(Number two of three chapters published today. Don't miss Dread and Deceit before this!)
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~ Rada and all of us missed you terribly, ~ Sebastian the hedgehog said, curling up in Faeriel's arms.
"I sense your pain," Faelas murmured to Faeriel from the next armchair over. "I am sorry." Faelas felt relieved he was out of Adamion's clutches... for now.... But it pierced his heart to know that Faeriel was hurting.
Faeriel gave Faelas a weak smile. She did not want to bring anyone else down. She still felt somewhat drained from the attack of earlier, but Arda had done much to restore her. Yet the dread of the attack was small compared with the gaping hole in her heart.
Faelas wondered if he might distract Faeriel from her obvious heartache. He wondered if it had something to do with the Prince, or with that dreadful attack.
"So this is your home? 'Tis like something out of a dream!" Faelas said, roaming his eyes over the whimsical baubles and knick knacks that adorned the wizard's treehome walls and spilled over hand-hewn tables and benches. Luna rested high atop a shelf as if she had been there before. ''It must have been wonderous to grow up here, surrounded by Ardalings. Could you always speak with them?''
"Oh-" Faeriel gasped, startled. "S-speak with them?"
"Yes, I heard you and Rusco speaking when we met. About my confusion," he chuckled, hoping to put her at ease.
Faeriel was spared any further worry on the matter as Radagast entered the living area. "Fear not, you can talk freely here. We have put wards up, and you can trust each other. Oh! This is so exciting! I'll get tea." He bustled off, leaving Faeriel staring in amazement. She had never been able to confide her secret in anyone before.
"Oh, ah, well, t-to answer your question," she said to Faelas shyly. "Yes. Rada only found me after I had grown many years. I was raised by Ardalings of fur and feather until then.'' Faeriel replied, ''What about you?''
''I only started hearing their voices when I met you," Faelas explained.
''Oh... So that is why you seemed so shocked at first, suddenly tuning in to so many beings' feelings at once.''
''And not just feelings, I sensed my perception shoot though roots and branches, through the underwoven fabric of Arda itself," Faelas recalled. He was happy this discussion seemed to be distracting Faeriel from her woes.
''Ah, yes," Faeriel smiled at him. "I felt something extraordinary too... an even deeper connection with Arda that began at that moment. But I sensed it was more potent for you. Perhaps from not experiencing them before. I wonder why we have these powers..."
"I think I might know why, Faeriel." Faelas smiled. Then he laughed. "Our parents had a funny way of naming us! I'm sure we were brought here to learn about this..."
"Our parents?" Faeriel gasped.
"The ninth of March. Our birthday."
Faeriel gaped. My parents mentioned another...
"I did some research... We are Fae. Fae Changelings, to be exact. Your necklace," he nodded toward it, pulling his own from the higher neckline of his tunic to show her. "It matches mine."
Faeriel leaned forward, peering with wide eyes, her hand coming up to clutch her pendant. "Oh my! W-wherever did you get it?"
"At the oaken cottage, in the forest, I think not far from here..."
"So did I!" A splash of excitement fizzed in her chest. But then the memories hit. Legolas holding her as she slept, comforting her after her nightmare, and those first days feeling the glowing warmth and tingly pleasures he wrought.
Faelas frowned, seeing her melancholy settle back around her like a cloud, and trying to think of something to distract her with again. He settled on the book, and what he had read about the Fae, though decided not to mention anything about Legolas reading it first.
"The book said that the Fae Changelings are kin to elves. They protect Arda, with powers of communicating and nurturing peace. Something about the elements, drawing power from them... And healing! I hope I can do that... If you don't mind my asking... Can you?"
Faeriel smiled slightly at his enthusiasm. "Yes."
''Well, if I can communicate in thought speech with Ardalings, perhaps I can also do that... But... I do wonder why it took me so long to realize my powers...''
Radagast twittered in, ''Faelas my dear fae, I do say, I am sorry. I did not like it one bit, but you see, it was for your safety.''
Faelas turned to regard the brown wizard. Rada appeared crestfallen.
Gandalf appeared in the sitting area. "As you have seen, Faelas, evil foes are likely to covet your Changeling essence. One such foe, tragically, is the reason you were orphaned to begin with," he revealed solemnly.
Faelas gazed glumly at the ground and Faeriel held Rusco to her heart, closing her eyes.
Radagast knelt before them, one hand on Faelas' and the other on Faeriel's. ''You both have suffered greatly, being removed from your nature, and each other. But we are here now to right the wrongs of the past and make up for lost time.'' He smiled at the twins, who looked back into his kind eyes, then to each other and half-smiled. ''Come, I've prepared your favorite for dinner Faeriel. We must gather our strength for the coming days.''
The two sat in Radagast's sitting area, having pumpkin pies with the wizards, Rusco, Sasha, Luna, and various Ardalings.
"My friends..." Gandalf said at last. "You are weary, and there is much to discuss on the morrow. I bid you good rest."
Rada gave Faeriel a huge hug, promising her that she would feel better soon. She felt quite certain she would not.
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Turning to Faelas, Radagast spoke. ''I'm afraid we're a bit short on beds at the moment. I'd offer to share but my snoring wouldn't bode well for your slumbers.'' He chuckled.
''That's perfect, I prefer to sleep in my hammock anyway, may I hang it betwixt the trees in your orchard?'' Faelas asked politely, digging into his rucksack and extricating what appeared to be a ball of woven vines.
''Of course, let me show you a good spot.''
As they walked around haphazardly placed berry bushes, Faelas communed with several fireflies who landed on the antlers he elected to bring forth, eliciting a happy smile from the wizard. When they reached some trees Faelas deemed appropriately spaced, he unfurled the vine ball and set to work lacing it up on the branches. Luna found a spot to roost in the tree branches.
''Pleasant slumbers my friend. You are safe here.'' Radagast reiterated. ''Hesitate not to rouse me should you need anything at all.''
After a stout hug, the wizard made for the cottage and the fae lay down in repose, loosening all the tightness his muscles accumulated over the day. He inhaled the warm night air deeply, held it for a moment, and then let it out gently. Again and again he breathed with stillness, growing more and more relaxed with each breath he took.
Until on one inhalation, a pleasant scent wafted over and he sniffed the air. It smelled of a cross between campfires and flowers, between grasses and earth. It smelled, delicious. The Changeling sat up, curious as to the source of the mysterious aroma. He swung out of his hammock and padded down the path back to the cottage.
He saw the sillhouettes of the wizards sitting upon the stoop and chuckling amongst themselves. An occasional wisp of smoke would rise from them.
''And don't forget the time when Saruman dropped that amulet in the bottle of ink and had to explain to the lord why it kept staining his tunic.'' The pair laughed.
''Ah Faelas,'' said Gandalf, ''how fare you this evening?''
''This most blissful sanctuary, it soothes my soul.'' Faelas replied, "I couldn't help but wonder what that scent is.''
''Ah, Old Toby, the finest vintage.'' Radagast said, as if Faelas knew what that was. ''Here, try some.'' He handed Faelas a small wooden bowl with a very long stem. It gave off a minute tendril of smoke and he studied it quizzically for a moment.
''Like so,'' Gandalf brought his own pipe to his lips and took a draw, then swirled it around in his mouth before puffing it out and closing his eyes.
Faelas set the pipe to his own lips, took a trumpet sized inhalation, and started hacking and wheezing immediately. ''Oh-'tis terrible! However do you manage?''
''Oh not like that,'' Radagast piped up. ''One does not inhale pipeweed into the lungs. Just take a small sip into the mouth, savor it, and let it out.''
Faelas took a few deep breaths of fresh air to steady himself and then with a determined look on his face drew at the pipe once more, this time in a much slower fashion. The exotic flavors danced across his tongue, imbuing a mysterious essence that was both titillating and rejuvenating.
''Fascinating. It is actually quite good.'' He remarked.
''Join us will you?'' Gandalf asked. ''There's more where that came from.'' He patted a pouch on his lap.
Faelas nodded with gratitude and sat down on the ground in front of them.
''We shall all discuss in the coming days, but I trust you have questions about the past and who you truly are, what you are capable of.'' Gandalf paused.
''Many I have indeed. I've read that Changelings can transform into another Ardaling at will. Do my antlers mean I will become a deer?'' Faelas took another sip of the pipe.
''It is most likely so, after all, such was the form your parents took.'' Radagast answered while Gandalf blew a respectable smoke ring.
''My parents. You said you knew them. What were they like?''
''Close friends they were.'' Gandalf said.
''Kind they were,'' said Radagast.
''Brave they were."
"Wise they were."
Gandalf took an extra long draw on the pipe and puffed out two plumes of smoke which melded into the crude forms of small deers who cavorted around each other in the air. ''Miss them greatly, we do.''
There was a long pause, lasting several minutes. All three sat in quiet contemplation, taking occasional puffs. The wizards appeared to be reminiscing in their minds and Faelas felt a bitter sweetness take his heart for the parents he never knew.
Radagast was the first to speak. ''Their names were Ellavan and Arassawë, and they have traveled the land far and wide, healing those in need and spreading the energy of Arda wherever they went. They inspired compassion, even in men. And when justice was to be dealt, they channeled the full might of Arda to see it through.''
After lengthy consideration Faelas asked, ''How did they die?''
The wizards both took a long draw at their pipes and looked at each other. Gandalf eventually sighed, ''We believe a great evil entity, one with whom even our powers have not yet been tested, discovered your secret home and set an army of foul spawn upon you all. Being of strong heart and will, they chose to send you and your sister where you could not be found. They gave their lives to save you, the last of your kind.''
The wizards smiled kindly on the young Fae as he processed what he heard. The pipeweed soothed his senses and helped him acknowledge the sorrow of the past without letting it burden him, and he felt a warm glow come from the pendant to his heart. With his pipe running empty, he passed it back to Radagast but was waved away.
''It is yours,'' said Rada, ''and here, take this too. Gandalf has given me a whole lot.'' He procured a pouch of pipeweed and passed it over. ''For the good times and the bad. This too shall pass.''
Faelas graciously accepted and, with a yawn, excused himself. Retreating to the orchard, he climbed into his hammock. Though he was worried about Faeriel, before long, the soporific sounds of the crickets pulled him peacefully into slumber.
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Back in her old alcove, Faeriel lay on her bed, crying silently. She had not confided the cause of her despondency in anyone except Rusco. But alas, special though he was to her, he had a much simpler way of living that didn't translate to the overcomplicated ways of the two leggeds.
Rusco tried to help, he truly did, but he kept insisting, "Just mate already and you'll feel much better." And "Just run away together and everything will be wonderful."
She could not sleep. She was still jumping out of her skin, which came in the form of pacing, sobbing, and falling to her hands and knees.
She felt so much pain and exhaustion that night that eventually, sometime before the dawn, she felt the glow from her pendant. It wrapped around her heart. The young fae climbed into bed, feeling strangely light and disconnected from everything. Nothing mattered, and she felt free, able to relax. She fell asleep comfortably bereft of emotion.
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"I don't know how to cheer her, Gandalf!" Radagast said in hushed tones. They sat in the garden, talking quietly so as not to waken Faelas in his nearby hammock. "She is normally so happy. She has never been like this." The brown wizard went on. "So bleak and dimmed, and, well, like an empty shell!"
"Ah, yes, I know. But take heart my friend." Gandalf told him. "I am just come from the Lady Galadriel some days ago. She has seen joy in her future. Joy for them both. And struggle, too. Let us hope this sorrow is rectified ere we begin their training." Then he smiled at the stars. "Methinks it will not take long..."
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Legolas felt bereft without Faeriel. He strode through the quiet halls that night, his mind poring over every joyous, and oft sensual, moment they had shared together. Most recently, Faeriel astride him in the meadow, her heat pressed to him...
How he loved Faeriel's gentle, compassionate heart, her selfless deeds... her sweet smile and bright, adoring eyes... and the pain etched in them as she was flown away. As the vision of her flashed in his mind's eye, he knew what he had to do.
"I know not what besets her," he told his oldest friend. "I am leaping out of my skin waiting for whatever time that I may see her, to find out what is wrong. And to pledge myself to her. My mind is made up. I am going to her, no matter what my father says."
"I will help you set up a party of guards to go come morning," Talishaya promised.
Legolas kicked himself mentally for not just asking the Istari if he could come. Now it would take over two days and nights to reach her at best, if they ran speedily and met no trouble.
"Wear this, my friend," Talishaya offered. "It will glow blue if evil approaches." She handed him a small clear crystal pendant. Legolas had told her of the imposter's attack and flight. Tali sensed with her shimmery foresight that her friend would reach his beloved safely, but she wanted to be sure.
Legolas thanked her, donning it and tucking it in his tunic. A corner of his lip turned up. "You are mysterious my friend. You see much. Tell me, will all be well soon?"
"You know in your heart already. A love like this cannot be hindered."
Legolas smiled fully, comforted.
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Faeriel was out in the verdant forest, ferns brushing her thighs as she stepped gently on the earth. Legolas walked by her side.
"Are you ready to tell me what is bothering you?" He murmured.
"I...cannot." She whispered.
"I am here for you...always."
A long silence stretched as they climbed deeper into the giant, gnarled trees.
A large tree beckoned Faeriel up into its boughs. She let herself lightly rest her back to the trunk as Legolas joined her.
Legolas stepped close. She could see him eying her gently with those fathomless crystals. "Glad am I we have this time together," said he, his voice quiet.
Faeriel could not meet his gaze, and tears formed in her eyes. She hoped he wouldn't notice.
"What is wrong?" He asked, stepping closer. His firm chest grazed her soft one as he leaned in, raising a thumb to swipe a tear from her cheek.
"Faeriel ...my wildling..." One hand still stroked her face softly. The other caught her waist.
Faeriel's heart stuttered. He was begging her. Softly. Calling her his wildling. Touching her face, her waist. Her body powerfully reacted, heating and tightening with desire, every nerve blazing with sweet fire, tremoring like the quaking of a mountain, cascading like a mighty falls. She looked down at her feet, though Legolas gently tried to tip her chin up.
"Did my father say something bad to you?" He whispered.
Her eyes shot up, widening. What?! How does he know?
He was so close, and even amid the darkness the look of recognition upon his stunningly handsome visage was obvious. Her face must have betrayed her. She cast her eyes down again. Legolas took a step closer, lightly pinning her to the tree, long fingers insistently guiding her to look at him.
"Tell me..."
Faeriel sighed shakily. What will the king do?
"Please," There was almost a sob in Legolas' voice. He leaned his forehead against hers. His sweet warm breath feathered over her face.
She couldn't lie to him...
"Yes..." she breathed.
"What did he say?" Legolas demanded. Then his voice softened. "Be not afraid. I shall let no harm come to you."
His body pressed a little more firmly to hers, his hands caressing her face and waist, heating her insides.
"He said..."
Legolas waited, patiently, as her fragmented mind formed the words.
"That..." She heard Legolas' breath catch slightly. She dreaded the next part, and let it out in a rush. The terrible words were burned in her mind. "That I was not good enough for you."
Faeriel felt his hands tighten.
"No!" He gasped. "Faeriel, my wildling....please, know this. You are good enough, more than that, you are perfect! You have my heart..."
Faeriel's breath shook and she trembled. Her whole body melted into a shimmering tingling puddle as Legolas surrounded her, leaning in...
But then it all faded, and she was awake. The moment the reality, the dread, sank in... It was the worst feeling in the world. Gone were her blessed happy dreams. She was returned to the realm of lonely pain... the nightmare. An unbearable abyss of misery which she never could have imagined, had she not felt it.
Maybe....a tiny voice hoped, maybe he disagrees with his father. Maybe he would want to be with me regardless of his father's wishes.
But he seemed so loyal to his realm and to his father. She could not ask him to turn his back on it all. She did not want to ruin his life. She would soon move on somewhere, and Legolas could go on with his life, unfettered by constantly needing to protect her.
For that is probably what it was. The wizards, who were wise, ancient and revered by the elves, had asked him to protect her. Legolas was simply doing his duty, and he had a naturally protective and caring nature. He protected the innocent and vulnerable from evil.
Alas, in her current state of anguish, she entirely failed to recall all the tender moments Legolas had chosen to share with her that extended far beyond the duties of any protective ward.
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The next morning, Faeriel lay under a shrub in the garden, hugging Legolas' jerkin to her breast. Where once she beheld a profusion of color and texture, all the plants seemed bleak, gray, devoid of color or dimension. Nalie the deer stood nearby, grazing, sending her worried looks with her dark, soulful eyes. The many Ardalings who crawled under the bush to nose her hopefully brought her no comfort, nor did the sight of chicks and baby bunnies gamboling with Faelas beyond in the field.
"Legolas..." she whispered, over and over, her voice almost hysterical, broken by quiet, wracking sobs. "Legolas..."
Pain beyond enduring slashed in vicious waves through the aching void of emptiness that was her earthly vessel, oft forcing her to her hands and knees as she wept.
"Legolas... Legolas... Legolas..." Faeriel feverishly repeated in a soft, broken voice, her heart plummeting every time he did not appear.
The feeling of crawling out of her skin every other moment would not abet. She desperately wished to vanish... to fade into unconsciousness and never come out... unless things could go back to the way they were.
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Legolas had just assembled a small number of guard to accompany him, Talishaya among them, when his Adar came out, demanding to know what was afoot. Legolas groaned. He had intended to ask for forgiveness rather than permission. If the King vetoed his orders there would be none to help him reach Faeriel.
His beloved's broken, haunted face as she flew away was seared on his retinas. His mind was made up. She needed him.
"Adar, I must go. Send guards with me if you will. But I must go."
"Why?"
"I will not now say. It is my own matter."
"Your orders are to stay. It is perilous beyond our gates."
"Thousands of years I have done as you bade me. Now, I must do this one thing for myself." And with that, Legolas strode out of the courtyard.
Thranduil stared after his son with eyes of glacier blue. He could not bring himself to catch and cage his wayward child, but fear filled him. For if the prophecy came true, Faeriel would die, and then, Legolas would fade.
"Follow him," Thranduil commanded. "Protect him on his journey."
The Elvenking bowed his head, praying that his son would be safe. It seemed his heart was already given. And Thranduil knew that love was a force unstoppable in life... and even, in death, though it hurt bitterly.
Legolas clutched the vial of protection Talishaya had given him. He had not made it far down the path when a sudden keening cry pierced the crisp morning air, and a great whooshing swoop followed. And then ahead he saw the most peculiar sight. None other than Gwaihir the Wind Lord himself, with Rusco clinging to his back.
Gwaihir crouched, nodding to Legolas. "Your mate is inconsolable. Rusco and I shall take you to her."
"My mate," Legolas mouthed the words. Hope blossomed in his chest. Talishaya, Gwaihir, and Rusco were honoring Faeriel and he as soulmates.
The startled cries of the guard were lost in the wind of great feathers as Gwaihir bore the two beings away. Talishaya peered after them, smiling.
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It was after many whispered repetitions of Legolas' name that she felt it. A pull, from somewhere off in the trees. She cared little for what happened to her, but at Gandalf's behest that Arda needed her kept safe, she would not stray far. She sensed Rada's enchantments glimmering strong all around her, so she followed the pull. Tears began to fall again, streaking down her face.
"Legolas..." Faeriel wept, weaving plaintively through the trees, tear riddled eyes darting about as if she might find him just behind a trunk, waiting to embrace her. But he was leagues away in his stronghold.
It was with a great shock then that she heard his voice.
"Faeriel?" The warm tones wafted through the air.
Then all of a sudden, there he was, his handsome form undulating in her watery vision. Larger he grew, coming closer, until she felt a soft touch upon her arm. Faeriel blinked, trying to clear the tears so she could see his beautiful face. Warm fingers slid across her wet cheeks.
Faeriel's once bright eyes were still horribly dim and faded. Legolas' heart clenched as she turned her face into his touch, closing her spilling eyes, lips trembling, anguish written clear upon her features. Still brushing away her tears, he spoke. "I could not be parted from you Faeriel."
Seeing him this close wrenched her broken heart but Faeriel could not tear her eyes from his beauty. As his eyes flickered all about her visage, she saw and felt the pain in him. His gaze dipped suddenly lower.
"You are hurt!" He breathed.
Yes, very hurt, she thought. But then she followed his gaze, and noticed a red scratch ran along the top of her busom near her heart. She must have run askance of a branch and not noticed. Usually so small a scratch would heal almost instantly, but now, little drips of blood had dried below it.
Faeriel peered up to see Legolas leaning closer. His beloved scent washed over her. He examined the wound closely, his thick eyelashes lowered, fingers skimming the skin around it, lips puckered and eyebrows drawn in that adorable way of his, long hair brushing across her arm. Bittersweet she felt under his tender ministrations. She longed for more of his affection but knew she was unworthy.
Legolas met her eyes, his expression rich with emotion. "I know it shall heal quickly but...Will you allow me to tend it for you?"
"Yes," she whispered. She watched as he ventured forth for a strand of usnea which he crushed in his fingers. How she loved his strong, shapely hands. His eyes flitted to hers as he carefully applied the stringy moss. Her cheeks burned as she met his gaze, thankful just then that he could not read her mind.
"Breathe," Legolas advised, cutting through her thoughts.
"Am I not?" Faeriel let out breathlessly, and she then noticed, he was quite right. She remembered all the times this very exchange had happened before... She drew a deep breath.
Legolas smiled softly at her again, an act which forever melted her in every way. More than anything, she wished she were good enough to suit him...but she now knew she was neither royal nor even fair enough to wed the heir to the kingdom.
Soft words in their elven tongue filled her ears then. His low melodic voice pierced her spirit, and as though surface pain ebbed under his ministrations, her heart panged with longing and sorrow.
"Thank you," said she, turning away quickly, fearing she might weep to be so close to the angel who was not hers to embrace.
Alarmed by her prolonged melancholic reticence, Legolas moved so that he faced her again. He watched her twist the hem of her tunic to the point where he thought she might tear it. His frown deepened. Enough. I must have her tell me what is wrong.
Faeriel quickly cast her eyes to the ground. She watched him draw closer to her, his chest coming into view. She noted every detail in his tunics and quiver strap, and the immaculate braids in his shiny hair. It was so soft she knew. How she longed to touch it.
Warm fingers met her chin and tilted her gaze up to meet star hewn sapphires. Faeriel's breath caught in her throat and something in her chest contracted with a sharp twist. He was too beautiful. As ever, his skin, eyes and hair seemed to glow with starlight from within. Her heart drummed wildly as warm, bittersweet flutters suffused her from head to toe.
"I have come to find out what grieves you, Faeriel... Why do you now act so distant with me?" Legolas asked her, his gaze flitting between her eyes as if seeking to draw the answers from her soul. "I thought we had grown closer than that."
Pain wracked his eyes and a plaintive note tremored in his voice. His fingers lingered upon her cheek in the barest hint of a caress, and the warmth of them seemed to suffuse throughout her entire body, banishing the cool spring air.
She opened her mouth noiselessly, too stunned to respond as Legolas bequeathed her an encouraging smile. The light of the woodland danced in his eyes, yet a hint of vulnerability hid behind their smile.
Legolas cupped her jaw more deeply in his strong fingers. A tremor ran through her at the subtle pressure of each warm fingertip. Briefly, subtly, he grazed her earlobe. Her lips parted with a shaky breath... that had felt ineffably good.
After a pause in which Legolas searched her face, gaze dipping to her mouth once before lingering upon her eyes, he tried again. "Please, Faeriel... I entreat you. What is this about?"
Faeriel flinched. She didn't know what to say. She had her order from the King. And in her heart she too feared she was not perfect enough for Legolas.
Legolas sighed. "You are not yourself. You have pulled away from me. I sense such terrible sorrow in you..." he paused, gaze flickering around her face before settling on her eyes again. "Please, can I know why?" His expression was pleading, his voice low, raspy and beautiful. "Please Faeriel... Please..."
"Legolas..." she started, and stopped, stunned into silence again by the depths of feeling shining in his eyes.
"Please, Faeriel," Legolas implored. "Please, speak to me. Tell me what is wrong."
She began to look away, tears welling in her eyes, but Legolas bid her look at him, pressing his fingers gently but insistently upon her cheek.
"Am I not the one you care for?" he asked bluntly, his eyes searching, his voice soft.
Her heart jumped hopefully at his question. The one. Yes you are the one. A bubble of hope swelled at his choice of words... Perhaps he does carry feelings for me! But then, all the reasons she was not good enough began to hit her like poisoned orc arrows.
Faeriel took his hand from where it cupped her face and held it in hers, staring at it sadly. Swallowing against the knot in her throat, she half whispered, "You are the heir of the Woodland Realm, Legolas. I am not fair or noble enough. My cares matter not."
"Althand!" Legolas uttered, grimacing in dismay. He shook his beautiful head. "Not true! Ai, Faeriel..." The hand she held curved around hers and the other came up too, interlacing their fingers as he went on. Gently he squeezed her hands.
"Forgive me. I knew not that your mind had been twisted in this way. Had I known it I would have set you straight." Legolas paused, waiting for her to look up at him. "'Nobility' matters not. Why should it? It is a heirarchal fabrication, a family tree, an artifice of old. Leaders have their place, but in matters of the heart, blood matters not." He spoke firmly, glaring into the forest as he spoke, brows drawn, heavy frustration spilling from his voice.
But when he met her eyes again, his gaze softened, a different passion rising in his tone. "And I beg thee, Faeriel, know this. In my eyes, nary a one shines as bright and as fair as she who stands before me. And to me, her cares shall forever matter."
She gaped in awe as he gave this speech. His glimmering eyes brimmed with that tender smile she so loved as he stepped closer, keeping her hands held gently in his. His thumbs skated over her knuckles, sending a lovely flutter to tickle at her ribs. It curled deeper, coiling in her core. His warm sweet breath feathered over her upturned face. Dare she believe what she was hearing and seeing?
Steadfastly, Legolas forged on, "I see your eyes alight when our gaze meets." Legolas gazed deep into her eyes as he spoke, still smiling warmly.
Legolas squeezed her hand in his and brought his free hand up to cup her jaw again, caressing gently, fingers straying so, so close to her tingly ear that her breath caught in her throat.
"I have felt your skin grow warm and tremble at my touch." His bright eyes traveled from her fluttering lashes down to her trembling lips and back again.
"I know our meeting was less than one moon past... And yet... We have grown closer, through peril, and peaceful moments, under the stars... Hope has grown in me that I could tell you at last..." He paused again and a wistful smile pulled at the corners of his lips. "Gi melin. It means, I love you. And I think your heart returns it... Tell me, Faeriel, if I am mistaken."
Faeriel stared, open mouthed, upon hearing those three words, I love you. Her heart leapt and bubbled. A small nervous frown appeared on his handsome features as he awaited her response, making her chest wobble and contract.
"You are not mistaken, Legolas," she gasped quickly, tears forming in her eyes as she swelled, giddy and practically floating outside of herself. "Gi melin," she repeated in her soft voice that shook with emotion.
A great surge of warmth billowed up in Legolas, and all his limbs were light. A glow engulfed his heart and, rising like a tide, spread throughout the whole of him.
But amid the revelry of mind and spirit, he noticed a crease appear in her sweet brow.
"What trouble now besets your heart, Faeriel?" Legolas uttered softly, tracing her furrowed brow with his thumb as if to smooth it.
She still held his hand in her own, and her eyes fell to it, pain drenching her next whisper. "But...how could you take me as yours? Y-your Father said...."
"My father?!" Legolas' voice turned suddenly sharp. "What did he say to you?!" Barely suppressed rage flickered in his tone and upon his face.
Startled, Faeriel raised her gaze. She bit her lip, staring into his wide blue eyes crowned by two dark thunderous slashes. What would happen if Thranduil found out she told Legolas what he said? But... tell him she must. Lies were not in her nature.
Faeriel's quiet voice shook as she finally confessed the truth behind her strange behavior. "He said I was..." the horrible words were burned in her brain, and she watched now as Legolas' fair face contorted more severely with every word she spoke. "Unworthy of a Prince, th-that I...That I...should s-stay away from you." Her voice cracked upon the last word.
Legolas' mouth dropped open and his eyes grew wider than ever she had seen them. Then he turned his head to the side, brows slamming down and jaw clenching hard. A muscle high in his cheek tensed and a low growl rumbled in his throat. Faeriel shivered.
Legolas turned back, brows knit tightly, scowling, mouth opening to speak. How-what-why would- But then he caught sight of Faeriel's expression. He closed his mouth and drew a deep breath in through his nose. He swiftly softened his expression, eyes shimmering with renewed warmth as they gazed deep into hers. He caught her waist in one hand, pulling her close, while raising the other to stroke her shy curls from her forehead.
"Faeriel...my sweet wildling..." Pain filled his eyes as he spoke, his voice meltingly soft and tender. "When did he say this?"
"W-when the wizards arrived. He spoke it in my mind," Faeriel stammered quietly.
"In your mind?" Legolas questioned, his expression contorting with shock.
"Yes."
"Do you mean. In your mind like Rusco speaks to you?"
"Yes," Faeriel whispered.
Legolas frowned deeply, shaking his head. "That is not possible. Only bonded elves can speak in minds."
"Bonded?"
"Yes... Elves who have joined fully in... love."
"Oh... then why would he have spoken to me thus?"
"I know not... but methinks..." Legolas frowned, something occurring to him. "Methinks it was not him. Perhaps it was some trick of malice... a device of that banished demon, to weaken you, to carve you apart from my company, my protection!"
Faeriel looked down at his chest, heart pounding with hope. Maybe I am good enough for Legolas... "So... King Thranduil would not say that?"
Legolas did not respond immediately, but he stroked her cheek and palm. "He lost the only one with whose mind he could share thought. My mother. And I do not think he would say this to you besides. My father's heart may be hardened, shrouded in a winter's frost that does not thaw, but he is not cruel. Still, if he opposed our union, we would depart the kingdom, find refuge elsewhere."
Our union. Those two words shone light into the abyss. Hope dared to bob back up to the surface. Her eyes rose to his, wide as saucers. "You would do that, for me? You could do that?"
"Of course...the ill doer is banished. I have no special skills the realm requires that others do not possess. My father's halls shall be safe for now. If he cannot respect my heart in the end, I shall not remain. I can help Middle-earth elsewhere."
Faeriel's gaze fell to his braids, biting back tears. Her heart threw itself against her ribs as reality, blessed reality began to sink in to her previously hopeless mind.
"Please, look at me." Legolas urged, voice low and whispery but insistent. His fingertips tilted her chin up, but her lashes fluttered with pleasure as he slid upward to softly caress the side of her face.
"Faeriel..." Legolas breathed. "My wildling..."
Faeriel's emeralds fluttered open, locking with his sapphires where boundless affection gleamed. Legolas stroked her waist and cradled her jaw, thumb caressing her cheek just as his eyes stroked her soul. Joy bubbled up like a fresh spring, washing away the miasma of despair.
"Faeriel...." He paused, sighing. "I should have told you sooner." He smiled. His beautiful low voice was soft and extra whispery. "I loved you since first I saw you, and I shall love you for all eternity. Gi melin... I love you. Gi melin, Faeriel, my sweet wildling."
Faeriel gazed deep into his eyes, blinking in astonishment at what she saw radiating from his spirit. The truth. And then, all the terrible hurt at his father's alleged words and her own self doubt evaporated like mist in the sun.
Adoration shone clear as crystal in his sparkling blue eyes. Adoration and... love. Faeriel understood now. Unequivocally, Legolas would let nothing stand in their way. He loved her, and that was all that mattered.
She remembered it from the great poems. When an elf pledged their love to another, they only did so when they were certain they were The One. Once the love was given, their spirits became bonded, and from there the connection deepened.
"You have my heart, Faeriel. I shall love you forever! And I cannot wait any longer!" Emotion roughened his voice, turning it extra husky and low as the words tumbled like a waterfall.
His eyes burned into hers, their smoldering heat seeping into her, warming her from the inside out. Legolas caressed her cheek and closed one warm hand just above her hip. Faeriel stifled a moan as a tremor ran through her at the subtle pressure of each warm fingertip. His sensual gaze and touch made her hot, as did the earthy roughness in his voice. He went on, commencing what would forever be her favorite lesson in Edhellen... for it was so much more than words.
"Gi melin, Faeriel... I love you. Le i velethril e-guil nîn. You are the love of my life."
Faeriel's heart turned over and a cascade of warmth set her alight. Legolas was not finished, and eagerly she clung to every beautiful, husky word passing through his handsome mouth.
"Annon i veleth nîn allen. I give you my love. Ni *mestathol? Ni melathog n'uir? Will you wed me? Will you love me for eternity?
The words flashed through her mind, glowed in her heart, and streaked along her nerves like lightning illuminating a steamy summer's night. Legolas loves me. Forever. For eternity. Her lips trembled into a radiant smile as tears leaked from her eyes. He loves me!
"Oh Legolas... Gi melin. I love you! I shall forever love you! You have my heart!"
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This is from our "our tropes" IRL Instagram post, many of which apply in this book but I won't tell you which!
Are you as ECSTATIC as us?! 😍 Next chapter should be coming today too, we are soon to complete it. What do you think will happen next? 😏
(By the way-hopefully adding more photos to today's three chapters eventually. These 25,000 words this week have been a lot, and our upload internet is scarcely working at current camp 😊)