Beleglotiel
April 17th,2003, 03:09 AM
Aww, thanks, well I'll see if I can :thumbs:
Here's s'more :grin:
Chapter 26
A simple query
A week flew by and Legolindë’s strength increased and her injuries healed. She was not at her full strength, however. There were times when she would go on walks through the lovely gardens of Mirkwood to regain her strength, with Eithor as her escort. They talked about many things. Eithor would affectionately kiss her hand now and then, or give her a gentle kiss on the cheek or lips. Legolindë welcomed these displays of affection with open arms. She loved Eithor and Eithor loved her; this they both knew without question. No one, save Imbethoiniel, knew of their love. It was a surprise to them that nobody had seen them in the gardens. In the gardens, where flowers bloomed, their love bloomed as well. In addition to walks, they would go riding together, leaving the trouble the orcs had laid on Middle-Earth behind.
King Thranduil was making preparations to send word to all places in Middle-Earth. All must be told of the danger that they faced. He summoned the groups of soldiers he knew had quick horses so that the messages could be delivered swiftly. Eithor knew he would be called upon to go on one of these missions; it was merely a matter of time before Thranduil got around to asking him. But first, there was something he needed to ask Thranduil.
It was a beautiful afternoon that day and Eithor stepped into Legolindë’s room quickly. She was practicing with her sword, make believing an invisible opponent.
“Is my swordsmanship getting better?” she asked stopping momentarily as Eithor entered.
“You should not be practicing. Legolindë, you know better. You’re not at one hundred percent,” Eithor smirked slightly, “you might hurt yourself,” he winked at her and took the blade from her.
“If the only reason you came her was to lecture me, then you can leave the same way you came in,” Legolindë pretended to be angry and turned her back to him. Eithor smiled and grabbed the sheathe that was propped up against one of the posts of the bed, slid the sword into it, and laid it on the bed. He came up behind her and wrapped her in his arms.
“No, actually, that’s not why I came,” he began, “I came to ask you where your grandfather was. I already looked in the Great Hall,” Legolindë stroked one of his hands that lay across her shoulder.
“I’d imagine that he’s in his room. That would be the obvious place,” she teased. Eithor grinned.
“Now, why didn’t I think of that?” Legolindë opened her mouth to say something but Eithor stopped her, “Don’t answer that,” she smiled playfully.
“Why do you want to know where Grandfather is?” questioned Legolindë.
“I need to ask him something,” Eithor turned to leave and was halfway out the door when he stopped and looked back, “One more thing. Meet me at the fountain in the back in about five to ten minutes,” Legolindë nodded curiously as he left her room.
Eithor walked down the long hall until he came to the King and Queen’s bedroom. He knocked boldly.
“Come in,” answered a voice on the other side of the door. Eithor turned the knob and entered the ornamented room. There was a large shelf full of books of lore and history and many appealing decorations that caught Eithor’s eye. Thranduil sat near the window, using the rays of the sun for a suitable reading light. He looked up and his serious face brightened as he saw Eithor coming in, “Ah! Eithor, what a pleasure!” he greeted, “Come, have a seat,” Thranduil motioned to two chairs that stood on opposite sides of a small, circular, cream-colored table. The King had a little store of wine and goblets in his room for his pleasure and took two highly decorated goblets and poured into them a crimson wine. With the goblets in hand, he sat in the chair across from Eithor and presented him with one of the glasses. Eithor received it with thanks and took a modest sip. “Eithor, I’m glad you’re here. I was meaning to speak with you,” began King Thranduil, “I need a strong, brave, dependable man with a swift horse to venture to a few Dwarven cities. You have all of those things, so I must ask you if you would be willing to do this for me,” Eithor’s hopes crumbled before him. But there was still a way.
“Of course, Highness, but when would I leave?” he asked.
“As soon as possible. Preferably tomorrow or the day after, at the latest,” informed the King. Eithor knew he did not do it on purpose, but Thranduil had dashed his plans. His heart sank to the bottom of his stomach. “Now what was it you came to see me for,” continued Thranduil.
“Uh…it’s not important,” Eithor faltered.
“Nonsense, of course it is! There is so much that you have done for me. If there is anything you would have me do, I would gladly do it for you.” Eithor’s eyes drifted to the door. He mustered up all his courage; this was something that he knew he must do. He stared into the eyes of the King.
“Would you grant me your granddaughter’s hand in marriage?”
Next chapter coming soon……………
Here's s'more :grin:
Chapter 26
A simple query
A week flew by and Legolindë’s strength increased and her injuries healed. She was not at her full strength, however. There were times when she would go on walks through the lovely gardens of Mirkwood to regain her strength, with Eithor as her escort. They talked about many things. Eithor would affectionately kiss her hand now and then, or give her a gentle kiss on the cheek or lips. Legolindë welcomed these displays of affection with open arms. She loved Eithor and Eithor loved her; this they both knew without question. No one, save Imbethoiniel, knew of their love. It was a surprise to them that nobody had seen them in the gardens. In the gardens, where flowers bloomed, their love bloomed as well. In addition to walks, they would go riding together, leaving the trouble the orcs had laid on Middle-Earth behind.
King Thranduil was making preparations to send word to all places in Middle-Earth. All must be told of the danger that they faced. He summoned the groups of soldiers he knew had quick horses so that the messages could be delivered swiftly. Eithor knew he would be called upon to go on one of these missions; it was merely a matter of time before Thranduil got around to asking him. But first, there was something he needed to ask Thranduil.
It was a beautiful afternoon that day and Eithor stepped into Legolindë’s room quickly. She was practicing with her sword, make believing an invisible opponent.
“Is my swordsmanship getting better?” she asked stopping momentarily as Eithor entered.
“You should not be practicing. Legolindë, you know better. You’re not at one hundred percent,” Eithor smirked slightly, “you might hurt yourself,” he winked at her and took the blade from her.
“If the only reason you came her was to lecture me, then you can leave the same way you came in,” Legolindë pretended to be angry and turned her back to him. Eithor smiled and grabbed the sheathe that was propped up against one of the posts of the bed, slid the sword into it, and laid it on the bed. He came up behind her and wrapped her in his arms.
“No, actually, that’s not why I came,” he began, “I came to ask you where your grandfather was. I already looked in the Great Hall,” Legolindë stroked one of his hands that lay across her shoulder.
“I’d imagine that he’s in his room. That would be the obvious place,” she teased. Eithor grinned.
“Now, why didn’t I think of that?” Legolindë opened her mouth to say something but Eithor stopped her, “Don’t answer that,” she smiled playfully.
“Why do you want to know where Grandfather is?” questioned Legolindë.
“I need to ask him something,” Eithor turned to leave and was halfway out the door when he stopped and looked back, “One more thing. Meet me at the fountain in the back in about five to ten minutes,” Legolindë nodded curiously as he left her room.
Eithor walked down the long hall until he came to the King and Queen’s bedroom. He knocked boldly.
“Come in,” answered a voice on the other side of the door. Eithor turned the knob and entered the ornamented room. There was a large shelf full of books of lore and history and many appealing decorations that caught Eithor’s eye. Thranduil sat near the window, using the rays of the sun for a suitable reading light. He looked up and his serious face brightened as he saw Eithor coming in, “Ah! Eithor, what a pleasure!” he greeted, “Come, have a seat,” Thranduil motioned to two chairs that stood on opposite sides of a small, circular, cream-colored table. The King had a little store of wine and goblets in his room for his pleasure and took two highly decorated goblets and poured into them a crimson wine. With the goblets in hand, he sat in the chair across from Eithor and presented him with one of the glasses. Eithor received it with thanks and took a modest sip. “Eithor, I’m glad you’re here. I was meaning to speak with you,” began King Thranduil, “I need a strong, brave, dependable man with a swift horse to venture to a few Dwarven cities. You have all of those things, so I must ask you if you would be willing to do this for me,” Eithor’s hopes crumbled before him. But there was still a way.
“Of course, Highness, but when would I leave?” he asked.
“As soon as possible. Preferably tomorrow or the day after, at the latest,” informed the King. Eithor knew he did not do it on purpose, but Thranduil had dashed his plans. His heart sank to the bottom of his stomach. “Now what was it you came to see me for,” continued Thranduil.
“Uh…it’s not important,” Eithor faltered.
“Nonsense, of course it is! There is so much that you have done for me. If there is anything you would have me do, I would gladly do it for you.” Eithor’s eyes drifted to the door. He mustered up all his courage; this was something that he knew he must do. He stared into the eyes of the King.
“Would you grant me your granddaughter’s hand in marriage?”
Next chapter coming soon……………