Title: Legolas’s Song Author: Lady Morfiwen/ ChibiMelody Disclaimer: I don’t own anything of Tolkien’s except my style of writing, my plot and the leading lady…thanks. Ratings: Cleans better than most disinfectants (U) Feedback: Azira86@hotmail.com Summary: A little suggestion on what Legolas and Gimli might have been doing during their stay in Lothlorien. Note: I hope that you guys will enjoy reading my fanfic just as much as I enjoyed reading others’. All feedbacks, be they positive or negative are much appreciated. When the fellowship came upon Lothlorien; Legolas, son of Thranduil wandered in the morn after he had eaten his breakfast. Although his face was as fair and handsome as always, the sorrow was apparent in his eyes, and his _expression. His sleep was disturbed, as his companions too have felt the great loss that befallen them. Gandalf had fallen into the darkness! He walked amongst the elves of Lothlorien, his kin, and learned much of them, and they learned much of his own homeland. It was fate that led him one day in the blissful days in Lothlorien that he wandered afar from the talans and the rest of his fellowship, His feet led him to follow a path that seems quite well-worn but ill-used, and yet well-tended but left wild. Strange was the path, since it was made so that one would think that it was of great importance. His curiosity stirred, he followed the path. Then he heard the sound of a voice singing beautifully yet sad was the words. It was sung in a way that even the lament for Gandalf could not meet. Ai, fair is Lorien, land under the grace of my mother, Unchanged and unstained, blessed by the Valars, Evil have been seen here, and driven away, Cheery are the days, yet sorrow it still bears, In the earth that sobs, the waters still shed tears, and the sky that bleed, Ai, Lorien, the land of things unchanged, Blessed peace and cursed grief, I can stay here no longer…the land of which I was born… Legolas could almost see the tears of whoever who sang it flowing down her face, within his mind. His heart was curious now more than ever, and he followed it, and further he went, and his elven eyes caught sight of a figure hooded and clad in white and silver. Even from behind, he saw her hand was slightly lifted to her face, where a Nightingale perched and sang with her. The sound of the waterfall falling nearby, where a rainbow formed seemed to Legolas a scene made lovingly and with great care onto paintings and tapestries of old. The Nightingale suddenly stopped short of the tune, and cried out instead in warning. The elf-maiden, unmoved, did not turn but merely softly said; “Who goes there, if it is Losril, early is the hour that you come, it seemed but a moment that you set me here.” Her head still faced the singing bird, but perhaps she was seeking him elsewhere. “Nay, I am Legolas, son of Thranduil and I am a guest. Forgive me for disturbing your peace, my lady. I heard your singing and followed the sound. May you turn to me so that I may look upon your fair face?” Legolas replied courteously. The maiden seemed surprised, if the sudden small jolt of her shoulders was any indication. “Never have our kin from afar journeyed here for long, I have been told. What brings you here? Oh, please forgive me for my lack of courtesy. Please be seated upon here. The grass is green and clean, as no foul beasts, much less foul folk has defiled this place yet. And kissing her bird farewell, she threw her hood down and turned to face him, Legolas was entranced and in awe, as much beauty was graced upon her. Her skin was porcelain white, as translucent as Galadriel, and her hair a mix or silver and gold. Equal to Lady Arwen was she, and immediately he cried; “Nimrodel!” She laughed, and her voice was like the silvery sound of music ringing in his ears. “Why do you call me by that name?” Legolas did not answer, as he noticed and searched her face, because it seemed strange to him that the maiden’s eyes, although glorious blue, as blue as the sky was dimmed but not only her sadness, but of a darkness more profound. “Lady, could you not see me in front of you, gazing down upon your lovely face?” The sad maiden’s that was smiling a moment ago suddenly saddened greatly again, and he rued himself for asking the question. “Galadhelen is my name,” she said softly. “I was taken in when I was but a child, and many of my kin, including my sire and mother was slain by orcs. They smote my eyes with fire, and I was blind since. Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel, may the Valars bless them had taken me into their house, and ere then till now I dwell still in fair Lorien.” Angered was he, and hatrad for the orcs roused even further his already stirred hatrad for those foul creatures. “By my own life would I go to the deepest o the deeps and avenge you, my lady!” he announced gallantly to her. “Brave you may be, with a fire within to match, but alas, I must leave, I believe it is time,” much to Legolas’s surprise, he looked upon the sky and found her words be true. “You must be wise indeed, to tell the time in the darkness,” said Legolas. “Nay, do you not hear nor smell and feel the changes of time to the Earth, air and rivers? Furthermore, the birds tell me a great deal, and Losril ever seeks only to make sure that I am more than well-tended to,” she explained to him in her soft, musical voice. “You have not answered my question,” she reminded him. “In due time,” laughed Legolas, and he led her asunder to the feasting hall. It was the day that the Fellowship is to depart to continue with their quest. Legolas found himself loathing to leave, but he knew very well the urgency of it. He found himself somehow wishing to leave. Memories of days spent in Lothlorien passed swiftly within his mind. It was for Galadhelen had he made peace at last with the dwarf, and he had met her. Legolas and Gimli had jested over the beauty of Lady Galadriel and of Galadhelen, but laughingly she had replied, quite modestly, that however one appearance may be deceiving, Lady Galadriel’s will always be true, and that none can rival her wisdom and beauty from within. Even Legolas could not contest to that, as she had reminded all of them herself, she is but a young elf, one of the newborns in the reckonings of the elves. Rarely have any child blessed any elves homes and graced its walls. The time has pass for separation, and Legolas held Galadhelen’s hands, and softly whispered in her ear; “I will return for you.” Her lovely face was deeply troubled. “I promise, as I pledge my love upon you.” “Nay, Legolas… you will not find me, your errand is urgent, they say, and so I will not ask you to stay. But remember this, beloved, that someday we shall be reunited again, but not here, in Middle Earth,” her head was bowed low. Legolas tipped her face gently to face him, and kissed her gently on her lips. “You are sailing over the seas?” “There are no cure for blindness here, Legolas, ere only the Valars could heal them, if any hope is there. I stayed here this long, as long as the Lady stays. When she leaves, I will go with her. She is a mother to me, and I could not leave her.” “We shall meet again, Legolas son of Thranduil,” she held her tears as bravely as she could, but the glistening of the tears held in her eyes could be seen, and Legolas knew that this would be the most painful thing he has done in his life. They kissed for one last time, and he turned to leave. When he had sailed upon one of the boats, he saw her standing on the white bridge, staring at nothing but darkness, with tears flowing from her eyes. He turned from the sight, and never looked back. “What brings your mind afar, Legolas?” asked Elessar in the city of Minas Trith. “Your presence is only in body, yet where have your mind wandered?” “A matter of small concern of yours, Aragorn,” his _expression was still of one deep in thought. “I came as I have given thought to your desire to dwell with other elves in Ithilien, Legolas. I believe it is wise for the Eldar to dwell there, and I will aid you and your people in your building of your city, in whatever way we could,” he offered generously. “I am great in your debt then.” Elessar laughed at his companion. “Nay, what are friends who does not help another when in need, we have relied on each other then, we could continue this friendship until you chose to leave to Valinor,” he replied with honour, and Legolas knew that he was quite making a pledge to him. “And I, to you.” Silence was around them for a moment. “Would you not tell me of your thoughts, Legolas? You seem to hide a great burden.” “Wise is your heart and eyes, my friend,” and then he began to sing. Light was her feet, where flowers sprung, Long was her hair, wrought of mithril and gold, Fair was her face, her kindness shone, Yet dark was her glorious eyes, blue as the sky. Galadhelen…Ai, maiden fair! She awaits me in the Blessed Realm! “Is it true, that your heart was ensnared?” Elessar asked with mirth and yet great concern in his eyes. “I have not heard yet this Lay, but I have heard of an elf-maiden befitting your song.” “The one that I have given my heart has crossed the Great Sea,” replied Legolas. Elessar replied nothing but left Legolas to his own thoughts, and his mind too wandered far, as Legolas sang softly again, the song he had sung.