Part Five

Smiling at grief

I am doomed to silence

I cannot say a word.

Smiling while my heart is breaking,

Laughing while my world is shaking

My dreams collapse around me.

I long to have you for my own,

Yet I must fall alone.

Osellë, 'Alone'

We did not remain at Gondor long. The hobbits were eager to go back to the Shire; they had been worried by Frodo's vision in Galadriel's mirror, where the Shire was seen as a place dominated with factories and slave labour, instead of quiet country life. Anyway, Samwise was in love (it seemed to be some kind of contagious disease, infecting all who drew near it) and was eager to see her. Because it was on the way home, and because it was the place that Aragorn and Arwen had first met, the forest of Lothórien would be the site of the weddings, which would take place under the greenwood trees. Not, very well planned, I might add, seen as I, Arwen and her father had just left Lórien, but it was organized by a man, and a man in love, so what do you expect?

We made the journey on horseback, the summer sun lightening my mood somewhat, although, even lightened my humour was pretty grim – I was days from witnessing the marriage of the prince of my heart to my best friend. The days seemed to drag as we moved slowly towards the deepening shadow of the wood, my heart dying within me as I endeavoured to laugh and joke. I picked Elrohir and Elladan as my companions in the journey, although, more often than not, I had large crowds of mostly males around me whom I endeavoured to amuse. I occasionally shot seductive glances at Legolas, which he frequently noticed, despite his infatuation for the beaming woman who rode at his side. I saw little of Vénea on that long journey, except at night where we shared the same tent; yet often I was too exhausted to speak to her even if I wanted to.

"Osellë," she said on the third night of our journey while I was undressing, "What has come over you? Why are you behaving so enchantingly? Why do you always have large crowds of men around you, hanging on your every word? You are not normally like this; and Legolas keeps looking at you strangely as well, often when I try to talk to him he is miles away." I shrugged my shoulders and pulled my nightdress over my head. In reality, I was myself wondering at my unwonted behaviour but I didn't want to let her know "Why shouldn't I have a little amusement?" I snapped, impatiently "You have Legolas constantly by your side; you are too involved with him to notice me, why cannot I have some diversion as well?" She turned pale at this, her bottom lip trembling slightly at my cruel words. My anger faded and I felt remorseful at my unkindness. I moved towards her and embraced her, letting her tears mingle with mine. "I am sorry for speaking so harshly; you are perfectly right to wish to concentrate on your betrothed, but please let me also celebrate with you – and with others as well. She sniffed and nodded, and we gradually fell asleep, huddled together for companionship, my apology for my actions. She was innocent of doing me wrong, or of the pain I suffered; I would not enlighten her, poor girl, and so spoil the highlight of her life.

However, the merriment of the next day was somehow marred for her by her reception by the Elven lords, especially King Thranduil, Legolas' doting father. His aristocratic, high cheek boned face was especially cold as Vénea and Legolas dismounted and moved up to him "Ada-nîn" Legolas said, embracing him and beaming, despite the worry that I could see in his eyes. "This is my betrothed, Vénea, daughter of Estelle, it was in aiding a pregnant woman and delivering Vénea's mother that I missed the last yen, and sustained capture by the Nazgul lord; my sacrifice was certainly worth it." The father released his son, and smiled as his future daughter who came running towards him from where she had been talking to one of the stable lads, hiding the distaste he felt for such a union. She was almost to him, when she suddenly tripped and fell headlong, to land with a thump at his feet. I suppressed a laugh at her accident, feeling somewhat cruel to be laughing at her. Had I become as insensitive as that, to laugh at my best friend who had probably hurt herself and definitely ruined all chance of her marriage? What king would allow such a clumsy girl to marry his son? Yet my fears were unfounded as the king helped her to her feet. She stared at the ground and stammered an apology in faltering Elvish, which he waved away "Mae govannen, yende nîn." 'Welcome, my daughter' he said, smilingly, too courteous to laugh, although his son, Arwen and Aragorn were doubled up with laughter, and I felt myself succumbing to their mirth. Vénea turned sideways and scowled at her husband to be, which only made him laugh the more. Thranduil smiled again and embraced her, "I apologise for the rudeness of my son, it is terribly ill mannered for him to laugh so at a beautiful young lady who has just had a most unfortunate accident." She stepped forward and kissed him lightly on his smooth, yet careworn cheek, smiling again, "Hanta nin, adar nin, 'thank you my father' I am not normally so clumsy, but I have problems with flowerpots. I will try and be worthy of your son." Legolas guffawed behind her and she turned round, giving a look that should have turned him to ice where he stood, but only made him, and us laugh more. Thranduil led his son and future daughter away while the rest of us were left helplessly dissolved in fits of giggles.

I felt that a weight which had been momentarily lifted from my chest, fall on with redoubled force as the company dispersed. I found myself making my way to my favourite haunt in the Mallorn tree, yet I was followed. I ran up the rope ladder, regardless of my dress, and crouched at the top, trying to stifle my gasping breath; yet my precautions were not enough, as I soon heard light, Elvish, footsteps on the ladder. I saw the top of a dark head, thinking it was Arwen I stepped out of my crouching position to meet her, only to find myself entangled in someone's arms, being kissed passionately on the lips. I at last managed to free myself and to stare, dumbly at my assailant, Elrohir, son of Elrond. "I love you Osellë, I love you. Can you love me?" I surveyed him, aghast – and then I started thinking. He is handsome and influential; he is son of Elrond and brother in law to be of Aragorn, as well as being kind and generous, I could possibly be happy with him.

"No, I cannot love you," I sighed, "My heart is not free to bestow on anyone."

"Why. Who else but me could such an ice-maiden marry?" Elrohir demanded.

"Don't you see? Are you blind to all the events of the past two hundred years? Do you know that since my childhood, I have been passionately in love...?" I paused for a second, seeing the pain and bewilderment in his eyes. With difficulty I controlled my anger and taking his hands in mine, I said, scarcely raising my voice above a whisper "I am sorry, I cannot love you, for I adore Legolas." The true meaning of my words didn't seem to dawn on him as I released his hands and repeated much louder; "I love Prince Legolas!"

He stepped back, as if my words had been some sort of physical blow. My keen Elf ears heard a rustle of leaves from beneath our lofty perch, as I saw a dark shadow disappear down the silver trunk "Shush" I moved quickly, crouching, placing my hand over his mouth before he could speak "There is someone watching us." We crouched there together until I heard the footsteps, light, almost inaudible like those of an Elf, disappear towards the hall. I made to release my grasp on his mouth and stand up but he seized me by the wrists. His grip was vice- like, his face showing great distress and desire. "He is to be married tomorrow. You cannot desire a married man; he plainly does not love you. You should not strive over unobtainable targets, but reach out to what is already in your grasp." He turned my head, somewhat roughly, so I was staring into his fierce eyes. "You cannot marry him, but you can marry me!"

I was beginning to be scared at the sheer power and longing in his tense body. Struggling madly I at last managed to free one hand, striking him across the face. He darted back and looked at me, shocked and surprised. I felt my anger drain out of me at his look of sheer horror. I laughed weakly and muttered "There must be something wrong with this tree, it seems to have brought out the worst in me – I never usually use such physical contact but I have slapped two people in this spot. Please forgive me," I added desperately "You wouldn't let go." He sighed bitterly and turned to leave "I never knew you hated me so much"

"I don't hate you – yet I don't love you, gwador nin. In another age, in another place I could have loved you" subconsciously repeating the words that Legolas' gaze had delivered to me the moment I first knew that he loved Vénea. "But my heart has been captured by another. I cannot stop myself from loving Legolas; no more than I can die of old age – although I often wish I had been dead before this." I felt the tears build up behind my eyelids and I did my best to blink them back, but they fell, unbidden, hot and salty down my cheeks.

Elrohir looked at me, his heart melting, as he wrapped his arms around me and I rested my head on his shoulder, my tears splashing on his tunic "nallo-baw, gwathel nin, nallo-baw, im yelma cin baw; im cin míl – don't cry, my sister, don't cry, I don't hate you, I love you. Yet I will not hurt you, come, be my sister and go in peace – it shall be as if I never spoke." He wiped my tears and left, slowly dismounting the ladder as I stared dumbly at his disappearing head.

I stayed up there until the light began to fade, too drained to move or think – only able to exist in my pain and abandonment. It was pitch-black to all but an Elf, when I at last climbed shakily down the tree, muscles cramped from lack of movement. I made my way lightly to my chamber, the one that I had slept in before, and began to hastily pack my few effects – weeping all the while. I had almost finished when I heard a soft knock at the door. I hastily shoved the bag under the bed and opened the door. There stood Legolas, white and trembling. I suppressed the urge (I do a lot of suppressing urges) to throw my arms around him and kiss him, but instead said brightly "Do come in, you'll have to sit on the bed as there is nowhere else. Now, what is the problem?"

His eyes went misty, as if he was far away, and his voice, muffled as if by distance, seemed a voice from the fog. "I had a dream" He paused as if uncertain how to continue, "I had a dream that has troubled me greatly, so I have come to confide in you."

"Surely you should be speaking to Vénea; after all, she is your betrothed."

"Don't you see? It is about Vénea that I have come. I had a dream, a nightmare, that she was dying – and that my marrying her was the cause of it. I feel that I would only kill her if I made her my wife. Should I relinquish her so as to save her life?" he stopped and stared beseechingly at me.

I thought deeply for a moment. Here was my chance to end that marriage, to make him again free – and when he should need comfort for losing his love, and then I would be there. He would fall in love with the love I bear for him and forget all about her...

"I cannot really advise you on this, but," he stayed still, head bowed, like a man awaiting a death sentence, "But I feel that." I paused again, steeling myself for the pain I would inflict on myself. For the spear I would drive into my own heart... "I feel that you would be more likely to kill Vénea if you didn't marry her than if you did. Death may come in marriage, but it would be less sure and less certain than if you abandoned her."

"So you are saying that I should marry her and disregard my nightmare? I shall make her my wife – thank you" he kissed me through gratitude, his love blind to the pain my sacrifice had caused me. Yet he was not completely blind as he turned to leave, and saw the betraying tears on my cheeks, "Do not be upset, you are still my dear sister and I am most grateful to you..." He tailed off, as if unsure what action that he should take to cause me the least pain. After looking at me solicitously for a while he turned tail and left the room, shutting the door silently behind him. I collapsed on the bed like a broken doll, the strings that had been moving and supporting me cut with the shutting of the door.

I woke up, some hours later, to the sound of a scream reverberating through the room. I willed it to stop – and then I realised that I myself was the cause of that noise. I sat up with a start, to see Vénea rushing in, her face as pale as her nightgown.

"What has happened? Oh, you are fine; I thought you were being murdered!"

"Not that drastic, but I'll give you first notice when I am. No, I had a dream – a nightmare" I sighed, shaking myself awake, feeling a long way away, her face seeming distant.

"Elves rarely have dreams that they are unable to control, yet I have had one, my first – and so has another, and both in the same night. Is their something wrong with me?" I felt so vulnerable, scared. I thought that in my long life I had experienced everything in heaven and earth, yet it seemed that I hadn't. I was asking a mortal for help.

"What was it about?" she asked, sitting beside me on the bed and wrapping her arms around me. I laid my head on her shoulder and whispered, the images rising into my head, a painful memory – clearer to me than the concerned face of Vénea. I shut my eyes and began. "I was walking through the forests of Lórien, a little child lost and scared; only instead of the rich green leaves, the trees were bare, and their once straight trunks were scarred and blackened. I was terrified by the blackness and the smell of acrid smoke, as if the forest had been put to torch – I was completely alone. My dream then switched to my old home, my parents – beautiful and dark haired sitting with me, the bulge in my mothers stomach kicking against my hand, my father beaming down at us, both at me and at his unborn child. I felt contented, happy, yet I had knowledge of a great fear soon to come. I stepped outside and again smelt the acrid sting of smoke. Running back, I went into the open arms of my mother, weeping, as a black wave of Orcs came swept over. They entered our room and dragged my mother outside, my father tried to stop them but he had broken his leg hunting and was unable to move to save her. A swift blade rough the neck finished him off, although he took two with him. I ran out with a knife from the sideboard and tried to hack at legs of those foul beasts, but they held me screaming as my mother was raped by some wild men in the group, before she was stabbed through the stomach, the baby killed, before she was herself stabbed. They hooted at my tears and considered raping me as well but decided against it. Instead they threw me into my mother's dying arms, the cruel, bloodstained blade coming towards my head..." I shuddered as the tears fell afresh, trying to banish my mothers dying eyes, her screams and prayers for my safety from my vision.

"Did this really happen?" Vénea enquired

"Yes, it happened. I saw my parents murdered in front of me; Elladan and Elrohir only saved me from death. They are confirmed Orc hunters, ever since their mother was tortured and killed in a similar way. That event has changed my whole life; has changed my whole character.

Yet why am I telling you this? Why am I troubling you with images from the distant past, long before your great grandparents were even born, let alone yourself, especially on the eve of your wedding?"

"Come, you need to sleep, no I won't leave you, my bed is cold anyway," she whispered reassuringly. I felt myself drift asleep, as she stroked my head and cooed over me, as if I had been a baby. My last thought was of the ludicrousness of the scene, a human girl, scarcely more than a child herself, comforting an Elf many hundreds of years older than her, as if I had been but a tiny human child waking up after a bad dream.

I woke up being vigorously shaken, I moaned and tried to push them off "Its still dark" I groaned, finding Vénea bending over me. "Good, you're awake" She smiled brightly, radiant as the sun, which was conspicuousness in its absence. "Come, I have a bath ready for you in my room, I have just had one, you have been asleep for so long." I groaned, today was the day; my doom had come upon me. I felt like staying forever where I was, but suffered myself to be pulled out of bed and shoved towards her bedroom, where I slipped gratefully into the hot water. I dried myself and pulled on my shift, only to find Vénea similarly attired, and looking worriedly at a rather beautiful, pale green dress hanging from the wardrobe.

"You are going to help me dress," she said.

"Why? I have no skill in such matters, you should ask Arwen to help"

"No – she is busy getting herself dressed. I'll help you if you'll help me."

So I soon found myself helping her into the dress and arranging her dark hair for her, its highlights glinting copper in the candlelight. "Hurry up, the wedding is at dawn," she harried, dragging me to my chamber and seizing my dress from the wardrobe, the green and gold Arwen had chosen. "You look beautiful" she gasped enviously as I admired my reflection in the mirror, fastening the emerald teardrop around my neck, pulling it into place; the neckline was rather low, but no matter. I combed my hair, letting it fall into curls around my face, rather thin and pale now – I was eating rather too little. Vénea seized me by my hand and led me quickly out of the door and along the corridor. The first glimmer of dawn stole over the horizon as we left through the high doorway. Arwen stood outside with Frodo and Sam on both side of her, and a few Elf maidens around her. Elrond came up and took his daughter's hand, while Gimli approached, looking rather embarrassed, and taking her hand. "I'm here to give you away," he muttered gruffly as she laughed a high, ringing laugh, clear as a bell. Just as we were about to leave, Merry and Pippin came running up, "Sorry, we're late, we slept in. Why do the elves have to be so difficult as to be married at dawn?"

Pippin interrupted, excitedly "Us hobbits are ring bearers today – Frodo and Sam got their chance, now it's our turn..." he laughed and he and Merry fell into place behind Arwen, and I behind Vénea as her bridesmaid.

We moved, quicker this time, towards a glade where the babbling music of water was mingled with the sound of harp and singing, welcoming the new brides and the sun, which was just raising its head above the trees. The light glinted on hers and Arwen's dresses, on the silver bark of the trees, and on the golden hair of Legolas, who greeted his bride with a heavenly smile on his beautiful face. Beside him stood Aragorn, his ruggedly handsome face so used to sorrow and pain now wreathed in smiles as he too welcomed his long-awaited bride. Gandalf stood behind them, his white robes blinding, as he joined together the hands of the couples. I shut my eyes as I stepped back, fading out of that picture of bliss into my own dark reality, while the beautiful words of the wedding rolled over me. I opened my eyes to see the symbolic exchanging of rings, and then the kiss. I felt a stab through the heart as Legolas kissed his new wife long and lingeringly. They were now irrevocably married. I was completely alone.

We ate lunch under the spreading Mallorn tree; the two new couples at the head of the table, staring into each other's eyes – totally engrossed with each other. I stared at Legolas, unable to withdraw my gaze as he smiled and laughed and joked with Vénea, or just gazed at her, only once looking my way. I ate little, totally withdrawn form the crowd, the only dejection in such a place of joy – or not the only one; for Elrohir had also a face of sadness.

I studied the assembly intently, there were murmurs of discontent, especially amongst the followers of Thranduil; they did not approve of their prince marrying a mortal. I looked over to Vénea, worried for her safety. These Elves considered her a violation of their culture; it irked them that both the marriages of today had been mixed – between Elves and Men. They would not think twice of ridding Middle Earth of her. I would have to protect her, to withdraw attention from her to distract those murderous thoughts.

With that intention in mind, I began talking to the Elf beside me. He, witty and engrossing, soon attracted a large crowd while I held them, smiling sweetly or glancing seductively over my shoulder. The gathering broke up as lunch was cleared, and we took to milling through the forest. Some went off in groups of twos or threes but the majority stayed where they were, gathered around me. I felt an intent gaze on my back and I turned round, laughing at a joke that one of my entourage had made, it was Legolas. I began flirting with Elrohir, giggling and smiling alluringly, playing wit and desire in a dangerous combination. Oft and anon I glancing over my shoulder at the quiet charade that I was playing with my best friend's husband. I hated myself, hating the treacherous manor in which I was behaving towards her, yet too drunk on this game to stop. I felt relived and also disappointed as she touched him lightly on the arm, and led him away through the trees – she had the real hold upon him.

Time flew past in a way it rarely does for an Elf, and soon it was time for the real festivities to begin.

The table was just about set when Galadriel hurried up to me, her icy dignity scarcely hiding her anxiety. "Where is Legolas? Where is Vénea? The meal is about to start." Aragorn came up from his place by Arwen and nudging me, said. "He is probably up a tree somewhere with his new bride, ah, reinforcing their marriage vows." I would have normally laughed at this, but the events of the day were trying my patience and strength, so I just turned away. "I might as well go and interrupt their intercourse, By the way, I thought you and Arwen would have gone off long ago, you have been waiting a long time as well."

"Ahh, poor Osellë, you feel envious as you have no one to go into the bushes with. Never mind, your turn will come – I see Elrohir here, panting over his soldier to walk with you, will you oblige him?"

I shot a look of cool contempt at the salacious monarch and turned away towards the route to my favourite tree. I aimed to climb it, hoping to see from that vantage point their retreat. With that intention I clamoured up, hindered by my dress, wondering at the weird noises that were issuing from the platform. As I poked my head over the top I found my quarry in rather incriminating circumstances, yet mercifully dressed. I quickly retreated down the ladder until I could no longer see them and called up "I am sorry to interrupt your activity, but you are needed at the glade, the festivities are about to commence." I heard sounds of muffled laughter as I fell down the rest and landed in a heap at the bottom. They came down like children, drunk on love, Legolas' beautiful blond hair rather attractively ruffled and Vénea's dress worse for wear. I smiled saucily at them and began straightening Vénea's dress while thinking how easy it would be to wrap my long fingers around her slender neck. I shuddered with revulsion at my thoughts. Maybe that encounter with Sauron had corrupted me in more ways than one, or maybe this is the way that unrequited love acts on those who do not fade away and die because of it. I had better leave quickly after the revelry before I lost control.

The two of them strolled, hand in hand towards the dell, while I fumed along in their wake, a mere shadow of discontent.

My façade was intact; however when we arrived at the glade, where tables had already been laid and a huge construction, looking more than anything like the town of Minas Tirith, but brown, took pride of place. "What is that?" I said to the woods at large. I was surprised to hear an answer from the mouth of Vénea; "It is my Chocolate cake, delightfully sweet and decidedly unwholesome."

"Yes, but what is it? And what is it doing here?" I stared at the creation; it did look decidedly unwholesome but smelt gorgeous. I noticed Legolas go up, stick a finger gently in one of its massive sides and lick it "Delicious, absolutely delicious," just like you, I muttered under my breath as I followed his example. Vénea slapped me rather roughly on the hand, "Keep off, it's for after the meal. It's my wedding cake, there's a custom amongst my family to make such cakes to celebrate a wedding..." she was interrupted by the call for dinner, where we all made our way to our seats and I resumed my dazzling performance.

After dinner Vénea and Legolas cut the cake, she dolled out pieces to everyone around the table. We were about to eat when Pippin interrupted with the cry "Stop, there is something missing," and the Hobbits hurried off. Elrond smiled amusedly at Galadriel and said "come, we had better wait and see what surprise those Hobbits have for us"

They came back a few minutes later, staggering under the weight of a multitude of large stone jars. "Cider" Pippin stated, plonking one on the table in front of Elrond. "Come try it. We wanted to bring beer, but Gandalf explicitly forbade it." Elrond smilingly sampled some and soon the heavy jars were being passed around the table. It came my way and I raised the rather empty jar to my lips and swallowed a rather large amount, the burning liquor pouring down my throat, producing a rather pleasant tingling sensation. "Whew," I gasped, pouring some into my goblet and passing it on to Pippin "What is in that stuff?"

"Have you never tasted cider?" he enquired incredulously "Oh I forgot, Elves tend to avoid intoxicating liquor, I tried to offer Legolas some alcohol but he strictly declined"

The chocolate and cider were indeed a heady mix, I felt myself gradually relaxing, losing my strict control over myself, giggling and smiling more freely. Soon the tables were cleared and I felt myself being whirled around by Elrohir.

Suddenly I found myself whisked into someone else's arms. I looked up and beheld the face of Legolas, his skin flushed and eyes dancing, obviously feeling the effects of that stimulating combination of cider and chocolate. He spun me around, pressing me closer to his body. I felt so happy, so excited at the closeness of our contact. I opened my mouth, to tell him of my love, all self-control whipped from me in our ecstatic whirl, only to find myself cast back rudely into reality, the slight weight of Vénea on my back. She was pulled up giggling, whisked off by her husband into that intoxicating whirl of music and dancing, while I was left collapsed, dark and forgotten on the ground, discarded like the worn out doll that I was.

It was time for me to go, I was not wanted here by anyone but Elrohir, and I was unable to give him what he desired. I felt a dampener on such a blissful occasion; unneeded and forgotten by all, lying here worthless and overlooked.

I picked myself up and cleared the tables of leftovers to sustain me on my journey. I ran towards my chamber and pulled off my beautiful dress, stroking the gorgeous fabric. Leaving the part of me that was happiness and gaiety behind, I put on instead the sombre hues of solitude and misery.

Gathering up my pack I turned to go, the heirloom of Mirkwood still around my neck. I had received stares and whispers about it, especially from the elves of Mirkwood – wondering how I came to wear it when the heirloom belonged by rights to Vénea, the woman that had ensnared the prince. I now realised my folly, those discontent at their prince's imprudent match had seen me and realised that I loved the Prince. I was an Elf of pure blood that they would consider a much better princess; they would try to supplant Vénea and put me in her place. It was best I should go and so rid Vénea of this danger – Ilúvatur knows I do not wish harm to her.

On an impulse I took the jewel form around my neck, kissed it, my last claim on Legolas relinquished, and laid it gently on the dressing table. I took pen and ink and began writing

Vénea

Don't say that I have abandoned you, it is best for both of us that I should go. Do not try to follow me. I will not be a damper on your marriage bliss – as I would be if I remained.

I must tell you that I love your husband; I have adored him since childhood. I have had too many years of suppressing myself and I feel that I will be soon unable to control my ardour – therefore I leave and bury my love and grief in the West.

Watch those around you, especially those Elves of Thranduil's court; they do not take lightly to such a violation of their tradition.

When you need me, I will come. Call my name in your hour of need and I will be with you as soon as I can. Do not fear that I will not hear you – our fates and that of Legolas are irrecoverably entwined. I will see you again ere you die.

Do not think that I hate you because you have married him whom I love - anyone who sees him cannot but fall in love with him. I do not blame you for it, and you are still "mellon-nin".

Ná Elbereth veria le, ná elenath dín síla erin rád o chuil lín.

May Elbereth protect you, may her stars shine on the path of your life.

Osellë

I left the note on the dressing table with the necklace, and, taking my burden, made my way to the unguarded stables. I saddled a horse and rode of into the night – to carry my weary life to the Undying Lands.