I do not own Lord of the Rings. I do not own Legolas, although that would be nice. Eriathwen is a creation of my own modeled after a Halloween costume I made myself. Theplot I thought of while trying to istract myself from the thousand foot drop offs woth no guide rail on the mountains of California. Everything else is not mine...but I can still wish that Legolas was sitting in my dorm room right now, right? Don't tell my boyfriend!
Also, I just had to take a crack a mushy romance story. It's one of those things that everyone has to try at least once, right? So no flames for me being a romance sap. Think of it as a love of chocolate, everyone loves chocolate! Please be nice and review!
She Was Eriathwen
She wandered farther and farther into the forest. She was not really traveling, it was more of nomadic life, or so it could be called because she had no home. It was most unusual for an elf of those days, especially one as beautiful as she, to be without a home. But with beauty comes mystery, at least in her case. She was different, set apart from the others. She was Eriathwen.
She was beautiful alright; with long dark brown hair pulled back in a single braid that finely featured her slightly pale face, and stopped in the middle of her back. She had a nice build to her; strong shoulders, very refined collar bones. She had a small waist, which the belt she wore accented nicely, and her hips swayed slightly as she walked with her long stride. Although slightly shorter than most elves, she had long legs and even with her high boots on, you could tell that she had toned muscles in her calves, but not so much as to look 'ungirlish'. She didn't care about how she looked so much as the other girls, however she was self-conscious, mostly about her skills, more so than anything else.
She was a fighter, and proud of it. She couldn't, she wouldn't, wear a dress like the other women. Her attire was dark; black boots that fit her well, stopping just below the knee, light grey pants that conformed to her body and moved with her perfectly, and a black and grey fitted tunic that came down below the waist. Her belt tied loosely around her hips and the strings hung down catching the wind. She left the top of her shirt untied, showing the top of her chest slightly, mostly so her skin could breathe.
She looked seductive yes; but she was deadly, especially inside where her heart had become a black hole, as black as the midnight black cloak that hung richly from her shoulders, showing off her fine bone structure. She rarely used the hood of the cloak; she liked the rain, so she needn't hide from the rain. She had no need to hide her face; she stayed away from people as often as possible, therefore no one saw her much anyways. She did not heed the cold, for nothing was as cold as her empty heart and spirit, with only a blazing anger at life to keep her alive.
She didn't know why she hated so much. She had shut out the world long ago, and never let the light come in. She wandered around wherever she pleased. Yes, she did her own 'traveling', never staying in one place to long, just searching for something, and then leaving again. She didn't even know what it was that she was searching for; she just knew she hadn't found it yet. Something was missing in her life, perhaps which was the cause of her black hole of a heart. But the bitterness she held did not bother her any more than the rain did.
It bothered other people though, and they stayed away from her when she was younger, before she left what little of a home she had had. Or maybe they shied away for fear that she would kill them, after all, she was the only she-elf they knew that wore breeches and walked around with a bow on her back and a long dagger at her side, not to mention the knife that she secretly kept hidden on the inside of her boot. But either way, she successfully did exactly what she had wanted to do: keep her elven contact to a minimal. She hoped to avoid all elves and all others completely upon arriving at her new destination, as soon as she found it. She had decided that perhaps she would go to Mirkwood, and that was were she was at currently, but she was hoping to get to Lasgalen, and, being as how she had throughout her many travels, never been there before, had no idea as how to get there.
Not that she cared, she could wander around for months before reaching it, and she wouldn't mind at all. Because she was sure she would be leaving soon after arriving; still searching for the unknown, still empty of the missing thing that she had not yet discovered was, still longing for a purpose, and still wanting a plan for her life. She didn't care though. She was perfectly content with wandering around aimlessly for the rest of her life, and, since she was an elf that was a long time. But it didn't matter, because she was Eriathwen. And to her, and her world, that was all that mattered.