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She didn't hear Legolas' voice anymore after that and they resumed their stilted walk to Lothlorien's palace in tensioned silence.
"I have brought the Fellowship, my lady." The captain of the guard had announced with all the authority and genteel of a chivalrous Knight.
Lady Galadriel allows herself a well-bred chuckle at her child's antics, "My darling, you know that you are as much a guard as you are our child whenever you are in our presence. There is no need for such formalities. Although," her sentence hangs in the air and Celine feels a slight trepidation at the smile her mother had given her.
Seriously, even if one is to say that it lingered somewhere in the borderline of wistfulness and mischief, it leans dangerously too close to the latter that it's beginning to make her wary.
Celine wonders whatever on earth did she do to deserve this impending death sentence.
"It is only proper for you to reveal yourself in front of our guests, am I right?" One of her elegantly long arms stretched out for her to take as she descended the stairs and landed in front of her.
A sigh escaped her lips at this, there's no going out of this one for her. But that doesn't mean she wouldn't harm an attempt. She'll take whatever chance she'll get no matter how futile,
"Nana..." Came her silent plea.
Do not despair, my child, the valars had meant for this meeting to happen, her voice had whispered soothingly within the confines of her head.
Gingerly rising to her feet, she harmed a glance at her father to ask him for assistance. As expected, Lord Celeborn was all-in with his wife and only replied with a cryptically encouraging smile of his own and she knew it.
"It could not be helped then," she sighed once again, figures she'll do so more often now than she did all these years she had learned to keep her emotions in check and hidden behind walls of either cold indifference or discreet mischief.
Reaching one hand up, Celine finally pulled the hood of her cloak off her head and turned to the Fellowship, all the while avoiding those pair of piercing hues threatening to pull her in and back to drown her in all those feelings that had laid dormant and piled up in the farthest corner of her mind.
Resisting the urge, she held her head up high. Strands of blue twisted in braids to hold her hair in its customary bun, one that she does often now that her life revolves around battle and she couldn't have the troublesome tresses falling freely behind her back to tangle on branches or used by enemies against her will in fights.
"Celine Silverheart, Captain of Lothlorien's guards, at your service, my lords." She outstretched her left hand to her side before pulling it back in and placing it on top of her heart in a flourish and a bow.
When she finally rose her head, her lavender eyes locked with blues by some merciless stroke of luck and she was forced to smile a secret smile that had and would always be full of love, hope and dedication despite of how maturity had caught up with both her heart and mind.
And yes, I still love you. Then and again.
Up until now even when the times had changed, the tides had turned and she's no longer the person he had known from before.
She still loves him.
And she monotonously voiced it out loud for her twisted sense of entertainment.
The guards practically dropped their weapons in a cacophony of clatters as it made contact with the stone floors of the elven hall; Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel could barely keep their faces straight and the whole Fellowship is a mess of gawks and befuddled faces.
Legolas' face looked brighter than a ripe tomato.
Celine snickered and excused herself, leaving everyone else to gather themselves from the awkwardness she had thrown them in.
Just as their daughter had disappeared around the corner, Lady Galadriel helplessly shook her head, making her disbelief evident in her actions.
"What was that?" Merry, one of the hobbits, had spoken up in an attempt to break the ice.
"Aye, I don't know myself, wee lad." Gimli shook his head and looked up at their elvish companion for answers.
Legolas could only shake his head in uncertainty, not willing to let anyone else in in that gentle promise that she had spoken.
-----
Celine found herself shooting arrows that night. Hitting the same bull's eye on different targets in varying angles and distances.
Upon deciding to be a swordmaster, she made it a point that she'll not only hone herself with the sword but with various other weaponry as well. Just so that she won't be helpless without her expertise and rendered defenseless and at the disposal of the enemy just because she couldn't hold anything better than a sword.
That means she'll have to deal with the bow and arrow after she finished mastering every form of blades and hand-to-hand combat in a failed attempt to avoid it.
Who could blame her anyways. Give her a bow to hold and she'll remember a ghost of a pair of hands steadying her aim and a body behind her that straightens her posture and sets her foot in the right place. She'll hear a captivatingly deep voice instructing her on how she's supposed to aim and to take a deep breath before shooting.
Nevertheless, it was one of the many reasons why she'd been recognized as a real threat with not only the sword and any other form of weaponry, but especially in archery as well.
It's just about the only memory of the ellon she loved -and still does- that she could take without doubling and turning back to the hurting little love-sick girl she had and always will be in the darkest most untouched corners of her mind.
Not even when she tried so hard all of these years to be resilient, hardcore, independent, tough and nonchalant.
"You have excelled so much with the bow, hiril vuin."
And that was all it took to halt her exemplary ruthless performance in the training grounds.
Mentally cursing as she almost stumbled on the flat surface of the floor underneath her should it not be for her harnessed reflexes, Celine didn't waste a single second in swiftly recollecting herself and unsheathing her sword from her back by her freehand.
"Why thank you, my dear prince."
In the blink of an eye, she drew it and aimed for the prince's throat, stopping a mere inch from actually severing a nerve, a threatening smirk plastered on her face as her lavender eyes glinted dangerously,
"But might I remind you. It's not 'my lady'."
"Then what shall I call you then?" The blond prince had taken a cautious step back while trying to keep his tone and face calm and unreadable. It didn't actually take him long to realize that this Celine is much too unpredictable and erratic than the one he knew before that he wouldn't entirely cross out the possibility that a single wrong move could get himself killed even within elvish territory.
Sensing the ellon's discomfort and apprehension, she quickly drew back and sheathed her sword, turning her back on him as she busied herself with packing up the blades and arrows she used for practice.
"I think that one's for you to figure out." She half-turned and called out to see the prince's scrutinising blue hues fixated on something she must've left lying on the ground.
And upon further inspection, she realized it was the pin that Thorin had given her the last time she saw him.
One of the few objects she is very protective of.
Stomping over to where the Sindarin elf is, she quickly snagged the item from the ellon's palm and clasped it in it's usual place on her hair.
"Is that the same gift that dwarf king had given you?" He asked a little too distastefully as he glared at the object and let his now idle hand fall to his side.
Celine narrowed her eyes at the underlying hostility she could sense from the elf,
"He has a name, you know. It had already been years and I thought that The Battle of Five Armies would at least drill down a lesson or two in your systems to help you determine who your real enemies are, but it seems like I had been expecting a little too much from everyone."
Legolas shook his head, "I do not have anything against dwarves. I have been travelling with one for days on this quest I had chosen to partake in." He stated coolly, clearly unaware of why the girl was suddenly this protective of the dwarven race in general.
"And on how many of those days had you spent harmoniously working with Gimli instead of openly arguing with him?" She challenged, not liking how her blood is starting to boil with just this late night conversation at all.
On other times -let's say a couple of years back- it would've actually been pleasant or she would at least look forward to and enjoy every second of it as she tried to make it the most comfortable for the two of them, but now, that's just not the case anymore.
She curled her hands into fists and let anger take control of her because if she wouldn't, that damned helpless yearning would take over and she'll be saying those words earnestly all over again regardless of his response and it would just be stupid.
"I am tryi-"
"I am failing to notice how this matter concerns me or how what I may think of you concerns you." Her infuriated words had cut him off, wanting to get out of this situation as fast as she could as she slung all of her things around her shoulders and began to stalk off.
Their shoulders slightly brushing as she passed by his still form.
"Who is he to you?" He suddenly asked, eyes fixed on the mangled targets before him as if they would provide him with answers.
She could feel her footsteps halt in their own accord, "Who is what to me?"
Legolas cleared his throat, seeming to weigh the word within his mouth if the question was worth it before letting it stumble pass his lips, "Oakenshield."
Celine couldn't see him from where she had her back turned on him but she could hear the uncertainty and the desire to be answered in the mere tone he used as well as the way his voice had faltered and failed him in between certain syllables.
So she did provide him an answer, only, in the sole way she knows her present self could at the moment.
"As I had said before, I continue to fail to comprehend how that matter concerns you in any way at all," a sigh, a pause and a few loud heartbeats she wouldn't claim as hers, "but, if you must truly know. Thorin is more than just a simple ally for me, he is my best friend and my confidante. Definitely nothing less, as much as it is nothing beyond that." She finished with a half-turn from where she saw nothing but the prince's back, giving out not a single clue as to whether he was listening or what, and so she decided to press her luck.
As she was just about to open her mouth to begin, a quiet and contented sigh escaped the blond ellon's own lips along with a thoughtful hum afterwards. He seemed to look at something in the heavens before his gaze landed on the ground beneath his feet and straight towards the targets once more, not once turning to acknowledge her.
Finding not a single harm in letting one of her trials slip pass her consciousness at the time, she breathed out. Solemnly and as pure as the way she had spoken it years ago before the heart breaks had caught up with her and anguish had poisoned parts of her soul,
"I still love you, you know. And I'm still not even a quarter near a million."
A bitter smile had spread across her lips at the lack of a reply. Maybe a rejection there and then might've even be better would've helped her cope up with the recap of another loss instead of having to wander through vagueness once again.
She wonders when the hell would she get tired of waiting and inwardly calls herself pathetic like she did all those years ago.
Will you ever even grow tired?
No. Probably not until he openly tells her to shut up or she manages to get herself killed in battle or she finally dies of a broken heart.
The loose blue strands of her hair had fallen off her messy bun as she vigorously shakes her head and goes on her way without another word.
That basis would just be too stupid.
Even for her.
She'd have to wait for a thousand more years for that to happen.
Elves don't just fall in and out of love. Once they fall, it's always all or none, not leaving a single thing for themselves in the case of unrequittal. They fall in love once in their lifetime and Celine had never recalled an elf loving anyone who isn't the elleth they had adored before.
Not even a thousand years could mend Legolas' broken heart and tattered soul. Maybe it's not even something she should use as a measure of time for, she's mortal. She'd die before she could even reach a hundred.
Not aging a bit since she was nineteen after sixty years means nothing in the life of an elf.
The blond prince could take his time.
He may or may not turn towards her affections as he pleases.
Celine could only wish she wouldn't run out of time.
-----
A pair of clear ethereal blue eyes had watched her disappear around the corner with an untouchable sense of mystification.
It was a bit too late when he realized he could've called out to her as he half-turned to see her retreating form after he was done with his menial task of counting the punctures the girl made on the targets with her arrows.
He counted at least a thousand, nine hundred, twenty-one.
Not even a quarter to one million.
He pursed his lips in thought before remembering that he needed to gather water and go back to where The Fellowship had set up their camp.
-----☆To be continued