A Promise- a LOTR Fanfiction (Legolas) ❤︎ ✓

Chapter 2: Rivendell

EDITED 01/06/16

I remember living in Rivendell for many years. It was a peaceful, calm life, and I learned Elvish healing. I was terrible at speaking Elvish since I have been used to speaking Westron for so long, but I could understand most basic phrases when spoken clearly. Nothing interesting, just simple hello's and goodbye's. My native language has dissipated into bread crumbs on my tongue.

I practiced archery in the beginning, as most of the elves in Middle Earth did, and ignored the looks that the other elves shot me. I was a female elf fighting? In Rivendell, of all placed? Strange, but then again, there's not a lot of half human elves around. I eventually gave up with archery as I liked being in the battle rather than afar, and besides, I was rubbish at it.

But I could wield blades.

On my sixteenth birthday, Elrond presented me with two daggers, as he knew that most single swords were too heavy and felt unbalanced in my hands. I can remember unsheathing them, my hands shaking with excitement, and the glint of the metal against the afternoon sun. I practiced with them everyday, excited to have a weapon at last. I genuinely enjoyed life in Rivendell, and never thought of Mirkwood until I was much older.

After nine years of living in Imladris, I decided to travel Middle Earth. Elrond was hesitant, as I was still quite young in his immortal, elven eyes, and he had grown quite fond of me, but he let me go. We both knew that I wouldn't return in a matter of months- perhaps it would be years before we saw each other again.

He gave me one of his best horses, a chestnut with a flowing red mane the same colour as my hair. My young, brassy hair had changed into a fiery red, just like the horses mane. I called him Numen- west, where the sun sets and the sky turns red.

Once I left, I learned a lot of things I never would have known if I had stayed in Rivendell. I learned about the real world; about evil, about survival. I visited the White City, stayed in Rohan for a day or two (which my mother always spoke fondly about), saw the Shire, and last, I journeyed back to Mirkwood.

During my travel, I would get the chance to fight orc packs, and work on my fighting skill. At the beginning, I would get injured far more often, but I could use my simple elvish healing to fix my scratches and cuts. Lord Elrond had supplied me with lots of material and equipment, and I was prepared for everything.

Except for the return home.

When I arrived at Mirkwood last, I was surprised to see the forest looking more sickly than I remembered, but once I passed the front gates, a feeling of comfort rushed through me.

Despite all of the changes to the land and to myself, a weight in my soul I never knew existed was lifted.

I was home.

At first, nobody recognized me, but once I asked for the King and was escorted to the Throne room, I was attacked with hugs. All I saw was a rush of blond hair, and when we pulled apart, I saw that it was the prince. Tears filled my eyes, and I can remember feeling like it was one of the best moments in my life. King Thranduil greeted me warmly and showed me where I could stay, and I really felt at home. I stayed for more years than I had planned, happily reunited with old friends and places. We caught up with one another, but I spent most of my time with Legolas. We used to be the best of friends until I disappeared. King Thranduil said that I had disappeared during an Orc raid and they never saw me since. Legolas thought he lost me, and when I came back, he wouldn't leave my side. We were best friends after all, and everyone had presumed me dead. I didn't blame him.

But I will never admit that I didn't want to leave his side, either.

But when the three years had past, I wanted to go back to Rivendell. Although I had made many good memories in my home land and worked on my Elvish, I didn't feel comfortable anymore, Mirkwood was given a creature called Gollum, whom was really a pitiful and untrustworthy creature. Being in proximity with that thing gave me the chills and a feeling of anxiety, like wherever he would be, bad things would happen. King Thranduil tried to convince me that it was safe, but that nagging voice in the back of my mind wouldn't be silenced.

Mirkwood was changing in a negative way, and I never saw Legolas. He was always busy with his new princely duties, although I know he tried making time for me. I decided to go back to see Elrond, and perhaps stay another few years. I wanted peace and quiet once more, and Mirkwood held too many memories for me to bear.

So I left on Numen once again, and set out East towards my other home. I hadn't seen Elrond or his daughter Arwen in four years, and I missed them. Arwen was one of my closest friends; although she was immortal, her years added up to mine, and we got along quite well before I left. But, the she-elf was much more romantic and calm than I, who much more preferred adventure and noise. We cared about each other immensely, but I knew Legolas would always be my closest friend. We knew each others secrets and promises.

* * *

Rivendell.

Imladris.

My home since I was twelve- now I'm twenty six. I enjoy the peaceful, calm life, and although it can be predictable and boring at times, the scenery is breathtaking and the elves are kind. I still stay in the same room as I woke up in thirteen years ago, but it's more me than it was before. The wooden desk across from my bed has clothes strewn all over the surface, the bed has a letter stashed under the pillow, the bathroom has my own supplies (rather than when I borrowed towels when I had first arrived) and my daggers have their own spots on a shelf.  I lie on my back on my white bed, exhausted from training earlier on.

I drag myself out of bed and walk over to my familiar patio and watch the elves go about their own business, walking gracefully across the stone pathways, under the arches. The sun is high up in the sky- it's just past noon. The warm breeze sweeps my darker, reddish hair off of my shoulder, the long waves flowing in the light wind.

The elves continue doing their activities gracefully, and I am about to go back inside when I see a Gondorian man ride in on a chestnut horse, giant, round shield strapped to his back. My eyes narrow in confusion- and then I see Legolas ride through the gates on a white horse. He dismounts and looks around him and a smile breaks out on my face. He looks the exact same as he did when I last saw him, whereas my appearance has changed slightly due to my human genes. Then, most surprising of all, a group of dwarves march in through the gates, wielding axes and glaring at the scenery around them. It's been decades since dwarves have been in Rivendell- I wasn't even alive then!

I dart out of my room to greet Legolas, gliding down the stairs gracefully. I make to pass through a room as a shortcut, getting halfway across the room, but sliding to a stop when I see that Elrond and a grey-robed wizard stand talking. They stop their conversation and look at me standing a meter in front of them, my cheeks red and hair flying over my shoulder.

"Lord Elrond." I bow hastily. He nods at me and I turn to his companion.

"Gandalf the Grey, or Mithrandir." The wizard says in a deep voice, smiling at me.

"Gandalf. My name is Vivienne." I smile at him, patting down my dress in a vain attempt to get the crumples out. He nods at me, and I face Elrond.

"Elrond, is there something wrong? There is a man from Gondor, Legolas is here, and there are dwarves! Why in Valar are dwarves here if not for something important?"

Gandalf looks pointedly at Elrond, who smiles knowingly at me.

"Yes. A council."

A/N: Please leave comments, it motivates me haha! Constructive critisism is appreciated as well :)

Thank you for reading!!

Shay xx