Author's Note:
This is a LegoRomance (slow-burn)
Thank you for the reviews it means a lot. All the support aids me to write the next chapter. I hope you will enjoy this chapter. And I cannot wait to post the next one; that should be an interesting chapter! Enjoy!
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Outskirt of Lothlórien - 12 September 3018 TA
There were no trees like the trees of Lothlórien. There was a place in the Lothlórien where the river met the holly trees. The water formed a protective arc as those ancient trees form what was called a fairy ring. There was something magical about it. In the middle of it all was an old mallorn tree, gnarled by the years with heaven bound limbs that dance in the air. Underfoot was nature's compost, the leaves never swept but giving their nutrients to feed the soil, the roots, the canopy above. And always there was the sound of the river, the golden of the leaves and the yellow flowers on the ground.
The wounded elf was leaning against the old mallorn tree, his eyes were closed and his hands touched against the earth, trying to slowly regain some of his stamina and power from the force that was provided by nature itself. The camp fire was crackling, thus resulting in wisps of gray smoke to curl free into the cloudy night sky.
Glorfindel came across of plenty potential deaths, injuries and blood. He has experienced such a thing once, he couldn't help but be a bit circumspect about it all. Not this though; Legolas was severe injured by simple orc. Legolas was a warrior, captain of Mirkwood and the son of Thranduil. There was no time to analyze the details, much less to think. Regardless, something else caused Legolas to be careless.
"I did not expect this," the elf talked surprised while he was observing the young lady that was walking towards the small spring that was close by to clean her face "You weren't that careless even as an elfin."
"It could be worse than this," his words were literally and figuratively a cold comfort, because things could always end up worse. "It could have killed the dwarf, that would be deterrent enough," he reflected, "it would bring though some peace and quite." It was a random thought spoken out loud, but brought a fading smile to his lips.
Glorfindel gazed at Legolas with one eyebrow up and an amazed expression on his face "Dwarf?" he quizzed staring now at the dark haired female who was still trying to clean the blood and mud from her hands and face "Isn't she too tall and hairless to be one?"
Legolas clasped insufficiently over his aching wound on his shoulder, before he answered with a hiding laugh in between "She is a half-breed. Dwarf and something else, human I do not know. We aren't exactly in friendly terms. She hates me!"
"Hates you?" the Prince of Gondolin wandered confused "She's not even fully grown to know what hates is Legolas. I understand that dwarves and elves despise each other, disregarding hate is a strong word. What have you done to breed such strong emotions to the she-dwarf?"
His strength was rapidly leaving his weary body, but it was tempting not to try answering his question, "I cannot neglect if my actions are the reason of her dislike, she didn't say." Legolas tried to open his eyes even if he felt his eyelids becoming heavier "She has wounded me in Imladris, and her hands rest against her weapons only by looking at me. I believe my father and I are the reason of her loathing. However, I do not know the story."
"Useless elf," Glorfindel commended with a smile "You were wounded by a dwarf-child? And I was surprised that an Orc managed to hurt you! You became just useless."
"Young adult," Legolas corrected him while noting the golden-elf to cock his head in confusion and he explained "She doesn't like to be called a child..."
"That is interesting, a female who is not drooling over the Prince of Mirkwood, and Legolas, who knows what she likes and dislikes," Glorfindel spotted turning now his attention from the she-dwarf over to Legolas. "Have you asked her, about her kin or family? Anything that could trigger your memory?"
Legolas acted indifferent at his tone, not wanting to add more to the fire. "She hails from the House of Durin, Glóin has been like a father to her, but I do not know who her real father is. I guess he was a dwarf, and maybe a dwarf I once knew. She has been very interested in the Quest of Erebor, maybe her father was related to Thorin or maybe was Thorin himself. Her mother could be human, since her appearance is far off that of a dwarf. However, her manners are worse of any dwarf I have known." he indicated in a low tone.
"Interesting," the golden-elf said "Thorin Oakenshield's bloodline then, the King under the Mountain left behind heir." He paused and inspected the she-dwarf, who managed to clean her face, hair and hands. "Human she cannot be Legolas, if you look closely, under the mud and dirt, she is far fair from any human or dwarf I know. Have you considered the mother could be an elf maiden?"
It was a fruitless thought, one amongst innumerable that flitted across his consciousness as he lay against the tree. Legolas took a sharp breath, "I must say, I have, and that though troubles me, Glorfindel." It was a strange thought, one that sprang alive in his mind when Awarthie started asking him about Tauriel. Legolas wasn't a fool, he noticed her agony in her questions. He continued "Kili, nephew of Thorin, who was the elder brother of their mother, I believe, and Great-grandsons of Thrór. While imprisoned by us, he and Tauriel fell in love. The time they spent together was unbelievable little, however, it is not impossible that they bonded." Legolas sighed "My prediction is she could be the daughter of Tauriel and Kíli, half Dwarf and half Silvan-Elf."
"That's real love, that's the truth," the golden-elf acknowledged "A he-dwarf from House of Durin and a she-elf from Mirkwood bonded and even having offsprings. I cannot argue Legolas it seems possible, but at the same time foreign to me. Durin's folk and Mirkwood had never the best relationships. Being attracted to each other is possible, but ending up with child, I don't know. You know how difficult it is for an elf maiden to be with child. It can take centuries. Despite your travel companion has a unique beauty than no human or dwarf would hold. If your assumptions are correct, then you must know why the young one loathes you?"
Because the gods don't want to get bored and play with our destiny, he thought, helplessly wryly. Because for all the luck and curse of it, the gods have seen it fit to bless him with a decent sense of humor. "Something must have happened to Tauriel that involves my father and me, I'm guessing she must have witnessed it." Legolas gazed at the golden fallen leaves as he lowered his gaze "I haven't had any news about Tauriel since the day she left Mirkwood. I am concerned for her well being, and that my father and I are involved without us knowing. And I do not believe the young one is going to trust me enough and share that knowledge with me any time soon."
"She almost cost your life, and I believe she knows it," he spoke next, "Legolas you have to talk with her. If what you suspect is true, this cannot continue. Try to speak with the child those few days you will need to heal. It will keep your mind busy." The golden he-elf skipped next to Legolas "However, I sense there is more you aren't telling me?"
Legolas lifted his gaze and met his, "Tauriel, wasn't only captain of the Elven guard of Thranduil's Woodland Realm, she was also a very close and trusted friend of mine. If the dwarf is her daughter," Legolas tormented by the thought he had just acknowledged "Alas, what have we done to the child to loathe us so much? What has happened to Tauriel?"
Glorfindel rested his hand against Legolas unharmed shoulder, "Legolas, long have I lived in this world and let me be wiser than you Prince of Mirkwood. You already care about Awarthrie. You ended up seriously wounded, you should be resting, but you keep speaking about her." A fading laugh escaped his lips "Thranduil will not be pleased, when he figures out that his only son and heir of the throne is fond of half dwarf, even one who has some Silvan blood. Talk with the child, and clear your head. Because Prince of the Woodland Realm I do believe you are attracted to her, and that cannot be."
Legolas narrowed his eyes and almost leaped up ready to attack the golden-elf, never in his life was he offended like that. "Glorfindel, why are you insulting my intelligence. I am an Elf and the Prince of Mirkwood, such a union is an abomination. An elf and a dwarf bonding, is the worst insult! How could an Elf, an Elf from Mirkwood match with Durin's she-dwarf. I would prefer to kiss an Orc, only in the thought to be paired with the she-dwarf!"
"You tree-hugging-bastard" Awarthrie interjected firmly, eyes narrowing at him in warning, glaring at him. The purpose of a glare was to convey to the deep self of the other emotional indifference, the opposite of love, to show danger in a place of safety and a capability for cruelty. That was the glare she shared with him, brown eyes meeting blue and chaos was unleashed.
"You," she shouted with all her strength, that was the moment she realized she'd misinterpreted his actions, his words, his expressions "I started to believe I was wrong. That my preconceived opinion that was not based on reason or actual experience. You tricked me, you are a shameless-cunning-pixie!"
Silence was a fine tailor when your thoughts are silken thread. Legolas froze when he became aware of the she-dwarf facing him. Once again, she managed to sneak so close without him hearing her. Legolas was doubt founded, at the turn of the events. They had just found common ground to communicate and he had managed to ruin everything. He was in shock when Glorfindel spat out that Legolas was fond of her, that in his need to protect his pride, he ended up insulting Awarthie and her mother.
His hands grabbed against the tree-trunk and he pulled up his weary body, towering now upon the dwarf-girl and still leaning against the trunk to keep his balance. "Awarthrie wait," he exhaled holding his injured shoulder that was aching him from the sudden movement "I didn't mean,"
Smack!
A blow was delivered with her open hand against Legolas pale face. His right cheek became redder as she lowered her hand, still glaring deadly at him. "I hate you," she screamed and it was the kind of scream that bypasses the ears to speak right to the heart, "it's a pity that the arrow didn't kill you, elf!" She spat on him and turned around sharing a glace with the golden-elf, before she turned and started running away.
Legolas clanged now against his wound, ignoring the slap that was just delivered by the dwarf. He started following her stumbling behind her "Wait!" he cried out after her. But the stubborn dwarf kept running. "Stop!" he groaned as few of his stitches broke and his wound was bleeding again. Legolas ignored the increasing pain trying to catch her.
Glorfindel didn't follow them, he only shook his head in disbelieve. His early opinion had just found solid ground, and that thought worried him. Because now he started believing that not only the prince had fallen, but the young dwarf was bewitched by Legolas even if she swore that she loathed him.
(( Next Act:15 Silent whispers, and Silent tears))