Hi again. Ok, I don't like to do this, but here goes…
Isoude: I know you mean well, and I appreciate the fact that you like my story, and are kind enough to give your opinion, but if you have read romance novels that are published, then you may come to find that most are pretty slow toward the beginning. Also, when I started the fiction, I read the rating guidelines for fanfiction.net, and it asks that you rate the highest necessary. And as I am planning for slight violence (not necessarily graphic, but I don't usually know what comes out of my head) and a relatively descriptive sex scene, I felt that an R rating would possibly be needed. I would definitely hate for a person that does not like to read about such things to come across my fanfiction and then be appalled when they came to the sexual and violent scenes. That would be unfair to the reader.
I understand that my story isn't totally original. For one, I based it off of Tolkien, requiring that it be under the category of fan fiction, and for two, if you were to count all the people on this great green earth, I'm sure you would find that you would grow very tired before you reached the number. If you were to multiply each one of those people by the millions of thoughts they have each day, let alone their whole lifetime, I'm sure you would find that no idea could be original.
I noticed that you used Disney's Mulan as a reference to unoriginality. I would like to point out that Mulan is no more original than my story. Why, even Tolkien himself has Éowyn masquerade as a man to fight. It has happened in real life, people have written about it, and I'm sorry to say, people will continue to write about it. It is a fact of life that every story has a bit of someone else's thought put into it (Tolkien's use of Beowulf, for example).
Again, I thank you for taking the time to review. ~ Yeuua Summoner
And I appreciate all the others who have reviewed also! Thanks.
Neithawen's Deception
11. Melindin
Neithawen turned in her saddle. Under her, Rochroval moved uneasily. She scanned the surrounding forest from side to side, peering intently from her sharp eyes. She turned to look for Legolas, who had fallen back toward the back of the company to make sure naught was amiss, leaving Neithawen to lead. She saw his elegant grace and fluid movements atop Araroh, his horse. Sighing, she turned forward again.
After a few moments Araroh came cantering up toward the head of the column and regained his place beside Rochroval. She snorted in greeting and tossed her head. "All is well, I presume?" asked Neithawen, turning to Legolas.
"Yes," he said shortly, the word clipped.
Neithawen frowned. "Is something wrong, friend Legolas?"
"Yes," he said again, furrowed brows making deep lines in his perfect forehead. "My sense of foreboding has increased, and I do not like it." Neithawen frowned. She had felt it too, but she also felt a ray of hope. It pierced her heart like a ray of sunshine through a cloud, and made her wonder.
Neithawen turned back to the path ahead of them. In a small clearing, Neithawen's eyes caught something strange. A small hut made of bricks stood alone amongst the shrubbery. Legolas put up a hand suddenly to stop the troupe from continuing. He lithely dismounted from his horse and motioned for Neithawen to follow. They slipped into the brush, and Legolas said, "These people cannot be too bad; my father would have sent a messenger to warn us of them. We shall see for ourselves in any case." He slipped from the bush and approached the hut. Neithawen trailed behind a few steps.
Legolas tapped a slender knuckle on the door. A few moments passed, and Legolas raised his hand as if to rap again, when the door opened slowly. Legolas let his hand fall to his side.
A wizened woman peered through the crack in the door. "More elves?" She made a small snorting sound. "Will the fun never end?" A small smile grew across her withered lips. "Well, who're you?" she asked, staring at Legolas.
He put his hand to his chest. "I am Legolas Thranduilion, of Mirkwood. My father, the king, and his elves are the ones who passed here before." He started to motion toward Neithawen. "And this is my friend—…"
"I think the girl can answer for herself, lad," the woman interrupted. She glanced over at Neithawen kindly. Neithawen's eyes grew, and she breathed in sharply. The woman, very keen, realized right away what was going on. Legolas frowned.
"My good lady, can you not see, Teleadan is male!" Legolas' face was shocked.
The old woman retaliated swiftly. "I'm so sorry, laddie!" she said, moving to Neithawen. "My eyes aren't as good as they once were…old age, you know." She grasped Neithawen's hands and gave her a small wink that only she could see. "Come inside, and you can tell me all about yourselves." She pulled Neithawen inside and held the door back for Legolas. He stood, motionless, in the threshold of the house. "C'mon, son, you're letting all the heat out!"
This seemed to start Legolas into action, and he stuttered, "Ah, I must go and, uh, tell the troupe what is happening. I shall be back soon," and he turned on his heel and left.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The old woman hurried Neithawen inside and shut the door. "I am Melindin. Tell me, Teleadan," she stressed the name bemusedly, "what your real name is, and why you disguise yourself as a man."
Neithawen laughed. "I am called Neithawen, and your eyes certainly aren't failing. Tell me, Lady Melindin, is it really that noticeable?"
Melindin looked her over. "To a man, no. But to me, yes. I've raised my fair share of daughters, and to me, you look nothing like a man."
Neithawen raised her eyebrows. "Well, thank you, I think." Her brows then knitted together. "You do not think that L—any of the others would be able to tell, do you?"
"Are there any women with you?" Melindin asked swiftly.
"None."
"Then you're all right, lass. Now, sit down, have a cup of tea, and stop worrying your pretty head. If that beauty of an elf comes back with you still havin' that expression, even he'll know!" Melindin said, hanging a large black kettle on a hook in the fire.
Just then, there was another knock at the door, and when Melindin called, Legolas slid the door open and entered. His eyes roamed over the small cottage, taking in the homey atmosphere of pots hanging on the wall, thick curtains on the windows, and a fresh vase of flowers on the table.
Neithawen watched as Legolas' eyes fixed on the flowers. She smiled as his countenance turned from confusion to delight. She watched him walk to the table and pluck a single flower from the vase. His slender fingers wrapped around the stem, enclosing it in his grasp. As he brought it to his nose, Neithawen sighed.
"The odor is pungent, yet sweet. I do not believe I have smelled this flower before."
"It is called Simbelmyne, and it comes from the land of Rohan. That flower there in your hand, as a matter of fact."
Legolas looked at her, amazed. "And how is it that they are fresh?" He looked back at the flower, marveling at it.
"Ah now, lad, trying to steal my secrets, are ye? Well, you won't get much out of me, I'm sorry to say." She gave Legolas a wink that would rival the loveliest of maidens', then laughed heartily. "Would you like to say for tea…ah, Legolas, was it?"
Legolas looked up from the flower. "Yes, it is Legolas, and…" his voice trailed off and he glanced over at Neithawen. "I do not believe that we have time for tea. We are quite behind my father, and we need to catch up to him. I am sorry to disappoint you."
"Ah, just as well. I am not used to much company around these parts anyway. I don't remember how to act proper anymore!" Melindin smiled. "Just remember, you are welcome here anytime." A dark shadow passed briefly across her face, but vanished within a second. "Please visit me again, Legolas, and Teleadan," she said, putting undue stress on Teleadan, in Neithawen's opinion. She showed them out of her pleasant cottage and, when Neithawen turned back around, Melindin smiled at her. Neithawen returned the smile and turned back to Legolas. She heard the solid door click shut behind her.
