Disclaimer: grrrrr…I hate these things…
A/N; My new fic is called "Never Give Holly Sugar." Check it out!…I just wrote it!
Time: Misunderstanding
Legolas stood, awestruck. Rachel couldn't…he wouldn't believe that…
"Come, I have prepared rooms for you and your guests," Èomer said. The Mark sat speechless and his servant, Wormtongue whispered something in his ear.
"Gandalf! I must speak with you alone!" Theoden yelled as the party walked toward the door, Èomer in the lead. Gandalf nodded and walked back into the hall. The doors shut behind him.
"Here are your rooms, Master Dwarf. Aragorn. And yours, sir," Èomer said bitterly, bowing toward Legolas. The elf nearly growled, but at the look on Rachel's face, he surrendered, walking through the door and shutting it quietly. Rachel stared after him in confusion…he hardly ever glared…
"Your rooms, my fair, are this way," Éomer said walking along the hall. Rachel strolled after him, looking back at Legolas' chambers. Huh, he had seemed so…strained. All well.
The man stopped in front of a large, white oak door. He opened it and bowed low to Rachel. She was thinking…didn't even notice him about to speak. She hated him anyway…it didn't matter. The only reason she had been nice to him was to gain the trust of Theoden.
"Thanks," she said sourly, not even looking at the room before shutting the door in his face. Rachel sat down on the bed…a bed!!!
"Heaven…that's got to be it…I'm in heaven," she said to herself. She hadn't slept on a bed (other than Lothlorien) in about four months. This one was particularly comfortable too. Feather mattress with feather pillows and probably a feather comforter too. She lay back and sank into the fluffy (A/N: I hate that word.) cloth, about to fall asleep…then someone knocked on the door.
"Why me?" Rachel asked. She sighed and stood.
"Yes?"
"I've brought you something," Èomer said from behind the door. Rachel rolled her eyes and opened it. He held a long, red silk pajama out in front of her. It seemed like a slip, only plain and beautiful. If it had not been brought by him…she may have worn it….but probably not.
"And this is?" she asked with a bitchy attitude. The Rider laughed and handed it to her.
"Something for you to sleep in, my lady."
"Uh huh…umm…thank you! Now, buh'bye!" Rachel said, shutting the door again. Èomer chuckled…she couldn't hold out forever. He would eventually have her…one way or another, Rachel would be his.
"Tonight is my love's night," he said to the door.
"Bastard," Rachel said to herself. She threw the slip-thingy in a corner, but then decided better of it. She threw it out the window and into the courtyard instead. If only she had a match…
Rachel…what made her act that way toward Èomer? He had been so rude to her…so disrespectful. It boiled Legolas' blood to see that, even though he was rude, she seemed to…No! It wasn't real! She had to be…
"What's the use? Èomer seems to have beaten you to her," Legolas scorned himself. He was pacing the floor rapidly. A sound in the courtyard caught his attention. Across the garden, Rachel stood by the balcony. A crimson red piece of clothing lay in the dirt below her window. Legolas stopped like a deer being watched. Had she seen him? He knew she could hear him if she wanted to.
"Why?" Rachel told the stars. Legolas' ear twitched…She never spoke with such a wistful air before. Although it had been only one word, her voice seemed different in some way…more poetic and brilliant. Consuming more so than ever.
Rachel looked down at the red cloth upon the ground and climbed slowly over her balcony. She made sure to step on it before sitting at a bench surrounded by Midnight Lilies and wild ferns and flowers. Legolas jumped silently over his railing and walked to Rachel's. He picked her cloth up (He could now see it to be a pajama slip.) and walked toward her back. She didn't even turn around.
"Hello, Legolas."
"How did you know it to be me?"
"You are the only one who makes so little sound," she said, turning toward him. He was beautiful by moonlight. He peered at her, his mouth slightly open and held the slip out ot her.
"I believe you dropped this."
Rachel took it and put it on her lap. She checked the other balconies for sign of movement. No candles were burning and no feet shuffled. The courtyard was boxed in by wall-climbing ivy and sleeping companions.
"Thank you."
Silence.
When she turned her head back to Legolas, he had his eyes closed and his fists clenched. He could smell Èomer on her hand and on the clothing Rachel held. But, he could also smell her hair and skin and feel her breath, though she wasn't near, upon his chest (he stood, she sat). It had become an intoxication. She was standing now.
"Tell me what is the matter! You have been acting strangely for weeks!" Rachel whispered to him.
"I cannot tell you," Legolas said with an even voice. His eyes were still closed.
"Look at me!"
"…"
Rachel moved his chin to look at her and his eyes shot open. He jerked away, breathing hard.
"What's wrong?" she asked more desperately than forcefully. Legolas couldn't say…he was frustrated with himself for being such a coward.
"You wish to know?"
"Yes!"
"I can't stand to be near you!" he shouted in her face passionately, nearly interrupting her. Rachel's eyes went from worried to shocked to stone cold. She clenched her jaw and nodded.
"Very well then."
With that, she sped back to her room and closed the windows and drapes. Legolas still stood in the courtyard, speechless and angry at himself. He hadn't meant it like that. He had meant she was overpowering his senses. He couldn't stand to be controlled near her. The desire was…too much. And now, he would have to harness it for an eternity. His breathing was still raspy. Everything around him was blurry and unheard and only one thing went through his mind...She had left with such a hatred…
Èomer watched from a walkway above the courtyard. He smiled…Rachel hated Legolas…Legolas was heartbroken…It was perfect. Rachel would be distraut, crumbling…And he would be there to comfort her.
"Absolutely perfect," he said to himself. Nearly skipping with joy, Èomer walked along the path toward the steps. He had "comforting" to do…
A/N: Hehehe…Good, huh? I LOVE this chapter…one of my greats, really…^_^
A/N; My new fic is called "Never Give Holly Sugar." Check it out!…I just wrote it!
Time: Misunderstanding
Legolas stood, awestruck. Rachel couldn't…he wouldn't believe that…
"Come, I have prepared rooms for you and your guests," Èomer said. The Mark sat speechless and his servant, Wormtongue whispered something in his ear.
"Gandalf! I must speak with you alone!" Theoden yelled as the party walked toward the door, Èomer in the lead. Gandalf nodded and walked back into the hall. The doors shut behind him.
"Here are your rooms, Master Dwarf. Aragorn. And yours, sir," Èomer said bitterly, bowing toward Legolas. The elf nearly growled, but at the look on Rachel's face, he surrendered, walking through the door and shutting it quietly. Rachel stared after him in confusion…he hardly ever glared…
"Your rooms, my fair, are this way," Éomer said walking along the hall. Rachel strolled after him, looking back at Legolas' chambers. Huh, he had seemed so…strained. All well.
The man stopped in front of a large, white oak door. He opened it and bowed low to Rachel. She was thinking…didn't even notice him about to speak. She hated him anyway…it didn't matter. The only reason she had been nice to him was to gain the trust of Theoden.
"Thanks," she said sourly, not even looking at the room before shutting the door in his face. Rachel sat down on the bed…a bed!!!
"Heaven…that's got to be it…I'm in heaven," she said to herself. She hadn't slept on a bed (other than Lothlorien) in about four months. This one was particularly comfortable too. Feather mattress with feather pillows and probably a feather comforter too. She lay back and sank into the fluffy (A/N: I hate that word.) cloth, about to fall asleep…then someone knocked on the door.
"Why me?" Rachel asked. She sighed and stood.
"Yes?"
"I've brought you something," Èomer said from behind the door. Rachel rolled her eyes and opened it. He held a long, red silk pajama out in front of her. It seemed like a slip, only plain and beautiful. If it had not been brought by him…she may have worn it….but probably not.
"And this is?" she asked with a bitchy attitude. The Rider laughed and handed it to her.
"Something for you to sleep in, my lady."
"Uh huh…umm…thank you! Now, buh'bye!" Rachel said, shutting the door again. Èomer chuckled…she couldn't hold out forever. He would eventually have her…one way or another, Rachel would be his.
"Tonight is my love's night," he said to the door.
"Bastard," Rachel said to herself. She threw the slip-thingy in a corner, but then decided better of it. She threw it out the window and into the courtyard instead. If only she had a match…
Rachel…what made her act that way toward Èomer? He had been so rude to her…so disrespectful. It boiled Legolas' blood to see that, even though he was rude, she seemed to…No! It wasn't real! She had to be…
"What's the use? Èomer seems to have beaten you to her," Legolas scorned himself. He was pacing the floor rapidly. A sound in the courtyard caught his attention. Across the garden, Rachel stood by the balcony. A crimson red piece of clothing lay in the dirt below her window. Legolas stopped like a deer being watched. Had she seen him? He knew she could hear him if she wanted to.
"Why?" Rachel told the stars. Legolas' ear twitched…She never spoke with such a wistful air before. Although it had been only one word, her voice seemed different in some way…more poetic and brilliant. Consuming more so than ever.
Rachel looked down at the red cloth upon the ground and climbed slowly over her balcony. She made sure to step on it before sitting at a bench surrounded by Midnight Lilies and wild ferns and flowers. Legolas jumped silently over his railing and walked to Rachel's. He picked her cloth up (He could now see it to be a pajama slip.) and walked toward her back. She didn't even turn around.
"Hello, Legolas."
"How did you know it to be me?"
"You are the only one who makes so little sound," she said, turning toward him. He was beautiful by moonlight. He peered at her, his mouth slightly open and held the slip out ot her.
"I believe you dropped this."
Rachel took it and put it on her lap. She checked the other balconies for sign of movement. No candles were burning and no feet shuffled. The courtyard was boxed in by wall-climbing ivy and sleeping companions.
"Thank you."
Silence.
When she turned her head back to Legolas, he had his eyes closed and his fists clenched. He could smell Èomer on her hand and on the clothing Rachel held. But, he could also smell her hair and skin and feel her breath, though she wasn't near, upon his chest (he stood, she sat). It had become an intoxication. She was standing now.
"Tell me what is the matter! You have been acting strangely for weeks!" Rachel whispered to him.
"I cannot tell you," Legolas said with an even voice. His eyes were still closed.
"Look at me!"
"…"
Rachel moved his chin to look at her and his eyes shot open. He jerked away, breathing hard.
"What's wrong?" she asked more desperately than forcefully. Legolas couldn't say…he was frustrated with himself for being such a coward.
"You wish to know?"
"Yes!"
"I can't stand to be near you!" he shouted in her face passionately, nearly interrupting her. Rachel's eyes went from worried to shocked to stone cold. She clenched her jaw and nodded.
"Very well then."
With that, she sped back to her room and closed the windows and drapes. Legolas still stood in the courtyard, speechless and angry at himself. He hadn't meant it like that. He had meant she was overpowering his senses. He couldn't stand to be controlled near her. The desire was…too much. And now, he would have to harness it for an eternity. His breathing was still raspy. Everything around him was blurry and unheard and only one thing went through his mind...She had left with such a hatred…
Èomer watched from a walkway above the courtyard. He smiled…Rachel hated Legolas…Legolas was heartbroken…It was perfect. Rachel would be distraut, crumbling…And he would be there to comfort her.
"Absolutely perfect," he said to himself. Nearly skipping with joy, Èomer walked along the path toward the steps. He had "comforting" to do…
A/N: Hehehe…Good, huh? I LOVE this chapter…one of my greats, really…^_^