Disclaimer: Peter Jackson made the movies, but it was J.R.R. Tolkien who
wrote the various books that came into play here. Since this is both book
and movieverse, I will give them both the credit they deserve. I make no
money out of this, it is merely written for fun.
Until me meet again
It was night in Middle-earth when a ghostlike figure clad in white stepped out into the palace´s courtyard and looked up to the sky. The stars were already shining and cast a silvery shimmer over the dark land. The trees of Mirkwood, which stood as dark shadows against the sky, were rustling softly in the wind.
"Elbereth Gilthoniel, please save him. I know that something bad will happen to him... keep him safe until we meet again. I do not want to lose him." A silence voice was lost in the wind.
Ithiloth turned around and went back the way with slow steps, when she felt a hand coming to rest on her shoulder. Rapidly she turned, only to look into an all too well-known face. Blue eyes lookied at her full of compassion.
"Believe me, melethril en eleni, I will be with you soon again. It will not be a long journey, and the paths I will travel are safe. Do not despair, and do not pray to Elbereth, for better than she can, your love will guide me."
Just when the moon was rising, he kissed her.
When Legolas prepared to set out on the next morning, he looked around. Many had gathered, to wish King Thranduil´s son and his comrades Elladan and Elrohir of Imladris fair travel, but there was one face he looked for in vain. She had not come. The twinsons of Lord Elrond had mounted their horses already, and were nearing the great doors now. He was still searching the crowd, in the hope to see Ithiloth, if even for a short moment only, but no. She was not there, and the Prince of Mirkwood set out to Imladris with a heavy heart... not so much because she had not been there during their parting, but because he knew that she misgave him this journey out of fear that he would not return.
Legolas had been sent to Imladris in his father´s stead, and after the negotiations there had been settled, he wanted to return to Mirkwood. Lord Elrond´s offer to stay longer fell on deaf ears. "No. I have tasks to fulfill in my father´s palace. And even though I would like it very much to stay longer, autumn is coming, and there is one who waits for my return. I could not bear to be parted from her the whole winter." The Lord of Rivendell smiled, and understood. Legolas was on his way home on the next day, with Elrond´s words still lingering in his mind.
"May the Valar bless your ways, Legolas Greenleaf. I sincerely hope that my father´s light will shine for you, no matter where the fates will lead you. Namarië."
He raised to hand to a farewell, and looking into the distance, he stayed where he was for a long time, even after Legolas had disappeared from sight.
After many days of travel, and only short hours of rest, Legolas had crossed the Misty Mountains, and descended down the eastern slopes of the Hithaeglir. Beneath him was the great river Anduin, a glittering silver band, flowing lazily to the south, where he would flow into the sea in the Bay of Belfalas. Behind of the river was his homeland, the wood that people had learned to know and fear as Mirkwood. Nonetheless, however dark and dangerous the forest might be, it was his home, and he loved it.
Two more days of travel, and he had crossed the river and reached the Old Forest Road, which the dwarves traveling from the Ered Luin to the East had made in days of yore. Here he reined his horse, and chose to rest for the night.
A few steps off the way he lit a fire, welcoming the company of the animals that had come to share its warmth. Hesitanty, a doe stepped into the circle of light, and cast a shy look at the elf who rested with his back against a tree, dreaming of his beloved Ithiloth of Lórien. In his mind he recalled the day he had met her, some years ago.. the day which had changed his life forever.
It was sunny day when Legolas strolled to the forest. In a clearing he stopped and enjoyed the warmth, as he noticed a movement in between the dark firs on the eastern side of the glade. He heard a quiet voice singing, and even though he did not understand the words at once, he knew that he had heard the voice of an elf-maiden.
With his curiosity newly awoken, he went nearer... just to see the shape disappear between the trees. A fleeting thought of the Lay of Leithian came to him, as he followed the stranger.
Eventually he found her, and looked into Ithiloth´s face for the first time. Her green eyes shone, and her red hair, a feature he had not often heard of, was braided in a simple way. She smiled at him, but when she spoke her voice was mocking. "Now, Prince Thranduilion, why did you follow me?"
"I saw you in between the trees, and heard your song, and for a moment I felt like Beren, when he first laid eyes upon Lúthien the fair. And even though it is said of her that she was the fairest of our people, I daresay that there are two who equal her in beauty. The one is the Lady Arwen Undomiel, and the other is you, as great a difference as there may be. What is your name? Or do you not wish to give it away, and I will have to name you after the only one who has ever truly died?"
Still she smiled, but this time falttered by the prince´s kind words.
"Since I know now what lead you to me, you shall know my name. I am called Ithiloth, flower of the moon, but even dearer to me than Telperion´s last flower are the stars of Varda, for did they not shine when the first of our kin awoke at the waters of Cuivienen? "
"Yes, even then Elbereth watched over the first of the Eruhini. And your name should be melethril en eleni, the lover of the stars. But I fear I have to leave you now, my father will be awaiting me to plan last preparations for the feast tonight. I would like to meet you again. Namarië."
He turned to go as a call of her made him halt.
"Do not say namarië, we will see each other again soon. Of that I am certain."
With those words she quickly slipped away through the trees, and her promise did indeed come true.
It was even on that same evening that she came to the feat King Thranduil gave. Legolas found Ithiloth sitting on his father´s left side, where one his sister had been sitting once. He himself sat down on right, where once his mother´s throne had been.
The prince could not even remember the night when they had passed on to the Halls of Mandos, because he himself had been cruelly wounded by the blade of an Orc, and lay in feverish dreams as they were dying. However, the healers had told him later, when he had finally woken, that his mother had saved him, by giving her own life.
Unknown to Legolas, his father rose from his seat and clapped his hands, until the talk and laughter had subsided, and everyone was looking up at him now.
"Today we have gathered here to celebrate the arrival of Ithiloth of Lórien, who has come hither to improve the relation between her beautiful homeland, and our own. I am well aware that this is no small task to be done, and therefore she will stay a longer time with us, so that old prejudices, fears and dislikes may be set right or abandoned. "
With a motion of his hand he bade Ithiloth rise, and nodded to the musicians that were waiting for his command. When they had begun to play a well-known tune, Thranduil began to sing, and Ithiloth joined him.
A Elbereth Gilthoniel,
Silivren penna míriel
O menel aglar elenath!
Na-chaered palan-díriel
O galadhremmin ennorath,
Fanuilos, le linnathon
nef aer, sí nef aeron!
Legolas looked at her, unable to avert his eyes. She was wearing a dark green dress, embroidered with threads of gold that formed a pattern of falling Mallorn leaves on her sleeves. An intricate braid adorned with jewels kept the red curls from falling into her face. Her fair skin shone golden in the firelight, and to Legolas she looked more like one of the Valier than an elf-maiden. When he later thought about it, he named this the moment when he had lost his heart.
Legolas awoke from his memories when he noticed that the fire was burning down. He was busy with lighting it again, as suddenly, apparently out of nowhere an arrow came flying into his direction. He dropped to the ground behind a great boulder immediately, and grabbed his bow as well, firing some of his own arrows into the darkness between the trees.
A thud was heard, as if something had fallen to the earth, and then there were footsteps. Too light to be orcs, and too heavy to be elves, so it were humans that had attacked him. After some minutes of silence, he thought it safe to leave his shelter, and stood up, brushing leaves and earth from his tunic. Something rustled in the undergrowth, and distracted by that, Legolas never saw the second arrow coming, before it hit him in the left shoulder.
Swallowing a cry of pain and a curse, he broke off a part of the shaft to avoid further injuries, and fitted an arrow to his bowstring once more - too late. Black dots danced before his eyes, he fought to regain his balance, but only for a moment. Seconds later his strength left him, and he fell to the ground unconscious. The arrow had been poisoned, and the poison did its work quickly.
The Prince of Mirkwood did not notice that another elf stepped forth from the shadows, and called his comrades with a low whistle.
Until me meet again
It was night in Middle-earth when a ghostlike figure clad in white stepped out into the palace´s courtyard and looked up to the sky. The stars were already shining and cast a silvery shimmer over the dark land. The trees of Mirkwood, which stood as dark shadows against the sky, were rustling softly in the wind.
"Elbereth Gilthoniel, please save him. I know that something bad will happen to him... keep him safe until we meet again. I do not want to lose him." A silence voice was lost in the wind.
Ithiloth turned around and went back the way with slow steps, when she felt a hand coming to rest on her shoulder. Rapidly she turned, only to look into an all too well-known face. Blue eyes lookied at her full of compassion.
"Believe me, melethril en eleni, I will be with you soon again. It will not be a long journey, and the paths I will travel are safe. Do not despair, and do not pray to Elbereth, for better than she can, your love will guide me."
Just when the moon was rising, he kissed her.
When Legolas prepared to set out on the next morning, he looked around. Many had gathered, to wish King Thranduil´s son and his comrades Elladan and Elrohir of Imladris fair travel, but there was one face he looked for in vain. She had not come. The twinsons of Lord Elrond had mounted their horses already, and were nearing the great doors now. He was still searching the crowd, in the hope to see Ithiloth, if even for a short moment only, but no. She was not there, and the Prince of Mirkwood set out to Imladris with a heavy heart... not so much because she had not been there during their parting, but because he knew that she misgave him this journey out of fear that he would not return.
Legolas had been sent to Imladris in his father´s stead, and after the negotiations there had been settled, he wanted to return to Mirkwood. Lord Elrond´s offer to stay longer fell on deaf ears. "No. I have tasks to fulfill in my father´s palace. And even though I would like it very much to stay longer, autumn is coming, and there is one who waits for my return. I could not bear to be parted from her the whole winter." The Lord of Rivendell smiled, and understood. Legolas was on his way home on the next day, with Elrond´s words still lingering in his mind.
"May the Valar bless your ways, Legolas Greenleaf. I sincerely hope that my father´s light will shine for you, no matter where the fates will lead you. Namarië."
He raised to hand to a farewell, and looking into the distance, he stayed where he was for a long time, even after Legolas had disappeared from sight.
After many days of travel, and only short hours of rest, Legolas had crossed the Misty Mountains, and descended down the eastern slopes of the Hithaeglir. Beneath him was the great river Anduin, a glittering silver band, flowing lazily to the south, where he would flow into the sea in the Bay of Belfalas. Behind of the river was his homeland, the wood that people had learned to know and fear as Mirkwood. Nonetheless, however dark and dangerous the forest might be, it was his home, and he loved it.
Two more days of travel, and he had crossed the river and reached the Old Forest Road, which the dwarves traveling from the Ered Luin to the East had made in days of yore. Here he reined his horse, and chose to rest for the night.
A few steps off the way he lit a fire, welcoming the company of the animals that had come to share its warmth. Hesitanty, a doe stepped into the circle of light, and cast a shy look at the elf who rested with his back against a tree, dreaming of his beloved Ithiloth of Lórien. In his mind he recalled the day he had met her, some years ago.. the day which had changed his life forever.
It was sunny day when Legolas strolled to the forest. In a clearing he stopped and enjoyed the warmth, as he noticed a movement in between the dark firs on the eastern side of the glade. He heard a quiet voice singing, and even though he did not understand the words at once, he knew that he had heard the voice of an elf-maiden.
With his curiosity newly awoken, he went nearer... just to see the shape disappear between the trees. A fleeting thought of the Lay of Leithian came to him, as he followed the stranger.
Eventually he found her, and looked into Ithiloth´s face for the first time. Her green eyes shone, and her red hair, a feature he had not often heard of, was braided in a simple way. She smiled at him, but when she spoke her voice was mocking. "Now, Prince Thranduilion, why did you follow me?"
"I saw you in between the trees, and heard your song, and for a moment I felt like Beren, when he first laid eyes upon Lúthien the fair. And even though it is said of her that she was the fairest of our people, I daresay that there are two who equal her in beauty. The one is the Lady Arwen Undomiel, and the other is you, as great a difference as there may be. What is your name? Or do you not wish to give it away, and I will have to name you after the only one who has ever truly died?"
Still she smiled, but this time falttered by the prince´s kind words.
"Since I know now what lead you to me, you shall know my name. I am called Ithiloth, flower of the moon, but even dearer to me than Telperion´s last flower are the stars of Varda, for did they not shine when the first of our kin awoke at the waters of Cuivienen? "
"Yes, even then Elbereth watched over the first of the Eruhini. And your name should be melethril en eleni, the lover of the stars. But I fear I have to leave you now, my father will be awaiting me to plan last preparations for the feast tonight. I would like to meet you again. Namarië."
He turned to go as a call of her made him halt.
"Do not say namarië, we will see each other again soon. Of that I am certain."
With those words she quickly slipped away through the trees, and her promise did indeed come true.
It was even on that same evening that she came to the feat King Thranduil gave. Legolas found Ithiloth sitting on his father´s left side, where one his sister had been sitting once. He himself sat down on right, where once his mother´s throne had been.
The prince could not even remember the night when they had passed on to the Halls of Mandos, because he himself had been cruelly wounded by the blade of an Orc, and lay in feverish dreams as they were dying. However, the healers had told him later, when he had finally woken, that his mother had saved him, by giving her own life.
Unknown to Legolas, his father rose from his seat and clapped his hands, until the talk and laughter had subsided, and everyone was looking up at him now.
"Today we have gathered here to celebrate the arrival of Ithiloth of Lórien, who has come hither to improve the relation between her beautiful homeland, and our own. I am well aware that this is no small task to be done, and therefore she will stay a longer time with us, so that old prejudices, fears and dislikes may be set right or abandoned. "
With a motion of his hand he bade Ithiloth rise, and nodded to the musicians that were waiting for his command. When they had begun to play a well-known tune, Thranduil began to sing, and Ithiloth joined him.
A Elbereth Gilthoniel,
Silivren penna míriel
O menel aglar elenath!
Na-chaered palan-díriel
O galadhremmin ennorath,
Fanuilos, le linnathon
nef aer, sí nef aeron!
Legolas looked at her, unable to avert his eyes. She was wearing a dark green dress, embroidered with threads of gold that formed a pattern of falling Mallorn leaves on her sleeves. An intricate braid adorned with jewels kept the red curls from falling into her face. Her fair skin shone golden in the firelight, and to Legolas she looked more like one of the Valier than an elf-maiden. When he later thought about it, he named this the moment when he had lost his heart.
Legolas awoke from his memories when he noticed that the fire was burning down. He was busy with lighting it again, as suddenly, apparently out of nowhere an arrow came flying into his direction. He dropped to the ground behind a great boulder immediately, and grabbed his bow as well, firing some of his own arrows into the darkness between the trees.
A thud was heard, as if something had fallen to the earth, and then there were footsteps. Too light to be orcs, and too heavy to be elves, so it were humans that had attacked him. After some minutes of silence, he thought it safe to leave his shelter, and stood up, brushing leaves and earth from his tunic. Something rustled in the undergrowth, and distracted by that, Legolas never saw the second arrow coming, before it hit him in the left shoulder.
Swallowing a cry of pain and a curse, he broke off a part of the shaft to avoid further injuries, and fitted an arrow to his bowstring once more - too late. Black dots danced before his eyes, he fought to regain his balance, but only for a moment. Seconds later his strength left him, and he fell to the ground unconscious. The arrow had been poisoned, and the poison did its work quickly.
The Prince of Mirkwood did not notice that another elf stepped forth from the shadows, and called his comrades with a low whistle.