A/n: Pestering short chapter, so very sorry. Would write more, but,
*yawns* it is high time for me to sleep.
NOW I will respond to reviews!!!!!!! I didn't have much room last chappie, and I was feeling depressed, so I didn't do it then. ^_^ I would never forget about you, darlings!!!!!
In response to chapter eight reviews:
TheLady *Elentari: Lovable idiot.
Legolas19: :) Love you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Huggles to you, darling reviewer!!!!!!!!!!!!
Aiyh-Sa: wahahahahaaa... I am evil! But I'm updating... waitaminute... am I evil or good for updating? Let's leave that question to the philosophers.
Silvawen the Elf Crumpet: Darling!!!!!!!!! I am redeemed, yays and fluffy bunnies doth rain upon the face of the earth!!!!
nyctophobia: Ooh, yays, another happy reviewer. And do not worry about substantial lack of rose dreams, I will do more towards the end.
Ithildin: YAY!!!!!!!!!!!! CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM!!!!!!!!! Sorry 'bout the dialogue, it keeps getting very silly when I write between Leggy and Aragorn. I don't do it, I swear!!!! It's Hereniath, my fluffy bunny muse!!!!!!!!
Crys Ritter: That particular image makes me feel all warm and fuzy inside... here! More!
val: Hiya sweetie, thanx SOOOOOOOOOOOO much for reviewing like, every chappie. :( Sorry!!!!!!! I have been REALLY BAD AT WRITING for the past while. And I was inconsiderate by not responding last chapter... (begins to wail)
Gilraen3: Yay! Okay, here!
MoroTheWolfGod: More, here!
Reviews for chapter nine:
MoroTheWolfGod: More! Here!
Silvawen the Elf Crumpet: (smiley) I broke that little promise and am updating early. Luv ya, chix!
Gilraen3: :) :) :) :) :) Yay, flattery!!!!!!!! (lets her head inflate a bit) I will write more because of your support!!!!!!
Aiyh-Sa: (grins) Here ya go, gift-wrapped and packaged. And... Elisabet isn't in this chappie, her sister is!
MaidenOfImladris: I love youuuuuuuuuuu!!!!! And a bit of Ghostie- ness in this chapter. :)
Legolas19: YAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!!!!!!!! More flattery, it's going to my head!
Oh, and I'm sooooooooo sorry if I left any of you wonderful angels out. Ready? Go!
Chapter 10: The Roses of Mortality
Legolas woke early. The sunlight was shining though the small window, and the scent of hay pervaded his nostrils. He sneezed, and wiped his nose thoughtfully. //I really do hate living in human settlements. They're too closed up.//
"Morning, Aragorn," he said sweetly, his voice a bit scratchy from the dust in the loft. Aragorn mumbled something unintelligible and rolled over in his sleep. Legolas sighed, and gave him a small peck on the nose before standing up.
//Owch. My back aches... That is the absolute last time I sleep on a hayloft floor. I don't care if the owner complains; I will dismantle a bale if need be.// Legolas reached up to brush his hair out of his face, and froze.
A scream was heard from the passerby in the street. It was so high- pitched and furious that many of them winced an blocked their ears.
Legolas grabbed a brush and furiously began to comb out the bits of hay that had invaded his hair. He glared at it, and didn't particularly care when Aragorn rushed over to see what was wrong.
//I HATE human settlements.//
__________________________________________________________
Aragorn was awoken by his beloved's shriek. He sat bolt upright and ran over to him, concerned that something terrible had happened. In a sense, something had; it would take at least an hour to brush out Legolas's hair.
While he waited, Aragorn grew filled with boredom. Finally he could not stand it any longer. "Legolas?" he asked, annoyance tinging his deep voice. Legolas looked over, his own annoyance just as evident in his stormy grey eyes, clenched jaw, and his eyebrows, which were furrowed to the point where they were at 45 degree angles. Aragorn noted uneasily the change in his demeanor, and decided he could wait as long as it took. "Never mind."
Legolas sighed. "Sorry, I've been a bit grumpy this morning, haven't I?" Aragorn nodded. Legolas sighed again, and opted to simply knot his hair atop his head. That done, he got up and stretched. "I guess my hair can wait," he said reluctantly. "Though it will be a mocking crown, to have straw throughout it. Now, you should probably call me Ghost again, so people won't immediately realize I am an elf. After all, no elf should go hooded and masked, and that will provoke questions I do not want to answer. Legolas is a very elven name. And... I guess I can call you Strider. Is that all right with you?" Aragorn shrugged.
"I don't have any problems with it," he said complacently. Inside, though, he worried what effect being called a ghost would have on Legolas's fragile mentality. It seemed cruel to him, but Legolas's reasoning made sense.
//Strider, eh? My love certainly has an excellent memory. I think we talked for hours after... I can't find the words for what that was. I don't know what it could be called. Sex is far too mundane, too simple, too crude for something like that.//
Aragorn stretched, and warily scanned the barn floor before dropping down from the hayloft. He raised a hand, and Legolas froze. "What is it?" he whispered, eyes widened. Aragorn grinned.
"I know your elven grace permits you to jump for quite a length and land perfectly, but would you mind landing in my arms? Please?" Legolas mock-glared.
"You Humans have the strangest fantasies," he muttered loud enough for Aragorn to hear. He looked down. Then Legolas sighed, closed his eyes, and let himself fall backwards.
It was a pleasant sensation, falling. At least for a while. His stomach, bored out of its mind of years of perfect balance and no awful sights to make it churn, and getting sick of heaving over emotional nonsense, instantly perked up and began to make the sensation of falling very unpleasant. It reminded Legolas quite jovially, with a vicious twist and leap, that elves were not meant to fall.
Legolas landed in Aragorn's arms panting, brow sweaty with the antics of his innards. He glared at his middle. //First life, now my you, you traitorous organ.//
His stomach smirked, and gave a wiggle before settling back down again.
Aragorn sighed happily. "You looked like an angel when you fell, a falling angel. Care to do it again?" Legolas gave him a real glare.
"I think I'll have to have stern words with my gut before I ever consider doing such a thing again. And no, I don't feel like falling. It's awful. Did you just call me an angel?" he asked quizzically. "Isn't that a winged spirit in several of your mortal blasphemous religions?"
Aragorn laughed. "Yes, I called you an angel, yes, that is what it is, and... blasphemous?" Legolas sniffed delicately.
"Everyone knows," he said, making sure from his inflection that Aragorn knew he was talking about *intelligent* creatures, "that Ea is the only Lord of Creation, the Valar and the Maiar are the only Lords and Ladies of Arda, and that the Maiar are roughly considerable as angels. Or however you choose to call them. Valar, I'd forgotten you humans were such idiots in that manner..." Aragorn laughed again, and then set out to the door.
"Come on," he said over his shoulder with a small smile, "let us go mingle with said idiots."
__________________________________________________________
Legolas held the blades in his hands, testing their weight. They were excellently crafted, and the trader had explained precisely what the alloy was made of. Suprisingly enough for human weapons, it had no gaudy decoration. It was merely hilted with deeply engraved iron, bearing the elvish for: We are Twins/And Twinned we shall be/With the strong who make/Their own destiny. Legolas shrugged. The first two lines were on one blade, the other two were on the other. Their only other difference was that the stones in their pommels were different colours. One was a light, merry green, and the other was a green as deep, and somber, as the dark forest or the near-black of the angry sea.
Which was why they had been in the "bargains" section. They did not match, though they were a pair, and anyone would have trouble selling them. They were good blades, however, and Legolas for one did not particularly care what colour the stones were. They were usable, and that was what mattered.
//Silly humans, always bothering about what will look good. No, stupid elf, stop that; get your mind back on track. You've gotten your swords from that trader (and it took long enough!), now go find Ara- Strider. I have to start thinking his name like that, or I'll slip and call him Aragorn by mistake.//
The dust of the market square got up his nostrils, making his throat feel dry and scratchy. He had tied a cloth over his mouth to keep it out, but it still crept into the edges of his cloak and clothing, and making the sensation of being under the heat of the sun no less unbearable.
His hood was down, and he had managed to work out the straw from his hair earlier while Aragorn had scouted out swordsellers.
A slight wind grew into a pleasant breeze, and Legolas let his hair down, the sweat on his scalp drying slightly. He smiled sweetly. //I give my respect and thanks, Manwe.//
A hand brushed his shoulder. "What is your name?" said a soft voice. Legolas turned. A shorter woman was standing there, her eyes a startling shade of yellow and her hair long, gently rolling and a shimmering black. Legolas stared.
"Do all women in this town have such eyes?" he asked curiously, his throat yet dusty. The woman sighed, her yellow girdle, sweeping skirt, and bustier seemingly unaffected by the dust in the air. She was wearing a lovely white blouse with ruffled sleeves, and only it showed the grime. She glared at him.
"I suppose you speak of Elisabet." Legolas laughed, caught off guard. He smiled.
"I did not take a liking to her, if that is what you are upset over. My name is Legolas." //Well, Elisabet knows, and I think she will not tell anyone. It does not seem to be in her nature.//
She grinned. "I am Lirabeth. She and I are sisters, but we are altered in our looks by... spell and sorcery, milord." Her face fell. "Our father was beautiful, milord. Too beautiful to be human. We are..." she paused, before she spat the word out with venom. "Demonspawn." Legolas stared.
"Let me touch your hands," he said cooly. Lirabeth let her hands raise limply, and Legolas touched them with a bit of hesitation. He frowned and dropped them, wearied disgust in his eyes.
"You humans are too suspicious, too spiteful, gossipers and too quick to judge. Your father was no evil being. Yellow eyes do not make the cat an owl, and clawed hands do not make the owl a cat. Beauty does not make vice, nor vice beauty." Lirabeth smiled, and a light was in her eyes.
"You are elven. Are you beautiful?" Legolas dropped his gaze.
"No. I am the opposite. I am scarred with ugliness. Elisabet... cringed. She would not look me in the eye." Lirabeth sighed, and gently brushed her Legolas's hair back.
"My sister is not a kind soul," she said with bitterness hardening her voice. "And she chooses ...the most degrading means... to keep us sustained. I am a writer. She is a giver of pleasure. We were sisters once in spirit. Not so anymore."
"Hello, Ghost. And who is this young lady?" Legolas felt a protective hand latch onto his shoulder. He smiled.
"She knows my name, Aragorn. She's Elisabet's sister."
"Though not guilty by association, I hope," Lirabeth said wryly. She stuck a hand out. "My name is Lirabeth. Good to meet you, Aragorn. You'll be going soon?" She sounded so disappointed that Legolas began to curse his lack of resistance.
He smiled. "We'll be going tomorrow. But we'd like nothing more than to spend our time with you." Lirabeth smiled again, brighter than ever.
"Thank you!! Shall we go to the inn? My sister only has the night shift." Legolas shrugged.
"Certainly."
__________________________________________________________
*****tbc*****
A/n: Ooooooooh, nice Lirabeth. Wonder if she's hiding a past? H'mmm... Well, anyway, if you are going to read my stuff, please read and review for I don't wanna be a Mary-Sue!. It's weak and helpless. And I have only posted two chapters. But I need esteem!!!!!! (it's about Sauron arguing with a narrator who's made him a Sue)
I love you all, if you review. And if you don't... I'll send out my score of rabid elf clones. :) Love you anyway, though, because at least I'm being read. :) :) :) :)!!!!!!!!!
~Nightbird*Songbird
NOW I will respond to reviews!!!!!!! I didn't have much room last chappie, and I was feeling depressed, so I didn't do it then. ^_^ I would never forget about you, darlings!!!!!
In response to chapter eight reviews:
TheLady *Elentari: Lovable idiot.
Legolas19: :) Love you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Huggles to you, darling reviewer!!!!!!!!!!!!
Aiyh-Sa: wahahahahaaa... I am evil! But I'm updating... waitaminute... am I evil or good for updating? Let's leave that question to the philosophers.
Silvawen the Elf Crumpet: Darling!!!!!!!!! I am redeemed, yays and fluffy bunnies doth rain upon the face of the earth!!!!
nyctophobia: Ooh, yays, another happy reviewer. And do not worry about substantial lack of rose dreams, I will do more towards the end.
Ithildin: YAY!!!!!!!!!!!! CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM!!!!!!!!! Sorry 'bout the dialogue, it keeps getting very silly when I write between Leggy and Aragorn. I don't do it, I swear!!!! It's Hereniath, my fluffy bunny muse!!!!!!!!
Crys Ritter: That particular image makes me feel all warm and fuzy inside... here! More!
val: Hiya sweetie, thanx SOOOOOOOOOOOO much for reviewing like, every chappie. :( Sorry!!!!!!! I have been REALLY BAD AT WRITING for the past while. And I was inconsiderate by not responding last chapter... (begins to wail)
Gilraen3: Yay! Okay, here!
MoroTheWolfGod: More, here!
Reviews for chapter nine:
MoroTheWolfGod: More! Here!
Silvawen the Elf Crumpet: (smiley) I broke that little promise and am updating early. Luv ya, chix!
Gilraen3: :) :) :) :) :) Yay, flattery!!!!!!!! (lets her head inflate a bit) I will write more because of your support!!!!!!
Aiyh-Sa: (grins) Here ya go, gift-wrapped and packaged. And... Elisabet isn't in this chappie, her sister is!
MaidenOfImladris: I love youuuuuuuuuuu!!!!! And a bit of Ghostie- ness in this chapter. :)
Legolas19: YAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!!!!!!!! More flattery, it's going to my head!
Oh, and I'm sooooooooo sorry if I left any of you wonderful angels out. Ready? Go!
Chapter 10: The Roses of Mortality
Legolas woke early. The sunlight was shining though the small window, and the scent of hay pervaded his nostrils. He sneezed, and wiped his nose thoughtfully. //I really do hate living in human settlements. They're too closed up.//
"Morning, Aragorn," he said sweetly, his voice a bit scratchy from the dust in the loft. Aragorn mumbled something unintelligible and rolled over in his sleep. Legolas sighed, and gave him a small peck on the nose before standing up.
//Owch. My back aches... That is the absolute last time I sleep on a hayloft floor. I don't care if the owner complains; I will dismantle a bale if need be.// Legolas reached up to brush his hair out of his face, and froze.
A scream was heard from the passerby in the street. It was so high- pitched and furious that many of them winced an blocked their ears.
Legolas grabbed a brush and furiously began to comb out the bits of hay that had invaded his hair. He glared at it, and didn't particularly care when Aragorn rushed over to see what was wrong.
//I HATE human settlements.//
__________________________________________________________
Aragorn was awoken by his beloved's shriek. He sat bolt upright and ran over to him, concerned that something terrible had happened. In a sense, something had; it would take at least an hour to brush out Legolas's hair.
While he waited, Aragorn grew filled with boredom. Finally he could not stand it any longer. "Legolas?" he asked, annoyance tinging his deep voice. Legolas looked over, his own annoyance just as evident in his stormy grey eyes, clenched jaw, and his eyebrows, which were furrowed to the point where they were at 45 degree angles. Aragorn noted uneasily the change in his demeanor, and decided he could wait as long as it took. "Never mind."
Legolas sighed. "Sorry, I've been a bit grumpy this morning, haven't I?" Aragorn nodded. Legolas sighed again, and opted to simply knot his hair atop his head. That done, he got up and stretched. "I guess my hair can wait," he said reluctantly. "Though it will be a mocking crown, to have straw throughout it. Now, you should probably call me Ghost again, so people won't immediately realize I am an elf. After all, no elf should go hooded and masked, and that will provoke questions I do not want to answer. Legolas is a very elven name. And... I guess I can call you Strider. Is that all right with you?" Aragorn shrugged.
"I don't have any problems with it," he said complacently. Inside, though, he worried what effect being called a ghost would have on Legolas's fragile mentality. It seemed cruel to him, but Legolas's reasoning made sense.
//Strider, eh? My love certainly has an excellent memory. I think we talked for hours after... I can't find the words for what that was. I don't know what it could be called. Sex is far too mundane, too simple, too crude for something like that.//
Aragorn stretched, and warily scanned the barn floor before dropping down from the hayloft. He raised a hand, and Legolas froze. "What is it?" he whispered, eyes widened. Aragorn grinned.
"I know your elven grace permits you to jump for quite a length and land perfectly, but would you mind landing in my arms? Please?" Legolas mock-glared.
"You Humans have the strangest fantasies," he muttered loud enough for Aragorn to hear. He looked down. Then Legolas sighed, closed his eyes, and let himself fall backwards.
It was a pleasant sensation, falling. At least for a while. His stomach, bored out of its mind of years of perfect balance and no awful sights to make it churn, and getting sick of heaving over emotional nonsense, instantly perked up and began to make the sensation of falling very unpleasant. It reminded Legolas quite jovially, with a vicious twist and leap, that elves were not meant to fall.
Legolas landed in Aragorn's arms panting, brow sweaty with the antics of his innards. He glared at his middle. //First life, now my you, you traitorous organ.//
His stomach smirked, and gave a wiggle before settling back down again.
Aragorn sighed happily. "You looked like an angel when you fell, a falling angel. Care to do it again?" Legolas gave him a real glare.
"I think I'll have to have stern words with my gut before I ever consider doing such a thing again. And no, I don't feel like falling. It's awful. Did you just call me an angel?" he asked quizzically. "Isn't that a winged spirit in several of your mortal blasphemous religions?"
Aragorn laughed. "Yes, I called you an angel, yes, that is what it is, and... blasphemous?" Legolas sniffed delicately.
"Everyone knows," he said, making sure from his inflection that Aragorn knew he was talking about *intelligent* creatures, "that Ea is the only Lord of Creation, the Valar and the Maiar are the only Lords and Ladies of Arda, and that the Maiar are roughly considerable as angels. Or however you choose to call them. Valar, I'd forgotten you humans were such idiots in that manner..." Aragorn laughed again, and then set out to the door.
"Come on," he said over his shoulder with a small smile, "let us go mingle with said idiots."
__________________________________________________________
Legolas held the blades in his hands, testing their weight. They were excellently crafted, and the trader had explained precisely what the alloy was made of. Suprisingly enough for human weapons, it had no gaudy decoration. It was merely hilted with deeply engraved iron, bearing the elvish for: We are Twins/And Twinned we shall be/With the strong who make/Their own destiny. Legolas shrugged. The first two lines were on one blade, the other two were on the other. Their only other difference was that the stones in their pommels were different colours. One was a light, merry green, and the other was a green as deep, and somber, as the dark forest or the near-black of the angry sea.
Which was why they had been in the "bargains" section. They did not match, though they were a pair, and anyone would have trouble selling them. They were good blades, however, and Legolas for one did not particularly care what colour the stones were. They were usable, and that was what mattered.
//Silly humans, always bothering about what will look good. No, stupid elf, stop that; get your mind back on track. You've gotten your swords from that trader (and it took long enough!), now go find Ara- Strider. I have to start thinking his name like that, or I'll slip and call him Aragorn by mistake.//
The dust of the market square got up his nostrils, making his throat feel dry and scratchy. He had tied a cloth over his mouth to keep it out, but it still crept into the edges of his cloak and clothing, and making the sensation of being under the heat of the sun no less unbearable.
His hood was down, and he had managed to work out the straw from his hair earlier while Aragorn had scouted out swordsellers.
A slight wind grew into a pleasant breeze, and Legolas let his hair down, the sweat on his scalp drying slightly. He smiled sweetly. //I give my respect and thanks, Manwe.//
A hand brushed his shoulder. "What is your name?" said a soft voice. Legolas turned. A shorter woman was standing there, her eyes a startling shade of yellow and her hair long, gently rolling and a shimmering black. Legolas stared.
"Do all women in this town have such eyes?" he asked curiously, his throat yet dusty. The woman sighed, her yellow girdle, sweeping skirt, and bustier seemingly unaffected by the dust in the air. She was wearing a lovely white blouse with ruffled sleeves, and only it showed the grime. She glared at him.
"I suppose you speak of Elisabet." Legolas laughed, caught off guard. He smiled.
"I did not take a liking to her, if that is what you are upset over. My name is Legolas." //Well, Elisabet knows, and I think she will not tell anyone. It does not seem to be in her nature.//
She grinned. "I am Lirabeth. She and I are sisters, but we are altered in our looks by... spell and sorcery, milord." Her face fell. "Our father was beautiful, milord. Too beautiful to be human. We are..." she paused, before she spat the word out with venom. "Demonspawn." Legolas stared.
"Let me touch your hands," he said cooly. Lirabeth let her hands raise limply, and Legolas touched them with a bit of hesitation. He frowned and dropped them, wearied disgust in his eyes.
"You humans are too suspicious, too spiteful, gossipers and too quick to judge. Your father was no evil being. Yellow eyes do not make the cat an owl, and clawed hands do not make the owl a cat. Beauty does not make vice, nor vice beauty." Lirabeth smiled, and a light was in her eyes.
"You are elven. Are you beautiful?" Legolas dropped his gaze.
"No. I am the opposite. I am scarred with ugliness. Elisabet... cringed. She would not look me in the eye." Lirabeth sighed, and gently brushed her Legolas's hair back.
"My sister is not a kind soul," she said with bitterness hardening her voice. "And she chooses ...the most degrading means... to keep us sustained. I am a writer. She is a giver of pleasure. We were sisters once in spirit. Not so anymore."
"Hello, Ghost. And who is this young lady?" Legolas felt a protective hand latch onto his shoulder. He smiled.
"She knows my name, Aragorn. She's Elisabet's sister."
"Though not guilty by association, I hope," Lirabeth said wryly. She stuck a hand out. "My name is Lirabeth. Good to meet you, Aragorn. You'll be going soon?" She sounded so disappointed that Legolas began to curse his lack of resistance.
He smiled. "We'll be going tomorrow. But we'd like nothing more than to spend our time with you." Lirabeth smiled again, brighter than ever.
"Thank you!! Shall we go to the inn? My sister only has the night shift." Legolas shrugged.
"Certainly."
__________________________________________________________
*****tbc*****
A/n: Ooooooooh, nice Lirabeth. Wonder if she's hiding a past? H'mmm... Well, anyway, if you are going to read my stuff, please read and review for I don't wanna be a Mary-Sue!. It's weak and helpless. And I have only posted two chapters. But I need esteem!!!!!! (it's about Sauron arguing with a narrator who's made him a Sue)
I love you all, if you review. And if you don't... I'll send out my score of rabid elf clones. :) Love you anyway, though, because at least I'm being read. :) :) :) :)!!!!!!!!!
~Nightbird*Songbird