b Legolas' POV /b
Yet another feast I am obligated to attend. It is one of my many duties as the Heir. I stand on the dais with my father, talking to him as I do every day. Our bodyguards, though watching for any threat to our safety, join actively in the conversation. The three of them tease me about the i ellyth /i making eyes at me, but it scarcely bothers me, for I have become accustomed to it. I will be expected to dance with the i ellyth /i , but I will wait a while longer.
Morion jabs me playfully in the ribs and winks, looking pointedly over my shoulder. I turn and see what he has been looking at – or rather, who. It is an i elleth /i I know by the name of Amiriel. She is a healer in the palace, and a skilled one from what I have seen and heard. She has tended to some of my own injuries in the past; an arrow through the thigh, the slash of the sword on the arm or chest. Her fingers caused the least amount of additional pain as possible. But that wouldn't stop her from causing me pain by applying pressure to my wound as soon as I tried to leave the healing wing before I was well enough.
She is fair; with her delicate features, slender figure and thigh length golden/blonde hair. Though, I rarely see her wearing it down with delicate braids pulled away from her face. She typically wears it in a long plait pinned to her head, but if I had my way, I would have her wear her hair down more often. It brings out her features best.
She and I speak seldom, as her pathway of duty has a different course compared to mine. When we do speak it is when either a fellow warrior or I have been wounded. But I have to date never spoken to her at a celebration, nor danced with her. Would she willingly allow me to lead her in a romantic waltz? I am well aware of the effect I have on i ellyth /i , but Amiriel does not seem to be affected by it. Perhaps she has control over the emotions she displays; I can share the experience in that field. How many times, while she was so innocently bandaging my chest, did I have to restrain myself from pulling her onto the bed with me? It is enough to undo me; wisps of hair that escaped from her braid framing her face, her eyes and hands examining my body for any injury, and her absentmindedly humming a tune to herself.
Ah, she is looking at me now! I can read surprise on her face as she realizes I am looking back at her. Does she think she is not worthy of my – sorry Morion? You say that I 'seem to be quite taken by her?' I smile to myself and at Amiriel, rewarded a smile from her in return. Well Morion, that is for me to know and for you to find out.
As Amiriel turns to some acquaintances of hers, I step down from the dais and make my way across the room to her. I see her sharp intake of breath when she sees me approaching her. That sends a thrill through my being; she is affected by me. Oh Valar, when has it mattered to much to me that an i elleth /i is attracted to me!? I am a pace from her when I stop and we look at each other.