A merry heart doeth good like a medicine: but a broken spirit drieth the bones.
- Proverbs 17:22
If we couldn't laugh we would all go insane.
- Robert Frost
"Anneth, Anneth, Anneth..."
"Oh, Amarwe will you cease that! Anneth is my name, quite aware am I of that, and please, stop!"
"Sister, why?"
"Because it is beginning to aggravate me, little one."
"Humph. But I want to tell you something!"
"Go on, then, tell me something."
"I'm getting married!"
"Why, Amarwe, you are but ten years of age!"
"Oh, not now, of course, but later. In about a hundred years."
"And to whom will you be wed?"
"I don't know. An ellon."
"Of course, you shall marry an ellon, Amarwe, but what shall his name be?"
The elfling girl shrugged.
"Sister, you don't know what your husband's name will be, do you? And you're two hundred years older than me!"
"I am going to marry Greenwood's Prince Legolas," said Anneth, her countenance serious and unwavering.
"You're joking!" cried her little sister, leaping about, her energy never spent.
"No, little one, why should I jest of such a serious matter as marriage!"
Amarwe gasped. "You mean to say you really will marry him? How can you know, you've never met him?!"
"Ai, am jesting, little sister," she said, patting her small sister's head. Anneth laughed. "Once I was truly set on marrying him, but then I was small and silly. And many of my playmates were set on wedding him as well. Somehow we were all going to marry him. Quite silly, and slightly disgusting."
"So who will you marry, Anneth?" asked the small girl, looking at her older sister with admiration.
"I do not know. I can only wait for him every day."
"That's a lot of waiting. Two hundred years of it. A lot of your friends are already married, yes?"
"Yes, many are. But there is no discontentment, I shall gladly wait."
"What if you marry late, Anneth? Voronen told me yesterday that people who marry late have strange fates."
Anneth laughed quietly and shook her head, eyes rolling in slight distaste. "Our brother is silly, Amarwe. But if it should mean I will still marry, I will gladly accept whatever strange fate given me."
"You are good, sister. I like you a lot. How do I be good like you?"
The older elleth smiled widely and laughed, gathering her little sister up in her arms. A kiss she pressed to Amarwe's forehead, twirling around gladly. Smiles were on both the ellith's faces, and the younger perceived then that her sister was the most beautiful elleth in the whole of Ennorath, even the entirety of Arda.
But Anneth was not beautiful. Pretty, yes, but her beauty did not turn heads and demand attention. She was simple, muted, imperfect. If she had been a lady of the court, she would have been the simplest of them all, in beauty and desires. There was little Anneth longed for, and at the height of her longing was the desire to find love.
Amarwe never doubted for a moment that her sisters were the most beautiful ellith to walk the earth, even when her oldest sister's years grew long and her hope for love slid through her fingers. Amarwe saw as Anneth, called now Authiel, smiled in spite of it, rejoiced in her joy and in Laineth's joy. She had cried with happiness when she saw her first niece, and wept for joy when she beheld her nephews. Then the nieces and nephews were given children of their own, and still she rejoiced. Still her eyes spoke of contentment, and her words of optimism and hope.
There was still hope, Anneth would cling to it. Deep in her sister's eyes, Amarwe began to see the long years, the loneliness, and the beginnings of despair, though Authiel pushed aside anything that might bring her to lose heart. Amarwe wanted to weep for her sister at times, other times she felt terrible that her responsibilities caused her to neglect her friendship with her older sister, but each time she voiced these concerns, Authiel assured her that all was well, even as it was well for others but not for her
If even her sister's face was not eye catching, Amarwe knew that Authiel's character was beautiful at the very least. Nothing should ever change that.
Amarwe knew her sister could only grow more admirable.
"Why do you convince yourself that you do not when any could see that you do?"
"Nana, for what I believe is the thousandth time, I do not fancy him! Why do you question me as if I were a barely of age elleth?"
Nana sighs, shaking her head at me in her complete disbelief. "Because you are acting as one."
"Yet how, Nana! I have spoken to him on five occasions, that is not nearly enough time for one's feelings to fly from friendship to attraction!"
"Oh, but it is, my dear Anneth."
In my chair I lean back, closing my eyes. Oh, how greatly my young self would have rejoiced to live as I am now, and in this moment I dread and despise my experiences.
Or so I tell myself, for I do welcome the friendship of any, save many ellyn of whom the prince is exempt from, and friendship is all I can seek here. It is all I will seek.
"There is but one way to solve this. If you wish to cease to fancy the prince, admit to yourself you fancy him, and only then can you remove feelings for him."
"Nana, but I do not. I cannot. It simply is impossible, 'tis folly if even I considered it!"
"I am your mother. I am much older than you, and I know your mannerisms better than even you can tell, despite the length of time you have lived. I yet have lived longer. You believe that I could not tell, and yet I can. 'Tis no common practice for you to return home after a night of solitude in the gardens with a wide smile on your face and a countenance that is so joyful and unlike the way you often have been."
"He is a friend now, Nana, can I not be so happy to be with a friend?"
Truly I find this all ridiculous and unnecessary. To think I would fancy Legolas is quite silly. He is very handsome, yes, and many elleth might faint at his charming smile and strong jaw, but I am not among them, nor will I ever be, if I can help it.
And I can.
"You might be happy, Authiel, yet not so happy as that. I suppose it is no use. Go along and do what things you must," she says dismissively, waving at me to rise from my seat and go out the door.
"There is nothing I must do, only that which I decide to do."
"Well, then do that. Do something. I cannot bear to see you sitting aimlessly in the sitting room with no companion and naught to do. Often you do not even have a book."
"Ai, yes, Nana," I answer, laughing. "I shall find myself a book and return to sit in the sitting room, yet it will not be aimless. There will be some goal."
"Oh, go on, Authiel!" she exclaims, a smile lighting up her face, such a smile that rarely makes itself known.
She is so pained and burdened, my mother is. Burdened is she by my folly, and by lingering here, she is only more pained. It is I that brings that to her, for pain would leave her if only I sailed. I wish to sail, I want to do so, and yet I cannot. Each time that I have resolved to leave, my resolve dissolves quickly, and I cannot bring myself to go across the Sea.
I would go if my heart would let me. And I cannot tell if it is 'purpose' that ties me here or simply the horrid fact that never have I been near enough to the Sea to hear its undeniable call. What purpose have I here?
There is no hope for my life here, only more long passing years alone. If Sauron should take back his Ring and plunge us all into an unending darkness, then what will I say then, having stayed here in these lands when the chance was given me to depart.
This is despair that threatens to seize my heart, and there is little resolve that I have against it, yet even weaker is my resolve to sail.
Yet all this is selfish thoughts, of only my problems. And what of my sisters? They stay, and for what?
I do not believe they can tarry here any longer; they have no reason to stay. They can sail with their families and bring themselves to more happiness.
I would tell my sisters of all my concerns, of all my longings, and yet they would not understand, leading me to conceal them in the vaults of my mind. No comfort would they provide me, for they do not know, and for that I am glad. I would not burden my sisters, for they do bear enough burdens of their own.
Both their husbands patrol the borders of the Hidden Valley, and often times they are gone for fortnights at a time. At any time they could be struck by an orc arrow, or be slain by the sword, and their spirits would depart from this world.
I would not make heavier the weight they carry by a worry for me as well as others they love.
It has been so for many years, and it simply no longer brings me much sorrow, for I have become numb to it. The emptiness deep in my heart gnaws always away, yet because for so long it has been that way, I can live with it. With content I shall live with it.
I will be content adhering to this mundane schedule of mine that rarely meets any changes, content with boring myself with continuous studies in languages I do not care one bit about.
Now in the library, a welcome place, I sit with the same ancient volume cracked open upon my lap, the instructions for an even more ancient language written on its yellowed pages. Mind numbing this is, and I begin to despise it, but there is naught else for me to do. I would read something of a novel, but already I have read each story in this grand room of many books, and it would not appeal to me if I should read them again.
The inflection belongs on this letter...accent removed... 'ey' as in the words hannon le...the sound must be dropped here, but never when above...
Dull. Unstimulating. Insipid.
"You appear most forlornly miserable, Anneth. What tragedy has transpired this day, though it be beautiful outside?"
In spite of myself, I smile at the sound of his voice, turning to look into the infinitely grey eyes of none other than Legolas. If I could slow my heart from its horrible pounding in this instant I would do it, and yet I cannot. How came he to find me? And if this so continues, why, I will so easily begin to fancy him. How wonderful!
"There is no tragedy, Legolas. Only the tragedy that is this book."
He comes and takes the book from my hands and laughs, glancing over the words.
"Really, you are in need of something much better to do with your time, Anneth, this is most dull!"
"And you must find something more productive than terrorising poor ellith about their apparent need for better entertainment. What do you suppose I should do, prince!"
"Oh, terrorising you I am not," he says, smiling. "I should think of several things you might do!"
"How did you find me?"
"What? Anneth, that is unrelated to what I was speaking of, but if you wish to know, I asked you sister."
"How did you know my sister?"
"She looked like you. And laughed a bit like you, too, but I believe your laugh is more rare than hers."
"What did she say to you?"
"I would believe I was under interrogation for an attempt on the Lord Elrond's life if it were not for the dust in your hair. Unsurprising, there is much dust in these old books."
"There is dust in my hair?!"
"Hm, nox, 'tis on your cheek, really." The corners of his mouth are undeniably curving into a smile, even as he attempts to show seriousness.
My brother even was not as apt to teasing as this ridiculous, and granted, very handsome prince.
"You are most ridiculous of all ellyn. Why do you seek my company? I am clearly busied with my–my studies, and I would have learnt something if not for you coming and snatching my book away!"
That may have been a bit harsh to speak to a prince. I am an idiot.
I await a response, and covertly hope that it should be possible he sought my company only to speak with me. My twenty year old self would have greatly enjoyed these moment, and would most definitely have embarrassed herself further than I.
Legolas looks down at the book he holds, then to me. I colour slightly. If only he was not so unfairly beautiful, then I might be able to control myself!
"I believe not that there was much for you to learn, for misery was written all over your face when I saw you poring over this. And as for why I sought your presence, well, I have none other to speak with."
So I am a last resort. Better than naught, I do suppose.
"I am your last resort then," I state bluntly, immediately regretting making that remark.
"A last resort you might be, but you would not know until the twins and Aragon return, and my companions are again here."
I answer not, and he promptly closes the book, looking for its proper position on the large shelves.
"What are you doing?!"
"Putting away the book away for you."
"Why?"
"Because, clearly you wish not to be reading this until noontime, and I am to assist you in that way."
True he speaks, I have tired of the endless reading I do in an attempt to amuse myself. More amusing than instruction in a dead language is Legolas, and I suppose I can tolerate his presence. More than tolerate, even enjoy.
"Where does it belong?" he asks, and I point him to where the book was found. It is placed back, dust flying from the friction it creates with the books on either side of it. The prince offers me his arm in a quite courtly fashion, and I hesitate for a moment before taking it. "To the gardens?" he inquires, looking down at me.
My heart beats yet faster upon taking his arm, and if my face is not the colour of a strawberry, 'tis the shade of dark red that lines the neckline of my gown.
It will be but another day before I find myself completely infatuated with Legolas, for reasons that are too many to count. That I do find utterly objectionable, regardless of how handsome or kind he is, how much I enjoy his company.
'Tis silly and foolish, and I can no longer deny that in a week and a half I have begun to fancy him. Despite all the reason I pour into my mind, I cannot possess the reins of my heart well enough, it seems. I have not worried myself with the feelings of other ellyn for a very long time, and yet now I already begin to hope for more than a mere friendship, even as I convince myself to pursue naught more than friendship. One can understand how ellon such as he has many admirers, and I never dreamt that I might count myself among them, though it is with shame and slight contempt that I do so. If only he were not so princely and everything my silly young self would have longed for.
"I am not accustomed to acting that way," Legolas suddenly says, sighing in what seems to be frustration. "You did not seem pleased with my taking away of your book, Anneth."
"It really was a more welcome amusement. I find you better than sitting in a library and poring over something I truly care little for, Legolas."
"Under normal circumstances I do not often do things as you so saw. It was merely that you appeared so forlorn and pained it was painful and it does not do me well to see a friend in such a state."
"I might thank you then," I reply, incapable of holding back the smile that finds its way to my face.
"You are most welcome, mellon nin," he says while looking out toward the sky, and then to my face once more. "'Tis what a friend does. You are a friend."
"I was under an impression that kindred spirits are immediately friends, and it is not needed to make that clear." There is no way that I might continue to distance myself from him when he is–just the way he is.
"Whatever you decree, my lady," comes his gravely response, a tragically solemn expression on his face.
"If I decreed you should be forced to sit in a room full of ladies for an evening, you would do it?" I ask, but merely in jest.
Legolas laughs quite boyishly and suddenly releases my arm.
"If I had naught better to do, I suppose I would do it. If I had, I would graciously decline that offer.
"According to my brother, anything is said to be better than sitting with a room of ladies in the evenings," I say, recalling the bewildered look often on my brother's face whenever my sisters and I spoke together in front of him.
"I have not spent much time in the company of ladies, except at feasts. And those I do find to be rather light hearted and sometimes disagreeable."
"Disagreeable? And for what cause?"
He looks at me as if I were insane.
"Mirkwood you clearly have never been to. There is a reason we are said to be less wise and more dangerous. We are often times unwise with our wine consumption, leading to an abundance of intoxicated elves in many corners of the feasting halls. I have seen as some ladies go from elegance and courtly dances to inebriation and yanking poor ellyn to dance with them. But ellyn are the ones who suffer from drunkenness the most. It is a most foul thing, a feast after there has been enough wine brought out to bring the guests to a state of being–crapulous," he says with a disgusted expression on his face. I only listen to his tale, quite appalled at this description. "Drunken ellith means only more torture for me."
An unwelcome picture of impaired ellith fighting for a dance with Mirkwood's prince comes to mind, and I struggle to hold back peals of laughter at this thought.
"I am sorry you must face such horror. But I have been to your homeland. Once, I believe. I was but a small child of possibly twenty."
Twenty. The height of my silly infatuation with Prince Legolas.
I saw him there, I think.
I did see him, and I was lost in the halls once, for I heeded not my mother's instruction to remain in the room, and I began to run in panic when I collided with Legolas.
That is the epitome of childhood embarrassment.
"When did you come, was it less that two hundred years ago? I may be able to recall."
Two hundred! Two hundred years ago I was meeting my youngest niece!
Unable to hold it in, I laugh uncontrollably. When I manage to calm, I respond solemnly, "I am far older than you think, Legolas. Much older than two hundred and a score years."
"I supposed so. At two hundred one is still young and foolish," he says, "and the youth is clear in the always merry speech and undimmed eyes, but your speech is neither merry nor are your eyes full of the youth that I might see in Tauriel. She is much younger than I."
"No, you are correct. It has been only recently that I have laughed more. I had not been able to have a merry spirit for some time. Until recently, I had not so much as had a genuine smile for a long time."
"To not smile–not laugh, that is sorrow and a thing that is as poison to the soul."
"Yes, it is."
I had tired of the world, of the life I lived and there was little for me to find merry, to laugh about. Oh, then I might have sailed. I would have if enough courage I could muster.
•••••
"Iell, you have been out the whole of today and now you leave again?" Nana asks in awe, not believing that I really would have more to do than sit in the house. Her eyebrows are raised, and she looks at me with question.
"I thought you wished for me to be out more?"
"I do, 'tis just that I am surprised you have heeded my suggestions! What are you doing that is capturing your attention so?"
"Is it important to know what it is?" I reply, becoming conscious of my sudden shyness, and the dreaded colour that rises in my face.
"Ai, Anneth!" she exclaims. "You are blushing, iell." There is amusement in her eyes and she smiles at me. "I suppose I can infer myself to what has captured your–notice. Hope I will have that you will speak to me of this later."
"Nana..." I whine like a small child.
She only shakes her head and offers me a minuscule smile, weariness and a tired spirit seen in her. Her head she leans back to rest on her chair, silently telling me to leave.
With quiet steps, I exit my home, leaving to the same place I was the evening last, with the gleaming white moon reflecting off the stones. He said he would meet me there, and I must cease this deceit, this convincing myself that I do not highly enjoy his company. More than I suppose I should.
Though he is a prince, he does not act as one–or rather, he acts as one, but does not treat me as if I were lower than he. I am his equal and have an opinion as valuable as his own. He wants me to be his friend!
In all his friendliness and frequent appearance in the past few days I have abandoned my slightly ridiculous philosophy of avoiding ellyn for the sake of my heart, and in abandoning it, I have merely opened my heart up to find myself becoming more fond of the prince than I wished for.
And still I perceive that my heart will only long for more of his presence when even it is far better than I avoid him.
finally updated....
Vote, comment, and leave feedback, please!!!
Tell me what you guys think... tell me if my story is suffering from cliche-itis, or if Authiel is a Mary-Sue and needs to die.
also i have a new signature i like it more than the other one
May your pantries be full of lembas bread as I go to find the Sun