Lúthien felt around the ground, gathering sticks to build a fire. She could see, but not well. The moon was slightly smaller than it had been the night before. Normally, it would have been enough, but the sky was cloudy and blocked much of the moonlight. It was going to rain. Piling the sticks beneath the boughs of a tree, she began to strike the flint stones she had found in the travel sac. The tree would give some shelter from the rain. She had been lucky that the stones were in the bag she had gotten when she and her parents parted company. She had a small fire going in no time, adding larger sticks gradually. Once the fire was going well, she walked to the cloth she had laid out in the sun earlier. She touched it, and to her delight, it was dry. Taking it with her, she walked over to the fire. Gilleth had laid down not far away, making herself comfortable in the grass beneath the tree. Laying the cloth a fair distance from the fire, she collected as much firewood she could find, and set it near the fire. Following Gilleth's example, she laid down in the grass, covering herself with the cloth. She rested there for a while, lying awake, and tossing the occasional stick onto her fire.
She let her mind wander as the rain began to fall. Then something came to her. How did she know where she was heading? She had never been to Rivendel, and she had never once wondered if she was going in the right direction. A slight panic washed over her. What if she was going the wrong way? Then the panic left as soon as it came. Somehow, some way, she knew she was going the right way. It was almost like her sense of danger, though not bad. Something inside told her to go this way, and she would trust that sense. Her senses had yet to lead her astray. With a newfound calm, she drifted off to sleep to the drumming of the rain.
It was dark, very dark. Lúthien looked around her, but could see nothing. She felt as though she was not alone. Something in the depths of the night watched her, haunted her, hunted her. She could feel it, always just out of sight, just out of the reach of her senses. It chilled her to the bone. Her fear was so thick she could taste it, paralyzing and terrible. She felt it in her mind, like all the evils of the night had taken shape. Now those evils sought to destroy her. Her eyes darted around her, seeking, searching for whatever thing lay in waiting just beyond her vision. Then she saw it. It came forth, a shadow in the blackness. It reached out to her. Its very existence consisted of death and she jerked away from it. It flew to her with a speed she'd never though possible. It grabbed her up, wrapping her in its death. Pain coursed through her, but she was too frightened to scream. Then she saw it, the eye. The terrible eye, staring at her, staring through her, burning her soul to ashes. The same terrible fear found her, fear so real it felt as though her body was being torn apart.
With a start, Lúthien jolted up from her sleep. Gilleth regarded her curiously. The same fear from her dream coursed through her. She gripped at her chest, grimacing in pain. What in the name of Valar could cause such a feeling? Her breathing was harsh and labored. Sweat began to form on her delicate brow. The source of her fear seemed to be all around her. She set herself against the painful fear and tried to focus. It came from the north west and south east. Two different sources, but the same fear. What could this possibly mean? What could it be?
Then, as suddenly as it started, it stopped. Lúthien remained unmoving, panting as the pain and fear slowly faded away. The night air cooled the sweat on her delicate brow and she soon felt chilled to the bone. The rain had stopped, but the air was left cold and moist. The tree had been a decent shelter, but she was still slightly wet from the water that dripped from the branches above. Looking at her fire, she saw it burned very low, its embers glowing faintly. She tossed a few sticks on, needing to feel the reassuring warmth of the fire. What on Middle Earth was that all about? What could have caused such a feeling, from two different sources no less. At lot of things needed explaining, but she would find no answers now. The sticks had sparked into flames, and the comforting heat warmed her face. She was still very tired, and she could tell dawn was still hours away. With unsettled nerves, she drifted back to sleep.
Dawn came with out further incident. As the sun's first rays touched the landscape, Lúthien felt a familiar, yet troubling, sensation. Her eyes fluttered open, blinking against the rising sun. The orcs were returning. Lúthien sat up, focusing on her senses. Had they crossed the river during the night? They must have, because they were approaching from her side of the river. They were growing steadily closer. They must be riding those creatures. She continued to think as she woke Gilleth. Had they gone all the way to the mountains to get around the river? It was possible. She had to hand it to them, they were certainly determined. It was unfortunate, though, that they were determined to kill her.
Packing her belongings, and a bit of wood ash, she prepared Gilleth to leave. She placed her saddle and reins on and attached the travel sac. Jumping up into the saddle, she spurred Gilleth northward. She smirked in amusement as she thought about how furious Ishkrut would be when they arrived to find her gone. Lúthien allowed herself a bit of mirthful laughter as the sun warmed her face with its life-giving rays. The day continued with out further incident. It was a fair day. They traveled at a fairly swift pace for some hours. It was midday before they stopped for rest and food. Lúthien gave Gilleth some of the fruits and vegetables she had collected the previous day before having some herself. While Gilleth grazed and drank, Lúthien searched for some more ingredients for her soap. To her delight, she stumbled upon a bees' nest. To her dismay, she literally stumbled upon it, and had to run from a swarm of angry bees. Apparently, the nest had been knocked down somehow.
Lúthien was forced to wait at least an hour before attempting to go back to the nest. Now that the bees had been disturbed and angered, they would be quick to attack. After a bit more than an hour, Lúthien crept back to the place where she found the next. She stayed a distance away, using the flint stones to make a small fire from dried grass. She blew the fire out before approaching the nest with the smoking embers on the tip of her father's sword. The bees, reacting to the smoke, soon became passive to her presence. Using the sword, she cut a bit of the honey laden honeycomb away. A bit of honey would be a wonderful treat for her and Gilleth. She only needed a little bit for her soap. The bees' wax would be an important ingredient, too. Mentally thanking the bees for the wax and honey, she made her way back to the clearing where she had left Gilleth, licking honey off her fingers.
She now had every ingredient she would need to make her soap. All she needed was a bit of water, and that was found easily enough. While Gilleth continued to graze and restore her strength, Lúthien made another fire to mix the ingredients of her soap. Using smooth stones from the ground, she ground the flower blossoms into a smooth paste. Using her father's sword, she cut open the bulbs on the plant she had collected the day before, dripping the liquid inside onto a broad lead. Using the broad leaf, she mixed the paste, wood ash, some honey, and water together with the liquid to make a fragrant mess. Pouring as much honey from the honeycomb as she could, she held the wax over the fire, softening it until it was pliable. She then proceeded to mix the wax with the ingredients on the leaf. The result was a moist greyish blob. Satisfied with her work, she wrapped it in the cloth of the ruined dress she had used to make her raft. She had a feeling the dress still had a few uses, so she had packed it. Lúthien smiled. By the time the wax cooled and the excess moisture was soaked up by the cloth, she'd have a new bar of soap. Given, she didn't have any milk to add to it, but she was sure it would turn out just fine.
Satisfied, now, that she'd be properly clean by the time she reached Rivendel, she mounted Gilleth and continued heading north. It would be some hours before they stopped again. They remainder of the day passed with out occurrence. Lúthien ate a dinner of vegetables and a fruit while riding Gilleth, not finding it important enough to actually stop. She wanted to reach Rivendel by the next night, if at all possible. She had a feeling it was very possible if they continued at their current pace. That reminded her. She should clean herself up well before arriving. She wanted to make as good of an impression as she could. This would be her first time walking amongst elves.
The day grew late, and the sun began to set in the west. Lúthien decided to stop at the next water source. It wasn't too long before she had run into River Loudwater. She had heard it before she had actually seen it. She had only to follow her ears to find it. Dismounting, Lúthien felt her stomach twist in excitement. After this night, she would finally reach Rivendel. Lúthien stroked Gilleth's head.
"Tonight, my dear friend, we both shall have a good grooming."
Gilleth wickered in response. Lúthien slipped Gilleth's bridle and saddle from her.
"You will be first."
Taking Gilleth to the water's edge, she began to wash her thoroughly. When Gilleth was completely clean, Lúthien set her loose.
"Try to stay clean, my friend. I would like to do something special with you once I am clean as well."
Gilleth snorted in response before wandering off on her own to graze. Now it was Lúthien's turn. She rummaged through the travel sac, pulling out the soap she had made earlier that day. Just as she expected, it was now hardened and ready to be used. Walking back to the water, Lúthien began to slip out of her mother's dress. Once she was fully unclothed, she slipped into the chilling water. With a violent shiver and a slight cry of complaint, she began to clean herself from head to toe. She worked quickly, very much wanting to be out of the cold water as soon as possible. Despite her rush to get out of the water, she was very thorough, making sure to clean herself very well. Once she was clean, she wrung her hair out as thoroughly as possible. Then she proceeded to dry herself using the same cloth as before.
Once dry, she searched through the travel sac, pulling out a burgundy dress. It was a fairly lovely dress, a deep scarlet red with darker red trim. She would wear that tomorrow before arriving at Rivendel. Tonight, she would wear the same brown dress. Slipping back into her mother's brown dress, she slung the wet cloth over a low hanging tree branch. There was little daylight left, and she would need to sleep with that cloth by nightfall. Reaching for the horses' supply bag, she called Gilleth over. Gilleth complied, trotting over to her. Lúthien began to comb through Gilleth's wet mane. When it was smooth and knot free, she began to weave it into an intricate braid.
"My friend, you will be the most beautiful mare in all of Rivendel." Lúthien said, smiling. "You may even catch the eye of a handsome young stallion." she said, her voice suggestive.
Gilleth protested, backing up as if to escape Lúthien's words.
"Do not move! You will ruin the braid!" Lúthien reprimanded. A smile tugged at her lips. "Though you deny it, now, I believe you would not feel so adamant should the handsome stallion catch your eye as well."
Gilleth snorted in protest, but did nothing more.
"We will see, then, my dear friend." She said, letting her voice trail off meaningfully.
Finishing the braid, Lúthien looked around. She groaned in frustration as she noticed she had forgotten the hair ribbon she planned to use. It sat just inside the travel sac, barely out of her reach. If she let go of Gilleth's mane, the braid would fall apart. Stretching out her leg, she picked up the ribbon between her toes, still maintaining her hold on Gilleth's braid. Bringing her foot to her hand, she grasped the ribbon and tied it securely to the end of the braid. She stepped back to admire her handy work.
"You are more beautiful than usual. I hadn't thought that to be possible."
Gilleth whinnied, bobbing her head towards Lúthien.
"I do not tell you these things to embarrass you. I say them because they are true. Who should you be embarrassed for, anyhow? There is no one but us, dear Gilleth."
Gilleth nickered in response, but said nothing more. With out further procrastination, Lúthien set to work on Gilleth's tail, brushing and braiding it in another intricate braid. When she was done, a playful smile played on her face. She let out a gasp, as if something astonishing had happened. Gilleth looked to her questioningly.
"Who is this beautiful filly? I would bet every good-looking steed from all over Middle Earth would fight against tremendous odds just to see her! I think there-" Lúthien was cut short as Gilleth shoved her, knocking her to the earth. Gilleth neighed down at her loudly, pulling her lip back. Lúthien looked up at her with a smile.
"So you may tease me, but I may not tease you?" Gilleth neighed loudly again. "Alright, my friend. I apologize." Lúthien said, still smiling good-naturedly. "Though I can not help but wonder when the day will come that I will hear the pitter-patter of tiny hooves." She said, smiling still as she picked herself off the ground. Gilleth nickered at her, lowering her head and pulling her ears back slightly. Lúthien's eyed widened.
"There is a difference! I have no child because I cannot find love!" Gilleth nickered at her, again, though with more amusement. Lúthien blushed deeply, her porcelain cheeks stained crimson. "I cannot believe you would suggest such a thing."
Gilleth nickered softly, motioning with her head and making various throat noises. Lúthien regarded her as she spoke, the shock in her face fading to something similar to sadness. Once Gilleth had fallen silent, it was Lúthien's turn to speak.
"You are right. We are not so different, you and I. We are both well beyond the normal age for marriage and children, yet we have none. What if we never find what we are looking for, never find love?" Gilleth nodded her head. "Yes. We will always have each other. Though I had always hoped to see you bear beautiful colts and foals." Gilleth grunted. A long moment of silence passed. "Gilleth?" Gilleth looked at her, acknowledging her. "Let us make a pact. If, by the time we are both at the end of our fertility, we have not found love, then we will forsake love and bear offspring for the sake of each other."
They stared at each other for a long while, lingering in silence. Gilleth came forward, nudging Lúthien gently with her nose. Lúthien smiled, wrapping her arms around her neck. "Then it is a deal."
The rest of the night passed quietly. Gilleth grazed while Lúthien ate her fair share of fruits and vegetables. She looked in her travel sac, silently hoping tomorrow truly would be their last day of traveling. They were running low on food. Much of what she had gathered days ago was either eaten already or beginning to spoil. The fruits, especially, were beginning to go bad. Lúthien had decided to eat all she could tonight, so as not to waste any. Even if she was not particularly hungry, chiefly because of the agreement with Gilleth, she knew the energy would serve her well in the future.
It was true that Lúthien didn't feel very hungry. Thinking about what she had agreed to made her feel somewhat ill. Though, it soothed her to know she still had years upon years before she would have to own up to her promise. Hopefully, by then, she would find love and not have to forsake it. Lúthien smiled, despite herself. Gilleth would have to face the consequences of that promise years before she would. Lúthien found that somehow comforting. Perhaps if Gilleth could find happiness in having children with out love, then she could do the same.
Feeling a bit better about her situation, she let herself drift out of her thoughts. She finally noticed how deep in her thoughts she had been as she realized the sun had already set. She quickly set to work, building a fire and preparing to bed for the night. Gilleth had already beaten her to it, laying down to rest close to her side. Once a fire was built, she settled down, simply letting the flames warm her as its shadows danced across her face. Tonight would be her last night alone. Tomorrow night, she would be in Rivendel. That simple fact played in her mind over and over, making the butterflies inside her flutter restlessly. She could not recall ever being so nervous. She had often dreamed of being amongst elves, making friends, learning their language and culture, and maybe even living in their cities as though she was one of them. Tomorrow almost felt like that dream would come true. She hoped very much that her dreams would not become a nightmare, and that the elves were as wonderful as she had always been told.
Throwing a few more sticks on the fire, she stood and walked to the cloth hanging on a tree branch. It was still slightly moist, but it was good enough. It would dry soon enough by the fire. Taking it down, she sat near the fire once more. Pulling the cloth over herself, she settled down for the night. A content smile lingered on her face as she drifted off to sleep. Tonight, she would dream of wonderful elves and their beautiful cities.
Lúthien found herself in darkness once more. She felt the fear again, such strong fear. She felt the same, watchful eyes upon her. Though, this time it was more than one pair. Several pairs of eyes were on her, watching her from every angle. She felt afraid, helpless, and violated. There was no where to run, no where to hide. They came forth, shadows from blackness. They circled her, coming from every angle. Her knees felt weak from fear, her heart felt weak. The fear was strong, making her feel as though it was better to give up on life and let death come rather than let those creatures reach her. She fought against the tugging darkness, willing herself to be strong. Why she should be strong, she did not know. Perhaps because giving something up as precious as life was not an option. Then it came to her. She would fight. But how? Then she saw it, hanging at her side as if it had always been there. Her father's sword. Taking it up, she faced the dark shadows.
"Though I do fear you, I will not stand down! I will not give in to my fear, and I will not give in to you! If you want my life, then you must take it from me with force!" She pointed the sword to the shadows, who had paused in their approach. "I will fight for my life as long as I have life to fight with!"
Her words were strong and bold, echoing in the dark. The creatures drew their swords, just as dark and evil as they. The shadows came at her, and she fought. The sound of metal against metal sounded in her ears, ringing with the clarity of bells. These were the bells of war, and they would sound as long as she still held breath. Dodging and darting, she fought off the creatures with a skill she did not know she possessed. Matching blade for blade, she fought them two and three at a time. The fear in her heart had grown into courage, the kind of courage that knew no pain, no fear, no fatigue. It was the kind of courage borne of desperation. It filled her to the brim, and she drank from it ravenously.
Then it happened. She struck one of the creatures. It screeched a horrible sound, its tatters of shadows fading into nothing. Then it was gone. Soon another fell, then another, until only one stood left. Though it looked no different from the others, she knew it was the same one from before. It had remained back as the others fought. Now it walked forward, reaching out to her. She swung at it, slicing it through the middle. This time, though, it did not fade into nothingness. Her sword went through it, as if it was not really there. She swung again and again, becoming panicked and desperate to destroy this last one. She backed up and it followed her, matching her step for step. Then, just as swiftly as last time, it reached out and grabbed her. The darkness faded away into red fire as the eye bore into her once more. The eye was larger, the fire burned hotter, and the pain of her soul being torn away was so much greater. She saw the eye in all its evil, and then… a ring? A piercing pain in her left shoulder made her cry out. At the sound of her pained cry, the fiery eye burned brighter, as if feeding off her agony.
This was all a dream. It had to be. Lúthien tried to rouse herself from sleep, but to no avail. The eye's gaze held her firm. It would not let her wake, would not let her go. It seemed to hold of her for an eternity, taking sadistic pleasure in her suffering. The pain never faded, never lessened. She felt as though her wounds were being continuously reopened and her pain constantly refreshed. It was torture of her body, torture of her mind, and torture of her soul. She fought to wake herself, trying to end the nightmare. She could not break the eye's hold, no matter how she tried. She called out for help, the only name she could think to call. She called for Gilleth. The fiery eye burned erratically, as if angered. She called out again, and soon felt the eye's gaze falter, saw its fire fading away, and felt the reassuring realm of wakefulness come upon her. Gilleth had saved her once again.
Lúthien opened her eyes, finding Gilleth standing over her, nudging her urgently. The pain in her body remained, as did the fear. Though, she soon realized why the fear remained. A familiar sensation came to her. The orcs were near, very near. In fact, they would be upon her in mere minutes. Lúthien jolted to her feet, crying out in pain. She reached up to grip her shoulder. When she pulled her hand back, her eyes widened in fear. Blood covered her palm. She tore away at the shoulder of her dress, searching for a wound. She was shocked to find none. Not allowing herself any time to think about the strange occurrence, she grabbed up her makeshift blanket, father's sword, and the travel sac, ignoring the steadily fading pain. She would have no time to saddle Gilleth. Hurriedly strapping on her father's sword, she stuffed the cloth and horses' supplies hastily into the travel sac, she mounted Gilleth bareback.
"Ride, my friend! Ride!"
Gilleth took off in an instant, sprinting away from the danger she knew was coming. She had smelled the danger when it got close and had tried for minutes to rouse Lúthien. It was several hours passed dawn, and very unlike Lúthien to still be asleep. She had always been one to wake anytime from an hour before or after dawn. When Lúthien had began to call out her name, Gilleth could her the pain and fear in her voice. She could also smell blood on her, which made her worry. That was when she began to nudge Lúthien more violently, until she finally woke. Now that they were steadily drawing farther from danger, Gilleth began to speak to Lúthien.
"I do not know how I was hurt, Gilleth. I have no wound." She said, still trying to make sense of it all. "I had felt the pain in my dream, but dreams aren't real. They can't hurt you, can they?" Gilleth did not answer.
Lúthien wasn't too sure anymore. The pain in her past few dreams had been real enough, but never before had she bled. And what of the eye? It refused to let her wake. Had it known danger was so near and not wanted her to wake and escape it? Could dreams kill? She looked to her palm. The blood was now dry, a dark stain against her pale skin. The shoulder of her dress was hard with dried blood as well. She desperately needed answers. Elves were wise. Perhaps, when she reached Rivendel, someone would have the answers she needed. Now, more than ever, she needed to see the elves.
They rode on for hours, stopping a bit after midday. Lúthien had wanted to stop near the Loudwater to clean up and change her dress. She washed off her hand and chest, wiping away the dried blood, before slipping into her mother's rouge dress. She fussed with the hips some. She had broken in the brown dress a bit, making it a little more comfortable to wear. Now she would have to deal with the uncomfortable tightness of another dress until it, too, stretched out a bit. Lúthien looked to Gilleth. She found she was very happy that Gilleth's braids had remained perfect through everything. The only problem was the tiny handprint of blood that marred Gilleth's left side. She quickly cleaned it away, making Gilleth's appearance perfect once more.
Lúthien's hair, on the other hand, was quite shabby. She hadn't brushed it for days, leaving it down for the wind to muss and tangle. It was now dry from the night before, and in desperate need of brushing. Taking Gilleth's brush, she began to comb out her hair from tip to top. It was the only way to brush through all of her hair, one bit at a time. Gilleth snorted at her, shaking her head a bit. Lúthien smiled at her sheepishly.
"I don't see why I cannot use the same brush as you. We are already more alike than a horse and human should probably be allowed to. Aside from that, we are best friends, are we not?" Gilleth bobbed her head. "I see no reason to tease me for using your brush, then." Lúthien said, smiling.
Lúthien finished combing through her fine hair, tying it in a sloppy, but tight, braid. She did not plan to have her hair in a braid upon reaching Rivendel. She simply just wanted to keep it from becoming windswept for the rest of their ride. Their midday break was peaceful, if not short. Lúthien fed Gilleth a number of the vegetables, having a few for herself. There was now only a few vegetables left. It would be enough for the night. If they did not reach Rivendel, she would have to forage for more food. Gilleth grazed and rested. Lúthien allowed herself a brief, though uneasy, nap. To be honest, she was now a bit afraid to go to sleep. Until she had found answers, she did not know for sure whether her next nap would be her last.
Before too long, they were off once more. Lúthien had found she was much more comfortable riding bareback. She had almost no discomfort. Her ride for the past few days had left her with a sore rear by the end of the day. Her only discomfort from riding bareback was the stiffness that came from not moving very much for hours at a time. Lúthien soon found herself wondering what had even possessed her to use a saddle in the first place. Perhaps it was because it was the only way she knew how to ride. Now that she knew how comfortable bareback was, she would never use a saddle again. She suddenly found herself wondering it a saddle had caused Gilleth discomfort as well.
"Gilleth? Was it ever uncomfortable for you to wear a saddle?" Gilleth snorted in response. "Why did you never say anything, then?" Lúthien asked, a bit upset. Gilleth snorted and grunted, throwing her head to the left in a gesture. "Well I will never saddle you again. It will be more comfortable for both of us." Gilleth made a variety of throat noises, showing she strongly agreed with that decision.
They were silent for a while, simply riding on towards their intended destination. Lúthien finally broke the silence. "Thank you for everything. You are a better friend than I ever could have asked for." Gilleth said nothing, causing Lúthien to continue. "This morning… you saved me. You saved me from the orcs and you saved me from my dream." Gilleth still remained silent, so Lúthien continued on. "My dream was no dream. It was a nightmare. I tried so hard to wake from it, but I could not. It was frightening and it hurt. You saved me. When I could not escape it on my own, I called out for you, and the nightmare faded away. It was because of you." Gilleth was silent for a while more until Lúthien thought she would say nothing at all. Lúthien knew she had been listening, because her ears were swiveled back to hear her. Then she whinnied, ever so gently. Lúthien smiled, a tear sliding down her cheek as she wrapped her arms around Gilleth's neck. "I love you, too."
They rode on in companionable silence for the rest of the day. When there was but only slightly more than an hour left of daylight, they were stopped by the Loudwater. It barred their path northward. Lúthien considered for a while what to do. She had a strong feeling that Rivendel was just beyond those waters. The feeling tugged at her, and she knew she should follow it. The problem was that she did no want to arrive in Rivendel soaking wet. She decided her best option would be to follow it into the mountains and go around it. With that decided, they headed east. Gilleth proceeded at a comfortable pace, having ran for hours, she was well entitled to a relaxed speed. Lúthien was worried they would not reach the mountains by nightfall and the terrain would be too treacherous to travel at night. To her delight, they reached the mountains with some daylight still left. To her further joy, the terrain wasn't as hazardous as she had thought it might be. There even appeared to be a sort of path. The sun was setting, but being on the west side of the mountains, they had enough light to travel by for at least a while.
Gilleth walked with ease over the path they had chosen. The thought came to Lúthien that perhaps this was a common path for anyone traveling to and from Rivendel. They truly were close. Lúthien let her hair out of its brain. The wind was calm and their pace was slow. She also did not want to be seen with such a careless braid. It would not do well for a first impression. She ran her fingers through her hair, undoing the last of the braid. It fell down her back neatly, reaching down to tumble over Gilleth's sides. The sun had disappeared, but the sky to the west still held a tint of blue as the black of night spread over the land.
Gilleth stopped quite suddenly, and Lúthien could see exactly why. Below them was the most beautiful sight she had ever seen. Even in her most wonderful dreams, she had never imagined anything like this. Directly below them was the magical glow of an elfin city, its lights shining like jewels against the night. Words to describe its beauty escaped her. She had no words. This was a dream come to life. This was the elfin city of Rivendel.
Cerulean Sage
"Wow. This was a long chapter. I could have kept going, but I figured I'll continue on in another chapter. I'm not sure if I can think of anything in particular that might be confusing or need explaining. If you have any questions, I'll be glad to explain, though.
On the advice of elven-princess3212003 I will try to add the link to my picture, even though the scene it's supposed to be doesn't happen yet. It's supposed to be the meeting between Lúthien and Legolas. Its significance is that he is the first Fellowship member she meets. It's not really intended to be anything particularly romantic. They are quite close, but that was just out of my need to have them both in the picture. Also, it is best viewed in its smaller form. When enlarged, it shows every tiny mistake with great detail. Thank you, elven-princess3212003, for your help."
www.angelfire. com/clone/3menchisaga/images/Scan10011.JPG