Chapter 6
After a brief council with his sister, Vanawethwen, Legolas decided to take a walk outside the city walls. After sitting in one position the entire night, he felt the need to stretch his muscles. His observant gaze took in the beautiful city that was so unlike his home. Even though the evil had been purged from it, Mirkwood would always be a dark place, overcome by shadows. Rivendell was as bright and airy as Mirkwood was dark and suffocated.
Legolas rejoiced in the play of the sun on his face as he walked through the forest to the boundaries of Rivendell. The mighty Bruinen could be heard at the edge of the woods, the crashing of its falls filling his senses. Ahead of him, the trees ended and beams of sunlight poured in to light his path. Parting the leaves in front of him, he faced the river's waters, clear blue in the morning sun.
He stooped to the water's edge to cup a handful of the cool liquid. He splashed it across his face, rejoicing in its purity. As he stood, wiping the clear drops from his face, he felt the wind grow stronger. Much stronger. It whipped his hair about his face and took his breath away. The tempestuous wind compelled his legs forward until he gave up trying to fight. He walked with it, sought, to where he knew the Bruinen culminated in a waterfall. He'd heard its crashing even before he'd entered the deep forest.
The incessant blowing finally ceased, but still Legolas felt the need to see the falls. His curiosity grew with each step of his booted feet, until, at last, the powerful waterfall came into view. Only then did he notice the maiden seated on a large rock at the edge of the cliff. She was sitting in a meditative pose, hands palm up on her crossed legs. She wore a sleeveless, mint-colored gown that draped in folds at the collar, but was otherwise plain.
Indistinct words floated to his ears. They were persuading and melodic, and he felt himself straining to hear them. Again, the wind grew in intensity and he watched fascinated as her hair and dress fluttered in its wake. Her hands lifted slowly from her legs and the wind ceased. But what replaced it caused Legolas to gasp, audibly.
She dropped her hands to the water, dipping only her fingertips into its azure depths. But, when she lifted them from the water, it clung to her fingers, not in tiny drops, but in threads. Clear ribbons of water floated up from the river bed, detaching from her fingers to swirl about her body. They formed a criss-crossing mesh that flowed about her still form as her lilting words became a song. Her voice rose above the water's roar, its pure beauty dwarfing that of even the ribbons of water. These swayed and pulsed to the rhythm of her voice as it rose and fell.
Again the wind gathered strength, but this time it did not touch her. No strand of hair moved. No piece of fabric shifted. But Legolas was struck by it, full force. It hit him like a hammer forged in dwarf hands. He staggered under its power, raising a hand to shield his eyes so that he could keep them open. He felt unable to free his gaze from the water-shrouded syren who by now, had stood. The threads of water ceased their flowing and dropped to the river as she stepped down from the rock.
The water thinned where she stepped, allowing her to walk unimpeded. She made her way towards the flustered prince who still fought against the wind s onslaught. She stopped before him, raising her hand, then flinging it to the side. Immediately, the wind fled from him, and he was left coughing.
When finally he had composed himself, he said, "You knew I was here before I had even come close to the waterfall."
She nodded in response and then said nothing more. He opened his mouth to speak again but she raised a hand to stop him. "There is no need to ask questions of me, Legolas Greenleaf, for I could not answer them even if you were to speak them. I know not how I felt your presence, but I did, nor do I know how to control the wind and water, but I can. I am a mystery even to myself."
He could think of nothing to say to this so he simply peered at her. She was definitely the maiden he'd noticed yesterday, Maegquareiel. She stared back at him, and he could feel her eyes read his soul. He searched their violet depths, but could read nothing from them. She smiled, slowly, a look of understanding on her face.
"You have many answers for me, Legolas Greenleaf."
She stepped aside of him, and walked back toward Rivendell, stopping only briefly as Haeorewen came rushing over to her. They conversed quietly for a moment, then Maegquareiel nodded and continued on her way back to Rivendell.
Haeorewen walked over to Legolas' side. "I see you've met Maegquareiel. Interesting, isn't she?" she asked, good-naturedly, looking up at him.
"Yes," he said, almost silently, "interesting."
