~Destined to Be~

First I would like to start with a few warnings.
WARNING – This story contains the following:
mushy, sappy romance
some explicit sexual content in later chapters
representation of Legolas in a slightly out of character manner
mild violence and angst
a scattering of flashbacks in chronological order

Chapter 1 – A Life to Protect​

The Present

The Sea of Rhun extended far to the south, the wind blowing gently across the tall grass lining its banks. A variety of birds flitted among the nearby trees, chirping excitedly at the intrusion of the approaching mass of people on horseback.

An Elf rode several paces ahead of everyone else, his spirited gray mount snorting in frustration at the slow pace. He shifted his eyes to the body of water on his left, searching for signs of danger, listening to every sound that reached his pointed ears. Although nothing had threatened them thus far since leaving the safety of the walls of Rhûnen, there was always a possibility of an Orc attack.

Legolas turned his attention back to the path in front of him. The land stretched out for miles and miles, barren of any hills. He knew what laid ahead for he had once traveled the same way, a little over a decade ago. Two full days of arid flatlands awaited them at this pace. He decided maintaining a course along the banks of the sea would be beneficial to the others, for once they crossed the River Carnen, they would go nearly a week before seeing another body of water. Water needed to be conserved and bathing would be a long-forgotten luxury, even for himself or the princess.

He turned his head to look over his right shoulder. Twenty-two Rhûnen citizens traveled with him. The majority made up the king’s guard, many of whom he was proud to call friends. The rest consisted of four of the king’s advisors and two women. One of the women was Silivrén, the king’s daughter. The other was her elderly handmaiden, Teress.

Legolas spoke not a single word to Silivrén since they departed her realm. It disturbed him to think he needed to distance himself from her, both physically and mentally. After all the years that passed, although not so long for an Elf, it would be difficult. The feelings he tried to lock away of late continued to pain him and he knew they would indefinitely.

How much heartache could an Elf tolerate before he faded from the living world? Everyone he knew and loved either had sailed West or died. Aragorn and Arwen were long gone and to the Undying Lands his father had sailed. Even his stout dwarf friend, Gimli…perished of old age. Now Silivrén was about to be taken from him. Nothing else tied him to his existence in Middle-Earth.

Perhaps it was better this way. Afterall she would eventually die like all the others and he would still be alone.

Silivrén was not so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t notice Legolas looking back in her direction. She knew the reason for his silence and didn’t question it. Her own thoughts were troubled beyond measure.

How had it come to this? Why did fate bring them together over a decade ago…only to rip them apart?

All her life, she was given anything she could ever want. But being the king’s daughter came with a price. The price of freedom. She was never alone, never unescorted. The king of Rhûn had no other heirs. Silivrén was the last of the royal line. She understood why her safety was so vital. What she didn’t understand was why she couldn’t make her own decisions? She was given no choice in the matter. She was destined to reign, whether she desired it or not.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of hoofbeats. She looked up and saw Legolas cantering toward her. He slowed Alagos and spun him around to ride side by side with her.

Silivrén studied his features. She was all too familiar with the many emotions that crossed the Elf’s face. His current look reflected the melancholy state of his mood. Then he gave her a barely noticeable wink, obviously so the others in their party would not see.

The wink reminded Silivrén of another time, when the mysterious Elf named Legolas first came to Rhûn. She had only been ten years of age at the time. The memory of that initial meeting was forever burned in her mind. Being so young, she was extremely impressionable and curious about everything new she encountered. Having heard so much about the Elves from her mother, it was only natural for her to become infatuated with the beautiful being that soon became an indispensable part of her life.
At Ten Years of Age

Young Silivrén stared wide-eyed toward the center of the arena. She was fascinated by the presence of one of the competitors. His luxurious, golden-white hair flew like silk around his fair face with every move he made. The sides were braided in plaits and he sported a braid at the back of his head. His movements were graceful as he contended against the kingdom’s finest soldiers. Many of the soldiers under the king’s command were known to be the best in all of Rhûn, surpassing even the skills of the Corsairs or the Haradrim that also came to compete. But this solitary Elf was defeating any that went against him.

First he dominated the competition in archery. Every single arrow was shot with unmatched precision. With his solid stance and the strength in his arms as he stretched the bowstring, he made it seem effortless in comparison to the other competitors

Next he revealed his amazing ability at swordplay. Rather than a broadsword, the Elf had two long knives with curved blades and white handles. He skillfully blocked the blows of his opponents and barely stopped short of cutting off their heads or limbs as he defeated them with such ease.

The king of Rhûn watched the competition from his place in the stands. His interest in the event was of a personal nature. He would ask the winner to join his regime and to personally safeguard the life of the princess. Rataman was most impressed with the skills of the Elf and was already thinking about not waiting for the competition to end before making his choice. “I have never seen such proficiency in all of my days,” he stated.

An advisor seated behind the king leaned forward. “The Elf hails from Mirkwood.”

“Mirkwood? Where is that?”

“An Elven realm situated far north in Rhovanion.”

King Rataman knew the Elven woods to the northwest had been avoided for many centuries by the people of Rhûn. Trade routes were maintained in the Haradwaith regions to the south, while the lands of Elves and Men were circumvented. There were solid reasons to avoid them…and for that Rataman was remorseful. With all that transpired nearly two millennia ago, Rataman wondered if the Elf was intentionally demonstrating his skill to prove his superiority. “What is the identity of this Elf?” he curiously asked Koran.

“He is Prince Legolas, son of King Thranduil of Mirkwood,” replied the advisor.

Silivrén turned to her father. “He is a prince?”

The advisor continued, “He also personally participated in defeating Sauron decades ago.”

Rataman nodded thoughtfully, his decision made. Then he glanced in the direction of the guard captain standing a few feet away. “Bring him to me.”

“The competition is not yet over, my Lord,” Collin objected. “Someone else may still have an opportunity to win.”

“Considering how things have progressed thus far, I find that hard to believe. Bring him to me,” the king repeated.

The captain of the guard bowed his head and quickly departed.

Rataman turned back to witness the Elf defeat yet another opponent, the Corsair’s sword flung high into the air and behind him.

Cheers for the Elf followed. He had quickly become the people’s favorite as he won each part of the competition. Despite the cheers of the spectators, the Elf humbly didn’t acknowledge the praise.

Rataman turned to his daughter and smiled at the fascination upon her face. Before she died two years ago, his wife frequently enchanted their daughter with stories of the beautiful Elves she had once crossed paths with. It was from that moment on that Silivrén had an unrelenting desire to see one up close. Rataman was well aware of it and now she would have an Elf as her very own personal guardian. “It seems your fondest wish is about to come true, my little Silivrén.”

When the king first told his daughter the main purpose of the competition, she vehemently argued that she needed no such bodyguard. He tried to explain the dangers of being a princess, but she was too young to truly comprehend her status.

As the games began, Rataman was aware the very sight of many of the opponents seemed to disgust Silivrén. Especially the foul looking Corsairs. Although cleaner in appearance, the Haradrim warriors seemed cold and unforgiving even to him, so he imagined the thoughts rolling in his young daughter’s mind. To have any one of them in her personal company, for every moment of her days and nights, and even in her own bed chamber…it seemed unthinkable. Rataman had yet to determine the Elf’s countenance, but he was fairly certain he might prove to be a far better guardian than any of his own soldiers.

Legolas ascended the steps of the arena stands, following the captain of the guard to a section reserved for the king and his advisors. When the captain first approached and informed him the king wanted to meet him, he went without question. He had hoped to gain the king’s favor by demonstrating his honed abilities. And now the moment had arrived.

The guard left him standing before the king. Legolas respectfully bowed his head and kept his eyes lowered. “My Lord.”

“I have been told that you are Prince Legolas,” said the Rhûn king.

When the king waved him closer, Legolas stepped forward and finally raised his eyes. “That is correct.”

“As prince, are you not needed by your father and your own kingdom?”

“Most of my kind have sailed to the Undying Lands, my Lord.” Legolas kept his voice neutral, but it was often difficult for him to relegate the authoritative tone after so many millennia commanding his father’s troops. “There is no kingdom for me to rule. Thus my title no longer holds any status.” He briefly glanced toward the terrified child sitting beside the king.

“Why have you not sailed with your kin?” the king continued.

Legolas turned to him again. “I don’t feel the pull of the sea. Tis apparent there is yet a venture the Valar wish me to fulfill.”

“You are far from your realm, Legolas.”

“My presentiment has led me to these lands.”

King Rataman accepted his words and stood up. “According to written history, our forefathers were mortal enemies.”

There was no need to deny the facts. History was history. “Tis true. The Wainriders defeated Gondor and enslaved many inhabitants of Rhovanion.”

“Were you among them at the time?” Rataman asked as he stepped forward.

“No, my father’s realm was far north in the woods. But we were prepared to fight if it came down to it.”

“I’m certain your people would have proven to be formidable.”

Legolas wondered if the king had requested his presence in order to discuss ancient history.

“I value my young daughter more than anything else in my life and I’m in need of someone with the appropriate skills to protect her. I’m most impressed with the displayment of your abilities today and greatly desire to enlist your services. That is, of course, as long as you hold no grudge against the kingdom of Rhûn for its past alliance with the dark lord.”

Legolas nodded his head in consent. “The past is just that…the past. I honorably accept the position, my Lord.”

With a smile Rataman placed a hand on Legolas’s shoulder. “Then I give you my daughter’s life to protect.”

“I will safeguard her with my own life.” Legolas tilted his face toward the child staring wide-eyed at him. He sensed her unbridled fear and yet he also felt a small measure of excitement exuding from her. Wanting to ease her apprehension, he raised the right corner of his lips, giving her an amicable smile. Then he followed it with an almost imperceptible wink of his right eye.

Even at her young age, Silivrén understood the feelings that made her heart pound uncontrollably. His eyes were a deep, brilliant blue, like nothing she had ever seen before. When he first caught her staring at him, she was terrified.

But Silivrén couldn’t look away from him. He was beautiful, almost like a woman. Yet he exuded an undoubted masculinity and she was awed by his presence. Standing so closely, he was far taller and leaner than seeing him from a distance. He appeared to be formidable, a commanding force to be reckoned with.

However, the moment he gave her the slightest wink, it instantly gave Silivrén a sense of the Elf’s playfulness. Her sudden apprehension at the sight of him quickly melted away. Perhaps he wouldn’t be so bad.

Later that evening, Silivrén’s handmaiden, Teress, just finished dressing the child for the night when the door suddenly swung open. Both Silivrén and Teress jumped and turned to see Legolas enter.

“A knock would have been in order, sir,” cried out Teress.

Legolas ignored her and proceeded to walk around the bed chamber, inspecting the geography of the room. He went to the window and looked down from it.

As he continued his inspection, Silivrén sat down at the edge of the bed. Drawing her knees up to her chest, she watched with amusement as Teress grabbed things out of his hands and placed them back where they belonged. He seemed genuinely curious about her personal items. The cloth doll sitting on the dresser, the bowlful of seashells.

“Do you mind?” Teress asked in exasperation.

Legolas continued to ignore the handmaiden and paused in front of the daybed beneath another window. “This is where I will sleep.”

Teress gasped in shock. “Absolutely out of the question! You will sleep outside of that door, on the floor, you tyrant.”

Silivrén covered her mouth with both of her hands to keep from laughing.

Legolas’s brows drew together as he turned to face the insubordinate handmaiden. “You will mind your tongue in my presence.”

“Careful, Teress,” young Silivrén interjected. “He is a prince.”

Teress huffed in disgust. “I care not if he is the king of Arda. He will not be allowed to sleep in this room.” To her surprise, the Elf unsheathed a white-handled long knife from his back and advanced upon her. She squeaked out a cry of fear and quickly bolted toward the door. “I will speak to the king about this.”

“Please do so,” replied Legolas. “For your information, by order of the king, I have been instructed as of this very moment to not ever let Silivrén out of my sight. I have also been instructed to terminate the life of anyone who prevents me from fulfilling that responsibility.” He gave her a lethal look. “I certainly hope you are not attempting to hinder me…my lady.”

Visibly shaken, Teress quickly left the chamber, closing the door behind her without another word.

Silivrén could no longer stop her laughter.

Legolas sheathed his long knife and turned to the girl with a raised eyebrow. “I certainly hope you agree that handmaidens are nothing but a nuisance.”

“She is far worse than my mother ever was,” Silivrén confessed with a giggle.

He unbuckled the strap at his chest and placed the quiver and weapons on the floor against the wall. Then he approached and knelt on the floor in front of Silivrén. “I spoke the truth when I said you will never be out of my sight.”

“Are you to follow me into the bath as well?” she asked, her blue eyes wide as saucers.

Legolas took her left hand and held it between both of his. “No, I will not follow you into the bath.”

After noticing the size of his hands in comparison to her tiny one, Silivrén looked up at his pleasant face. “You have very pretty eyes.” The words tumbled from her mouth before she could stop them.

He chuckled. “And so do you, little princess.”

“I have never met an Elf before.”

He smiled at her. “Is that so? Your name is Elvish.”

Silivrén’s jaw dropped in amazement. “I didn’t know that.”

“So if you’ve never met an Elf before, how did you come about such a name?”

“Mama named me, I suppose.” She looked thoughtful. “I do know she met an Elf or two before I was born.”

“Tis the color white you are named after. A glittering white, such as the sparkle in your eyes.” He playfully tickled the side of her neck.

Silivrén giggled bashfully and then a bold thought entered her mind. “May I touch your ears?”

He frowned slightly, but maintained his smile. “I do not think that is wise.”

“Why not?”

“The ears of an Elf are very sensitive.”

“Do you mean that it will hurt you if I touch them?”

There was a pause before he responded. “Tis best if I leave that question unanswered until you are older.” Before she could question him further, he stood up and pulled down the sheets of her bed, prompting her to get beneath them. He tucked the sheets around her and sat down on the edge of the bed. “Trust your life to me, Silivrén. I will never let any harm come to you. And I will always be here should you need someone when you are feeling sad.”

“Sometimes I cry when I think of mama because I loved her and miss her so much. Do you cry when you think of those you love?”

He reached out to caress her cheek. “I do because they are gone and I miss them terribly.”

“You are all alone then?”

He gave her a warm smile. “Not anymore.”

Without thinking, Silivrén sat up and wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. “I’m so pleased you are my guardian, Legolas.”

“So am I.” When she released him, Legolas tucked her back beneath the covers and bent to press a soft kiss upon her forehead. “Maer velui, Erelei.”

Silivrén smiled at his pretty words. “What does that mean?”

“Pleasant dreams, sweet one.”

When he brushed his thumb over her brow, she felt her eyelids begin to grow heavy. “Will you teach me to speak your language?” she whispered.

“I will do whatever you desire.”

Silivrén drifted off to sleep with a smile on her face.

Legolas remained seated beside her for awhile before he moved to sit on the daybed. But he continued to listen to her steady breathing, becoming familiar with its pattern so that in the future he would be alerted to the slightest change and know if something was wrong.

 

Chapter 2 – Sentinel​

The Present

Darkness came on the first night of their journey. Legolas called for a halt near the bank of the sea. Being an Elf, he could have continued on through the night without stopping, but he knew his company needed to rest.

After dismounting, Legolas quickly removed his horse’s tack and turned Alagos loose to wander toward the water for a drink. Then he approached Collin and conferred with him for a moment before the captain of the Rhûn guards yelled out instructions to the rest of the men. They were to set up camp and post four watches around the perimeter.

Legolas watched as his orders were carried out. A number of tents went up within minutes. One would be occupied by Silivrén and her handmaiden, the others occupied by the advisors. Legolas didn’t plan on using a tent. He would rest wherever he could find a solitary place, probably on the branch of a nearby tree.

His attention was drawn by a commotion near one of the wagons carrying provisions and baggage. Even from across the campsite, he could hear Silivrén’s frustrated sigh.

“Please, Teress, I don’t care what I wear to bed. There is no need to take everything out.”

“Nonsense, child,” replied the handmaiden. “You will look presentable after your bath.”

“Might I ask who I must look presentable for? We are in the middle of the wilderness.”

Legolas smiled to himself. Silivrén had been dead set against her handmaiden accompanying her on this trip. But Teress was undaunted and in the end, King Rataman made the decision that the handmaiden would go. Now Legolas wondered if Silivrén harbored a secret plan to tie up Teress and leave her somewhere behind.

A quick glance around revealed all was in order. The tents were ready for their occupants, a meal was being prepared for everyone, the horses were all unsaddled and tended to.

Legolas approached one of the tallest trees near the bank and jumped to grab the lowest branch. He pulled himself up and began climbing higher. From this vantage point he could see and hear the entire campsite and a fair distance in every direction.

Most of the conversations that soon followed revolved around the quality of the meal being served, the warmth of the evening air, the aches of an advisor who wasn’t used to long hours in the saddle and complaints about the length of the trip. Legolas tried to ignore the ramblings coming from the campsite and focused on the sounds beyond.

A short while later the sound of splashing drew his attention and he turned toward the water. His eyes penetrated the near darkness and concentrated on a speck of light. There he saw Silivrén bathing while Teress held up a lantern. He knew he shouldn’t have been watching her while she was unclothed, but he couldn’t find the ability to look away.

Despite the warmth of the air, the water was surprisingly cool. Silivrén would have remained in the water for a bit longer, but the shadows in the reeds were frightening and she wanted nothing more than to hurry through her bath and get back to the light of the camp.

As she began to wade back to shore, her eyes picked up a movement in a nearby tree. She spotted Legolas sitting on a branch. The light of the moon reflected on his pale hair and she could clearly see he was looking in her direction. But then he turned away as Teress wrapped a towel around her.

Silivrén wondered how long he had been watching her bathe. Having known the Elf for over ten years, she was certain he was aware of her every move. His devotion to her protection never waned throughout the years, from the day his duty first began.
At Ten Years of Age

On the first day of his duty, Legolas walked along the edge of a rooftop, moving parallel to the path his young ward took. With his quiver strapped to his back, he held his bow in his left hand. He watched Silivrén skipping toward a grassy area where two young girls were sitting together. They were cheerfully making flower wreaths.

“What did I miss?” asked Silivrén as she immediately sat down between them.

“Harker tried to kiss Saleena,” replied one of the girls.

Silivrén’s jaw dropped. “Yuck!” But then she started giggling with her friends.

Legolas stepped to the closest point of the rooftop and crouched down. From this spot he would be able to see if anything or anyone dangerous approached.

One of the girls screeched and pointed toward him. “Look there! Someone is on the roof!”

Silivrén looked to where her friend Lorin pointed and saw Legolas. “That’s just Legolas. He’s my protector.”

“Your protector? What is he protecting you from?” asked Saleena.

“I don’t know,” Silivrén replied with a shrug. “But Papa insists I have protection at all times.”

“Maybe he’s here to protect you from boys like Harker, to keep them from kissing you,” said Lorin.

Legolas unsheathed a long knife and while remaining in a crouched position he began to run a whetstone along the edge of the blade.

All three girls stared transfixed in his direction, watching him sharpen the knife.

“Harker would be wise to stay away from you,” harped Saleena. “Something might get… cut off.”

Legolas paused mid-swipe and made an effort to contain his smile as he listened to them from the rooftop.

Saleena studied Silivrén’s guardian. “He is rather handsome.”

Silivrén narrowed her brows at her friend. “Just because you are four years older than me doesn’t give you the right to lust over my Elf.”

“Your Elf?” drawled Saleena.

“Aye, he is mine. Papa gave him to me.”

Legolas paused again, amused that she would think he was her possession. But he remembered she was just a young girl who was no doubt trying to impress her friends.

“Now I remember him,” Lorin cried out. “He was the one I saw at the games yesterday. He beat the king’s own soldiers.” She shivered. “Aren’t you afraid he’ll cut your throat while you sleep?”

Silivrén frowned again. “Legolas is not like that. He’s kind and gentle with me and he makes me laugh.”

Lorin shook her head. “He doesn’t look funny to me.”

Biting her lower lip, Silivrén confessed, “I told him last night he had pretty eyes.”

The other girls burst into fits of laughter.

“I think I might fancy him when I am older,” teased Silivrén.

Legolas tolerated their juvenile quips about him for most of the morning. He wasn’t offended, afterall they were only children and their statements were innocent enough.

As Silivrén headed back to the palace, she glanced up to find Legolas moving along the rooftops of the homes she passed. When he reached the end of one roof, he jumped across to the next. At times the distance between rooftops was great, yet he effortlessly leaped without faltering.

When she neared the front gates, Legolas jumped down to the street and approached to walk by her side. “Did you enjoy the time with your friends?” he asked.

“I did.”

Before she could get within hearing distance of the guards posted on either side of the gates, Legolas placed a hand on her shoulder to halt her progress. She curiously looked up at him. Having mulled over whether or not to say anything, Legolas quickly made a decision. “Be mindful of what you say and do, Erelei. I can hear and see things even from a great distance.”

Silivrén’s eyes widened as realization sunk in. “You heard us.”

When he saw the color rise to her cheeks, he gave her a smile. “Nothing was said that I haven’t heard spoken about me before.”

“You are not angry?” Silivrén carefully asked.

“Of course not.” He cupped her chin. “In fact, I found it rather amusing.” He released her and motioned toward the gates. “Go on, I’ll catch up.”

Silivrén took two steps back, then turned and ran as fast as her feet could carry her. She tried to recall everything she and her friends had rambled on about Legolas and was mortified to know he had heard every word.

Legolas watched her dash away, sensing her embarrassment. But he had made the right decision in telling her about his enhanced Elven abilities. He wanted her to be aware he could hear her so she wouldn’t embarrass herself again.

As he walked to the gates, he acknowledged both guards with a nod and passed the threshold to enter the palace grounds. When he looked toward the grand entrance of the palace, he saw Silivrén turning to run in the direction of the stables instead. He followed her.

When Legolas reached the stable entrance, he peered inside before entering. He found Silivrén opening his horse’s stall door. Alagos was young and spirited and he feared the young stallion would bolt and harm Silivrén. But his mind was eased when Alagos carefully lowered his head to receive a caress from her. Legolas approached and stepped into the stall to join them.

Silivrén saw the Elf come up beside her. She continued to caress the beautiful gray stallion’s face. “What’s his name?” she asked in a whisper.

“Alagos.”

“Does his name mean something in your language?”

“Yes, it means windstorm and he has proven to be just as fast.”

Silivrén let her hands drop down to her sides and large tears began to slide down her cheeks. “I’m sorry,” she choked out.

Legolas was surprised at the suddenness of her tears. He turned her around and lowered himself to his knees before taking her into his arms. “Why are you sorry?”

“I’m…I’m ashamed of the things I said about you.”

“No, Erelei, you said nothing wrong. I take no offense, honestly.”

Silivrén pressed her face against his shoulder. She liked the way he smelled…the scent of the outdoors after an early morning rainfall.

Legolas gently caressed her back in an attempt to soothe her. “I know you meant no harm. Don’t ever be ashamed.” When she had stopped shaking from her sobs, he released her and reached up to wipe the tears from her cheeks. He smiled and motioned toward his horse. “Alagos is in need of exercise. Will you ride him with me?”

Silivrén attempted a smile and nodded.

Legolas stood and picked Silivrén up, carefully placing her astride the stallion’s bare back. Then he vaulted up behind her. “Hold his mane tightly.”

“But we ride with no saddle or bit?”

“Fear not, Erelei, I will not let you fall.” Legolas tapped his heels against the stallion’s sides and Alagos proceeded out of the stall at a walk.

By the time they reached the meadow behind the palace, Alagos was racing at a full gallop and Silivrén was laughing hysterically. She had both hands tangled in the gray mane, while Legolas had one hand in the mane and the other holding tightly to her so she wouldn’t fall.

Legolas was happy Silivrén had forgotten her humiliation. Her laughter warmed his heart and he urged Alagos even faster, much to her delight. From that moment on, he would make it his goal never to allow sorrow of any kind to overwhelm her.

 

Chapter 3 – A Walking Disaster​

The Present

The Rhûn company stopped for the third night of their long journey. Silivrén dismounted and watched Legolas talking to Collin as he had done on the two previous nights. Then the Elf pointed out into the darkness, away from the torches that provided them light. After Collin nodded and walked away, she walked up to Legolas. “Are you going somewhere?”

“To patrol the area,” he said as he checked the stash of arrows in the quiver strapped to his back.

“I’m going with you.”

Legolas shook his head. “Tis out of the question, Silivrén. You will remain here with Teress, in the safety of Collin and his men.”

“I care not for my handmaiden’s company, Legolas, you know that. Besides, I feel safer alone with you than under the protection of my father’s entire regime.”

His eyes scanned the immediate area to see if anyone watched them. Teress moved closer, pretending to be preoccupied with a bundle in the back of the wagon. But he knew she was listening to them. “Istale min ú-bad revia erui. Thurin ú–anna ammen.” (You know we cannot go off alone. Such liberties are no longer allowed.)

Silivrén had grown fairly proficient in the Elvish language throughout the years in Legolas’s company. “Im iest le, Legolas,” she stammered in desperation. (I miss you)

“Man car le iest nin mar nin na si an le pansen annan?” (How can you miss me when I’ve been here with you all along)

“Ha nin ú-man ind a le isto ha.” (Tis not what I mean and you know it.)

It pained Legolas to see such sadness in Silivrén’s eyes. She was always positive and energetic, always vibrant and passionate. He wasn’t used to seeing such a lack of cheerfulness in her. But regardless of her emotional state, he knew he needed to address the immediate issue and set the proper expectations. He couldn’t risk anything being misinterpreted. “Min ú-bad adanir rada thia nad.” (We cannot go back to the way things were.”

Silivrén looked down, knowing the truth in his words, yet not having the ability to control the tears that immediately stung her eyes. “I have often wished of late…that I had never grown up. That I had remained a child forever.” She looked up at him again. “Do you recall the fun we had, Legolas?”

His saddened eyes looked deeply into hers. “I recall every single moment, Silivrén and I will cherish those memories forever.” Then he briefly smiled. “Even the times I wanted to bend you over my knee and whip your behind with the shaft of an arrow.”

Silivrén wiped at the tears in her eyes and laughed. “Was I so bad as a child to warrant such abuse?”

“Aye, on many occasions,” he said with a sideward glance before walking away.

She watched him disappear completely in the darkness of night. Her thoughts drifted to another time, remembering a certain deviant incident that had disrupted a very important delegation that justified her to receive the beating of her life. The memory of the boldness of her actions at such a young age brought a smile to Silivrén’s face. If it hadn’t been for Legolas’s intervention, she might not have been able to sit for quite a long time.
At Eleven Years of Age

Teress adjusted the high collar of Silivrén’s gown and finally stepped back to admire her. “There, now you look like a true princess.”

Silivrén scowled at her handmaiden and folded her arms angrily across her chest. “I hate this gown. Why must I wear it?”

“Because your father wants you to look your best so he can introduce you to some very important people.”

“But I don’t want to meet any of his stuffy, old associates,” Silivrén said with a stomp of her foot. When she spied Legolas stepping out of the bath chamber, she tried to go to him, but Teress prevented it. His hair was damp from his daily cleaning ritual that amused Silivrén to no end. No one in the entire kingdom ever looked as spotless every single day.

Clad in only his white robe, Legolas was not the least bit bashful in his slight attire. He turned his attention to Silivrén and snorted in disgust. “That gown is hideous!”

Silivrén cried out, “You see?”

“I made this myself,” defended Teress. “What would you know of gowns, you savage?” As Legolas took an angry step toward Teress, she quickly stood up and then fell backward into the open wardrobe, knocking some of Silivrén’s clothing off the hooks. She recovered herself and held her nose up with pride.

Legolas sneered at the handmaiden. “Perhaps I should walk about unclothed, like the savage you make me out to be. Would that suit you?” He reached down to the belt of his robe, with no intention of actually untying it except to frighten her.

Teress squealed and rushed out of the chamber, thoroughly amusing Legolas. He wondered why she bothered locking horns with him when she knew he had a physical advantage over her. Even though Legolas would never intentionally harm the handmaiden, he despised her meddlesome disposition.

Silivrén would have shared in the clowning had she not been so caught up in the issue with her gown. “Do you honestly think I look hideous in this gown?” Oblivious to the state of his attire, she rushed over to where he was selecting clean clothing from his drawer.

“Erelei, I didn’t say you looked hideous. I said your gown is hideous.” He proceeded to slide into his leggings first before removing his robe.

“This is terrible! What am I to do?”

“You are to do nothing. You will wear this…this gown to the delegation.”

“Fine. I will do as you say, but must I sit in the hall during the deliberations?”

“That is your father’s wish.” He slipped on a shirt and began to clasp it.

Silivrén groaned at length. “The discussions bore me to tears. Can’t we do something else?”

“Perhaps later. For now we must go to the king’s hall.”

“May I at least visit the puppies before we go? I so want to see them.” She graced him with her most charming smile.

Legolas sighed as he looked down at her. She knew the precise manner in which to force him to give into her every whim. “Very well. But don’t put a single stain on that atrocity of a gown.”

Silivrén hurried out of the chamber, welcoming anything that would delay the moment she was required in the king’s hall, although she truly did wish to see the puppies born only four days ago.

The kennels were a short walk away from the king’s hall. Silivrén went to Darri’s stall and found her lying with her six pups suckling greedily from her. Paying no heed to the white gown she wore, Silivrén sat on the straw and carefully picked one of the pups up to hold. Then she spent an extended amount of time holding each of the other pups, one at a time.

Legolas grew extremely impatient as he stood outside the kennel compound. He turned his head into the doorway. “Silivrén, you have wasted enough time!” he yelled inside. “Come out here now or I will throw you over my shoulder!”

Silivrén made a face and stuck her tongue out in the direction of the door. Then she stood up and stepped out of Darri’s stall. As she proceeded to walk down the center aisle, she absently unlatched each of the stall door locks along the way. Or perhaps she had done so on purpose. By the time she headed toward the King’s hall, all twenty-three hounds, except for Darri and her puppies, dashed out of the kennel compound.

Legolas jumped at the sight of the hounds rushing toward the king’s hall.

Bursting into laughter, Silivrén quickly ran to the door.

“Silivrén, no, stop!” yelled Legolas.

She ignored his warning and proceeded to open the door before any of the guards understood what was happening. The hounds squeezed through the doorway, barking and yapping all the way into the main hall. The sight that confronted Silivrén was something she would have laughed at, had she suddenly not realized the damage being done.

The hounds leaped on the tables, knocking over trays of food and spilling beverages all over the guests.

Thinking she could help the situation, Silivrén jumped up on one of the tables to breakup a pair of hounds battling for a large partridge on a platter. The terrified woman seated nearby screamed and her chair fell backward, her wig torn from her head by a passing hound.

Silivrén slipped on a plate of radishes and fell face first into a bowl of honey. When she recovered, she ran her hands over her sticky face to remove the globs of honey dripping from her. Then she stood up on the table once again and ran to the other side.

She didn’t get far as her eyes suddenly fell upon the infuriated face of her father. Not looking where she was going, she turned and tripped over one of the hounds on the table. She nearly landed into a pot of hot stew, only to have some of it splash onto her arm. There was no time to think about the sudden pain as she rolled off the table and toppled to the hard floor.

Legolas stood frozen at the door, his astonished eyes panning the chaos in the hall as the king’s hunting dogs terrorized the guests and battled over the banquet on the tables. How could they have caused so much damage in only two minutes?

Several of the Rhûn guards stood behind him, equally dumbfounded at what they saw. Legolas quickly set them to retrieving the dogs while he searched the room for Silivrén.

Silivrén crawled beneath the table until she reached the other end, only to be confronted with boots that looked all too familiar. A pair of hands pulled her up on her feet. When she looked up, she was staring into Legolas’s exasperated eyes.

“Are you all right?” he asked, more concerned for her welfare than anything else happening around them.

“You!”

Legolas turned to the source of the loud, livid voice and instinctly pushed Silivrén behind him.

Silivrén clung to his tunic and peered around his waist as he backed them away from the king, who advanced with a fury she had never seen before.

“Are you trying to ruin me?” the king yelled in his daughter’s direction.

She cowered behind Legolas, but kept staring around him to see the look on her father’s reddened face.

“What in blazes made you do this?” ranted King Rataman.

Legolas held a hand out. “My Lord, tis not Silivrén’s fault.”

“Do not lie for her, Legolas. I know what my own daughter is capable of. This is not the first time I have witnessed her antics.”

Legolas kept a protective hand around Silivrén, keeping her behind him.

Rataman was momentarily distracted as he watched the guards leash the hounds and escort them out. The guests were emerging from whatever place they had sought refuge from the animals. Not one had managed to avoid the flying food or beverages.

Silivrén was unable to stop her laugh at the sight around the hall.

Legolas turned angrily to her. “Silivrén, keep quiet.”

“Step aside, Legolas,” seethed the king.

Legolas turned back to the king and raised his chin with authority. “No, my Lord. I cannot allow you to exact physical punishment upon her.”

“She is a walking disaster! Get her out of my sight!”

Legolas continued to shield Silivrén from the king as he led her away.

As they walked out of the hall and proceeded down the corridor in the direction of her room, Silivrén kept looking up over her shoulder at Legolas. He appeared angry, but didn’t once look at her until they passed the threshold of her room. “I didn’t mean to release the hounds, Legolas.”

Legolas tilted his head in disbelief. “You can’t fool me, Silivrén. You knew exactly what you were doing. After this incident you know very well your father will never again allow you to attend a delegation.”

Silivrén continued to plead her case. “I honestly didn’t purposely do it.”

He cringed at the sticky substance on his hands from touching Silivrén’s gown. “There is no need to explain to me. I will call for Teress to help bathe you.”

Silivrén walked toward the bath door. “No, I don’t want Teress. I will bathe myself.”

While Silivrén soaked in the tub, she smiled to herself in satisfaction. If she never had to attend another delegation, that would suit her perfectly. Even though it took her some time to wash away the sticky honey from her hair, it was well worth the sacrifice. Not to mention that Teress’s ugly gown was ruined.

When she came out of the bath in a clean tunic, she paused near the door to determine Legolas’s mood. He was seated on the daybed, testing the fletching on each of his arrows. His movements were abrupt, leading her to believe that he was still angry.

Aware of her apprehension as she stood at the threshold between the chambers, Legolas looked up in her direction. “Tolo si.” (come here)

Silivrén slowly walked up to him, fearing that he might exact his own punishment after preventing her father from doing so.

Legolas pushed his arrows aside and reached for her hand. He pushed the sleeve upward from her arm to reveal a large red welt and then stood up. After retrieving a small vial from his dresser, he returned and had Silivrén sit on the daybed while he knelt in front of her. He poured some white lotion from the vile onto his hand and gently rubbed it on her arm.

Silivrén bit her lower lip to conceal the pain she felt. Soon the coolness of the lotion quickly took the burning away.

“How does that feel?”

“The pain is gone.” She gazed into his eyes, trying to read his thoughts. “I’m sorry.”

“There’s no need to seek my forgiveness.” He chuckled. “I was quite reckless myself as a child.”

“Will papa be angry with me for a long time?”

Legolas cupped her chin with a smile. “You know the power you hold over your father. He cannot resist you, no more than I can, Erelei.” Then he stood up and sat down beside her, resuming the inspection of his arrows. “Shall we resume your lessons?”

Silivrén lifted her feet up on the daybed and laid down on her side, her head resting on his lap. “Aye, saes.” (please)

“Telia is the feminine form of ‘to play’. The masculine form is telio. In a sentence combine the feminine form with words I’ve already taught you.”

“Im iest telia lin an finnel,” she said without hesitation.

Legolas stopped fletching and incredulously looked down at her. “You want to play with my hair?”

Silivrén burst into giggles.

Legolas spent the next few hours continuing to teach Silivrén his language. He was surprised that she picked it up rather quickly and could comprise whole sentences that actually made sense. It wouldn’t be long before they could have an entire Elvish conversation around others and no one would know what they were saying.

 

Chapter 4 – Always Afoot​

The Present

In the early morning the group crossed over the River Celduin, or River Running as others knew it. Later they traveled in a southerly direction along the outskirts of the Rhovanion woods. As much as it pained him to be near the land he came from, Legolas decided that heading directly west to Rhovanion was better than suffering the extreme heat of the desert south of Dorwinion. Besides, he had to face the facts sooner or later. The caverns of Thranduil had been empty for nearly a century since the Elven king sailed to Valinor. With Legolas living in Ithilien at the time and no one to care for the place, the walls of the caverns began to collapse…until there was hardly any evidence of their existence. The wood-elves were also long gone and the land had grown wild and unlivable.

Silivrén was curious to know the reason Legolas avoided taking them directly through the woods and nudged Anorcelair to a trot to catch up to him. “Why don’t we head north and stop at Lake-Town?”

“When was the last time you visited that place?” asked Legolas. He knew Silivrén was making every effort to prolong their journey. If it had been her choice, there never would have been a journey to begin with.

She shrugged. “I might have been five. Why do you ask?”

“Sixteen years ago. Tis a long time for a mortal. Long enough for a place that was once full of impressive shops and a myriad of recreation to be converted into an establishment for brigands of the worst kind.”

Her jaw dropped. “You cannot be serious.”

“I’m quite serious. If we were to ride into Lake-Town, one look at you, Silivrén and you would be someone’s main course.”

Silivrén swallowed hard, not liking the sound of his words. She felt sorrow knowing that the place she remembered receiving her very first stick of honey was no longer possible to visit.

When the sun set, Legolas drew Alagos to a halt and motioned to Collin who quickly shouted orders to set up camp. After dismounting, he turned his gaze to the nearby line of trees that led into the thick woodland.

“You have been quiet ever since we came near these woods, Legolas,” Silivrén stated with concern as she came to stand beside him.

Legolas gave her a brief glance before turning to the trees again. “I have been distracted by the trees. They speak to me.”

“What do they say?” she asked with genuine curiosity.

“They ask where I have been.” Then he turned to her with a smile. “I know these woods well and have not spoken to the trees here since I ventured east to Rhûn over ten years ago.”

“Is your home near?”

“Tis no longer livable. When my father left, his magic left with him and the earth above our caverns collapsed. There is nothing left to suggest an Elven kingdom had ever existed.”

“How sad. Did he not care about you or where you would live?”

“My father cared for me very much. I lived in Ithilien after Aragorn took his place as king of Gondor. But soon many Elves began leaving Middle-Earth and my father came to me before he left for the Grey Havens. He begged me to go with him.”

Even in the moonlight Silivrén could see tears beginning to glisten in his eyes.

“I couldn’t go. I made a promise to Aragorn that I wouldn’t leave until he had passed.”

“But King Elessar of Gondor died twenty years ago. What made you still linger?”

“I went to the Grey Havens and remained there for several weeks, waiting for the sea to call me, but I continued to feel no desire to sail. So I returned to Gondor to keep Arwen company.” Legolas looked down with narrowed brows. “But she didn’t last long after Aragorn died. I remained in Gondor for a time, helping Aragorn’s heir settle into his role as king. When I felt an urge to travel, I packed my things and left.” He looked up and turned to Silivrén. “As I told your father when I first came to Rhûn to compete in the games, the Valar have a task for me before I will be allowed to leave these shores. Perhaps I am to see you safely crowned queen.”

Silivrén frowned. She had hoped he remained because he loved her. “Of course. That must be the reason.” At the end of their journey, she would never see Legolas again and the thought sickened her.

Legolas looked into her eyes and his expression immediately took on a look of pain. “Silivrén, please don’t look at me that way.”

“What if he doesn’t find me beautiful?”

Legolas reached up to brush aside the hair that had fallen in front of her face. “I am certain you will leave him breathless.”

His fingers lingered near her cheek and Silivrén found herself leaning into his hand, turning her face to kiss his palm. But he removed his hand before anyone saw their intimate exchange. “I don’t want him to like me. Perhaps I’ll run away and hide.”

“If you run, you know I will be forced to pursue you,” he whispered.

“I would have you pursue me the rest of my days.”

Legolas closed his eyes, remembering a moment in time when Silivrén hadn’t wanted him to always be around. She had thought him to be a nuisance. He smiled to himself when he recalled how quickly Silivrén tended to change her mind.
At Thirteen Years of Age

Saleena and Lorin huddled with Silivrén behind the trough. They were terrified in a giddy sort of way, waiting to see if they would be discovered by the one that stalked them. Silivrén knew evading Legolas was nearly impossible. But with the help of her friends, they managed it, running as if their very lives depended on it, until they had hidden behind the trough in the stables.

Saleena giggled. “You see, he is not so vigilant as you think.”

Silivrén peered around the side of the trough, looking toward the doorway. “You don’t know Legolas as I do. He is ever persistent to keep me in his sights.”

Several wisps of straw rained down upon them from above, but they paid no heed as they continued to look toward the doorway, expecting Legolas to storm into the stables, knives in hand, as if Silivrén was in constant danger within the walls of her own kingdom.

“He is not coming, Silivrén,” said Lorin. “Let us make haste before the shopkeeper has no honey sticks left to give us.”

Silivrén grabbed Lorin’s wrist before she could rush out from behind the trough. “Wait! I sense his presence. I know he is near.” More straw fell from above and she instinctly looked up to see what was causing it. Her eyes widened upon seeing Legolas crouched on a beam above, casually dropping straw on them.

Both Saleena and Lorin screamed when he gracefully dropped down on the ground, as if the height was nothing more than a single step of a stairway. Silivrén tried her best to be unimpressed with his extraordinary Elven abilities. He was always doing things in an attempt to astonish her. She suddenly felt a strong loathing for his constant presence.

Despite the fact that Silivrén had tried to elude him, Legolas felt no anger as he advanced. “When will you learn, Erelei, that you can never evade me.” He turned to the other two girls, trying his best to appear angry, even though he truly wasn’t. “Off with both of you before I toss you into the fountain.”

Saleena and Lorin rushed out of the stables.

“I feel as though my own shadow constantly stalks me! Why can I not have time alone with my friends?” she screamed at him, never before feeling such rage.

Legolas was startled by her sudden anger. “Tis my duty, Silivrén.”

“I’m tired of your constant presence! I hate that you’re always afoot! Can you not simply hide somewhere so that I cannot see you?” She regretted her words the moment she spoke them. They stung him, she knew it even though the emotion appeared on his face for only a brief moment.

Legolas attempted to hide the reaction to her hurtful words. “If that’s your wish, so be it.”

Silivrén turned and started toward the door, trying to conceal the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes. When she turned to see if he was following, she found him gone. She glanced around the interior of the stables and looked in the rafters above. He was nowhere to be found. Was he indeed hidden or was he actually gone completely?

Guilt consumed Silivrén throughout the day and she hardly ate at the evening meal because Legolas wasn’t present. Not wanting her father to be suspicious that she might have something to do with Legolas’s absence, she remained silent and didn’t ask his whereabouts. Even when she retired for bed, Legolas was not in her chamber as he always was to wish her a goodnight before he retired to the daybed near her window.

Late into the night, Silivrén woke and quickly sat up. Relief flooded through her upon seeing Legolas lying on the daybed. “Legolas? Are you asleep?”

“I am awake,” came his whispered reply.

Silivrén crawled out of bed and she moved closer. When she was within a foot of the daybed, she stopped, feeling her eyes quickly fill with tears. “I didn’t mean what I said.”

Legolas sat up when he realized she was weeping.

She rushed forward, jumping on the daybed and throwing herself into his arms. “Please, forgive me.”

Legolas embraced her tightly and his hand gently caressed the back of her head. He was glad she didn’t mean her hurtful words, but he despised seeing her sad. “There is nothing to forgive, Erelei.” He kissed the top of her head. “I understand your frustration and will endeavor to keep out of sight when you are with your friends.”

“But only then. No other time do I wish you out of sight.”

“Of course,” he said and gently wiped the tears from her cheek. “But know that I will be at your side the moment I sense danger.”

“No one in my own kingdom would cause me any harm.”

“Aye, that may be so, but many visitors come to Rhûn. There are few I trust for I have known many who take children from their homes to be made into slaves. Especially pretty girls like you.”

“But I’m the king’s daughter. They wouldn’t dare take me.”

“Tis not a risk I am ever willing to take.” With a final kiss on the forehead, he released her and led her down to his pillow. “Go to sleep now.”

Silivrén curled up beside him while he remained sitting up, gently stroking her head. The feel of his fingers in her hair and the familiar scent of him soon lulled her back to sleep.

The next day Legolas disappeared the moment Saleena and Lorin joined Silivrén. But he remained ever watchful from a place she couldn’t see.

As Silivrén ran with her friends to the shopkeeper that sold every sweet thing imaginable, she found herself constantly looking over her shoulder, wondering where Legolas could be.

“Where is your guardian, Silivrén?” asked Saleena. “I don’t see him about.”

“He is near.”

“Where?”

“I don’t know exactly, but he isn’t far.” As the shopkeeper cheerfully handed each of the three girls a honey stick, Silivrén glanced over her shoulder and saw a Corsair standing nearby. She was about to look away when she noticed his eyes turning in her direction. “Let us depart quickly,” Silivrén advised her friends.

“Why?” asked Lorin. “I may want another one.”

Silivrén ignored Lorin and began to walk away. She glanced over her shoulder and suddenly realized the Corsair was following them down the road. He held something, a round object.

Saleena and Lorin followed Silivrén’s concerned look and saw the approaching Corsair. The three teenaged girls broke into a run.

The Corsair caught up to them in an instant. He reached out and grabbed Silivrén by the back of her gown. Saleena and Lorin didn’t stop, even when Silivrén struggled and cried out for help. The Corsair opened his hand to reveal a green apple. Suddenly the apple disappeared from his palm. With an arrow cleanly pierced through the center, it became embedded into the stone wall beside them. Silivrén turned toward the apple and realized something green was oozing from it. Perhaps a potion to make her sleep while the sneaky Corsair carried her away.

Before the Corsair even had a chance to see where the arrow had come from, Legolas was there, the blade of a long knife pressed against the foul man’s hairy throat. “That was your last mistake,” Legolas told him, teeth clenched in fury.

While the king’s guards came to take the Corsair away, Silivrén never left Legolas’s side. His arms were protectively wrapped around her. “He would have taken me away,” she said against his shoulder.

“I’m certain of it.” Legolas escorted Silivrén back to the palace to answer the inquiries he knew the king would surely have for him after this incident.

It was several weeks before Silivrén could sleep in her own bed. She sought comfort from him whenever she suddenly woke from a nightmare. Legolas knew it probably wasn’t appropriate for her to be sleeping in his bed at her age. She was getting older and would become curious about certain things he wouldn’t be able to explain. But he didn’t have the heart to turn her away.

 

Chapter 5 - Too Young
​

The Present

Their supply of water had nearly run out by the time they reached the southern tip of the Rhovanion woods. With many more days of travel to come, Legolas made the decision to take the group in a westerly direction toward the Anduin River. There they could replenish their stores of water in the wagons. The detour would add several more days to their journey, but he had no other choice. After relaying the change in route to the captain of the guard, Collin agreed it was the best option.

To their good fortune, while they traveled at a quicker pace, at midday the sky grew dark with clouds. On any other occasion, rain would have been a nuisance, but the sudden downpour was a welcome relief to the sweltering summer heat. The rain fell hard and Legolas led the company into the trees for shelter. He had wanted to avoid the woodland, but the trees would be needed to prevent the tents from blowing away in the torrent.

With the decision to make camp and remain for the rest of the day and night, Collin ordered barrels set out to catch the rain and everyone’s sour mood lifted at the promise of fresh drinking water. If they collected enough, then the detour to the Anduin River wouldn’t be necessary.

Legolas patrolled in the trees, making certain there were no hidden dangers lurking around. They were close to Dol Guldur and the region was known to still harbor a few stray Orcs. So far he hadn’t seen any. The woods were quiet, except for the sounds of the camp not far away and the rain pelting the leaves all around him.

He closed his eyes and tilted his head upward, letting the raindrops cascade down on his face. It felt good to be this close to nature. He had missed it terribly during his stay in Rhûn over the last few years.

Then he heard someone calling out his name. He knew the voice. Silivrén.

When Legolas looked down from his perch, he saw her stumbling around on the ground in her rain soaked gown, turning in every direction, searching for him. What was she doing, wandering the woods, away from the protection of the Rhûn guards. He immediately stood up and dropped down from the branch.

Silivrén yelped when Legolas suddenly landed on his feet directly in front of her. But she was used to him making surprise appearances and she recovered quickly. “I was looking for you.”

“What’re you doing out here alone?” he angrily asked. “I warned you of the dangers that lurk in these woods.”

“I’m not alone,” she countered. “You’re here.”

His eyes scanned her face and hair, dampened from the rain and his anger quickly melted away. He could never stay angry with her. She moved closer to him, reaching up to push aside a strand of hair that had fallen over his forehead and tucked it behind his ear. Her fingers gently brushed over the tip of it. Whether the touch had been innocent or deliberate, it mattered little to Legolas. He closed his eyes in an attempt to suppress the intensity of his need for her. It had been a constant struggle since the journey began over a week ago.

When Silivrén pressed herself against him and drew her lips to within a hair’s breadth of his, he felt his control slipping. Just one more time. What harm would come of it…just one more time. He allowed her to brush her lips against his. She kissed him with an open mouth, her fingers tracing along the edge of his ear. His lips parted and he responded with unbridled passion, tasting the sweetness he was so familiar with.

Valar, how would he ever find the strength to walk away from her? She had become his whole world…his joy, his pride, his desire, his love. Never in his long life had he ever discovered such unconditional fulfillment with any other. Never had he known a woman in the manner he knew Silivrén. He knew her intimately, in both a physical and mental way.

It seemed an eternity since the last time he had kissed her and the pleasure flowed through him like the rush of a waterfall. Their lips moved intimately against one another’s, tongues slowly touching and tasting, teeth hungrily nipping. He wanted more…he needed more...

But it could not be. His conscience wouldn’t allow it.

Legolas reluctantly drew away from her lips and leaned the side of his face against hers, not yet willing to push her completely away. “Please…don’t tempt me further, Erelei. I beg of you.”

Silivrén wrapped her arms around him. “You haven’t called me that in a long time.”

“Tis an endearment I should no longer have the privilege to call you.”

“I love you, Legolas. I will never love another.”

The sound of approaching footfalls forced Legolas to pull back and step away from her. Collin appeared with Silivrén’s frantic handmaiden at his heels.

Silivrén gave Legolas a heart-wrenching look of desire before she turned and walked toward the others.

Legolas gave Collin a nod that all was well before the captain left with the two women to return to their campsite. The Elf went back into the trees to resume his patrol. But Silivrén’s words sparked a memory from years ago. I will never love another. Those same words spoken by a young girl still years away from becoming a woman. Who would have known she truly meant them at the time.

At Fifteen Years of Age

Legolas kept out of sight in a tree as Silivrén danced with her friends in a circle around a roaring fire in the woods just beyond the walls of Rhûn. He might have been invisible to anyone below, but he was vigilant and prepared to spring into action if the need arose.

After awhile Silivrén dashed away with a local young man Legolas recognized. He no sooner trusted Harker than he did a venomous snake, so he hopped from one branch to another to follow them.

When they toppled on a patch of grass beneath a large tree, Legolas remained hidden above and listened to their discussion.

“If I hadn’t been away to Khand, I would have called on you sooner,” said Harker.

“I thought you had your heart set on Saleena,” replied Silivrén.

“No, Silivrén, my heart is set on you.”

As Legolas watched them, his brows narrowed slightly. He knew Harker was four years older than Silivrén. Did he even know she had yet to come of age?

“Would your father allow me to court you?” Harker asked hopefully.

Silivrén was staring at him in confusion. “I know not what papa would allow.”

“Perhaps tis best we don’t say anything at all then.”

“But what is expected of me, Harker? I know only what my friends tell me.”

“I will show you.”

Legolas’s eyes widened when Harker suddenly pulled Silivrén to him and pasted his lips against hers. When he saw she didn’t refuse Harker, Legolas immediately looked away, allowing the private moment between them. But he felt a strange tinge of jealousy that this inconsiderate young man had the privilege of giving Silivrén her first kiss. He closed his eyes and shook his head to relieve himself of the thoughts running rampant in his mind.

Suddenly Legolas heard Silivrén cry out. He turned to witness her trying to push Harker away and Harker clinging to her for another kiss. Legolas wasted no time and in seconds flew off the branch to land at their feet. He picked up Harker by the shoulder and tossed him nearly six feet away. Harker was quickly forgotten as Legolas pulled Silivrén up by the hand. “Are you all right?”

“I am fine,” she said before turning angry eyes in Harker’s direction.

Legolas followed her gaze and the minute Harker saw the angry look in the Elf’s eyes, the young man jumped to his feet and ran away as if a dragon pursued him. “Are you certain he didn’t hurt you?” Legolas asked as he turned back to Silivrén.

Silivrén suddenly threw her arms around Legolas and clung to him as if her life depended on it. “He tried to put his tongue in my mouth. It was repulsive.”

Legolas allowed her to take comfort in his embrace, but when she wasn’t showing any signs of releasing him, he gently tugged her away. “If you are fine then, do you wish to return to the gathering?”

“I don’t know if I want to go back just yet. I want to understand why he would think I wanted his tongue in my mouth. What does it mean?”

Legolas looked up for a moment, wondering how he was going to answer the question without raising many others in the process. “Well, uhm…” He looked down at her and was suddenly aware how much she had actually grown in the last few years. She was taller, her face nearly reaching his shoulder where before she barely reached his waist. He knew humans matured much quicker than Elves and even though she looked mature enough, she was only fifteen. “Perhaps you should ask Teress. I’m not qualified to answer your question.”

“Why not?”

“Silivrén, he kissed you. It’s just part of it.” He saw the confusion on her face and dreaded having to explain in further detail.

“How does one use their tongue to kiss? I don’t understand.”

Legolas rolled his eyes. “I cannot explain it.”

“Then show me.”

He laughed. “I cannot kiss you, Erelei. You are too young.”

“Harker obviously didn’t think I was too young. Perhaps I should have let him continue.”

Legolas angrily pointed a finger at her nose. “Stay away from Harker or I will see to it he has no hands to touch you with,” he said in a serious tone.

“Do you not love me, Legolas?”

He frowned as he fought for the appropriate words. “You know I do. Tis the reason I try to keep you safe from young men like Harker.”

Silivrén hugged him again. “I love you, too.”

“I know.”

She looked up at him, her eyes hopeful. “If you love me as I love you, then I see nothing wrong with sharing a kiss.”

Legolas cupped her chin. “Look, Erelei, you will think different of me by the time you reach the age of consent. There are many suitors who will rival for your attention and you may fall in love with one of them.”

“I will never love another.”

He smiled. “You cannot make such a promise.”

“I find it difficult to trust anyone except you.”

“Things will change.” He took her hand. “Come, I will return you to your friends.” As he led her away, Legolas sighed in relief for having avoided a complicated situation.

Later when their merrymaking ended, Legolas escorted Silivrén back to the palace and to her rooms. He contemplated packing his things and taking up residence in one of the other rooms nearby, but he knew Silivrén would be dead-set against it. Instead he decided he would need to be careful around her from that moment on. Her growing curiosity about him would only create many more uncomfortable situations.

 

Chapter 6 - The Wounded​

The Present

Many days passed before they were no longer in sight of the Rhovanion woods. The plains beyond were uneven and Legolas was suddenly more alert than he had ever been since leaving Rhûn. He slowed the company to a walk, his eyes scanning the area and seeing things none of the others were capable of.

The captain of the guard trotted up beside Legolas when the Elf motioned to him. “What is it?”

Legolas continued to scan the area. “There are Orcs here. I can smell them.”

“What do you suggest?” asked Collin.

“Move the men closer together and form a perimeter around the princess. We must protect her at all costs.”

Collin moved off to follow Legolas’s instructions and soon the guards closed the gaps between each other and formed a tight circle around the two women, four advisors and supply wagons. Legolas remained in the lead with bow in hand, his head in constant motion as he listened to every sound that reached his ears.

They traversed the hilly plains at a walk, moving together as if they were a single entity.

Suddenly Legolas released his reins and quickly drew an arrow from his quiver, notching it before anyone could blink. Alagos reared and Legolas released the arrow into the throat of an Orc that emerged from beneath a patch of grass.

Then chaos erupted as more Orcs came out of hiding.

Silivrén panicked as she watched the enfolding battle. There were nearly thirty Orcs and only sixteen guards and one Elf to contend with them. She had a bow and quickly began releasing arrows at any Orcs that were close enough to pose a threat.

It wasn’t long before some of the Rhûn guards started to fall. Legolas tried his best to prevent any deaths, firing his arrows before any Orcs could deliver any death blows. But at all times he kept a watchful eye on Silivrén’s position.

In the midst of the chaos, Anorcelair reared and Silivrén slid off the mare’s back, falling to the ground. As she recovered, two Orcs were coming at her from opposite directions. Silivrén nervously struggled to notch an arrow and finally released it at one of the hideous creatures, but knowing she’d never have the time to kill the other. The Orc screeched as it raised its rusty blade. Just as Silivrén thought she was going to lose her head, an arrow suddenly slammed into the Orc’s face. She recognized the color of the fletching and knew it belonged to Legolas. The Orc fell, but released his arrow, which haphazardly flew somewhere behind her.

When Silivrén turned she was confronted with a terrifying sight. The arrow released by the Orc lodged into Legolas’s left shoulder and he flew off the back of his horse with a grunt. She gasped and rushed toward him. But Legolas was on his feet and drawing one of his long knives to engage in close combat. Even without the use of his left hand, Legolas slashed at the Orcs around him, fighting with more skill than a two-handed warrior.

Finally the last Orc was slain and silence soon followed.

Silivrén glanced around and the uninjured guards quickly began looking for the wounded.

Legolas shouted for tents to be erected and the wounded brought inside them. He also shouted for the Orc bodies to be placed in a pile further away and burned.

Collin rushed over to Silivrén. “Are you wounded?” he asked her.

“No, but Legolas is.”

Collin followed the princess to where Legolas stood shouting orders. “Is the arrow poisoned?” Collin quickly asked him.

Legolas shook his head. “I don’t smell any poison. Pull it out from behind.” When Collin gave him a surprised look, Legolas grabbed the front of the man’s tunic. “Just do it.”

Silivrén stood in front of Legolas as Collin circled to his back. There was a look in the Elf’s eyes, a look of fear she had never seen before. “Legolas? Have you ever suffered this kind of injury before?”

“No. Never.”

Collin looked over Legolas’s shoulder at Silivrén and then in one swift motion yanked the arrow out from the back.

Legolas released a blood-curdling howl of pain causing everyone around to pause what they were doing.

Silivrén watched with growing concern as Legolas gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut while he gasped for air.

It seemed forever before he opened his eyes again. “I…I am fine now.” Then his eyes rolled into the back of his head before he started to pitch forward.

Luckily Collin was there to grab him before Legolas fell to the ground. He carefully carried Legolas into one of the tents and laid him on a blanket Silivrén quickly spread on the ground.

Silivrén proceeded to remove Legolas’s jerkin and opened his blood-soaked shirt, thankful that he was not awake to feel the movements. The injury looked bad, worse than she had ever seen in her life.

Collin returned from retrieving medical supplies just as Legolas regained consciousness. “Perhaps I should tend to him, my lady,” Collin told her after noting the distraught look on her face.

“Do you think me not capable?” Silivrén snapped. “I have tended to wounds before.”

“Not like this, I’m sure.”

Silivrén pushed Collin toward the tent flap. “You have many others to tend to, Collin. Take care of your men. I will take care of Legolas.” After Collin exited the tent, Silivrén moved closer beside Legolas. He was writhing in pain and a sheen of sweat covered his face. Never in all the years she had known him had he ever broken a sweat. She cupped his face and leaned closer. “Legolas, can you hear me?” His eyes remained closed as he continued to squirm. “Stay with me, meleth. Don’t you dare fade on me.” (love)

Silivrén quickly began to clean and treat his wounds, at the front of his shoulder and then at the back where the arrow had been drawn out. Surprisingly, the wounds seemed to be healing of their own accord and she remembered the words of her mother when she was young. Elves have an amazing ability to heal themselves.

At long last Legolas slowly opened his eyes as she gently wiped the sweat from his face with a damp cloth. “Erelei,” he whispered softly and attempted a smile.

Silivrén was elated to see him smile. “I’m here.” When Legolas tried to sit up, she nudged him back down. “Give your body a chance to heal.”

“Were you wounded?”

“No, I wasn’t.” She pressed her cheek against his forehead.

“What of the others?”

“Collin is seeing to them. You need not worry, Legolas. Please rest.” Silivrén bent to lightly brush her lips against his.

He reached for her hand and held it close to his heart before his eyes drifted closed once again.

Silivrén waited until he looked to be sleeping comfortably before she stood up and left the tent. She allowed herself a few moments to shed the tears she had been holding back in Legolas’s presence. Seeing him injured and helpless left her with such a gut-wrenching feeling. But she knew he would be fine in only a matter of hours.

Her eyes shifted to the pile of burning Orc bodies a short distance away. Luckily the wind was blowing in the opposite direction and carried the stench of the foul creatures away from their camp. The sight of the wounded reminded Silivrén of a similar attack that occurred a little over five years ago. It was the first time she had ever laid eyes on an Orc. At the time she had hoped she’d never see one again. It was also the time she began to notice him and love him in a different way.

At Sixteen Years of Age

Orcs attacked their party while they traveled to the southern lands. The Rhûn soldiers fought valiantly around the perimeter of their campsite. In the midst of the chaos, Legolas pushed Silivrén to the ground behind him and she watched in fear as he notched his bow and released arrow after arrow, killing any Orc that dared approach. She knew he was concerned for her father, who was fighting beside Collin, so he occasionally sent arrows over her father’s shoulder, killing any Orcs attacking him.

When Legolas ran out of arrows, he drew his long knives and left Silivrén’s side to engage hand to hand with the Orcs. But he was never far away from where she remained curled up on the ground, her eyes darting around at the mayhem around her.

Soldiers fell at the hands of the Orcs, men she had known all of her life. The Orcs were hideous creatures, snarling and growling like wild beasts. They fell dead on the ground beside Silivrén, slaughtered by her fearless protector. In her attempt to move away from a corpse that had fallen right at her feet, she turned and ran, only to trip over something that sent her flying into a stack of saddles. She clamped her hands over her ears to prevent the disturbing sounds from reaching her. But she couldn’t close her eyes quick enough to avoid the sight of the dead soldiers nearby. The haunted look on their still faces was something she would never forget.

When the battle ended, Legolas quickly rushed over to Silivrén and dropped to his knees, laying his knives down. “Are you injured?” When she just stared at him and didn’t respond, he frowned and placed his hands on her face, slightly shaking her. “Silivrén!”

Her eyes suddenly filled with tears and at last she uttered a sound, a cry of complete despair. Legolas crushed her to his chest and she clung to his tunic as if her very life depended on it. His hand came around the back of her head and he held her face to his chest as she sobbed intensely.

“Silivrén!”

Silivrén hear her father’s voice, but she couldn’t find the will to release Legolas.

“Is she injured?” asked the king.

“No, my Lord,” replied Legolas. “She is merely stunned.”

“I give you my gratitude, Legolas, for the life of my daughter and for mine as well.”

“I require no gratitude,” the Elf humbly replied.

“Nonetheless, I give it. Let us make haste before we are attacked once again.”

Legolas began to release Silivrén, but she protested.

The king gave orders to have their company split up. Some would remain to tend to the wounded and return them to Rhûn, while the others would continue south. After he finished with his men, Rataman turned to Legolas who still held Silivrén in his arms. “Shall I take her?” he asked.

“I have her.” Legolas picked Silivrén up in his arms and carried her to his horse. He effortlessly mounted and kept her close to his chest as she continued to cling to his tunic. “Will you say something, Silivrén?” he whispered in her ear when they rode on. “Tell me you are well.”

Despite the addition of Orc blood upon his clothing, Silivrén inhaled his familiar scent of the forest, finding a wealth of comfort in it. She didn’t want to see anything around her, so she pressed her face against his chest. There was no safer place to be than with him.

Legolas was satisfied that she was fine when he heard her sigh heavily against him.

The king’s company arrived at their destination before nightfall and were provided with rooms at the home of the noble they were visiting.

Rataman kissed his daughter on the cheek and stood up from the bed she laid in. He gave Legolas a sincere glance and then reached up to squeeze the Elf’s shoulder before leaving the room.

Legolas moved to the side of the bed and picked up her hand. “I’m sorry you had to witness what you did today.”

When he started to release her hand, Silivrén tightened her grip. “Please don’t leave me alone in this room.”

He couldn’t ignore the pleading look in her eyes and soon unfolded his bedroll on the floor beside the bed she occupied.

During the night, Silivrén awoke in fear. Within the shadows of the dark room she felt as if the hideous faces of Orcs watched her. She sat up and looked down beside the bed, seeing Legolas’s familiar Elven glow. As she laid back again, a sudden pain in her chest nearly took her breath away.

The grunt that escaped Silivrén’s lips alerted Legolas and he was immediately up and at her side. “What is it, Erelei? Are you in pain?”

“Aye, but I didn’t feel it before.”

Legolas pushed aside the sheets and began to tug her nightshirt upward.

Silivrén quickly reached down to stop him. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to examine you.”

She felt her cheeks heat up. “I’m not in so much pain afterall.”

Legolas frowned. “Silivrén, I have seen you unclothed before.”

“Aye, when I was but a child you did.” The very idea of Legolas seeing her without a stitch of clothing was unthinkable.

“You are still a child.”

She raised her nose. “I am not a child. I’m a woman of sixteen years.”

Legolas smiled with a nod. “If you insist, then keep your nightshirt on. Will you at least show me where it hurts?”

Silivrén placed a hand on the left side of her torso. “Here.”

Legolas placed his hand there and then lightly pressed in different places until she nearly cried out. “Forgive me, Silivrén, but I’ll need to feel if you might have broken something.”

Silivrén grabbed a handful of the sheets and stuffed the cloth in her mouth to prevent any further cries. As he pressed harder, her eyes filled with tears and she groaned in pain. When he sighed, she pulled the sheet out of her mouth. “Is it bad?”

“I feel two broken ribs. Do you recall how you came to receive this injury?”

“It might be when I fell into the saddles.”

“I have an ointment to ease the pain. Will you remove your nightshirt if I turn around?”

She bit her lower lip and then nodded. While he turned around to retrieve the ointment from his pack, Silivrén eased out of her nightshirt, grunting in pain from the simple movement. She wrapped the sheets around her lower body and spent a great deal of time trying to figure out how to cover her upper half while still leaving exposed the area where he needed to rub the ointment. Finally she took the nightshirt and held it to her breasts, folding her arms over it. “You may turn around now.”

Legolas turned and sat down on the side of the bed. After pouring some of the contents of the vial onto his hands, he proceeded to gently massage it over the injured area.

Silivrén closed her eyes, feeling a strange fluttering in her belly that nearly distracted her from the pain she felt. When she opened them again she noticed Legolas leaning closer to inspect her side with a frown.

“Turn over,” he instructed.

Silivrén rolled over, exposing her bare back to him.

“You have quite a bruise here.” He gently pressed around the area just below her shoulder blade. Satisfied that nothing was broken, he applied more of the ointment there.

She closed her eyes once again, continuing to feel the flutterings in her belly. The feel of his hands gently massaging her back quickened her breath and a shiver passed through her. She immediately bit her lower lip to prevent a moan from escaping her throat.

When Legolas finished he raised the sheet to cover her. Then he leaned over to kiss the side of her face. “You will feel better in the morning.” He kissed her one more time before moving away.

Silivrén carefully rolled over on her back. “Legolas?” When he turned back to her, she scooted along the bed to make room. “Will you lay here with me?”

He hesitated a moment, thinking her request was truly inappropriate. But again, he simply couldn’t refuse her when she looked at him with those pleading eyes. “Of course.” He reclined above the sheets and rested his head against the headboard. She moved closer to him until she was resting her head on his shoulder. “If you’re cold, I can get another blanket.”

“No, your warmth is enough,” Silivrén said as she took his arm and wrapped it around herself. The desire to be held by him was strangely overwhelming and she found herself moving as close to him as she could get with the sheets still covering her. Silence stretched between them for awhile. “Legolas? Was there ever anyone special in your life?”

Legolas wondered why her thoughts suddenly dwelled on such a subject. “There were many special people in my life.”

“Were any of them women?” When he didn’t respond, she tilted her face upward to look at him.

He drew his brows together in thought, then turned to face her. “By that, I assume you’re trying to ask if I loved any.”

Oddly enough, the very thought of Legolas loving another woman sent a sudden wave of jealousy through Silivrén and she wanted desperately to know he had never loved before.

He looked deeply into her eyes for a moment before responding. “You forget that I’ve lived for over three thousand years. Tis a long time to go without love.”

Silivrén felt as if her heart had been struck by an arrow. Although he hadn’t admitted anything outright, his response was evidence enough. She didn’t want to know anymore.

Legolas saw the look of disappointment that crossed her face before she hid it in his shoulder. He kissed the top of her head, still uncertain why she had broached the subject of his passed loves. There truly hadn’t been many. His responsibilities to his realm and the many journeys he had made with Aragorn had left little time for romance in his life. He suspected Silivrén might secretly harbor amorous feelings toward him. If that were true, he wasn’t certain what he could possibly do to discourage her.

 

Chapter 7 – Run on the Inside​

The Present

They were now twelve days into their journey and at least halfway to their destination. But fours days had passed before they finally continued on after the Orc attack. Spending those days without moving made Legolas yearn for a better place…any place. The monotony of the open plains in every direction was enough to make anyone go mad, including himself. But he had foregone his own selfishness for the sake of the wounded Rhûn men. Legolas healed almost immediately from his injury and had been on his feet the very next day, scouting the area for any further possibilities of Orc attacks.

Once they were moving again, Legolas took them to the cliffs that lined the Anduin River. Their water supply was running low again after their extended rest period and there was a path further ahead that Legolas knew of. It led down to the water’s edge. Collin’s men could gather water in the barrels and cart them back up so the rest of the company wouldn’t have to make the trip. If they continued their pace, they would arrive at the path just after nightfall.

Seeing Silivrén riding her horse closer to the edge of the cliff, he nudged Alagos and approached to walk on her left.

Her look was pure bewilderment at the sight that confronted her. “I’ve heard the Pillars of the Kings were amazing, but to actually see them with my own eyes…tis overwhelming.”

On either side of the river were the enormous statues of Isildur and Anárion, their arms stretched out in front of them. Centuries ago they had been carved into the mountains by the Númenóreans. Legolas smiled at the memory of the first time he had seen the Argonath when he traveled with the fellowship. Had it been nearly a century already?

“What is this land called?” Silivrén asked.

“This is Emyn Muil. Beyond the trees the Anduin becomes the Nen Hithoel where the Rauros Falls feed the river that continues to the southern lands.”

“And the land on the other side there?” she asked as she pointed across the river gap.

“Rohan, the land of the horse lords. Its been many decades since I last visited the golden hall of Meduseld atop Edoras.”

“You knew their king?”

“I knew King Éomer quite well when he lived. But I only briefly knew his son Elfwine when he was a child. Much time has passed and I fear not even he lives any longer.” Nearly everyone he had known was either deceased or sailed to Valinor. Not wanting to dwell on sad thoughts, Legolas glanced over his shoulder at the rest of the company, then turned back to Silivrén with a smile. “I believe our horses seek to run. What do you think?”

Silivrén knew that smile. He meant to leave the others in the dust. She smiled back and bit her lower lip. “Teress and Collin will be furious.”

Legolas shrugged indifferently. “Let them stew. They can meet up with us when we reach the path that leads to the river.” It was almost as if Alagos already knew his master’s thoughts and the stallion began to excitedly prance.

Even Anorcelair sensed the change of her sire’s mood. Silivrén sank her heels into the mare’s sides and she shot forward as if launched from a bow. She glanced back as Legolas spun Alagos around and the horse bolted forward. They were beside them in an instant. When Silivrén glanced back again the company seemed in a state of mass confusion as they scrambled to get their horses to pursue. But the two wagons would be unable to keep up the pace.

The warm wind felt exhilarating on Silivrén’s face and blowing through her hair. For a moment she imagined she was soaring like a great eagle rising into the clouds. Beside her Legolas appeared just as overjoyed. They continued to race through the valley, side by side, the mingled sounds of their horses’ footfalls echoing, their breaths heaving in relief at the opportunity to race like the wind.

Silivrén looked down to watch the matched strides of their horses. Father and daughter. A recent memory came to her mind, only four years ago. The annual Triumph Race. Her father had run many of his horses in the event and never won it. On her fifteenth birthday, Legolas gifted Silivrén his stallion’s first foal. She gave the filly an Elven name, Anorcelair, its golden color shining as brilliantly as the sun itself. When first seeing the filly running beside her sire, Silivrén knew she would have speed and it was proven two years after that.

At Seventeen Years of Age

“Have you lost your senses?” yelled King Rataman. “For your information, I am too old to father anymore heirs. I will not have my only daughter needlessly risk her life for my own foolish notions.”

“Anorcelair won’t allow another rider, papa,” Silivrén explained. “I have ridden her throughout her training. I’m the best candidate to ride her in the race.”

Rataman turned to Legolas. “Did you put her up to this insane idea?”

“I had nothing to do with it,” Legolas defensively replied. “But I do agree Silivrén is the best rider.”

“No, Legolas,” argued the king. “You are and that’s why I insist you ride Anorcelair.”

Legolas rolled his eyes. “I’ve beaten far too many citizens of Rhûn at whatever games you put forth. I know they believe I use Elven magic to win and my reputation has become tainted enough. Besides, I’m too tall.”

Silivrén interjected, “Papa, you have wanted to win this race forever. With Anorcelair there is a definite chance that you will finally see a win.”

“Not at the cost of my child’s life.”

“I am no longer a child! I can make my own decisions!”

Rataman gave his daughter a stern look. “You will not ride in the race, Silivrén. That is my final decision.”

After her father stormed out of the dining hall, Silivrén turned to Legolas. “He’s being unfair.”

Legolas folded his arms across his chest and smiled rather deviously. “Since when have you ever obeyed your father, Erelei?”

She returned his smile and then rushed over to kiss him on the cheek. “Will you help me?”

“Of course.”

When the day of the race came, Silivrén paced in Anorcelair’s stall as the stable boy dressed the filly for the race. She was strangely nervous for the first time since endeavoring to fool her father into thinking she would not race. Her fear was more for Legolas. If the king knew Legolas had conspired with her, what would he do to her protector? Would Legolas be ousted from the city?

Long minutes passed and Legolas finally appeared. In his hand was a strange looking helm. “I will finish,” he told the stable boy.

When the stable boy left them alone, Silivrén stepped closer to Legolas to inspect the helm. It was polished silver with jagged blades jutting out the back. She wondered if it was used more as a weapon than protection for one’s head. “Where did you get this?”

“My father gave it to me when I first began patrolling our woodlands. It belonged to him and to my grandfather before that. It will aid in concealing your face from the spectators and especially your father.” He handed the helm to her.

She looked down at it for a long time before lifting her eyes to him again. “Perhaps this is a foolish venture.”

Legolas placed his hands on her face. “No, Silivrén, you want this. Don’t think about what your father will say or do when he discovers you were in the race.”

“But what will he do to you?”

“He will do nothing. Trust me, Erelei.” He caressed her cheeks with a smile and found himself lost in the depths of her blue eyes. As much as he wanted to protect her and keep her safe, he trusted her riding ability without a doubt. When he heard the sound of approaching footfalls, he quickly kissed her forehead and released her.

The stable boy entered. “They are asking for the competitors to enter the field.”

“We’re coming,” Legolas replied. He took the helm from her hands and gently placed it over her head. Then he smiled again. “Are you ready for battle?”

Silivrén smiled back. “I’m ready.”

“Good.” Legolas helped her up on Anorcelair’s back. Then he moved to the filly’s head and leaned his forehead against hers. “Beria he.”

Silivrén knew the Elvish words. He asked Anorcelair to protect her. The filly responded with a soft knicker. Then she obediently followed the Elf out of the stall.

The mass of spectators cheered and waved colored flags that represented their village. The Annual Triumph Race had been a tradition for the last twenty years in Rhûn and many from neighboring cities and villages came with their horses to compete or just to enjoy the day-long festivities hosted by King Rataman.

Legolas led Anorcelair out of the paddock area and they made their way to where the other horses were beginning to line up. The filly instantly began to prance in excitement. She knew she was about to race and anticipated the challenge.

Before Legolas released Anorcelair, he motioned to Silivrén to lean toward him. “Remember to run on the inside,” he told her.

Silivrén nodded and as Legolas released Anorcelair’s reins, she nudged the filly to step her up to the starting line with the others.

Everyone fell silent for a moment, waiting for the horn to sound the start of the race. When it came, Silivrén dug her heels into Anorcelair’s girth and the filly propelled herself forward. Silivrén only had a brief second to see Legolas jump up on the wall surrounding the track.

Suddenly another horse veered into her, slamming into Anorcelair. Her filly hopped sideways and before Silivrén had a chance to react, she found herself rolling on the ground, the helm falling off her head.

The crowd simultaneously gasped in surprise and then began murmuring loudly when they discovered the identity of the rider. She was their own princess.

As Silivrén slowly climbed to her feet she turned to see the other horses rounding the first turn.

Anorcelair trotted to her and knickered in apology. Silivrén quickly mounted again and spun the filly around to continue the race. When she glanced back, Legolas waved for her to fly.

The other horses were well ahead of her now. It looked as though there would be no chance for them to possibly catch up.

Silivrén felt the incredible surge of power beneath her as Anorcelair crossed to the rail and proceeded to gain ground at a speed she thought to be impossible.

Anorcelair came around the first bend of the track and the crowd jumped to their feet with shouts of surprise as they witnessed the diminishing distance between the seven track favorites and the newcomer owned by the king’s daughter.

Legolas watched from the wall, eyes wide with excitement, as his stallion’s progeny gained more and more ground approaching the far side of the track. The others were not more than twenty lengths ahead of them.

Silivrén felt light-headed as she glanced up to see where she was. They were on the far side of the track and she saw the other horses up ahead. It seemed impossible to believe. Anorcelair almost managed to catch up in less than a minute. She was snorting in fury and Silivrén knew the reason. Even during their practice runs, Anorcelair didn’t like to lose. Silivrén lowered her head alongside the filly’s neck, loosening the reins slightly to extend her even further.

They started around the far curve. By the time they were heading toward the finish line, there were less than ten lengths separating Anorcelair and the others.

Silivrén heard nothing but Anorcelair’s mighty breaths and the powerful footfalls as her hooves struck the dirt. From the corner of her eye, she saw two horses as they passed them. Then they passed three others. Only two more remained and they were directly ahead.

Legolas watched as the horses were heading toward the finish. Anorcelair called upon a last spurt of energy and surged past the final two horses, leaving them behind by four lengths before the filly crossed the finish. They did it. They won the race. He jumped off the wall and ran toward the center of the track. Just as they started to pass, Legolas quickly grabbed the side of the saddle and vaulted up behind Silivrén on Anorcelair’s back.

He helped Silivrén draw the energized filly to a stop. “Are you injured?” he asked Silivrén.

“No, I’m fine. But I’m not certain why I fell.”

“Anorcelair leaned away from the other horse. If she hadn’t, you would have both fallen amidst the others and been trampled. She protected you just as I asked her to.”

Silivrén leaned forward and wrapped her arms around the filly’s neck. “Hannon le, Anorcelair.” Then she turned her around to trot back to where the judges awaited. Her heart sank when she caught sight of her father beside them, a seriously angry look upon his face. (thank you)

Legolas leaned toward her from behind. “I will take the blame,” he said rather calmly.

“No, Legolas, he will toss you out of Rhûn by your ears.”

Anorcelair stopped in front of the judges and Legolas hopped off before helping Silivrén down.

Silivrén accepted the large golden goblet from the judges and sighed heavily before turning to face the wrath of her father. “I know what you’re going to say, papa.”

The king’s stern look could frighten an Orc. He moved closer and gave Legolas the same look, daring him to step in front of Silivrén as he usually did to protect her. Rataman glanced at the cup in his daughter’s hand and took it, inspecting it carefully. Then his face broke into a smile as he raised the cup in the air in triumph.

The crowd burst into cheers, which was quickly followed by a royal fanfare of trumpets.

King Rataman pulled Silivrén into his arms and embraced her.

When Silivrén glanced at Legolas, he was grinning in a rather conspiring manner. Then she pulled back to look at her father. “You knew?”

“Of course I did,” replied the king. “You have never regarded my authority, Silivrén. The least I could do was have Legolas make certain you were safe.”

“You are both very sneaky.”

Rataman patted her on the cheek. “Go wash up now. I have a huge victory feast planned for this evening.”

“And what if I had lost?”

“Then we would be having a non-victory feast,” he said with a laugh. Then he walked away to boast to his advisors.

Legolas handed Anorcelair’s reins to the stable boy. “Be sure to walk her around the paddock before giving her any water,” he instructed before the filly was led away. Then Legolas motioned Silivrén toward the cheering people. “They call to you, Erelei.”

Silivrén admired Legolas’s beaming face. If it were possible, he seemed to grow more and more beautiful with each passing day. She loved it when he was happy, but it only reminded her of the incredible affection she felt for him. Unfortunately he didn’t share her feelings. She walked toward the center of the dirt track. The cheers escalated and Silivrén acknowledged the crowd by smiling and raising her arms in victory.

Legolas watched from a distance. It was plain to see that the people adored their princess. And he couldn’t be more proud of her. They began to throw long-stemmed flowers onto the track. He smiled as she gathered as many as she could and then waved before running back to him.

“Look,” she said with a grin. “They gave me flowers.”

“We’ll have them put in vases in your chamber,” Legolas motioned to several servants standing near the wall and then pointed to the flowers piling on the track.

The servants quickly began gathering the flowers as he instructed.

With a hand on her back, Legolas led Silivrén away.

A long night awaited Silivrén. Legolas was certain a number of men would later be looking to dance with her during the festivities. It was something he dreaded and loathed to watch.

 

Chapter 8 – Wild Butterflies​

The Present

The Rhûn soldiers were in good spirits. Days ago they had survived an Orc raid with minimal injuries and there would be plenty of water to last the rest of the journey. And now they rested beside the heads of the giant statues created by the legendary Númenóreans. After a unanimous vote among the advisors, it was decided they would remain for another night, mainly to rest the horses before continuing on their long journey.

Sometime in the middle of the night, Silivrén crept out of her tent in annoyance, leaving Teress snoring rather loudly. She glanced around the campsite. Other snores came from the two other tents belonging to the advisors that traveled with her. Sleeping on bedrolls near the fire were the soldiers.

Silivrén spied two soldiers standing watch facing away from the cliff. She casually walked up to one of them, recognizing him as Toorin. “Good evening, Toorin.”

“Good evening, my lady.”

“Sleep eludes me on this night.”

Toorin snorted in response. “Tis a small wonder anyone can sleep with all this noise.”

Silivrén laughed, knowing he referred to the loud snores. “Would you happen to know where I can find Legolas? Perhaps one of his tales can lull me to sleep.”

“He went below to the river.” When she started to head in that direction, the soldier held a hand out to stop her. “I will accompany you.”

“That’s not necessary. He said himself the area here is safe. I will be fine.” Silivrén quickly walked passed the soldier before he could argue any further. She proceeded down the long path leading down to the riverbank. It wasn’t the first time she had been on the path throughout the last two days. Besides the moon was bright overhead and gave off enough light for her to see the way.

When Silivrén neared the end of the path, she came across a pile of familiar clothing lying on the ground. They belonged to Legolas. Her eyes darted around the area, searching for the Elf who didn’t seem to be in the water. Then she found him. He was lying atop a large boulder, staring up into the dark sky. His pale skin glowed under the moonlight, an Elven trait she wished she herself owned. But there was so much more of him to admire as he laid naked upon the boulder…so carefree and unashamed. Why should he feel ashamed, he was perfect in every way.

She remained frozen, drinking in the sight of him from a distance, a vision she would never grow tired of. When she had seen him completely bare for the first time only two years ago, she didn’t think she’d ever know anyone who could send butterflies tumbling so wildly in her stomach…just from the mere sight of him.
At Nineteen Years of Age

Teress was making Silivrén crazy with her fittings. She must have tried on more than three dozen gowns. The handmaiden insisted the princess was losing weight around the waist and gaining it in her chest and all her present gowns didn’t fit properly. But she was determined to fit the girl in a special gown for the upcoming festivities.

In two days, Silivrén would celebrate her nineteenth birthday and she dreaded the ensuing events. There would be plenty of dining and plenty of dancing. Every year her father invited people she had no desire to meet. But ever since she turned eighteen the previous year, the king made every excuse to have a ball. It was mainly in hopes that someone worthy would step forth to court her. Afterall she was a princess and heir to the Rhûn throne. The husband chosen for her would need to be of royal blood in order to rule with her when her father passed on. Silivrén had absolutely no desire to be courted by anyone. Except perhaps one certain Elf. But she knew he didn’t share what she felt for him. It was obvious he still thought of her as a child.

“Teress, I simply cannot try on one more dress,” Silivrén finally told her handmaiden.

“I think the blue one is the best. The color accentuates your eyes and the men will surely notice.”

Silivrén rolled her eyes and walked out of the room Teress used to mend clothing. Her thoughts drifted back to Legolas. She hadn’t seen him since the afternoon meal when she told him she was going to see Teress about some gowns. He quickly made a dozen excuses not to accompany her. Silivrén didn’t blame him. He and her handmaiden never grew to like each other. In fact they shared a mutually amicable loathing for one another, which amused Silivrén to no end.

Figuring Legolas had gone to spar with Collin, something he often did when he was bored, Silivrén headed for her chambers to nap before dinner.

Saleena appeared down the corridor and rushed toward her. “Silivrén, you’ll never guess who plans to attend your birthday festival.”

“Who?”

“Guess.”

Silivrén sighed and decided to humor her long-time friend. “Mandos, the Doomsman.”

Saleena frowned as she followed Silivrén up the staircase. “One of the Valar? No, you silly girl, you’re not that important.”

Silivrén dropped her jaw. “How rude!”

“Guess again.”

“Please, Saleena, I am in no mood for your games. Why don’t you just tell me?”

“The king of Gondor himself.”

“And what interest would my festival be to the king of Gondor?”

“Perhaps he comes to court you.”

“Him and fifteen hundred other men.” It sounded conceited, but she knew it to be closer to the truth than anyone imagined.

“Aye, but do any of them rule the largest country of men in all of Arda?”

Silivrén shrugged indifferently. It was impressive enough, but she simply couldn’t find interest in anyone. Not while Legolas was around.

“Do you want to know what else I heard? Not only does he have Elven blood, but he also has the blood of the Dúnedain. So he is guaranteed long life.”

The fact the king of Gondor had Elven blood was enough to create a tiny spark of interest, but it still didn’t suit Silivrén. “He must be about fifty or sixty. That’s as old as my father. Why should I care about an old man?”

Saleena snickered as she continued to follow Silivrén down the short corridor toward her rooms.

“What’s so funny?” asked Silivrén.

“Fifty or sixty, even two hundred is young compared to your Elf. You told me yourself he was over three thousand years old. That, my dear friend, is extremely old.”

“Tis true, but Legolas is of pure Elven blood,” Silivrén boasted with pride. “Not a drop of anything else.” She reached the door to her chamber. “Now go away, I want to rest before dinner.”

“Fine, I will find Lorin and tell her the news. Perhaps the king of Gondor will find one of us more interesting than you.” Saleena rushed off.

Silivrén made a face in her friend’s direction before entering her bedroom and closing the door behind her. She was about to walk to the bed but paused as she heard sounds coming from the bath chamber. When she went to investigate, she discovered Legolas lying in the tub, steam drifting above the water.

“What are you doing in here, Silivrén?” he asked without opening his eyes.

“I was looking for you. I didn’t know you would be in here.”

Legolas opened his eyes and raised his head. “Where else should I be?”

Silivrén shrugged and stepped further in the room. “I thought perhaps you had gone to practice swordplay with Collin or one of the other guards.”

As she neared the tub, Legolas straightened slightly and reached down into the water to cover his private areas. “I would prefer you remain by the door, please.”

She ignored his protest and knelt on the floor at the foot of the tub where she picked up the damp cloth resting on the edge. “I’m bored. Let’s go for a ride.”

“We will as soon as you allow me to finish my bath.”

“So finish.” She tossed the cloth at him.

Legolas’s hand instinctly shot up to catch it. He gave her a scolding look. Figuring she sought his company for a reason, he knew he wouldn’t be able to convince her to leave until she said what she had come to say. “How went your gown fittings with Duress?”

“Her name is Teress,” she needlessly reminded him.

“I have killed Uruk-hai with better dispositions than her.”

Silivrén laughed at his statement and reached into the tub to splash water at him.

He splashed her back, making her duck away. “Say what you’ve come to say, Silivrén.”

“Me? I have nothing to say. I merely wanted to know where you were.”

“Well, you found me. Si ed anle a dâf meth nin.” (now out with you and let me finish)

“As you wish. I will lay out clean leggings and a tunic for you.”

“No need.” He pointed to a chair near the wall where his clean clothing laid.

“Fine. I will take a nap then.” Silivrén rose from the floor and casually walked out of the bath chamber, partially closing the door behind her. But she didn’t walk to the bed. Instead she snuck behind the door and peered through the crack.

Legolas stood up in the tub and squeezed the water from his hair.

Silivrén’s jaw dropped upon seeing him completely bare. It wasn’t the first time she had ever seen a nude male. She and her friends accidentally spied a soldier or two bathing in the creek. But Legolas was so different from them, perhaps because he had no hair anywhere or around his…oh Valar, he was perfect, she thought. He stepped out of the tub and began to dry himself. The sight of him in all of his glory stirred flutterings in her belly like butterflies dancing wildly and she wanted so badly to run her hands over his chest…or touch him anywhere. The thought made her sigh and she quickly bit her lower lip to silence herself.

Suddenly his eyes shot up toward the door and Silivrén quickly tiptoed to her bed and reclined on it. When she heard Legolas coming out of the bath chamber, she closed her eyes and pretended to be asleep. He was silent as a cat, but she sensed him stepping in front of where she laid.

His damp hair brushed across her arm as he leaned toward her ear. “You forget that I can hear a hair drop to the floor, Erelei.”

She opened her eyes and sadly discovered he had donned his leggings. “You cannot fault me for being curious, Legolas.” She watched him slip into his tunic, thrilling at the sight of his bare chest. It was rare lately that she ever saw him without a shirt.

Legolas began clasping the tunic and reproachfully looked down at her. “Well, I certainly hope you had a good long look because you won’t ever see it again.”

Silivrén sat up. “You’re angry.”

He shook his head. “No, I’m not angry. But I will give you this warning. Any man who finds himself in such a predicament would take advantage of the situation. More so if he feels she is interested.”

“So what you’re saying is because you are an Elf, you didn’t take advantage?”

Legolas cupped her chin. “What I’m saying is I didn’t take advantage not because I’m an Elf, but because I care too much about you. I would never waste such a critical moment in your life for a mere moment of pleasure for myself.” He released her chin. “Take your nap. I’ll be in the library.”

After Legolas left the room, Silivrén wrapped her arms around herself and released a heavy sigh. What could she possibly do to make him understand that she wanted to be with him? She would never want anyone else.

Her thoughts drifted to the words of her friend Saleena. “Men are easily aroused, Silivrén. Show them a bit of skin and they come running. But give them the full view and they will beg to make love to you.”

Silivrén knew Legolas wasn’t a man. He was an Elf. She wasn’t certain whether he could be aroused as a man. But she aimed to find out sooner or later.

 

Chapter 9 – Too Far Gone
​

The Present

Legolas knew Silivrén was standing nearby. He had heard her coming down the path and her scent immediately reached him.

“You should not be here,” he said in his serene voice.

“I want to breathe you in while I still can.”

“You insist on putting me in a predicament I dare not challenge.” He wanted to be angry, but he felt emotionally drained.

“You promised you would never deny me. Do you wish to take it back?”

“Tis a promise I never should have made, do you not see?”

“No, I will never see. You tell me you love me, yet you take me into the arms of another.”

Legolas closed his eyes as tears began to fill them. To be reminded of the love he had for her was agonizing. Every day that passed, a piece of his heart seemed to rip away. He blamed himself…he never should have let it happen...never should have started anything with her. His own ignorance led him to believe he could detach himself from her when it suited him. Oh how wrong he had been. Rather than separating himself, he was unable to contain his emotions…until he found himself bound to her with his whole heart. There was no chance now his shattering heart would ever recover from this, for no female had ever held it so powerfully. He had no choice but to sail West once he delivered Silivrén to her betrothed.

But until that time…he could be selfish if he wanted. He had nothing left to lose.

Legolas slid off the boulder and walked toward Silivrén. He saw her eyes drift over him in the bashful manner he was accustomed to. But he could sense the incredible need that poured out of her. Driven by his own hunger, Legolas took her into his arms and possessively claimed her mouth.

Silivrén was surprised at his sudden aggressiveness. But she responded without hesitation by parting her lips and feeling his tongue immediately slip into her mouth. She groaned in relief at the opportunity to fully taste him again. Her hands automatically moved to his face and then to his ears.

Legolas carefully guided her down on the grass. She reached down with one hand to pull at her skirts, giving him freedom between her legs. The feel of his hands on her flesh was enough to undo her and she had to stifle a pleasured cry.

Legolas didn’t know what he wanted first, to taste her desire or let her taste his. As she stroked his right ear with one hand and gripped his behind with the other, he knew he wouldn’t be able to prolong the need to fill her. He slowly sank himself inside and covered her mouth with his to prevent the cry he knew would follow.

Silivrén regained control of her breathing and arched into his rampant thrusts. Normally their coupling was slow and gentle. But their desperation for each other seemed to cloud their judgments. She found herself digging her nails into the flesh of his behind, urging him at a pace she wasn’t used to. In a matter of seconds the familiar wave of unbridled pleasure consumed her and she sank her teeth into his shoulder to keep from screaming out her release.

The moment Legolas felt her tight inner muscles squeezing and milking his elfhood, he found his own release and without thinking he buried himself deeply to plant his seed.

Moments passed in silence as they slowly regained their composure. But Legolas didn’t want to release her. When she tilted her face up to him, he kissed her slowly this time, face pressed against hers. “I can’t ever say no to you, Erelei.”

As he possessively folded his arms around her, holding her close, Silivrén caressed his bare chest and closed her eyes. She absently traced the still fresh scar on his shoulder and thought there was no other place she wanted to be than in his arms.

Reality flooded Legolas’s conscience. He cursed himself for his weaknesses…too weak to admit his love for her when he should have and too weak now to walk away. But most of all, he cursed the day the king of Gondor stepped foot on Rhûn soil.

At Nineteen Years of Age

Legolas could barely contain himself when Eldarion walked into the hall with a small contingent of Gondorian guards. Twelve years passed since last he had set eyes on the king of Gondor. He looked so much like Aragorn, Legolas almost believed the ranger himself was standing before him.

King Rataman stood up from his seat at the far end of the hall and greeted King Eldarion with a firm clasp of his shoulder. “I am pleased to finally meet you.”

“As am I,” replied Eldarion before his eyes curiously shifted to the Elf standing beside the king’s throne.

Rataman gestured toward Silivrén. “My daughter, Silivrén.” Then he motioned a hand toward Legolas. “Her guardian, Legolas.”

Legolas tossed protocol aside and stepped down to greet Eldarion with a brotherly embrace. “Tis good to see you again.”

Eldarion grinned from ear to ear. “What in all of Arda are you doing here?” he whispered so no one else could hear.

“Later.” Legolas turned to the Rhûn king. “Allow me to see him to the guest quarters.”

“Granted.”

Legolas led Eldarion and the others away.

Silivrén watched their departure with a curious smile. She had no idea Legolas knew the current king of Gondor. He mentioned his friendship with King Elessar and the Elven queen named Arwen, but he never mentioned their son. She realized there were still so many things she didn’t know about Legolas.

Eldarion drank an ale while listening to Legolas recount the last nine years in Rhûn. “Sounds like a rather dull task, watching over the king’s daughter.”

Legolas smiled. “I disagree wholeheartedly. Watching over Silivrén has been anything but dull.”

“It’s been said she’s a rare beauty in these lands. Seeing her up close, I have to admit, she does rival all that I’ve heard about her.”

Hearing Eldarion praise Silivrén’s looks suddenly made Legolas feel uncomfortable. He reached for the pitcher of ale and filled his own mug. “How was the going from Gondor?” He wanted to alter the direction of the conversation away from Silivrén.

“A rough twenty-five days, my friend. I dread the return trip, but I intend to go in a westerly direction north of the Rhûn Sea rather than brave the dry sands in the southern route again.”

“A sound plan.”

Eldarion studied the Elf’s face. “You still haven’t told me what brought you here, Legolas or why you’ve chosen to serve this king.”

Legolas leaned back in his chair and shrugged. “The Lady of the Stars visited me in a dream and told me my fate lay in a land to the east.” He left out one important fact that he wasn’t quite prepared to reveal to anyone just yet. There were still unanswered questions he needed to discern before he would ever speak of it.

“Does Varda often visit you in your dreams?” Eldarion asked with a smile.

“Once or twice.”

“I can’t say I’ve ever been visited by the Valar in my dreams. It would be quite an honor indeed.”

“You don’t believe me,” Legolas said in good humor.

“Well, you can’t blame me. It does sound farfetched. But then again, Elves have been known to frolic with the Valar on many occasions.”

Legolas chuckled.

“I’ve known you all of my life. That’s what, sixty-three years? You don’t bow to anyone, Legolas, least of all a king whose ancestors enslaved our people for nearly fifty years.”

“I hold no grudge against this king. He isn’t responsible for what his ancestors did just as much as you are for yours.”

“Tis true, but our people never pledged allegiance to Sauron.”

Legolas frowned. “You think my coming here means I allege myself with the dark lord?”

“Of course not. I’m just curious as to why you chose this path.”

“There is no one left to tie me to Middle-Earth. I can’t tell you how hard I tried to bring myself to sail with my kin. How can one leave these shores without the desire to go?”

“My mother often told me you were happier living among humans than Elves.”

“Humans have been an endless fascination to me. Arwen knew me well.” He took a sip of his ale. “So why have you come this way?”

“You recall the promise I made to my father before he passed. I would do my best to unite the lands of men. Regardless of what they might have done in the past.”

“I do recall him asking for your promise.”

“Tell me about the Rhûn king. What is he like?”

“He’s a reasonable man. I’ve witnessed both his good side and his bad. You know I don’t trust easily, but I would have him at my back in battle. Or any of his soldiers for that matter.”

Eldarion gulped the contents of his mug and slapped the tabletop. “We need to go off on an adventure, Legolas. What say you to a trip north and I mean way north?”

Legolas gave him a crooked smile. “I will take you up on your offer, but not just yet.”

“When then?”

“When I no longer hold the responsibility as Silivrén’s guardian.”

“And when does that responsibility end?”

“When she is wed. I won’t leave her side until then.”

“Then we need to find the girl a husband as quickly as possible.” Eldarion raised his mug.

Legolas felt a dull pain in his stomach at the thought of Silivrén with a man...any man. He glanced up to find his friend waiting with a raised mug. Legolas tapped his mug against Eldarion’s, reluctantly toasting to Silivrén finding a husband. “Right.”

Legolas looked at himself in the mirror, smoothing out the front of the tunic Silivrén gave him. He wondered where she found someone so skilled to make it. The work truly seemed to be made by Elves.

“Well?” asked Silivrén, who stood behind him.

He turned around to face her. “How does it look?”

Silivrén allowed her eyes to take in all of him and her lips curled into a smile. “Stunning.”

He rolled his eyes and shook his head. When she walked to the bed and haphazardly reclined on it, he frowned. “You should dress, Erelei. Your guests await.”

She let her wavy ash blonde hair dangle off the edge of the bed, the ends reaching the floor. “I don’t feel like attending the festivities.”

Legolas walked over and sat beside where she laid on the bed. “Your attendance is not optional. The festivities are in your honor. You celebrate your nineteenth birthday.”

“I suppose…if I must.” But she didn’t move.

“I have yet to give you your gift. Would you like it now or after the festivities?”

“There is only one gift I would want from you, Legolas.”

“And what is that?”

She smiled wickedly. “A kiss.”

“A kiss?” he mimicked with raised eyebrows.

“And I don’t mean on my forehead or on the back of my hand or on my cheek.”

Legolas briefly battled his wits. Although she was old enough to experience intimacy, he truly didn’t want to initiate something he wouldn’t be able to finish. But surely one kiss couldn’t possibly do any harm. “Very well, I will give you your kiss.” He bent down to her face and with a small smile he pressed a soft, lingering kiss to her lips. When he pulled away, he saw the color instantly rise to her cheeks.

Silivrén quickly rolled away from him. “I should get dressed.”

He watched her move quickly behind her dressing screen. There was a sudden change in her. He clearly sensed it. And something else…something within himself. An emotion he thought he had under control. But such was not the case. It came pouring out of his heart like a flood erupting through a dam…all this brought upon by a single, innocent kiss. Or had he known these feelings all along and wasn’t able to interpret them until now?

When Legolas glanced toward the dressing screen, where behind it Silivrén had removed her casual tunic and was slipping into her gown, he noticed her eyes darting in his direction every few seconds. He knew she had harbored a special affection for him for many years now, but he never thought it would ever amount to anything.

Silivrén finally stepped out from behind the screen wearing her blue gown and approached him. She turned around and as he often did when Teress wasn’t present, he fastened the back of it. Oddly though, it seemed far more intimate than on any other occasion. She turned to him again and searched his eyes. “Do I look presentable?”

“You look beautiful, Erelei.” Legolas placed his hands on her face and kissed each of her cheeks, ending with her forehead. When she tipped her face upward, he was inches from her lips.

“Hannon le,” she whispered. (thank you)

Unaware of his own actions, Legolas slowly brushed his thumb across her lower lip. An overwhelming desire to kiss her again came over him. But he hesitated a brief moment to see if she might object to it. When all he felt was her warm breath against his chin, he slowly closed the gap between them, until his lips lightly pressed against hers in another soft kiss. Their lips remained touching, holding the contact a bit longer.

Legolas parted his lips and grazed over her lower lip with the tip of his tongue. He was relieved when she opened her mouth and allowed him to dip his tongue inside. She raised her tongue to meet his. As their tongues slowly caressed, he relished in the taste of her, so clean and unspoiled. And their lips seemed to fit so perfectly together.

When a soft moan escaped her throat, Legolas knew he needed to stop. It had already gone far enough. He slowly drew away from her lips and moved to the side of her face, resting his forehead against hers. “Forgive me, I meant not for it to go this far.”

Silivrén responded by sliding her arms around his neck in an embrace. But he quickly realized it was more than that when she brushed her fingertips along the edge of his left ear.

He immediately seized her wrist, pulling her hand away from his ear. “Don’t do that.” He quickly released it when he realized how roughly he had grabbed her.

She abruptly pulled away from him and glared at him in confusion. “Then explain why you kissed me again,” she said in anger.

Legolas was surprised at her sudden anger. “Silivrén…” He couldn’t explain to her what he felt. He couldn’t even relate his feelings to himself. He wasn’t sure whether he was drawn to her because he suddenly seemed to realize she was a grown woman or if his feelings went beyond anything physical. “I…I don’t know why. Please don’t be angry with me.”

She walked to her wardrobe to retrieve a pair of slippers. “Let us go before papa sends a legion of guards looking for me.”

Legolas remained rooted as Silivrén swung the door open and walked out. He didn’t understand her anger or who it was directed at. Most of all he didn’t understand the feelings spilling out of his heart. It was true, he loved Silivrén…but how was it possible that he could suddenly desire her as a woman. He had known her since she was ten years old and had watched her grow, comforted her in times of sorrow, laughed with her in moments of joy, fought tooth and nail to protect her.

Perhaps he had known it all along. She belonged to him…

 

Chapter 10 - What Promises​

The Present

When the sun began to lighten the sky in the east, Legolas tilted his face to look down at Silivrén sleeping soundly in his arms. After they made love the night before, she had removed her gown and laid with him beneath his cloak. Throughout the night though, he kept a careful ear out for any sounds of approaching soldiers or Silivrén’s handmaiden.

It was best to wake her so she wouldn’t be missed. “Silivrén,” he whispered against her cheek. When she didn’t respond, he grazed a kiss to her lips and received an immediate reaction from her.

Silivrén kissed him back with as much passion as she had felt during the night. The feel of his bare flesh against hers was enough to drive her insane. She squirmed to position him between her legs.

Legolas sensed the intensity of her need as she ground herself against his own growing arousal. He didn’t have the power to draw away. “You must return to your tent before Teress wakes up.”

Silivrén pressed herself harder against him, unwilling to leave his side. “How long before we arrive?”

“Another week perhaps.”

She lazily brushed kisses around his face. “Please tell me we will share more moments like this.”

“I make no promises, Erelei.” His words left an emptiness in his own heart. He wanted to share moments like this with her for the rest of her days.

“Let’s go in the water,” she quickly said, not wanting to spoil his mood.

Legolas pulled himself off of her and rose to his feet. When he gave her a hand up, she immediately ran toward the water. He followed her in and for the next few minutes they frolicked in the deeper part of the river before coupling once again.

At Nineteen Years of Age

The food and wine that abounded the tables kept the guests jubilant. There was much laughter and delighted conversations among everyone.

It suited Silivrén just fine. She cared not to have any attention at the moment anyway. Her thoughts were too jumbled in her mind. How could she have been so foolish to think Legolas would share her wayward amorous feelings? She thought he kissed her that second time because he felt something. But it was all just a silly whim he played into, merely for her benefit. He never denied her anything…whatever she wanted, he gave her…within reason. Until she had touched his ear. What was it about his ears that he didn’t like anyone touching them?

Silivrén lifted her eyes to where Legolas sat across the table, talking candidly with the king of Gondor. He wasn’t eating anything the servants put on his plate. But that wasn’t unusual. He had a strange appetite she still couldn’t figure out to this day. Often times he would only eat fruits and vegetables and other times just bread. She never saw him eat meat and wondered if all Elves ate as he did. Once when she was younger she asked him what he liked to eat. He reached into the air as if capturing something and then stuffed it into his mouth. Thinking he had eaten a flying insect, she stared in disgust until he laughed and told her he had only pretended.

When Legolas turned to pick up his wine goblet, he caught her watching him. He held her gaze as he raised the goblet to his lips. Her heart started beating faster and she felt an ache in her belly. She knew what it was. Saleena explained it. Being a few years older than Silivrén, her friend had already been with a man and shared all of her experiences. What Silivrén felt was a rampant desire to be intimate with the one she loved with all her heart. She quickly lowered her gaze as heat rose to her cheeks at the thought of experiencing intimate moments with Legolas as Saleena had described to her.

Her gaze drifted to Eldarion. He and Legolas appeared to be close. They reminisced and laughed. She caught bits and pieces of their conversation, which centered on the happenings in Gondor and often times they spoke of Aragorn and Arwen. The man appeared to be in his late twenties, but she knew he was much older. She searched his face for any signs of his Elven heritage and found none. He had facial hair, like most men did, but at least he kept it neatly trimmed. His hair was also a bit longer than normal, again neatly kept.

She thought she might find interest in someone like Eldarion. But the moment her eyes shifted to Legolas, all others were forgotten…her heart belonged to the Elf.

With the festivities well under way, Legolas kept close watch on those engaging Silivrén in conversation. She danced with many that night. For no good reason he detested seeing her in the arms of another. Any one of them might ask for her hand and he should have been happy for her. But instead he prayed to the Valar that King Rataman would deem none to be worthy of his daughter’s love.

Then he noticed Eldarion approaching her and his ears dropped every sound around him except their voices.

“Would the princess graciously accept my offer to dance?” Eldarion asked her.

Legolas could feel her apprehension as she stared at his offered hand. His heart skipped a beat when she slowly gave Eldarion her hand and a timid smile.

The sounds around him grew in intensity and he could no longer hear what they were saying to one another as they began to dance among other couples. In a moment of panic Legolas squeezed his way through the mass of people to edge closer, but he still couldn’t hear the words Eldarion whispered in Silivrén’s ear. With mixed emotions Legolas watched the two of them together. Her smile became less timid, his more inviting.

Legolas narrowed his brows, his heart suddenly feeling in agony. He felt an overwhelming desire to walk up and tear Silivrén from Eldarion’s arms. But such an act would draw unwelcome attention to himself. Perhaps if Eldarion would act less of a gentleman, then Legolas would have grounds to pull them apart. Silivrén’s soft laughter reached his ears and he felt another painful tug to his heart. Her sweet laugh…it belonged to him…no one should have the privilege of hearing it except him.

She belonged to him…

A hand on his shoulder caused Legolas to whirl around in anger…only to confront Collin who nearly received a blow to the face.

The captain of the guard raised his hands in defense. “Woo, I didn’t mean to startle you. Sorry.”

Legolas quickly regained his composure and blinked several times as he realized he had completely blocked out everything around him, all but his own thoughts and the sight of his beloved Silivrén dancing with the son of his greatest friend. “No, Collin, tis my fault. I was momentarily distracted.”

“The king wishes to speak to you.”

Legolas gave Collin a nod. “Thank you.” With a final glance toward Silivrén, Legolas followed Collin through the crowd of guests.

Much later into the evening while the musicians continued to entertain everyone, Silivrén stood with her back against a pillar. A hand touched hers and pulled her slightly away. She gasped in surprise, only to find it was Legolas.

“Are you still angry with me, Erelei?” his whispered voice asked into her ear from behind.

“I’m not.”

“I know when you’re being untruthful.”

She turned her face toward his. “You didn’t dance with me tonight.”

Legolas leaned against the pillar and glanced around the room, feigning interest in the musicians. “You seemed content dancing with others. I don’t want to ruin your chances if one should decide to court you.”

“You know I have no interest in any of them.”

He gave her a serious look. “As much as that pleases me to hear, there will come a time you will suddenly find interest.”

Silivrén shook her head. “There are things I wish to experience…things Saleena has told me about.”

Legolas glanced around the room again. Everyone seemed preoccupied with the musicians and paid him and Silivrén no attention. “I know all about your discussions and although Saleena should never have shared her intimate moments with you, I understand your curiosity.” His eyes returned to hers. “What you wish to experience shouldn’t be shared with any stranger that comes along.”

“You’re no stranger to me.”

“I am also your guardian. Your father would greatly disapprove a union between you and I. It can never be.”

Silivrén looked away and fought to control the tears that burned her eyes.

Legolas leaned toward her ear once again. “What did he promise you?”

“Who?”

“Eldarion.”

“He made no promises.” Her vision was blurred by her tears as she looked up at him. “He only spoke of you.”

Legolas couldn’t bear to see Silivrén cry and wanted to take her in his arms to dry her eyes. He cringed when she pulled her hand away from his and disappeared around the pillar. He had hurt her again, he knew it. But how could he possibly give her what she asked for? She wanted intimacy with him, something he couldn’t give so freely without losing his heart.

He was about to follow her when Eldarion approached him.

“There you are, Legolas. You’re like a ghost among us.”

Legolas composed himself and gave his friend a semblance of a smile. “I hope you’re enjoying the evening.”

“Immensely.”

“The food was good?”

Eldarion patted his stomach. “Extremely.”

“The entertainment is good as well?”

“I danced with the princess.”

“I noticed.” He hadn’t meant to sound so abrupt.

Eldarion gave the Elf a curious look. “Is something bothering you?”

“No, not a thing.” He attempted another smile.

“Perhaps you can give me some advice. Do you think Silivrén would fare well in Gondor?”

Legolas involuntarily clenched his fists hanging at his sides. “She…” He paused briefly to compose himself once again. “She might consider it an adventure.”

Eldarion shrugged. “Hm, it was just a thought.”

The Elf nodded, pretending to appear indifferent, when in fact his insides felt as if they were being carved to pieces.

“I don’t know why I’m thinking such things. I honestly don’t want to be tied down so soon in my life.” He gave the Elf a smile. “How could I possibly go on any adventures if I had a wife at home bearing my children?”

Legolas nodded again.

“I think I’ll retire early.” Eldarion gave the Elf’s arm a squeeze. “It’s been a long day.”

Legolas watched him walk away. Then he bounced the back of his head against the pillar and closed his eyes, relief washing over him. For a moment he thought the son of Aragorn was going to ask for Silivrén’s hand.

After a moment Legolas pushed away from the pillar and went in search of Silivrén. He imagined in her anger she would seek the company of her friends. He didn’t want her to be angry with him, but he didn’t know what he could say or do to ease her frustration.

 

Warning – This chapter contains explicit sexual content.

Chapter 11 – Too Much Wine​

The Present

Legolas avoided the marshes at Nindalf along the eastern side of the Anduin as they traveled south. The wagons would never make it through the sludgy ground. The easier route would have been to go directly east to Udun, which took them close to the Black Gates and the likeliness of more Orc attacks. He wanted to avoid them as well, so he kept the company moving through fairly rough terrain in Noman-Lands far west of the Black Gates.

At night they camped at the foot of a small hill.

Cheerful laughter could be heard around the large fire in the center of the campsite, some of it instigated by the strong wine being passed around.

Legolas remained standing atop a rock cropping, bow in hand, eyes scanning the surrounding darkness and often drifting to the object of everyone’s attention.

As the wine bottles made their way around the group, Silivrén drank along with the others. They goaded her with jibes about her lack of control with the strong spirit, which only made her drink more in order to prove them wrong. Just as she took a swig from the bottle, one of the men cracked a joke and she choked on the contents, nearly spitting it in her attempt to laugh.

Legolas tried to contain his smile as she made a complete fool of herself. She wouldn’t remember a thing in the morning and then she’d horrifically wonder if she had done something embarrassing in front of the others.

He recalled the night of her nineteenth birthday, during the festivities, when she had been drinking with her friends. So much had happened on that day. It was when he discovered the feelings he thought permanently locked away had suddenly surfaced. Although he had acted upon those initial feelings in a truly brash manner, never once did he regret what happened...even though the thought of forever being separated from Silivrén was like a knife in the gut.
At Nineteen Years of Age

Legolas watched from his crouched position on the rooftop as Silivrén became more and more intoxicated with her friends in the garden. He worried the king would come looking for her only to find her incoherent from the wine she drank. Although she was no longer a child, Silivrén’s father still had a strong influence over her. Legolas contemplated breaking up their little circle as their laughter carried toward the open windows of the hall where the king and the guests were continuing to enjoy the festivities.

But their discussion gave him pause.

“I think Eldarion fancies you, Silivrén,” said Lorin.

Silivrén sighed in an exaggerated manner. “I know and I don’t care. If he pursues me I’ll only refuse him.”

“What are you waiting for?”

“I know what she waits for,” interjected Saleena with a wicked grin. “She waits for her Elf to deflower her.”

Legolas curiously waited to see what Silivrén’s reaction would be.

Silivrén rolled her eyes. “I might as well wait forever then.”

“I have yet to see him with a woman,” Saleena pondered. “Perhaps he prefers men.”

The three of them burst into laughter.

“So if he hasn’t had a woman all this time,” continued Saleena, “what do you suppose he does to ease himself?” She made an obscene gesture with her hand as if stroking an invisible phallus between her legs.

This forced Silivrén and Lorin to burst out laughing again.

Legolas frowned and shook his head in annoyance. When they were younger he didn’t mind the innocent things they said about him. But now they were all older and he felt uncomfortable over the manner in which they discussed intimate things about him.

“Do you think I’m being unreasonable?” Silivrén asked Saleena. “Should I let the king of Gondor pursue me?”

“I think you should find him right this moment and let him have his way with you,” Lorin replied.

“You’re absolutely right,” Silivrén said with a nod of her head. “I think I will.”

Saleena smiled. “And don’t forget to do what all men truly crave. Wrap your lips around his thick member and…”

Legolas had heard enough. He stood up and jumped down from the rooftop, forcing startled cries from the three women as he landed beside them. “Come, Silivrén, you’ve had enough to drink for one evening.”

When he reached for the bottle in her hand, she yanked it back. “No! You can’t tell me what to do.” She stood up and swayed unsteadily on her feet. “I will retire to my rooms, but the bottle comes with me.”

He shrugged. “As you wish.”

Silivrén took two steps before she stumbled, allowing Legolas to catch her by the arm. She looked over her shoulder to her snickering friends as he led her away. “If you happen to see Eldarion, tell him I will seek him out and give him more pleasure than he has ever known in…” She didn’t finish her sentence as Legolas reached an arm around to cover her mouth with his hand.

By the time they reached the palace entrance, Silivrén was singing in a rather off key manner. The guards on either side of the door stood straighter when they saw who approached. Legolas motioned for them to be at ease.

Silivrén held her bottle out to one of the guards. “Here you are, my good man. Enjoy.” When the guard refused to take it, she tossed the bottle over her shoulder and it shattered on the stone walkway. She giggled hysterically. “Oops.”

Upon entering the palace, Legolas motioned to a servant arranging flowers in a vase. “See to the broken bottle outside the door, please.”

As Silivrén stumbled on her way up the stairway, nearly falling twice, Legolas picked her up and carried her.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her face against the side of it with a sigh. “Why do you always smell so good?”

Legolas ignored her question and continued up the stairs to the level containing her rooms. He thought about fetching Teress to help put Silivrén to bed, but the handmaiden would no doubt relay Silivrén’s condition to the king. He didn’t want Silivrén to get into trouble for her intoxicated state. She would be in enough trouble for leaving the festivities and her guests.

When he reached her bed chamber, he carried her inside and nudged the door closed with his foot. He walked to the bed and before he had a chance to put her down, she playfully nipped at the side of his neck. It sent an involuntary jolt through him and it took a great deal of strength to control the wayward lust beginning to creep into his system. “Go to bed,” he scolded.

“Legolas, I need help,” she said as she attempted to stand up on her knees.

Legolas knew she was helpless in her condition. He bent to first remove her slippers, then he began undoing the back of her elaborately decorated gown. She toppled face down and laughed at her own clumsiness. But Legolas wasn’t laughing. He proceeded to pull off her gown, unprepared to discover she didn’t have a stitch of clothing beneath it.

As he tossed the gown on a chair, Silivrén rolled over on her back, showing no trepidation over her lack of clothing. In fact, to his dismay, she parted her legs to reveal herself completely and his traitorous eyes could do nothing but drink in the sight she offered him. There had been many times he had seen her unclothed, but she had been a child. She was a grown woman now and the temptation was far too great.

“Where is my goodnight kiss?” she pouted with her arms stretched out to him..

Legolas reached for the sheet and covered her sprawling nakedness before he bent to kiss her on the forehead. By the time he pulled away, she was fast asleep.

Legolas instantly woke from reverie as a sound reached his ears. He turned toward the bed where Silivrén was moaning and writhing in her sleep. He wasn’t sure if she was actually asleep when she tossed the sheet away from herself.

Silivrén crawled out of her bed and walked toward him, the moonlight drifting from the window casting an alluring glow on her nude body.

Legolas sat up as she approached and he tried his best to avert his eyes from the places that instantly sent blood rushing to his groin. But he felt himself quickly losing his self-control. Unsure of her intentions, he waited to see what she would do. When she knelt up on the daybed and straddled his lap, all he could think about was the scent of her need and how desperately he wanted to appease her.

She placed her hands on his face and bent to claim his lips with an open mouth. As her tongue hungrily sought his, he was unable to resist and responded with the same hunger. He could taste the wine she had consumed throughout the night and wondered if she was still under its influence.

How far was she going to go with this? Legolas greatly wanted to heed the voice of reason speaking to him in his mind, telling him to stop immediately before she became implanted in his system…in his mind…in his heart. But there was also the voice of unlevel-headedness which completely blinded him to the circumstances, telling him to show her the pleasure that could be had at his fingertips. He nipped and sucked her lips, knowing he was feeding the raw emotions between them rather than dispelling them. But in that moment nothing else mattered…nothing but her.

Silivrén pulled away and arched her breasts in his face. She bit her lower lip when he grazed his tongue over a nipple.

Legolas suddenly wanted to see unbridled pleasure on her face and took the hardened tip into his mouth before teasing it with his teeth. When she released a soft moan, he desperately wanted to hear it again. Her scent continued to invade his nostrils, provoking him further, his fingers itching to touch her, to feel how much she wanted him. He turned her around to rest against him between his parted legs. She leaned her head back on his shoulder with a moan as he nipped at the side of her neck.

Silivrén writhed against him as he brought his hands around to cover her breasts, squeezing and caressing. Her soft moans cried for relief and he heard his name on her lips.

He nipped at her shoulder as he stared transfixed at the place his fingers began to intimately touch, finding her wet with desire. She writhed her backside against his arousal and he felt himself harden to the point of painfulness.

Legolas heard the dreaded voice of reason once again, telling him this was all wrong. She was intoxicated and wouldn’t remember anything in the morning. He wanted her, but not in this manner, not while she was under the influence of the wine. It was too easy to take advantage and he loved her too much to hurt her that way.

Before Legolas could put a stop to it, Silivrén cried out in intense relief, arching into his fingers. He didn’t know how to stop her cries and hoped no one would hear them. He waited what seemed an excruciating lifetime until it was over and she settled back against him. When she stopped moving, he realized she had drifted back to sleep.

With an agonized sigh, he carefully picked her up and carried her back to her bed. After covering her with the sheet, he bent to kiss her lips one last time, wanting to remember the taste. Then with the scent of her upon his fingers, he walked into the bath chamber to silently relieve his own need.

 

Chapter 12 – Small Steps​

The Present

Silivrén stepped out of her tent and looked around the campsite. The other tents were already packed away and it looked as if hers was the only remaining thing left standing. She blinked up to see the sun was already high in the sky. Her handmaiden motioned to the soldiers and three of them quickly came to dismantle the tent.

When she turned in another direction she found Legolas reclining backward on his horse’s bare back, hands behind his head, looking right at her. “Why didn’t someone wake me sooner?” she asked him.

“Are you in a hurry to move on?” he countered.

“You know my answer, Legolas.”

Legolas straightened up and hopped off Alagos’s rump. “You drank enough wine last night to keep you asleep for a week.” He smiled when she raised an uncertain hand to her mouth. “Have no fear, Erelei, you did nothing foolish in front of the men. You know I would never allow it.”

She sighed in relief. “Thank the Valar. You recall what happened the last time I had too much to drink.”

He gave her a crooked smile. “How can I ever forget?”
At Nineteen Years of Age

Silivrén woke up the morning after her birthday ball. Despite the throb in her head from the previous night’s drinking, she sat up and quickly discovered she wasn’t wearing her sleeping gown. A glance around the room revealed Legolas standing in front of the window, his back to her. He was bare from the waist up, wearing nothing but the white leggings he normally wore to bed. She was surprised because he rarely walked about so scantily clad around her anymore.

The sight of him brought forth a faint memory of shared moments of intimacy with him. Had it been a dream? She was uncertain, given the last discussion she had with Legolas when he told her a relationship between them would be impossible. She remembered kissing him and then he was touching her in places no one had ever before. Had it actually happened?

Deciding she needed to know the truth, Silivrén slipped out of her bed and pulled the sheet along with her to keep herself covered. There was no need to make her presence known because she knew he could hear the slightest sound. She came up behind him and pressed her cheek between his bare shoulder blades.

“How are you feeling this morning, Erelei?” he quietly asked.

“I am feeling rather tired.”

“You should return to bed then.”

“No, I don’t want to sleep anymore.” She turned her face to bring her lips to his skin and kissed him there. “Was it all a dream, Legolas?” she asked him in a whisper.

Legolas lifted his left arm and pulled Silivrén around to stand in front of him. She looked expectantly up at him.

Silivrén noticed his hair was unbraided, a rare sight for her. But she liked seeing it that way. It made him look much younger, even less intimidating.

“I shouldn’t have let it happen, Silivrén. You were in no condition to comprehend your actions. I feel as though I have betrayed your trust and I would understand if you were angry with me.”

“You regret it then?” She could see he searched her eyes for a clue to the answer she sought.

Then he finally shook his head. “No, there is nothing I would ever regret when it comes to you.”

Her eyes drifted down to his bare chest. “I should be the one apologizing. I behaved horribly toward you...like a spoiled child not getting her way. Will you ever forgive me?”

“You are already forgiven.”

Her lips curled into a smile as she met his eyes again. “Was I so tempting to you?”

“Far beyond my ability to control myself.”

Her smile faded when she saw he wasn’t sharing in her amusement. “I’m sorry.”

“No, Erelei, don’t apologize.” He placed his hands on her arms and released a heavy sigh. “I have given our circumstances considerable thought. Perhaps tis pure selfishness on my part, but I find myself despising the very thought of you sharing such intimate moments with someone else. I’m not saying I deserve the right…but neither would I want anyone else to have it.”

Silivrén couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Are you saying you want to be with me in that manner?”

“If you feel I deserve to be.”

“Oh, Legolas, no one is more deserving than you.”

He frowned at her response, having hoped that perhaps she could have made his decision easier by simply refusing him. But he was elated at the same time. Right or wrong, he loved her…with all his heart. It was clear now his feelings far exceeded what he once felt for her when she was a child. He reached up to brush the back of his fingers along her cheek. “Why are you blushing, Erelei?” he asked with a faint smile.

“My thoughts…” she trailed off.

“Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I’m thinking how terribly I want to kiss you.”

Legolas drew closer until he was nearly touching her lips with his. “Perhaps as much as I desire it.”

Silivrén held her breath until he finally pressed his lips to hers. She loved the way he tasted and couldn’t seem to get enough. But when Silivrén tried to quicken the pace, he slowed her down until she finally settled into his arms for a long, slow kiss.

After several minutes Legolas ended the kiss with her lower lip between his teeth. “Teress approaches.”

Silivrén let out a gasp and rushed into the bath, leaving the sheet with him.

Legolas quickly tossed it back on the bed and immediately slipped on a shirt as he turned back toward the window. By the time he was finished hooking the last clasp, Teress walked into the room. He hated that she had every right to enter without knocking.

“Where is Silivrén?” asked the handmaiden.

Legolas turned away from the window and tilted his head toward the bath. He looked away, but continued to watch her from the corner of his eye.

Teress stripped the bed and walked around to a pile of clothing on the floor. She sorted through the items and came across Silivrén’s sleeping gown. “Well, what in blazes is that girl wearing if not her sleeping gown?”

When she looked expectantly toward him, Legolas gave her a frown. “How should I know what she wears to bed? Her wardrobe is your responsibility, not mine.”

Teress mumbled something foul under her breath before bundling the linen and clothing together and walking out of the room.

Legolas raised his eyebrows and released a heavy sigh. He would warn Silivrén that Teress would be the first to be suspicious because she had complete access to everything belonging to her. They needed to be more careful around the handmaiden.

Silivrén could barely eat the food on her plate. Her thoughts were too busy trying to decipher her conversation with Legolas that morning. Not to mention the thoughts of what he would ask of her. Saleena told her so many things…often times she’d gag in disgust at the very idea of doing such things. Yet when her eyes turned to Legolas, she felt no revulsion and couldn’t imagine ever being with anyone else. There was nothing about him that repulsed her.

She stared at him from across the table, her eyes focused on his lips, recalling the taste of him and the sensual way he rendered soft moans from her throat. She wanted to feel everything with him. When Legolas returned her gaze with a small smile, she had to suppress her own.

“You’re awfully quiet this eve, Silivrén,” King Rataman said, breaking the silence. “I would think you had countless stories to tell me of your birthday festival. Did you not enjoy Eldarion’s company?”

Silivrén shrugged indifferently. “He was pleasant enough.” She wanted to blurt out to her father that she was in love with Legolas. But she knew the recklessness in that. If her father knew about her infatuation with the Elf, she would no longer be Legolas’s responsibility. Or even worse, the king might banish Legolas from Rhûn and she would never see him again. “Perhaps if he had stayed longer, we could have exchanged more than just a few words.”

“Eldarion has many places to stop on his journey before he returns to Gondor,” replied Legolas. He knew the young king had discussed an allegiance with Rataman earlier in the day and unfortunately Eldarion didn’t remain long enough to tell him how the negotiations went.

“Oh, I meant to bring this up sooner, but now’s a good a time as any,” the king announced. “I received six offers from young men wanting to court you.

Both Legolas and Silivrén stiffened at the same time. If anyone had been watching them more closely they would have thought something odd about their behavior.

“Unfortunately, none would make you happy or benefit our realm in any way.”

And they both simultaneously sighed in relief.

“Do you wish to know who offered?” asked Rataman.

“Not in the least.” Then suddenly Silivrén began to shovel food into her mouth until her plate was nearly empty.

Rataman watched her with bewilderment, wondering what could possibly have caused her to suddenly find the food appealing after having pushed it around her plate for the last hour. “What is your sudden rush to finish your meal?”

Silivrén wiped her full mouth. “I almost forgot that I want to watch the rain before it ends.” It was partly true. Rain in Rhûn was a rare treat. She saw her father smile and nod. Before she left the table she turned to Legolas.

He glanced toward the king to make sure he was engaged in conversation with his advisors before turning back to Silivrén. “Im innas dartho anle.” He watched her rush out of the hall, his heart already yearning to be with her in private. (I will wait for you)

Legolas waited in Silivrén’s chamber, sitting on his daybed. Patience had always been something he prided himself in. But it seemed to have left him on this night. He wanted Silivrén to retire to her rooms so he could be with her.

Where was she? What was taking so long for her to return?

He stood up and began to pace, contemplating whether to seek her out instead of waiting. But then he’d have to exchange his robe for his daily attire. Then he heard them. Footsteps…rushing up the stairs and down the corridor.

The door opened and Silivrén hasted inside before closing the door. She turned around to find Legolas standing in the center of the room. “I could not leave my friends so quickly,” she said in apology.

“No need to apologize, Erelei.” He noticed her soaked gown and imagined she had gone out to stand in the pouring rain, something he had witnessed on other occasions when she was younger. “Tis best if you remove your wet gown.”

Silivrén walked behind her dressing screen and slid out of her gown before slipping on her robe. She glanced toward Legolas. He paced the floor like a large cat behind a barred cage, his eyes never leaving her. The intensity of his glowing stare made her knees feel week and her head began swimming in a haze of severe trepidation. She stepped from behind the dressing screen.

Legolas immediately stopped pacing when she didn’t step further into the room. He sensed the sudden change in her mood. His impatience had frightened her. She was afraid…no, he didn’t want this. He didn’t want her to fear him in the least.

Silivrén felt her heartbeat quicken when he began to move toward her. His steps were slow and unthreatening. When he reached her, he reached up to cup her face, his thumbs brushing over her cheeks. She closed her eyes to his gentle touch. Her belly fluttered and she uttered a small cry as he guided her backward until her back pressed against the wall.

Legolas removed his hands from her face and reached down to lace his fingers with hers. He raised her hands up over her head, pressing them against wall. Then his lips brushed across her cheek toward her ear. “Trust me, Erelei. I won’t ever hurt you.”

She believed him, but her trust in him did little to quell the nervousness within her. Yet she also felt an overwhelming excitement to be with him, that he would be the one to take her to the places she had never been.

Legolas brought his lips to hers, kissing her softly. When his tongue touched her lips, she parted them and he dipped it inside her mouth. She raised her tongue to his. For a moment they slowly swirled their tongues around each other. After that he began to relentlessly suck and nip at her lips, wanting to devour them.

Silivrén’s head was reeling from the sensations coursing through her body. She knew nothing but the strong desire to be touched everywhere. She wanted him to release her hands, but he held them tightly above her head. Finally she sank her teeth into his tongue, just to get his attention.

Legolas pulled away from her lips and immediately proceeded to the side of her neck where he trailed wet kisses behind her ear.

Silivrén moaned once again and squirmed against the door, craving more contact with his body. “Legolas…please…”

“Please what?” he asked as his lips lightly sucked on her flesh.

“I am ablaze,” she groaned. “Please touch me.” When he finally released her hands, Silivrén nearly jumped on him, wrapping her arms around his neck and slipping her tongue into his mouth.

Legolas slid his arms around her back, holding her tightly against him before releasing her. Then his hands moved along her sides and up to cover her breasts over the robe.

She pulled away from his lips and looked down between them as his fingers brushed over the peaks beneath the thin fabric.

He leaned the side of his head against hers and looked down as he proceeded to pull open the top of her robe to expose her right breast. His hand returned to it, caressing her bare flesh, slowly stroking her until she moaned in pleasure.

When he bent further to run his tongue over the hardened tip, she leaned her head back against the door and closed her eyes. She had to bite her lower lip to keep from crying out as he sucked on her nipple and stroked the other with his fingers.

She felt an inferno in her womb, blazing out of control. The juncture of her thighs was on fire and she felt a desperate need to bring her hands between them, to cool the heat that burned the most intimate part of her.

When Silivrén uttered an agonized moan, Legolas raised his head and sought her lips briefly before he suddenly turned her around to face the wall. He leaned against her, bringing his lips to her ear. As he reached around to slowly pull off the robe, he kissed her bare shoulder and then proceeded to place more kisses down along her spine as he exposed her back.

A shiver ran through Silivrén as he moved further down her back. She glanced over her shoulder and found him on his knees, pulling down her robe until it pooled around her ankles. He brought his lips to her spine once again, very low on her back. As he went even further to the curve of her backside, his hands moved upward along the sides of her thighs until they came up to squeeze both mounds. And then he gently sank his teeth upon her flesh there.

Unable to stand it any longer, Silivrén placed her hands between her legs, seeking relief. She was in complete agony, trembling and moaning with desperate need.

Legolas turned her around to face him and he pulled her hands away from between her parted thighs. He leaned forward to bring his lips to the place he knew would make her squirm with pleasure.

Silivrén couldn’t stop her gasps as his tongue slowly rubbed circles around the swollen knot of flesh that jolted her. Her head swam in a glorious haze of desire.

He tasted the essence pouring from her, sensing that she was already close to completion.

Finally when she could bear no more, a flash of white struck the back of her eyes and the sensations that had built within her core suddenly rushed through her in a wave of heated bliss. She softly cried out as he proceeded to suck on her flesh, keeping her trembling until she could no longer breathe.

When her release faded, Legolas stood up and hungrily claimed her lips. His own need was strong, but he knew she wasn’t ready to continue. He wouldn’t take that step with her until he sensed the time was right.

He soon became aware she was getting drowsy. So he picked her up and carried her to the side of the bed, where he gently laid her down.

When he started to move away, Silivrén grasped his hand. “Where are you going?”

“I need to use the bath.”

Silivrén released his hand and watched him disappear into the bath. He didn’t emerge for nearly ten minutes. Wearing only his robe, he reclined beside her on the bed and pulled the sheet over them. She wrapped her arms around him and rested her head against his chest before closing her eyes.

Legolas sighed in contentment. Once Silivrén’s desire built, it seemed to push her trepidation aside. He realized he would still need to take small steps. But it was a journey he looked forward to.

 

Chapter 13 – Fated Union​

The Present

It took nearly an entire day to pass through North Ithilien. Legolas hardly recognized the thick woodland any longer. When he left it over twenty years ago, it was still young with freshly planted trees. He was glad to see that some of the older trees recognized his presence and sang their whispered melodies in the breeze.

The village had thrived in his absence. He had left good men in charge of its growth and he felt pride in what they accomplished.

The word had quickly spread through the streets and soon their party was surrounded by villagers of every age.

“Prince Legolas has returned!” they cried.

Legolas felt his heart constrict from both joy and sorrow. Seeing the village again brought back joyful memories of triumphant, happy times. But there were also painful memories…of friends long gone.

As Legolas rode ahead of the others, he acknowledged the people with little enthusiasm. He had not wanted to return to Gondor or Ithilien…or to Minas Tirith. But circumstances brought him back and for a reason he loathed with every fiber of his being.

He glanced over his shoulder, his eyes falling on the woman who held his heart clenched in her fist. Her eyes were panicked and full of dread. Their time together was coming to an end. There was nothing left to tie him to the land of Men.

Seated on horses at the end of the street were four Gondorian guards.

Legolas took a deep breath as he nudged Alagos into a trot. When he reached the guards, he slowed to a walk and halted before them.

One of the guards moved his horse forward and greeted Legolas with a bow of his head. “Your arrival is much anticipated, my Lord.”

Legolas nodded in return. “Inform the king of Gondor…I bring him his betrothed.” He watched the guard spin his horse around and immediately gallop off. The further the guard went, the tighter Legolas’s chest became. It became so much that he could hardly breathe. A thought crossed his mind as his vision suddenly darkened…perhaps he would never make it to the Grey Havens…or to Valinor…afterall.

Silivrén stared with wide eyes as Legolas swayed on his horse and suddenly toppled off, landing hard on the ground. “Legolas!” She jumped off Anorcelair and sprinted toward him.

Collin followed at her heels after seeing the Elf fall. They reached him at the same time.

She fell to the ground beside Legolas and gently lifted his head in her lap.

Legolas’s eyes fluttered open for a brief moment. “Erelei…” he mumbled before his eyes closed again.

Silivrén worriedly looked up at Collin. “He’s ill, Collin. Help him.”

Collin frowned. He had never heard of an Elf falling ill before. Something wasn’t right. What could have happened to suddenly cause Legolas’s ailment?
At Twenty-One Years of Age

The glow of early dawn filtered through the window of Silivrén’s bedroom chamber.

As she reached for his hand, pulling it to her, Legolas opened his eyes. His fingers came in contact with her damp folds and he immediately began to pleasure her while she stroked him with a familiar hand. Their lips clashed together hungrily. When she reached up to brush her fingers over the pointed tip of his ear, he shivered and closed his eyes again.

Like so many times before, Legolas’s patience quickly left him. He gently rolled Silivrén onto her back and moved himself between her parted thighs. She looked up at him with lust-filled eyes as he slowly entered her. Before she could release the cry he knew would follow, he covered her lips with his, plundering her sweet mouth with his tongue.

They moved in tandem, rocking slowly back and forth. It wasn’t long before their pace quickened.

Silivrén clawed at his back, gasping silently when he released her mouth and allowed her to breathe. She panted and arched upward to meet his controlled thrusts. Soon they were not quite so controlled and she knew he was close to release. Her own release came upon her with a fury and she squeezed her eyes shut. “Legolas…”

Legolas drove into her soft center with erratic movements. He knew he was probably hurting her, but he couldn’t control the furious need that overwhelmed him. And then he fell into the blinding abyss of relentless pleasure. He shivered in his release and buried his face in the crook of her neck to muffle his cry.

When it was over, he slowly rolled off her onto his back and sighed in relief. Silivrén curled herself against him and he pulled her into his arms, placing a tender kiss upon her forehead.

“I love you,” she whispered against the side of his neck.

He closed his eyes in contentment. “Im meleth annin, Erelei.” (I love you, too, sweet one)

Silivrén stirred and when he looked down at her, she smiled. “You won’t ever deny me, will you, Legolas?”

“No, I will never deny you. You have but to ask and I will be at your side.” He kissed her lips slowly, tasting what he could never seem to get enough of. Then he glanced toward the window. “But for now I must leave you.”

She protested with a groan and clung to him. “No…I don’t want you to go.”

Ever since Teress nearly walked in on them several months ago, Legolas didn’t trust his Elven senses…not when he was so thoroughly engrossed in the scent and feel and taste of the young woman beside him. The handmaiden opened the door and reacting quickly, Legolas slid off the opposite side of the bed and crawled beneath it before she entered the room. He watched her feet moving around the bed and heard her rousing up Silivrén. If the handmaiden had been so inclined to look under the bed, she would have been surprised to find a naked Elf.

That morning had nearly spelled the end for him.

Legolas gently pulled himself out of Silivrén’s grasp and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He reached for his leggings on the floor and stood up to slip into them. When he turned back around, he gazed at his heart’s desire.

She smiled up at him, the look of a satisfied lover upon her face. “Will you take me to the falls today?”

He returned her smile. The waterfalls several miles east of the kingdom walls had been the place where Legolas had first claimed her innocence. It had only been a month after he made the decision to be with her. In the months that followed, they shared many more intimate moments at the falls before risking their amorous ways at night in her bedroom. Often even in the early morning hours while everyone was still asleep. “I thought you had plans with Saleena and Lorin.”

Silivrén rolled over on her stomach and reached for his leggings, tugging them down. “I can change my mind if I want to.”

Legolas backed away from her hands and pulled his leggings back up. “Fine. We will go to the falls.” His eyes immediately gravitated to her nakedness when she shamelessly pulled herself up on her knees in front of him. No matter how often he saw her this way, she always managed to take his breath away.

“Kiss me,” she gently mandated.

He closed the gap between them and reached up to take her face in his hands as he gave her what she wanted without hesitation. Her lips were swollen from his previous ministrations upon them, but he hungrily sucked on them until he was forced to pull away. The sound of footsteps reached his ears and he quickly moved to the daybed.

Just as Silivrén slid beneath the sheets, the door opened.

Teress walked into the bed chamber and walked around Silivrén’s bed as she did every morning, picking up scattered clothing here and there. “Wake up, Silivrén, your father awaits you for the morning meal.”

Silivrén yawned and stretched in her bed. “Tell him I am not hungry.”

The handmaiden walked toward the daybed, eying the Elf seated upon it, casually brushing his hair. Her eyes drifted down to his bare chest and she flushed red. “The king wishes to see you as well.” He didn’t respond to her, as usual so she turned away from him. Her eyes widened when Silivrén crawled out of her bed, not a stitch of clothing on her body. “Silivrén!”

Silivrén stepped away from her bed and shamelessly walked toward the bath chamber. As she moved passed Legolas, her handmaiden desperately tried to cover her with a robe.

When both of them disappeared into the other room, Legolas raised his eyebrows and shook his head. What could possibly have made Silivrén act so boldly in front of the handmaiden? Was she trying to ruin him?

King Rataman seemed particularly merry as they ate their morning meal. Both Legolas and Silivrén noticed this immediately.

“What makes you so cheerful so early in the morning?” Silivrén finally asked him.

The king pushed his plate aside with a smile and looked up at his daughter. “This morning I finally received the affirmation I have been awaiting the last six months.”

“What kind of affirmation?” she continued to inquire.

“You, my dear daughter, are finally betrothed.”

Silivrén stared at her father in disbelief while Legolas visibly stiffened.

“The king of Gondor,” Rataman announced. “He has accepted my proposal for your hand.”

Legolas felt his chest constrict. The woman he loved betrothed to Eldarion, the son of his greatest friend.

Silivrén finally found her voice. “But…I do not love him.”

He waved away her statement as irrelevant. “That will come in time.”

“No, it won’t,” she debated in a harsher tone.

The king turned to her with a frown. “What in Arda’s name is the matter with you?”

She desperately thought of an excuse…anything at all to change the decision of her father. “I don’t…I don’t want to be queen.”

“Nonsense. That is your destiny. There is no other path for you.”

Silivrén turned toward Legolas. He was looking down at his plate, his jaw muscles wound tight. She waited for him to say something, to help her persuade her father that she didn’t need to marry anyone…that he would step up and rule Rhûn beside her. But he remained silent. She angrily pushed away from the table and rushed out of the room.

Legolas cringed as he sensed her anger and betrayal. He could do nothing but remain seated and act indifferent…while his heart was on the verge of shredding to pieces. He nearly jumped when Rataman spoke again.

“What has gotten into that girl?” He sighed and turned to the silent Elf seated across the table. “You know well the king of Gondor, Legolas.”

Legolas frowned and blinked several times before finally raising his eyes. “I know him well. I was there at the time of his birth.”

“Then you know the kind of man he is.”

“Aye.”

“When last he came here, we spoke but little and I hardly had the opportunity to form an opinion of him. Will he make Silivrén happy? Will he be good to her?”

Legolas swallowed the lump in his throat and fought to find his voice in order to respond. “Aye, he would.”

“A union between Gondor and Rhûn would strengthen the lands of Men…all of them.”

Legolas knew it to be true.

It made sense to unite Gondor and Rhûn, making it the largest country in the eastern continent. Eldarion would become more powerful. With his immortality, he could rule indefinitely. And Silivrén would reign as his queen.

Legolas turned his gaze back to the king and decided to challenge what he had known all along about Silivrén. “Are you going to tell her?”

“What more is there to tell her?”

“She has Elven blood.”

King Rataman looked at the Elf with renewed interest. “How do you know this?”

“I sensed it the moment I saw her that first day eleven years ago.”

“And you said nothing.”

“I did not feel it was my place to speak of it.”

The king stood up angrily. “Well it isn’t your place to speak of it now!” he yelled as he stepped away from the table. He paced for a moment before pausing. “Ophelia…my wife was carrying Silivrén when she was betrothed to me. It was an arranged marriage of convenience. She was forced to marry me even though she was in love with the Elf that impregnated her.” He turned to face Legolas. “When they found him, I immediately ordered his execution. Ophelia never knew what happened to him and neither must Silivrén.”

Legolas lowered his gaze when the king walked toward him.

Rataman placed a hand on the table beside Legolas. “I can’t stress enough the importance of this union between my daughter and the king of Gondor. I have slaved for six months to convince him and he has finally accepted. You must see to it that Silivrén does not disobey me.”

“She has a strong will of her own,” Legolas countered, but he knew it was a weak attempt to dissuade the king’s decision. Things were in motion and they could no longer be unmade. He had seen enough arranged marriages in his lifetime and knew the consequences for those who opposed them.

“In a fortnight, you will take her to Gondor. I will join her once I have settled matters here ” He tapped the wooden table with his knuckles to get the Elf’s attention. “If you breathe a single word to my daughter about her true heritage, I will see you hung from the highest turret of my castle. Do you understand?”

Legolas felt degraded for the first time since he accepted the position of Silivrén’s guardian. He had always been treated with the highest respect by the king. He realized his mistake in telling Rataman he knew about Silivrén. But the damage was done.

“I asked you a question,” Rataman said, raising his voice.

Legolas wanted to tell him that Silivrén wasn’t even his daughter to do with as he wanted. She was the daughter of an Elf. But he held his tongue. “I understand,” he quietly said.

“Good.” Rataman straightened and walked out of the hall with a purpose.

Legolas released the breath he had been holding. There was nothing he could do. If the king found out about his intimate relationship with Silivrén, he would surely be executed just as Silivrén’s real father had been.

A moment later he stood up and went in search of Silivrén, knowing she was probably distraught.
So now I must explain why my head is literally in a cloud…Cloud Strife, that is. My nephew recently introduced me to a CG movie called Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children and the disturbed person that I am, I became hooked on the main character. Now, I’m not saying that Legolas is no longer my number one…he’s 1A and Cloud is 1B. In fact, I think the reason I like Cloud is because he kind of reminds me of Legolas in a weird way.

Anyway, I started writing a fic about him that I’m not sure whether I’ll post on this site because I’ll probably get blasted for my Mary Sue character. If anyone’s interested in reading it, I’ll start posting it on my Yahoo group: Black Shadow Acres. But I swear on all that is Holy in this world, “Destined to Reign” will continue to be my top project.

Here’s a quick excerpt of chapter 2 to promote my Cloud Strife fic which I have yet to put a title to (you don’t have to read it if you don’t want to) –
Later that afternoon, I was right in the middle of eating a hot dog when the big guy named Barret yelped out of the clear blue.

“Yo, Spiky!”

I turned to where everyone was looking and promptly began choking on the hot dog.

Making his way down the deck stairs to the grass where the picnic tables were set up was none other than my elusive biker friend. Heck, I could have spotted the gravity-defying spiked blonde hair a mile away. What in the world were the chances of running into him at my cousin’s friend’s barbecue? Slim to none. Yet there he was.

Tammy elbowed me. “That’s him. That’s Cloud.”

Wonderful. He just so happened to be the guy Tammy couldn’t stop talking about earlier…the cute, sensitive, bad boy who would think I was hot. This was the icing on the cake. Did I dare tell her I had seen him on the streets on Thursday when he challenged me to a race in which he totally cheated?

He walked around, greeting everyone individually and finally made his way to the party host. “Hey, Cid, sorry I’m late.”

“No problem, buddy. Grab a burger or a dog. There’s plenty of food.”

Things couldn’t have gotten any better…or worse…Cloud came and sat directly across from Tammy and I at our picnic table. Funny how he chose our table when there was plenty of room elsewhere. But then again, our table was where all the food was.

“Hello, Tammy,” he said.

“Hi, Cloud.” She emphasized his name for my sake.

Then his eyes shifted to me as he grabbed a burger from the tray in the center of the table. “Hello, Tammy’s friend.”

“Oh, Cloud, this is my cousin, Tessa. She moved in with me a couple weeks ago.”

He nodded to me. “Nice to meet you, cousin Tessa.” He proceeded to squirt large globs of ketchup and mustard on his burger. Then just before he was about to take a bite, he put the burger down and pointed a finger at me. “Do I know you from somewhere?”

I opened my mouth to remind him of our little encounter at the stoplight the other day, but Tammy jumped in before I could get a word out.

“Yeah, she kinda looks like some of those women in the catalog in Tifa’s bathroom.”

He frowned and turned to Tammy. “What catalog?”

“That lingerie catalog you were carrying around last month. You said you’d hang up your swords to get a date with one of those women.”

“You’re crazy. I never said that.”

“I have witnesses,” Tammy defended with a grin.

Annoyed that the subject changed in the blink of an eye, just when Cloud had been about to recall where he had seen me, I cleared my throat and they both turned to me. “Just for the record, you cheated,” I pointed out.

Cloud raised his blonde eyebrows. “Cheated?” Then suddenly recognition came to his face and he nodded with a grimace. “You’re the girl with the car.”

“And you’re the guy with the motorcycle.”

“Whoa, wait a minute,” Tammy jumped in again. “You two know each other?”

“Well, we don’t really know each other,” I replied. “We were at a stoplight and he wanted to race.”

“I beat you fair and square. Not my fault you can’t handle your car.” Cloud took a bite out of his burger, his brows drawn together on his uniquely flawless handsome face.

Tammy jumped in for the third time and turned to me. “Let me get this straight. You were racing him?” She pointed a thumb in Cloud’s direction. “Nobody can beat his motorcycle.”

“I rest my case,” said Cloud before taking another bite out of his burger.

I slowly turned to him. “Well, since you seem to have a thing for lingerie, maybe I should have unbuttoned my shirt and showed you my bra. That might have distracted you.”

Cloud stopped chewing and stared into my eyes. “Maybe…” he mumbled with his mouth full. He finished swallowing. “And I don’t have a thing for lingerie. I don’t know what catalog your cousin is talking about.”

Leaving them to argue it out, I got up to get another beer and was gratified to see his eyes instantly gravitate in my direction. Those eyes. Damn, the things they did to my insides was astronomical…and I didn’t even know this guy. I walked over to the cluster of coolers and dug into one for a cold beer. Then as an afterthought I grabbed two more.

When I went back to sit down, Cloud was biting into a second burger. He looked up when I set a beer in front of him. “Thanks,” he acknowledged under his breath.

Then the young girl named Yuffie ran over and hugged Cloud from behind. “You are so adorable, Cloud, I could just eat you up! Isn’t he adorable?” She kissed his ear as he tried to squirm away from her.

In the next instant Yuffie went off to harass someone else.

Cloud frowned. “Damn, she’s a pain in my ass sometimes.”

“Girlfriend?” I asked with a smile, knowing she wasn’t. But I wanted to rib him anyway because he clearly looked annoyed by the attention she had given him.

His eyes shot up in repressed anger. “No! She’s not my girlfriend! I’d rather shave my head and jump in a pit of boiling lava!”

I held my hands up in defense. “Sorry.”

He tossed the half-eaten burger on his paper plate and popped open the beer before standing up. “Real nice chatting with you,” he said with a touch of sarcasm.

I watched him walk away to join several other guys standing together. I turned to my cousin with a frown. “Where in the hell did you get the idea he’d like me?”

“Are you kidding? He’s practically in love with you already.”

“He’s a fucking jerk!”

“That’s just the way he is sometimes with people he doesn’t know. But you should have seen the way he was looking at you when you got up. I mean, he was literally undressing you with his eyes.”

“He was not.”

“I swear he was.”

“Whatever.”

“Fine, don’t believe me. But I bet you twenty bucks he’ll ask for your phone number by the time we leave here tonight.”

“Fat chance of that ever happening. What’s his problem anyway?”

“Well…Cloud’s got some issues.”

“Issues. Like what?”

“He used to be in SOLDIER.”

My jaw dropped in surprise. “Him?”

“Yeah and there’s more. I mean, I don’t know all the details or anything, just bits and pieces.”

And she went on to tell me a few startling facts about Cloud…Strife…things she had heard from the others.

Maybe she shouldn’t have told me anything because now I was fanatical. I suddenly wanted to know everything about him. Just like a rock star who couldn’t be touched, Cloud seemed beyond my reach. There was a valid reason for my sudden obsession with him. Our hardships were somewhat in line, although mine weren’t quite as extensive as his, which seemed to span his lifetime, while mine were only in recent years.

 

Chapter 14 – Fallen Prince​

The Present

Legolas stood at the open terrace of the House of Healing, gazing at the fields that stretched out beyond Minas Tirith. He recalled each time he rode through those fields, each battle fought there. A bittersweet smile crossed his face at the memory of his dwarf friend, Gimli and their constant challenge to outdo each other in the number of enemies they killed. He sighed heavily, recalling that Gimli hadn’t walked the land of the living for over five decades.

A familiar scent drifted passed him, but he didn’t turn to acknowledge her presence. Instead he waited for her to speak. When she spoke his name, he closed his eyes in silent reverie…letting the ache in his heart consume him without a struggle.

Silivrén approached him from behind and touched his arm. “Legolas…” she said again. She dared not embrace him as she desperately wanted to. There were too many others about, tending to his room. When he didn’t respond, she moved around to step in front of him.

His eyes remained closed, even as she reached out to brush her fingers over the exposed skin of his chest beneath the white robe he wore.

“Why have you fallen ill?” she asked.

Legolas slowly opened his eyes and the pain rushed through him once again upon seeing her. He tried to remain stoic. “Tis nothing. I will be fine.”

She frowned as she continued to caress his chest. “Do not start lying to me now, Legolas. Please tell me what ails you. Is it the injury from the Orc arrow? What is it?”

He wanted to tell her everything…that he loved her so much his heart couldn’t tolerate being apart from her…that he was slowly fading in the most painful manner an Elf could endure…that the man she thought to be her father was not and that her real father, an Elf, had been executed so she would never discover the truth. He wanted to tell her, yet he feared the consequences, not for himself, but those she would have to face.

Before he could respond, the sound of scurrying feet behind him revealed the presence of someone the servants were quick to acknowledge. Silivrén’s hand dropped away from his chest and she moved away from him.

When Legolas turned to look over his shoulder, Eldarion stepped into the room.

The young king of Gondor waited for the servants to rush out the door, closing it lightly behind them. Then he approached the terrace. “You still don’t look well, my friend.” He glanced in Silivrén’s direction, curiously wondering about her presence in Legolas’s chamber of healing, other than perhaps her concern for the Elf who had been her guardian since she was a child.

“I was injured in a scuffle with Orcs. Perhaps I am not yet fully recovered from it.”

“The healers tell me different.” Eldarion knew Legolas was making excuses for his sudden illness. He turned to Silivrén. “Please do not take offense, Silivrén, but I wish to speak to Legolas alone.”

She bowed her head and walked away, but not before Eldarion caught the meaningful glance she gave to Legolas.

The young king waited until she left the room and closed the door before turning back to Legolas. “You know as well as I do what ails you.”

“Perhaps I have lingered too long and should sail west to be with my kin.”

He studied the Elf for a long time, coming to the conclusion that what he previously suspected might be true. “You love her.”

Legolas’s eyes slowly shifted in his direction, but he didn’t speak. He wondered how Eldarion could have possibly known.

“Deny it, Legolas and you will be free to go to the Grey Havens.” When the Elf still didn’t speak, Eldarion frowned. All Eldarion needed to hear was that Legolas’s relationship with Silivrén had only been that of a guardian and his ward…no more. “Tis right then for me to assume you have had intimate relations with my future bride?”

The Elf turned away, a myriad of emotions crossing his ageless face. “She is not to blame. It occurred before we even knew you wanted her hand.”

“Let me ask you this…friend…did you act alone when you made the decision to bed her? Was she an unwilling participant? If she was, then I fear your troubles have only just begun.”

Legolas grimaced and shook his head. “No.”

“Were you planning to ask for her hand?”

He shook his head again. “I couldn’t. Her father never would have accepted my proposal.”

“Well did it ever occur to you that he might someday accept the proposal of another? Did it ever occur to you that her future husband would be expecting a virgin bride?”

Tears welled up in Legolas’s eyes and he turned to Eldarion. “Aye, it occurred to me.”

“Yet you obviously didn’t care or we wouldn’t be having this discussion.” Eldarion stared at the Elf he had known all of his life. “What say you to that?”

Legolas frowned and looked down, not bothering to wipe at the tears spilling from his eyes. “I love her. That is all.”

“You’ve put me in a terribly awkward position, Legolas. If I don’t act, then I will be resented by my people for having a weak soul. And if I do act, then I am condemning one who I call friend…one who my parents cherished with all their heart.”

“Do what you must, Eldarion. I cannot sway what my heart feels.”

The king of Gondor continued to stare…images of his childhood filling his head…of the cheerful Elf picking him up and spinning him around…tickling him and making him laugh so fiercely he could barely breathe. He hardly recognized the Elf who stood before him. “So be it.” Eldarion walked away and nearly made it to the door before he slowed his steps and stopped. He didn’t turn back around. “She’s the reason you stayed, isn’t it?”

“I fear nothing in this world…not even death,” Legolas said, barely in a whisper. “Yet…losing her terrifies me.”

Eldarion frowned as he felt his own eyes beginning to burn from unshed tears. What should have been a joyous time in his life…it was all falling apart. His friend and his future bride…He would tell no one else of the incident. He reached for the door handle. “I want you out of Minas Tirith and out of my sight by morning.” Eldarion walked out and slammed the door behind him.
At Twenty-One Years of Age

Legolas searched everywhere in the palace for Silivrén. When he went to the stables and found Anorcelair’s stall empty, he quickly guided Alagos out of his stall. Not bothering to bridle or saddle him, Legolas vaulted up on the stallion’s back and galloped him out of the stable.

Alagos charged through the streets of the kingdom, heedless of the citizens jumping out of the animal’s way.

Seated on a large rock near the falls, Silivrén felt the misty spray of the cool water touch her flushed face. She wiped at the tears spilling from her eyes. Her world was suddenly falling apart…everything had been so perfect. Why did things have to change? Why was she destined to be queen? All she wanted was to live out her life with the only one who filled her heart with love and happiness. She would never be happy with Eldarion and her father could never force her to be.

The sound of an approaching horse had her jumping to her feet and retreating inside a hidden alcove behind the falls.

“Silivrén!”

She recognized Legolas’s voice and rushed out of the alcove.

Alagos slid to a stop nearby and Legolas jumped off his bare back.

Silivrén ran into his arms and she shamelessly cried in his chest. “I cannot do what my father asks of me!”

Legolas tried to console her, but his own emotions were fragile and he didn’t trust his own voice to even speak.

“Why didn’t you say something?” Silivrén suddenly pulled away from him and she angrily wiped at her eyes. “Why didn’t you tell my father that we love each other?”

He shook his head and opened his mouth to speak, but again he was unable to form any words without breaking.

Silivrén took several steps away from him and her face creased in renewed sobs. “Tis all a lie…you never loved me.”

Legolas took a step forward. He wanted to tell her it wasn’t true. He did love her.

“You took what you wanted from me, making me believe I was giving myself to you because you loved me.” She scowled in fury. “You used me for your own pleasure.”

“No!” he finally ground out. “I…I love you, Silivrén.” Perhaps he shouldn’t have said it, that it would have been better if she hated him. Things would have been easier for her to deal with when she went to Minas Tirith.

“Then why did you not defend our love to my father?”

“It cannot be…” He desperately tried to keep his emotions under control, but it was a losing battle. “We knew this all along, Silivrén. We knew that one day things would change.”

“I only knew how I felt when I was with you. Why can it not be?”

“An Elf cannot rule your country.”

“And who says this is law?”

“Your father…it…it simply cannot be, that is all I can say.”

“Then I will refuse to accept the proposal.” She moved toward him, placing her hands on his chest and looking hopeful. “We can run away together. We can hide in the woods of your homeland.”

“They will search for us.”

“But eventually they will cease.”

“You are the only heir to the throne of Rhûn. Your father will never cease.” He reached up to place his hands on her face. “Silivrén, they will hunt us down. You will be forced to comply with your father and…I will be…” The words remained lodged in his throat.

Silivrén threw her arms around him. “No, they cannot touch you. You are my one and only love.”

“They will kill me,” he finally managed. Although he knew he would eventually die from the sudden overwhelming ache in his heart. Silivrén had Elven blood and a bond had been formed between them. He hadn’t asked for it, but it happened nonetheless and now it was too late to undo what had been done. His greatest fear was that Silivrén would find herself suddenly weakening. He prayed her human blood would compensate and she wouldn’t fade from a broken heart the way he soon would.

Silivrén began kissing his face. “Make love to me, Legolas.” Her hands moved over his chest. “I need to feel you.”

Legolas knew he should have walked away then, but he had neither the strength or the will to do so. He wanted her with every fiber of his being. He ached for her every moment of the day and night. How could he possibly live without her?

Their lips found each other in the next instant. Clothing flew in every direction. The green grass along the side of the lagoon cushioned them as they laid down for what could have been their last time together.

 

Chapter 15 – What Hurts the Most​

The Present

Legolas strode in the direction of stables to prepare Alagos for the long journey to the Grey Havens. It was not yet light out and he wanted to be well beyond the Pelennor Fields before the sun rose. Without the Rhûn party to travel with, he could cover more ground by himself in the coming days.

There was another reason he wanted to leave before anyone stirred. He despised saying goodbye and saying it to Silivrén would be a disaster.

His thoughts drifted to the dream he had. Elves didn’t normally sleep unless injured or suffering. Although he had slept through the night…most of it was fitful tossing and turning. Nienna visited him in his dream. She was a Vala, sister to Mandos, the Doomsman and keeper of the Halls. It wasn’t often Elves were visited by the Valor in their dreams. Yet he had been visited twice. The first time by Varda, who had told him of his quest and advised him to travel east beyond the borders of his home. Following Varda’s advice, his travels took him to Rhûn. And now Nienna visited him and had further advice.

“Tis critical you follow your heart,” said Nienna.

“How can I when I have no faith in myself? I could have prevented all of this by refusing her from the start. I need to face what I’ve done and accept the pain as my punishment.”

“This overwhelming guilt you feel cannot be justified, but your love for Silivrén can.”

“No, I have done her wrong. She has forever lost her chance for happiness with another.”

“She is for you, Legolas. You know this to be true. And she will need you more than ever when she discovers her true heritage. Remember these words. Glory comes from daring to begin. I fear an onerous journey awaits you if you choose to let her go.”

This was the only time in his life he decided he would not heed the advice of the Valor. No one else knew about Silivrén’s Elven heritage so there was little risk she would ever find out…unless Rataman decided to tell her and Legolas didn’t think that would ever happen. No…he would cross the sea to Valinor and pray that the bond between him and Silivrén would be severed.

Legolas reached the stables and silently stepped inside. From their stalls, the horses acknowledged his presence with soft sounds as he passed. At the last stall stood Alagos. Usually the stallion began to prance excitedly whenever Legolas approached. But oddly Alagos remained motionless as if afraid to move.

Legolas discovered the reason for his stallion’s stillness the moment he opened the stall door. Silivrén was sound asleep, curled up beneath the stallion’s feet. He understood why she was there and his plan to slip away before dawn was quickly squashed. As he knelt down beside her, he knew deep down inside he was relieved to look upon her one last time.

He reached out and brushed the hair out of her eyes. When he gently caressed her cheek with his thumb, she stirred with a sigh.

Silivrén opened her eyes and seemed disoriented at first. When she sat up and saw Legolas kneeling beside her, she immediately closed the gap between them and slid her arms around his neck. “Legolas…”

Legolas complied and folded his arms around her. He closed his eyes and inhaled her scent, locking it away in his memories. “What are you doing here, Erelei?” he whispered in her ear.

“I knew you would try to leave without saying goodbye. Do you think I do not know you well, Legolas?”

He smiled to himself. “Aye, you know me quite well.”

She pulled away to look into his eyes. “Why must you go? Why can you not stay here in Minas Tirith?”

“Eldarion knows about us.”

“I do not care if he knows.”

“He has ordered me to leave.”

“No, he cannot do this. He is your friend.”

Legolas reached up to cup her chin. “Listen to me, Silivrén. I cannot stay. I must go.”

She threw her arms around his neck again. “I won’t let you go. Never.”

“I will die if I stay.”

Silivrén began to weep. “I will die if you go.”

He held her again, trying desperately to hold back his own tears without much success. He held her for a long time, even as he sensed the approaching dawn. Finally he pulled away and placed both hands on her face. “Just remember, Erelei…I love you.”

Silivrén saw the tears on his face and knew he spoke the truth.

As Legolas stood up, he pulled Silivrén up on her feet. Then he leaned in to capture her lips for one final kiss. It was over too quickly. He vaulted up on Alagos’s back.

Silivrén grabbed his boot and began to sob again. “No, Legolas! Please…don’t go!”

He swallowed the lump in his throat and nudged the stallion with his heels. Alagos moved forward, forcing Silivrén to release Legolas’s boot.

She stared through a haze of tears as the Elf disappeared out of the stable. Her legs gave out beneath her and she fell to her knees. “Elbereth, help me!” she pleaded to the Gods.

Eldarion brooded from his seat upon the throne of Gondor. Seated below in the chairs reserved for his advisors was Silivrén.

His guard stood at the door and when Eldarion waved his hand, the man hurried forward and bowed his head at the foot of the throne steps. “My Lord, Prince Legolas is nowhere to be found. His horse is also gone from the stables.”

A quick glance toward Silivrén and Eldarion saw her stiffen. A nod sent the guard rushing out of the hall. Eldarion studied Silivrén’s face. Her skin was white, almost ghost-like. Her expression was completely blank, devoid of any emotion. The only telltale sign of her sadness was the redness in her eyes.

Ever since she arrived in Minas Tirith, she hadn’t spoken a word to him or showed any interest in their upcoming betrothal. The fact that she would soon be queen should have sparked some kind of emotion. But there was nothing. She ceased to exist.

He misjudged the profoundness of the love shared between her and Legolas. He had hoped it to be a passing fancy…merely a lust fulfilled. But now he knew she loved the Elf with all her heart.

It concerned him that she might take her own life if someone didn’t watch her day and night.

Days passed and Silivrén confined herself to her chambers. She didn’t eat anything her maids brought to her and she wouldn’t accept the invitations from the ladies in court to join them for tea. She wanted nothing to do with anyone. Her overwhelming misery was making her ill and she felt powerless to stop it.

Teress entered her chamber as she did every morning to personally tend to her. “Silivrén, you cannot stay in this room indefinitely.”

“I can if I want to,” was Silivrén’s quiet reply from where she sat on the window ledge, staring out at the open plains of the Pelennor.

The handmaiden walked to the window and tenderly caressed the back of Silivrén’s head, smoothing her light chestnut hair. “Tis normal to be nervous regarding such matters.”

Silivrén closed her eyes as tears pooled in them. “You know nothing of what I feel, Teress.”

“I know more than you think, child, for I had a hand in raising you from your birth.”

Silivrén shook her head and the tears spilled down her cheeks. “If you did then you would know to whom my heart is bound.”

“I have known for a long time. Tis not with the king but with a certain Elven prince.”

Silivrén raised her eyes up to the handmaiden. “You’ve known?”

Teress sat down on the opposite side of the ledge. “Your mother was a wonderful woman. She was kind and gentle to everyone and was loved by her people without abandon.”

Silivrén wondered why the handmaiden suddenly spoke of her mother.

“Ophelia was under my care before she was betrothed to the king. She was in love with an Elf, yet she had been forced to marry your father. It seems your path has followed that of your mother.”

“Did she ever…love my father?”

“She did in her own way, but I knew her heart still belonged to Thavron.”

“How did she overcome her grief at never seeing him again?”

“Time heals the wounds of our hearts.”

Silivrén placed her hands over her chest. “But I ache terribly. I feel as though my heart bleeds inside me…I cannot bear this pain. Why did he have to leave?”

Teress shook her head in sympathy. “He feels your pain tenfold. He loves you, Silivrén and remaining here would only bring death upon him.”

There was a light knock on the door.

Teress left the window ledge and walked to the door, opening it to reveal King Eldarion. She quickly bowed before him. “My Lord.” She didn’t raise her head until after the king walked passed her into the room.

“Leave us, please,” Eldarion said softly.

Teress gave Silivrén another sympathetic look before exiting the room and closing the door behind her.

Silivrén looked away from Eldarion as he approached her.

“Will you never again grace me with your smile, Silivrén?”

“I have nothing to smile about.” There was no need to pretend. He knew about her love for Legolas.

“You could have turned down my proposal, Silivrén, yet here you are.”

“I do this only for my father.”

“Tis a noble deed, but worthless to me. I want a wife, not a soulless apparition.”

Silivrén swung her legs off the window ledge and turned angry eyes at him. “How could you send him away like that? He is your friend. He was your father’s friend.”

“How could I?” Eldarion countered. “I had no such desire to see him leave. But if he stayed then I would have been forced to lose my trust in him and in you. What would stop him from secretly meeting you? What would stop you? I had no choice!”

“I marry you for my father and for my people. But I will never willingly lie in your bed.”

He frowned at her. “I feared this would be your decision.”

“You may force me to do your bidding, but I will never love you.”

“You say you do this for your father and your people. You want nothing for yourself?”

Tears filled her eyes and she refused to wipe them away. “You’ve made it clear I cannot have what I want.”

“I would never agree to such an arrangement and even if I could…Legolas has too much pride and too many morals to love another man’s wife. I could have asked him to stay, but I know he would have left anyway.”

She remained silent as the tears slid down her pale cheeks.

With his Elven blood, he sensed the intense sorrow in her heart. He envied Legolas for having her love. But Eldarion had his own pride and his own morals. He walked toward a picture on the wall. It was of Arwen, his mother. Her brilliant blue eyes reflected light, even in the painting. He silently spoke to her. What should I do?

The painting, of course, didn’t reply. But he felt a stirring in his own heart. He loved Legolas in his own way. The Elf had been there when his parents had died. He had comforted him and spent many long nights telling him tales of his adventures with Aragorn and Arwen. Perhaps his love for Legolas was not the same as Silivrén’s, but his heart ached for the Elf just the same.

Eldarion turned back to face Silivrén. Her tears were like blood, seeping from an open wound that didn’t want to heal. He knew she’d never belong to him. “I cannot bear the suffering in your eyes, Silivrén.”

“What would you have me do?”

Silence stretched between them until she thought he would leave her question unanswered.

“I would have you be with the one you love,” he finally said.

Her sobs caught in her throat as she looked up at him.

His eyes found hers. “I will take you to the Grey Havens myself.”

Her tears renewed, yet now they were tears of joy and not sorrow. She ran and genuflected before his feet. “Thank you, my Lord. Thank you.”

“Do not thank me yet, Silivrén. Legolas has two days ahead of us and knowing the Elf as I do and the dexterity of his stallion, he would have ridden him hard.”

Silivrén jumped to her feet, her eyes already glowing with the prospect of seeing Legolas again. “But I have his stallion’s progeny.”

Eldarion gave her a nod. “Pack lightly. We will leave immediately.” And then she graced him with her smile. Her sudden enthusiasm stirred him into believing he was making the right decision. Indeed he envied Legolas and did not blame the Elf for falling in love with her.

As he watched her sprint around the room, looking for things she needed to take, there was a glow about her. It was almost Elven-like. He had never noticed it before and had only seen it on his mother, Arwen. But it was likely his eyes played tricks on him. Only an Elf or peredhil could possibly possess such a trait. (half-Elf)

Eldarion and Silivrén rode for three days. Even though the captain of his guard insisted on accompanying them on this mission of great importance, Eldarion had successfully convinced the man to remain at Minas Tirith. The road to the Grey Havens wasn’t a treacherous one and there were plenty of friendly folk along the way who would graciously open their doors to provide accommodations to the Gondorian king and his ward.

So many thoughts filled Silivrén’s head as they traveled onward. What if Legolas had already sailed? What if he had perished during the journey to the Grey Havens? What if the calling of the sea was far greater than his love for her? She quickly began to doubt herself and the purpose of her pursuit of him.

“You look troubled?” Eldarion asked her while they walked their horses, giving them a much needed rest.

“I fear I pursue him in vain. He may already have sailed.”

“If all else fails, my offer still stands, Silivrén. I know you will never love me as you love him, but I would still have you be queen at my side.”

Her eyes softened as she looked at him. “You are a great king and you should have a devoted queen at your side, one who give you her heart. I do not deserve you, Eldarion.”

He smiled and looked away. “I can still hope.”

Silivrén truly felt bad for him. Perhaps he felt something in his heart for her. But she would never feel love again. Not the way she had with Legolas. She wanted Legolas or no one at all. “What will you tell my father?”

Eldarion shrugged. “I will say that I reconsidered my proposal. He need not know the reason.”

“Our union would have joined our lands,” she reflected.

“Tis true, but in light of things…” his sentence trailed off.

Eldarion sighed heavily. Prior to their departure from Minas Tirith, Silivrén’s handmaiden had sought a brief counsel with him. She spoke of a secret no one else knew. Although she was sworn to never tell Silivrén, she left it to Eldarion to decide whether to inform the girl.

“Rhûn has no true heir,” he finally said.

Silivrén frowned and drew her horse to a stop. “What do you mean?”

Eldarion drew his own horse to a stop and turned him around to face her. “This may come as a shock to you, Silivrén, but you deserve to know the truth.”

The seriousness of his tone disturbed her. A thousand things rushed through her head. Was it about Legolas?

“The king of Rhûn is not your real father.”

Her eyes widened. Of all the things she had thought, this was not one of them. “I…I don’t understand.”

“Your handmaiden, Teress. She informed me before we left. Your real father was an Elf your mother loved.”

She swallowed the sudden lump in her throat and looked down. “Thavron…” The name Teress spoke of earlier. It had to be the Elf her mother loved. Despite the gravity of such an admission, deep in her heart she felt it was true.

“Rataman knows the truth. He kept it from you, fearing he would lose you.”

Tears welled in Silivrén’s eyes. “He lost me long before this and now I wash myself of such guilt.”

“Legolas must have known. Only a full-blooded Elf would sense your true heritage.”

“Why didn’t he tell me?”

“Perhaps he was threatened to swear his silence.” Eldarion turned his horse back toward the path. “Our horses have rested enough.”

They loped their horses onward.

Legolas watched the gulls flying around the cove and calling out to each other. Ever since he arrived two days before, he had hoped to finally feel the pull to sail west. All Elves felt it, especially in the Grey Havens, so close to the sea. But still…he sadly felt nothing.

It was not meant to be. He was meant to die on these shores and never set foot in Valinor.

His heart ached sickeningly and he reached up to rub his chest. The thought of purposely putting himself in danger…perhaps a quick trip to the Black Gates…to have an Orc put an end to his life…He seriously considered it.

“Legolas.”

He turned his head to the source calling his name. It was Círdan, the Elf who built the ships sailing west. There weren’t many Elves left on these shores. He wondered if Círdan would be the last to sail.

“Tis finished,” the shipwright softly said.

His boat was ready. There were no excuses left for him to hold to this land. Legolas stood up and began following the shipwright along the path beside the sea’s edge.

“I recall the time your father came to sail,” Círdan said with a smile. “I never would have thought he’d leave without his only son. He complained that you were always undermining him, but he knew you weren’t ready.”

I’m still not ready, Legolas wanted to respond, but he remained silent as they continued through various arches and stairways…until Legolas received his first glimpse of the boat that would sail him to Valinor. It wasn’t a very large boat, but it reminded him of a larger version of the boats he and the other members of the fellowship used as they left Lothlorien so long ago. He paused at the final archway.

Círdan noticed the Elven prince had stopped and he turned to him.

Legolas stared at the boat. “I…I need to see to Alagos.”

“Your stallion will be well-cared for,” replied the shipwright.

“My belongings…”

“…are already onboard,” Círdan finished.

There was no coming back. Once the boat left the Grey Havens, the Sundering Seas would carry it onward to Valinor. He didn’t have the ability to guide the boat in any way. What if he forgot something? What if he needed to come back? No, there was no coming back.

Legolas swallowed the lump in his throat as he nodded and moved forward again. He reached the plank resting between the pier and the boat and turned to the shipwright. “Thank you, Círdan.”

“Pass my greetings on to Thranduil.”

“I will.”

“Perhaps someday soon I will also be leaving these shores.”

Legolas turned to the plank and quickly crossed it before he changed his mind. He hopped into the boat and aided Círdan in removing the plank. Then he moved to the stern to untie the rope. He tossed it to the pier and moved to the bow. He no sooner untied the rope and tossed it to Círdan when he heard his name being called.

“Legolas! Wait!”

He rushed to the stern and looked toward the arches on the second level. Racing across them on Anorcelair was Silivrén. Close behind her was Eldarion. He wasn’t sure if she was being pursued by the young king, or if he followed to assure her safety.

The boat slowly edged away from the pier.

“No…” But he was powerless to stop the boat’s progress.

“Legolas!” she called out again.

Legolas watched with an open mouth as her mount hurdled over obstacles and jumped entire flights of stairs.

In the next instant, the mare reached the pier. Silivrén vaulted off her back and raced toward the edge. The distance between the pier and the boat increased.

Legolas moved to the edge of the boat and watched with growing concern. “Silivrén, no!”

Silivrén reached the edge of the pier and leapt off. Her arms flailed briefly before her hands miraculously caught the edge of the boat, while the rest of her fell into the water. She reached up as Legolas quickly pulled her up and over the side.

He stared at her in disbelief. “Silivrén…what’re you doing here?”

“I’m coming with you.”

“But…what about…”

Silivrén grinned and threw her arms around him. “I know about my real father. I know everything now.”

“Who told you?”

She turned her gaze toward the pier as the boat quickly distanced itself from it.

Legolas followed her gaze in time to see Eldarion’s horse reach the pier. The Gondorian king raised a hand in farewell. “He let you go?”

“He said he could not bear to see either of us suffering.”

He smiled as he returned his gaze to Eldarion and raised his own hand in farewell. Then he looked down at Silivrén and it seemed a miracle she had arrived when she did. If she had come any later…his boat would have been gone. “Do you realize what you are giving up, Erelei?”

“I care only for what I will lose if I do not go with you. I cannot live without you, Legolas.”

“We can never come back.”

“I know.” She frowned at him, wondering why he was trying to talk her out of going. “Do you not want me to go with you?”

Legolas placed his hands on her face and leaned in to tenderly kiss her lips. “I want you with me, my Erelei. Forever.”

The two shared several more kisses before turning toward the Grey Havens. The pier was still in sight and Eldarion waved once again. They waved back to him, knowing they would never see him or these lands again.

When the boat proceeded out of the cove and into open waters, Legolas led Silivrén to the back of the boat and they sat together on the floor, leaning against the side. He put his arm around her shoulder and she turned her face toward him with a smile. Nienna, the Vala, had been right. Silivrén was for him. He wanted no other. And now he looked forward to their new adventure together when they reached the shores of Valinor.

The End