Morning dawned bright and early, the late night storm clouds chased away by
the soft breeze. The sun's warm rays flooded into the room, and the song of
the birds could be heard. Anarrima opened her eyes. Soon she was reminded
of where she was actually was, feeling the warm, firm embrace that Legolas
still gave her. It amazed her how safe she felt in his arms; all her fears
and troubles seemed to melt away when he was around. Not wanting it to end
just yet she wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her head on his
chest. She took a deep breath, taking in his scent. He smelled like the
forest after a summer rain.
"How was your night?" A soft voice questioned, she felt a hand softly stroke her head. Ana looked up to see Legolas smiling brightly at her.
"Well, seeing as how I'm not that found of thunderstorms at all," she began, "but then again being here with you," she smiled back, "wonderful. I don't ever want to leave."
"Nor do I wish to let you," he said with a sigh, "but we knew this day would come, and long has it awaited you. Your destiny is at hand."
Anarrima felt the pain bite bitterly at her chest. He was right. She was meant to do this. Reluctantly she released her hold on Legolas and slid out of the bed, her soft gown flowing after her. Slowly she walked to the window and gazed out at the scene of the Palace courtyard. It seemed all the elves were in a rush, no doubt preparing for her ceremony.
"I have feared this day for so long. For all of those of my kin who have come before me, for all their wrongdoings, now I am to redeem them. How am I to do this alone?" She questioned to the morning air. The wind played with her hair as her eyes became misty. Curse her weakness! It always seemed to get the best of her at the worst of times.
Legolas climbed out of the bed and made his way to Anarrima. He hated seeing her this way. Her will was of the strongest he had ever known, on some occasions more so than his. It pained him to see her shatter like this, like a fragile jewel.
Anarrima felt a gentle hand comfort her with a small squeeze of her shoulder and then join her at the window.
"Ana, do you remember the stories my father used to tell us? About Fingon the Valiant and his battle with Gothmog the dragon?"
Anarrima nodded and rested her head on the windowsill. "Yes, but what does that have to do with me?"
"Fingon was given a chance to change the world, just as you have. He did not choose to linger where his life would he wasted and wane for eternity in regret. He left his fear behind and did what he had to do. Ana, you have this same choice to make."
The choices ran through her mind over and over again. The Dunedain were the bravest who walked the lands of Middle earth. Was she worthy enough to bear the name of a Ranger? Would she ever be accepted?
"I am not capable of such glory," Anarrima whispered to the wind.
"Not capable? Is that what you believe?" Legolas stared at her in disbelief. It amazed him how stubborn this girl could be. How could she so openly deny herself?
"Ana, If I believed for even one second that you are not capable of being amongst the most honorable and most skilled warriors in these lands," his eyes softened a bit when her troubled haze met his, " I would not be standing here beside you asking that you so this. I believe in you."
At his last words it felt as if the weight of the world was lifted off of her. She was capable of becoming a Ranger. She could change the world. Anarrima smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck.
"I am going to change the world!" she said as he held her.
Legolas welcomed her embrace with a smile of his own. He had seen in her the personal victory. Her decision was made. "I know you will, mellon."
Anarrima pulled away to look into his shining eyes and smiled again. "Legolas, thank you."
"Thank you for what?"
"Being here for me."
He smiled his boyish little grin. "I will always be here for you."
A small knock came at the door and Legolas gave them permission to enter. One of the Palace maidens entered.
"Good morning Prince," she smiled and bowed.
"Good morning Makaila," Legolas smiled with his greeting.
"Lady Anarrima, there is someone here who wishes to see you," Makaila stepped from the doorway. A tall, dark-haired elf entered. He was dressed in fine clothing and his silver eyes shined in the sunlight. He looked much in the liked of Elrond Half-lives of Milagros.
Anarrima looked on in disbelief and shock. "Father?"
"How was your night?" A soft voice questioned, she felt a hand softly stroke her head. Ana looked up to see Legolas smiling brightly at her.
"Well, seeing as how I'm not that found of thunderstorms at all," she began, "but then again being here with you," she smiled back, "wonderful. I don't ever want to leave."
"Nor do I wish to let you," he said with a sigh, "but we knew this day would come, and long has it awaited you. Your destiny is at hand."
Anarrima felt the pain bite bitterly at her chest. He was right. She was meant to do this. Reluctantly she released her hold on Legolas and slid out of the bed, her soft gown flowing after her. Slowly she walked to the window and gazed out at the scene of the Palace courtyard. It seemed all the elves were in a rush, no doubt preparing for her ceremony.
"I have feared this day for so long. For all of those of my kin who have come before me, for all their wrongdoings, now I am to redeem them. How am I to do this alone?" She questioned to the morning air. The wind played with her hair as her eyes became misty. Curse her weakness! It always seemed to get the best of her at the worst of times.
Legolas climbed out of the bed and made his way to Anarrima. He hated seeing her this way. Her will was of the strongest he had ever known, on some occasions more so than his. It pained him to see her shatter like this, like a fragile jewel.
Anarrima felt a gentle hand comfort her with a small squeeze of her shoulder and then join her at the window.
"Ana, do you remember the stories my father used to tell us? About Fingon the Valiant and his battle with Gothmog the dragon?"
Anarrima nodded and rested her head on the windowsill. "Yes, but what does that have to do with me?"
"Fingon was given a chance to change the world, just as you have. He did not choose to linger where his life would he wasted and wane for eternity in regret. He left his fear behind and did what he had to do. Ana, you have this same choice to make."
The choices ran through her mind over and over again. The Dunedain were the bravest who walked the lands of Middle earth. Was she worthy enough to bear the name of a Ranger? Would she ever be accepted?
"I am not capable of such glory," Anarrima whispered to the wind.
"Not capable? Is that what you believe?" Legolas stared at her in disbelief. It amazed him how stubborn this girl could be. How could she so openly deny herself?
"Ana, If I believed for even one second that you are not capable of being amongst the most honorable and most skilled warriors in these lands," his eyes softened a bit when her troubled haze met his, " I would not be standing here beside you asking that you so this. I believe in you."
At his last words it felt as if the weight of the world was lifted off of her. She was capable of becoming a Ranger. She could change the world. Anarrima smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck.
"I am going to change the world!" she said as he held her.
Legolas welcomed her embrace with a smile of his own. He had seen in her the personal victory. Her decision was made. "I know you will, mellon."
Anarrima pulled away to look into his shining eyes and smiled again. "Legolas, thank you."
"Thank you for what?"
"Being here for me."
He smiled his boyish little grin. "I will always be here for you."
A small knock came at the door and Legolas gave them permission to enter. One of the Palace maidens entered.
"Good morning Prince," she smiled and bowed.
"Good morning Makaila," Legolas smiled with his greeting.
"Lady Anarrima, there is someone here who wishes to see you," Makaila stepped from the doorway. A tall, dark-haired elf entered. He was dressed in fine clothing and his silver eyes shined in the sunlight. He looked much in the liked of Elrond Half-lives of Milagros.
Anarrima looked on in disbelief and shock. "Father?"
