DISCLAIMER: "The Lord of the Rings" belongs to JRR Tolkien (books) and
Peter Jackson/New Line Cinema (movies), and nothing I can ever write or
cook up can compare to their genius. However, Armir of Rivendell, I am
happy to say, is my own original creation.
Please do not flame me for giving Elladan a daughter. I am well aware of the real members of Elrond's family. Armir is merely my own addition to the world of Tolkien, and I've done the best that I could to make her fit in as seamlessly as possible with the Canon characters.
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
This is my second LOTR fan fiction, and I hope it will be as good (if not better) than the first! This is a SEQUEL to my first work, "THE SACRIFICE". I would really recommend your reading "The Sacrifice" (unless you have already) before diving into this, because otherwise the events will just be too difficult to understand. :D
Anyhow, let's get on with it! I can write longer author notes later when there is more to say. . . ;p
HAPPY READING!
* * *
A LOVE THAT BINDS
PROLOGUE
TA 3019, FEBRUARY
It has been many years since the kingdom of Rivendell had last fallen into a state of such heavy grief and shared mourning. There was not a dry eye or cheerful heart left in the entire realm as the tragic news spread far and wide among the Elven communities. These were horrible reports that announced the death of Lord Elrond's beloved granddaughter, Lady Armir, the young princess who had touched the lives of so many with the light of her sweet virtue and sincere kindness.
Though all the elves of Imladris took part in lamenting the kingdom's loss, none was saddened more than the Lord of Rivendell himself, the loving grandfather who had been closest to the elf-maiden, having raised her and cared for her her entire life. It troubled his subjects to see their usually tranquil master distraught over the passing of the child he loved so dearly, but they could do nothing but sympathize with the elf-lord's reasonable pain.
A gloomy sun flickered in the overcast sky on the day Armir was retuned to her home to be laid to her final rest. The mood that pervaded the Last Homely House and its surrounding forests and settlements was uneasy and disturbed, echoing the despair nature itself expressed in the unhappy whispers of the cold wind, the stillness of the trees, and silence of the birds.
It was on that gloomy afternoon that Master Elrond paced outside the doors of the healers' chamber, waiting for the end to the preparations his granddaughter's body had to undergo before finally proceeding to her final ceremonies. When at last the healers and handmaidens were finished with their work, the doors were opened and the servants bowed their Lord inside, then immediately made their exit in order to give him privacy.
Elrond entered the dimly lit room and slowly approached the bed in the center where his beloved Armir lay. His heart wrenched with fresh grief as he forced himself to look upon the sight of her lifeless form. Her bruises and wounds had been cleansed to make it appear as though she had not been touched by a blade or blow at all. Her long, raven hair had been brushed out till it shone like fine silk, and she was now dressed in a regal white gown that made her look like the lovely angel she truly was.
Elrond smiled and gently stroked the fair maiden's sweet face. Her beauty was radiant enough to conquer even the powers of death. It has been days since her spirit departed this world, and still her cheeks have not lost its rosy glow, nor had the smile faded from her lips.
Just then, he heard a soft voice speak from the doorway, interrupting his thoughts.
"Begging your pardon, Master Elrond . . . "
He turned his head to gaze at the servant girl who had come up timidly to stand behind him.
"Here are some things we had taken from the Lady, Sire." the young elf said meekly. She bowed her head and held out her hands to the elf- lord. "I am certain you would like to keep them with you."
Elrond smiled weakly and nodded as he accepted the items the elf handed over to him. "Diola lle (Thank you)." he murmured, as the elf curtsied and left the room once again.
Elrond gazed down at the three articles that had been deposited in his hands. One was a jeweled hair comb that had belonged to Armir's mother, Nurréien. It had been given to her by her father on her fiftieth birthday, and was his granddaughter's most prized possession.
The second was a magnificently fashioned pendant studded with jewels that hung on a delicate mithril chain. As he held it up for closer inspection, he was able to identify what the crafted runic symbol meant-- forever. Realization soon dawned upon Elrond as he recalled Elladan's report of how Armir and Legolas Thranduillion had become lovers over the Fellowship's journey. This exquisite necklace must have been the Prince of Mirkwood's token of affection for his granddaughter.
The third object was something Elrond did not expect to see. It was a small white flower, so fair and immaculate it looked as though it had just been plucked from what must have been a luxuriant flower garden. It was a rare beauty indeed, but the wise elf-lord did not have any trouble identifying the name of this sweet blossom.
"Armir . . ." he whispered in wonder and sudden excitement, touching the petals delicately.
He then turned his eyes back towards the elf that lay motionless on the bed, the elf who had been named after this beautiful and marvelous flower. A flower that held much power and many secrets underneath its simple exterior.
Now moved by a sudden hope, Elrond stepped back to Armir's side. Very carefully and gently, he returned his granddaughter's precious possessions to her. He slid the hair comb into her raven tresses. He fastened the necklace around her slim, milky white neck, resting the pendant just above her breast. And lastly, he slipped the flower in between the graceful hands that lay together over her stomach.
As he stepped away once again to behold the lovely sight, Elrond's heart leaped. All of a sudden there seemed to be a visible change in the way she lay there, frozen in her lifelessness. It was as though her fair skin seemed to glow gently for a brief few seconds, shining a soft light on the dark room for a fleeting moment before fading into nothingness once again. Trembling with anticipation, Elrond moved close to Armir, then planted a soft kiss on his granddaughter's forehead.
He felt pleasant warmth underneath his lips.
At once the Lord of Rivendell smiled, his spirit suddenly flooding with a joy that cast all his earlier sorrows away. He had thought so, and now he knew he was right. He also knew then what he had to do next.
The young princess' body was not laid in the tomb that day as had originally been planned. Instead, Lord Elrond had ordered that she be laid on a bed, and then placed in a small shrine located in the middle of the forest bordering the grounds of the Last Homely House. He never explained why he bid this, and no one questioned the peculiar decision of the wise elf, not even Armir's father, who returned to the Rangers shortly after the mourning period for his daughter was over.
That was how it came to be that Lady Armir of Rivendell became known to her people as their "sleeping princess", for in her perpetual loveliness and radiance it truly seemed as though she were not dead at all, but was merely in a peaceful slumber from which she cannot be awakened. The elves did not fear the dead, nor was there anything to fear from a creature so beautiful, so they visited Armir's open grave constantly, be it to offer flowers at her shrine or simply lay their eyes on the enchanting maiden they loved so dearly in life and even unto her death.
What the elves did not know, however, was that their Lady was not as lost to them as they thought. As she lay there in her rest, they were unaware of the fact that she really was just waiting. Waiting for the arrival of an elf-- her prince-- who would one day come back to her. With his love, he will help her reclaim the life that had been taken, a life that was to be returned by the Valar who had blessed the young maiden and her lover with grace unlike any ever seen in Middle Earth.
* * *
Chapter One - MEMORIES
TA 3019, JUNE
Prince Legolas Thranduillion's eyes shone with joviality as he clapped his hands to the beat of the lively songs resonating throughout the grand ballroom of the royal palace. He watched the couples dancing in perfect timing to the beat of the music around the dance floor and smiled to himself. They seemed to be having so much fun, he almost ached with a desire to jump right in and join in their merriment.
As though he had read these very same thoughts, Gimli elbowed the elf from where he sat beside him at the table.
"Go on, Lad." the dwarf urged with a twinkle in his mirthful eyes. "You know your heart longs for it."
Legolas shook his head, a little taken aback by the suggestion. "I am content enough to just watch." he lied with a shrug.
"Come now!" Gimli encouraged. "No need to be bashful. Tis not as though it would be too difficult to get a partner to dance with, anyway." He smirked and nodded towards the opposite end of the room. "It appears to me that half the lasses in Gondor are already more than eager to fill in the part."
Alerted by his friend's words, Legolas brought his gaze to the direction he had gestured to. Sure enough, he caught sight of a group of some pretty maidens, noblewomen of Gondor perhaps, all of them with their eyes aimed completely at him. The moment they noticed the Elven prince looking over their way, they began to titter with elation and whisper excitedly amongst themselves.
Legolas groaned softly and slumped down in his seat, hunching over slightly to hide his flushing face from view. Ever since he arrived at the White City, the mortal women have been acting strangely around him. His presence had the queerest effect particularly on the younger maidens, who would often stop to gawk at him whenever he'd pass by, and every time he would try to speak to them or merely offer them a smile, they would either turn red or giggle, and then and hurry off, leaving the clueless elf-prince confused and embarrassed. These reactions made Legolas entirely self- conscious and uncomfortable, especially since he did not really know what was causing them. He had not been around mortal women often or long enough to understand what went on inside their heads.
"Must they always stare at me like that?" he mumbled, half to himself and half to the companion who sat beside him gnawing away happily at a roasted goat's leg.
"It is just a simple touch of girlish infatuation." Gimli explained good-humouredly, giving the elf a pat on the back. "Best get used to it. It seems that all the unmarried ladies of Gondor have taken a fancy to your big blue eyes, long golden locks and those attractive buttocks."
"Mani (What)?!" Legolas exclaimed, eyes widening in horror, as his mischievous friend burst into peals of raucous laughter.
"You know, for an elf who is nearing three thousand years of age, you are still quite incompetent in matters involving the fair sex, my friend." Gimli teased. "Up until now, you still do not know how to tell when a lady has been taken by you?"
Legolas could only stare at him in open-mouthed exasperation before finally just shaking his head and turning away. Then, he lowered his face to stare glumly at the half-consumed plate of food on the table before him. He did not have the chance to remain in this silence for a minute when Gimli spoke again, though in a much more sober tone this time.
"You still miss her."
The elf lifted his head back up slowly, unsurprised that the dwarf was able to realize what was bothering him so instantly. He sighed and nodded, avoiding his friend's scrutinizing gaze.
"Every moment." he whispered.
The earlier jollity now gone from his face, Gimli turned to Legolas and placed a hand on his shoulder. "It has been over three months, my friend." he said gently. He did not have to say anything more; they both were aware of what this reminder implied.
"Three months or three thousand years, it does not matter." Legolas said firmly. "I will never stop loving her and thinking of her."
"I am not saying you should stop any of those things. I myself still think of her on occasion, for I too cared for her dearly." Gimli told him kindly. "I just think you should stop longing so much for a past that can never return. All too often you lose yourself in memories of her and forget to look to the future that can still be lived. You said you would move on, did you not?"
"I did." Legolas mumbled. "But that does not include opening up my heart to others. I can never give what has been sworn to one love alone."
The elf then held up his hand to silence the dwarf before he could add anything else.
"Please, Gimli." he said softly. "Things are hard enough, and I do not want to ruin the joy of this celebration by pondering on matters that will only bring back grief."
Gimli sighed and nodded. "You are right." he agreed. "I am sorry. I will not speak of it again."
Legolas smiled back to show that the apology was accepted, and the two friends fell back into comfortable silence. Gimli focused his attention back to his meal, and Legolas went back to watching the dancers.
Nevertheless, the wistfulness did not leave the young prince's eyes as he stared out at the ballroom floor where dozens of couples continued to waltz energetically to the upbeat music. Though his own mood was growing rather bleak, the atmosphere of his surroundings remained wholly bright and jovial, as the citizens and guests of Gondor basked in a rejoicing many had thought they would ever be able to see in the White City ever again.
This evening celebrated a glorious event indeed, for earlier in the day the newly crowned King Elessar wed a remarkable woman who was now a Queen of Men, though prior to this blessed union she had been a princess of the Elven race. Never in their lives had the people of Gondor seen such amazing beauty grace their lands, and it warmed their hearts very much to see their beloved king so happy with a wife that would surely bring even greater years of prosperity to their rejuvenated kingdom.
Legolas smiled as he watched his two old friends, both radiant with overflowing joy, as they stood out in the crowd of other couples gliding across the floor. He had never been gladder for Aragorn and Arwen; after all that they had sacrificed and suffered just to come this far in their relationship, no one was more deserving of a blissful life than they.
Still, as much as he wanted to go through this night without any negative thoughts or feelings in his heart, Legolas could not help but sense an undeniable twinge of envy. The happy sparkle in Aragorn's eyes as he gazed at his wife with so much love and adoration was exactly how he had hoped to look at his own bride on the day of their wedding-- a day that never came to pass, and never will.
The smile faded on Legolas' face as the familiar pain began to throb in his chest once more. Though in time he learned to drown out his sorrow for his lost love, it would still manage to come back to him in certain moments of loneliness.
Though he tried valiantly not so show it to his concerned comrades, Legolas missed Armir terribly. Many nights he would dream of her, of her beautiful smile, her gentle voice, her sweet touch, and then end up waking in tears of a longing that can never be fulfilled. At times he would fall into states of depression and despair, wondering how he would make it to the next day without dying of the broken heart he still carried. But somehow he always recovered, and he then knew that somewhere out there, his beloved was still watching over him, giving him the strength to go on with his life like he had promised her he would.
As he kept his distant gaze out on the dance floor, the elf's thoughts unconsciously drifted off into another world, a world of fond memories where his beloved Armir was still safe in his embrace, and they both were filled with such happiness in each other's company that it seemed as though nothing could break them apart.
Just as it was meant to be . . .
* * *
"Legolas?"
He smiled and gazed down at the pretty face of the maiden walking alongside him. "Yes?" he asked, his loving worship for her evident even in the utterance of that one little word.
Armir looked up and returned his smile before snuggling her face back against the arm that was linked through hers. "Have you ever imagined what it would have been like if things between us had turned out differently from the way they are now?' she murmured, her gentle voice full of contentment.
"What do you mean by that, love?" Legolas inquired, before planting a kiss on the top of her head.
"I mean," Armir continued. "What do you think it would have been like if we had met each other under completely different circumstances? If we had not been under the burden of this quest and had instead gone through a normal courtship?"
"An interesting question." Legolas remarked, sliding his arm further around her as they continued their evening stroll through the woods of Lorien.
"Yes, and I expect an answer to it." Armir retorted, giggling slightly as his fingers lightly teased the side of her waist, tickling her. "How different do you think it would have been then?"
Legolas cocked his head to one side, pretending to think hard. "Well . . . I am not sure my imagination can stretch that far." he mused.
He grinned and stopped in his tracks, suddenly using both arms to pull her tightly against him. "But I believe I can be sure of one thing, though. In any alternative world or circumstance, you would not be any less wonderful than you are now."
He moved his hands to the sides of her face and leaned over to caress her soft lips with a gentle mouth. "And I would not be any less madly in love with you." he whispered in between kisses.
"Still . . ." Armir managed to say breathlessly when they finally parted. "It would have been nice if we had gotten a chance to know each other in a more customary, more romantic setting, do you not think so?" She trailed her fingers down the blond hair that cascaded over Legolas' shoulder. "Like a ball or some sort of social, perhaps?"
Legolas' eyes twinkled. "Given such a setting, do you think you would have paid me even the slightest bit of attention?" he teased. "Aragorn has told me many stories of you, my Lady, and how for years you rejected countless suitors who have tried in vain to win over your stubborn heart. Would my fate have been any different from theirs? Would you have treated me any better, much less accepted me?"
Armir smiled and shook her head. "I certainly would have been foolish not to." she murmured simply, reaching up to stroke his face adoringly.
Legolas smiled back and kissed her nose, then chuckled. "But Melamin, why dream of something ordinary when we already have something unique, and more special?" he pointed out, rubbing his hand against her back. "Besides, who says we cannot enjoy a normal life after this quest is over? We still have so much time ahead of us, time that we can spend together any way we wish."
Armir nodded and rested her head comfortably on his shoulder. "Yes." she said softly in concession. "I suppose you are right."
Sliding one arm around her waist, Legolas took her hand in his and held it against his chest. Then he began to lead her in a slow dance, swaying to an imaginary song only they could hear. Armir giggled as he led her into a spin, allowing to twirl gracefully under his arm before landing back in his embrace. As they continued their dance, she slid her arms around his neck, then burrowed her face back into his chest.
"I am so grateful I met you, Legolas." she whispered. "Everyday I have to thank the Valar for bringing you to me, because I cannot imagine what my life would have been like if you had not come."
"I feel the same way." Legolas told her sincerely. "It does not matter what trials we have to put up with before we truly find peace, because we will get there somehow-- together. I promise you."
He brought her hand to his lips, kissing it gently before gazing down at her with all the devotion in his heart shining in his eyes.
"The only thing that matters, my love, is that we found each other."
* * *
"Legolas? Legolas!"
The elf jerked his head and looked up with a start, abruptly pulled out of his daydream by the voice calling him. He blinked a few times to clear up his vision, which had been clouded over by the reverie he had unconsciously fallen into. It was then that he realized that the King of Gondor was standing beside his seat, kind eyes smiling down at him in amusement.
"Well, well." Aragorn said, shaking his head. "You seem to be pretty preoccupied, my friend. It took nearly a full minute this time before I was finally able to get your attention."
Legolas reddened slightly, feeling embarrassed at his being caught so unguarded. "Sorry." he mumbled. "Was just thinking about . . . something." He shook his head, regaining himself, and then offered his dear friend a warm smile. "Is there anything I can help you with, your Majesty?"
Aragorn laughed and gave the elf a light slap on the back. "I will have none of that, my friend!" he admonished. "Nothing must change between us, even in spite of all the new arrangements that have developed." He grinned. "After all, I will never be any different from that child who threw porridge all over you on our first meeting!"
Legolas joined in his laughter at this shared memory and nodded. "As you say, Mellonamin." he told him, feeling a wave of affection for the man whose friendship he treasured above all else, along with Gimli's.
"Anyhow," Aragorn continued, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "I merely wanted to inform you that a certain special guest has finally arrived, and is very eager to see you."
"Me?" Legolas repeated, confused for a few moments before realization dawned on him, and a smile brightened his face. He immediately rose from his seat. "Where?"
Aragorn smiled and nodded in the direction of the great oaken double doors of the banquet room. "He remains at the entrance with the rest of his entourage. I suppose he wishes for you to be the one to make the welcomes and show them to their seats."
After thanking the King profusely, Legolas excused himself and hastily made his way towards the entrance hall, anticipation quickening both his heart and his step. As soon as he reached the doors, his eyes beheld a sight he had greatly missed over the long months he had been away from home.
"Atar (Father)!" he called out, slipping through the crowd to get closer to the regal elf that stood waiting patiently to the side, surrounded by a handful of dressed-down guards.
The King of the Woodland Realm instantly turned at the sound of his voice. A happy smile lit up his handsome face and blue eyes as he caught sight of his son. He quickly crossed the distance between them and met the younger elf in a warm embrace.
"It is good to see you again, Legolas." he said in his characteristically gentle but strong voice, patting his child on the back affectionately before pulling away. "It brings me such great relief to finally be assured that you are indeed safe and sound."
"I have missed you, Ada." Legolas responded sincerely. "I am glad you were able to come."
Thranduil laughed. "Yes, well, like I told Aragorn earlier, I apologize for our late arrival." he said with a shake of his head. "There was just some unfinished business that needed to be taken care of before we could leave."
"I trust then that you had a good journey?"
"Even better than we had expected." Thranduil responded with a smile. "It is marvelous to see how many changes have developed so quickly over such a short time, ever since the fall of the Dark Lord."
He paused and placed a hand on Legolas' shoulder, squeezing it as he looked at him straight in the eye. "I am very pleased for you, Legolas." he told him meaningfully. "You have done well for yourself, and you do the whole Woodland Realm proud."
Legolas beamed and bowed his head. "Thank you, Father." he said humbly. "I am greatly honored just hearing you say that."
When he raised his head back up, he offered the Elven king an arm. "You must be famished by now, after such a long ride. Let me escort you to the banquet table so you may start with dinner."
But Thranduil held back and raised his hand. "A moment." he said, craning his head and looking back out into the hall past the doors. "We must yet wait for the other Mirkwood representatives to arrive. They said they would meet me here at the entrance."
Legolas frowned in puzzlement, knowing that, apart from his usual escort of bodyguards and attendants, his father usually chose to go to royal functions alone. "Representatives? Who . . .?"
Suddenly, a familiar voice called out to interrupt him, causing him to whirl around immediately.
"Legolas Greenleaf!"
Legolas' eyes widened as he spotted a pair of elves rushing over to join him and his father. One was a strapping he-elf with chestnut hair and cheery brown eyes, and the other an elegant elf-maiden with golden hair and dazzling green eyes.
"Firreon?! Vetilien?!" he exclaimed in delighted surprise.
"At your service Milord!" the male elf, Firreon, said with a laugh, reaching over to envelope Legolas in a brotherly hug.
"What are you doing here?!" was all Legolas could say, a cheek splitting smile growing on his face as his heart rejoiced with the presence of his two dearest friends from back home.
"Well, to see you of course!" the she-elf Vetilien answered, embracing the prince and planting a kiss on his cheek after Firreon backed away. "We have missed you terribly!"
"I suggested that they come along." Thranduil spoke up amidst the youngsters' happy reunion. "I guessed that you would be as eager to see them again as they have been to see you."
"Of course, we could still be wrong in assuming that much." Firreon joked merrily as always, punching Legolas lightly on the arm. "After all, his Highness is quite a famous hero now, being part of the company that brought down the Enemy and all."
"We have heard so much about your adventures back home, Legolas." Vetilien told him eagerly. "Needless to say, it is hard to distinguish what is fact and what is mere rumor, so you would simply must tell us all about it yourself."
"But first, let us see to dinner." Thranduil interrupted their chatter gently, taking his son by the shoulder. "Legolas is not going anywhere else anytime soon, so there will be plenty of time to catch up."
Legolas laughed and nodded. "Father is right. The night is still young." he agreed. "And now that you are here, I promise I will do my best to tell you all that you want to know."
With that, he gave the Elven King his arm and began to lead him towards the seats that have been reserved for the Mirkwood guests, and at the same time he gestured to his two friends to follow.
"Shall we?"
* * *
A half-hour later, Legolas was seated back at the banquet table, but this time there was no longer any opportunity for him to fall into solitary daydreams. Over dinner, his two friends had demanded to hear stories of his escapades with the Fellowship, and the elf even had to enlist the help of Gimli in answering all their eager questions.
At that moment, Firreon, who quickly hit it off with the dwarf, was listening avidly to his account of how he and Aragorn held back the horde of Uruks trying to penetrate the walls of Helm's Deep. Vetilien, however, had ears only for Legolas, and kept all her attention on him as he related the details of their ride through the Paths of the Dead.
After Legolas' story ended, Vetilien sighed and leaned back in her chair, shaking her head with a smile. "So much excitement and adventure, and in actually a very short span of time. You certainly have gone through a lot of battles and new experiences, haven't you?" she remarked. "Just like you have always wanted."
Legolas laughed lightly, then shrugged. "Yes." he agreed, a wistful look starting to grow in his azure eyes. "I must admit, the past months have indeed given me the most incredible, most fulfilling experience of my life."
A pause in their conversation came as Vetilien momentarily focused some attention back on her meal, and Legolas took the opportunity to run his gaze around the room. He spotted his father where he sat between Lord Celeborn and Master Elrond and smiled. The prince watched with fondness in his stare as his father conversed with the Lord of Rivendell, and was suddenly struck by the reminder of how happy he was to see him again, and how much he had missed his company. There was so much they needed to catch up on, so much he wanted to tell him about his experiences.
"He has missed you greatly too, you know."
Legolas turned his gaze back to Vetilien, unsurprised by how she was able to read his mind, as elves who had been childhood friends usually could. The maiden smiled and continued, her stunning green eyes looking at him with warm affection. "Everyone back at home has missed you."
She took his hand and squeezed it. "It is so good to know that the war is all over now, and you can finally return to Mirkwood with us." she said softly.
Legolas smiled back at his friend, though this time it took a little bit of effort. "Yes." he said with a sigh. "I have missed Mirkwood a lot myself. It would be nice to see home again."
He then grinned and nudged Vetilien's arm gently. "And now, my Lady, I believe it is your turn to share some of your stories with me." he told her. "Tell me, what has been going on in the woodlands while I have been away?"
Vetilien opened her mouth as though she meant to launch into lengthy speech as he requested, but she seemed to think better of it and stopped herself. Her eyes sparkled mischievously as she placed the napkin from her lap down on the table.
"I have a better idea."
Without waiting for Legolas to assist her, she pushed back her chair and got to her feet, much to the prince's surprise. She held out a hand to him and smiled brightly. "Will his Highness be so kind as to honor me with a dance?" she asked sweetly.
Legolas stared at the outstretched hand the elf offered him, his mind turned into a sudden blank by this abrupt invitation. "Uh . . ."
"Come on, Legolas! Please?" Vetilien coaxed. "Dance with me, and we can talk while we do so!" She wriggled her fingers at him coyly. "Will you make me beg like you did last time?"
Legolas finally laughed and shook his head. "You know very well that I never have, and never can refuse you anything, Arwenamin (my lady)." he said softly, getting up from his chair and taking her hand. He planted a kiss on her fingers and bowed. "It would give me great pleasure to dance with you."
"Nay, the pleasure is all mine." Vetilien told him with a smile, as he led her to the dance floor.
A mellow waltz began to play as they joined the other couples. There were fewer people on the floor now, giving Legolas and Vetilien more room to move, as well as allowing the spectators a better view of the only Elven pair dancing that night-- a very rare sight in Gondor indeed.
As they began to sway to the soft music, Legolas at first felt very uncomfortable. So many eyes were obviously on him and his beautiful partner, and this rapt attention made him more self-conscious than ever. Vetilien, however, was elegant and composed as always, and she easily ignored the stares they were receiving from all directions. Soon enough, the maiden's grace and confidence rubbed off Legolas, and he gradually forgot about his nerves.
"Hmm . . . I guess I was wrong." Vetilien murmured contentedly, as Legolas expertly swept her around the floor with his strong arms and nimble steps. "Time on the battlefield does not ruin a dancer's gentleness and grace, after all."
Legolas chuckled. "I shall take that as a compliment." he retorted. "Thank you, my Lady."
Vetilien smiled at that, but then remained silent. It was at this point that Legolas noticed a queer look had overshadowed the earlier mirth in her eyes, and he knew at once that this was a sign of something troubling her.
"Vetilien . . ." he said with concern on his face, giving the dainty fingers he held in his hand a gentle squeeze. "Is there something wrong?"
The elf-maiden sighed, knowing there was no way of lying or hiding from a friend who can read her feelings and thoughts to precision. She raised her emerald eyes back up to meet his before speaking again. "There is something I must tell you." she whispered in Elvish. "It is news that may just startle you."
Her sudden shift to their native tongue increased Legolas' worry. "Mani naa ta (What is it)?"
Vetilien took a deep breath. "Laileon . . . He . . . he has asked for my hand in marriage." she said softly. "And I have accepted. We are to be married around this time next year."
For a moment Legolas could only stare at her through wide eyes, hardly able to believe his ears. "You mean this?" he finally exclaimed. When his initial surprise had subsided, a joyful smile burst upon his face. "That is wonderful news!"
Born with only a few years difference between them, Legolas and Vetilien had known each other since they were mere infants, making her his oldest and closest friend. But it was Legolas' older brother, Laileon, crown prince of Mirkwood, who had been in love with the beautiful maiden for as long as he could remember. It delighted Legolas greatly to find out that, after so many years of fervent courtship, his brother had finally succeeded in winning over Vetilien's heart and hand. It made him happy also to realize that Vetilien, who was considered the fairest and kindest of all maidens in their kingdom, would not only be made Laileon's wife, but also future Queen of the Woodland Realm.
Vetilien gazed back at him with a strange look in her eyes that escaped the elf-prince's awareness. "You really think so?"
"Of course." Legolas told her warmly. "He loves you very much, Vetilien. Rest assured that no elf can make you a finer husband than Laileon. He will take good care of you."
Vetilien lowered her gaze once more. "Yes." she murmured, smiling faintly. "I suppose he will."
Legolas smiled and kissed her forehead, his elation at the news still causing him to remain oblivious to his friend's strange responses. "I have only the best of wishes for you both." he said softly. "I know you will have a very happy life together."
Vetilien nodded and leaned her head against Legolas' shoulder, concealing her face before the prince could notice the single tear that escaped the corner of her eye.
"Thank you." she whispered. "Mellonamin (my friend)."
* * *
Legolas let out a soft sigh and leaned his elbows against the heavy stone ledge of the balcony railing. After Firreon had cut into his dance with Vetilien and taken over, he had grabbed the opportunity to steal a moment of solitude. Deciding that he needed some time alone to think things over, he had made his way out of the noisy banquet hall and into the deserted palace veranda. He inhaled deeply and felt instant relief, as he filled his lungs with the crisp night air. Now this was much better. The crowded atmosphere indoors had been getting a bit too stifling for his taste.
The elf stared up at the starry night sky and smiled to himself. It was certainly a beautiful evening, befitting the momentously happy occasion the kingdom was celebrating. This contentment did not last quite so long, however, for as things of beauty always did, the radiance of the perfect evening reminded him of something else. Of someone else.
Legolas closed his eyes, resigning himself to the resurgence of pain in his heart. It was indeed queer how, though he was surrounded by so many dear friends and loved ones, still none of it could manage to fill the void of loneliness inside him. In spite of the joy of this evening, the sadness remained stubbornly imprinted, and he knew exactly why.
"I wish you were here, my love." the elf whispered softly, speaking to the emptiness in front of him as though he could see Armir's face staring back at him. "Somehow none of this just seems right without you."
He shook his head despondently, then forced himself to focus this thoughts back on what he had really intended and needed to reflect on. Vetilien's earlier words echoed in his mind, causing a slight frown of contemplation to grace his lips.
"It is so good to know that the war is all over now, and you can finally return to Mirkwood with us . . ."
He had been so caught up in his grief over Armir's death for so long, he had looked over the fact that there was indeed still so much that waited for him back at home. He was placing so much effort in trying to go on with his life that he had actually forgotten what living actually meant. He had a father who loved him dearly, and friends who were eager to spend time with him again. All simply waiting for his return.
Legolas sighed and rubbed his face wearily. It was time to truly move on. There were people who still wanted him, still needed him. The wisest thing to do now was to go home with his father, like he was certain the King wanted him to. There was no sense in wallowing in his misery forever; it simply was not what Armir would have wished for him.
But was he really ready to go back to his life in Mirkwood? To let go of all that has happened?
Slowly, the elf reached into the inner pocket of his green tunic and pulled out a small package carefully wrapped in a white handkerchief. He unwrapped it slowly to reveal the beautiful white flower that had delicately been stored there over the past months. A soft smile swept across the elf's lips as he gently took the flower in his hand, feeling the warmth that never failed to console him whenever he laid eyes on it. Up until now he still could not explain why this sweet treasure had such a powerful effect on him. He supposed that it was merely because it had belonged to his beloved, and its presence somehow made up for the absence of her beauty, even just to a slight extent.
"It is very lovely, is it not?"
At the sound of this voice, Legolas looked up with a start and spotted a handsome he-elf walking out into the balcony towards him, obviously having left the feast to also get some fresh air. He quickly bowed his head briefly to show his respects as Master Elrond, the Lord of Rivendell, came close to stand beside him.
"I beg your pardon, my Lord?"
Elrond smiled warmly at the younger elf, and gestured at the flower that still lay in his open palm. "That flower." he explained. "It is remarkably exquisite."
Legolas gazed back down at the object in his hand and nodded. "Yes." he murmured wistfully. "Indeed it is."
"Armir was named after it, you know."
Legolas' head snapped back up immediately and he found himself gaping quite unflatteringly, taken aback by this sudden revelation. "M-my Lord?" he stammered.
Elrond laughed, apparently amused but not surprised by his reaction. "Did you not even know the name of that magnificent gem you are holding?" he chided gently. "It is a flower of Lorien, very rare and priceless beyond what you can even imagine, young prince. Where did you get it?"
At this inquiry, Legolas faltered in hesitation. They had not really had the chance to speak of the princess' death up until now, though Elrond had made it clear since he arrived at Gondor that he did not blame Legolas at all for his granddaughter's tragic end. Still, Legolas was not sure this was a topic he wanted to open up in conversation with anyone, especially Armir's grandfather.
"It . . . it was amongst her other belongings, my Lord." he finally mumbled. "I found it and kept it with me this whole time. I . . . I did not know it was actually that valuable."
So caught up in his own embarrassment and nervousness was Legolas that he did not notice the queer glimmer of strong emotions that passed through the great elf lord's wise eyes in that moment.
Elrond shook his head as Legolas reached out to hand him the Armir flower. "Certainly not. I will not rob you of a precious keepsake that has obviously been meant for you." he told him kindly. "It belongs to you, Legolas. Keep it and guard it well, for it is indeed a very special gift."
Legolas smiled faintly before wrapping up the flower back in its cloth and placing it in his tunic pocket once more. "Diola lle, Heru en amin (Thank you, my Lord)."
An uncomfortable silence drifted between the two elves for some time after that before Elrond finally sighed and shook his head.
"Legolas, I am not the sort who beats around the bush when I know exactly what I mean to say." he told the elf-prince seriously. "I sought you out tonight because there is a favor I mean to ask of you."
Legolas' brow creased with concern, but he nodded amicably. "Of course, Master Elrond." he said decidedly. "Anything I can do for you, I will."
Elrond paused, gazing thoughtfully at the younger elf for a few moments before speaking again. "In case you have not heard the news of it yet, I shall be returning to Rivendell tomorrow with Elladan and the others." he said slowly. "And I would like to request, young prince, that you come with home us."
Legolas stared speechlessly at the elf-lord, stunned and quite unable to believe what he had just heard. "I, my Lord?" Were the only words all he could muster.
Elrond ignored the shock on the prince's face and went on with his explanations. "I wish for you to come and visit Armir's grave." he said solemnly. "It is only fitting after all, that you pay her proper respects after what you and she have been through together. Do you not think so?"
For the longest time all Legolas could do was gape helplessly, his mouth slightly open as he struggled futilely to say something. His head reeled with mixed thoughts and emotions. Go back to Rivendell? See Armir? Those were choices that had passed through the back of his mind several times before but never really surfaced into full consideration, and the reasons for it were quite obvious.
At last, Legolas managed to get a hold of himself and speak to the patiently waiting Lord.
"I mean you no disrespect, Master Elrond." he began, summoning up all his courage to say what he knew he must. "But I do not think it would be wise for me to visit Armir's grave." He paused and took a deep breath. "Not now, or ever."
Elrond's eyes clouded over with concern and puzzlement. "And why is that?" he demanded. "You loved her then, and still love her now, do you not?"
"Aye, my Lord, I love her." Legolas murmured, bravely keeping the tears welling his eyes in check. "I love her with everything my whole heart and soul could give. And that is why I cannot see her. It has been painful and difficult enough for me to go on with my life haunted by memories of her, and every day still I must struggle just to push myself through each moment without her by my side and with the knowledge that I can never see her, or hold her in my arms again.
"But have you not considered, my son, that perhaps what you do need to help give your heart peace is to see her one more time?" Elrond said, the kindness and pity in his voice striking guilt into Legolas. "If you visit her, she may just be able to help you, and somehow give you the strength you need."
Legolas sighed and shook his head. "All I have to do is close my eyes to catch a glimpse of her face in my mind, and already an overwhelming grief crushes my heart." he muttered. "What more if I were to see her with my open eyes, and watch her lie in a state of death that she so undeservingly fell into? For sure I would not survive."
"I am sorry Master Elrond." he said mournfully. "I long to do as you ask, truly. But this request . . . this is something I simply cannot do. I had promised Armir that I would continue to live my life, and I will not willingly place myself in any situation that may cause me to break that promise."
All this said, Legolas fell back into a silence that, though it showed regret and respect, made it clear that no one was going to be able change his mind. Not even the powerful Lord of Rivendell.
"Very well." Elrond said after a long pause, nodding his head gravely. "If that is your decision, I then have no choice but to respect it."
He then stepped closer to the distraught Mirkwood prince and patted his back consolingly.
"My granddaughter loved you immensely, Legolas, and she would have bound herself to you for all eternity had fate only given her the chance." he told him gently. "Because of this, I know that from now on, I shall always look upon you as my own son."
He smiled and gave the elf's shoulder an affectionate squeeze. "In case you do have a change of heart, young one, I want you to know that our kingdom shall always be open to your call. And when that day comes, I shall be waiting to gladly welcome you home."
"And so will Armir."
* * *
COMING UP . . . CHAPTER 2 - RETURN
Interesting start, eh? Sorry, a bit of an abrupt ending there! Hehehe . . . but I hope I did not disappoint so far!
TO ALL MY NEW REVIEWERS/READERS: Pls. leave your email addresses so I can send you links to the new chapters every time I update! ;p
Thanks for your time! Pls. review if you want an update soon! ;p
Please do not flame me for giving Elladan a daughter. I am well aware of the real members of Elrond's family. Armir is merely my own addition to the world of Tolkien, and I've done the best that I could to make her fit in as seamlessly as possible with the Canon characters.
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
This is my second LOTR fan fiction, and I hope it will be as good (if not better) than the first! This is a SEQUEL to my first work, "THE SACRIFICE". I would really recommend your reading "The Sacrifice" (unless you have already) before diving into this, because otherwise the events will just be too difficult to understand. :D
Anyhow, let's get on with it! I can write longer author notes later when there is more to say. . . ;p
HAPPY READING!
* * *
A LOVE THAT BINDS
PROLOGUE
TA 3019, FEBRUARY
It has been many years since the kingdom of Rivendell had last fallen into a state of such heavy grief and shared mourning. There was not a dry eye or cheerful heart left in the entire realm as the tragic news spread far and wide among the Elven communities. These were horrible reports that announced the death of Lord Elrond's beloved granddaughter, Lady Armir, the young princess who had touched the lives of so many with the light of her sweet virtue and sincere kindness.
Though all the elves of Imladris took part in lamenting the kingdom's loss, none was saddened more than the Lord of Rivendell himself, the loving grandfather who had been closest to the elf-maiden, having raised her and cared for her her entire life. It troubled his subjects to see their usually tranquil master distraught over the passing of the child he loved so dearly, but they could do nothing but sympathize with the elf-lord's reasonable pain.
A gloomy sun flickered in the overcast sky on the day Armir was retuned to her home to be laid to her final rest. The mood that pervaded the Last Homely House and its surrounding forests and settlements was uneasy and disturbed, echoing the despair nature itself expressed in the unhappy whispers of the cold wind, the stillness of the trees, and silence of the birds.
It was on that gloomy afternoon that Master Elrond paced outside the doors of the healers' chamber, waiting for the end to the preparations his granddaughter's body had to undergo before finally proceeding to her final ceremonies. When at last the healers and handmaidens were finished with their work, the doors were opened and the servants bowed their Lord inside, then immediately made their exit in order to give him privacy.
Elrond entered the dimly lit room and slowly approached the bed in the center where his beloved Armir lay. His heart wrenched with fresh grief as he forced himself to look upon the sight of her lifeless form. Her bruises and wounds had been cleansed to make it appear as though she had not been touched by a blade or blow at all. Her long, raven hair had been brushed out till it shone like fine silk, and she was now dressed in a regal white gown that made her look like the lovely angel she truly was.
Elrond smiled and gently stroked the fair maiden's sweet face. Her beauty was radiant enough to conquer even the powers of death. It has been days since her spirit departed this world, and still her cheeks have not lost its rosy glow, nor had the smile faded from her lips.
Just then, he heard a soft voice speak from the doorway, interrupting his thoughts.
"Begging your pardon, Master Elrond . . . "
He turned his head to gaze at the servant girl who had come up timidly to stand behind him.
"Here are some things we had taken from the Lady, Sire." the young elf said meekly. She bowed her head and held out her hands to the elf- lord. "I am certain you would like to keep them with you."
Elrond smiled weakly and nodded as he accepted the items the elf handed over to him. "Diola lle (Thank you)." he murmured, as the elf curtsied and left the room once again.
Elrond gazed down at the three articles that had been deposited in his hands. One was a jeweled hair comb that had belonged to Armir's mother, Nurréien. It had been given to her by her father on her fiftieth birthday, and was his granddaughter's most prized possession.
The second was a magnificently fashioned pendant studded with jewels that hung on a delicate mithril chain. As he held it up for closer inspection, he was able to identify what the crafted runic symbol meant-- forever. Realization soon dawned upon Elrond as he recalled Elladan's report of how Armir and Legolas Thranduillion had become lovers over the Fellowship's journey. This exquisite necklace must have been the Prince of Mirkwood's token of affection for his granddaughter.
The third object was something Elrond did not expect to see. It was a small white flower, so fair and immaculate it looked as though it had just been plucked from what must have been a luxuriant flower garden. It was a rare beauty indeed, but the wise elf-lord did not have any trouble identifying the name of this sweet blossom.
"Armir . . ." he whispered in wonder and sudden excitement, touching the petals delicately.
He then turned his eyes back towards the elf that lay motionless on the bed, the elf who had been named after this beautiful and marvelous flower. A flower that held much power and many secrets underneath its simple exterior.
Now moved by a sudden hope, Elrond stepped back to Armir's side. Very carefully and gently, he returned his granddaughter's precious possessions to her. He slid the hair comb into her raven tresses. He fastened the necklace around her slim, milky white neck, resting the pendant just above her breast. And lastly, he slipped the flower in between the graceful hands that lay together over her stomach.
As he stepped away once again to behold the lovely sight, Elrond's heart leaped. All of a sudden there seemed to be a visible change in the way she lay there, frozen in her lifelessness. It was as though her fair skin seemed to glow gently for a brief few seconds, shining a soft light on the dark room for a fleeting moment before fading into nothingness once again. Trembling with anticipation, Elrond moved close to Armir, then planted a soft kiss on his granddaughter's forehead.
He felt pleasant warmth underneath his lips.
At once the Lord of Rivendell smiled, his spirit suddenly flooding with a joy that cast all his earlier sorrows away. He had thought so, and now he knew he was right. He also knew then what he had to do next.
The young princess' body was not laid in the tomb that day as had originally been planned. Instead, Lord Elrond had ordered that she be laid on a bed, and then placed in a small shrine located in the middle of the forest bordering the grounds of the Last Homely House. He never explained why he bid this, and no one questioned the peculiar decision of the wise elf, not even Armir's father, who returned to the Rangers shortly after the mourning period for his daughter was over.
That was how it came to be that Lady Armir of Rivendell became known to her people as their "sleeping princess", for in her perpetual loveliness and radiance it truly seemed as though she were not dead at all, but was merely in a peaceful slumber from which she cannot be awakened. The elves did not fear the dead, nor was there anything to fear from a creature so beautiful, so they visited Armir's open grave constantly, be it to offer flowers at her shrine or simply lay their eyes on the enchanting maiden they loved so dearly in life and even unto her death.
What the elves did not know, however, was that their Lady was not as lost to them as they thought. As she lay there in her rest, they were unaware of the fact that she really was just waiting. Waiting for the arrival of an elf-- her prince-- who would one day come back to her. With his love, he will help her reclaim the life that had been taken, a life that was to be returned by the Valar who had blessed the young maiden and her lover with grace unlike any ever seen in Middle Earth.
* * *
Chapter One - MEMORIES
TA 3019, JUNE
Prince Legolas Thranduillion's eyes shone with joviality as he clapped his hands to the beat of the lively songs resonating throughout the grand ballroom of the royal palace. He watched the couples dancing in perfect timing to the beat of the music around the dance floor and smiled to himself. They seemed to be having so much fun, he almost ached with a desire to jump right in and join in their merriment.
As though he had read these very same thoughts, Gimli elbowed the elf from where he sat beside him at the table.
"Go on, Lad." the dwarf urged with a twinkle in his mirthful eyes. "You know your heart longs for it."
Legolas shook his head, a little taken aback by the suggestion. "I am content enough to just watch." he lied with a shrug.
"Come now!" Gimli encouraged. "No need to be bashful. Tis not as though it would be too difficult to get a partner to dance with, anyway." He smirked and nodded towards the opposite end of the room. "It appears to me that half the lasses in Gondor are already more than eager to fill in the part."
Alerted by his friend's words, Legolas brought his gaze to the direction he had gestured to. Sure enough, he caught sight of a group of some pretty maidens, noblewomen of Gondor perhaps, all of them with their eyes aimed completely at him. The moment they noticed the Elven prince looking over their way, they began to titter with elation and whisper excitedly amongst themselves.
Legolas groaned softly and slumped down in his seat, hunching over slightly to hide his flushing face from view. Ever since he arrived at the White City, the mortal women have been acting strangely around him. His presence had the queerest effect particularly on the younger maidens, who would often stop to gawk at him whenever he'd pass by, and every time he would try to speak to them or merely offer them a smile, they would either turn red or giggle, and then and hurry off, leaving the clueless elf-prince confused and embarrassed. These reactions made Legolas entirely self- conscious and uncomfortable, especially since he did not really know what was causing them. He had not been around mortal women often or long enough to understand what went on inside their heads.
"Must they always stare at me like that?" he mumbled, half to himself and half to the companion who sat beside him gnawing away happily at a roasted goat's leg.
"It is just a simple touch of girlish infatuation." Gimli explained good-humouredly, giving the elf a pat on the back. "Best get used to it. It seems that all the unmarried ladies of Gondor have taken a fancy to your big blue eyes, long golden locks and those attractive buttocks."
"Mani (What)?!" Legolas exclaimed, eyes widening in horror, as his mischievous friend burst into peals of raucous laughter.
"You know, for an elf who is nearing three thousand years of age, you are still quite incompetent in matters involving the fair sex, my friend." Gimli teased. "Up until now, you still do not know how to tell when a lady has been taken by you?"
Legolas could only stare at him in open-mouthed exasperation before finally just shaking his head and turning away. Then, he lowered his face to stare glumly at the half-consumed plate of food on the table before him. He did not have the chance to remain in this silence for a minute when Gimli spoke again, though in a much more sober tone this time.
"You still miss her."
The elf lifted his head back up slowly, unsurprised that the dwarf was able to realize what was bothering him so instantly. He sighed and nodded, avoiding his friend's scrutinizing gaze.
"Every moment." he whispered.
The earlier jollity now gone from his face, Gimli turned to Legolas and placed a hand on his shoulder. "It has been over three months, my friend." he said gently. He did not have to say anything more; they both were aware of what this reminder implied.
"Three months or three thousand years, it does not matter." Legolas said firmly. "I will never stop loving her and thinking of her."
"I am not saying you should stop any of those things. I myself still think of her on occasion, for I too cared for her dearly." Gimli told him kindly. "I just think you should stop longing so much for a past that can never return. All too often you lose yourself in memories of her and forget to look to the future that can still be lived. You said you would move on, did you not?"
"I did." Legolas mumbled. "But that does not include opening up my heart to others. I can never give what has been sworn to one love alone."
The elf then held up his hand to silence the dwarf before he could add anything else.
"Please, Gimli." he said softly. "Things are hard enough, and I do not want to ruin the joy of this celebration by pondering on matters that will only bring back grief."
Gimli sighed and nodded. "You are right." he agreed. "I am sorry. I will not speak of it again."
Legolas smiled back to show that the apology was accepted, and the two friends fell back into comfortable silence. Gimli focused his attention back to his meal, and Legolas went back to watching the dancers.
Nevertheless, the wistfulness did not leave the young prince's eyes as he stared out at the ballroom floor where dozens of couples continued to waltz energetically to the upbeat music. Though his own mood was growing rather bleak, the atmosphere of his surroundings remained wholly bright and jovial, as the citizens and guests of Gondor basked in a rejoicing many had thought they would ever be able to see in the White City ever again.
This evening celebrated a glorious event indeed, for earlier in the day the newly crowned King Elessar wed a remarkable woman who was now a Queen of Men, though prior to this blessed union she had been a princess of the Elven race. Never in their lives had the people of Gondor seen such amazing beauty grace their lands, and it warmed their hearts very much to see their beloved king so happy with a wife that would surely bring even greater years of prosperity to their rejuvenated kingdom.
Legolas smiled as he watched his two old friends, both radiant with overflowing joy, as they stood out in the crowd of other couples gliding across the floor. He had never been gladder for Aragorn and Arwen; after all that they had sacrificed and suffered just to come this far in their relationship, no one was more deserving of a blissful life than they.
Still, as much as he wanted to go through this night without any negative thoughts or feelings in his heart, Legolas could not help but sense an undeniable twinge of envy. The happy sparkle in Aragorn's eyes as he gazed at his wife with so much love and adoration was exactly how he had hoped to look at his own bride on the day of their wedding-- a day that never came to pass, and never will.
The smile faded on Legolas' face as the familiar pain began to throb in his chest once more. Though in time he learned to drown out his sorrow for his lost love, it would still manage to come back to him in certain moments of loneliness.
Though he tried valiantly not so show it to his concerned comrades, Legolas missed Armir terribly. Many nights he would dream of her, of her beautiful smile, her gentle voice, her sweet touch, and then end up waking in tears of a longing that can never be fulfilled. At times he would fall into states of depression and despair, wondering how he would make it to the next day without dying of the broken heart he still carried. But somehow he always recovered, and he then knew that somewhere out there, his beloved was still watching over him, giving him the strength to go on with his life like he had promised her he would.
As he kept his distant gaze out on the dance floor, the elf's thoughts unconsciously drifted off into another world, a world of fond memories where his beloved Armir was still safe in his embrace, and they both were filled with such happiness in each other's company that it seemed as though nothing could break them apart.
Just as it was meant to be . . .
* * *
"Legolas?"
He smiled and gazed down at the pretty face of the maiden walking alongside him. "Yes?" he asked, his loving worship for her evident even in the utterance of that one little word.
Armir looked up and returned his smile before snuggling her face back against the arm that was linked through hers. "Have you ever imagined what it would have been like if things between us had turned out differently from the way they are now?' she murmured, her gentle voice full of contentment.
"What do you mean by that, love?" Legolas inquired, before planting a kiss on the top of her head.
"I mean," Armir continued. "What do you think it would have been like if we had met each other under completely different circumstances? If we had not been under the burden of this quest and had instead gone through a normal courtship?"
"An interesting question." Legolas remarked, sliding his arm further around her as they continued their evening stroll through the woods of Lorien.
"Yes, and I expect an answer to it." Armir retorted, giggling slightly as his fingers lightly teased the side of her waist, tickling her. "How different do you think it would have been then?"
Legolas cocked his head to one side, pretending to think hard. "Well . . . I am not sure my imagination can stretch that far." he mused.
He grinned and stopped in his tracks, suddenly using both arms to pull her tightly against him. "But I believe I can be sure of one thing, though. In any alternative world or circumstance, you would not be any less wonderful than you are now."
He moved his hands to the sides of her face and leaned over to caress her soft lips with a gentle mouth. "And I would not be any less madly in love with you." he whispered in between kisses.
"Still . . ." Armir managed to say breathlessly when they finally parted. "It would have been nice if we had gotten a chance to know each other in a more customary, more romantic setting, do you not think so?" She trailed her fingers down the blond hair that cascaded over Legolas' shoulder. "Like a ball or some sort of social, perhaps?"
Legolas' eyes twinkled. "Given such a setting, do you think you would have paid me even the slightest bit of attention?" he teased. "Aragorn has told me many stories of you, my Lady, and how for years you rejected countless suitors who have tried in vain to win over your stubborn heart. Would my fate have been any different from theirs? Would you have treated me any better, much less accepted me?"
Armir smiled and shook her head. "I certainly would have been foolish not to." she murmured simply, reaching up to stroke his face adoringly.
Legolas smiled back and kissed her nose, then chuckled. "But Melamin, why dream of something ordinary when we already have something unique, and more special?" he pointed out, rubbing his hand against her back. "Besides, who says we cannot enjoy a normal life after this quest is over? We still have so much time ahead of us, time that we can spend together any way we wish."
Armir nodded and rested her head comfortably on his shoulder. "Yes." she said softly in concession. "I suppose you are right."
Sliding one arm around her waist, Legolas took her hand in his and held it against his chest. Then he began to lead her in a slow dance, swaying to an imaginary song only they could hear. Armir giggled as he led her into a spin, allowing to twirl gracefully under his arm before landing back in his embrace. As they continued their dance, she slid her arms around his neck, then burrowed her face back into his chest.
"I am so grateful I met you, Legolas." she whispered. "Everyday I have to thank the Valar for bringing you to me, because I cannot imagine what my life would have been like if you had not come."
"I feel the same way." Legolas told her sincerely. "It does not matter what trials we have to put up with before we truly find peace, because we will get there somehow-- together. I promise you."
He brought her hand to his lips, kissing it gently before gazing down at her with all the devotion in his heart shining in his eyes.
"The only thing that matters, my love, is that we found each other."
* * *
"Legolas? Legolas!"
The elf jerked his head and looked up with a start, abruptly pulled out of his daydream by the voice calling him. He blinked a few times to clear up his vision, which had been clouded over by the reverie he had unconsciously fallen into. It was then that he realized that the King of Gondor was standing beside his seat, kind eyes smiling down at him in amusement.
"Well, well." Aragorn said, shaking his head. "You seem to be pretty preoccupied, my friend. It took nearly a full minute this time before I was finally able to get your attention."
Legolas reddened slightly, feeling embarrassed at his being caught so unguarded. "Sorry." he mumbled. "Was just thinking about . . . something." He shook his head, regaining himself, and then offered his dear friend a warm smile. "Is there anything I can help you with, your Majesty?"
Aragorn laughed and gave the elf a light slap on the back. "I will have none of that, my friend!" he admonished. "Nothing must change between us, even in spite of all the new arrangements that have developed." He grinned. "After all, I will never be any different from that child who threw porridge all over you on our first meeting!"
Legolas joined in his laughter at this shared memory and nodded. "As you say, Mellonamin." he told him, feeling a wave of affection for the man whose friendship he treasured above all else, along with Gimli's.
"Anyhow," Aragorn continued, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "I merely wanted to inform you that a certain special guest has finally arrived, and is very eager to see you."
"Me?" Legolas repeated, confused for a few moments before realization dawned on him, and a smile brightened his face. He immediately rose from his seat. "Where?"
Aragorn smiled and nodded in the direction of the great oaken double doors of the banquet room. "He remains at the entrance with the rest of his entourage. I suppose he wishes for you to be the one to make the welcomes and show them to their seats."
After thanking the King profusely, Legolas excused himself and hastily made his way towards the entrance hall, anticipation quickening both his heart and his step. As soon as he reached the doors, his eyes beheld a sight he had greatly missed over the long months he had been away from home.
"Atar (Father)!" he called out, slipping through the crowd to get closer to the regal elf that stood waiting patiently to the side, surrounded by a handful of dressed-down guards.
The King of the Woodland Realm instantly turned at the sound of his voice. A happy smile lit up his handsome face and blue eyes as he caught sight of his son. He quickly crossed the distance between them and met the younger elf in a warm embrace.
"It is good to see you again, Legolas." he said in his characteristically gentle but strong voice, patting his child on the back affectionately before pulling away. "It brings me such great relief to finally be assured that you are indeed safe and sound."
"I have missed you, Ada." Legolas responded sincerely. "I am glad you were able to come."
Thranduil laughed. "Yes, well, like I told Aragorn earlier, I apologize for our late arrival." he said with a shake of his head. "There was just some unfinished business that needed to be taken care of before we could leave."
"I trust then that you had a good journey?"
"Even better than we had expected." Thranduil responded with a smile. "It is marvelous to see how many changes have developed so quickly over such a short time, ever since the fall of the Dark Lord."
He paused and placed a hand on Legolas' shoulder, squeezing it as he looked at him straight in the eye. "I am very pleased for you, Legolas." he told him meaningfully. "You have done well for yourself, and you do the whole Woodland Realm proud."
Legolas beamed and bowed his head. "Thank you, Father." he said humbly. "I am greatly honored just hearing you say that."
When he raised his head back up, he offered the Elven king an arm. "You must be famished by now, after such a long ride. Let me escort you to the banquet table so you may start with dinner."
But Thranduil held back and raised his hand. "A moment." he said, craning his head and looking back out into the hall past the doors. "We must yet wait for the other Mirkwood representatives to arrive. They said they would meet me here at the entrance."
Legolas frowned in puzzlement, knowing that, apart from his usual escort of bodyguards and attendants, his father usually chose to go to royal functions alone. "Representatives? Who . . .?"
Suddenly, a familiar voice called out to interrupt him, causing him to whirl around immediately.
"Legolas Greenleaf!"
Legolas' eyes widened as he spotted a pair of elves rushing over to join him and his father. One was a strapping he-elf with chestnut hair and cheery brown eyes, and the other an elegant elf-maiden with golden hair and dazzling green eyes.
"Firreon?! Vetilien?!" he exclaimed in delighted surprise.
"At your service Milord!" the male elf, Firreon, said with a laugh, reaching over to envelope Legolas in a brotherly hug.
"What are you doing here?!" was all Legolas could say, a cheek splitting smile growing on his face as his heart rejoiced with the presence of his two dearest friends from back home.
"Well, to see you of course!" the she-elf Vetilien answered, embracing the prince and planting a kiss on his cheek after Firreon backed away. "We have missed you terribly!"
"I suggested that they come along." Thranduil spoke up amidst the youngsters' happy reunion. "I guessed that you would be as eager to see them again as they have been to see you."
"Of course, we could still be wrong in assuming that much." Firreon joked merrily as always, punching Legolas lightly on the arm. "After all, his Highness is quite a famous hero now, being part of the company that brought down the Enemy and all."
"We have heard so much about your adventures back home, Legolas." Vetilien told him eagerly. "Needless to say, it is hard to distinguish what is fact and what is mere rumor, so you would simply must tell us all about it yourself."
"But first, let us see to dinner." Thranduil interrupted their chatter gently, taking his son by the shoulder. "Legolas is not going anywhere else anytime soon, so there will be plenty of time to catch up."
Legolas laughed and nodded. "Father is right. The night is still young." he agreed. "And now that you are here, I promise I will do my best to tell you all that you want to know."
With that, he gave the Elven King his arm and began to lead him towards the seats that have been reserved for the Mirkwood guests, and at the same time he gestured to his two friends to follow.
"Shall we?"
* * *
A half-hour later, Legolas was seated back at the banquet table, but this time there was no longer any opportunity for him to fall into solitary daydreams. Over dinner, his two friends had demanded to hear stories of his escapades with the Fellowship, and the elf even had to enlist the help of Gimli in answering all their eager questions.
At that moment, Firreon, who quickly hit it off with the dwarf, was listening avidly to his account of how he and Aragorn held back the horde of Uruks trying to penetrate the walls of Helm's Deep. Vetilien, however, had ears only for Legolas, and kept all her attention on him as he related the details of their ride through the Paths of the Dead.
After Legolas' story ended, Vetilien sighed and leaned back in her chair, shaking her head with a smile. "So much excitement and adventure, and in actually a very short span of time. You certainly have gone through a lot of battles and new experiences, haven't you?" she remarked. "Just like you have always wanted."
Legolas laughed lightly, then shrugged. "Yes." he agreed, a wistful look starting to grow in his azure eyes. "I must admit, the past months have indeed given me the most incredible, most fulfilling experience of my life."
A pause in their conversation came as Vetilien momentarily focused some attention back on her meal, and Legolas took the opportunity to run his gaze around the room. He spotted his father where he sat between Lord Celeborn and Master Elrond and smiled. The prince watched with fondness in his stare as his father conversed with the Lord of Rivendell, and was suddenly struck by the reminder of how happy he was to see him again, and how much he had missed his company. There was so much they needed to catch up on, so much he wanted to tell him about his experiences.
"He has missed you greatly too, you know."
Legolas turned his gaze back to Vetilien, unsurprised by how she was able to read his mind, as elves who had been childhood friends usually could. The maiden smiled and continued, her stunning green eyes looking at him with warm affection. "Everyone back at home has missed you."
She took his hand and squeezed it. "It is so good to know that the war is all over now, and you can finally return to Mirkwood with us." she said softly.
Legolas smiled back at his friend, though this time it took a little bit of effort. "Yes." he said with a sigh. "I have missed Mirkwood a lot myself. It would be nice to see home again."
He then grinned and nudged Vetilien's arm gently. "And now, my Lady, I believe it is your turn to share some of your stories with me." he told her. "Tell me, what has been going on in the woodlands while I have been away?"
Vetilien opened her mouth as though she meant to launch into lengthy speech as he requested, but she seemed to think better of it and stopped herself. Her eyes sparkled mischievously as she placed the napkin from her lap down on the table.
"I have a better idea."
Without waiting for Legolas to assist her, she pushed back her chair and got to her feet, much to the prince's surprise. She held out a hand to him and smiled brightly. "Will his Highness be so kind as to honor me with a dance?" she asked sweetly.
Legolas stared at the outstretched hand the elf offered him, his mind turned into a sudden blank by this abrupt invitation. "Uh . . ."
"Come on, Legolas! Please?" Vetilien coaxed. "Dance with me, and we can talk while we do so!" She wriggled her fingers at him coyly. "Will you make me beg like you did last time?"
Legolas finally laughed and shook his head. "You know very well that I never have, and never can refuse you anything, Arwenamin (my lady)." he said softly, getting up from his chair and taking her hand. He planted a kiss on her fingers and bowed. "It would give me great pleasure to dance with you."
"Nay, the pleasure is all mine." Vetilien told him with a smile, as he led her to the dance floor.
A mellow waltz began to play as they joined the other couples. There were fewer people on the floor now, giving Legolas and Vetilien more room to move, as well as allowing the spectators a better view of the only Elven pair dancing that night-- a very rare sight in Gondor indeed.
As they began to sway to the soft music, Legolas at first felt very uncomfortable. So many eyes were obviously on him and his beautiful partner, and this rapt attention made him more self-conscious than ever. Vetilien, however, was elegant and composed as always, and she easily ignored the stares they were receiving from all directions. Soon enough, the maiden's grace and confidence rubbed off Legolas, and he gradually forgot about his nerves.
"Hmm . . . I guess I was wrong." Vetilien murmured contentedly, as Legolas expertly swept her around the floor with his strong arms and nimble steps. "Time on the battlefield does not ruin a dancer's gentleness and grace, after all."
Legolas chuckled. "I shall take that as a compliment." he retorted. "Thank you, my Lady."
Vetilien smiled at that, but then remained silent. It was at this point that Legolas noticed a queer look had overshadowed the earlier mirth in her eyes, and he knew at once that this was a sign of something troubling her.
"Vetilien . . ." he said with concern on his face, giving the dainty fingers he held in his hand a gentle squeeze. "Is there something wrong?"
The elf-maiden sighed, knowing there was no way of lying or hiding from a friend who can read her feelings and thoughts to precision. She raised her emerald eyes back up to meet his before speaking again. "There is something I must tell you." she whispered in Elvish. "It is news that may just startle you."
Her sudden shift to their native tongue increased Legolas' worry. "Mani naa ta (What is it)?"
Vetilien took a deep breath. "Laileon . . . He . . . he has asked for my hand in marriage." she said softly. "And I have accepted. We are to be married around this time next year."
For a moment Legolas could only stare at her through wide eyes, hardly able to believe his ears. "You mean this?" he finally exclaimed. When his initial surprise had subsided, a joyful smile burst upon his face. "That is wonderful news!"
Born with only a few years difference between them, Legolas and Vetilien had known each other since they were mere infants, making her his oldest and closest friend. But it was Legolas' older brother, Laileon, crown prince of Mirkwood, who had been in love with the beautiful maiden for as long as he could remember. It delighted Legolas greatly to find out that, after so many years of fervent courtship, his brother had finally succeeded in winning over Vetilien's heart and hand. It made him happy also to realize that Vetilien, who was considered the fairest and kindest of all maidens in their kingdom, would not only be made Laileon's wife, but also future Queen of the Woodland Realm.
Vetilien gazed back at him with a strange look in her eyes that escaped the elf-prince's awareness. "You really think so?"
"Of course." Legolas told her warmly. "He loves you very much, Vetilien. Rest assured that no elf can make you a finer husband than Laileon. He will take good care of you."
Vetilien lowered her gaze once more. "Yes." she murmured, smiling faintly. "I suppose he will."
Legolas smiled and kissed her forehead, his elation at the news still causing him to remain oblivious to his friend's strange responses. "I have only the best of wishes for you both." he said softly. "I know you will have a very happy life together."
Vetilien nodded and leaned her head against Legolas' shoulder, concealing her face before the prince could notice the single tear that escaped the corner of her eye.
"Thank you." she whispered. "Mellonamin (my friend)."
* * *
Legolas let out a soft sigh and leaned his elbows against the heavy stone ledge of the balcony railing. After Firreon had cut into his dance with Vetilien and taken over, he had grabbed the opportunity to steal a moment of solitude. Deciding that he needed some time alone to think things over, he had made his way out of the noisy banquet hall and into the deserted palace veranda. He inhaled deeply and felt instant relief, as he filled his lungs with the crisp night air. Now this was much better. The crowded atmosphere indoors had been getting a bit too stifling for his taste.
The elf stared up at the starry night sky and smiled to himself. It was certainly a beautiful evening, befitting the momentously happy occasion the kingdom was celebrating. This contentment did not last quite so long, however, for as things of beauty always did, the radiance of the perfect evening reminded him of something else. Of someone else.
Legolas closed his eyes, resigning himself to the resurgence of pain in his heart. It was indeed queer how, though he was surrounded by so many dear friends and loved ones, still none of it could manage to fill the void of loneliness inside him. In spite of the joy of this evening, the sadness remained stubbornly imprinted, and he knew exactly why.
"I wish you were here, my love." the elf whispered softly, speaking to the emptiness in front of him as though he could see Armir's face staring back at him. "Somehow none of this just seems right without you."
He shook his head despondently, then forced himself to focus this thoughts back on what he had really intended and needed to reflect on. Vetilien's earlier words echoed in his mind, causing a slight frown of contemplation to grace his lips.
"It is so good to know that the war is all over now, and you can finally return to Mirkwood with us . . ."
He had been so caught up in his grief over Armir's death for so long, he had looked over the fact that there was indeed still so much that waited for him back at home. He was placing so much effort in trying to go on with his life that he had actually forgotten what living actually meant. He had a father who loved him dearly, and friends who were eager to spend time with him again. All simply waiting for his return.
Legolas sighed and rubbed his face wearily. It was time to truly move on. There were people who still wanted him, still needed him. The wisest thing to do now was to go home with his father, like he was certain the King wanted him to. There was no sense in wallowing in his misery forever; it simply was not what Armir would have wished for him.
But was he really ready to go back to his life in Mirkwood? To let go of all that has happened?
Slowly, the elf reached into the inner pocket of his green tunic and pulled out a small package carefully wrapped in a white handkerchief. He unwrapped it slowly to reveal the beautiful white flower that had delicately been stored there over the past months. A soft smile swept across the elf's lips as he gently took the flower in his hand, feeling the warmth that never failed to console him whenever he laid eyes on it. Up until now he still could not explain why this sweet treasure had such a powerful effect on him. He supposed that it was merely because it had belonged to his beloved, and its presence somehow made up for the absence of her beauty, even just to a slight extent.
"It is very lovely, is it not?"
At the sound of this voice, Legolas looked up with a start and spotted a handsome he-elf walking out into the balcony towards him, obviously having left the feast to also get some fresh air. He quickly bowed his head briefly to show his respects as Master Elrond, the Lord of Rivendell, came close to stand beside him.
"I beg your pardon, my Lord?"
Elrond smiled warmly at the younger elf, and gestured at the flower that still lay in his open palm. "That flower." he explained. "It is remarkably exquisite."
Legolas gazed back down at the object in his hand and nodded. "Yes." he murmured wistfully. "Indeed it is."
"Armir was named after it, you know."
Legolas' head snapped back up immediately and he found himself gaping quite unflatteringly, taken aback by this sudden revelation. "M-my Lord?" he stammered.
Elrond laughed, apparently amused but not surprised by his reaction. "Did you not even know the name of that magnificent gem you are holding?" he chided gently. "It is a flower of Lorien, very rare and priceless beyond what you can even imagine, young prince. Where did you get it?"
At this inquiry, Legolas faltered in hesitation. They had not really had the chance to speak of the princess' death up until now, though Elrond had made it clear since he arrived at Gondor that he did not blame Legolas at all for his granddaughter's tragic end. Still, Legolas was not sure this was a topic he wanted to open up in conversation with anyone, especially Armir's grandfather.
"It . . . it was amongst her other belongings, my Lord." he finally mumbled. "I found it and kept it with me this whole time. I . . . I did not know it was actually that valuable."
So caught up in his own embarrassment and nervousness was Legolas that he did not notice the queer glimmer of strong emotions that passed through the great elf lord's wise eyes in that moment.
Elrond shook his head as Legolas reached out to hand him the Armir flower. "Certainly not. I will not rob you of a precious keepsake that has obviously been meant for you." he told him kindly. "It belongs to you, Legolas. Keep it and guard it well, for it is indeed a very special gift."
Legolas smiled faintly before wrapping up the flower back in its cloth and placing it in his tunic pocket once more. "Diola lle, Heru en amin (Thank you, my Lord)."
An uncomfortable silence drifted between the two elves for some time after that before Elrond finally sighed and shook his head.
"Legolas, I am not the sort who beats around the bush when I know exactly what I mean to say." he told the elf-prince seriously. "I sought you out tonight because there is a favor I mean to ask of you."
Legolas' brow creased with concern, but he nodded amicably. "Of course, Master Elrond." he said decidedly. "Anything I can do for you, I will."
Elrond paused, gazing thoughtfully at the younger elf for a few moments before speaking again. "In case you have not heard the news of it yet, I shall be returning to Rivendell tomorrow with Elladan and the others." he said slowly. "And I would like to request, young prince, that you come with home us."
Legolas stared speechlessly at the elf-lord, stunned and quite unable to believe what he had just heard. "I, my Lord?" Were the only words all he could muster.
Elrond ignored the shock on the prince's face and went on with his explanations. "I wish for you to come and visit Armir's grave." he said solemnly. "It is only fitting after all, that you pay her proper respects after what you and she have been through together. Do you not think so?"
For the longest time all Legolas could do was gape helplessly, his mouth slightly open as he struggled futilely to say something. His head reeled with mixed thoughts and emotions. Go back to Rivendell? See Armir? Those were choices that had passed through the back of his mind several times before but never really surfaced into full consideration, and the reasons for it were quite obvious.
At last, Legolas managed to get a hold of himself and speak to the patiently waiting Lord.
"I mean you no disrespect, Master Elrond." he began, summoning up all his courage to say what he knew he must. "But I do not think it would be wise for me to visit Armir's grave." He paused and took a deep breath. "Not now, or ever."
Elrond's eyes clouded over with concern and puzzlement. "And why is that?" he demanded. "You loved her then, and still love her now, do you not?"
"Aye, my Lord, I love her." Legolas murmured, bravely keeping the tears welling his eyes in check. "I love her with everything my whole heart and soul could give. And that is why I cannot see her. It has been painful and difficult enough for me to go on with my life haunted by memories of her, and every day still I must struggle just to push myself through each moment without her by my side and with the knowledge that I can never see her, or hold her in my arms again.
"But have you not considered, my son, that perhaps what you do need to help give your heart peace is to see her one more time?" Elrond said, the kindness and pity in his voice striking guilt into Legolas. "If you visit her, she may just be able to help you, and somehow give you the strength you need."
Legolas sighed and shook his head. "All I have to do is close my eyes to catch a glimpse of her face in my mind, and already an overwhelming grief crushes my heart." he muttered. "What more if I were to see her with my open eyes, and watch her lie in a state of death that she so undeservingly fell into? For sure I would not survive."
"I am sorry Master Elrond." he said mournfully. "I long to do as you ask, truly. But this request . . . this is something I simply cannot do. I had promised Armir that I would continue to live my life, and I will not willingly place myself in any situation that may cause me to break that promise."
All this said, Legolas fell back into a silence that, though it showed regret and respect, made it clear that no one was going to be able change his mind. Not even the powerful Lord of Rivendell.
"Very well." Elrond said after a long pause, nodding his head gravely. "If that is your decision, I then have no choice but to respect it."
He then stepped closer to the distraught Mirkwood prince and patted his back consolingly.
"My granddaughter loved you immensely, Legolas, and she would have bound herself to you for all eternity had fate only given her the chance." he told him gently. "Because of this, I know that from now on, I shall always look upon you as my own son."
He smiled and gave the elf's shoulder an affectionate squeeze. "In case you do have a change of heart, young one, I want you to know that our kingdom shall always be open to your call. And when that day comes, I shall be waiting to gladly welcome you home."
"And so will Armir."
* * *
COMING UP . . . CHAPTER 2 - RETURN
Interesting start, eh? Sorry, a bit of an abrupt ending there! Hehehe . . . but I hope I did not disappoint so far!
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