Title: A choice of four
Author: Maeglin Yedi ([email protected])
Website: http://forever-rebel.net/maeglinyedi/
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A choice of four 3
By Maeglin Yedi
Legolas’ pov
I can feel his eyes on my back as I ride my horse to the land of men. He watches me. And I do not know why. I have never met him before yesterday but through everything Tannil has told me about him I feel like I already know him.
I turn my head around, trying to appear as if I want to focus on the Elves that ride behind him but I watch him. I try to see a reason in his eyes. But he keeps his emotions well hidden behind a mask of indifference.
Only for a second I think I see something sparkle in his light blue eyes. I could be mistaken but it reminds me of lust.
I turn my head back and look upon the hills that lie before us. Lust. That does not surprise me. After all, he is a human. And humans have a tendency to fall victim to feelings of lust.
I am an Elf. We have all sorts of emotions, most we feel deeper than humans will ever do, but we rarely fall victim to lust. At least, I never have.
Oh yes, I have shared intimate moments with others, both male and female Elves, but they were never about lust, let alone love. It was about release while battling an enemy or about comfort when you needed to forget for a moment. But never about lust. And certainly never about love.
I do love others. My father, dearly. My family and friends in Mirkwood. Lord Elrond. Elladan and Elrohir. Arwen and of course my dear Tallin.
I smile as I remember the summers we all spend together in either Rivendell or Mirkwood. The times when our days were filled with innocent archery practice and swimming in one of the many rivers of Rivendell. And of course the many times when Elladan, Elrohir and myself would play practical jokes on the two sisters.
Alas, those times ended when we all grew up and our fathers expected us to become adult members of our Elven societies. I went to battle often and was forced to leave those feelings of innocence behind me. But the memory is always a comfortable one and has helped me battle my own feelings of loneliness and despair many times when I fought against enemies that threatened our kind.
I look at Tannil and cannot get past the fact that she seems the only one who still possesses that very innocence we all shared so many summers long ago.
Do not get me wrong, Tannil is not weak or inexperienced in life. She is one of the wisest Elves I know because she spends most of her time with her face buried in books. But I guess that one could call her innocent or even naive. She is a dreamer. Always has been. When we would practice archery or battle against each other with our Elven Blades knowing that this practice might one day save our lives in battle, she would get distracted so quickly.
She can handle a bow and she can handle Elven Blades, but her heart is not in it. Weapons are not her passion. Her interest lies in knowledge, in all the life that surrounds her. She has a passion for life that probably exceeds my passion for my bow.
But what worries me right now is the part of her that truly is innocent. She has never known the touch of a man. The only man she would give herself to is not interested in her and does not love her in the way she wants to be loved.
I remember the times when we would lie together next to the river under the warm sun and she would ask me questions about bedding another person. I would tell her about the pleasures of the body and she would blush and say that her greatest desire would be Aragorn touching her in such way.
But life has taken a different turn right now. Because what will happen to her if the Steward of Gondor would choose her? It scares me to think that perhaps she would loose that innocence that still shines in her whole form. A man that would choose her as his wife would surely want to take her physical purity away and it worries me deeply what this would mean for this Elven Lady.
“Legolas, have you ever met the Steward of Gondor?” Tannil asks me as we ride together, leaving the group existing of our fathers, our Elven guards and the Ranger behind us.
“Nay, I have not. But my father has,” I answer her and can’t stop thinking about the possible consequences of this agreement for her.
“I wonder what he will be like,” she says softly.
“I have heard that he is a noble man. A great warrior and an honorable and passionate defender of his people,” I tell her as I recall the words my father used when he described this man.
But I do not tell her about the other words I have heard about this man. That his heart only goes out to battle and that his only interests are protecting his land and its people. And that he is forced into this agreement in the same way we are, by his father.
I feel insecure about this mission we have set out on. Because this is different from anything I have ever done before. I have always relied on my bow. I use it as an anchor in my life. Whatever situation I land in, my bow is always at my side and the arrows that I shoot with it protect me wherever I go.
But I know now that my trusted bow will not help me this time. I must think of other things I can use to win this battle. To make sure that the Steward of Gondor will choose me over the Elven Lady.
I know that a life besides a man will not be the end of me. We share a passion for battle so perhaps we could fight together. Although I would rather be free to choose whomever I want to wed, the thought of spending time with an honorable warrior is not the worst thing I can imagine happening to me.
I will have to consider other options right now. My bow will not be there for me this time. I must use the ways of men to my advantage. And I think that the man who is riding behind me and who keeps his eyes on me has given me the answer already.
Lust.
TBC in Part 4