In every thing give thanks: for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you.
- I Thessalonians 5:18
There are many devices in a man's heart; nevertheless the counsel of the Lord, that shall stand.
- Proverbs 19:21
The course of true love never did run smooth.
- William Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night's Dream
Birds sang cheerily, their joyful melodies drifting through the light spring breeze, the flowers swaying to each high note the birds sang. The Sun shone bravely in the blue sky, her rays glinting off the stone arches of Imladris, and each sunbeam illuminating a once dim corner of the Hidden Valley.
'Twas a seemingly ordinary day, yet such a suggestion would be far from the truth, for ordinary days no longer existed in these perilous times.
Full of fouls things had the world become, for Sauron ruled from him dark tower in Barad-dur, his evil threatening to bring all of Ennorath under his dominion in one powerful strike. He was ready. If the free peoples were to ignore his threat, they faced immediate annihilation. But not a single soul lived that would willingly accept such a fate.
The Children of Iluvatar, the Men and the Elves formed an alliance, purposing in their hearts to end Sauron, to gain liberty from the evils he spread all about them.
Every able bodied man and elf was armed by his own people, troops were formed, armies established. The High King of the Noldor, Gil-galad, led his forces, his ever faithful herald Elrond of Imladris by his side.
It was them that a young Voronwe admired, it was them that he now followed into war.
As every young ellon's dream is, Voronwe's was. Marching into battle, slaying orcs, becoming a renowned hero. Then does it seem most grand and an envied stage to play on, that is, until war truly meet you. Yes, Voronwe had long dreamed of this, yet now, he wished that war had never come upon them. Gone were the dreams of being a hero. His death would come quickly, and with that he would leave the life he had built for himself behind. The hopes and dreams Voronwe had aspired to would collapse, crumbling into innumerable pieces of broken wishes.
Maybe if he had never known Lindeth the march would prove easier. She consumed most of his thoughts as his feet carried him nearer to his probable death. Perhaps it would not be so painful if never had he confessed his love, if he never asked her to marry him, if she had not agreed so happily, tears streaming down her cheeks and a heart stopping smile gracing her lovely face.
Yet even now, Voronwe could not imagine a life without her. If he was to die without marrying her, he would be thankful for the time they had been blessed with, even if it was not sufficient.
That morning had the birds chirped gladly, as was their routine, but there was little to call routine about that morning. Voronwe rose much earlier, ate little, and readied himself for the journey. Moments before he departed, Lindeth rushed up to him, weeping, though she would not beg him to stay. The choice was his, and she was glad to know that the ellon she loved was selfless and cared less for his own life than the good of the world. He had kissed her once, tears of his own slipping down his face.
There was but one regret he held in his heart as the distance between his death and himself grew smaller, as the childhood fantasy of being a hero sunk further and further into the ash of Orodruin. There was only one thing he would change. He would have taken Lindeth as his wife.
Voronwe worried not for his own life. If he should die, than the will of Eru he would not question, he would accept that fate with an open heart. It was not his own life that he had fear for or felt a responsibility to save. Instead, it was the elleth that had stolen his heart that he cared for. A future with one another had been in their grasp, only to sink because of the threat of evil in every direction.
Lindeth beheld his departure with tear-filled eyes, watching as her love marched to his probable death. The air was cool and calm about her, and it was as though there was not a single thing amiss in the world. All she had ever longed for in a husband she saw in him, more that she even had dreamed. As the distance between them grew further and further, Voronwe had turned his head several times, imprinting the image of the elleth he loved so dearly in his mind. His eyes met hers, and she wanted nothing more than to beg him to stay, to stay with her.
He faded from her vision, and with his departure went her heart. It was his, and it had been so since she had met him when she was still quite young and silly. It would always be so.
"Always I have know that your mouth moved quicker than your mind, but never did I imagine that you would allow your emotions to control you so, Anneth!"
"I am truly a fool."
"Yes, you are, but the time has not passed for you to mend your faults, iell nin. This day has not passed." I nod silently.
I sit like a hurt child, my knees drawn up to my chest, resting my chin on them.
Nana is across from me, a comforting smile on her face.
Everything that has occurred in the passing twelve hours has been horribly childish. Legolas inquired again after the ellon I admired, and unable to tell him or continually brush off his questions, I left.
He did not pursue me, merely watching as I childishly stomped away, too fragile to handle any sort of pressure. Straightaway I returned home and wept until I was too weary to weep any longer.
A part of me was wounded to know he did not care enough to ask what I found bothersome. And still I give myself hope.
Today he departs, and with him, all the hopes I have ever borne for a life without loneliness.
It would be foolish not to at least bid him a farewell. After all, he has become a dear friend, and should he perish, I would eternally regret ignoring his going.
Perhaps he deserves to be aware of my feelings, though I wish to tell him not. And why is that I do not wish to tell him? Because I have fear. Because I am afraid. I fear heartbreak, I fear rejection. I fear to be doomed forever to a solitary life full of mundane routine.
But I have given this all up into the hands of the only One who controls, directly controls, our fates. Whatever shall come to pass will be of His will, of His plan that is created in love. What He plans is what is best for us, what will bring us through every trial. The wonderful knowledge that Eru's plan is meant for our good will comfort us in spite of tribulations, and it shall establish peace in our hearts regardless of what horrifying circumstances may surround us.
If I should live a life alone, so be it. If my friends forsake me, then I will continue on with gratitude.
What things I shall see in the remainder of my lifetime I will face gladly.
Though I loathe the occurrences of this day, and though the even will bring sorrow in place of joy, still I will rejoice, with hope, faith.
"Authiel, I advise you to rectify the wrong you have caused. You need not heed my words, yet I believe it wise to do so."
Nana knows far more than I do, and always have her words rung true. And Legolas encouraged me to listen to what things she said, for his own mother left him, and he did not wish to see me take her for granted. Only I have already done so. Faithful she has been, adhering to her vow to see each of her daughters married before she sails. I am what binds her here, and though I know she longs to leave, to be with my father, she remains, for me.
"Yes, Nana," I answer quietly. "It would be wise to do so."
She smiles once at me, shaking her head at my current state.
The remainder of the day passes by slowly, and I elude Legolas foolishly. Today very well may be the last time I ever shall see him, and because of my petty silliness, I run from any interaction with him.
Part of my mind refuses to accept his departure, and the danger of it also. A bit of me still believes I shall see him on the morrow, laughing with those he holds dear, his eyes shining with joy.
'Tis frightening how quickly I have grown to love him, though I attempted to avoid him in fear of this. In fear of what I now face, heartbreak.
I drop my legs from their position of being curled up to my chest, slouching weakly in the chair.
The Sun's light weakens, still falling through the windows, and birds can be heard singing with one another as though not a single thing is amiss in our world. Squirrels scamper up the slender trunks of the trees and across the branches.
And I run out the door, pulling my skirts up and searching for the Company of the Ring.
It is nearly an hour of running around the city before I discover both them and the gate they will depart from.
From a distance I look on, watching as the hobbits speak with one another, the Ringbearer's face more grim than that of his friends. Aragorn speaks with Mithrandir, the dwarf eyes Legolas disdainfully, and a man I do not know or recognise stands to the side, observing what is before him.
Some have gathered to see them off, among them Tauriel and both Elladan and Elrohir, and I stand silently, attempting to hide myself and failing miserably.
The whole Company I can see clearly, but my eyes are trained on only one of them. Legolas stands silently looking around. Tauriel and the twins approach him, exchanging farewells.
And against what my mind tells me, my feet take me closer to him, farther from where my fear wishes to leave me.
Though I walk to him, my eyes stay engaged in the ground, refusing to look up.
Elrohir calls my name, and I do not answer, only glancing at him once.
Then my hand is gently taken and I immediately become aware that the twins and Tauriel have left.
I must say something, I must have some words.
I open my mouth but I find that no sound comes forth. Then suddenly, as quickly as the thought entered my mind, my mouth speaks.
"Goheno nin, Legolas, it was rather foolish and childish to leave as I did yesterday. I could - I could not tell you why I did it."
Each word is brief and nervously spoken, and the silence that follows my words furthers my anxiety. My mind races to find speech, and each breath is panicked and shallow.
My eyes move from the ground to his face, deep grey eyes drowning me once more.
A warm smile breaks upon his painfully handsome face that has become the embodiment of my dreams by some strange turn of events.
"All is forgiven, mellon nin." My hand is released, only for him to take them both. With unrelenting force, my heart beats in my chest, the sound resounding in my ears. "I shall miss you," he says, his voice quiet. "Guren níniatha n'i lû n'i a-govenitham."
His heart shall weep until we meet again? Mine will shatter, the broken pieces leaving with him.
Legolas turns, looking behind him, still tightly gripping my hands. Again I stare most intently at the terribly fascinating ground (truly the most fascinating ground I ever have beheld), before closing my eyes, wishing for a time when I could have hope without fear.
This is likely my only chance to become entirely honest with both myself and Legolas. Now, before the time becomes too late to speak any more words.
"Legolas–I–" I stop, disgusted by how broken and strained my voice is.
He lets go of my hands.
"What is it, Anneth? You–what?"
This is far too much. Why? Because I fear.
Fear has hereby been the main dictator of my life, and that is terrible in every imaginable way.
I could laugh at my idiocy if I was not the very picture of a mess.
"I do not–do not know how to tell you," I respond shakily and all eloquence long abandoned.
"I must leave, Anneth. Please, tell me, will you not?" he nearly pleads, and as I look behind me, toward the direction I will watch him leave, my chest grows tight, and my eyes well with tears.
No, this is not some terrible trick of my imagination. Legolas is departing on a quest that he may not return from. The grueling reality of it seems to suddenly resonate in me, like a strong blow to the midsection.
I close my eyes, wishing to escape the sadness now, but I am only met with more heartbreaking images from my mind.
A gentle hand touches my cheek, but still I do not open my eyes, petrified by the image of Legolas, fallen, dead, cut down unmercifully, as a young tree might be burned down without cause.
"Anneth, please."
If only I could resist his pleas. If only his words did not bear so much meaning to me.
Yet they do, and all the words I have longed to say are there in my mouth, ready to be poured thoughtlessly from my lips.
I breathe deeply, resolving to forget of my fears and truthfully admit my feelings. Against what I would wish to do, I wrestle my eyes open, nearly stumbling back at the sheer depth of the eyes that meet mine.
With a gentle touch, Legolas' hands take my face, carefully wiping away my tears, yet it only serves to cause me to weep more.
My teeth I clench together, attempting to cease the tears to allow me to speak.
"I–" I begin, closing my eyes tightly once more, Legolas' hands still holding my face.
When I open my eyes once more, I am immediately aware of how near he is to me, how painfully close.
I look into his eyes, the growing silence slowly becoming unbearable.
Behind him, leaves are gently fluttering, kissing the stone floor before being swept into the slow wind. And though I work to be stationary where I stand, immovable, I begin to find myself leaning forward on some foolish impulse of mine.
It would be pure dishonesty if I claimed that I wanted to turn and run. I have been a fool, and I suppose I now wish for foolish things.
And yet they seem so real, though they be only a wish.
Hesitantly, I reach up, softly touching his cheek, and any confidence I might have fled long ago. He reaches to my hand, covering it with his. I could suffocate in this silence, looking intently in Legolas' eyes, hoping that by some strange way I could tell him solely through my eyes.
Then desperately, impulsively, I pull him down and press my lips to his, pushing him away as suddenly as our lips touched.
He stands, astonished, and immediately I turn away, tears falling once more, completely horrified by my actions.
"Why did you do that?" he asks stiffly, and it seems a pained expression comes upon his face.
In that moment, I am entirely sure that my heart has fallen into innumerable shards, my stomach drops, and complete dread fills me.
I knew such an occurrence was completely probable, bound to happen.
"Why, Anneth?" he again asks.
The words spill from my mouth, and I am unable now to retract them, to hold them in my mind alone, secrets of the deepest part of my thoughts.
"Forgive me, please, for there is no explanation for such a brazenly foolish act, and–oh," I stop, my mind racing too far ahead for my mouth to keep up, and I panic. "Oh -I have brought everything, our friendship to ruin, simply because I stupidly - have begun to love you and have proven myself completely hopeless in managing my foolishness in my own mind and have instead brought it upon you," I stop my rambling, breaking in deeply, attempting to calm myself, though I cannot cease my tears and complete and utter mortification, and yet worse, the departure of Legolas. "You asked who it was that I had allowed myself to love by some strange twist. Well now–now you know," I finish. My last words are strained and quiet, narrowly heard through my pained tears. "Gerog i chûn nîn mi i chaim gîn."
With defiant boldness I continue to stare into his eyes, constructing a stubborn front, even as I wish to turn around and childishly flee home.
And just as quickly as a created that facade, it drops. My head I turn, readying myself to leave, to leave my idiocy behind and live the life meant for me, whatever it may be, to walk away from what I had believed to be love.
I childishly wish the day would match my spirits, for it seems not right that the Sun should show her face so boldly, that the gilded leaves of autumn should appear in all their glorious beauty. Or perhaps I wish that my spirits could reflect the beauty all about me. The trees have naught to worry for, save their songs to their Creator that never cease. If only I could worry for nothing.
I could, but I do not allow myself to.
My feet take me two steps away from Legolas, leading me to return home, each step serving as a dagger in my heart.
"Authiel."
I halt in my steps.
"Anneth."
My hand is gently taken; I turn toward him, and for but a brief moment, I meet his gaze, my heart beating irregularly, pounding in my chest.
Then in one sudden, dizzying, and completely baffling movement, he takes a step nearer to me and his lips meet mine in a kiss that my reason tells me to end immediately. I return his kiss far too eagerly, wishing that I might remain here, that he might stay. Something that is eerily like hope wells up in my spirit, and instead of pushing him away and returning home, I sink into his arms.
His hand releases mine, moving to my waist, pulling me closer, when he pulls away, stunned and - it appears - utterly disgusted by his actions.
Oh, it would have done me much good to have ended that before it began, to have never befriended him. To have never found hope.
Legolas does not speak, and there is silence.
"Forgive me–," I quickly blurt out, "I–"
He opens his mouth to speak, and his grey eyes seem to fill with confusion, regret, hurt. A tear he wipes from my face, before I turn and flee.
And though I hear my name fall from his lips, I do not turn back, refusing to bring upon myself further hurt as a direct result of my stupidity.
Had it been any other day, under any other circumstances, I would have been elated, acting much like a silly, infatuated elleth who had merely spoken with the object of her said infatuation.
My breathing strains. It seems as though my heart is being physically torn to shreds, breaking, shattering. An ache, terrible and great grows in my chest.
I walk as speedily as my feet will take me, suddenly collapsing against a tree. I do not know what direction I have gone, nor am I aware of how long I have walked. I have not even looked up to see the Sun.
I know not how to feel, not how I might react to all this. The only word I would use to describe my current state is numb.
I did not watch as he left, and I refused to turn back, even to bid him a farewell. For a moment there, I saw hope, I held it and believed for a moment that it was real. And then I left it, abandoned it.
Perhaps it was real hope, and I have really doomed myself to wait uncertainly.
Never did I dream that I would fall in love with a prince, nor did it occur to me that I would find such hope, only to deny it to myself and destroy it.
Then does the feeling return to me, in a horrible avalanche of sorrow, regret, hopelessness, and despair. Though I strain to smother the sobs and tears that wish to escape, I fail. If so much pain was given me in this, can I truly believe with my entire soul that it had all been an imagined thing?
Perhaps there was hope that I had overseen.
With great fervor I struggle to eradicate the thoughts from my mind, for they bring back that which I do not long to recall, and I yet revel in the memory. I should admonish myself to forget his kiss, to disremember the gentle way he had wiped away my tears. But in these thoughts are hope, a glimmer of it, so faint and weak, yet still they blaze in my heart, begging to be fueled.
Footsteps sound in my ears, and nearer to me they come. I wish to escape them, yet I have not the strength to do so, feeling weak and numb as I sit here.
"Authiel?"
I look up into the kindly face of Tauriel, who smiles grimly and seems to pity my current state.
"Mae govannen. You are Tauriel," I say quietly.
"Yes. Yet it is not mine own identity that concerns me now, but yours. I wanted to meet you before this day, but it seems there were different plans."
I answer not, merely nodding.
This is elleth Legolas believed he loved, and I am the elleth who believed she loved Legolas. What a strange encounter!
"Often Legolas spoke of you, so much that I became very eager to know who you were, convinced he fancied you at the very least. It was hope for him, it seemed. And as his friend, I was glad to see him find you."
Find me? What was there to find in me?
Baffled, I quietly inquire, "Find me?"
"You would be blind not to see," she tells me, laughing softly.
"It would do me good to be enlightened. I believe I am blind." My voice fades even as I speak.
"Authiel, he clearly cares for you. And it is my belief that he loves you."
Stunned, I do not reply for a moment.
Gathering my thoughts, I answer, "As a sister, of course–"
"No, you misunderstand me. Do ellyn go about kissing an elleth they see merely as a sister?"
"It was once–"
"Why do you give yourself no hope?" she demands. "Forgive me. I have little right to say such things, but still I ask."
"Because - it is because I am afraid."
Of course it is, 'tis always fear, my fear, that weighs down the hope that wishes to rise. I have never allowed fear to dampen hopes - but now it is too easy to let it do so.
"I know he loves you, even if he might deny the fact to himself. Heed my words, mellon nin, I have known Prince Legolas a long while. He has never looked so longingly after an elleth, neither has he been so enthralled and enchanted by one as he is by you."
"But he is not either enchanted–"
She smiles and shakes her head. "Believe me, he is. He spoke of you so often, every time I saw him since he met you. Forgive me if this seems intrusive, but I saw your entire farewell. There was nothing that spoke of mere friendship in that exchange, nothing at all. Perhaps you should let yourself hope. If even a small bit."
"You have given me hope, and I know not whether to be glad of that or exceedingly wary of mine own heart."
She laughs quietly.
"Be wary of nothing, save fear and hopelessness. I believe in another, more peaceful time, we would have made great friends. And please, when you finally marry him, forget not to credit my foresight."
In spite of myself, I blush, the mere passing thought of Legolas bringing about the frantic beating of my heart. Yet the giddy emotion subsides as soon as remember that he has gone on a quest, one that may leave him forever out of my grasp.
I smile at Tauriel.
"Yes, perhaps we would have made good friends. But it is my belief that peril should not dissuade one from friendships."
"It is also my belief that peril should not dissuade one from cultivating friendships, and I believe that such a principle applies to love also. Farewell, Authiel, I hope that we might be dear friends." She smiles brightly, walking away.
This day has both taken and destroyed my hope, and I am still numbed and shocked.
Oh, and I have worked so hard to forget it, yet still I can feel Legolas' lips on mine, the tenderness of his gaze.
And for the first time this day, I allow myself to sob, to weep. Two among those I love have been killed in warfare, and that number may grow to three.
No, if my love for Legolas had been false, I do not believe I would be willing to hurt for it. Because I am. If I must wait here in Ennorath for him to return, or if he must be slain and I must sail, then so be it.
I sigh.
Why must it be so complicated to me?
still not dead just a really crappy author who can't update regularly anymore
remember when i used to update twice a week and i actually had time to write
ugh high school is a pain in the freakin butt
but i hope you all had a beautiful christmas and new year!!!
love you guys
does anyone even read this anymore lol
may your pantries be filled with lembas as i go to find the Sun
- ness