A.N. This is the chapter we've been leading up to for the entire tournament (which was, incidentally, invented as an excuse to throw the celebration at the end of this chapter.) Hope you enjoy it, and sorry about the kiss thing in the other chapter -- really had you going there for a moment, didn't we? Don't worry, the kiss (if there is one….) is coming soon (We are fully aware that we've said that a million times before and still haven't delivered.)
IMPORTANT! : You may have noticed our little interludes at various points during the past few chapters where we needed to get another character's perspective. If it is in first person, it will always be Legolas (unless we say otherwise, although I can't see that happening any time soon), but if it's in third person, just sort of work out who it's supposed to be. It's not that hard really…
Chapter Dedicated to: Arcamenel, our 200th reviewer.
The man of the month is: Hugh Jackman (no speculations on the fandom of our next fic, then…)
"…No I can't forget this evening
Or your face as you were leaving
But I guess that's just the way
The story goes
You always smile but in your eyes
Your sorrow shows
Yes it shows
No I can't forget tomorrow
When I think of all my sorrow
When I had you there
But then I let you go
And now it's only fair
That I should let you know
What you should know…"
Mariah Carey(Shudder) ~ Without you
Chapter 28: Truth
"…a dagger fight." I said for the hundredth time that day, my voice deadpan. "Typical. They want a tie-breaker, so they chose the one thing the Prince excels at!"
"Don't worry, my dear. Legolas hasn't got time to train -- I've had Tengaar deal with him." Firowen assured me as we walked to the training grounds, the twins in tow.
"I can't believe they won't just give me my trophy and leave it at that! Seriously." I fumed. Dusk was fast approaching, and I wanted to get in a few hours practice before I was forced to retire. The wielding of White Knives were something the Prince had worked at his entire life. The only time I had bothered with them was when they were the only weapons to hand. True, I was still fairly deadly with them, but I could be fairly deadly with a dishcloth if the occasion called for it. And that wouldn't be enough to beat the crown Prince, whom was already the favourite to win.
"And that's why we're going to help you get up to scratch." He said, almost as if he could read my thoughts.
"Don't worry about Legolas." Celoril started.
"He's not that good, really." Nólad finished for him.
"What exactly did you get Tengaar to…um…do…" I asked precariously.
"Just take him on a ride or something. I told her to figure something out, as it was all towards a good cause." Firowen answered.
"Helping me win?"
"Well yes, but I didn't tell her that in so many words…"
"Never mind. As long as I remember a couple of basic moves I'll be fine. I'm very good at improvising on the spot."
"Good, because frankly Legolas is crap. He needs to remember the moves in order to do anything. Hopefully by tomorrow he'll still be cocky enough to think he remembers the first thing about daggers. Even though he hasn't had any good practice since, oh, I'd say at least a month now."
"A month? That's nothing!"
"Yes, well, there's not much we can do about anything at the moment besides help you out, so try to ignore the congregation of your very own fans, and give us your best shot." He said, flinging open the doors to the outdoor training grounds, where there were, indeed, a great number of spectators assembled.
The next few hours passed rather too quickly for my liking. First, I went one on one with Firowen, whom was actually rather good, for all of his false modesty. He corrected me on my posture, and when I snapped at him, said that I was far, far worse when I was teaching someone. When he deemed me good enough, Celoril joined in, and finally Nólad. A few had dispersed from the crowd by the time the sun had set, but many remained until we finally left to seek rest, and I probably the only one not looking forward to it, but still a lot more confident about the next day.
~*~
I awoke in a cold sweat. The same dream again. The same screaming, bright lights, buildings crashing to the ground. I knew not why they continued to haunt me, nor why I could do nothing to banish them. But I continued to ignore them in the hopes they would disperse by themselves. Arnor's golden rays filtered through the curtains as the day was born anew. Only a few hours left before I was to face the Prince in the arena just so I could run off with my well-earned trophy. And tonight saw the culmination of all my hard work, as the forfeit would be carried out on either of our parts. Obviously, I had no intention of wearing that yellow monstrosity to the celebration, and I had not come this far to not watch the Prince humiliated. So it was a rather sadistic thing to make him do. Why not? He deserved to be taken down a notch or six.
Perhaps after that I could leave this place. I had stayed far too long for mine, or anyone else's liking, I suspected. Thranduil didn't trust me, and it was doubtful he wanted me to hang around as I depleted his darling daughter of her innocence. No, I had outstayed my welcome. I know that I would get sick of me pretty quickly, and the only thing that could be gathered from my friends' indifference was that they were far too polite to tell me so. I would say my goodbyes soon, perhaps a few days afterwards. It wasn't just that I felt I needed to see how Fangorn fared against the invading force, but also because every moment I spent here tangled my web of emotions further. They were so kind, so accepting, so forgiving. It was disconcerting to say the least. The only one who showed me any kind of normal behaviour was the King himself. Oh, he despised me. I could see it when he looked at me, and I stared right back. I was disrespectful, crude, and a threat. Probably because I didn't bow to him. But why should I? I owed him no allegiance. Of course, I was thankful for him letting me stay so long, but he never asked me to, and he'd rather I left anyway. He was a King, but not my King. Very few held my respect, and he was not one of them.
I contemplated a great many things as I pulled my clothes on, fastened my hair in two long braids that dangled freely to the small of my back, and headed towards the practice courts to prepare myself for the day's activities.
~*~
I yawned widely and loudly, forgetting my audience for a moment. "'Scuse me." I mumbled half-heartedly. There was a round of appalled sighs from the supporters of the Prince amongst the crowd. Standing about five metres directly opposite me was my opponent, pacing slowly up and down his end of the arena. "Nervous, Legolas?" I inquired smugly. He stared at me for a brief moment before rolling his eyes and once again continuing the monumental job of trying to ignore me. "You know, you really shouldn't be." He stopped. "I'm going to win anyway…so what's the worst thing you can do?" I chuckled as he shook his head, the ghost of a smile on his face. After ten minutes of waiting around there was still no sign of the King, without whom, for who knows what reason, we couldn't start the match. Unable to stop myself from fidgeting, I began to weigh up the two slim silver daggers in my hands. Absentmindedly, I pitched one up in the air, catching the handle as it spun back down. I shrugged, grinning as a pathetically showy way to remedy my mindless boredom crossed my mind.
Within moments I had the daggers flickering through the air, one a fraction of a second behind the other. It wasn't testing, just a way to keep my mind occupied whilst the delay continued, much to the amusement of the crowd. This was just one of the many things I thought it might be useful to know, and had taught myself when I had a spare month here and there. That happened a lot for some strange reason…
"Lady Yuna!" Came the high pitched cry of one of the many spectators. "Catch this!"
Out of the mass of bodies, a small wooden object came speeding towards me and with luck I managed to catch it, keeping my rhythm with the two airborne daggers. It was instantly joined in the somewhat monotonous sequence of throwing and catching, and before long was but one of many objects the crowd tossed my way. A chant arose throughout the mass of spectators as every few rotations a new item was added to the fray, increasing the difficulty each time.
"Yuna…?" It was the Prince."
"Uh huh?"
"What are you doing?"
"Juggling." I replied simply.
"Yes, I can see that. You do realise we have a deciding match to begin, don't you?"
"Not until that father of yours shows up." I passed one under my leg to the obvious amazement of the crowd. "Seeing as he still isn't here, and I frankly have nothing better to do, I'm just going to carry on if you don't mind. Why don't you go off and humour that group of twitterers in the front row. Since you walked in they haven't taken their eyes off your--"
"Yuna." He said, a little more urgently this time.
"Yep?"
"My father's behind you." I jumped round, hearing the crash of about nine objects colliding with the ground as I faced the King, adopting the classic 'I wasn't doing anything. What? I don't know how they got there…' position of hands behind back and innocent look on face.
"Mornin', your Majesty." I coughed. For such a large amount of space, the silence seemed unholy.
"Lady Yunalesca." He greeted with all the warmth of a glacier. His iciness was slightly hampered by the fact that Narin stood on his left grinning frantically and waving a hand in some kind of greeting. "If you are quite finished with your…display."
"Of course, your Majesty." I had a way of making certain titles such as 'majesty,' 'lord' and 'grace' sound as degrading as if I had the nerve to use their real name. But of course, as we all knew, Legolas didn't count. 'Prince' wasn't a real title anyway. Apart from maybe the Princedoms of Gondor. Anyone else was just their father's son.
"Then I believe it is best if we begin, don't you?"
"Certainly, your…ahem, Majesty." He gave me a tight smile before he and his entourage swept over to the royal box. Bending down, I picked up the two discarded daggers from the pile that was rapidly being removed from the playing field. I squeezed the handles lightly, regaining my grip as out of the corner of my eye I spotted the referee entering the stadium. He walked in to the centre of the arena and beckoned Legolas and I to join him. Simultaneously we paced to where he stood waiting. I couldn't help beaming at the Prince's overly stern expression. He looked up, staring at me as if I was a maniac whilst I simply winked at him, feeling my nerves bristle.
"As always, the rules are simple." The referee, who seemed slightly young for the position, started. "First blood drawn wins the match. Remember, no deep cuts, I'm sure neither of you have a desire for the other to bleed to death, and even if you do, try and keep it to arms and legs. There are no illegal moves, but do try and keep it a fair and clean fight. As I said, there should be no need for us to drag your limp body from the stadium. Understood?" We both nodded. "Good. May the best m-- person win." He turned and headed for the outskirts of the ring, leaving Legolas and I a little too close at the moment for comfort. Shaking my head slightly, I took both daggers in my left hand and extended my right. After a moment he clasped my wrist, a little too shaky for my liking.
"How long have we waited for this?" He 'hmphed.'
"Since we met." He smiled, a faint glimmer in his eyes.
"Then don't hold back." Legolas seemed surprised. "You're nervous, Mirkwood." He looked at me indifferently. "You're never nervous. Not when it comes to something this simple. I've no intention of hurting you, well, much, anyway, but neither do I intend to lose. Don't lower your game."
"But.."
"Legolas!" I practically exploded before catching myself. "Legolas, don't you dare disrespect me as a fighter by assuming I can't match your level. I would hope you knew me better than to think I couldn't beat you in a second. Besides, I'm not having you getting smudges on my trophy." He grinned. "So we're agreed? We both give each other our best fight…even though it's pointless because you'll still lose."
"Agreed." Legolas chuckled. "I owe you that much. Just, uh, don't be too bitter when I win." I laughed as I walked to my starting position, the referee calling for us to do so for the fifth time in the background.
"You're something, Mirkwood, you really are."
"Are the two of you finally ready?" The referee asked, a hint of annoyance clear in his tone. We both nodded our own affirmation. In one smooth movement the Prince unsheathed the daggers on his back and brought them down to his sides. "Then you may begin on my mark." There was a few seconds of breathless tension as the five thousand or so people crammed into the stadium waited for the Elf's signal. "Mark!" He shouted, bringing his raised arm down suddenly. There seemed a moment right after his voice rang out that the entire world remained in a freeze frame. With a breath I shook it off and the two of us circled one another, it seemed the most logical thing to do. It seemed like forever before we got anywhere close to striking distance.
"So what do you say we give them a show?" I grinned.
"Why you expected anything less, I do not know." Our blades met in a clash of cold steel, the audience gasping with delight. Both of us followed through with a few deft lunges and blows but nothing that couldn't be easily defended. We were just warming up. I ducked quickly as his arm skimmed above the top of my head then, jumping, used the momentum to flip back, putting some distance between us. He sheathed one dagger, leaving one hand free, and came at me. I kicked. He caught my ankle before my leg managed to connect with his torso. Before I knew it, he'd swung my foot over my head, flipping me down and causing me to have a firm meeting with the ground. I reeled as pain spread through my back. In a flash Legolas straddled my stomach and made to slash my arm lightly. He hesitated for the briefest of seconds, and that was enough for my feet to knock him off.
"Think you'll beat me that easy, Princey?" I kangaroo-kicked myself back onto my feet and whirled around in time to grab his wrist that was accelerating my direction. He replied with a smirk as his leg swiped under me just as I jumped to avoid them. I spun around, my braids twirling around behind me in a pirouette. I brought my left leg around at the same time, as if in a roundhouse kick. He grabbed for it, but a spilt second later my right had connected with his shoulder and he was down. Remembering that I did actually have a weapon, I swiped downwards. It was a fatal move, but I knew he'd dodge it just as easily as he did. The other came round a fraction of a centimetre away from his arm and the sharp intake of breath as he felt it skim the thin fabric of his shirt was audible.
"Good." He began, lunging forwards and placing me on the defensive. Our blades locked once more, and it became a test of strength as we both tried to push the other back. He leaned in closer. "But not good enough." Cocky little bastard.
~*~ Interlude ~*~
"I don't know who to root for." Narin said, leaning her head to one side in thought. "On one hand, he's my brother, but on the other, he's my brother." She regarded the two figures locked in an intricate combat. "And Yuna deserves to win after everything. And Legolas has won almost every year for the past Eru-knows-when…" She turned to the Elf next to her. "What do you think?" Firowen stroked his chin as his eyes followed the battle.
"Well, in the end it's all a beauty contest, isn't it?" He stated philosophically.
"So…that's who then?"
"Well Legolas certainly has the support of most of the female population, and, I wager, a good deal of the confused young males, but then again, Yuna has those amazing jug--"
"What?!" Narin looked appalled.
"Juggling talents." Firowen finished of smoothly. "Why, what do you think I was going to say? Really, my dear, I would have thought your opinion of me to be higher than that." His grin gave away that he was fully aware of the fact that he was winding her up. "I hope Yuna wins. Not only because Legolas needs to be taken down a notch, but also because he's my friend, and I'd hate for Yuna to claw his eyes out after he makes her wear a dress tonight."
"What's this?" She was interested now.
"Legolas and her made a bet. He told me that if he wins, she has to wear a dress at the celebration."
"And if she wins?"
"He didn't tell me. Probably he has to go naked or something, I wonder how high the pile of hormone-fuelled court ladies will be after he gets pounced on."
"Well I hope he wins too, in that case. I just can't wait to make her look stunning!" She grinned.
"In the good way, of course."
"That won't be too hard, though. For someone with so many admirers, she has a surprisingly low opinion of herself. Maybe this way I'll get her to see how gorgeous she can be!"
"You're getting excited over polishing up a woman who'll probably hate you for it?" She blushed.
"Well, why not? And besides, she can't blame me if she loses. All I'm going to do is dull the pain a little by picking out a nice dress for her to wear. There's nothing wrong with that, is there?"
"Of course not." He reassured her, discreetly slipping her hand into his and grinning boldly as he saw the corners of her mouth curve upwards. It had been the first contact they'd had since the day before that left the realm of friendship. 'She she was right.' Narin thought giddily as she revelled in the moment. 'He does like me.' Not for the first time, she was thankful that they had taken their seats further back in the royal box, away from the hawk-like eyes of her father, whom was sat in the front row regally. There was a gasp from the crowd, and the two looked up to see the subjects of their discussion standing, dead still. Legolas had his back to them, but they could see Yuna in full view, an intense expression on her face, and blood seeping out of a wound in her arm.
~*~ End Interlude ~*~
A thin line of red appeared on the sleeve of his shirt where my dagger had barely cut through the fabric. He hadn't seemed to notice. He was in exactly the same position as I. We had spun in opposite directions, and at the same time brought our knives around. His eyes were focused on my own arm. I felt a trickle of blood escape the wound. I looked down, disbelief hitting me square in the chest, my stomach dropping to the earth as I realised that the first blood drawn had been mine….
Or had it? Perhaps it was his. Maybe I had got in a split second before he had, and won the match. But there was no way of knowing now. The referee hurried towards us, the more obvious cut on my arm glaring out treacherously. He took breath to announce the Prince as the winner, no doubt, when Legolas spoke, just before I got a word in.
"Mine was the first blood drawn." He said, baring the tiny slit in the fabric and the papercut underneath. The referee's brow furrowed in thought.
"But…are you sure? I thought it was hers, at least, that's what I saw."
"Her cut is deeper, but mine was first." How sickeningly noble of him. Why did he do this to me? Put me in these stupid positions where I have to remember that I do have something to lose for once by being selfish. If I didn't do something, he was going to constantly remind me that I owed him, and that I'd still have to wear that bright yellow thing as well as the clashing shawl, heels, tacky gold jewellery, and sparkly tiara. I'd bargain with him. I'd wear a stupid dress if he put on some kind of a show. One humiliation deserved another, right?
"Wait," I started, as he took in breath to bellow again. "It was at the same time. I saw myself cut him at the same time I felt my own."
"Is this true?" He asked Legolas. I gave him a particular Look™.
"I am unsure, although I believe it could be so. The moment is rather blurry in my mind. But I have no reason to doubt her word." I had to stop myself from bursting into peals of laughter at his comment.
"Then…it is so." He left, looking rather perplexed. We watched him confer with the King for a moment. A sharp look in my direction from Thranduil prompted a grin from me. Without looking away, he gave a slow nod. The announcer bowed and walked out into the field once more. He took our opposite hands in his and raised them up before the crowd. "Behold your champions!" He bellowed. There was a bewildered murmur from the crowd. "We have a draw, as agreed by both parties!" It took a few seconds before a cheer rose up. He dropped our hands and beckoned us to follow him as he swept to the royal box. Legolas gave me a questioning look on the way, I merely shook my head at him witheringly as we approached, and accepted my fate.
~*~
"This is going to be so much fun!" Jen squealed, her and Narin were bustling about my room opening curtains, fiddling with mirrors and calling for servants to fetch various items.
"You're going to look amazing." The princess sighed. "I just know it."
"Now stand in the light." Jen commanded. I gave a pleading look which was utterly ignored before shuffling into the pool of light flowing in from the balcony. "What do you think?" She nudged her partner in crime. The two stood for a moment, arms crossed whilst they contemplated my fate.
"I'm not getting out of this alive, am I?"
"Oh, Yuna, stop being so morbid." Jen chuckled. "Just trust us, we've had enough experience to ensure you don't end up looking like a garnished troll."
"Besides, it's about time you tried on something different, all you ever wear are tunics and leggings." I was about to point out that all she ever wore were dresses with more layers than a full sized wedding cake but decided against it. I was in their hands now and they'd be inclined to give me more say if I kept my mouth, for the most part, shut.
"You have such a good figure, Yuna. And sometimes you just wear the most unflattering things." I just nodded, what was the point of arguing when they already had free reign over me. My only solace was the fact that I wasn't going through this alone. If I was humiliated, Legolas would be too, and hopefully in a far less discreet manner. "Like those incredible breasts, for one. There's absolutely nothing to be shamed of there, so why don't you show them off more?" I was formulating a reply when there came a knock on the door.
"Come in!" The two beckoned in unison. Gem opened the door at the head of a small convoy. Behind her six or so servants hustled in, arms laden with dresses, corsets, slippers and a whole manner of similarly unholy items in every colour imaginable. I grimaced. Why did I get the feeling that we were going to be here for a while?
"Of course we'd have had something specially made if there was time, but I'm sure we'll be able to alter one of these to fit you fine. Besides, I'm sure one of these is classy enough." Narin began to rifle through the piles on the floor.
"She means 'conservative'." Whispered Jen as more garments were brought in.
"I heard that."
"You'd be better of in something really sexy." Jen went on. Yes, I was finally truly convinced that Wood Elves were a different breed to those prudes in the Dell. "I'm sure Legolas would appreciate it…" She raised her eyebrows suggestively.
"….I'm sorry…what? You've been spending far too much time with Firowen"
"No." Narin broke in. "Like you said to me, it's just really, really obvious."
"Exactly. We even have proof. You two were cosying up outside of events." I was suddenly aware of my mouth hanging open.
"I was sleeping!"
"Uh-huh." They chorused.
"Alone!" I protested my innocence. "It's true."
"If it is, they why exactly does he want to see you in a dress so badly?" There was silence. The servants had even stopped scurrying about to listen in on the conversation. It was no surprise they all happened to be female.
"Because it's the one thing he knows I'd never do without a very good incentive!"
"And what exactly would this little incentive be?"
"We had a bet, and I sort of half lost."
"Of course you did." I hated that tone of voice.
"Look, even if I did like him in that way, which I don't, or he liked me in that way, which he doesn't, he's betrothed to Tengaar, and they love each other."
"Of course they do."
"Stop it!"
"You said in that way? What exactly does that mean?" the ever discerning Nairn.
"You know, like you like Firowen, and all the rest of that complicated …stuff."
"So you like him in another way?" Jen piped up eagerly.
"He's nice, okay? Happy now? He's pleasant to be around, but so are a great many others in this wood!" They were unconvinced. "He's betrothed, for Ilúvatar's sake."
"There's that, I suppose." Narin conceded half-heartedly. From the corner of my eye I noticed the servants giving each other knowing looks and returning to their work.
"Will that be all, my ladies?" Gem inquired, the servants finishing up with their tasks.
"Yes, thank you Gem." Narin replied. "We'll call you if we need anything further."
"Of course, milady." Gem bobbed a curtsey. "Alright, me dears." The hobbit ushered the others out. "Let's leave the ladies in peace." When all had left and the door closed, I asked a question that had been plaguing me for some time.
"Narin, don't you feel odd thinking about the entire female population of Eryn Lasgalen quite literally trying to get their hands on your brother?"
"I don't" Jen stated.
"That's because you've got someone better to think about."
"True." She smiled dreamily.
"…Well I suppose I've become used to it. Ever since he came of age they've been fawning over him relentlessly, hoping that he'll notice them." She picked up one of the many dresses littered on the floor and fiddles with the beadwork. "That is, until Tengaar came along, then they pretty much backed off." I nearly choked.
"This is them 'backed off'?"
"Oh, you should have seen them before." Jen bubbled. "They practically seized the palace. 'Legolas, come take a walk, won't you please?'" She fluttered her eyelashes in a way that someone somewhere must have thought attractive as she mimicked the mating call of the typical courtesan. "'Oh Prince Legolas, will you give us an archery demonstration.?'" Here her voice went completely flat. "'For you are ever so handsome and brave.' And of course the worst thing is if they can't get directly to him, they'll go through you. 'Oh, Jen, why don't we go out somewhere, and maybe you can invite one of your friends, you know, like Prince Legolas?!?!'" It was amazing they way she made the extra punctuation audible.
"It's incredible the lengths they go to. Being his sister, I've heard all about it either from him after a hard days' Being Pleasant or from one of those ratty little harlots themselves. Anyway, back on track. What do you think of this one?" Narin lifted up a frock of a pale bronze colour with bits of lace attached somehow in seemingly random places.
"In a word, no. It would clash too much with her colouring. But anyhow." She carried on. "The scariest one of them all is one Aryana Vailariël ." What a name.
"Oh, Valar." Narin sighed, picking up two dresses, one peach and the other green. She came over, holding a sleeve of each up to my face. "Warm or cool?"
"Cool, definitely."
"Lady Aryana Vailariël, one of the most insignificant of Ladies, but she clings to the title like life itself. As does her mother. She's had designs set on my brother since….well, frankly as long as I can remember, So 'cool' it is, then. That means only blues, whites, silvers and some greens, reds, pinks, purples and golds." Jen nodded, already on the floor separating out the colours. I swallowed, trying hard not to let out another sigh.
"Does Legolas like her?" I inquired, perplexed.
"He seems somewhat oblivious. Our dear, sweet and at times hopelessly naïve Prince." Jen explained, switching places with Narin. She held up a light lavender gown dotted with pearls. "Are we thinking long or short sleeved…or sleeveless?" She rose her voice encouragingly.
"I think that all depends on the dress."
"In that case are we thinking with a waist, or a corset? High or plunging neckline? Flowing or fitted skirt?"
"I think that depends on the colour." Narin replied, continuing the seemingly never ending circle of 'dress decisions.'
"It was hilarious when, as soon as Aryana thought she'd finally got her claws into him, he brought Tengaar home, and all her dreams were dashed."
"The look on her face when the engagement was announced." They giggled in unison.
"Ah." Narin jumped up. "You'll probably meet her tonight."
"Poor thing still thinks she can snag him from under Tengaar's nose."
"So of course she'll be there, dressed to the nines and ready to poor herself onto him. If we're going to do this in time we're going to need to eliminate some colours. What do you say to only red, white, silver, green and blue?" Jen nodded enthusiastically.
"What about this one?" She picked up a snow white dress covered in embroidery.
"Good choice. You need to try it on, Yuna." I shrugged with indifference as Jen handed me the gown. It seemed excessively heavy for an item of clothing, especially one that wasn't made out of leather or metal. I wondered behind a paralleled screen that had been hurriedly set up a few minutes ago and stripped to my undergarments. I stared hard at the thing whilst reassuring myself that getting into it probably wasn't as hard as I thought.
"Did Narin tell you what happened with her and Firowen?"
"Jen!"
"She kissed him…finally!"
"Unlike some, I didn't need to resort to slapping his behind." She giggled.
"Your brother thoroughly and utterly deserved that. This thing's a little tight across the, um, chest."
"Don't worry, we can always let it out." I came out from behind the screen and hobbled over to a full length mirror, trying desperately not to trip on the abundance of material below my feet.
"It's good, but, um…" Jen trailed off.
"I know, there's something that just doesn't seem quite right about it…"
"It clashes with my skin." I stated.
"She's right." Narin seemed astonished.
"And seeing as it doesn't have any sleeves it shows off that ugly bandage." Jen added.
"So we're going for sleeves then?"
" I think we have to. Even though she does have really good shoulders."
"Then at least we can get rid of an entire category. Which leaves us with short and long sleeved." On the polished floor two piles had been clearly formed and thankfully the one I assumed as being the 'maybe' pile was noticeably smaller than the other. "Next."
~*~
"I look like a tree."
"True…but a nice one." I glared at Narin. "It's the seventh one you've tried on and there's been something wrong with each one! You're impossible!"
"Look, Yuna, you despise everything we chose, so why don't you just pick something?"
"Alright." I said, with more conviction than I felt, kneeling down to face the remaining heap of material. I closed my eyes, shoved my hands in, and took out the first thing I liked the feel of, dragging it out from the cluster."
"Um…it looks a little big." Jen commented.
"It can't be any worse than the others." The princess sighed, "Just try it on." I reappeared a few minutes later clad in the pale blue dress which billowed out around me.
"Well…on the good side, it's a perfect fit around the…chest." Jen stated.
"Actually," Narin said hopefully. "With a bodice or corset on over, it just might work."
"Will one of these do, milady?" Asked Gem, appearing from nowhere. The two started before regaining composure and considering the two corsets the Hobbit proposed. "Unfortunately, they're the only ones that might have a hope of fitting."
"Then I think we'll try the silver one. Somehow, I doubt burgundy's really going to go with it." Jen stood and, taking the corset, proceeded to manhandle it in a very motherly fashion. Which generally meant no discretion whatsoever. "Breathe in and hold." With apprehension, I did as I was told whilst she put one dainty foot on the small of my back and pulled the two bits of lacing as hard as she could. I felt as if my ribs were cracking and my organs compressing as she tightened it fully and secured the fastenings in a bow.
"I can't breathe." I squeaked.
"Yes, that's the general idea." She nodded brightly. "Don't worry, you get used to it…eventually."
"I was right." Narin said smugly. "It's perfect!"
"I wouldn't go that far, but in any case it's the best one here and I'm sure with a nice pair of slippers on it'll be just fine."
"It is rather complimentary, isn't it? Fabulous sleeves. With jewellery and the right hair I'm sure she'll look absolutely spectacular!"
"Nobody said anything about hair." I frowned.
"Oh, don't be silly, Yuna," Narin laughed. "The dress alone really means nothing."
"Ah…" I rubbed my forehead.
"Gem." Jen addressed the Hobbit. "Be a dear and draw a bath, will you?"
"At once, milady." She bobbed and headed out.
"Now, let's get this off you and see about a necklace, not too much, though, just something elegant and…"
"Classy…" They both finished Narin's sentence.
"And something for the hair."
"Up or down?"
"Down, I think…maybe intertwined with little beads."
"Hmm." Jen nodded. "Well, we better be off. Got things to take care of before tonight."
"Huh?" I moaned.
"Oh, don't worry, Gem will take care of everything." Narin reassured me.
"See you later." The other elf cooed. Before I knew it the two had swept out the door and I was left to try and remover the torture device myself.
~*~
After three hours of pampering, which, I had to admit, I rather enjoyed, I found myself staring at an unfamiliar figure in the mirror. The dress I'd been forced to wear was a light aquamarine blue at the top which blended into a slightly paler shade of blue somewhere around the waist. The edges of the sleeves and hem were embroidered with silver thread depicting a vast array of flowers and leaves, each of them small and delicate. Although it started in a boat neck, the fabric was sheer enough to make out the ample cleavage the silver corset provided me with. The corset was made from silk, with a harder material underneath designed to prevent any kind of comfort whatsoever. I wouldn't be surprised if it was made out of metal or wood. It had a front panel lightly embroidered with upward trailing flowers, which seemed to be a heavily recurring theme here, and dotted with tiny, pearl-like silver beads. The sleeves, which started narrow and billowed out before my elbows, ending somewhere below my knees, seemed to have more layers of material than anyone could possibly need.
"Foot. Up." Gem commanded, easing on a satin slipper which was pretty much the same colour as my dress, but decorated with small beads. "I must say." The Hobbit smoothed down a few creases in the skirt. "Done a rather good job." She giggled. "If I do say so myself." I couldn't take my eyes from the reflection, it must have been some type of deep-rooted morbid fascination. In the background, Gem hummed some random Shire tune as she fixed my hair for what seemed the hundredth time. In fact, it probably was.
"I knew it…" I whispered to myself.
"Knew what, milady?" Gem asked, straightening the hem unnecessarily.
"Oh, um, nothing…" 'Just that all my worst fears have come to life.' I sighed. 'I look stupid. This isn't me, and it doesn't look like me. I'm a warrior, not some simpering courtier who sits around all day planning her wedding. It was absurd of me to think I might actually look…' I shook my head. 'But I guess this is exactly what he wanted, all this time…to humiliate me. One embarrassment deserves another.' I wouldn't be able to look anyone in the eye after tonight. Not after looking so foolish in front of the entire court. I was generally shameless as things went, but for me to turn up looking like some Harad peacock was almost too much. 'What's happened to me? How have I allowed myself to be talked into something so pathetic by some blonde idiot?' There was a knock on the door.
"That'll be your escort." Gem jumped up hurriedly.
"Escort?"
"Oh yes, the Princess said she'd send someone special to take you down when the time was right."
"Special…?" I panicked.
"Uh huh." She beamed. "Oh! Hold on a tick, you're not ready yet!"
"Um…okay…?"
"There's just one last thing." She rushed over to the dresser and retrieved a tiny vial out of one of its many drawers. She uncorked it with a pop before lifting my right wrist and depositing a small amount of the liquid held within onto the skin. "Rub your wrists together then rub a little behind your ears." I rolled my eyes before Gem returned it with a stern glare as I…rubbed, she went to the door to let in my unknown escort. I think it was then that I felt it. For the first time in an age. Butterflies. My stomach seized up in flutters, my heart skipped its fair share of beats, my breath exited my lungs in one long, shaky exhale. I couldn't bear to turn around. I didn't belong down there, not with them, pretending to be someone I definitely wasn't. Nonetheless, I knew I had to. If anything, I owed them, no that was wrong. They'd helped me, true enough, but they weren't what I was worried about, he was.
"Yuna?" I recognised the voice immediately and gave a brief sigh of relief.
"Nólad." I said, turning to face him with a smile plastered to my features.
"Wow! You look…" we said, before laughing in unison a moment alter.
"You look really good! …Different, but nice!" He exclaimed without any obvious sarcasm.
"Don't look too bad yourself." I arched an eyebrow. He was dressed in an almost tea-green tunic with leggings to mach, both obviously new. A small circlet rested on his forehead, helping to bring out the colour in his cerulean eyes. He smiled almost cheekily.
"Are you ready, milady?" I bit my bottom lip.
"As ready as I'll ever be." He nodded and offered his arm to me which I graciously took. "So, is there anyone special you're planning on meeting tonight?" I inquired as, arm in arm, we strolled out the door and into the corridor beyond.
"No." He replied sheepishly.
"So that's a yes then, is it?"
"Um…yes…"
~*~
My eyes surveyed the scene before me. The courtyard in the centre of the palace was dressed up almost to the extent of some of the ladies present. The theme turning out to be roses, I surmised, making an educated guess after surveying the great branches twined into the wrought fences by the walkways, into the trellis covering a small part of the heavenly twilight sky, and the petals scattered on the stone floor. Groups of coifed Elves stood chatting with one another about this or that, a group of females huddled in one corner giggling, clad in a colourful array of silks, shooting coy glances around the room periodically. Jen and Cer stood together, their ocean blue garments matching just enough to be perfectly complimentary, but different enough to make it look like a fortunate accident. She caught sight of us and waved us over. Nólad grinned, glancing at me briefly before leading me down into the courtyard.
"You look fabulous!" She squealed, reaching over and giving her brother a rib-crushing Big Sister hug before she turned to me. "And look at you! Gem certainly did a good job! Well done her." My eyes narrowed.
"I suffered for the best part of four hours and all you can do is praise my torturer?"
"Just look at the results, though! You're a different person! I'll wager you'll be beating admirers off with a stick by the end of tonight." She said, with, I was sad to find, no trace of sarcasm whatsoever.
"If I'd known we were allowed to take weapons, I would have certainly taken mine. In fact, I think I'll go fetch it now." I turned to leave, but was swivelled round by her firm grip on my wrist.
"Oh no you don't. You're not going anywhere until everyone's seen how pretty you look." That was new. In my life, I'd been described as a great many things. 'Pretty' was not one of them. "Doesn't she look lovely, Cer?" The smile threatening to split her face in half had not grown any smaller. He nodded.
"Indeed, but I am not without sympathy. I have seen her 'Mother' the twins first hand, and am impressed you survived without any visual trauma." She glared at him, but it was the lovesick glare of one whom could never stay angry for very long. Especially since this night saw their engagement formally announced.
"Ooh! Here comes Celoril and Linwëlin!" Jen pointed to the main entrance where her brother and a stunning lady clothed in midnight blue regally descended the stairs.
"Why do you two match?" I asked Nólad, my eyes flitting over his brother's identical tunic. Jen grinned.
"They always do that. It's just a lot more confusing for everyone that way. Especially since we have so many from outside Eryn Lasgalen attending." The two approached us arm in arm, Celoril cocking his head to one side as he noticed my attire.
"How many did it take to tie you down for long enough to get that thing on?" He questioned. I crossed my arms over my protruding chest and treated him to a Look™. Linwëlin slapped his arm lightly.
"You must be Lady Yunalesca." She gave a dazzling smile. "The first person, let alone the first woman, to draw with the Prince, even though there are rumours that in fact you won the dagger match. A grand feat in itself, against Legolas." I shook my head.
"If I had won, lady, I would not have been forced into this contraption for the evening." I said with a smile. "And I'm sure everyone, especially the long-suffering Gem, would be a lot happier."
"I wouldn't say that, Yuna! After all that work Narin and I undertook to make you look like that!" Jen pouted.
"Well I think you look lovely." Linwëlin started again. "The colour brings out your hair beautifully. Tell me, do you hail from Lórien? As that is the only place I can think of that houses the silver-haired." I shook my head.
"I am not, as far as I am aware, but you must tire of me as quickly as I do. So…um…how long have you two been together?" The others merely stood in quiet amusement watching as I tried to make small talk, something I was never very good at.
"Four and a half centuries." She stated, giving Celoril a look. Elves certainly did court for a long time… "We married within the year." I furrowed my brow, running over what she just said.
"You…you're married?." I asked Celoril in disbelief. Why, oh why did no one tell me things?
"Well…yes." He replied. "What, didn't you know?" I shook my head slowly.
"So you just conveniently forgot to mention that you were married, did you?" Linwëlin asked, fuming.
"Of course not!" He defended himself. "I just thought she knew!"
"Without you telling her?"
"Yes without me tellin-- no! I just sort of forgot…"
"That you were married?"
"No! That I had to tell her…"
"So where's Narin, then?" Nólad interrupted tactfully.
"I sent Firowen to get her." Jen grinned. "He's her escort. Even though she doesn't know it yet."
"Oh look, there's Tengaar." I followed Linwëlin's gaze to where Tengaar stood, chatting to what looked form behind to be Lord Celeborn. She was radiant in white, setting off her dark ringlets perfectly, which were interwoven with snowy blossoms that looked to be lilies. She reached up to cover her mouth as she laughed, her eyes and nose scrunching up like a squirrel's, an expression that on anyone else would have been nothing short of cringeworthy. Of course this didn't apply to the marvellous Noldor Lady before me. I adjusted my corset almost self-consciously.
~*~ Interlude ~*~
The words blended together in my mind. I liked to think that we didn't get so eccentric as humans when they aged, but I seemed to have been proved wrong. I had been talking to…what was his name? I couldn't remember. He had set upon me with his views of something or another as soon as I made a move away from the main crowd. I felt like a piece of carrion preyed upon by the vultures of the court. I nodded, murmuring a faint sound of affirmation as he paused, probably waiting for some kind of signal that he had my undivided attention.
I saw her as soon as she entered the room. How could I not have? The uncertain glances around the room as she hobbled away from the centre of attention to where Jen and Cer stood. She was wearing a dress. I still was having trouble processing this. A dress. So I would have to go through with that hideous forfeit after all, if she wasn't going to back down. Then again, I suppose it was worth it. She looked out of place, yet blended in strangely well. She appeared her usual confident self, but I could feel her uncharacteristic shyness. It was obvious she hadn't worn a dress every day of her life, but at the same time, she looked strangely--
"My Prince?" It was the self-proclaimed philosopher. I blinked, tearing my eyes away from the group. "Forgive me, I'm afraid I must be leaving. I hope to continue our conversation later." He sketched a bow and was off, finally. I turned and headed towards them, Jen heralding my arrival.
"Legolas! Where have you been? You missed all the excitement!" Jen trilled.
"Excitement?"
"Oh never mind. Look!" She gripped Yuna by the shoulders and thrust her in my direction. "Doesn't she look fabulous?" She stated, more than asked.
"Perfectly. Um…" I trailed off at the Look™ that could have made Morgoth give up and go home.
"Well I hope you're happy." She seethed. She wasn't really mad. I could feel it. More like a sort of unrivalled sense of utter embarrassment that was less humiliating if it was vented as anger.
"I am, I think whomever was unfortunate enough to have to dress you has done a fantastic job." Her eyes narrowed to devilish slits.
"You just don't get it, do you? I am going to kill you. And you have no idea how much I'm going to enjoy it."
"Oh you're just saying that." She grabbed the scruff of my tunic and pulled me towards her, lowering her voice in a scorching whisper.
"Two words, Mirkwood. Castrate, and butter-knife."
~*~ End Interlude ~*~
I sat primly, keeping as straight a back as I could manage when every instinct screamed at me to tear that damn corset off. Narin was on my right, Firowen on my left. We sat at the top of the table, the King one seat down at the head. Legolas was directly in front of me, with his brother opposite Narin and Ginger Dreadlocks to his left. Legolas had worn that damn silver suit from Lórien again. At least it looked like it. It was probably new, come to think of it. It was unlikely he'd ever wear the one he wore on the quest again. Even just before I left him I looked as if it could walk back to Mirkwood on its own, I hated to think what state it would be in now. His sandy blond hair was unadorned save for two small braids and a dirty great big silver circlet. I noted briefly that Aldaríon and Narin wore a similar one, only he seemed to fidget a lot more, and hers was a little more feminine.
I poked at my food. Any appetite I had had been thoroughly squashed to death by the evil contraption around my midriff. I looked up to find Legolas' pitying expression aimed at me. I glared straight back. Almost in slow motion I saw a hand reach down and pluck a grape from a bunch on a plate similarly resplendent with fresh fruits. It hurtled across that small gulf between us, over the tabletop garnished with waterfalls of linen, and landed squarely down my cleavage. I drew in breath sharply, eyes widening slightly. He looked mortified. Well, that was nothing. Unabashedly, and without taking my eyes from him, I placed one hand under my ample bosom and pushed it skywards, reaching down with the other and easing out the grape. I looked at it for a moment, then turned my attention back to him. He gulped visibly as I narrowed my eyes, then, placing it between my teeth, bit down hard. Oh, he was dead.
~*~
Dinner had been pronounced over, and I was loitering by the door, waiting for the opportune moment to make my escape. Just as I thought no one was looking, he bore down on me, foiling any chance of escape. His black hair fell thick and straight to his shoulders. His face was unlined, yet chiselled. His prominent eyes intense and disconcerting. They seemed to give no hint of humour, temper, or mood, but were electrically intense at the same time
"My Lady." He said in a smooth, unaccented voice, that was far too deep to be anything resembling Elvish.
"You…you were one of the finalists." I couldn't help myself, I was too curious. "Might I ask, what is your name?"
"I am called Daeguerro." I took a mental note of the way he dodged the question 'what is your name' to instead give me an Aragorn-esque pseudonym.
"….Yunalesca." I replied after a while. A faint smile crossed his angular lips.
"Yes, I know who you are. How could I not? You are this year's true champion." I felt strangely flattered, but banished the feeling as swiftly as it came.
"I wouldn't say that."
"Ah, but there are many who would. Myself being one of them." He smiled again, the faintest of lines bracketing his mouth, as if the expression felt as foreign to him as it looked. It was a rather unpleasant experience talking to him, heightened by his blank mahogany eyes searching mine tirelessly. Luckily, I was rescued from this experience as I heard my name being called. I threw an apologetic look in his direction before sweeping off to whoever called me.
It was Legolas, having just been released from the clutches of Doom, formally known as Aryana Vailariël. She was resplendent in dusty lilac, which clung to her every fleshless bone like a garment stretched out to dry. If that wasn't enough, she was cornfield blonde. I suddenly felt self conscious about the way my hips flared out to almost the same width as my shoulders, whilst hers didn't seem to exist at all. I slowed as I approached, thinking of veering off to one side so I wouldn't be roped into talking with him. As if he could read my thoughts, he reached out and caught my wrist, swirling me around nicely so I ended up next to him, and pulled me towards the centre of the hall, where couples twirled elegantly to the music.
"Mirkwood, I swear, you let go of my wrist or I'll slap that grin right off your stupid face." Great, I was too confused to even insult properly. His grip didn't get any slacker, if anything it tightened. "Let me go, you little--Legolas! Please, please, I can't dance, you can't make me, let me go!" I could feel the now familiar nervousness bubbling up in my stomach. Amazing there was any room. "What part of I can't dance did you not understand?" We were on the floor now, he ground to a halt in the midst of several couples.
"It's not that hard, really, I'm sure you'll pick it up." He said calmly. I hated him. I was sure of it now.
"Not without you loosing a few toes. For Eru's sake, Legolas, just bloody let go! I can't dance! You've already humiliated me enough tonight." He looked almost regretful for a moment. A new tune started up. It was slower this time.
"Alright, this one's easy."
"Cannot dance." I protested weakly.
"It's easy, you'll pick it up quickly. Just stand on my feet." I started.
"What?"
"Stand on my feet. Your dress won't let anyone see, don't worry."
"On your feet? Are you crazy? I'll crush you."
"You're not that heavy."
"And how would you know?"
"I've carried you before. Now hurry up before someone starts wondering what we're doing standing in the middle of the dance floor talking."
"That's your fault!" I tentatively stepped onto his feet. My slippers were barely there, and I could feel him flex his boots beneath me. Without warning, he moved my left hand onto his shoulder, and as I almost toppled over steadied me with a hand at the small of my back. I tensed at the contact, but did my best not to show it, after all, he didn't seem to be aware that my cleavage was bobbing around just bellow his eye level. Just as he moved, I lost my balance again and was glad for his hand reaching out to grip my own. Then, his feet started moving slowly around the dance floor. I hoped we looked a little more normal than I felt.
"See? You're fine." I regained some of my composure.
"Well as long as I don't spontaneously combust with the looks that group in the corner's giving me, I'm sure I will be."
"By the way, I'm sorry." I crinkled my brow.
"For which part of this disastrous evening? The part where I had to wear a dress or the part where I got a grape down said dress?"
"All of it. I'm sorry you feel embarrassed. Although, I can't see why you would be, I don't think anyone saw."
"Look what I'm wearing, Legolas, then ask me why I feel embarrassed." As much as I tried to make it sound as scalding as possible, the fact that I was smiling faintly as I said it -- much to my horror -- did not really add to the effect.
"Yuna, look around. Find me one female in here that isn't wearing a dress."
"Her." I nodded towards the door.
"Very good, except that's a man."
"Oh. Well he's from Lórien, you can never tell." Why was I in a good enough mood to even think about joking with this…this…philanderer…
"Besides, you look…good. Really good." I cocked my head at him, searching for a retort, but was cut off as he twirled me around in unison with the other couples in the hall.
"You…!" I finished lamely.
"Yes?"
"Just forget it. How long before this is over? Not that I care about your feet or anything, but I'd rather get back to my bed as soon as possible."
"Well, you're dancing by yourself now. And doing a rather good job of it, I must say, even if you are leading." I faltered for a moment, then looked down where his uncrushed feet were in plain view. I almost tripped over myself at the next move.
"Great, if you hadn't told me that, I'd be fine." I huffed.
"If you want to go now, no one's stopping you."
"No, that'd look a little weird, and I think your worshipers would set upon me in the hallway demanding why I left you by yourself."
"So a few more minutes couldn't hurt?"
"I guess."
~*~
"So are you ready?" I asked the Prince as we strode off the dance floor, though no where near quick enough for my liking.
"Ready for what exactly?"
"Don't think I've simply forgotten about your end of our little deal." I turned to him, making sure I had his undivided attention. "Seeing as I have had to endure this torture device for over three hours now and have also been made to prance around like some hawking courtier, which, might I remind you was not part of our agreement. You are going to have to declare your undying love for Firowen with far more gusto then I am sure you previously hoped." He sighed. "Now let's go find the little blighter." I spotted him not to far away, surrounded by a cluster of pretty young things. Purposefully, I set off towards him, dragging Legolas in my wake.
"Firowen!" I exclaimed as we neared him. He turned and looked puzzled for a moment before the expression was replaced by one of dread. "I think our Princey here has something to say to you."
"Oh, how wonderful." He said, deadpan.
"Go on, Legolas." I shoved him in front of the other blond and looked on expectantly.
"…Firowen…um…I think I'm in love with…you…" He said, barely above a whisper. I could see the tips of his ears starting to turn crimson.
"What's going on here?" It was Narin.
"Oh, nothing much. Your brother here just feels there is something he has to inform Firowen of, but a bit louder this time." I nudged Legolas in the ribs and nodded furiously. Around us the elf maidens closed in hoping they could make out what it was they hadn't heard the first time round. "…and maybe on one knee, Mirkwood?" I said, getting a sudden wave of inspiration. He looked at me as if to ask 'do I have to?' to which I glared the reply of 'yes you do'. After a moments hesitation, he knelt down and looked up into the now, very confused, face of Firowen. I assumed he was hoping that what he thought he'd heard the Prince whisper but a moment ago was simply a trick of the mind. Legolas cleared his throat.
"Firowen." He started, and much better this time I had to say. "There's something I feel I must tell you. From the moment I saw you, I knew that you were the only one for me. Never in my life have I met someone with such passion, such character, such…" He was laying it on a bit thick. "…fire. I know now that to spend another moment of my life without you would be like dying a million slow, painful deaths. " Though perhaps he wasn't so good with words. "What I'm trying to tell you is I love you." That got a gasp from the ladies all round. "It is the kind of love that will go on through the ages, unchanging, undying. Forever." A slight sound escaped Narin's lips, but for the most part the world around us seemed to stand still.
"Good one, Legolas." Firowen chuckled, breaking the hushed air. "For the moment there I though you were being serious." He said with a hint of worry in his tone.
"Yes…good one…" I echoed. The ladies around looked to one another, not quite sure of the situation. It was the kind of speech they'd dreamt about…with exactly the person they'd dreamt reciting it. But instead of them being the one with passion and…fire, it was the second choice. For two potential fiancées to have been knocked out in one go was unfeasible…wasn't it?
"What…why…um…" Narin trailed off.
"Isn't it magical?" I clasped my hands together, trying my best not to retch right there and then at the tone of my voice. In ones and twos, the court ladies sidled off, throwing backward glances at the two. There was a fog of confusion milling around the two of them. My work here was done. I grinned wider. "Well that was spectacular. A great performance from the both of you." Narin looked in the pits of despair, Firowen looked pensive, Legolas looked deadly serious, and I was fleeing for the doorway. "Well, must be off, thanks for a wonderful evening." And I was gone.
~*~
It was a scant few minutes later that I walked down the corridor leading to my room. Just as I made to turn a corner, I heard Tengaar ahead of me, and someone else. I stopped, hugging the wall discreetly as I waited for the right moment. It was probably nothing, but that wasn't the point. After a few seconds, I leaned around, my head still in the shadows, and wondered at what I saw. Tengaar just entering her room, with someone else in tow. But…it couldn't be…could it?
A.N. Was the wait worth it for this massive chapter? 11,138 words isn't bad considering in our first week back we've been bombarded with piece after piece of coursework (EVIL!) and have been too busy on weekends to even consider loading up the comp (which is being an almighty turd again, but what else is new?). Adding to all this, we have a brand new fic coming out soon! (By soon we mean after the CITS saga thingy) You'll have to wait until then to see what fandom it is, although we will be promoting it on a regular basis. Understandably, after a year we need something of a break from LOTR, and seeing as we've practically thought of every little thing that's going to happen in this right the way until it's COMPLETELY finished (as in after any sequels you evil people will make us write), we just needed something new to focus on.
Reviews:
Lena, PepsiBob, Satori Blackthorn, Michelle, Melia, Tara6, sweet-legolas, Iariel, NYANKOCHAN, and anyone else we've forgotten: Thanks for taking the time to review, and don't worry, there will be a lot more Firowen, fluff, and general fic-ness. Sorry for keeping you guys waiting so long. ^_^
Elrohir fan: Elrohir rocks, doesn't he? And thanks for the shortest review in history! 3 words. Yay! (we're not being sarcastic. We get excited over the strangest things…)
AAR Rocks my socks: AAR, would that be the All American Rejects by any chance? (Who, by the way, rock) Anyway, Rai's in the process of revamping the fic, and, strangely enough, has got up to just before Moria. That might be why. =)
Sylvia Viridian: Aragorn? He's in Gondor as far as we can tell. Um…we're confused. Did you mean Daeguerro?
orange.blossom3: Sure, why not?
Melanie: We like your idea. A lot. It will be done. Probably in the very distant future, but nonetheless, it will be done. Éomer shall once more grace this fic with his manly presence.
Levanna: Us? Tense problems? Never! Rest assured we are now in the process of combing through the fic to make it a) readable, and b) grammar and spelling PERFECT! (Rai's a little obsessed). And about Firowen, everyone loves him anyway, and he's not going anywhere.
Iluvien: Thanks for those 5 or so reviews. About the suspicion thing. We feel that MS characters are given entirely too much benefit of the doubt, and if you were on a secret quest to save the world, would you trust Nurfea Springfrost (fully equipped with a fiery personality, hair to match, and the most beautiful violet eyes you'd ever seen) with your life after an hour of acquaintance? Pretty doubtful. It's just our twisted way of giving back to the cannon when we have taken so, so much.