Hey there readers! Me again! I hope you're not mad at me any more!
Heh...Heh...well, any ways, I'd like to respond to a few reviews. Anrai, you
are one of two people I've ever heard use the term pervertness instead of
pervertedness, and I thought it was neat that you used it. Also, he will
not stay a love-sick puppy (sounds more like my fave hanyou), does kick
a# I agree, and I got the necklace from, yes you guessed it, myself (my
parents really did think me insane too). And in response to
YueMichiruNaragisawaMiko, he isn't a teenager in the least, though he may
act it in my stories (uh, hello, naive 3000 year old elf is the equivalent
of a teenager anyways) and- I don't know about the rest of you people out
there, but- I thought only females could be in heat! You –you –you Legolas
insulter! (besides, that also sounds a lot like Inu and Kag-chan. Can you
tell I'm a little obsessed? Chah! Darn you Naro, and your corrupting ways!)
So...on with the story!
Disclaimer: (Legolas takes deep breath before singing) 'Welcome to Paco's tacos, And have a lot of fun! Welcome to Paco's tacos, And have some carne asada and wet burritos!'
Kchan: er...Legolas...that wasn't the disclaimer.
Legolas: (blushes crimson) oh...right...kchan doesn't own me or lotr. (runs off screen)
Kchan: (shakes head and laughs) he's been hanging around Naro too much... silly elf!
The two continued on into the wood, until eventually they came upon the Galadrim. Leslee was impressed by the structures that even Tolkien had been unable to do justice. They were met by a younger elf, who was not yet one thousand years old. He led them to a clearing, the one in fact that the fellowship had stayed in during their time in the golden forest. Leslee was so tired from walking (not to mention the day's earlier excitements) that she fell straight to sleep the moment her head hit the pillow of the bed she was given. Legolas, who had a much higher endurance rate, wasn't so tired, so he watched her sleep for a few minutes.
He thought about everything that had happened the last few days. He remembered seeing her for the first time, his sense of duty so strong then. He had seen her trying to quietly run, as if to avoid someone's eye. He waited for her to get right in front of him as she ran past, but had not really expected her to turn her back to him at the same moment he let loose his arrow. He was mildly surprised that he had struck her from behind, but at that point he hadn't cared. His father had threatened to disown him, if he did not kill this girl, and Legolas didn't know what he would do if he were not allowed back within the borders of his home.
He remembered the strangled gasp that had escaped her lips before she fell. It was as if she'd always known what deathly pain was, and the arrow had simply caught her by surprise, rather than the pain. He was still confused at this, yet he was afraid to ask her. He knew that in order to be familiar with pain, one had to have a painful past. When he first realized this, he hadn't cared, for this was simply his job, and he had to harden himself against feelings and passion for other life forms if he was to stay in favor of his father. Since that time, he had lost his barrier, his wall between himself and compassion. He didn't know what did it. Perhaps it was the tears in her eyes when he shook her, even though he was still pretending to be cold towards her after that.
But what had made her live? He had checked the body, and sure enough, no breath, no pulse, not even a twitch of movement from the collapsed form. But the heat, the heat had not gone away. She never grew cold; Death had never come to claim her spirit, and it was still stubbornly residing in her corpse. So he waited. And waited. And waited, until three days had passed. Finally, he realized that she had started breathing again, and she stirred when her when he went to find her pulse. When she opened her eyes to look at him, he cursed, and it surprised him even now, the look in her eyes as she winced at his choice word. Her confusion radiated from her, just as heat had radiated from that curious wound of hers on her shoulder. It wrenched his heart, remembering how lost she'd seemed.
But now his mind was exhausted of thinking, though his questions were still swirling in his head. He too was confused, but he could hide it better than Menla could. Menla...he looked down at her peaceful form. He didn't know what had made him love her. Perhaps it was guilt, or pity. No, he could have hardened himself beyond that. It was something else.
Her passion. That was it. Her passion and defiance. She was not afraid of him, even after she knew who he was. Death did not scare her as it had scared him at her age, so many years ago. She had greeted her fate with arms wide open, not even giving a backward glance. She was so sure of herself, that she needn't be sure of anything else. She had argued with him, something only his father had ever done, really, except for that time on Amon Hen when he and Estel had argued about whether or not to leave, but Menla was different. He almost enjoyed arguing with her. She always had a point, unlike his father, or even Estel. She made him think, not just yell out random insults, though it did come down to that at one point, if his memory served him. But she continued to make a point the whole way through.
He had finally put most of his questions to rest, so he lay down beside her. He put his hands behind his head as he stared into the golden canopy above them. He had taken to resting like this when he was tired, though he rarely ever truly slept any more. He dreamed, yes, but for and elf, that meant that your mind hadn't relaxed yet, and of late, his mind never rested, only his body was graced with such relief. But today, he finally felt his mind slip, dipping into a precious void. He slept for the fist time in a century...
There you have it! It was kind of a really long flash back, but I hope his train of thought didn't confuse you (mine'll do that to people some times) but yeah. I tried not to make him out to be the lovesick puppy, and, I am proud to say, that even though he still has the pervertness that is quite common in all male species, the kiss did not enter his elven mind, and thus did not seem like a "teenager in heat." Happy now? I hope that that explained a few things, and I'm sorry that I keep going back and forth between Menla and Leslee, but when it's more from her view, I use Leslee cause that's what she calls herself, and when it's more from Legolas' P.O.V. I like to use Menla, because that's what he calls her. Also, for those of you who aren't familiar with the book and cheated by only seeing the movies, Estel, Aragorn, and Elessar are all the same person. I like having Legolas use Estel, because it shows that they were friends before Aragorn even turned twenty, so it kind of gives them a history together before the fellowship. So yeah, Ta!
Disclaimer: (Legolas takes deep breath before singing) 'Welcome to Paco's tacos, And have a lot of fun! Welcome to Paco's tacos, And have some carne asada and wet burritos!'
Kchan: er...Legolas...that wasn't the disclaimer.
Legolas: (blushes crimson) oh...right...kchan doesn't own me or lotr. (runs off screen)
Kchan: (shakes head and laughs) he's been hanging around Naro too much... silly elf!
The two continued on into the wood, until eventually they came upon the Galadrim. Leslee was impressed by the structures that even Tolkien had been unable to do justice. They were met by a younger elf, who was not yet one thousand years old. He led them to a clearing, the one in fact that the fellowship had stayed in during their time in the golden forest. Leslee was so tired from walking (not to mention the day's earlier excitements) that she fell straight to sleep the moment her head hit the pillow of the bed she was given. Legolas, who had a much higher endurance rate, wasn't so tired, so he watched her sleep for a few minutes.
He thought about everything that had happened the last few days. He remembered seeing her for the first time, his sense of duty so strong then. He had seen her trying to quietly run, as if to avoid someone's eye. He waited for her to get right in front of him as she ran past, but had not really expected her to turn her back to him at the same moment he let loose his arrow. He was mildly surprised that he had struck her from behind, but at that point he hadn't cared. His father had threatened to disown him, if he did not kill this girl, and Legolas didn't know what he would do if he were not allowed back within the borders of his home.
He remembered the strangled gasp that had escaped her lips before she fell. It was as if she'd always known what deathly pain was, and the arrow had simply caught her by surprise, rather than the pain. He was still confused at this, yet he was afraid to ask her. He knew that in order to be familiar with pain, one had to have a painful past. When he first realized this, he hadn't cared, for this was simply his job, and he had to harden himself against feelings and passion for other life forms if he was to stay in favor of his father. Since that time, he had lost his barrier, his wall between himself and compassion. He didn't know what did it. Perhaps it was the tears in her eyes when he shook her, even though he was still pretending to be cold towards her after that.
But what had made her live? He had checked the body, and sure enough, no breath, no pulse, not even a twitch of movement from the collapsed form. But the heat, the heat had not gone away. She never grew cold; Death had never come to claim her spirit, and it was still stubbornly residing in her corpse. So he waited. And waited. And waited, until three days had passed. Finally, he realized that she had started breathing again, and she stirred when her when he went to find her pulse. When she opened her eyes to look at him, he cursed, and it surprised him even now, the look in her eyes as she winced at his choice word. Her confusion radiated from her, just as heat had radiated from that curious wound of hers on her shoulder. It wrenched his heart, remembering how lost she'd seemed.
But now his mind was exhausted of thinking, though his questions were still swirling in his head. He too was confused, but he could hide it better than Menla could. Menla...he looked down at her peaceful form. He didn't know what had made him love her. Perhaps it was guilt, or pity. No, he could have hardened himself beyond that. It was something else.
Her passion. That was it. Her passion and defiance. She was not afraid of him, even after she knew who he was. Death did not scare her as it had scared him at her age, so many years ago. She had greeted her fate with arms wide open, not even giving a backward glance. She was so sure of herself, that she needn't be sure of anything else. She had argued with him, something only his father had ever done, really, except for that time on Amon Hen when he and Estel had argued about whether or not to leave, but Menla was different. He almost enjoyed arguing with her. She always had a point, unlike his father, or even Estel. She made him think, not just yell out random insults, though it did come down to that at one point, if his memory served him. But she continued to make a point the whole way through.
He had finally put most of his questions to rest, so he lay down beside her. He put his hands behind his head as he stared into the golden canopy above them. He had taken to resting like this when he was tired, though he rarely ever truly slept any more. He dreamed, yes, but for and elf, that meant that your mind hadn't relaxed yet, and of late, his mind never rested, only his body was graced with such relief. But today, he finally felt his mind slip, dipping into a precious void. He slept for the fist time in a century...
There you have it! It was kind of a really long flash back, but I hope his train of thought didn't confuse you (mine'll do that to people some times) but yeah. I tried not to make him out to be the lovesick puppy, and, I am proud to say, that even though he still has the pervertness that is quite common in all male species, the kiss did not enter his elven mind, and thus did not seem like a "teenager in heat." Happy now? I hope that that explained a few things, and I'm sorry that I keep going back and forth between Menla and Leslee, but when it's more from her view, I use Leslee cause that's what she calls herself, and when it's more from Legolas' P.O.V. I like to use Menla, because that's what he calls her. Also, for those of you who aren't familiar with the book and cheated by only seeing the movies, Estel, Aragorn, and Elessar are all the same person. I like having Legolas use Estel, because it shows that they were friends before Aragorn even turned twenty, so it kind of gives them a history together before the fellowship. So yeah, Ta!