To all of you who reviewed, thank you SO much! Also, here's the fluff you
requested...
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -
As morning broke over Rivendell it found Legolas standing broodingly on a balcony outside of his sleeping quarters. In his room the bed was unused, for the prince had had too much on his mind to rest that night.
Golden sunlight flooded over him as he stood there, bathing him in warmth and awakening every fiber of his being. He had closed his eyes in meditation, but every sense was attuned to the world around him, extremely aware of every sound, movement, and sentient being. Life reverberated through him, invigorating a sense of unity within.
It was the least comfort he could get to soothe his troubled mind. Though it was not in his nature not worry, he was deeply concerned for his people and for every race in general. Sauron had woven a nettled plan, and Legolas knew that Middle Earth had only just seen the beginning of it. The thought rankled him.
"Good morning to you, Legolas," said someone in a rich, melodic tone. Legolas opened his eyes.
He knew that voice.
"Lady Arwen," he acknowledged as he turned to her. She smiled, in her graceful, delicate way, and Legolas felt strangely comforted by it.
"I thought I would find you here," Arwen said. "This balcony is a most appealing place to be alone with your thoughts."
"Indeed it is," agreed Legolas. "I had almost forgotten how beautiful Rivendell is on mornings such as these or indeed at any time." A strange expression crossed his features as if he implied that Rivendell wasn't the only beautiful thing on his mind, and Arwen blinked her velvety eyes at him and blushed.
"When the morning comes, there is no place more radiant than here," she commented softly. There was a slight pause, and Legolas turned his head for another brief sweep of the panorama beyond the marble balcony where he stood.
"As beautiful as it is, I feel I'd much rather be in Mirkwood," he said, an edge rising in his voice. "I do not wish to put off my duty by wasting away here, waiting for my father's decision."
Concern grew in Arwen's eyes. She came slowly toward her cousin and laid a gentle hand on his arm.
"I know of your impatience," she told him seriously, "and I do not deny your urgence to return and defend your home from what evils that have spread therein; but your father and mine will be better to decide what actions there are to be taken." Legolas glanced back at her and she searched his eyes with her own.
"They are wise and have seen much. Their decisions will always lie with the interests of our kind at heart," she told him.
Instinctively, Legolas reached over and grasped the hand on his arm.
"I know this," he said vehemently. "My haste to battle is my greater fault."
Arwen looked at him seriously.
"I do not think it is a fault," she replied, "but a gift. Where others delay, you do not. Many would see that as courage."
They stared at each other, one endeavoring to comfort, and the other in need of it. Unexpectedly, Legolas felt a surge of emotion well up inside him and he was hard pressed not to lean forward and kiss Arwen right then.
"Perhaps it were best that you should take your mind away from these weighty matters, just for a while," Arwen suggested, returning Legolas' mind to the conversation, "and come take a walk with me."
Legolas pondered the invitation for a moment, but only to be respectful lest he answer to hastily and seem anxious in Arwen's mind.
"I would be honored," he said. "Where shall we walk?"
"Down to the stream; it is lovely there."
"Like everything in Rivendell," Legolas reflected.
* * *
The stream ran through a small gorge between two sides of the forest. Huge trees rose up on either bank, their roots curling down to meet the water's edge. Thick patches of white and yellow flowers flanked the walls of the gorge and seemed to light the forest with their brilliance. As it flowed, the stream gurgled and bubbled, rolling over stones and tree roots in it's path.
"Rivendell is much more alive – more bright – than Mirkwood," Legolas commented as he helped Arwen over a difficult pass between two rocks.
"And so you must enjoy this light, Mellonamin," she laughed gaily, "It is this brilliance that makes me alive."
A stone bridge made a little arch over the stream and Arwen went over to it. She walked to the middle and turned her gaze downstream where the water ebbed and turned South.
Legolas watched her and his throat tightened. It seemed impossible for one person to be so lovely. Though it had only been one evening since he and Arwen had talked together as friends, he had felt his affection for her multiply by hundreds since.
Arwen was still looking off into the distance with a dreamy look on her face.
"When I lived in Lothlorien," she began quietly, "I saw great beauty there – it resided in everything. It is said that the magic of Lorien is unequalled, and for a time I believed it...until I returned here." She glanced at Legolas with a small smile curving her lips.
"And now you think differently," he finished her thought.
Arwen nodded slightly.
"Yes, she replied. "Rivendell holds more happiness for me than any other place."
Something seemed to catch her mid-thought so she only watched the prince with mysterious eyes as if she were measuring him up. At a similar loss for words was Legolas himself.
Their gazes met.
Without stopping to think, Legolas walked slowly onto the bridge. The moment was pulling him, calling to him, and he felt he had to answer that call. Carefully he reached up and touched Arwen's cheek even more gently than he had the night before, and to his delight she did not draw away.
What is this magic, thought Legolas as he searched her face for a sign. She only stared up at him wordlessly, her heart quivering within her in nervous expectation.
Slowly, as if in a dream, Legolas bent his head forward and gently touched his lips to hers. Arwen responded tentatively to the kiss that her mouth yearned for, hesitant in a bewilderment of conflicting impulses. She reached over to clasp Legolas' hand as she parted her lips a little to him.
"Arwen!" The call broke through the silence and Arwen turned her head hurriedly in the direction it had come from.
"It's Arillen," she breathed regretfully, looking back at Legolas with apprehension in her eyes. There was a feeling of obvious disappointment between them. The dream that had been the kiss was broken with Arillen's call. Neither one spoke as they stood together on the bridge holding each other's hands as the last tie to the moment they had shared.
Arillen came through the trees over the side of the gorge.
"I thought you would be here. . . oh," she stopped speaking at the sight of her friend and Legolas. Arwen dropped Legolas' hand abruptly.
"Good morning Arillen," she said, as cheerfully as she dared. Legolas made a small bow in Arillen's direction
"I feel that I should leave," he confided quietly, turning back to Arwen who nodded in agreement. Apologizing with his eyes, Legolas turned and left, brushing past a stunned Arillen as he went.
Arillen stared inquizzitively back at Arwen.
"Dare I ask?" she inquired as she approached her friend.
Arwen flushed scarlet.
"We talked together," she said meekly.
"Of course..but – "
"Do not question me, Arillen," she interrupted sharply as she laid a white hand on her forehead with a worried frown.
Arillen bit her lip.
"You love him."
"I told you not to question me!"
It was so unlike Arwen's gentle nature to be anything remotely snappish that Arillen had a strong desire to flee whence she had come. Something had clearly happened to put the exceedingly serene daughter of Elrond into such an unnaturally irritable state. A strong suspicion lurked in the back of Arillen's thoughts but she brushed it hastily aside.
"I am sorry, Arwen," she said. "I did not mean to cause offense." Arwen looked up after a moment and tried to smile.
"And I did not mean to be cross with you," she replied regretfully. "I too am sorry." She took Arillen's hand.
"I know the sight of me with the prince might have caused a little shock," Arwen excused airily, "But to answer your question I will say only that I do not know if I love him or not. It is too strong a word, and we do not know each other well enough, perhaps."
"But you like him, at least a little," Arillen said.
"Please, Arillen; we are just friends."
Arillen squeezed her friends' hand to show that there was no harm intended in her question, but somehow Arwen's words did not strike true to her mind.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -
As morning broke over Rivendell it found Legolas standing broodingly on a balcony outside of his sleeping quarters. In his room the bed was unused, for the prince had had too much on his mind to rest that night.
Golden sunlight flooded over him as he stood there, bathing him in warmth and awakening every fiber of his being. He had closed his eyes in meditation, but every sense was attuned to the world around him, extremely aware of every sound, movement, and sentient being. Life reverberated through him, invigorating a sense of unity within.
It was the least comfort he could get to soothe his troubled mind. Though it was not in his nature not worry, he was deeply concerned for his people and for every race in general. Sauron had woven a nettled plan, and Legolas knew that Middle Earth had only just seen the beginning of it. The thought rankled him.
"Good morning to you, Legolas," said someone in a rich, melodic tone. Legolas opened his eyes.
He knew that voice.
"Lady Arwen," he acknowledged as he turned to her. She smiled, in her graceful, delicate way, and Legolas felt strangely comforted by it.
"I thought I would find you here," Arwen said. "This balcony is a most appealing place to be alone with your thoughts."
"Indeed it is," agreed Legolas. "I had almost forgotten how beautiful Rivendell is on mornings such as these or indeed at any time." A strange expression crossed his features as if he implied that Rivendell wasn't the only beautiful thing on his mind, and Arwen blinked her velvety eyes at him and blushed.
"When the morning comes, there is no place more radiant than here," she commented softly. There was a slight pause, and Legolas turned his head for another brief sweep of the panorama beyond the marble balcony where he stood.
"As beautiful as it is, I feel I'd much rather be in Mirkwood," he said, an edge rising in his voice. "I do not wish to put off my duty by wasting away here, waiting for my father's decision."
Concern grew in Arwen's eyes. She came slowly toward her cousin and laid a gentle hand on his arm.
"I know of your impatience," she told him seriously, "and I do not deny your urgence to return and defend your home from what evils that have spread therein; but your father and mine will be better to decide what actions there are to be taken." Legolas glanced back at her and she searched his eyes with her own.
"They are wise and have seen much. Their decisions will always lie with the interests of our kind at heart," she told him.
Instinctively, Legolas reached over and grasped the hand on his arm.
"I know this," he said vehemently. "My haste to battle is my greater fault."
Arwen looked at him seriously.
"I do not think it is a fault," she replied, "but a gift. Where others delay, you do not. Many would see that as courage."
They stared at each other, one endeavoring to comfort, and the other in need of it. Unexpectedly, Legolas felt a surge of emotion well up inside him and he was hard pressed not to lean forward and kiss Arwen right then.
"Perhaps it were best that you should take your mind away from these weighty matters, just for a while," Arwen suggested, returning Legolas' mind to the conversation, "and come take a walk with me."
Legolas pondered the invitation for a moment, but only to be respectful lest he answer to hastily and seem anxious in Arwen's mind.
"I would be honored," he said. "Where shall we walk?"
"Down to the stream; it is lovely there."
"Like everything in Rivendell," Legolas reflected.
* * *
The stream ran through a small gorge between two sides of the forest. Huge trees rose up on either bank, their roots curling down to meet the water's edge. Thick patches of white and yellow flowers flanked the walls of the gorge and seemed to light the forest with their brilliance. As it flowed, the stream gurgled and bubbled, rolling over stones and tree roots in it's path.
"Rivendell is much more alive – more bright – than Mirkwood," Legolas commented as he helped Arwen over a difficult pass between two rocks.
"And so you must enjoy this light, Mellonamin," she laughed gaily, "It is this brilliance that makes me alive."
A stone bridge made a little arch over the stream and Arwen went over to it. She walked to the middle and turned her gaze downstream where the water ebbed and turned South.
Legolas watched her and his throat tightened. It seemed impossible for one person to be so lovely. Though it had only been one evening since he and Arwen had talked together as friends, he had felt his affection for her multiply by hundreds since.
Arwen was still looking off into the distance with a dreamy look on her face.
"When I lived in Lothlorien," she began quietly, "I saw great beauty there – it resided in everything. It is said that the magic of Lorien is unequalled, and for a time I believed it...until I returned here." She glanced at Legolas with a small smile curving her lips.
"And now you think differently," he finished her thought.
Arwen nodded slightly.
"Yes, she replied. "Rivendell holds more happiness for me than any other place."
Something seemed to catch her mid-thought so she only watched the prince with mysterious eyes as if she were measuring him up. At a similar loss for words was Legolas himself.
Their gazes met.
Without stopping to think, Legolas walked slowly onto the bridge. The moment was pulling him, calling to him, and he felt he had to answer that call. Carefully he reached up and touched Arwen's cheek even more gently than he had the night before, and to his delight she did not draw away.
What is this magic, thought Legolas as he searched her face for a sign. She only stared up at him wordlessly, her heart quivering within her in nervous expectation.
Slowly, as if in a dream, Legolas bent his head forward and gently touched his lips to hers. Arwen responded tentatively to the kiss that her mouth yearned for, hesitant in a bewilderment of conflicting impulses. She reached over to clasp Legolas' hand as she parted her lips a little to him.
"Arwen!" The call broke through the silence and Arwen turned her head hurriedly in the direction it had come from.
"It's Arillen," she breathed regretfully, looking back at Legolas with apprehension in her eyes. There was a feeling of obvious disappointment between them. The dream that had been the kiss was broken with Arillen's call. Neither one spoke as they stood together on the bridge holding each other's hands as the last tie to the moment they had shared.
Arillen came through the trees over the side of the gorge.
"I thought you would be here. . . oh," she stopped speaking at the sight of her friend and Legolas. Arwen dropped Legolas' hand abruptly.
"Good morning Arillen," she said, as cheerfully as she dared. Legolas made a small bow in Arillen's direction
"I feel that I should leave," he confided quietly, turning back to Arwen who nodded in agreement. Apologizing with his eyes, Legolas turned and left, brushing past a stunned Arillen as he went.
Arillen stared inquizzitively back at Arwen.
"Dare I ask?" she inquired as she approached her friend.
Arwen flushed scarlet.
"We talked together," she said meekly.
"Of course..but – "
"Do not question me, Arillen," she interrupted sharply as she laid a white hand on her forehead with a worried frown.
Arillen bit her lip.
"You love him."
"I told you not to question me!"
It was so unlike Arwen's gentle nature to be anything remotely snappish that Arillen had a strong desire to flee whence she had come. Something had clearly happened to put the exceedingly serene daughter of Elrond into such an unnaturally irritable state. A strong suspicion lurked in the back of Arillen's thoughts but she brushed it hastily aside.
"I am sorry, Arwen," she said. "I did not mean to cause offense." Arwen looked up after a moment and tried to smile.
"And I did not mean to be cross with you," she replied regretfully. "I too am sorry." She took Arillen's hand.
"I know the sight of me with the prince might have caused a little shock," Arwen excused airily, "But to answer your question I will say only that I do not know if I love him or not. It is too strong a word, and we do not know each other well enough, perhaps."
"But you like him, at least a little," Arillen said.
"Please, Arillen; we are just friends."
Arillen squeezed her friends' hand to show that there was no harm intended in her question, but somehow Arwen's words did not strike true to her mind.