Ellen sila lumen omentilmo!
Here's Chapter Eight. As for my comments, thank everyone for me, and
tell "Wicked Lady" that vanya and vana does mean fair, since the Vanyar
were the first and fairest race of Elves.
And Phe-chan will respond to the nice reviewers now! Firstly, to the nice reviewer who left no name in the box: I am thrilled that you enjoy the bit of strangeness! If it gets confusing, I apologize. The is/will be a prequel when I get the time. That will explain a lot, but this is the main story and has earned the right to go first. Jess: Thank you muchly! Wicked Lady: It's amazing what magic water can do, no? And as said, vanya does in fact, mean fair. Cindy: Yes, all things must end at some point. (Although this may go on and on and on for quite a while yet.) We will update as often as possible, promise. Heidi: I'm glad you like! (I sent an email, btw) Europa: Ah yes, I read in the library before too. Not such a good idea. But giggle as much as you want, it's good for you! Sorcha: Pepsi + Pretty One = FUN! Psycho-35803: You got the reference! It was GIR. Galadriel Greenleaf: YAY!!!!!! Hyper people are fun!!! Megolas: Laughter is good for you. Therefore, it does not make you insane. Rather, it is the refusal of laughter that drives one to madness.um.ok?
Lothlorien was beautiful. So was Haldir. Tall, blonde, and unthinkably regal, the domineering elf demanded Sarah's attention with his mere presence. He, on the other hand, noticed her not at all. Sarah smiled to herself. She had been in such situations before, and she was an expert at turning the tables. She would simply have to see about arranging a 'wake-up call' for a certain unforgivably gorgeous elf.
Legolas paced beneath the silver boughs of Caras Galadon. Where was Andrea? They would leave tomorrow on this quest of Galadriel's, but tonight. Tonight he must speak with his Squee.
She approached him quietly from behind and tapped the muscle of his shoulder. "Aiya!" Legolas shouted, jumping high enough to catch and scramble into The Great Tree's lower branches, from which he blinked at her, breathing hard. She clapped her hands and laughed.
"I snuck up on my elf!"
Legolas regathered what last fragments of dignity he could find and leapt lightly down to stand before her. Standing as straight as possible, he addressed her,
"My lady. my Squee."
Blushing and tugging at her filmy lilac dress, she murmured,
"My Pretty One. how did I sneak up on you?"
"I am a bit harried this night, Melamin," Legolas admitted, taking her hand and holding it gently.
"You are worried about our new quest, yes?" she asked.
"Well, and that also," the elf said slowly.
"What else?" she inquired, tilting her head slightly.
Legolas began to hedge.
"Only that I -" he stopped, blinked hard, and looked sharply away with just a slight inward tuck of his lower lip. It was his mannerism when he was distressed. He forced himself to look her in the eye.
"Only that I would have you for my wife," he said, dropping to one knee. Squee squealed. He pulled a ring of gold and diamonds from somewhere within his jerkin, trying not to wince at the pain in his ears as Squee squealed louder. He doggedly kept his face stoical, but her noises were kindling a blazing fire in his head.
"Will you marry me?" he murmured. Squee squealed louder than he had ever heard her - or anything else - shriek in all his nearly three thousand years. Legolas, in that moment, achieved the distinction of being the first man. elf. male to propose out of love and yet not worry about whether or not the girl would say "yes" or "no." He was only worried with preserving his hearing - he could FEEL his nerve endings disintegrating. (I am not certain he knew what nerve endings were, but something was dissolving in there; he knew that.)
"Andrea, Melamin, that hurts," he pleaded.
"Yes! Yes! Yes!" she squeaked, grabbing him and yanking him to his feet. Any other male would have been, at this point, reconsidering his offer.
"Melamin! Calm yourself! What are you going to be like on our wedding day?" he asked, half panicking, half laughing.
"Happy! Happy! I'm going to be happy!" she squealed in elation.
Legolas pulled her into his arms and hissed her hard. The noise promptly ceased, only to be replaced by the gasps and giggles of the ridiculous onlookers Legolas had forgotten were watching. Slowly, he pulled away. Her small mouth formed a perfect geometric oval, but the only sounds were the soft snickers of the pair's audience. Legolas laughed aloud. He had finally found a pleasant, easy method of quieting his Squee.
There were swans in the stream and roses on the rocks. Weeping willows and birches, majestic beeches, and the exquisite mallorn trees lined the stone- strewn banks. The stream bubbled gently, crystal-clear and perfectly pristine. Emerald moss and slowly wafting water plants were accented by the gossamer sun-shafts.
In this picturesque fairy portrait frame, Sarah sat loftily, robed in a golden gown given her by Galadriel. Her deep auburn hair was loose, hanging in a straight red cascade between her shoulder blades. Her lips looked as soft and as scarlet as the roses around her. Altogether, she made a stunning sight.
Haldir was obviously appropriately impressed, but Sarah's boundlessly deep eyes did not turn in his direction.
"You are one of Legolas' companions, are you not?" he asked to gain her attention. She blinked and regarded him condescendingly, as if to say,
"Oh. It's ONLY an incredibly, unbelievably, impossibly handsome elf."
"I travel with Legolas," she replied in a, "So, what to do you want?" tone of voice.
"What is your name?" asked Haldir.
"Why do you need to know?" Sarah asked with a soft snort.
"So that I may hold a conversation with you," Haldir answered, as though it ought to be obvious.
"How do I know that I want to talk to you?" Sarah returned, sounding for all the world like she was dealing with an arrogant street kid instead of a sentry of Elves.
"I know not whether you wish to speak with me or not," Haldir said, holding his temper hard, "but I want to talk to YOU, and I asked you your name."
Sarah tossed her hair and made him no reply. Narrowing his silvery-blue eyes, Haldir turned to go, first muttering,
"Females: they can have sense or beauty, but not both."
Sarah heard. Haldir scarce knew what had hit him. She came up off of the dew-glittered grass like a saffron-and-scarlet wind and slapped the haughty elf so hard that his cheek turned crimson.
"Anything more to say to me? Say it to my face. Any more insults to hurl? So I haven't got any sense? Well, I've got more sense than to waste my time on an arrogant, ignorant, self-satisfied, horse-eared jerk like you who has hair like Rapunzel's but not even a hint of a tan!" she stormed.
She executed a calculated, whirling pirouette that landed the stinging, whip-like ends of her hair straight across the elf's stuttering face. Haldir was fuming so hard as he watched her stalk off that one side of his face, already the color of Sarah's hair from her biting blow, turned a deep shade of purple. Her slap wasn't the thing that angered him most, however. Sarah had managed to tear Haldir's ego in half.
The next morning, the eight friends stood at the foot of The Great Tree before Celeborn and Galadriel. As she had done the previous night - then she had done so only to fiddle with it, if an elf may be said to fiddle with anything -, she removed the tiny star that was Nenya from her delicate finger. Handing it to Legolas, she asked,
"You are ready?"
"We are," he answered.
"None wish to turn back?"
"None."
"Then go with our blessing," Celeborn said quietly.
Legolas slid the cool, silver band over his ring finger and, not knowing how else to manage the feat, wished hard. Lothlorien melted away into the broad streets of Gondor.
And Phe-chan will respond to the nice reviewers now! Firstly, to the nice reviewer who left no name in the box: I am thrilled that you enjoy the bit of strangeness! If it gets confusing, I apologize. The is/will be a prequel when I get the time. That will explain a lot, but this is the main story and has earned the right to go first. Jess: Thank you muchly! Wicked Lady: It's amazing what magic water can do, no? And as said, vanya does in fact, mean fair. Cindy: Yes, all things must end at some point. (Although this may go on and on and on for quite a while yet.) We will update as often as possible, promise. Heidi: I'm glad you like! (I sent an email, btw) Europa: Ah yes, I read in the library before too. Not such a good idea. But giggle as much as you want, it's good for you! Sorcha: Pepsi + Pretty One = FUN! Psycho-35803: You got the reference! It was GIR. Galadriel Greenleaf: YAY!!!!!! Hyper people are fun!!! Megolas: Laughter is good for you. Therefore, it does not make you insane. Rather, it is the refusal of laughter that drives one to madness.um.ok?
Lothlorien was beautiful. So was Haldir. Tall, blonde, and unthinkably regal, the domineering elf demanded Sarah's attention with his mere presence. He, on the other hand, noticed her not at all. Sarah smiled to herself. She had been in such situations before, and she was an expert at turning the tables. She would simply have to see about arranging a 'wake-up call' for a certain unforgivably gorgeous elf.
Legolas paced beneath the silver boughs of Caras Galadon. Where was Andrea? They would leave tomorrow on this quest of Galadriel's, but tonight. Tonight he must speak with his Squee.
She approached him quietly from behind and tapped the muscle of his shoulder. "Aiya!" Legolas shouted, jumping high enough to catch and scramble into The Great Tree's lower branches, from which he blinked at her, breathing hard. She clapped her hands and laughed.
"I snuck up on my elf!"
Legolas regathered what last fragments of dignity he could find and leapt lightly down to stand before her. Standing as straight as possible, he addressed her,
"My lady. my Squee."
Blushing and tugging at her filmy lilac dress, she murmured,
"My Pretty One. how did I sneak up on you?"
"I am a bit harried this night, Melamin," Legolas admitted, taking her hand and holding it gently.
"You are worried about our new quest, yes?" she asked.
"Well, and that also," the elf said slowly.
"What else?" she inquired, tilting her head slightly.
Legolas began to hedge.
"Only that I -" he stopped, blinked hard, and looked sharply away with just a slight inward tuck of his lower lip. It was his mannerism when he was distressed. He forced himself to look her in the eye.
"Only that I would have you for my wife," he said, dropping to one knee. Squee squealed. He pulled a ring of gold and diamonds from somewhere within his jerkin, trying not to wince at the pain in his ears as Squee squealed louder. He doggedly kept his face stoical, but her noises were kindling a blazing fire in his head.
"Will you marry me?" he murmured. Squee squealed louder than he had ever heard her - or anything else - shriek in all his nearly three thousand years. Legolas, in that moment, achieved the distinction of being the first man. elf. male to propose out of love and yet not worry about whether or not the girl would say "yes" or "no." He was only worried with preserving his hearing - he could FEEL his nerve endings disintegrating. (I am not certain he knew what nerve endings were, but something was dissolving in there; he knew that.)
"Andrea, Melamin, that hurts," he pleaded.
"Yes! Yes! Yes!" she squeaked, grabbing him and yanking him to his feet. Any other male would have been, at this point, reconsidering his offer.
"Melamin! Calm yourself! What are you going to be like on our wedding day?" he asked, half panicking, half laughing.
"Happy! Happy! I'm going to be happy!" she squealed in elation.
Legolas pulled her into his arms and hissed her hard. The noise promptly ceased, only to be replaced by the gasps and giggles of the ridiculous onlookers Legolas had forgotten were watching. Slowly, he pulled away. Her small mouth formed a perfect geometric oval, but the only sounds were the soft snickers of the pair's audience. Legolas laughed aloud. He had finally found a pleasant, easy method of quieting his Squee.
There were swans in the stream and roses on the rocks. Weeping willows and birches, majestic beeches, and the exquisite mallorn trees lined the stone- strewn banks. The stream bubbled gently, crystal-clear and perfectly pristine. Emerald moss and slowly wafting water plants were accented by the gossamer sun-shafts.
In this picturesque fairy portrait frame, Sarah sat loftily, robed in a golden gown given her by Galadriel. Her deep auburn hair was loose, hanging in a straight red cascade between her shoulder blades. Her lips looked as soft and as scarlet as the roses around her. Altogether, she made a stunning sight.
Haldir was obviously appropriately impressed, but Sarah's boundlessly deep eyes did not turn in his direction.
"You are one of Legolas' companions, are you not?" he asked to gain her attention. She blinked and regarded him condescendingly, as if to say,
"Oh. It's ONLY an incredibly, unbelievably, impossibly handsome elf."
"I travel with Legolas," she replied in a, "So, what to do you want?" tone of voice.
"What is your name?" asked Haldir.
"Why do you need to know?" Sarah asked with a soft snort.
"So that I may hold a conversation with you," Haldir answered, as though it ought to be obvious.
"How do I know that I want to talk to you?" Sarah returned, sounding for all the world like she was dealing with an arrogant street kid instead of a sentry of Elves.
"I know not whether you wish to speak with me or not," Haldir said, holding his temper hard, "but I want to talk to YOU, and I asked you your name."
Sarah tossed her hair and made him no reply. Narrowing his silvery-blue eyes, Haldir turned to go, first muttering,
"Females: they can have sense or beauty, but not both."
Sarah heard. Haldir scarce knew what had hit him. She came up off of the dew-glittered grass like a saffron-and-scarlet wind and slapped the haughty elf so hard that his cheek turned crimson.
"Anything more to say to me? Say it to my face. Any more insults to hurl? So I haven't got any sense? Well, I've got more sense than to waste my time on an arrogant, ignorant, self-satisfied, horse-eared jerk like you who has hair like Rapunzel's but not even a hint of a tan!" she stormed.
She executed a calculated, whirling pirouette that landed the stinging, whip-like ends of her hair straight across the elf's stuttering face. Haldir was fuming so hard as he watched her stalk off that one side of his face, already the color of Sarah's hair from her biting blow, turned a deep shade of purple. Her slap wasn't the thing that angered him most, however. Sarah had managed to tear Haldir's ego in half.
The next morning, the eight friends stood at the foot of The Great Tree before Celeborn and Galadriel. As she had done the previous night - then she had done so only to fiddle with it, if an elf may be said to fiddle with anything -, she removed the tiny star that was Nenya from her delicate finger. Handing it to Legolas, she asked,
"You are ready?"
"We are," he answered.
"None wish to turn back?"
"None."
"Then go with our blessing," Celeborn said quietly.
Legolas slid the cool, silver band over his ring finger and, not knowing how else to manage the feat, wished hard. Lothlorien melted away into the broad streets of Gondor.