Legolas Romance by Lalaith??

[Lalaith]

Oh yes. Your eyes do not deceive you! I have actually written a story starring the Prince of Mirkwood...
This may seem a bit surprising to those of you who have read my fanfics set in First and Second Age. I have tried to avoid writing about Legolas cos every second story on the Net seems to revolve around him. Hell, in 'Counsels in Rivendell' I purposely refrained from mentioning him by name....
I will try to explain why I have strayed from my favourites of Gil-galad and Glorfindel...

Reason 1: I wrote it for my friend's birthday and she is a Legolas fan.

Reason 2: I am known to have a slight weakness for the aforementioned wood Elf...
:blush:

Anyhoo, I thought I would share it with y'all. I had to set up a new thread cos it doesn't fit in with my other story threads....

[Lalaith]

The Tale of Sermë – An Elf of Mirkwood

Sermë passed quietly among the tall trees. Even in the darkness of the night, she knew her path well and did not need to feel her way along. She did not stumble or slip, knowing exactly where every root crossed the trail and where every stone lay. At last, she came out into a small clearing. Here the moon shone down brightly, the passage of its light unhindered by branches overhead. It cast an eerie glow over the surroundings, bathing everything in pale cold light.

“Ah!” she cried aloud when she found what she was looking for. Between the roots of a gnarled and ancient tree grew a cluster of tiny silvery leaves, which seemed to emit a light of their own. Pushing the hood of her dark cloak down, she hurried over to the spot, and knelt on the ground. She produced a small knife from her pack and attempted to uproot the plant. Much to her annoyance, the plant was hardy and strong; despite her best efforts she was making very slow progress. She cursed softly and redoubled her efforts. Her back stiffened when she heard a soft chuckle behind her; there was no mistaking those particular amused tones. Still trying to work the plant loose, she addressed the new arrival.

“I am so glad to be a source of amusement to you,” She peered over her shoulder in an attempt to discover her new companion’s whereabouts. He was, of course, nowhere to be seen. She sighed. “I do not know why you must show off your skills as a wood elf every time we meet.” She jumped when a hand appeared in front of her, holding out a long silver knife. Taking the proffered blade, she turned her attentions back to the stubborn plant. To her delight, she was able to cut through the roots without difficulty and the plant came away easily in her hand.

“You never complained when we were younger.” His voice sounded close to his ear and she smiled in the darkness, observing how maturity and responsibility had little effect on certain Elves.

Now his voice carried over from the far side of the clearing, “You used to find it most entertaining.”

Sermë remained silent, carefully wrapping the plant in a soft cloth and placing it into her pack, along with her own inadequate knife. All the while, she was listening intently for the sound of a light footstep or soft breath. Her muscles tensed and, gripping the silver knife, she suddenly spun around. Despite finding his own blade pressed against the skin of his throat, the Prince of Mirkwood smiled down at her, laughter in his eyes.

“Most impressive,” he murmured. “I see that your time spent among the healers has not diminished your own wood skills, my lady.” He gently removed the knife from her hand and, twirling it between his fingers, he fell silent for a while.

“It has been many years, my lady, since you and I played amongst the trees.”

“It has,” she agreed, wondering what had prompted this sudden contemplativeness. The Prince of Mirkwood was known to be careful and considerate in all his actions, but he was not prone to the silent ponderings indulged in by his father and brothers.

“Much has changed since then,” he continued, his brow furrowed with regret. “Darkness has fallen on this land. Evil creatures lurk on our very borders; spiders; orcs.”

“And now they have broken through.” Sermë said. She looked at him sharply. “The creature Gollum has not been found, has he?”

Legolas shook his head, his fair hair falling over his face. Bitterness at his failure was evident in his eyes. “We trailed him as far south as we dared but we drew too close to Dol Guldur. Ai, so many Elves were injured in the battle and the pursuit. We have desperate need of my father’s healers and their skills. Two of the creature’s guards were found, badly wounded and weak from blood loss. ”

Sermë nodded. “I know; that is why I sought this plant, celeb’las.” She patted the pack which hung at her side. “It is said to have some ability to staunch severe blood flow and to prevent infection.”

“Ah, I wondered why you were abroad so late. It is not safe, you know,” he added ruefully, sheathing his knife.

To his surprise, she laughed. “Dear prince, if it is not safe for me, it is certainly not safe for the Crown Prince to wander alone in these woods.”

“I trust I am capable of looking after myself,” he said heatedly, before colouring as he recalled that the maiden standing in front of him had successfully held a knife to his throat mere moments before. “In any case, allow me to escort you back to the palace.” He offered his arm with gallant flair and she took it gracefully.

They walked through the shadows silently, both of them alert and wary. Although she would never admit such a thing, Sermë was glad to have his company. There were many dangers skulking in the black places of Mirkwood and notwithstanding his earlier lapse, Legolas was a fearsome warrior with unmatched marksmanship. They came at length to the palace of Thranduil and a guard stepped forward to meet them.

“King Thranduil requests your presence in the council room, Prince Legolas,” he said courteously. Legolas nodded sharply.

“Very well.” He turned to Sermë. “Farewell, my lady. I trust we shall meet again soon.” He sighed. “I think we both have a busy night ahead of us.” His thoughts began to turn to the imminent meeting with his father, at which he would have to report the failed attempt to recapture Gollum.

She nodded in agreement. “I shall be in the Houses of Healing for much of the night, I suspect. That bedraggled creature and his accomplices have given us enough work to keep us busy until dawn. Orcs!” She wrinkled her nose at the thought of the foul creatures. Her facial expression greatly amused the Prince and with the sound of his laughter in her ears, she made her way to the Houses of Healing.



****

It was indeed near dawn when Sermë emerged from the Houses of Healing. She made her way through the labyrinthine passages of Thranduil’s passages, barely able to stifle her yawns. Gratefully, she stepped out into the open and was pleased to find that sunrise was fast approaching. Its red rays began to stretch out over the trees. She speculated as to how long it was until breakfast and, more importantly, how long until she could retire to bed. She rubbed the back of her neck, trying to massage some of the tension out of her tired muscles.

“You look weary.”

She started at the voice and turned around. The courtyard seemed empty. She could not help smiling. “Good prince, it is either too early or too late to play such games! I have not seen my bed this night; I am in no humour for hide and seek!”

Following the sound of Legolas’ laughter, she soon found him sitting in a stone seat beneath a roof of green branches. She sat down next to him and joined in his mirth until they lapsed into a comfortable stillness.

“I see that you too are tired,” she commented.

“Ay, my father’s council lasted the whole night. We shall send out some scouting parties but I fear that they will find no trace of that wretched creature. He is beyond our aid now. I admit, I felt sorry for him while he was under our care. We showed him great kindness; perhaps too much. I never expected gratitude, but I still find his level of cunning deceitfulness astonishing.”

Sermë listened sympathetically but could not refrain from yawning. Legolas turned to face her, raising an eyebrow. “I hope I am not boring you, my lady!” he said in a teasing voice.

She blushed slightly. “No, indeed not. It is tiredness rather than tedium. Forgive my rudeness!”

He smiled at her and moved slightly closer so that she could rest her head on his shoulder. With the weight of her head leaning against him, he allowed his mind to wander along the green paths of Elvish dreams. He ran once more amongst the trees of Greenwood the Great, the cries and laughter of Elflings ringing clearly in the calm air. When the sun had fully risen, he stirred himself and gently woke the maiden who slumbered so peacefully beside him.

[Lalaith]

“Would you care to join me for breakfast?” he asked cheerfully as she blinked in the sunlight and smoothed back her hair.

“I would be honoured to,” she replied, “Though I can scarce understand your happiness at this early hour. I, for one, require more than half an hour’s rest to be so merry in the morning.”

He laughed once more. “Why, it is a clear summer’s day and I mean to enjoy it!” His face grew darker. “In any case, I will not be in Mirkwood much longer so I should make the most of these fine days.” She looked at him with confusion and he explained. “I believe that I will have to travel to Rivendell shortly, especially if no trace is found of Gollum. Mithrandir charged us with his care and we have failed him. It is only right that I travel as my father’s messenger to inform both Mithrandir and the Lord Elrond of our failing.”

She reached to touch the back of his hand. “You must act as you see fit, good prince, but Mirkwood will be more melancholy in your absence.”

She looked at him with a hint of reproachful sorrow and he smiled sadly.

“Yet if I do not go, I fear that we may face greater evils. The shadow arises in the east and dark creatures stir in Dol Guldur. I have a duty to fulfil, both to my father and to his people and I mean to do my part.”

“I have come to expect no less from you, Prince Legolas Greenleaf,” she said gently.

They stood up to make their way to the dining hall and as the inhabitants of the palace began to stir around them, the thoughts of both Elf-prince and Elf-maiden turned towards the encroaching threat of darkness. Sermë shivered involuntarily and Legolas grasped her hand. “Do not fear,” he whispered. “We cannot know what lies ahead but we find our solace in that which we love and we draw our strength from our desire to protect it.”

Finding comfort in his words, her mood lightened considerably. “Might I enquire as to how you plan to spend your final days in Mirkwood?”

“My father would have me pour over maps and strategise and theorise with his counsellors until day’s light has faded,” he said, sounding less than enthralled at the prospect of spending days in his father’s dark council room.

“And your own will?”

“I mean to spend some time hunting with my brothers,” he said, contemplating his desires.

“And no doubt you will use the opportunity to pass on some sage brotherly advice?” she asked amusedly.

He did not attempt to deny it for it was well known that he took his role as eldest son of the king very seriously and often chastised his brothers when he felt that their father had been too lenient. “Ah, it seems you know me too well, my lady. I also intend to enjoy the company of my dearest friends.” He paused for effect. “And perhaps I might also be permitted to wait on you?”

She aimed a playful blow in his direction as they walked along the stone passageway to the hall. “Implying, good prince, that I am not one of your dearest friends?”

He chuckled. “I would not dare suggest such a thing, my lady!” Suddenly he grabbed hold of her arm and looking around quickly, he pulled her into a small alcove, and drew the heavy velvet curtain, concealing them from view. He motioned to her to remain silent and they stood close together as Thranduil, King of Mirkwood, swept along the corridor, accompanied by an entourage of lords-in-waiting.

“I should have thought that you were too old to hide from your father!” she whispered with amusement.

“I do not intend to make it easy for him to ensnare me! If he sees me unoccupied, he will demand that I join his counsellors!” he whispered back, watching his father’s progress through a gap in the curtains. To his annoyance, Thranduil had stopped to speak with a couple of guards a few feet from their hiding place.

“I think, good prince, that it would turn out worse for you if he found you closeted in an alcove with a lady of the court!” Sermë fought against the laughter that threatened to betray their whereabouts. She covered her mouth with her hand in an effort to stifle the sound and her shoulders shook under the strain. Legolas looked down at her with vexed confusion. Quite clearly, she did not understand the gravity of the situation if he was caught by his father. He would have to listen to Thranduil’s advice and counsels which, while undeniably worthy, generally proved to be most time-consuming. Sermë glanced up at him and their eyes met. An awkward silence fell when they both realised that they were standing virtually nose to nose in the tight alcove. For a few heart-pounding moments, neither dared breathe and neither knew where to look. Sermë settled for the examination of the hem of her skirt, while Legolas affected interest in an upper corner of the alcove. At last, Thranduil’s entourage could be heard moving away. They waited for a minute to ensure that the passageway was once more deserted. Legolas pulled back the curtain and, with heightened colour, the two Elves made their way to the dining hall.

[Lalaith]

Legolas’ imminent departure for Rivendell was announced that day. In seven days, he would leave Mirkwood with a small number of bodyguards to bear tidings and counsel to the Lord Elrond. The first two days, to his disgust, were spent studying maps and receiving reports from scouts. In truth, he knew that these were necessary tasks but he had rather hoped to be excused from such dealings, especially considering that his father’s most senior counsellor was to accompany him to Rivendell.

The next four days were spent abroad in the kingdom with his younger brothers. They received his advice with much the same enthusiasm as he received that of their father, but the five sons of Thranduil found time to indulge in their favourite sport of hunting. There was great celebration at their safe return and even greater celebration when it was found that the expedition had been most successful; each son had brought home a deer. The meat for Legolas’ farewell feast, Sermë observed privately. She wondered how many Legolas had shot for it was known that he refused to take the credit for his own achievements, insisting that his brothers share in his success. Sermë watched as the fair Elf-princes greeted their father and she was about to turn away when Legolas caught her eye. Having taken leave of his father, he made his way over to where she stood.

“It seems that my time here is almost at an end,” he commented regretfully, “for tomorrow I must leave. Yet perhaps I might wait on you for a couple of hours ere this evening’s feast?”

She nodded, glad that he wished to spend time with her before his departure.

“When you and your brothers returned, I was just about to remove to the banks of Nen Galen.”

“It is still your favourite retreat then?” he asked, referring to times long past, when Sermë could often be found singing by the banks of the small stream. He hesitated for a moment before continuing. “Perhaps I might accompany you there?”

“Of course, I would be glad of your company,” she said, her face lighting up with joy. “Although I should hate to drag you away from your duties,” she added in a teasing tone. “I am sure I heard your father mention that he had a few more messages for you.”

“Do not joke, my lady! I foresee a sleepless night tonight while my father delivers his final words of advice.” Legolas frowned. “Word has been sent from Rivendell that there is to be a council and it seems that the road to Imladris of old is fraught with danger.”

“You do not need to leave the kingdom to face danger.”

The prince sighed. “Ay, that is all too true, my lady.” A brooding silence fell over them, broken occasionally by a brief snatch of birdsong, as they made their way to the swift-running stream of Nen Galen. They sat comfortably at the river bank, leaning against a tree-trunk while their bare feet hung in the water.

“I wonder where my path will take me,” murmured Legolas. Sermë remained silent, shielding her eyes against the glare of the setting sun on the stream. The Prince of Mirkwood idly skimmed a stone across the water’s surface. “War will come upon his land; I can feel it.”

“But your travels will take you far from Mirkwood,” Sermë said thoughtfully before turning to him and speaking earnestly. “You feel guilty to be leaving your people in such uncertain times.” He looked at her, surprised at her perceptiveness. She shook her head. “Do not take such troubles upon yourself. Your father and brothers remain; they will protect us. Your path, I think, may prove more important; not just for the good of the woodland Elves, but for the free people of Middle Earth. This strange new evil will affect us all. I hope that its defeat is not beyond us.”

“Ay, my lady, I share in that hope. Do you not recall the night that Gollum escaped?”

“Yes, it was the blackest night of the summer; moonless and starless.”

“Most unnatural,” he agreed. “Something dark and powerful sets itself against us. I do not know what I can offer, but I am determined to take part. After our failure, I would see our people redeemed.”

“Perhaps your name will go down in song!” she laughed, in an effort to raise his spirits. “Legolas Greenleaf, an Elven prince with deadly aim!”

He raised a half-smile. “I hope that is not all that can be said about me!”

She curled her upper lip into a mocking expression. “Why, good prince, do you expect me to list all your qualities? For if I do, I fear that you will require a stronger horse to bear the weight of your rapidly swelling head!”

At this, he had to laugh. When his mirth subsided, he looked at her sideways. “Out of curiosity, my lady, what qualities did you have in mind?”

She pretended to think deeply. “Well, a great many of the young ladies of the court praise you as the fairest Elf-prince to walk neath the trees of Greenwood.” She snorted with laughter when the tips of his ears turned pink with embarrassment before adding hastily. “But you have other strong points, I am sure! None can fault your courage. You have inherited much of your father’s wisdom and your mother’s kindness. Yes, I think that is it, your generous spirit. That is what puts you apart. I have never heard of you acting selfishly, without thought for others.” Now Legolas was blushing deeply and much to Sermë’s surprise, he lifted her hand in his and kissed it gently.

“And you, my lady, have the sweetest tongue of all the Elves of Mirkwood. I think your encouraging words have done far more for my mood than my father’s counsels, wise though he is.” He raised a hand to her cheek. “Please do not blush, my lady, for I have spoken the truth and,” he added hastily, “it would not do for us to arrive red-faced in the feast hall for the second time in a week!”

They rose from their comfortable perch and slowly walked back to the palace, the chill night air extinguishing the glow in their cheeks. Just as they were about to enter the feast hall, Sermë turned to him. “I am aware, Prince Legolas, that there is more to you than finely honed archery skills but tell me, in truth; how many of the deer brought home by you and your brothers did you personally shoot?”

He grinned. “Only four this time! It seems that Annûnion’s shooting skills have improved.” He offered her his arm, and they entered the great feast hall of Thranduil looking forward to an evening of fine food and music.


****

At dawn the following morning, the eldest Prince of Mirkwood prepared to bid his family farewell. The previous evening’s festivities had been most enjoyable and his was sorry to be leaving such merriment behind. He smiled to himself when he recalled the songs and dancing that had lasted late into the night. He was placing scrolls into his pack when he heard a sweet voice behind him causing him to jump and drop some of the scrolls, which rolled across the floor.

“The time for parting has arrived, good prince.”

He whirled around, but the hall was empty. His father, brothers and the rest of the household were waiting in the courtyard for him. Soft laughter reached his ears and he smiled. Holding his hands up in a display of surrender, he moved into the middle of the hall. Sermë stepped out from behind a pillar.

“I suppose I deserved that,” he said.

“Most certainly,” she replied. “I cannot count the number of times you have crept up on me soundlessly, cruelly startling me!”

She watched while he picked up the scrolls, making no move to help him. He tried to scowl at her but could not prevent the smile that crept across his face.

“I am glad we have this moment alone,” he said. Her eyebrows shot up as she attempted to discern his meaning. He reached into his tunic pocket and produced a small velvet pouch. “Perhaps you would do me the honour of looking after this until I return.”

She stood frozen. He laughed softly and opened the pouch, taking out a delicate chain. “It was my mother’s,” he whispered. “Mithril. One of the few great achievements of the Children of Aulë.” He carefully fastened it around her neck, stealing a kiss as he did so. The kiss seemed to kindle something within Sermë and she managed to recover her power of speech. “I cannot possibly accept such a thing! It is too precious!”

“Indeed?” he asked. “Certainly no more precious than she who wears it. Sermë, I do not ask for promises or demands. It is a gift, bestowed with love and hope; my love for you and the hope that you will remember me by it.”

“My prince, I would remember you without any such aid!”

“Better and better,” he murmured playfully and kissed her quickly again before she had time to protest. He stood back and looked at her closely. He nodded with satisfaction. “Excellent. When dark times trouble me, I can think of this moment and remember why I have consented to go on this journey.”

“We cannot know what lies ahead but we find our solace in that which we love and we draw our strength from our desire to protect it,” whispered Sermë as she reached out a trembling hand to touch his face.

He smiled and nodded, before catching hold of her hand and kissing it gently. “I have never spoken truer words.” He clasped her hand to his heart for a moment and then sighed. “Farewell, my lady. Let us hope that the Elven prince with the deadly aim might do some good!” With those words, he turned and strode from the hall leaving her watching after him.

Placing her hand on the chain at her throat, Sermë whispered after him, “Farewell, dear prince. My heart goes with you.”

[Bess the Bard]

Lalaith, this was sweet and charming. Written with a light touch and it didn't take itself too seriously. But I like Serme as much as any Lego-girl I've read about and more than most. I hope your friend enjoyed her present.

[Lalaith]

Thanks for taking the time to read this, Bess - and yeah, my friend enjoyed it basically cos it's light-hearted and Legolas actually has a sense of humour in it!!;)

think I have reached my legolas fanfiction threshold though!! But who knows?? Maybe I'll embark on a Lego-epic of Nindorien-Gil-galad proportions!! (somehow, I doubt it! lol)

[Lady Melody]

:cool:

Yeah, you've gotten yourself another fan. *cough*

I'll be a very horrible person until you finish this, so please humour me! roflmao

[PunkRock12]

Is this the end of the story? If it is poop! I comment of your writing abilities. I have written tones of stories (never got to finish one always started on another one.) Like your stories surching for others!
:stomper: Luthien :stomper:

[Tirithel]

It is sad that we don't get to see many sides of characters in the books or the movies. When you get so involved in a story, you begin to "know" the characters and wish for depictions other than the hopeless, war-torn sides of them. I do appreciate your light-hearted side of Leggy and love your story; but you're breaking a lot of hearts introducing the possibility that Legolas has a girlfriend waiting back home! mecry lol :boohoo:

[Lalaith]

Thank you all for your kind comments - but I hate having to break this to you! This is all I intend to write of this story!

It was written, as I have explained, for my friend's birthday, and is meant to exist just as it is - after all, we know what happens to Legolas from here on out!!

I am sorry!

[PunkRock12]

That is fine with me! But it was a very good Story!
:stomper: ~Miss Punk Rock~