TITLE: ELLIE'S CHOICE  

AUTHOR: A.K.  

RATING: NC-17 (or R) for sexuality (but not until Chapter 6)  

DISCLAIMER: I own my original characters Elanae and Jamie, the Ilissans, and 
Ravenwood and Ravenskeep. Everything else belongs to Tolkien.  

FEEDBACK: Most welcome (akolluri@msn.com)! But please be kind--this is my 
first ever fanfiction. Also, I am undecided as to whether or not Ellie and Legolas 
will have a future together (beyond another love scene that I have yet to write). 
Your input regarding this would be greatly appreciated, since I have now 
completed about 2/3 of the story. Thank you!  
 
 
CHAPTER ONE: The Watcher 

The boy had never seen an Elf before and was curious. Crouching low in the 
bushes just a few feet from the clearing where the Elf and his companions had 
camped the night before, the boy watched and was so perfectly still and silent 
that even keen Elven ears could not detect his presence.  

The boy had approached the camp just before sunrise, drawn by the light of the 
campfire. Everyone was lying down seemingly asleep, except for a dwarf who sat 
leaning against a tree. It must have been his turn at watch, but he was half-
asleep himself in the pre-dawn hour, his heavy head repeatedly nodding down 
toward his chest. He did not hear the boy approach and settle down in the 
bushes. Of course, the boy had spent the last three months living in the woods, 
and most of his life before then playing in them, so he walked with the quiet step 
of a born woodsman. 

It was an unusual gathering. In addition to the dwarf and the Elf, who slept with 
his eyes wide open (it took several minutes for the boy to realize that he was in 
fact asleep), there were four little men who at first glance appeared to be 
children until he noticed their huge hairy feet (hobbits then—he had heard of 
such beings before), and three full-sized men, one of them much older than the 
others with a long gray beard and gray clothing. A small pony was tethered to a 
nearby tree.  

Shortly after dawn, the nine companions awoke, and moments after that 
everyone but the Elf walked off into the trees on the other side of the clearing. 
The boy knew there was a small stream there and assumed that that is where 
they were headed. The Elf stood up, and the boy was awed to see just how tall 
and slender he was. He was certainly taller than any man he had ever known, 
but despite his height, he moved with the fluid grace of a cat. His hair was long, 
of an unusually silky texture, and was so pale as to appear almost white in the 
early morning light. He wore it pulled back from his fair face by three braids, 
revealing delicate pointed ears. The ears were what had first alerted the boy that 
the tall stranger was an Elf, and not a man.  

After his companions left, the Elf picked up the bow and quiver that had been 
beside him as he slept, and walked toward the boy’s hiding place. For an instant, 
the boy nearly panicked, thinking he had been discovered, but the Elf merely 
propped his weapon against the tree trunk just to the boy’s left and turned 
away. Returning to the place where he had slept, he picked up a scabbard and 
pulled one of two long knives from it, then settled himself onto a small boulder 
near the tree, and proceeded to examine it. He was sitting with his back to the 
boy. 

The boy’s attention was now riveted on the Elven longbow and quiver. He had 
never seen a weapon so beautiful and elegant. The wood of the bow and quiver 
gleamed in the early morning sun and appeared as smooth as glass. Intricate 
gold carvings resembling leaves on a vine decorated them both. Even the shafts 
of the arrows—from what he could see of them in the quiver—were carved, and 
the arrows ended in a bright array of yellow, green and orange feathers. The 
beautiful weapon beckoned to be touched. 

Standing up slowly, he warily watched the Elf’s back and took a few silent steps 
toward the tree. But just as he reached his quarry and reverently extended a 
small hand toward it, a much larger and stronger hand clamped hard around his 
fragile wrist. And no sooner did he raise startled green eyes and lock them with 
cool, blue ones, than he felt himself propelled hard onto the ground. Just before 
landing face down in the dirt, the boy knew a moment of sheer terror as he 
thought he saw, from the corner of his eye, the silver glint of a blade in the Elf’s 
other hand. 

It’s a human child! Legolas the Elf was just as startled as the boy when he looked 
down at the small raggedy figure shaking on the ground before him. He got 
down on his knees, set aside his long knife, and gently turned the boy around, a 
faint frown marring his perfect brow. Not taking his hands off the boy’s 
shoulders, Legolas opened his mouth to speak, but before he could utter a single 
word he felt the unmistakable cold edge of a blade pressed against his throat. 

“Let go of him…NOW,” spoke a quiet but steely voice. A female voice. The 
speaker and wielder of the blade stood behind him and outside of his range of 
vision. And as his eyes looked askance to the place where he had set down his 
long knife, he was both angered and chagrined to discover that it was no longer 
there.  

“Let go of him,” she repeated, and pressed the blade harder against the Elf’s 
tender skin, this time drawing a thin line of blood. Legolas raised his hands off 
the boy’s shoulders and held them up. The boy stared wide-eyed and open-
mouthed at the speaker, then at the Elf, and then at the speaker again, before 
crawling crab-like backwards and away. As he got up on feet that were not quite 
steady, the female snapped, 

“Jamie! What were you thinking?!” 

“He’s an Elf, Ellie!” as if that explained everything. He held his hands out 
imploringly to the unseen female. 

She gave an exasperated sigh and started edging her way around the Elf, the 
long knife never leaving his throat. As he got his first glimpse of her, he received 
his second surprise of the morning. His assailant—who had sneaked up behind 
him so stealthily that he did not sense her and who had further added insult to 
injury by stealing his knife and threatening him with it—was not much bigger and 
apparently not much older than the boy.  

She was pretty in a way that Elves found appealing—with a broad forehead and 
delicate features set in porcelain face—but she had a neglected look about her, 
much like the boy. Her dark dress, although obviously made of a fine flowing 
fabric, was torn in places and frayed all along the edges. It barely covered her 
knees and it looked as if someone had taken a hasty knife to the skirt and cut 
the lower half off. Her legs were bare and her soft ankle boots were well-worn. 
Her black hair was pulled back from her face in a seemingly endless number of 
small braids that hung down her back and gave her a slightly savage 
appearance. As she came around to face him, the hand with the long knife never 
wavered, while her other hand gently pushed the boy behind her. 

For a long moment no one spoke. The girl stared wide-eyed at the Elf kneeling 
before her. Fear and wonder and grim determination battled in her beautiful 
eyes. Legolas stared back with a stony face.  

It would be so easy to disarm her now. But right when he was about to do just 
that, the girl stepped back. Still holding the knife before her, she spoke again to 
the Elf, this time in a soft, persuasive voice, her eyes now unconsciously pleading 
with him, while she and the boy began to back away toward the forest. 

“The boy meant no harm. He was only curious. I will put your knife down now 
and we will go back into the forest and all will be as it was before.” 

And perhaps they might have been able to do just that if the Elf’s companions 
had not started to return. So fixed was her attention on the Elf that she did not 
notice them until the boy muttered, “uh oh,” under his breath. The girl visibly 
started, knife still in her hand, as she saw the three men now standing in the 
clearing, hands reaching for the hilts of their swords.  

It was a strange site that greeted the men: Legolas kneeling on the ground—
blood trickling down his throat—with two ragged and, from the looks of them, 
half-starved children pointing a long knife—the Elf’s own no less!—at him. It 
would have been comical, had the situation not seemed so grave. 

“Legolas, what is happening here?” the oldest of the three asked in a quiet but 
commanding voice. He looked to be quite old—to Elllie he seemed ancient—with 
his weathered face, long gray beard, long gray robes, and strange-looking hat on 
his head. An aura of great power and wisdom surrounded the old man, and the 
girl instinctively recognized him for what he was: no mere mortal—but an Istari 
wizard. He, in turn, seemed to recognize something in her for his eyes took on a 
speculative gleam, one that no one else but Ellie would have noticed, not even 
the Elf with his heightened senses. Her attention now focused on the Istari, the 
girl barely noticed when Legolas quietly rose from the ground. With his hand he 
gestured to his companions to stay back, but did not speak up. 

They were in BIG trouble and Ellie knew it. There was no way she and Jamie 
could fight two armed men, an Istari and an Elf; they might not even be able to 
outrun them if it came to that. So she tried to persuade again, this time 
addressing the Istari directly, while still pointing the long knife at the Elf who 
now stood but a few feet away. 

“We meant no harm. We are not thieves. The boy was only curious as boys often 
are. We are leaving now.” And she and Jamie started to back away again. This 
time the Elf took a step forward with each step backward that the boy and girl 
took. Still, she refused to give up the hope that they might actually be allowed to 
leave unchallenged.  

But she hadn’t counted on the arrival of the other five companions.  

They were no taller than Jamie, but they were much stockier. Such was her state 
of mind by now that Ellie was hardly surprised to recognize four hobbits and a 
dwarf, even though this was the first time she had ever actually laid eyes on 
such people. Nothing can surprise me now, she thought half-hysterically. But as 
quickly as the humor came it went, for the girl noticed something about the 
smallest hobbit—something that filled every fiber of her being—indeed, her very 
soul—with dark, mind-numbing terror.  

The little hobbit carried with him the very essence of evil.   
 
 

CHAPTER TWO: Flight and Confrontation 

The Eye... As surely as if she were standing before him in the black halls of 
Barad-Dur, she could “see” the Dark Lord Sauron’s Eye staring out at her from a 
gold ring hanging on a chain, hidden beneath the hobbit’s shirt. Abject terror 
clawed at her insides, shredding her composure. And with the lightning speed 
born of the mindless panic that overwhelmed her, Ellie threw the long knife at 
Legolas, not really wanting to hurt him, but not really caring if she did. Right 
now the only thing she cared about was getting Jamie and herself as far away 
from that Eye as quickly as possible. 

The instant she let go of the knife, Ellie turned and grabbed Jamie’s arm, 
spurring him on into the forest. Something of her panic communicated itself to 
the boy and, although he did not understand the reason for it, he did not 
question it. He ran faster than he had ever run before, as if his very life 
depended on it, which, in the back of his mind, he somehow suspected it did. He 
paused for a split second only when he heard Ellie stumble and fall behind him, 
but she hissed, “Keep on running!” And so he did. 

Legolas had been too caught up watching the girl’s lovely face transform itself 
into a mask of profound horror, without understanding the cause of it. He had 
not anticipated the knife, or the children’s lightning-quick flight into the forest. 
But he was an Elf and a warrior, with extraordinarily honed reflexes, and he 
managed to raise his forearm just in time as the long knife came flying at him. 
The blade hit his leather bracer—hard enough to bruise, but not cut—and then 
fell harmlessly to the ground. A cold fury filled him, one he was not accustomed 
to and did not particularly welcome. 

For their part, Legolas’ companions had also watched in fascination as the girl’s 
terror grew. Standing behind Legolas, at the edge of the clearing, they knew she 
stared at Frodo and suspected that somehow she had detected the presence of 
the One Ring. But Gandalf the Grey knew for sure, for in his mind he had seen 
the Eye stare back at the girl.  

“Get them!” he commanded of the two younger men with him. “We must bring 
that girl back!” Aragorn and Boromir ran toward the trees, but the dwarf and 
hobbits stayed behind with Gandalf, for they would never be able to match the 
speed of the others.  

Legolas, blue eyes glittering with anger, was already poised to pursue the girl. At 
Gandalf’s prompting, he ran into the forest ahead of his other companions and 
easily picked up the children’s trail—for in their rush to flee, they had made no 
attempts to hide it. Nor were they making any attempt to muffle their footsteps. 
This time, the Elf’s keen hearing did not fail him, and he could hear the two up 
ahead. He was rapidly catching up to them. Moments later, he heard the girl fall 
down and urge the boy to keep on running. It’s only a matter of time now, he 
thought and the Elf allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction.  

Ellie stared at her shattered ankle and groaned, as much from the pain as from 
the dismay of knowing that she would have to waste precious time mending it. 
Gingerly she lifted her leg up onto her lap and embraced the ankle with her two 
hands. As she closed her eyes in concentration, an almost-searing, yet not 
unpleasant, heat flowed from her small hands into her broken ankle. And as the 
seconds passed, cell by cell her fragile bones, tendons and tissues healed 
themselves. For Ellie had many gifts, and one of them was the gift of touch-
healing. 

Legolas saw the girl through a break in the trees as she stood up and resumed 
her headlong flight. Without slowing his pace, he called back to Aragorn and 
Boromir, “I’ve got the girl! Look for the boy!” and continued to give chase. Fast 
as she was, the girl could not compete with the Elf’s greater speed and longer 
gait. Until she had heard him call to his companions, she had had no idea that he 
was that close behind. In the next instant, he was upon her.  

Grabbing a handful of her braids, Legolas roughly pulled the girl backwards. As 
the back of her head slammed into his chest he wrapped a powerful arm around 
her waist, imprisoning both her arms at her sides and pulling her flush against 
his hard body.  

For a brief moment Ellie knew despair, but then she remembered Jamie. As long 
as there was a chance that Jamie might get away, she would not give up without 
a fight. 

Imprisoned as they were, her arms and hands and upper body were useless to 
her, but her legs and feet were not. So she began to kick the Elf every which 
way she could and stomp on his feet. One well-placed kick drew a small grunt 
from him and caused him to loosen his grip on her hair long enough for her to 
move her face close to the arm holding her captive. She bit him viciously. In fact, 
her teeth clamped down on his arm and would not let go. He finally relaxed his 
hold ever so slightly—her sharp little teeth were starting to take their toll—and 
Ellie was able to free one arm. She reached back and up toward his face and 
savagely clawed him across one cheek. (After months of living in the wild, her 
once lovely nails were broken and jagged—and made an ideal weapon.) The Elf 
cursed—at least it sounded like a curse—in a language Ellie did not understand. 
Letting go of her hair, he trapped her free hand in a cruel vise, but not before 
she had grabbed a fistful of pale blonde hair and pulled with all her might. And 
all the while she kept on kicking him.  

Legolas felt as if he were caught in the middle of a maelstrom. By now, he was 
so furious with the girl that he was sorely tempted to snap her neck in two just 
to end his misery. Instead he hit her in the jaw—hard enough to knock her out, 
but not hard enough to seriously injure her. The girl slumped, and the Elf 
breathed a small sigh of relief. Now that she was barely conscious, he gently 
turned her over in his arms to examine her. Her jaw would have an ugly bruise, 
no doubt about that, and he felt a small pang of regret. But it was only a small 
pang. He was not feeling kindly disposed toward the girl, for she had caused him 
a great deal of aggravation from the moment she had sneaked up behind him 
with his long knife in her hand. 

Boromir and Aragorn still had not returned with the boy, although he could hear 
all three of them somewhere up ahead in the forest. Legolas lifted the girl and 
dumped her unceremoniously over his shoulder, and started back to camp.  

Ellie awoke to a throbbing jaw and a world turned curiously upside down. When 
her mind finally cleared, she was both alarmed and outraged to realize that she 
was being carried like a sack of grain over the Elf’s shoulder. She knew it was 
the Elf, of course, because his silky blonde hair lay beneath her cheek. And she 
decided to fight back once again.  

Legolas felt the girl stir and braced himself. He spoke soothing words to her, but 
she did not hear them or chose to ignore them. For just as he was about to set 
her down on her feet, the girl grabbed two fistfuls of his hair and yanked his 
head back, while kicking her legs back and forth. Legolas cursed in Elvish once 
again and tightened his hold on her thighs and buttocks. This only enraged the 
girl further, for the next thing he knew, she had latched on to his left ear and 
seemed determined to rip it off of his head.  

“ENOUGH!” he hissed between clenched teeth. He lunged forward, meaning to 
drop the girl at his feet. But at the same time he lunged, the girl threw herself 
back in an apparent attempt to free herself, and Legolas could not keep his 
balance. The girl fell down hard, flat on her back, her dress bunched up above 
her waist. The Elf fell down on top of her, his face pressed against the hot flesh 
of her belly. And as he slowly raised his head and stared at the girl’s middle, he 
discovered several things. The girl wore no undergarments and, while she was 
undeniably small, she was NO child. Then he noticed that his hands, where they 
cradled her slender hips, burned as if he had just touched smoldering embers. 
(Indeed, he now recalled that every time he had touched her bare skin, he had 
felt the same burning sensation.) The feeling was not unpleasant—in fact it was 
decidedly pleasant—and the Elf found himself unexpectedly aroused. Finally, and 
perhaps the most shocking of all, Legolas discovered that the girl’s navel was 
pierced—and nestled within it was a small ring sparkling with diamonds. Almost 
reluctantly, Legolas let go of the girl’s hips and gently lowered her dress to cover 
her nudity. Then he raised his eyes to her face and flinched when he saw the 
delicate jaw now swollen and discolored. The girl lay perfectly still with her eyes 
tightly shut, but he could see the tears wetting her lashes. 

Ellie had been winded by the fall. But she quickly recovered and became aware 
of the heavy weight on the lower half of her body. Opening her eyes, she was 
shocked to see her dress pulled up almost to her chest and the Elf’s fair head 
face down near her private parts. Tears of mortification sprang unbidden to her 
eyes and she screwed her eyes shut. After what seemed like an eternity but 
could only have been a few minutes, she opened them, only to find the Elf’s 
bright blue gaze fixed upon her face. His _expression was unreadable, but to 
Ellie, he seemed strangely subdued, just as she now was. And as he continued to 
stare into her dark eyes without moving or saying a word, a bright pink blush 
crept up Ellie’s neck and spread across her face. Legolas, fascinated by her 
heightened color, couldn’t resist reaching out to caress her cheek with his 
fingertips. 

“I know your jaw is injured, but are you hurt anywhere else?” he finally asked. 
Ellie shook her head, as the sound of someone fast approaching brought the Elf 
to his feet. His eyes never left her face. Ellie sat up and folded her knees against 
her chest, wrapping her arms tightly around them. She lowered her eyes. The 
confrontation with the Elf had left her feeling oddly vulnerable.  
 

 
CHAPTER THREE: The Fellowship of Eleven 

Boromir walked up to them shortly thereafter, followed by Aragorn who was 
holding the boy in front of him. The men gaped at Legolas, for the usually 
pristine Elf was a mess. The large braid at the back of his head had come 
undone and the loose strands of long blonde hair had rearranged themselves in 
a most unbecoming way. One side braid was sticking out at an awkward angle 
and his ear was bright red. His clothes, which normally fit him like a second skin, 
were quite rumpled; one sleeve was almost completely pulled out of his arm 
bracer and his suede jerkin had twisted off to one side and was partly unhooked 
at the front. And most impressive of all, his perfect face now sported what 
appeared to be claw marks—four bloody, jagged lines running from just below 
one eye all the way to his chin. 

Boromir’s initial shock was quickly replaced by amusement. “Well, Legolas, it 
seems that our little she-cat has gotten the better of you,” he grinned. “Who 
would ever think that an Elf could be bested by a scrawny child?” 

“She is not a child,” the Elf muttered under his breath and gave Boromir a cold 
look, as he straightened out his clothes and smoothed his hair. Boromir laughed. 

Meanwhile, the boy had spotted Ellie and, breaking the other man’s hold on his 
arms, he ran to where she was and kneeled beside her. They hugged one 
another tightly and Jamie buried his face in her neck.  

“It’ll be all right, Jamie,” she tried to comfort him. Jamie solemnly looked up at 
her. 

“What happened to your chin, Ellie? Why don’t you fix it?” 

“Ssssh…don’t worry about that now.” And the girl turned her attention to the 
dark-haired man who had come and crouched down before them. 

“Well…you two have led us on a merry chase,” he said not unkindly. “I am 
Aragorn, and I give you my word that we will not harm you.” Then he added a 
bit more sternly, “But we do need to talk.” He stood up, holding his hand out to 
the girl. “Come.” 

Elllie could feel her apprehension grow as the party of five neared the campsite. 
No longer caught in the grips of that mindless panic, she clearly knew that the 
Elf Legolas and his companions were not wicked beings even though they 
possessed the wicked ring. Nevertheless she was terrified of seeing Sauron’s Eye 
again. And she was also afraid of meeting the Istari’s penetrating gaze. Just 
because these people were not evil did not mean that they could be trusted. So 
Ellie did the only thing she knew how to do to protect herself—she withdrew. 
Turning her gaze inward, she gathered up all her special gifts and powers and 
hid them deep within her as, one by one, impenetrable barriers went up around 
her mind and heart and soul. 

Walking hand-in-hand beside her, Jamie immediately sensed Ellie’s change, for 
her skin grew unnaturally cool. The boy looked worriedly up at her. Seeking to 
reassure him, she gave his hand a small squeeze and smiled down at him, but 
the smile did not reach her veiled eyes. Only a couple of steps behind them, 
Legolas also sensed the girl’s cold withdrawal. And he frowned. 

The hobbits were in the middle of cooking breakfast when they arrived, while the 
Istari was sitting with the dwarf off to one side, smoking a strange-looking pipe. 
Ellie watched warily as she entered the clearing, and she let go of Jamie’s hand 
to wrap her arm around his waist instead. Legolas stepped up close behind her 
and put his hands on her shoulders, whether to prevent her from bolting or to 
offer comfort she did not know. For a moment all eyes were riveted on the Elf. 
Ellie knew they were shocked by the ugly gashes marring his beautiful face, and 
she felt a twinge of guilt deep inside her. 

“The little one is quite the fighter,” offered Aragorn, as he motioned to Ellie. Now 
all eyes fixed on her and Ellie lowered her gaze to the ground. She heard 
someone approach and presently grey robes came to a stop in front of her feet. 
And now it begins…she sighed. 

Elllie whispered a warning to Jamie beside her, “Say nothing,” and lifted resolute 
eyes to the Istari’s. 

Even though he was quite old, Gandalf the Grey was a powerful and imposing 
figure. Second only to the Istari Saruman in ability, he was fairly confident of 
being able to successfully question the girl. So it came as quite a shock to him 
when he reached into the girl’s mind and found—nothing. What is this? She is 
blocking me completely!  

“Who are you? Where did you come from?” The girl did not reply, but continued 
to stare at him in stony silence. Channeling all of his powers of persuasion into 
his voice, he questioned her again and again and again. But the girl never 
opened her mouth to speak; indeed, she appeared as if she had even ceased to 
breathe, as still as she was. One hour, two hours passed, and Gandalf was not 
only troubled, but also increasingly frustrated. It was crucial that he find out 
exactly what the girl had been able to discern about the ring and the Fellowship’s 
mission. He needed to know who or what she was, and how extensive were her 
powers. And he needed to find out where she and the boy were headed. Without 
these answers he would not be able to determine what threat if any they posed 
to the Fellowship. And he would not be able to let them go. 

The boy had long since tired of standing and was sitting silently at the girl’s feet. 
Legolas was now off to one side watching, while the others were packing and 
quietly talking among themselves. Gandalf started to pace in front of the girl, 
occasionally stopping to look at her, as she followed him with her eyes. She 
roused only when he threw the boy a speculative glance, and then only long 
enough to repeat, “Say nothing.” Then silence and stillness again. The boy was 
obviously under her influence, and the wizard did not think he could get all the 
answers he needed from him, anyway. 

Left with no other choice, Gandalf announced, “They go with us.” And that is 
how Ellie and Jamie came to join the Fellowship of the Ring. 

The rest of the day passed uneventfully. Led by Gandalf, the eleven travelers 
journeyed southward, stopping periodically for short breaks so that the hobbits—
whose appetite for food seemingly knew no bounds—could have a bite to eat. 
During one of these breaks, Ellie and Jamie were offered a proper luncheon, but 
she found chewing difficult with her injured jaw. She would have to do 
something about that later, when it was dark and the others could not see.  

Ellie spoke little during their trek, and, except for an occasional inquiry from 
Legolas and Aragorn as to her well-being, her captors were content to leave her 
alone. But she could often feel Gandalf’s pensive gaze on her. 

Jamie, on the other hand, was a virtual chatterbox. While volunteering little 
information about himself and Ellie—much to her relief—he scarcely seemed to 
stop talking the entire day. He moved with boyish enthusiasm from elf to hobbit 
to dwarf to man to wizard to elf again, and so forth, asking question after 
question.  

From Jamie’s conversation, Ellie learned much about her new companions. She 
now knew that Aragorn was no mere ranger—as his clothing and reserved 
manner would imply—but rather the heir to the throne of Gondor—a king! While 
on the other hand, Boromir, who had the bearing of a prince, was the son of the 
Steward. She learned that Legolas was himself a Prince of Mirkwood, and, much 
to her amusement, that he and Gimli found each other very irritating. The 
hobbits Merry and Pippin were an inseparable pair, and quite a happy and 
mischievous duo. Sam was humble and serious, and looked after Frodo, as a 
devoted servant would his master. Although she avoided looking at Frodo as 
much as possible (even with her defenses up she was terrified of the ring), she 
could tell that he was greatly troubled by the burden he carried. She still did not 
know the reason why he carried the ring, nor where the group was headed, but 
she was able to surmise that they had set out from the Elven city of Rivendell on 
a mission of some importance and that the ring was at the center of it. Gandalf 
was the undisputed leader of the group, much respected and much loved, but 
Frodo and the ring were the reason the Fellowship existed in the first place. Ellie 
was still not ready to talk, but her worries had greatly eased to see such a 
diverse group of people come together for, what she now instinctively knew to 
be, some noble purpose. 

The sun was low in the sky when they made camp and had all but disappeared 
by the time dinner was cooked and passed around. Ellie knew she could not eat 
with the pain her jaw. Fortunately, the encroaching darkness provided excellent 
cover for her to heal herself. While the others were busy eating and drinking, 
Ellie set to work. She closed her eyes, cupped her aching jaw with her hands, 
and called upon the healing gift hidden deep within her. Just like a small spark 
ignites into a flame and then the flame grows into a brilliant fire, so did her 
power of healing ignite and grow inside of her until a familiar heat consumed 
her.  

Sitting close to her on her left, Jamie startled, then smiled. Ellie is back. And the 
boy snuggled up to her warmth. Meanwhile, sitting a few feet away on the girl’s 
other side, the Elf Legolas also noticed the change. One moment he was sitting 
in cool shadow; the next moment he felt as if he was being bathed in warm 
sunshine.  

Puzzled, Legolas rose to his feet and walked quietly to where the girl and boy 
sat. Crouching down before them he stared wide-eyed at Ellie’s glowing face. 
When he had first looked her way, he had thought that the glow was a reflection 
from the campfire, but now that he blocked the fire with his body, he realized 
that the light came from within the girl herself. He longed to touch her skin. 

Ellie sensed Legolas’ presence just as she finished healing herself, and she slowly 
opened her eyes to find his face inches from her own. Although it was dark, she 
could see him clearly and was once again struck by his heartbreaking beauty—
which made the ugly gashes on his cheek seem all the more grotesque to her. 
Without thinking about the consequences, Ellie raised a healing hand to Legolas’ 
face, and whispered, “A face as beautiful as yours should not be marred in this 
way.” 

The girl’s touch took his breath away. He could actually feel his skin heal 
beneath her gentle caress, as an exquisite heat spread from his face throughout 
his entire body. 

“You’re a touch-healer,” he said. And his blue eyes filled with wonder.  
 

 
CHAPTER FOUR: The Ilissans 

Legolas’ now flawless face created quite a stir among the others gathered 
around the fire. But Jamie had fallen asleep against her, and Ellie herself was so 
tired, that she took only a few bites out of a biscuit and lay down with the boy in 
her arms. She was too drained to talk to anyone just yet and although she knew 
she should be listening to what they were saying about her, she immediately 
went to sleep. 

“She’s a witch!” grunted the Dwarf Gimli. 

Aragorn ignored him. “I didn’t know there were any touch-healers left in Middle-
Earth—not since the Ilissans.” 

“But didn’t the Ilissans disappear centuries ago?” asked Boromir. 

“Who are the Ilissans?” asked a curious hobbit. 

“She can’t possibly be Ilissan,” concluded Aragorn. 

“She’s a witch, I tell you!” piped up Gimli. 

“How would one know if she’s Ilissan or not?” asked Legolas quietly. 

“Who are the Ilissans?” this again from a curious hobbit. 

Gandalf was thoughtful. “If I remember correctly, the Ilissans practiced self-
mutilation. They pierced their ears, nose, and navel.” 

“I didn’t notice any piercing on her face and ears,” said Aragorn slowly. 

“Her navel is pierced,” Legolas replied softly. 

“And how would you know that?” asked Boromir, with a cocked eyebrow. 

“I saw it when we struggled in the forest.” 

“So she may be Ilissan then,” concluded Gandalf, “and that would explain many 
things.” 

The nine companions fell silent and contemplated the girl who slept so peacefully 
with her arms wrapped around the boy. 

A curious hobbit finally broke the silence, “Uh...who are the Ilissans?” 

And Gandalf told them what he knew. 

“The Ilissans were a legendary family of female touch-healers, originally 
descended from the Numenorean kings. The line can be traced to the first 
millenium of the Third Age with the birth of Princess Ilissa of Gondor. She 
became renown as a gifted healer from the time she was a small child, but 
where she got her gift, no one knows. Princess Ilissa gave birth to three 
daughters, all of them touch-healers like herself. These daughters and their 
female descendants (for no sons were ever been born to them) formed a secret 
society and called themselves the Ilissans. They achieved great prominence in 
the communities of Man because of their exceptional healing skills. Indeed, the 
most gifted among them were known to be ‘soul catchers’—capable of giving life 
back to those newly deceased by illness or injury.” 

The four hobbits gasped, and Gimli muttered, “Witches…” 

Gandalf continued. “The Ilissans coupled with select men from the noblest 
families—and in time, it is suspected, with Elves and Mermen, as well—in order 
to strengthen their bloodline and breed daughters with exceptional gifts and 
abilities. But they never married, and they gave their allegiance to each other 
rather than to any man or king or state. And that is what ultimately led to their 
downfall. For by the time the Watchful Peace ended* (in the year 2460), men 
had grown envious and suspicious of the powers they possessed.” 

“What sort of powers, Gandalf?” asked Frodo. 

“Many Ilissan daughters were born with the gifts of prophecy and clairvoyance. 
Others developed the ability to move objects with their minds, and a few were 
even thought to be firestarters.” Gimli snorted in disbelief. 

“Ilissans also developed a special relationship with Nature and it was said that, 
like the Elves, they could communicate with animals and trees. They had keen 
senses of sight and hearing and were not affected by extreme cold. It was also 
said that some Ilissans—those purported to have mermaiden blood—could 
breathe water, as well as air. And those with Elven blood could choose immortal 
life.” Legolas’ eyes widened in surprise.  

Gandalf paused and took a deep breath. Then he continued in a hushed voice, a 
distant look in his eyes: 

“A few Ilissans were seduced by Sauron’s promises and joined with the forces of 
Evil. This was just the excuse that men needed to plot against them. Although 
the vast majority of Ilissans stayed true to the Light, it was not enough to save 
them. For the World of Men united against the Ilissans and destroyed them. 
Hundreds were killed in the first few years and those who survived and their 
descendants were hunted down in the decades that followed. Some were 
mercifully beheaded, but most were burned alive at the stake until nothing 
remained of their bodies but a few bones and ashes. The last known Ilissan was 
discovered and put to death some three hundred years ago in Minas Tirith…I 
cannot help but think that the demise of such extraordinary beings was a tragic 
loss for Middle-Earth.” 

The listeners lowered their eyes as they silently contemplated the fate of the 
touch-healers. Aragorn and Boromir were especially touched, for it was their 
ancestors who had destroyed the Ilissans. Even Gimli seemed uncharacteristically 
subdued. 

“But some of them must have survived for the girl to be Ilissan,” Boromir finally 
said, nodding toward the sleeping Ellie. 

“Indeed, that is what I am thinking,” Gandalf admitted. “At least one or more 
must have survived in the remote areas of Middle-Earth. And, if the stories about 
them mating with elves and mermen are true, then it wouldn’t surprise me if 
some of them also found refuge in the woodland realms and in the sea.” 

Legolas shook his head, “ Not in Mirkwood, that I know of.” And then he mused, 
“But if there were part-Elven among them, some may have even journeyed to 
Valinor, without the Eldar in Middle-Earth knowing of their Ilissan ancestry.” 

CHAPTER FIVE: Revelation 

Both Ellie and Jamie woke up before dawn (as they were wont to do) and found 
Legolas taking the last watch. With a big smile on his face, Jamie bounded to 
where the Elf sat. Legolas greeted the boy warmly, but his eyes never left the 
girl who slowly approached. 

“I need a few minutes of privacy,” she said by way of greeting. The Elf nodded 
and Ellie walked into the forest. He knew she would not flee and leave and the 
boy behind. 

By the time she returned, Gandalf and the two men were also awake. Ellie knew 
that the time had come for her to answer their questions. She sat down beside 
Jamie and waited. 

Not surprisingly, Gandalf spoke up first. “That is quite a talent you possess, Ellie, 
healing with the touch of your hands…Who are you and where do you come 
from?” 

Ellie raised her head proudly. “I am the Lady Elanae of Ravenskeep, and this 
is”—as she took hold of Jamie’s hand—“Harold James, son of King Ruellen, and 
heir to the throne of Ravenwood.” 

Shock rippled through the listeners at her declaration. For it was known to them 
that, several months before, the remote northern kingdom of Ravenwood and its 
capital city of Ravenskeep, had been completely destroyed, and its people 
brutally slain, by forces allied with the Dark Lord Sauron. Until now, there had 
been no known survivors. 

“How is it that you still live?” asked Aragorn in wonder, for it was he who had 
brought the news of the total destruction of Ravenwood to the Council of Elrond. 
“And are you not…Ilissan?” he added, in a half-whisper. 

Jamie started, suddenly afraid for Ellie, but the girl squeezed his hand 
reassuringly, and faced the man. 

“And if I am?” she challenged. 

“You have nothing to fear from us, Lady Elanae,” replied Gandalf gently, and 
Ellie instantly knew this to be true. 

By now, the others had awakened and gathered around to listen, as Ellie began 
her story. “You are right, Aragorn, I am Ilissan, but where my mother came from 
I do not know. Nor do I know who sired me, for although I have my suspicions, 
Ilissan mothers never reveal such things to their daughters. All I know is that my 
mother, heavy with child, arrived in Ravenwood and was welcomed by one of 
Jamie’s forefathers, for she used her healing gift to save the life of his son and 
heir. She was given the title of Lady and fine apartments in the Royal Palace of 
Ravenskeep, and it was there that I was born—285 years ago.” That revelation 
drew some audible gasps. She must have Elven blood then thought Legolas. 

“We lived there, my mother and I, for many happy years, practicing our healing 
arts without fear and serving Jamie’s family—until she passed away of old age. 
For even though she had an exceptionally long life, she was a mortal woman.” 

“I continued in my service to the Royal Family and the people of Ravenskeep as 
head of the Houses of Healing. And when Jamie was born 9 years ago, he was 
placed in my care. For he was a colicky baby,” said Ellie, as she smiled fondly at 
the boy sitting beside her, “and only my voice and my touch could sooth him. We 
have belonged to each other ever since…” 

A quiet voice interrupted her, “And in all those long years, did you not have 
daughters of your own, Lady Elanae?” 

“Ellie, please. No I did not, Legolas,” and she looked at him straight in the eye, 
“for I did not wish to leave the sanctuary Ravenwood offered in order to seek a 
mate, and it would have been…unwise…to have joined with a local man. Ilissans 
do not marry, nor do we maintain relationships with those who father our 
daughters.” 

Ellie shrugged and looked away, returning to her story. “In recent years we 
began to hear rumors that the Dark Lord Sauron was re-building his forces and 
that once again he held sway over all evil things in Middle-Earth. And indeed, the 
Orcs became increasingly bold in their attacks against Ravenwood. Not only were 
their raids more frequent, but they were deeper inside our territory. And then 
about a year ago, we discovered they had joined with some of the wild mountain 
tribes beyond our borderlands. King Ruellen had to order all outlying settlements 
abandoned, for our soldiers could no longer defend them. And six months ago, 
he bade all the people to seek refuge within the walls of Ravenskeep.” 

“As the attacks worsened, we prepared for a long siege—and war. Seeking allies, 
King Ruellen dispatched messengers to the nearest kingdoms, including 
Mirkwood,” and she raised questioning eyes to the Elf, “but no help ever came.” 

“No message was ever received,” said Legolas quietly. Ellie nodded, as if 
confirming her suspicions. “We feared as much when our messengers did not 
return and no help arrived.” 

Ellie continued, “Throughout the summer the men worked hard to fortify the city 
and to forge weapons, while the women prepared foodstuffs that would keep for 
long periods of time. I did what I could, with Jamie more often than not in tow, 
to see that the Houses of Healing were well stocked with surgical supplies and 
medicinal herbs. For even though I am a touch-healer, there is no way I alone 
could heal every injury and every illness in the city, particularly in a time of 
war.” 

“The summer was unbearably hot and humid, and the city was filled to 
overflowing with three times the number of its usual inhabitants. It was 
difficult—nay, impossible—for Jamie and me to remain within its walls. And so, 
even though the women and children were not allowed to leave the city, I still 
managed to venture out unobserved almost every day, sometimes alone, 
sometimes with Jamie. I believe the King suspected, but he trusted me 
wholeheartedly with his son and never said anything. And, in truth, up until the 
time of the attack, the fields and forests immediately surrounding Ravenskeep 
were quite safe, for they were regularly patrolled by our troops and no raids had 
yet taken place there.” 

“On the afternoon of the attack Jamie and I slipped away to a secluded spring, 
about a mile away, to gather some ethalus plants, and also to swim. I had no 
sense of approaching danger—no sense of impending doom,” Ellie said in a 
bewildered voice. And then she explained to Gandalf, “You see, the Sight is not 
something I can turn on at will—it just happens—and even though I often can 
perceive danger before it arrives, on that horrible day I sensed nothing. The 
Sight failed me utterly.” 

“The first inkling I got that something was terribly wrong was when the hearts of 
four soldiers stopped beating inside of mine. I had seen these same soldiers go 
out on patrol earlier.” Ellie paused. “There is something I need to explain to 
you,” and her eyes briefly sought out Legolas’. “Whenever I use my hands to 
heal someone, a connection is made between that person and myself. My life-
force joins with theirs for however long the healing lasts. And henceforth, an 
awareness of their being remains within me. For as long as they live, wherever 
they may be, I can feel their heart beating inside of my own heart.” Ellie now 
turned to Gandalf, “At one time or another, throughout my life, I must have 
touch-healed—at least once—just about every man, woman, and child in the city 
of Ravenskeep, and many others too who lived in the realm’s other settlements. 
That afternoon there were thousands of hearts beating inside of me, Gandalf. 
Thousands…” And the wizard’s eyes filled with sympathy, as if guessing what 
was to come. 

Jamie wrapped his arms tightly around Ellie as her beautiful eyes welled with 
tears. “When I felt the hearts of those soldiers stop, my first reaction was to get 
Jamie and myself back to the city as soon as possible. But then more hearts 
began to stop—six here, ten there, more and more and more in ever-increasing 
numbers. And not just soldiers, but other men…and women…and children too. 
My mind did not want to accept it, but once we saw the plumes of smoke rising 
from the direction of the city, I knew for certain that only Death awaited us 
there. So I grabbed Jamie’s hand and ran in the opposite direction, away from 
Ravenskeep. Deeper and deeper into the forest we ran, farther and farther away 
from our home, but I could not outrun the horror—the pain—of all those hearts 
being snuffed out.” The tears were streaming down Ellie’s face, her voice now 
but a whisper. “All night long, the hearts continued to stop—until there came a 
time, just after dawn, when only Jamie’s heartbeat was left inside of me. So 
much loss…so much anguish…I think—no, I know, I would have gone stark, 
raving mad from the grief of it if Jamie had not been there by my side. He gave 
me a reason to live, to fight for survival.” And she kissed the top of the boy’s 
head. 

For a while, no one spoke. Then Boromir asked, not without admiration, “But 
how did you manage to survive all these months alone in the wilderness?” 

Ellie gave him a small smile. “That part was not as difficult, Boromir, as you 
might think. Jamie and I have always felt at home in the forest and are quite 
capable of surviving in the wilderness. I have a great affinity for trees and 
woodland animals, if you must know, and…well, the truth is…I am able to 
communicate with them,” she added a little sheepishly. “So, we kept to the 
forests and avoided all roads and human settlements. We traveled by day and 
nested high in the trees at night, to protect ourselves from Orcs and other vile 
creatures. Food was plentiful at first, as you can imagine, for fall was upon us 
and the forests were teeming with fruits and berries and nuts, and I fashioned a 
fishing pole of sorts for Jamie. It wasn’t until recently, with the approach of 
winter, that food became more scarce, and even so we managed to get by.” 

Then Gandalf spoke up. “You two have traveled far from Ravenwood. Where 
were you headed?” 

Ellie hesitated, but Jamie blurted out, “The woods of Lothlorien. We are going to 
live among the Elves!” 

Ellie nodded. “My mother once told me that if I ever found myself alone and in 
trouble that I should make my way to Lothlorien—that the Elves there would 
welcome me.” 

“You are half-Elven then…,” said Legolas. 

“I do not know, for my mother never told me. But…I suspect that I may be, 
although l do not look it. I certainly don’t look anything like you!” 

Legolas smiled. “And yet, you seem to have much in common with us.” 

Jamie was delighted. “Ellie, you’re an Elf!” 

Over breakfast, Gandalf asked Ellie about the previous morning. “What did you 
see, Ellie? Why were you so frightened?” 

“I saw Sauron’s Eye,” she stated baldly. “I saw his Eye staring out of that evil 
Ring that Frodo carries. And he stared straight at me, beckoning to me. You 
must understand, Gandalf, Sauron has ever wanted to control the Ilissans—to 
control our power—for we literally hold Life and Death in our hands.” 

Gandalf nodded. “And are you not even a little tempted to possess the Ring, 
Ellie?” he asked softly, his eyes intent on her face. 

 “No!” she denied vehemently. “The Ring terrifies me. I am a child of the Light 
and could never be swayed by the forces of Evil. But I do not want to see that 
Eye again.” She turned to Frodo and smiled, “And I have now shielded myself as 
best as I can against that.” Then to Gandalf she said, “Sauron is responsible for 
the destruction of Ravenwood—and the decimation of the Ilissans. He is my 
enemy as much as he is yours.”  

Afterwards, Ellie and Jamie were told about the Fellowship’s mission to destroy 
Sauron’s Ring. Their eyes grew huge when they learned that the group was 
headed to Mordor itself. 

“Surely you can’t be serious?!” the girl exclaimed in shocked disbelief. “But that 
would be suicide!” 

“There is no other way,” Gandalf countered. Boromir snorted and Ellie raised an 
eyebrow in surprise as she realized that there was dissension in the Fellowship. 

“But you need not worry, Ellie. We will be passing near Lothlorien, and will see 
that you and Jamie get there safely,” Aragorn reassured her. 

Ellie should have felt reassured—and she did, for Jamie and herself—but her 
heart remained strangely troubled. She did not believe the Fellowship could 
succeed in their mission. And the thought of Legolas’ strong heartbeat falling 
silent within her heart suddenly became unbearable…  
 

 
CHAPTER SIX: Ellie’s Choice 

During the next few days the Fellowship made steady progress southward 
through the Misty Mountains. As the terrain became more rugged and rockier, 
there were minor injuries which Ellie took care of by conventional means. But on 
the fourth day out, the hobbit Pippin suffered a nasty fall that resulted in a 
broken wrist and sprained ankle. Ellie had to use her gift of touch-healing to take 
care of him—much to the fascination of those gathered around to watch her. The 
following day, Gimli fell down hard on his face and broke his nose. The gruff 
dwarf unexpectedly warmed toward the girl, as she gently set his nose to rights 
with her healing hands. Indeed, the whole Fellowship had been touched by the 
story of the two orphans from Ravenwood, and Ellie and Jamie found themselves 
the focus of much attention and affection. 

Legolas and Ellie became particularly close. They spent many an hour talking 
about the things that were dear to them—their special relationship with Nature, 
their love of trees and music and art, their friendships with mortal humans, and 
their immortality—for Ellie had scarcely aged in almost 285 years and knew 
herself to be immortal. Legolas told her about his home in Mirkwood, and about 
his life there. He taught her Elven lore and history, and some of the language 
spoken in Lothlorien. She, in turn, told him about growing up in Ravenwood, and 
about her Ilissan legacy and what it meant for her future. Jamie often sat and 
listened to their conversations, for he was even more fascinated by Elves now 
that he believed Ellie to be one. But often it was just Ellie and Legolas together, 
sitting and walking side by side. 

Their growing attachment did not escape the others’ attention, and Legolas was 
subjected to some good-natured teasing when Ellie was out of earshot. The Elf 
chose to ignore it, keeping his usual cool demeanor. But inside, Legolas’ 
emotions were churning. He did not want his heart to be engaged in this way, 
and yet he was powerless to prevent it. Ellie drew him like no other Elf, male or 
female, had ever done before. He was desperate to touch her, but given their 
situation and her Ilissan heritage and what it portended, he was reluctant to take 
her for a lover. But he couldn’t resist being her friend, and with each passing 
day, he grew fonder of the small girl. 

As for Ellie, she found the handsome Elf strangely compelling. The more she got 
to know him, the more in awe she was of him. Ellie had never felt physical desire 
for another person before, and at first did not recognize its faint stirrings within 
her body. But by the end of the week she could not be near him without 
quivering. And whenever she accidentally brushed against him, or lay her hand 
on his arm, her blood became a raging, boiling torrent racing inside of her. She 
wanted Legolas—and the idea to mate with him and conceive a daughter took 
hold of her. The thought that she might be in love with him (which was obvious 
to everyone else in the Fellowship, including Legolas) never crossed her mind, 
for such romantic notions were forbidden to Ilissans. 

Ellie thought it would be an ideal pairing for many reasons. Not only was he a 
Prince with an impeccable lineage, but, being an Elf, he possessed the very 
qualities and abilities that she wanted to strengthen in her own bloodline. 
Moreover, he was—without a doubt—the most beautiful person she had ever 
met, and if her daughter were to inherit even a fraction of his physical beauty, 
she would count herself doubly blessed. Plus, she genuinely liked him, which did 
much to allay any fear she might have felt about laying with someone for the 
first time. Finally, but not the least important, was the fact that his realm in 
Mirkwood was located many days north of the woods of Lothlorien. She did not 
think she would have to worry about Legolas interfering in the life of her 
daughter. Ellie and Jamie and her daughter would be able to remain in Lothlorien 
for as long as they desired it—or were welcome. And she would be able to stay 
true to her vows as an Ilissan.  

And, even though Ellie could sense Legolas’ ambivalence, she was also well 
aware that he craved her touch and was confident that she could persuade him 
to lay with her when the right moment arrived. 

Her first opportunity came sooner than she could have hoped for… 

*************************************************************** 

It had been a harrowing morning for everyone. The day had dawned cold and 
wet and dismally gray, and as the morning wore on, the rocky ground beneath 
them became more and more treacherous. One after the other, the travelers and 
their pony kept stumbling, and even the sure-footed Legolas found himself 
slipping several times. Then, late in the morning, Gandalf took a bad tumble 
down a steep slope. The group watched in horror as the old wizard rolled and 
bounced, finally coming to rest, unconscious, against a large boulder. Legolas 
grabbed Ellie’s hand and the two of them scrambled down after him, followed 
closely by Aragorn.  

It was a difficult healing. Gandalf had suffered many injuries and Legolas and 
Aragorn had to disrobe him in order for Ellie to rub her hands gently over his 
head and body. By the time she was finished, Gandalf was little worse for the 
wear, but Ellie was exhausted. The four of them struggled to climb back up the 
slippery slope, as Aragorn had to assist a somewhat shaken Gandalf and Legolas 
practically had to carry Ellie. When they reached the others, everyone agreed 
that there wouldn’t be any more traveling that day. 

They set up camp at a nearby outcrop surrounded by dense pines. The rocks and 
trees provided them with sufficient shelter to start a fire and dry their wet 
clothes. Sam fried some sausages and made hot coffee for everyone. And the 
weary companions spent the rest of the afternoon talking quietly and resting, 
while a bedraggled Ellie fell sound asleep. And even though he knew she did not 
feel the cold like other people, Legolas tenderly covered her small body with a 
dry blanket. 

She awoke hours later to find Gandalf sitting next to her smoking his pipe. He 
smiled down at her lovely face as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes. 

“You saved my life, little one.” 

Ellie smiled back. 

“And now you carry a piece of my heart within you always.” 

“It is an honor for me to do so,” she replied truthfully.  

The wizard patted her cheek fondly, then stood and walked away. As Ellie sat up 
she noticed that the rain had stopped. The late afternoon sun had finally shown 
its face and was shining through the pine boughs. And Legolas was sitting across 
from her, his fair head haloed in burnished gold. They were alone. 

As she stared at his sun-kissed beauty, the words came unbidden out of her, 
“You are so beautiful, you take my breath away.” And then she blushed prettily, 
much to Legolas’ amusement. But his smile faded when he noticed her eyes. 
They were wide and luminous, and the Elf could clearly see the longing in them. 
It was a longing that he shared, but Legolas was still determined not to act upon 
it. And it wasn’t going to be easy, for his senses were still reeling from the feel of 
her hot, wet body as he half-carried her up that slope. They needed to talk, and 
soon. 

Legolas abruptly stood up, startling her. “Come walk with me,” he asked her with 
just a hint of urgency. 

Perplexed, Ellie got up to follow. As they left the shelter of the campsite, she 
could see Jamie and the hobbits engaging in a mock swordfight with Aragorn 
and Boromir. Gandalf had joined Gimli off to one side to watch. Ellie had no idea 
where Legolas was leading her, but once the others were out of sight, she found 
herself unexpectedly nervous. They had come around to the other side of the 
outcrop. The shadows were longer here, for the sun was not visible on this side 
of the mountain. Twilight was upon them, and Ellie’s heart began to thump 
rapidly. 

“You were remarkable today, Ellie,” Legolas said, startling her again as he 
suddenly stopped and turned around to face her. To her surprise, she could see 
that he was wound up tighter than a spring. Indeed, his hands kept opening and 
closing into fists. Why…he is just as nervous as I am! And that realization did 
much to dispel her apprehension. 

The girl shrugged her shoulders and smiled. “I am a touch-healer, Legolas—I 
simply did what I have always done and was born to do.”  

The intense longing was back in her eyes, this time tinged with gentle 
amusement. The Elf groaned inwardly. Legolas had made a BIG mistake—and 
well he knew it. He had brought her here to dissuade her from this infatuation of 
hers, but he found himself unable to speak of it. His ability to reason and his 
iron-clad self-control—perfected through years of military training—were about 
to fail him. For he could feel the sexual tension rising between Ellie and him. It 
was a living, breathing thing. The air practically crackled with it…And the little 
minx standing before him was going to play it for all its worth. He could see it in 
her face, just as she could surely see the beads of perspiration breaking out on 
his. And as Ellie closed the distance between them, he felt his entire being melt 
away, except for that one rock-hard part of him that longed to sheath itself 
inside her slender body. 

Ellie raised a small hand to his long hair and ran her fingers through the silky 
strands, now silvered by the waning light. “You are like starlight come to life,” 
she whispered, enchanted, as she raised her other hand to cup his pale cheek. 
Legolas shuddered. And she felt that shudder to the very core of her being, her 
body answering it with one of its own. 

In the very next instant, Legolas backed her, none to gently, into the smooth 
wall of the outcrop and pressed his body against hers, using his hands to raise 
her face so that he could kiss her, while Ellie wrapped her arms tightly around 
his waist. Had he been more in control of himself, he surely would have handled 
her with exquisite care, for he cherished Ellie; but right now his feelings were too 
savage. His hot, hard lips devoured hers, pulling, biting, bruising, while his 
tongue ruthlessly ravaged the inside of her mouth. One hand dropped to her 
slender neck and wrapped itself around it. For one crazy moment, Ellie thought 
that he meant to strangle her for she felt his hand tighten, but then he moved it 
to one breast. She moaned. And when that wicked hand squeezed, Ellie’s legs 
gave way and, had he not been pinning her so tightly against the wall, she surely 
would have fallen. 

Even through their clothes, Ellie could feel his throbbing member grinding into 
her belly, and she stood on her tippy-toes, trying to bring it closer to her own 
throbbing womanhood. Sensing her need, Legolas lifted her skirt with his other 
hand and shoved his knee upward, mounting her on his leg. Had she been able 
to, Ellie would have screamed out her pleasure. As it was, she bit down hard on 
his tongue, and tasted blood. 

Legolas’ two hands now began to feverishly explore the hot, writhing body 
underneath her dress. She exulted in his touch. And when he dropped her back 
on her feet, and his knowing fingers found the core of her womanhood, Ellie was 
racked by violent convulsions. 

In all his long life, Legolas had never before experienced such soul-shattering 
need. He felt as if he was consumed by an inferno, and his body screamed for 
release. The girl was impossibly small, impossibly hot, and Legolas wanted to 
impale her against that rock wall. But just as he was about to loosen his pants to 
do just that, Jamie’s clear voice rang out on top of the mountain, calling for 
Ellie. 

The girl and the Elf felt as if they had been doused with ice water, as their world 
came to a sudden and painful standstill. Ellie and Legolas stared at each other in 
shock, and for a moment neither moved, although their bodies continued to 
shudder of their volition. Legolas recovered first, and placing his hands on the 
wall on either side of her, he pushed his body away from the girl’s. Then he 
pressed his forehead against hers, and closed his eyes. 

“Are you all right, Ellie? The boy is headed this way.” 

“Yes,” Ellie whispered, but she wasn’t really. And neither was Legolas. 

Ellie had been unprepared for the intensity of their lovemaking. She was both 
confused and frightened by such raging emotions, his and hers. She had not 
expected—could never have imagined—the total loss of control, the total 
relinquishing of self, that she experienced in Legolas’ arms. For the second time 
since meeting him, she was acutely conscious of her vulnerability as a 
female…and she felt vanquished. Ellie wanted to weep. She wanted to hide. 
Above all else, she wanted Legolas to touch her again. 

Legolas studied the small girl standing before him, and clenched his jaw. Ellie’s 
composure was badly shaken. She was wild-eyed and flushed, and wouldn’t stop 
trembling. Her soft mouth was swollen, and in all probability, would soon be 
bruised as well. At the very least, she looked as if she had been thoroughly 
kissed. At the worst, she looked as if she had been roughly tumbled, which—
thanks to him—she very nearly had been. She also looked as if she were about 
to cry. Her vulnerability was heartbreaking to watch. 

“Ellie, we’ll talk about this later,” he said gently to her just as Jamie came 
bounding up to them. “Later” would not come until early the next morning. 

There were a few raised eyebrows when the three of them entered the campsite, 
but one look at Legolas’ taut face and Ellie’s fragile appearance was enough to 
silence any would-be comments from the others—at least in the girl’s presence. 
Dinner was a quiet affair, and surely thereafter, the Fellowship retired. Gandalf 
wanted them to make an early start the next morning to compensate for the 
time lost that day. 

Legolas had taken the first watch that night and then, because he could not 
sleep, he took the last watch as well. He had handled the situation with Ellie 
badly, and he was deeply disturbed. He had meant to talk her out of her 
infatuation, to explain to her that he could not, would not be her lover. But 
instead he had lost control. And in the worst possible way. He had never lost 
control before—not like this. The girl was an innocent—something he had 
known—and yet he had pounced on her like some craven animal. He had hurt 
her—physically, emotionally—and would have taken her violently against that 
rock wall had the boy not interrupted. Legolas could not explain his behavior. 
Nor could he excuse it. The only thing he knew was that her first introduction to 
lovemaking should have been very different. She had deserved to be wooed 
slowly, gently, as befits a maiden—and he had failed her. 

He could see her on the other side of the campfire, lying next to Jamie. Her 
sleep was troubled, for she kept tossing and turning, whimpering and mumbling 
incoherent words. This too, then, was his fault, for he had always seen her sleep 
soundly before.  

Despite her restless night, or perhaps because of it, Ellie woke up even earlier 
than usual. As she sat up, she noticed Legolas sitting across the fire from her, 
and she suddenly felt shy and unsure of herself. But she gathered up her 
courage, gave him a wobbly smile, and approached him. And as she did, she 
noticed that despite his utter stillness, his blue eyes were filled with torment.  

Ellie held out a hand to him, “We can talk now.” And she motioned to a flat 
boulder a short distance away, “Over there.” They would still be visible from the 
camp, but their words would be private. 

Legolas took her small hand in his and stood, steeling himself against the now-
familiar heat that coursed through his body whenever she touched him. When 
they got to the boulder, they sat down side by side on top of it, with their backs 
to the sleeping companions. The Elf put his arm around her shoulder, and Ellie 
leaned into him. 

“I want to apologize for my behavior yesterday,” he quietly began, and as Ellie 
shook her head to stop him, he continued more fervently, “What happened 
between us should never have happened. And certainly not in the way it 
happened.” 

“It’s not always like that, then?” she asked, curious. 

“No. Not usually. Not for me.” He paused. “You are yet a maiden, Ellie. Any Elf, 
or man, worthy of you would make love to you tenderly, slowly… There is no 
excuse for what I did.” 

Ellie was silent for a moment. “It seems to me I am as much to blame for what 
happened, perhaps even more so. I wanted you, Legolas.” And then, more 
softly, “I still do. I want you to lay with me.” 

The Elf closed his eyes and grimaced. “I don’t think that would be a good idea…” 
he began, and then, because he had suspected her motives even as he had 
recognized her growing affection for him, he asked her, “Why do you ask this of 
me?” 

“I want you to give me a daughter,” she answered honestly, suddenly reluctant 
to deceive him as so many of her ancestors had deceived their mates. 

“You want a daughter,” he stated flatly, surprised at the disappointment he felt 
as his suspicions were confirmed. 

“I want your daughter,” she insisted.  

“And that is all you ask of me?” Legolas turned slightly so that he could meet her 
eyes. 

“I cannot ask any more of you. I am Ilissan.” And her earnest face pleaded with 
him for understanding. 

But he grew angry instead and dropped his arm. “And yet you ask too much of 
me, Ellie. You expect me to give you a child—my child—and then walk away and 
have nothing more to do with you or her. My daughter would never know me, 
would not even know my name. Just like you know nothing of your father. I am 
sorry, Ellie, but I cannot.” With that he climbed off the boulder and started back 
to camp. But then, because he did not want to be angry with her, and perhaps 
too because secretly he wanted to change her way of thinking, he came back 
and sat down again, this time facing her. 

Ellie looked at him, pain and confusion visible in her eyes. 

“Tell me, Ellie, do you love Jamie?” 

The question surprised her. “He is a child…” she replied slowly. 

“Yes, but in a few years time he will not be. Yet you will be the same as you are 
now. So, will you stop loving him then? When he is a man full-grown? Or will you 
perhaps let him sire a daughter for you—he is, after all, a prince like me, is he 
not? And if he does sire your daughter, what then? As an Ilissan you are bound 
to abandon him and start a new life with your daughter where he will not find 
you. How do you think Jamie will feel?” He paused. “How do you think I feel?” he 
whispered. 

Ellie shook her head and quietly began to cry. “I am sorry, Legolas, I am so 
sorry…” But she bowed her head and would not look at him again. The Elf 
watched her for a few minutes, then climbed down and walked away. 

The next chapter will be:

CHAPTER SEVEN: The Journey Onward