My Darling Lillian
Chapter 3.
To Rivendell
An eleven year old Lillian sat on a dresser at the foot of a bed, reading a book.
"Lillian..." A commanding, yet quiet, voice called.
"Yes, Boris?" Lillian had long ago stopped calling him 'uncle'.
"Lillian, your father, and my sister's husband, told me to care for you." Boris was ill, and was dieing.
"Yes, I know." She replied, not looking up from the book.
"And, since I have no other immediate family, you are my sole beneficiary."
"I know, and still...I do not love you as neither my family; nor a human person, if human you may be rightly called."
Boris chuckled. "Nor do I." Then his face became grave. "You always were strong." He reminded her, "And if you possibly can, remain that way, for without family you will need all the strength you can get." Lillian nodded. Never had she looked up from the narrative that she held in her hands. And without a word, 'Uncle' Boris slipped from Lillian's life.
It was still raining, and the going was tough and muddy. The gloomy circumstances pressed down upon the company like a wet blanket.
Suddenly Hallaampion began to hum, softly at first, then more loudly as Dûrmelion and Phercrabanion began humming with him.
Legolas smiled and then, recognizing the tune, began humming with them.
Then suddenly, but not surprisingly, they began to sing:
'Past the towns, beyond the inns,
After this world that is Elf, and Men's
There is a land that few have seen,
And even less have truly been.'
There was more to the song, but it was long and quite a bit was in other race's idioms, and other parts seemed to be two, or even three, songs woven together into the same one.
Lillian smiled, she wished her father could see this.
"How long until we get to...wherever we're going?" Lillian asked, taking her eyes from her path for a moment, which had a muddy consequence.
Gandalf laughed. "We should arrive by midday in a fortnight." He announced, helping her up.
"I suppose I'll have to either chose to keep my mind on the road, or my head in the mud." Lillian laughed.
Her laugh was soft and sweet, and fell lightly like snow falls lightly upon the grass, but disappeared just a quickly.
She suddenly seemed to realize she had laughed, and fell back into her sullen silence.
Dûrmelion tried to rouse another laugh by expanding on the joke, but all he received was a pair of muddied trousers, and a few snickers from the dwarfs.
"I think we may stop here for the night." Gandalf announced as they came upon a turn in the road.
After a fire had been made, and the Dwarfs had begun to make a meal, Legolas then began conversing with Phercrabanion and Dûrmelion in their native toung; while Gimly listened in, as Legolas had taught him the Elf speech many years ago.
Lillian sat up straight and listened a moment.
This idiom was soft and smooth, unlike any she had ever before heard!
"Legolas," Lillian called.
"Yes?" He replied warily.
"Teach me."
Legolas was taken aback.
"Teach you?"
"That language you were speaking." Lillian replied, leaning forwards almost to the edge of the fire that stood between her and Legolas.
"Perhaps," Legolas said, actually meaning 'No. And Gandalf was a fool to bring you.'
"I heard that." Gandalf chided.
"My mind is my own." Legolas murmured.
Gandalf frowned disapprovingly, but remained silent.
Lillian's eyes flashed mischievously, she had a plan.
"I think," She began, "that Prince Legolas is," she paused again for impact.
"Afraid of me." Her eyes watched Legolas from a corner.
Legolas stood more quickly than any one of the Dwarfs had thought possible.
Was she, this woman, this mortal, attempting to make him seem unworthy in the presence of the company?
"Afraid of a mortal Woman." She turned and walked away, as though to retrieve a book.
"You are a mortal." Legolas reminded her, switching his game mode to match hers. "And as an Elf, and one by far your superior, I will teach you the language of the Elven." He enunciated the last words slowly.
Lillian smiled as a cover-up, as though that was what she had wanted.
Legolas walked towards a tree which in he planed to take refuge. 'It was still foolish to bring her.' He thought bitterly.
Gandalf sighed. The prince was not usually so headstrong.
Lillian proved a fast student, and learned quickly, but Legolas still thought her proud and arrogant. The feeling was mutual, as was demonstrated one day while Legolas was teaching her:
"How would you know if someone was speaking about you?" Lillian had asked, jotting down notes in a notebook.
"Simple, if they were speaking of you, then you would hear the word 'Morwen' said frequently." Legolas said briskly.
Dûrmelion, Phercrabanion, and Gimly began laughing.
Lillian's eyes narrowed.
"Gandalf," Lillian called, "What does 'Morwen' mean?"
Gandalf began chuckling. "It means 'Daughter of the dark'"
Lillian sent Legolas a glance that would have made an orc reconcile as she called Dûrmelion over and held a quick whispered conversation with him.
"OK, Tiuka Uo Harni" She commented as she walked by Legolas.
'Fat dog king?' Gimly, accompanied by the younger Elves, burst out in a hearty laugh, while the other three dwarfs looked about bewilderedly.
Legolas resented having taught Lillian a word of Elfish, but still the next day he taught her again.
Upon a fortnight, round three hours after sunset, they arrived in Rivendell, where Aragorn and Arwen were visiting.
They would have arrived sooner, but the dwarfs (except Gimly) had slowed their pace, not overly anxious to meet Elves.
"Ah! Nothing like a quick rest at home to renew the tired soul, before heading out to unknown dangers. Eh, Phercrabanion?" Dûrmelion laughed.
Lillian sighed contentedly, she was doing what she'd always wanted to do! Live an adventure!
Each member of the company was shown to their respective rooms.
Lillian plunked down on the bed, sleep nearly overtaking her, when she heard a knock on the door that led to her porch.
As she rose, Lillian noted how the air here seemed rich and luxurious with smells of flowers unseen, or smelt, upon Earth.
Lillian drew the curtains apart, then saw Greenwood's prince looking out over the land to the horizon, his Elfish eyes seeing what her dull mortal eyes could not.
The vague wind tossed his hair playfully about, but Legolas' eyes did not leave the horizon. There was something in the wind...was it...?...Could it be...? Yes, it was the sea. Legolas breathed it in. Though he may not have shown it, the grief of an immortal life, and the wish for a mortal one was tugging at his heart. Surely the sea was the cure to his longing, the remedy for the deep void within himself. Or was it? "Legolas?" Lillian asked, hesitant to break the stillness of the moment. "Yes, Lillian?" Legolas asked, turning to her. "Why did you call me out?" Legolas' eyes, which just a moment had been soft and sad, suddenly became hard. "I do not wish for you to continue this journey." Lillian frowned. "I'm still going." "Lillian," Legolas cautioned. "Why shouldn't I go?" "You may get injured." "Why would you care?" "Because I am concerned." "What?" "I care about you." "Say that again." "I care for you!" Lillian smiled triumphantly, though her eyes conveyed something deeper than simply pleasure at winning an argument. Legolas smiled in return, and closed a bit of the space between them. Lillian, as well, took a step forwards. Their lips were only inches apart, the stars seemed to be only shining for them... There was a knock at the door. Lillian jumped, then smiled wryly. "I'll get that." She quickly closed the curtains and went to get the door. It was a young Elf maid, who announced that there would be a feast the next day, and that a dress was being made for her if she had none other to wear. Lillian thanked her, and said that she would attend. Closing the door, Lillian went back out to the porch. "Lillian." Legolas greeted her. "Legolas...I'm still going." Lillian regretted saying it almost as soon as the words had sprung from her mouth. Legolas stared at her a moment, as though he wasn't sure that she had actually said it. "You are impossible." He then muttered as he sprung back to his room by leaping from porch to porch until he had reached his room. "Ugh!" Lillian moaned as soon as the prince had entered what was his room. "Why did I ruin it?" she asked herself as she dropped down on the bed, "Why do I always ruin everything?" 'Well,' she consoled herself as she rolled over and drifted off into a dream, 'I'm still going, Legolas was at fault, and that's that.'
Chapter 3.
To Rivendell
An eleven year old Lillian sat on a dresser at the foot of a bed, reading a book.
"Lillian..." A commanding, yet quiet, voice called.
"Yes, Boris?" Lillian had long ago stopped calling him 'uncle'.
"Lillian, your father, and my sister's husband, told me to care for you." Boris was ill, and was dieing.
"Yes, I know." She replied, not looking up from the book.
"And, since I have no other immediate family, you are my sole beneficiary."
"I know, and still...I do not love you as neither my family; nor a human person, if human you may be rightly called."
Boris chuckled. "Nor do I." Then his face became grave. "You always were strong." He reminded her, "And if you possibly can, remain that way, for without family you will need all the strength you can get." Lillian nodded. Never had she looked up from the narrative that she held in her hands. And without a word, 'Uncle' Boris slipped from Lillian's life.
It was still raining, and the going was tough and muddy. The gloomy circumstances pressed down upon the company like a wet blanket.
Suddenly Hallaampion began to hum, softly at first, then more loudly as Dûrmelion and Phercrabanion began humming with him.
Legolas smiled and then, recognizing the tune, began humming with them.
Then suddenly, but not surprisingly, they began to sing:
'Past the towns, beyond the inns,
After this world that is Elf, and Men's
There is a land that few have seen,
And even less have truly been.'
There was more to the song, but it was long and quite a bit was in other race's idioms, and other parts seemed to be two, or even three, songs woven together into the same one.
Lillian smiled, she wished her father could see this.
"How long until we get to...wherever we're going?" Lillian asked, taking her eyes from her path for a moment, which had a muddy consequence.
Gandalf laughed. "We should arrive by midday in a fortnight." He announced, helping her up.
"I suppose I'll have to either chose to keep my mind on the road, or my head in the mud." Lillian laughed.
Her laugh was soft and sweet, and fell lightly like snow falls lightly upon the grass, but disappeared just a quickly.
She suddenly seemed to realize she had laughed, and fell back into her sullen silence.
Dûrmelion tried to rouse another laugh by expanding on the joke, but all he received was a pair of muddied trousers, and a few snickers from the dwarfs.
"I think we may stop here for the night." Gandalf announced as they came upon a turn in the road.
After a fire had been made, and the Dwarfs had begun to make a meal, Legolas then began conversing with Phercrabanion and Dûrmelion in their native toung; while Gimly listened in, as Legolas had taught him the Elf speech many years ago.
Lillian sat up straight and listened a moment.
This idiom was soft and smooth, unlike any she had ever before heard!
"Legolas," Lillian called.
"Yes?" He replied warily.
"Teach me."
Legolas was taken aback.
"Teach you?"
"That language you were speaking." Lillian replied, leaning forwards almost to the edge of the fire that stood between her and Legolas.
"Perhaps," Legolas said, actually meaning 'No. And Gandalf was a fool to bring you.'
"I heard that." Gandalf chided.
"My mind is my own." Legolas murmured.
Gandalf frowned disapprovingly, but remained silent.
Lillian's eyes flashed mischievously, she had a plan.
"I think," She began, "that Prince Legolas is," she paused again for impact.
"Afraid of me." Her eyes watched Legolas from a corner.
Legolas stood more quickly than any one of the Dwarfs had thought possible.
Was she, this woman, this mortal, attempting to make him seem unworthy in the presence of the company?
"Afraid of a mortal Woman." She turned and walked away, as though to retrieve a book.
"You are a mortal." Legolas reminded her, switching his game mode to match hers. "And as an Elf, and one by far your superior, I will teach you the language of the Elven." He enunciated the last words slowly.
Lillian smiled as a cover-up, as though that was what she had wanted.
Legolas walked towards a tree which in he planed to take refuge. 'It was still foolish to bring her.' He thought bitterly.
Gandalf sighed. The prince was not usually so headstrong.
Lillian proved a fast student, and learned quickly, but Legolas still thought her proud and arrogant. The feeling was mutual, as was demonstrated one day while Legolas was teaching her:
"How would you know if someone was speaking about you?" Lillian had asked, jotting down notes in a notebook.
"Simple, if they were speaking of you, then you would hear the word 'Morwen' said frequently." Legolas said briskly.
Dûrmelion, Phercrabanion, and Gimly began laughing.
Lillian's eyes narrowed.
"Gandalf," Lillian called, "What does 'Morwen' mean?"
Gandalf began chuckling. "It means 'Daughter of the dark'"
Lillian sent Legolas a glance that would have made an orc reconcile as she called Dûrmelion over and held a quick whispered conversation with him.
"OK, Tiuka Uo Harni" She commented as she walked by Legolas.
'Fat dog king?' Gimly, accompanied by the younger Elves, burst out in a hearty laugh, while the other three dwarfs looked about bewilderedly.
Legolas resented having taught Lillian a word of Elfish, but still the next day he taught her again.
Upon a fortnight, round three hours after sunset, they arrived in Rivendell, where Aragorn and Arwen were visiting.
They would have arrived sooner, but the dwarfs (except Gimly) had slowed their pace, not overly anxious to meet Elves.
"Ah! Nothing like a quick rest at home to renew the tired soul, before heading out to unknown dangers. Eh, Phercrabanion?" Dûrmelion laughed.
Lillian sighed contentedly, she was doing what she'd always wanted to do! Live an adventure!
Each member of the company was shown to their respective rooms.
Lillian plunked down on the bed, sleep nearly overtaking her, when she heard a knock on the door that led to her porch.
As she rose, Lillian noted how the air here seemed rich and luxurious with smells of flowers unseen, or smelt, upon Earth.
Lillian drew the curtains apart, then saw Greenwood's prince looking out over the land to the horizon, his Elfish eyes seeing what her dull mortal eyes could not.
The vague wind tossed his hair playfully about, but Legolas' eyes did not leave the horizon. There was something in the wind...was it...?...Could it be...? Yes, it was the sea. Legolas breathed it in. Though he may not have shown it, the grief of an immortal life, and the wish for a mortal one was tugging at his heart. Surely the sea was the cure to his longing, the remedy for the deep void within himself. Or was it? "Legolas?" Lillian asked, hesitant to break the stillness of the moment. "Yes, Lillian?" Legolas asked, turning to her. "Why did you call me out?" Legolas' eyes, which just a moment had been soft and sad, suddenly became hard. "I do not wish for you to continue this journey." Lillian frowned. "I'm still going." "Lillian," Legolas cautioned. "Why shouldn't I go?" "You may get injured." "Why would you care?" "Because I am concerned." "What?" "I care about you." "Say that again." "I care for you!" Lillian smiled triumphantly, though her eyes conveyed something deeper than simply pleasure at winning an argument. Legolas smiled in return, and closed a bit of the space between them. Lillian, as well, took a step forwards. Their lips were only inches apart, the stars seemed to be only shining for them... There was a knock at the door. Lillian jumped, then smiled wryly. "I'll get that." She quickly closed the curtains and went to get the door. It was a young Elf maid, who announced that there would be a feast the next day, and that a dress was being made for her if she had none other to wear. Lillian thanked her, and said that she would attend. Closing the door, Lillian went back out to the porch. "Lillian." Legolas greeted her. "Legolas...I'm still going." Lillian regretted saying it almost as soon as the words had sprung from her mouth. Legolas stared at her a moment, as though he wasn't sure that she had actually said it. "You are impossible." He then muttered as he sprung back to his room by leaping from porch to porch until he had reached his room. "Ugh!" Lillian moaned as soon as the prince had entered what was his room. "Why did I ruin it?" she asked herself as she dropped down on the bed, "Why do I always ruin everything?" 'Well,' she consoled herself as she rolled over and drifted off into a dream, 'I'm still going, Legolas was at fault, and that's that.'