her hand away, she jumped out of the bed and ran for the door. Many of the Healers tried to stop her, but Vanima made it out and through the door.
I ran after her. I knew that she was going to the clearing where I first saw her. And I did find her there. She was laying on the ground, as if she had just collapsed where she stood. I knelt beside her and brushed the hair away from her face. I could see that, although her last breath had come and gone, tears still coursed down her cheeks.
I carried her back to the center and gave her back to the Healers. I attended her funeral a week later. A week because her mother and father had come.
They gasped when they saw their daughter as a beauty and together we mourned the loss. They told me about her childhood and what a playful spirit she had.
Although she was dead, I began to fall in love with her. And to this day, over 20,000 years later, I still mourn for her. And when I do die, I hope that she will be waiting for me at the entrance of the Grey Havens . . .
~Legolas
My name is Legolas. I am the Crown Prince of Mirkwood. With a title like that, you probably think that I see all that is happening around me. But you are very wrong. For I once didn't see, or chose not to see, the life of another Elf slowly fade away right before my very eyes.
It was Spring, when she came to Mirkwood. 'She' was the Elf that made history. Her name was Vanima or beautiful in Elvish. Her name belied her looks, though. For she was the one Elf in the whole history of Middle-Earth to be ugly.
Rumor had it that she was from Rivendell, and that she had fallen into a depression that started to kill her. Her mother had sent her to Mirkwood in the hopes that the beauty of my homeland would cheer her up.
She had been in Mirkwood for about a month and still only a few had seen her. She tended to stay in the deep parts of the woods, coming back to the center and leaving it in the darkness of the night and the dusk of early morning.
Once I thought I saw her as I walked the paths that lead to the area where she wandered. She had been standing in a small clearing, surrounded by foxes, birds, rabbits, and even a few hawks. As I passed by I could feel her staring at me. I was amazed that she had come out of hiding.
However, I cared not about what she did, for I had found what I thought to be my true love. A she-Elf named Gloredhel. I showered her with attention. When our relationship became more intimate, I often felt those same eyes on me. Vanima obviously didn't know I felt them burning holes through the back of my head.
From what I gathered from the few who had seen her, I knew that the only feature on her face that was not disfigured was her eyes, which were a deep violet. Some said that if you could see just her pale blonde hair and her eyes, she might be considered pretty.
I often stopped to wonder why I cared so much about what she looked like. Mostly I just shrugged it off. I had a love, A'maelamin Gloredhel.
Then, about 5 or 6 weeks after I started to court Gloredhel, I got a message that my person was requested at the Healers. I knew that it wasn't Gloredhel, or my family that was there, for we had all been eating breakfast together when the summons came.
I went, only because I was curious. When I got there I was surprised to discover that it had been Vanima that needed me. I didn't understand until the head Healer explained that she was fading and had only laughed at their questions as to the reason why. She had fallen in to a deep sleep and called out my name numerous times. They asked that I sit beside her so she would not be deprived of the one presence she wanted at she slipped in to the claws of death.
As I entered her room, I saw that the rumors of her face were true. But the thing that made my heart go out to her was the fact that she started to cry as I sat beside her bed. I held Vanima's hand and whisper sang to her in Elvish all the songs I knew about happiness. While I sang, something seemed to happen to her face. The scars disappeared and all disfiguration smoothed out to leave a flawless face. I knew that her name now described her fully. For she was indeed Vanima, a beautiful she-Elf.
Almost the minute the transformation was complete, Vanima awoke. Her first reaction to me being there was to hide her face with her hair and to start to cry again.
Pulling her hand away, she jumped out of the bed and ran for the door. Many of the Healers tried to stop her, but Vanima made it out and through the door.
I ran after her. I knew that she was going to the clearing where I first saw her. And I did find her there. She was laying on the ground, as if she had just collapsed where she stood. I knelt beside her and brushed the hair away from her face. I could see that, although her last breath had come and gone, tears still coursed down her cheeks.
I carried her back to the center and gave her back to the Healers. I attended her funeral a week later. A week because her mother and father had come.
They gasped when they saw their daughter as a beauty and together we mourned the loss. They told me about her childhood and what a playful spirit she had.
Although she was dead, I began to fall in love with her. And to this day, over 20,000 years later, I still mourn for her. And when I do die, I hope that she will be waiting for me at the entrance of the Grey Havens . . .
~Legolas
