Again I say, I do not own anything that Tolkien created. So please don't
sue me, kill me, or throw helpless veggies at me.
This chapter moves kind of slow at first, but it will get better, I promise. Also, a BIG thank you to the reviewers for taking the time to write in. Now on we go! Woo-hoo!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Clulyan could only stare at her with all the expression of a goldfish. Daughter? He'd never heard any stories about any child when his father spoke of Legolas.
"Surely you jest..." he murmured. Her eyes blazed then, and Clulyan found himself cowering as she spoke. "Jest? No, Dwarf, I believe that is what you are doing. Everyone knows that no one has seen Legolas in decades. So you can tell whoever sent you that if I ever see you again, I will shoot you between your beady little eyes. I don't need to be troubed by people who have no respect for others. Do you understand me?" Her voice had steadily risen to a shout, while Clulyan had slowly begun to grow smaller in stature.
He mewled out a 'yes'.
Her muscles relaxed a bit, and she quickly retreated back into her forest home. Clulyan was left standing alone and bewildered.
The nerve of that Dwarf! How dare he take advantage of her trust! Her trust! Melime fumed. Should have killed him right there when I first saw him...
She stopped, alarmed at the last thought in her head. Her chest tightened. If she had any tears left to shed, they would have fallen then. How could she have hardened so?
Then another thought occurred to her: what if he had been telling the truth? What if he really did have a message for her father? True, every Elf knew that Legolas must surely be dead, but did the Dwarves?
She glanced down at the letter that was still clenched in her fist. Slowly, carefully, she peeled the note open and was shocked to find that there was indeed writing. Her eyes scanned over the Elvish letters...
My dearest friend,
I am afraid that old age, not to mention all the battles that this Dwarf has endured, has finally caught up with me. However, I am sure that you are still modeling in front of a looking glass. Ha!
While it would be my pleasure to visit you one last time in your home, I fear that I cannot. The purpose of this letter is to summon you here. My last wish is to see you and yours, and talk of old times once more.
The only thing that I must ask is that you hurry. Age does not wait for us mortals, eh? I hope to see you soon. Remember, 40-41. Ha!
With warmest wishes,
Gimli
"Master Dwarf!" Melime shouted at the top of her voice. She ran back through the trees, searching for him. She burst into the clearing that she'd left him standing in and called out again. Suddenly, her sensitive ears picked up the sound of someone muttering to himself.
She sprinted toward the voice and found the young Dwarf sitting on a fallen tree, pondering to himself out loud. She cleared her throat as he had done earlier.
He turned his head. A sheen of tears glistened in his eyes, and Melime was instantly sorry for her outburst earlier. She of all people should know how badly it hurt to know that you were losing your father.
"I'm sorry, Master Dwarf. I shouldn't have been so harsh before. I suppose I still have not recovered from my father's disappearance. I was not thinking clearly. Please forgive me?"
She waited for what he would say- which was nothing. Melime let out a soft sigh to herself and moved to leave. Just as she was about to push her way back into the seclusion of the forest, a voice said, "What is your name, Miss Elf?"
"Melime, only child of Legolas, son of Thranduil. And you?"
"Clulyan."
"Grandson of Gloin, father of Gimli?"
Melime smiled and held out her hand. Clulyan slowly reached out and took it, as though he was afraid to touch her.
"Well, now that we've had a proper introduction, I must confess that I read the letter from your father. And while mine won't ever see this..." She held up the rumpled piece of parchment. "... I am his only next of kin. I handle all of his old duties. So if you can put up with a stubborn and sometimes rude Elf, I'd like to accompany you back to your home."
Was Clulyan hearing this correctly? Did she just propose taking the place of Legolas? The woman that had, just minutes ago, been screaming in his face that if she ever saw him again, she'd kill him?
"I would be honored to have you with me, Lady Melime." Clulyan could see no sign of hostility in her crystalline eyes and, for some reason that he could not explain, trusted her. The glow returned to her face and she released his hand.
She shifted the quiver on her back, pushed back a tree limb that obstructed their path back toward the mountains, and led him toward his homeland.
******************
"Do all Elves move so fast?" Clulyan puffed, trying to keep up with Melime's unbelievable walking speed. He heard her musical laugh in front of him. "It's not that Elves move fast, it's that Dwarves are so slow. Would you like me to slacken my pace to accommodate your little legs?"
"Psh! Little, she says! Slow, she says! I'll have you know, Miss Melime, that dwarves are natural sprinters! Very dangerous over small distances." His comments brought another giggle from her lips.
Over the few hours that they had known each other, Melime and Clulyan had formed a fast relationship that rivaled that only of their fathers'. Their speech began to resemble the conversations that Legolas and Gimli often had.
Melime stopped to wait for him to catch up with her, all the while digging in her pack for the leaf-wrapped packages. When she found one, she broke off a piece of a cream-colored wafer. "Here." She tossed the small morsel to him, and nibbled at the other half of it.
He caught it and studied the food before taking a bite of it. "What is this? It's better than honey-cakes!" He shoved the whole piece into his mouth and even licked the crumbs from his hand. Melime snorted, clamping her hand over her mouth to keep from spitting out hers. "Of course. I would think that you would know that lembas is better than any other waybread."
She wrapped up the half of uneaten lembas and stuffed it back into her pack, and tossed it back over her shoulder. "Ready to keep going?" Clulyan cocked a bushy brow at her as if to ask, 'Are you insane?', but he nodded and continued to trek on behind her.
******************
Okay, how's that? C'mon, I need a little boost here. Open for any criticism...
This chapter moves kind of slow at first, but it will get better, I promise. Also, a BIG thank you to the reviewers for taking the time to write in. Now on we go! Woo-hoo!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Clulyan could only stare at her with all the expression of a goldfish. Daughter? He'd never heard any stories about any child when his father spoke of Legolas.
"Surely you jest..." he murmured. Her eyes blazed then, and Clulyan found himself cowering as she spoke. "Jest? No, Dwarf, I believe that is what you are doing. Everyone knows that no one has seen Legolas in decades. So you can tell whoever sent you that if I ever see you again, I will shoot you between your beady little eyes. I don't need to be troubed by people who have no respect for others. Do you understand me?" Her voice had steadily risen to a shout, while Clulyan had slowly begun to grow smaller in stature.
He mewled out a 'yes'.
Her muscles relaxed a bit, and she quickly retreated back into her forest home. Clulyan was left standing alone and bewildered.
The nerve of that Dwarf! How dare he take advantage of her trust! Her trust! Melime fumed. Should have killed him right there when I first saw him...
She stopped, alarmed at the last thought in her head. Her chest tightened. If she had any tears left to shed, they would have fallen then. How could she have hardened so?
Then another thought occurred to her: what if he had been telling the truth? What if he really did have a message for her father? True, every Elf knew that Legolas must surely be dead, but did the Dwarves?
She glanced down at the letter that was still clenched in her fist. Slowly, carefully, she peeled the note open and was shocked to find that there was indeed writing. Her eyes scanned over the Elvish letters...
My dearest friend,
I am afraid that old age, not to mention all the battles that this Dwarf has endured, has finally caught up with me. However, I am sure that you are still modeling in front of a looking glass. Ha!
While it would be my pleasure to visit you one last time in your home, I fear that I cannot. The purpose of this letter is to summon you here. My last wish is to see you and yours, and talk of old times once more.
The only thing that I must ask is that you hurry. Age does not wait for us mortals, eh? I hope to see you soon. Remember, 40-41. Ha!
With warmest wishes,
Gimli
"Master Dwarf!" Melime shouted at the top of her voice. She ran back through the trees, searching for him. She burst into the clearing that she'd left him standing in and called out again. Suddenly, her sensitive ears picked up the sound of someone muttering to himself.
She sprinted toward the voice and found the young Dwarf sitting on a fallen tree, pondering to himself out loud. She cleared her throat as he had done earlier.
He turned his head. A sheen of tears glistened in his eyes, and Melime was instantly sorry for her outburst earlier. She of all people should know how badly it hurt to know that you were losing your father.
"I'm sorry, Master Dwarf. I shouldn't have been so harsh before. I suppose I still have not recovered from my father's disappearance. I was not thinking clearly. Please forgive me?"
She waited for what he would say- which was nothing. Melime let out a soft sigh to herself and moved to leave. Just as she was about to push her way back into the seclusion of the forest, a voice said, "What is your name, Miss Elf?"
"Melime, only child of Legolas, son of Thranduil. And you?"
"Clulyan."
"Grandson of Gloin, father of Gimli?"
Melime smiled and held out her hand. Clulyan slowly reached out and took it, as though he was afraid to touch her.
"Well, now that we've had a proper introduction, I must confess that I read the letter from your father. And while mine won't ever see this..." She held up the rumpled piece of parchment. "... I am his only next of kin. I handle all of his old duties. So if you can put up with a stubborn and sometimes rude Elf, I'd like to accompany you back to your home."
Was Clulyan hearing this correctly? Did she just propose taking the place of Legolas? The woman that had, just minutes ago, been screaming in his face that if she ever saw him again, she'd kill him?
"I would be honored to have you with me, Lady Melime." Clulyan could see no sign of hostility in her crystalline eyes and, for some reason that he could not explain, trusted her. The glow returned to her face and she released his hand.
She shifted the quiver on her back, pushed back a tree limb that obstructed their path back toward the mountains, and led him toward his homeland.
******************
"Do all Elves move so fast?" Clulyan puffed, trying to keep up with Melime's unbelievable walking speed. He heard her musical laugh in front of him. "It's not that Elves move fast, it's that Dwarves are so slow. Would you like me to slacken my pace to accommodate your little legs?"
"Psh! Little, she says! Slow, she says! I'll have you know, Miss Melime, that dwarves are natural sprinters! Very dangerous over small distances." His comments brought another giggle from her lips.
Over the few hours that they had known each other, Melime and Clulyan had formed a fast relationship that rivaled that only of their fathers'. Their speech began to resemble the conversations that Legolas and Gimli often had.
Melime stopped to wait for him to catch up with her, all the while digging in her pack for the leaf-wrapped packages. When she found one, she broke off a piece of a cream-colored wafer. "Here." She tossed the small morsel to him, and nibbled at the other half of it.
He caught it and studied the food before taking a bite of it. "What is this? It's better than honey-cakes!" He shoved the whole piece into his mouth and even licked the crumbs from his hand. Melime snorted, clamping her hand over her mouth to keep from spitting out hers. "Of course. I would think that you would know that lembas is better than any other waybread."
She wrapped up the half of uneaten lembas and stuffed it back into her pack, and tossed it back over her shoulder. "Ready to keep going?" Clulyan cocked a bushy brow at her as if to ask, 'Are you insane?', but he nodded and continued to trek on behind her.
******************
Okay, how's that? C'mon, I need a little boost here. Open for any criticism...