Okay, I've got a new chapter here. Hope you guys like it! I'll get to the Among the Brambles chapter soon, but I've been called off to do some work right now! Later!
LJP: Well, if it's not a Legomance, then is it a Mary Sue? I know you've tried to explain that one to me before, but I can't quite grasp it. Obviously, I've been accused of that this time. I was looking at the chapter from the veiw of someone who doesn't know their history, and it was a bit sappy, which I had been trying to avoid. Oh well. I am glad that what I was trying to get across came across, despite possibly sending new readers scrambling for their toothbrushes.
RiRiana: Well, he does hint at it, and she can sense love from him... of course, he can't let her sense how much he loves her, not just yet.
sarah: Yup, that's about the long and the short of it. She has no recollection whatsoever. I'm not quite clear on what you're asking... the stories will end... and with a conclusion of some sort. As for sleep... I was up at five today to start on this before I have to start working. Got Eulalia's new chapter to Blood Secrets beta-read and e-mailed to her... she wasn't happy when I called her to mention that, though.
Faerlan: Yeah, it's kind of sad to write, making him so tormented, trying to get that across without smaking Lunian upside the head with it. I'm glad you like Lunian's changes. She clearly had to be somewhat different, but enough alike for those who knew her to still know her. Um... the ageing thing is hard to figure out. Even in my head it's not clear. I would guess they age physically far slower than humans, but I don't liek the idea of them beind dependant on their parents for everything for centuries, either. I suppose I kind of think they grow almost normal until they're teenagers, when theire growth slows. They would be sort of eighteen-twenty by their thousandth year... if that confusion helped, I'm glad, but if not... sorry! So, anyway, Salan would have appeared about fourteen or so when they first went into the woods, and he more like sixteen or seventeen. I think. It's been a while since I've watched their ages.
Daphne: Those 'floodgates' aren't going to burst... consider more of a slow trickle... Maybe I shouldn't have said that. Oh well.
dfgdhdrthrth: I sincerely doubt you're going to continue reading this, or that you would recognize your review name if you do, but what is your definition of Mary-Sue?
juvenile delinquent: He dies? In which book? I'm reading the fourth one now to kind of put me to sleep at night (no offense, but reading anything that late makes me sleep), and haven't been recently because I've been getting to bed so late. I take it I'm forgiven? (And I cried writing it. My roommate no doubt thought I was insane... if she noticed, that is.)
Thanks for reviewing also to: Lady Anck-su-namun, Anonymous, plumsy321, IvannethFuin, Laurenke1, LilAznElfLuver, The Hobbit Ivy, lauren, flaming-amber, skinners, Laura, and the person who I think reviewed this chapter either really, really early this morning or late last night which isn't yet showing up on the review page. I appreciate hearing from you guys!
Chapter 3
"Good afternoon, Milady."
"I'm surprised you recognized me," she murmured dryly.
"Why is that?"
She motioned down at herself. "Few seem to."
He took in her leggings and tunic, his eyes brightening with laughter. "And why shouldn't I recognize you, even if you are dressed as a guard of Imladris?"
"Am I?" she asked softly, before shrugging. "Ah, well. Could be worse."
"Mmm?"
"I could have ended up looking like Elladan," she smirked, smiling truly as the warrior beside her laughed. "Tell me, my friend. Why have you come here this morning?"
"I came for something I love," he murmured. As he shifted she noted the bow and quiver on his back. His infamous bow from Galadriel, used on the quest and beyond.
She looked up at him, and then turned her attention back to the archery practice going on. "I've always kind of wished to learn," she admitted, with a depreciating smile.
"Now, what's the point in that?" a new male voice asked.
"Afternoon, Irithil," she murmured, not looking away from the target. "What is the point of any of them learning?"
"To have the skill, Lunian, darling."
She shook her head at him, finally turning. "And I have no such claim? I cannot say I wish to learn merely to learn?"
"Come now," he scoffed. "A she-elf learn weapons for the sake of learning?"
"Why not?" Legolas asked, lifting a brow. "Have you learned?"
"Well, no, I—"
"Then a challenge," Lunian declared before he could say anything else. Her slight interest had been boosted by Irithil's male response and Legolas's defense. "Between us. One quiver of arrows."
Irithil made an uncomfortable face, shifting his weight on his feet. "I… I don't have a bow."
"Ethwan does," she countered, nodding her head in his brother's direction. "I'd be surprised indeed if you have never picked one up."
He sighed. "What of you, then? We can't use the same arrows."
"I suppose not," she mused. "I don't see anyone else using the same size bow. The arrows would be unequal. We shall have to trust Legolas to remember and judge."
"We should not impose upon the prince," Irithil frowned at her, clearly not wanting to involve Legolas.
"It is no imposition," Legolas countered coolly, his eyes narrowed slightly on her friend. "Lunian may use my bow."
She looked up at him in shock. "Surely such a bow would not be safe in the hands of an amateur."
"You will be fine, Lunian," he soothed softly.
Irithil had called Ethwan over by then, and his amused laugh had brought more attention to the challenge until there was a waiting circle of elves gathered around the two amateurs. Ethwan began instructing Irithil on the basics, correcting him as he took up a poor stance, giving him new direction after every shot. "Well," Iritil finally murmured, looking at the two arrows in the target. "Your turn."
She sighed, biting her lip. Her impulsiveness had apparently gotten her into trouble again. She would have been fine if she had merely asked to learn… but instead she challenges Irithil, and most of the elves at the training field were now waiting for her to fail miserably. Great boost to her courage, it was. A tense sigh escaped her.
"At ease, Milady," a soft voice murmured from right over her shoulder. He steadied her when she jumped, large hands closing lightly over her shoulders. "Close your eyes, Lunian."
"But—"
"Close them," he insisted gently, releasing her. "Feel the bow in your hand, get used to the weight. Picture the target—its distance, height, size."
"But my eyes are shut," she muttered scowling.
"Yes," he murmured, a slight smile coming through the tone, "but you know all of that. Picture it. Align yourself to it."
Slowly she found herself moving, a mental image becoming clearer. She nodded once.
"Now, fire."
In a fluid move she drew an arrow, notched it, and released it.
"Do not open your eyes," he instructed sharply when she would have done just that. "Fire again." He remained silent as she went through the moves. "Again."
After that he didn't say anything, and she emptied the quiver. "May I open my eyes now?" she asked, having found no more arrows on her last check.
"Yes," he agreed softly.
She looked first to him in annoyance for his odd instruction, but on her way to look at the target she found everyone who had been watching staring in that direction in utter shock. The disturbing thought of having shot someone ripped her head around. Her jaw dropped. Slowly she took a step forward, unable to believe the arrows were all in the target. And fairly well grouped, too. She let out the breath she hadn't known she was holding, and looked at Irithil's target. It was closer… and his two arrows were posed their crookedly, one wavering with every pulse of the breeze.
A hand on her shoulder made her jump. She turned to see Legolas. He smiled gently at her. "You did well," he murmured, before passing her to retrieve his arrows.
"Lunian, darling… I think you won." Irithil shook his head ruefully. "I can't even claim it's the bows—your target was farther and your eyes were closed. How in the world…"
"I have no idea," she shook her head. "Legolas? How did you do that?"
"I did nothing," he countered, fingering his bow. "You knew what to do."
"But…" she sighed, and finally shook her head, giving up on finding any explanation—reasonable or not.
He smiled slightly, lightly brushing a bit of her hair back behind her ear. Then he turned and began his own archery practice. Slowly the group returned to their own activities, except for her. She walked with Legolas when he retrieved his arrows, watched him as he went through the motions with perfectly practiced fluidity. Looking at some of the others, they now looked both slow and jerky compared to him. Only when compared to him, though. Otherwise they were, of course, full of perfectly elven grace.
She grit her teeth. Sometimes, that grace annoyed her… because she had less of it than everyone else. Her human blood…
With a sigh, she turned her attention back to Legolas, wondering not for the first time at the odd magic he seemed to possess over her. Just being near him, gazing upon him, was calming to her, and had been as far back as she could remember.
"Care to try again?" he asked, obviously having felt her study. He turned to see her as he waited for her answer, his thumb arching slowly on the silver wood of his bow, capturing her attention.
"I… yes," she admitted. "As long as I can keep my eyes open," she grumbled when she again had the quiver upon her back and the worn smooth wood in her hands.
"If you wish," he agreed, chuckling softly.
"Well?" she asked after a long moment of silence.
"Well what? My instruction would not change."
She sighed and turned herself appropriately to the target, then reached for an arrow, finding it much harder to notch and draw this time around. Her arrow didn't even nick the target. "Why is it easier with my eyes closed?"
He sighed into her ear, having moved so he was nearly molded to her back. Feeling his heat practically against every inch of her was rather disconcerting. "You were born knowing this, Lunian. All you need to do is forget what you're doing. Let the familiarity of the motion consume your actions. Fire."
At the word she did everything needed to have her arrow proudly in the target's heard within instants. She looked at it in some surprise. "If I don't think about it…" she murmured cautiously, "then how could I ever improve?"
"Merely accepting this is all you need to do, Milady. You have all the basics already."
"But how?" she asked.
He didn't say anything, finally pointing to a branch a ways beyond and above the target. "See the last leaf on that bough?"
"Of course," she grumbled. Her eyes at least, were fully elven… even if odd…
"Knock it off."
"What? There's no way I can even begin to—"
"Stop thinking, little one. Do it."
She sighed, mentally picturing the leaf. Finally she went through the motions that seemed so oddly familiar, pausing after releasing the arrow, watching it race to the leaf… nicking it off the branch cleanly, petiole attached as it fluttered to the ground.
"Teaching our little one to shoot, Legolas?"
Legolas turned with a smile. "She knows how already, Elrohir."
"Though how that is, I have no idea," she muttered, frowning still at the leafless branch. With a final shake of her head she handed Legolas his things, walking off to collect his arrows. "How long are you staying?" she asked suddenly after putting the wayward arrows back in his quiver.
"I have no plans of returning at the moment, Milady," he murmured softly.
"Oh," she grimaced. "Then no doubt you'll be here for the coming of age celebration," she grumbled.
"I was informed of it, yes."
"And invited no doubt. With every other lord or lady Grandfather can cram under a rood."
"Actually, I believe the celebration is to be something of a private affair, is it not, Elrohir?"
"Yes… seeing as Ethwan's celebration is the night before. No one thought you would mind having your parties linked. He certainly wouldn't mind the extra attention, and as it will be hard to keep you there, anyway…" He smiled at her, his grey eyes warm with love and amusement. "It shall be informal, with no more than a dozen present."
Her eyes widened as she thought about that. Her grandparents, great-grandparents, parents, uncle… and her? "Family only?"
"And Legolas," Elrohir bowed his head slightly in agreement.
"The who isn't coming? Me?"
He frowned. "Father, Mother, Elladan, Grandmother, Grandfather, her father, her grandparents… hmm… okay, so there shall be thirteen. You may invite Nallina as well, if you wish."
"Not Carathwan?"
"Not this time, though she shall be there the night before, of course."
"Oh, of course," she agreed knowing she was missing something. "I hate it when things go over my head."
Legolas smiled faintly, but his eyes were ever darkly enigmatic. "I believe I shall wander the gardens, if you will excuse me."
"Hmm? Oh. Mind if I tag along?" She wanted to think, and no one ever interrupted her time with Legolas, and he always knew when she didn't feel like talking.
"Of course not, Milady," he agreed, leading her through the gardens as she struggled to pull all the loose and confusing ends dangling tantalizingly in front of her together. After a time she noted her steps were no longer on grass or padded ground, but stone. She blinked and looked around, finding herself just walking into a chamber… She flushed and turned to leave, only to be blocked by Legolas. "I merely thought now might be a good time to give you this," he explained, holding something out to her.
She looked at him in surprise, but took the bundle. Unwrapping it carefully, she laughed in surprise and amazement when she found a bow and quiver. "Legolas!"
He shrugged slightly. "I thought it might interest you."
She traced her finger along the silver scrolling on the bow, then studied the quiver, looking to him in surprise. "This is from Mirkwood… when it was Mirkwood."
He inclined his head slightly. "Yes. You have been studying Elrond's books, haven't you?"
"Yes," she agreed, still studying the bow. "You brought this with you?"
"Yes. One of very few things, really."
"Well, you did have your bow as well…"
"Yes. The quiver I sent with Nallina, but I carried both bows with me what time I spent on Middle-Earth after the elves of Fangorn left."
"You didn't go with them?" she asked, frowning.
"No. For many years I wandered the lands I had not before, and revisited the ones I had."
"Just to see what there was?"
"No," he countered softly, "to decide if I wished to live."
Her eyes flew to his, and found him watching the bow as if it were a living, breathing thing that could speak, his eyes dark with pain she couldn't comprehend, and wasn't sure she wanted to. "Is it the pain you try to hide which makes you wish for death?"
"It was. I no longer desire to die."
"Yet the pain remains," she frowned, unconsciously reaching up. When her fingers touched his skin she jerked back, shocked by the pain she received. She could not begin to imagine such anguish. "And is strong."
"So is my hope for the future… though it wanes at times." He touched her cheek lightly, before tilting his head up, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. "Go, little one. Find the peace my pain has upset."
She looked up at him with pain of her own. "You send me away to spare me, yet will say nothing so that I may alleviate that which torments you. You have always been there for me, yet you do not trust me to do the same. I am not so flighty and inconsistent as all that, Prince of Eryn Lasgalen, with or without human blood."
He sighed and drew her gently into a tender embrace. "I know my l…lady. But you have only a matter of weeks before you are cast into the adult world. I would have you enjoy the time that remains, rather than puzzle over things that can only cause pain for now."
"Will you tell me someday?"
"We shall see, Milady," he murmured softly, kissing her cheek as he drew back. "Now go, little one."