AN: Much thanks to the people who reviewed!!
Brief Summary:
This chapter starts from the time that Legolas and Namiir met, the story will then continue to the moment of their separation and the years they had been separated from one another. In that period of separation, the story of Namiir and Haldir will be told and in it, you will see a deeply embedded connection between the two… Is it of a friend or lover? At the end of Book I, you will find out who Namiir chooses; Haldir or Legolas. Of course, we all know what happens to Haldir in TTT (the movie of course, not the book)…
Amin mela lle = I love you.
Adar = Father.
Melamin = My love.
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Book One: Chapter I --- Strange Encounter.
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"Take Entarà and go to Rivendell, Farïr!" The wise elf spoke in a hushed voice to his wife, handing over their young daughter.
"I will not leave you to die!" The elven maiden cried out, taking their daughter into her arms with tears streaming down her glistening cheeks.
A party of Orcs were steadily making their way up the green valley of hills, in a much larger number than their own elven party.
Their cries pierced the air like a poisoned dagger.
"GO!" He cried helplessly, unsheathing the elven sword at his side.
Farïr took one look at her husband, fear clouding her eyes. "Amin mela lle, melamin…" She whispered.
Time seemed to have slowed for the elven warrior. He nodded, swallowing the grief he felt at the hurt upon her face.
The shrill cries grew as the herd of Orcs approached, too many to count, lining the hills to cause a black border.
He looked at his young daughter, who was whimpering, then back to his wife. "Tell her… Tell her that I never meant for this to happen." The elven warrior lowered his head to place a small kiss upon his daughter's brow, and then upon his beloved's. "Amin mela lle…"
Time seemed to have stood for the husband and wife as the cries of warfare grew with the stench of the creatures. The Orcs marched closer; they had not a moment to lose.
"Now go," without a moment of lingering, he mounted the horse swiftly, raising his sword in the air. He could not bear to watch his wife's face any longer for he knew he would follow her if he watched her go.
No other words were spoken as the elven maiden turned and ran gracefully into the canopy of trees that stood behind them. She prayed to the Valar for the safety of her husband… But knew it was a hopeless case.
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She weaved in and out of the tall trees of Rivendell with swift determination. Her elven feet caused no fallen leaves to rustle in disturbance and no sound was made as she ran forth, clutching at the hem of her indigo gown; until she came to a clearing in the amber forest. She would have to be careful in the way she moved, for she was certainly named a clumsy elf by her father. She often wondered how she seemed to be the only elf that was clumsy; most others were as graceful as the many precious woodland animals, silent and swift.
The pale moonlight shone down softly upon the fallen amber leaves of Rivendell. Namiir ran forth carefully into the clearing, searching the once disturbed area. Someone had certainly been here before. She looked up at the glittering stars, gazing at them with a distant gleam in her eyes.
A shower of light exploded in the sky, thousands of glimmering beads began to fall out of the sky.
"Adar, father!" Her gentle voice cried out with excitement. She looked around slowly, a frown growing upon her face. "Adar, you know I do not like these games, you have done enough hunting; it is dark now, enough games!" She called out loudly to the empty clearing, irritation marking the smooth features of her face. She spoke once more in hopes that her father would show himself. "Hurry father! Gandalf the Grey is here and I wish to see his fireworks display before he leaves!"
Namiir began to take a few steps away from the clearing, back into the thick amber foliage of the mystical trees, having given up on her father's adolescent behaviour. Being only five hundred years of age, Namiir still classified herself as a child, as did her father. Although she had come of age at fifty, as all elves do, she had felt the need to hold on to her childish intentions until she was at least over a thousand years old. For elves grow in wisdom as the years pass.
Perhaps then she could mature, at that moment she was perfectly content behaving in a child-like manner. Her figure, although looked graceful was a different matter completely as she stirred, and it still held a slight awkwardness as she moved around. It seemed that she was not comfortable in her own skin. She assumed that another five hundred years should rid her of the discomfort she felt in her body, until then she would have to make do…
She could hear the distant roar and thunder of Gandalf the Grey's fireworks display. She allowed a small smile to touch her lips. Such childish notions as watching a fireworks display was still not lost upon the young elven woman. In fact, she took great pleasure in watching the new creations of the old wizard Gandalf. Whilst younger elven children stood amidst the wizard's presence to watch the fireworks, she simply watched from afar and was comfortable in her tiny hiding spot as the young elven children danced around the merry flames of the fireworks.
In her utter excitement at the thought of fireworks, her senses became disarrayed and so her elven ears did not pick up on the gentle sounds behind her. She was so unaware of her surroundings that she allowed her back to collide with a hard, warm object.
Namiir froze, her eyes darting back and forth in mild fear and anticipation. A cold sweat threatened to break out over her porcelain skin as two strong hands firmly gripped her arms from behind, steadying her.
"You should be more careful, Lady." An unfamiliar voice uttered softly into her sensitive ear. She held back a shudder. As the gradual shock passed and she regained most of her senses, she set about struggling in the sturdy grasp.
To her surprise, she was released without hesitation and she whirled around in her bemused state to find a pair of ice blue eyes watching her with delight. "It is not safe for a Lady to be out alone at night," the strange elf continued.
She gaped at the outlandish elf that had dared to touch her in such an unbecoming manner. Her eyes glazed over the strong features of the elf's face, clad in lowly warrior garments, to his regal brow and the exquisitely long hair that seemed to have been spun with white silk. It was the eyes that caught Namiir's interest. They gazed at her mockingly, condescendingly in icy blue amusement… Or so it seemed.
A moment of silence passed as Namiir refused to answer to the sly comment made by the overtly handsome elf. Along with the silence, she could see the amusement from his eyes fade away as she continued to stare at him coldly in stark silence. She was never one to take interest in such matters of lust and love and so she saw nothing of importance in the blonde elf. Yet she could not help but notice a stirring in the elf's eyes, as though he had awoken from a deep slumber.
She frowned.
There had been a time in her life, nearly a hundred years ago in which she had grown wild with the merriment of taking pleasure in men, but those years had passed and she seemed to have transgressed back into her former childish state. She knew not the reason for the transgression, merely that it took place. And it seemed that her father could not have been more pleased.
Legolas cleared his throat, clearly perplexed by the intent look he received. "Have you lost your way?" He forced himself to ask quietly.
Prior to this, he had been practising his archery skills some hundred meters away from where he stood. He was always glad for the opportunity to practise archery in the dark, it always improved his skill. He had been immersed in hitting various targets specially set up for him, when he heard a voice call out. Intrigued by the playful intonation of the voice, he followed the gentle sounds only to find himself standing behind this raven haired she-elf that was now gazing upon him in slight disdain.
Never had he seen such a reaction from a she-elf, for they all seemed to be over come with a spell once they gazed upon him, much to his disappointment. He would then be followed around by the countless females, in their desperate attempt to be noticed. Even though he sometimes enjoyed the attention, it seemed to grow tiresome after a while and soon Legolas would scorn such attention from females. And so this cold reaction coming from the strange she-elf was quite comforting. He came out of his hidden trance as she rewarded him with a fleeting yet irritated glance.
"I have not lost my way." She quipped lightly. Her attention upon him seemed to be lost once more as she began to search the clearing. Legolas merely watched her in adept fascination. "Have you seen any other elven folk in this part of the woods?" She asked suddenly, surprising him out of his thoughts.
"Nay…" He trailed off as a prior memory came to him, "But there was one elf I happened to chance upon, he was riding inwards to Rivendell."
Namiir almost cursed at the news. Her father had left her here. Alone, and at night no less! What could he have been thinking about?! She rolled her eyes and abruptly began to walk in the direction of the place she had come from.
Legolas held back a surprised grunt as he moved forward to stop her from leaving. He could not let her roam the woods by herself, especially after sun down, even though the Ford protected the borders of Rivendell, one could never be too sure how close evil lurked.
"Excuse me?" Namiir said, shocked by the elf's behaviour. "Kindly remove yourself from my path!"
The Mirkwood Prince frowned at the demand. He had never been so callously spoken to before and if he were honest, he would say he was not fond of it in the slightest. It seemed that the young woman had a lot to learn about etiquette and manners in the presence of others. He had never used his station as Prince to demand respect, but he knew that she would not have spoken to him in such a manner had she known he was a Prince.
"May I at least be allowed to have a name, fair Lady?" He forced himself to ask politely.
Namiir paused briefly before she allowed herself to answer. "Only if you shall give me your name in return." She frowned to herself, not knowing what compelled her to ask that question. She was in no way interested of learning the elf's name and yet the question had tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop herself.
Legolas's lips curved into a small smile, "Very well," he agreed as he looked down into the she-elf's startling violet eyes. Why had he not noticed them before? And why did they seem to glitter with such an abundant force of life? His head was spinning as he forced himself to blink, realizing that his staring was making her uncomfortable. Yet he could not help but wonder she had the strangest luck in her colouring. Raven black hair and violet eyes were not common among elves. She must be a Halfling of some sort, he reasoned to himself unwillingly.
"I am Namiir, daughter of Namör," she said suddenly. If she hadn't known better, she could have sworn her skin had started to tingle as he stared at her. But such thoughts were folly and so she dismissed them by speaking her name.
"Namiir," he repeated with interest. It was a common elvish name; he was surprised she had been given such an undeserving name.
"And you?" she prompted curiously.
"I am Legolas, son of King Thranduil." He waited for her reaction, but upon seeing none he added, "I am not from Rivendell, but from the neighbouring woodland realm of Mirkwood."
Whatever reaction Namiir felt to his name, she hid with a purpose. So this was King Thranduil's son, the famous Prince Legolas? She almost wanted to laugh. There had been much enthusiasm on behalf of the Prince's beauty, but she could only see a handsome elf. He was not astonishingly beautiful like the lovers she had in the past, although his intimidating presence could not be diminished. Nor could the glowing aura that surrounded the Mirkwood Prince be denied.
Namiir realized that he was searching for her reaction to his announcement. She grinned inwardly, suddenly filled with a mischievous disposition. "Legolas you say? The Prince Legolas?!" She feigned with girlish surprise.
He nodded with dejection. So, he had come across another fanatic she-elf. Too long had he searched for a mate in which he could share his life with. This was another she-elf that was wasted upon him, for undoubtedly she was only interested in his looks or royal position. Or unfortunately, both. He shook his head with disappointment. He was certain that she would have been different from the rest, but it was not to be so.
"Oh, how wonderful!" Namiir said with artificial joy as she raised one eyebrow. Her face betrayed her true thoughts and she gazed at him with revulsion before she caught the odd look that passed across his face. Was that misery she saw upon his face? Surely it could not be! Suddenly uncomfortable with his reaction, she began to slowly move away from him. She knew not why such pity filled her as she looked upon his melancholy face.
Shaking her head, she forced herself out of the mischievous mood that reigned prior to her encounter with the Prince, "Well, I must be off!" And with that said, she quickly ran from the clearing towards the inland of Rivendell, leaving the Mirkwood Prince staring after her in utter confusion. He watched her run awkwardly away, almost as though she was not used to the task. If he had been in his right wits he would have laughed, but the Prince was too bewildered to do such a thing.
"How odd…" He murmured to himself as he turned around to return to his previous activities. The disappoint he had felt towards her had been vanquished by her abrupt departure and yet, he could not help but wonder if she was intimidated by his presence as most other elven females were.
"Your majesty!"
The alarmed voice severed his thoughts and Legolas frowned in concerned confusion. He turned, only to be met by a fellow elf, a Rivendell warden.
The elf did not waste time on pleasantries, "You must see Lord Elrond. It is a matter of urgency!" The panic in the elf could not be hidden, and so without reply Legolas followed him swiftly into Lord Elrond's presence, a sense of foreboding taking hold of the usually calm Prince.
~*~
"Adar!" Her voice rose to a high pitch as she walked through the halls of Lord Elrond's home. Without the courtesy of knocking, she stormed into her father's quarters. She found him hunched over the large wooden desk, littered with scrolls and parchments alike. She glared at his back, intent on refuting him of his neglect at leaving her in the forest alone.
"What is it, hên?" He spoke without turning to face her.
She froze, immediately catching the weary and sullen tone of his voice. Lifting up the hem of her gown, so as not to trip, she made her way over to the large desk.
"What troubles you, Adar?" She asked. Her brow furrowed with concern as she knelt beside the desk, looking up at the portrait of his haggard face.
He turned his gaze slowly down to his daughter, grief simmering beneath the blue orbs of his eyes.
"Word has come of Tirôn." The elder elf paused, unable to continue. He did not want to see his own grief reflected in that of his innocent daughter.
"What about him?" Namiir urged in earnest. Why would he not tell her?
Namör sighed in regret. "He has fallen, hên." The deep voice of the strong elf broke off in pain.
The young elven woman stared at her father for several moments, before rising from her knees to stumble back in shock. "H-how?" She stuttered in a mere whisper.
"Ambushed by Orcs on their journey Rivendell," her father replied sternly in resentment.
"And what are the whereabouts of Farïr and Entarà, father?" She braved herself for the reply. When she received no reply, she spoke louder, a whirl of emotions cascading down upon her in a kaleidoscope of fear. "What happened to them?"
He took another moment before he could reply. Upon finding the strength to continue, he began once more in a miserable tone, "They were not found amongst the bodies."
Namiir whirled away, clamping her palm upon her mouth as she stifled a scream. Her energy from before seemed to have drained and she fell lifelessly to her knees as tears threatened to spill upon her cheeks. "This cannot be!" She uttered quietly, shaking her head in disbelief.
Her precious elder brother was lost to Orcs and now her sister in-law and beloved niece were lost! How could the Valar bestow such cruelty upon her in a single day? She shook her head silently in defiance. Standing once more, she turned to face her father.
"Farïr and Entarà are still out there Adar; we cannot leave them to die." She pleaded her case desperately.
Her father nodded, "I have already implored the counsel of Lord Elrond. He has deployed any help available in retrieving them."
A shower of relief fell upon her as she realised that her niece and sister in-law could be saved. But as soon as the relief passed, grief engulfed her once more and felt the return of her tears that brimmed in her eyes. "Tirôn…" She whispered, looking at her father with renewed sorrow.
Without warning, she launched herself forward into the arms of her father, daring to neither shed a tear or sob, for she knew her father bore the same pain. A gentle hand caressed the back of her head, trembling of its own will.
"We must wait for any new word until the sun has dawned, hên. Until then, we must keep hope."
Although her father's words brought comfort, she could not help but already grieve for her niece and sister in-law.
The night would pass with troubled tension and she was terrified that a red sun would rise in the morning. Sleep would not come easily to her on this night. As her father tried to soothe her with comforting murmurs, the dam of tears broke and she cried out for her brother, her companion…
Her broken family.
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AN: That's it for now! Hope you liked it, and please feel free to give feedback (hint, hint) good, bad or rude hehe! Huge thanks to the people who reviewed the previous chapter!
Until next time!