Story Downloaded from Open Scrolls Archive (https://www.openscrolls.net)

Title: Upon Earth's Opening (#2934)
Author: Ivy
Chapters: 18

Archive: Tolkien
Category: Lord of the Rings
Description: A lonely toddler elf found in Mirkwood, Caen grows to be a well rounded elf, as the adoped daughter of Elrond... But what the world doesn't know is that she's a spy...
Published: 08 Sep 2006
Updated: 22 Oct 2008
Warnings: Mild Language, Sexual references
Type: Romance
Characters: Legolas; Caen


Chapter 1 - A Youth's Advantage

Upon Earth’s Opening

Chapter One : A Youth’s Advantage

---

“It is hopeless. She is hopeless. Nothing can be done.”

“Are you sure, Brannon?”

“Thranduil. She is coming close to finishing her second decade. She has not uttered a single word to us. She probably doesn’t know the difference between a teapot and a thumbnail. She’s a hopeless case. My advice is...”

“Your advice is not needed here. I want to see the girl.”

With that final statement, Thranduil waved the frustrated healer, Brannon, away and rose from his desk.

“But sire!”

“She is but a child. There is hope for her. There must be something that can be done.”

“Twenty years and she hasn’t said a word!”

“You have only just taken her into your care. Maybe she has not said anything to you for good reason.”

“We do not even know her name, sire! Nor who her parents were, nor why she was found wandering the forest alone, nor...” Brannon listed his parade of horribles. Thranduil, however, did not listen to his arguments.

“Brannon, I will not argue with you. Show me this girl.”

“Alright, Sire... but why you’re bothering with such a small matter of importance is beyond... Right this way, sire...” Thranduil had just given his silencing stare.

While walking to the left wing of the palace, Thranduil heard the pitter-patter of small children’s feet running in their direction. He snagged his son bodily from the group of running youths and threw him over his shoulder like an infant.

“Legolas, you know better,” he simply said.

“Father! Let me down! I was having fun!”

“I have need of your assistance, and you will no doubt run away as soon as I set you down. So no.” Thranduil continued to walk along.

“What do you need me for?” Legolas whined, spitting out a piece of hair that had blown into his mouth and resisting his father’s clutches with a lot of wiggling.

“Lady Silma would not appreciate your tone...”

“But Lady Silma isn’t here,” Legolas protested, grimacing at the thought of his strict tutor.

“In here, Sire,” Brannon opened a door to a small and scantly furnished room. There was a small wardrobe, a simple bed, and a tiny table next to the window with a disproportionately large chair. Sitting on the bed was a small girl, her auburn hair falling in front of her forehead and obscuring her face. She had her hands clasped, as if in prayer, and small sounds were coming out of her mouth, as if she was trying to speak, but could not find the strength to do so.

“Put me down!”demanded the small Legolas. Thranduil did so, and Legolas bounced over to the bed where the girl was sitting.

After glancing back at his father, as if to ask for permission, Legolas pushed back the girl’s hair and tucked it behind her pointed ear and peered into the girl’s face. Thranduil could now see that her eyes, which were red and puffy from tears, were a shocking gold-green, like the color of ivy in the sunlight.

“Hi,” Legolas said, smiling at the girl.

She stared blankly at him.

“My name’s Legolas,” he continued, swinging his feet back and forth.

More silence.

“That’s my daddy, the King. I’m a prince.”

For the first time, a sign of understanding: she bowed her head to him.

“No, you don’t have to do that. I want to be your friend,” Legolas raised her chin with his hand.

She bit her lip nervously and blinked.

“What’s your name?”

The smallest noise came from her throat. “Caen.”

“Caen? That’s pretty,” Legolas stared around the room, searching for something to entertain himself with while the girl was quiet.

“Wanna go outside and ride horses?”

Her eyes grew wide, and for the first time, she smiled.

“I’m afraid she can’t,” Brannon interrupted. “She must stay inside, Legolas.”

“But why? She wants to go!”

“Not everyone can do everything on impulse, son. Come along...”

“I want to stay with her,” Legolas protested.

“Not right now, son. It is time for your lessons,” Thranduil said apologetically.

“But there’s something wrong with her!” Legolas nearly shouted at his father. The room fell silent and still. “I want to help her!” Legolas said much more quietly.

“Not today, son...” Thranduil said firmly.

Caen’s smile had vanished from her face, and she had returned to the quiet and shy elf she had been before. Her hair fell into her face again and Legolas tucked it behind her ear again. He saw a tear in her eye and he wiped it away. Then he turned to follow his father out of the room.

“Caen...” Brannon muttered. “Thranduil, your son might be the key we need to unlock this girl from her cage she’s created. What horrors are in her past that she is so quiet about?”

“Or been forced into silence...” Thranduil sighed. “No, he will not be the key she needs. Not now,” he said. “I must attend to something. Brannon, can I trust you to see my son to the library for his lessons? Thank you.”

Back in his office, Thranduil summoned Aradan, one of his advisors, to him.

“My Lord Thranduil,” Aradan bowed deeply.

“Aradan, you are aware of the girl who was found yesterday morn?”

“The quiet one, yes. One of my troops found her.”

“Have a party ready tomorrow to take her to the Dell. This is something Elrond would be better off with. I will have a letter ready by the evening,” Thranduil sent Aradan away and then he poured himself a glass of wine. This was going to be an interesting project. He didn’t understand why he was getting involved in it, but he felt that it was the right thing to do.

He hoped it was the right thing to do, sending this girl with whom his son connected with so well to Rivendell.

Legolas would forget about her soon enough. He was a child. Children never remembered anything important.

Thranduil sipped his wine and thought for a long while before picking up his feather quill and etching a letter for Elrond.

Elrond-

Here is an interesting patient for you. She was found in my forest just yesterday morn. She does not speak to anyone, but she does understand when we speak to her. We know not who her parents are, or if they are still alive. I am sending her to you because I feel none of my personnel have the talent as you do in the Dell. All we – young Legolas, that is - can get out of her is that her name is Caen, or otherwise she was given that name recently. She looks no older than 20 years to me.

I hope you will take her in and find her a good foster home. I do request, however, a regular update on her condition.

After another page describing the condition of Mirkwood and the politics between himself and Celeborn of Lothlórien, Thranduil finished the letter with:

Best regards. And congratulations, regarding your newborn daughter.

-Thranduil.

Thranduil sprinkled dust on the letter to seal the ink, and then he rolled it up and sealed it with wax. He set the letter to the side of his desk to give to Aradan later.

He then heaved himself out of his chair, reminding himself that he was too young to be ‘heaving’ anything, and walked out of the study to check on his wife, Ithilwen, in their room.


Chapter 2 - Elrond's Suspicions

Chapter 2 : Elrond’s Suspicions

---

Lord Elrond set down the letter and turned to consult Aradan once more.

“You said that your troops found her one day wandering alone in the woods?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And all you know about her is her name?”

“Yes, sir.”

Elrond leaned back in his chair, eyeing the letter on his desk as if by looking at it once more it will make more sense than the last time he had looked at it. However, no such luck.

“Why does Thranduil want me to look raise this girl?” he asked Aradan, the Elvenking’s advisor.

“He thinks you have the skill to heal her, my lord,” Aradan answered.

“She looks in perfect health to me, Aradan,” Elrond speculated.

“Yes... but,” Aradan trailed off. Elrond raised his eyebrows. “Thranduil thinks she might be... haunted.”

“By what, might I ask?” Elrond rose and walked over toward the window. The young girl, Caen, was standing in the middle of the courtyard, staring at the centerpiece fountain.

“I do not know... demons of her past? I think Thranduil knows something that the rest of us do not,” Aradan speculated aloud.

“What past? She’s too young to have a past,” Elrond grumbled. Out in the courtyard, Caen was stirring around the water with her small hands and smiling.

...Elrond couldn’t turn her away. That would be discourteous, especially taking into consideration that she’d already been turned away once. And she might be company to Arwen, when she was older.

“She may stay,” Elrond said finally.

Aradan bowed. “Thranduil is most thankful,” he replied.

“I’m sure he is,” Elrond stared once more at the child. This will be interesting, he thought, to gain two daughters almost simultaneously. Elrond wouldn’t send this girl to a foster home in the village. Just by looking at her he could tell that she had been abused.

No, there were no broken bones or bruises, but she was abused in the worst kind of way: to the soul.

Yes... this will be very interesting.


Chapter 3 - A New Assignment

Chapter 3 : A New Assignment

---

“Caen! Caen! Caen!”

“No... go away Arwen... it’s too early...”

“It’s nearly high noon! And anyway you have to get up and see who’s just arrived.”

Caen opened her eyes and shot a glare in Arwen’s direction. Arwen, her foster sister, sat on the edge of the bed, her raven hair flowing flawlessly down to her waist and her dark eyes shined in the sunlight coming in through the window.

“Who’s arrived?” Caen asked, rubbing her eyes and coaxing herself to get out of bed. She snatched her hairbrush off the dresser and started detangling her auburn hair. While Arwen spoke, Caen yawned and shook her head, trying to rid herself of sleep’s clutches.

Arwen evaded the question, but Caen knew she was just biding time. “How late were you up?”

“The sun was almost up by the time I fell asleep,” Caen replied with another yawn.

“What on earth were you doing up that late?” Arwen exclaimed.

“Reading,” Caen lied smoothly. “Who’s arrived?” she asked again. She was just too tired to care. If Arwen felt it was important enough to wake Caen up and tell her, she might as well just spit it out.

Caen selected a rose-colored gown to wear, but Arwen snatched it away from her and pressed her green gown into her hands. “It matches your eyes,” she explained. Caen rolled her eyes and put the dress on. “The party from Mirkwood has arrived!” Arwen finally exclaimed.

“So?” Caen braided her hair lazily.

“SO!” Arwen exclaimed indignantly.

“Why would I care about some prat king and his equally arrogant child?”

“Legolas is a little arrogant... but he’s also handsome,” Arwen couldn’t have been more obvious. Caen caught on right away.

“No. Not that again. Arwen, you’re not setting me up with Legolas,” Caen said firmly.

“Oh but Caen! You just need to meet him once and you’ll fall in love with him!” Arwen assured. “Wait... where are you going?” she asked.

“Not to the courtyard to greet the guests, I can guarantee you that. You know as well as I do that I’ll be forced to see them later. Why does it matter that I greet them?” Caen said with a lazy smile.

“It’s courtesy!” Arwen called, heading in the opposite direction of Caen to the courtyard.

Caen walked through the halls as if she owned the place. Which was kind of true. Her head was held high and her gaze, as she made her way through the halls, was unreadable. She walked to the stables and saddled her horse.

She picked the least-traveled path, and trotted out of the Dell. Everybody knew and gossiped about her routine trips in and out of the valley. Speculations were made as to where she went so often, but nothing was ever found.

Nothing would ever be found, Caen knew. She was just that careful.

As Caen got farther and farther away from her home, her attitude became progressively haughtier and ruder.

“Halt, Elf!”

“Let me pass, scum,” she spat at the disgusting orc standing guard.

“Caen,” it hissed. He gave a bow, which was anything but courteous. She rewarded his insolence with a strong knee in the gut.

While the orc howled in pain, she walked through the camp. Catcalls and jeers followed her as she walked. She ignored them.

At the edge of the camp, there was a single dark tent and Caen walked straight through the flap without announcing herself. “Morthen,” she grumbled.

“You’re late, Caen.” Caen’s father was dark haired and formidable. The only resemblance between father and daughter was their eyes: the same intense green.

“Your latest set of orders kept me up all night, Morthen,” she said his name with no air of respect.

“It serves you right. Your duties are not being fulfilled, you filthy wench.” Though his voice was stern and his words cruel, they had no effect on Caen whatsoever. “WHERE DOES YOUR DUTY LIE?” he suddenly bellowed.

“With Lord Morthen and Lord Sauron,” Caen answered firmly.

“You better believe it, woman,” Morthen sat on his considerably large throne-like chair. “I did not give you up to the enemy in Mirkwood for you to become soft,” he said in what could have easily been interpreted as a hiss. He stood up and walked around her. “WHAT IS YOUR DUTY?” he bellowed again, this time right in her ear.

“I am a spy,” Caen said in the same firm voice.

“Good.” Morthen returned to his chair and sipped his black wine, orc-made.

“What is it you want of me now, Lord Morthen?” Caen said. She felt like a stone paperweight. Tossed aside and ignored until needed. She had proved her loyalty to her father a hundred times over. She had seduced and bedded elves to get information, she had eavesdropped, killed, lied, cheated, and did whatever she could to appease her father, who never rewarded her with even a ‘thank you’. And she found that she no longer cared what her father thought.

Just last night she had spent hours and hours sitting on an uncomfortable tree branch listening to Aragorn and Gandalf give reports to Elrond.

“I have another assignment for you,” Morthen said quietly.


Chapter 4 - A Dip in the Pond

Chapter Four : A Dip in the Pond

---

Not again.

Damn it. She had to seduce another elf into giving information. And unfortunately it hat to be the elf that Arwen wanted her to chase after.

Damn her. Damn Morthen. Damn Sauron. Damn everyone.

Caen huffed as she entered the borders of Rivendell. It was time to become a dignified lady again, whether she liked it or not. And she didn’t like it. But she pulled it off quite nicely.

Loud voices caused her to stiffen on her horse. Eleven of them. Woodlanders, by their look and accent. By the time Caen had snuck off her horse and toward the voices, they had proceeded to remove their clothing and dive into the pond. Toad’s pond. Named that for obvious reasons, as it was inhabited by hundreds of warty toads.

Caen took her time observing them. Sure, she was a spy, but she was still female. A rather amusing idea struck her and she crept over toward the group of laughing elves. Quietly, she started gathering up random articles of clothing, planning to make fools of them when the realized their clothing was missing.

She had just started collecting when a voice yelled in amusement. She ignored it. More yells followed after a short period of silence.

She was just speculating on exactly how stupid Wood elves were when she was hoisted into the air and into the arms of an elf. She screamed and struggled and tried to get down but the elf held on tightly. She was in the arms of a dark-haired elf, and a flaxen-haired elf stood right by him, eyeing her closely. Everyone around her, needless to say, were all stark naked. Her captor’s hair was dripping water onto her dress, which made her annoyed.

“Hello, miss,” the flaxen-haired one said. “How are you on this lovely day?”

“I would be fine, milord, if he put me down,” she glared at the group of elves at large.

“He’ll put you down, Lady, if you answer a question or two for us,” he gestured around. All eleven elves were standing around her, their bodies drying in the sunlight peeping through the trees.

“Why were you going off with our clothing?” one demanded.

“Well why not?” Caen answered with a shrug.

“Wrong answer!” her captor smiled. He walked her over to the waters edge and tossed her in before she had a chance to even scream in protest.

She jumped out of the water and, dripping everywhere, proudly stomped away from the group of elves, who were all howling with laughter.

Caen walked away, more furious at the elves who had humiliated her than embarrassed at the fact that she was dripping wet and her dress was clinging tightly and inappropriately to her body.

Caen quickly changed her dress and dried her hair in her room, thinking all the while of the morning’s events... Morthen’s new assignment, acting on a whim, and being tossed into the pond...

Caen dreaded dinner, when she would be forced to start seducing that prince.

As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t let her annoyance with the world show. She never could. It came with job description. Look it up, under ‘spy’. And/Or “captive of wits”.

She sought out Arwen. She was sure that Arwen would know how to waste an afternoon. Most anything Arwen came up with bored Caen out of her mind and time would drag. And the more time that it took till dinner, the better. She loved Arwen like a sister and would never do anything to (directly) harm her, but that didn’t mean she had to enjoy whatever Arwen did.

But when she found Arwen, she found her quite busy. She was pressed against a wall and being ravaged by a scruffy human.

Didn’t they realize they were in the library?

Caen, now with no one to amuse her and wanting to beat her head against the wall with the mental images of Aragorn and Arwen in the library just now, retreated back to her room where she plucked a book off her shelf and settled on her bed to read it.

She might be a heartless spy but she wasn’t an entirely heartless woman.

---

Dinner was never to be missed, no matter how important your work was. That fact had been drilled into her head ever since she was a child. Especially dinners when there were guests present. Which, in Rivendell, was a considerable amount of the time.

Caen spent her time surveying the Mirkwood party over her sister’s shoulder, who was too busy chatting with a friend of hers to notice what Caen was staring at. There were a few elves that looked important enough, and handsome enough, to be the prince. But the party seemed to all be the best of friends and no man stood alone. They all laughed and ate and talked animatedly.

Across the room there certainly were many guests. There most guests she had seen in many years. There were Halflings, humans, assorted foreign elves, and... dwarves. Caen scowled internally at the short, fuzzy beings.

Dinner was not all that exciting. It was only when the dancing started in the Hall of Fire did it ever become interesting.

Caen did her duty as a daughter of Elrond, even a foster one, and danced the first dance with a randomly selected elf. She danced for several hours, and when she thought it was polite enough, she retreated into a dimly lit corner to survey the elves still dancing.

Sometimes she didn’t understand how she lived this double life... How did she appear so happy all the time and yet be drowning in hatred and fear on the inside? She was just speculating on this fact, when,

“Well, well, well. How’s the water nymph tonight?” an amused voice chuckled. It was the flaxen haired elf, Caen realized. She, after giving him a glare that plainly told him to go away, stared back at the crowd.

“You seem to have dried off nicely,” the elf tried again.

“You seem to have clothed yourself nicely,” Caen couldn’t help but say. He really had asked for that one...

“They’re rather tight. I had to borrow them from Elladan. I didn’t expect a fancy dinner and dance when I came here,” the elf chuckled. Caen glanced at him in the corner of her eye and mentally approved. He had archer’s arms, she noticed. Rather nice archer’s arms.

“I saw you sitting with the Halfelvens,” the elf said. “Are you the mysterious adopted daughter that I’ve never met?” he asked.

“You’ve met me,” she responded.

“Have I? I’m sure I would have remembered...” he furrowed his brow.

“You tossed me into the pond. Have you forgotten already?” Caen smiled, and her eyes twinkled mischievously.

The elf chuckled. “I have met you, then. But I am afraid I’ve forgotten my manners,” he bowed. “Legolas, at your service.”

Caen’s breath caught. This is what she was supposed to get? She suddenly saw her assignment in a whole new light. This would be one dangerously satisfying mission, no matter how it ended up.

And he obviously didn’t remember the first time they’d met in Mirkwood.

“Caen,” she responded with a curtsey. Silently she thanked her father. Surely he wouldn’t have given her this assignment if he had ever seen how handsome Legolas really was.

“I must ask you,” Legolas said, joining her without her permission and leaning against the wall. “...again, why did you attempt to steal my men’s clothing?”

“Why not?” Caen’s answer was the same. “I was bored.”

“Boredom can be relieved in other, more dignified ways, Lady Caen,” Legolas said with a smile tugging at his lips.

“Not in Rivendell, I assure you.” How was it that she could speak so freely with him already?

“And are you bored right now?” Legolas asked.

“What, are you afraid I’m going to steal your clothing right now in front of everybody?” Caen snorted.

Legolas burst out laughing. His laugh reminded Caen of a tiger. Devilishly handsome looks, but a fierce passion underneath a calm appearance that threatened to strike out at any moment. Danger Caen could do. It was what she was used to. Risks. It was obvious that this Prince knew the hardships of travel and the pain of war.

This assignment might not be half-bad.


Chapter 5 - The Sea Princess and the Land Prince

Chapter 5 : The Sea Princess and The Land Prince

---

The next morning, Caen woke up feeling well-rested and content. But those happy feelings disappeared just about when she realized that she was in a bed that was not her own and she didn’t remember how she got there.

She sat up, glancing around the room, trying to figure out where she was. She guessed that it was a guest’s chamber, since it was decidedly neater than every long-term occupant’s room she’d ever come across. There was a blanket thrown haphazardly over the back of a chair and the wardrobe was open.

Just as Caen had stood up to leave the room, the bathing room door opened and, who else but Legolas, walked out of the room wearing naught but a towel wrapped around his waist and dripping water all over the floor.

“Oh, Lady Caen, you’re awake,” he said with a grin.

“Oh, Prince Legolas, you’re naked,” she replied. “What am I doing in here?” she demanded, not bothering with any further niceties.

“You cannot remember?” Legolas asked, walking to the open wardrobe and taking out a folded pair of pants. After dropping the towel, he pulled them on. Caen glared at him.

“No, I cannot remember. That is why I’m asking you!” This man was absolutely the most arrogant elf she’d ever met. Well, next to her own father.

“Yes, I suppose that is obvious, since you seem quite distraught about waking up in here,” Legolas commented. “...In my bed,” he taunted with a sly grin.

“Do you enjoy taunting me?” Caen shot.

“Very much, yes,” he grinned devilishly.

“I should hit you,” Caen spat.

“Oh, but hitting is not very ladylike, my lady Water Nymph.”

“Might I remind you that I stole your clothes yesterday? Do I seem to care about being ladylike?”

“You talk like a lady, therefore you are a lady,” Legolas retorted quickly.

“I damn well do not!” Caen snapped. This man was infuriating. “Now will you please tell me what I am doing in your room?”

“Very well, since you said ‘please’. After we danced, you are an excellent dancer, by the way, we sat in the hall and listened to the old hobbit tell a long and drawn-out tale. You fell asleep ten minutes in, and I took the liberty of carrying you to your room. When I didn’t find it and when my arms were getting tired from carrying you to Mordor and back, I decided that it would be easier to just take you here,” Legolas explained.

“Well that’snot quite as exciting as I expected,” Caen commented, calming down. She hadn’t blown it! Good.

She couldn’t sleep with this elf... no matter how absolutely wonderful she knew it would be. She should be able to pull this mission off by simply befriending him. Screw whatever he father said about having to seduce the elves to get information. Being Legolas’ friend would be best. Last night she had allowed herself a little fun, but from now on it was all business...

And none of that business included kissing, flirting, or dancing.

(Damn.)

“I could spice it up a bit, saying that you fainted from exhaustion after I made passionate love to you,” Legolas suggested.

“Oh, but that would be a very tall tale, my scarcely-clothed friend. So tall, that nobody would believe you.” Caen waved her finger in the air. “And now that I have my answer, I will disappear to ready myself for the day, since I seem to still be ready for yesterday,” she gestured to the evening gown that she was still wearing. “Thank you, by the way, for not returning the favor and stealing my clothes.”

“I will see you later, my lady Water Nymph,” Legolas bowed to her.

If there was anything Caen could be damned to do for eternity, it would be working in a library. That was assuming that she could actually read the books as she shelved them.

But no. Elrond never asked her to work in the library. When he asked her to do favors for him, it was usually organizing papers in his study, filing them and wrapping them up in leather to protect them, since he seemed uninterested in actually doing the odious task himself. Who knows why he couldn’t have someone else do it. He always asked Caen to.

As dull as this was, it meant that Caen had access to every important paper on Elrond’s desk. That simple reason was why she actually took on the task. There were correspondences between Elrond and the leaders of many important people all over Middle Earth, all at her fingertips. It made spying extremely easy. Not once did she think twice about reading the most private of information.

Caen was doing exactly this, reading a long and drawn-out letter from Celeborn of Lothlórien (blah, blah, blah... who cares about those trees?), when she heard Elrond and Gandalf the Grey outside the office. She quickly set down those papers and prepared a piece of leather in which to bind the series of letters from Celeborn, making a mental note to finish reading it later. Elrond entered the office first, giving Caen a proud smile and saying, “I see you’re hard at work, my dear.”

“Yes, my Lord, I am,” Caen replied, tying a string around the rolled-up leather and papers.

“My dear, if you’ll excuse Lord Elrond and I, we have personal matters to discuss,” Gandalf said, also smiling and holding open the door for Caen to exit. Caen flashed them her own smile, set down what she was working on, and then exited quietly and docilely. Once the door was shut and locked, she immediately tore down the hallway, ran up a flight of stairs, and entered a room which was not her own. Nobody was inside, luckily. She opened the door to the balcony and leapt into the tree right outside Elrond’s window. Slowly, her heart beating in her ears, she inched toward the quiet conversation that Elrond and Gandalf were having.

“...he has crossed orcs with goblin men, he’s breeding an army in the caverns of Isengard,” Gandalf said to Elrond, his tone grave. Caen smirked at the ingeniousness of Saruman’s work. The army, the Uruk Hai, were strong and durable. They were also being created by the thousands.

Hah. “Good” had no chance.

Caen kept listening. “Gandalf, the Ring cannot stay here,” Elrond said wearily.

The Ring? The Ring was here? This was certainly news! Why had Caen not heard of this before now? Caen smirked to herself, suddenly proud of her good spy-work. She listened until the end of the conversation (it was boring shit about the race of men failing and the world being essentially doomed), and then slipped away to go and find the mysterious hobbit bearing the Ring. Wow... THE Ring! She might actually get to see it! Touch it?

It was said to corrupt whoever was in possession of it. That little hobbit had no chance!

Caen slipped down the tree and walked toward the courtyard, intending to find someone who could direct her to see the hobbit who possessed the Ring. Once in the courtyard, she approached the fountain in the center of it, staring down at the water. She sat on the edge and dipped a hand in it, suddenly struck with memories of the first time she’d seen the fountain. She’d been terrified of what had been happening. She’d only been a child, and she had been abandoned. She remembered it all so well.

---

“Mother, tell me a story, please! Tell me of the princess of the sea!”

“Oh Caen, you do love that story, don’t you?” her mother smiled at her, braiding her auburn hair, so like her own, and twisting its curls between her fingers expertly.

“Yes, I do! I do!” Caen bounced happily.

“Alright then,” her mother conceded. “In a time long ago and in a land far away, there was a sea. And in that sea, there lived a princess. The princess had a mother and father who loved her very much. They lived in a palace of coral and seaweed, and fish and many creatures of the sea were their friends. The Princess had three brothers and two sisters, and the six siblings lived happily together in their coral palace.

“But one day, an evil man came and stole away the Princess. He took rope and bound her hands and feet so she could not swim away and bound her mouth so she could not scream.”

“But she could talk to animals!” Caen inserted happily. She knew this story inside and out.

“Yes, my darling, she could. The princess called upon the animals to save her, but they tried and tried and could not break the ropes. The evil man laughed at their attempts. There was one very small fish, however, and this fish was very afraid. He was so small he knew he could not even try to set the princess free! So he swam as fast as he could to get the handsome prince of the land to come and free her. The prince heard the fish’s call,”

“And came to her rescue!” Caen burst out again.

“You know this story so well, why do you need me to tell it again and again?” her mother asked with a smile.

“Because I like when you tell it, mother!” Caen answered, turning around so her mother could braid the other side of her hair. She loved when her mother braided her hair. Her mother beamed, so proud of her daughter for just being the wonderful child that she was.

“Well, the prince of the land heard the fish’s plea for help and dove into the water. He swam to the princess’s rescue and challenged the evil man. The evil man took up his offer and they dueled the next morning on the seashore.

“The evil man and the prince fought for hours upon hours, but in a moment of distraction brought about by the changing tide, the evil man lost concentration and the prince seized his opportunity. He thrust his sword deep into the evil man’s body, and the evil man died that day on the shore.

“The prince swam and rescued the princess from her prison. They spent much time together, and fell in love. They were married on the shore, the same spot where the prince had fought for the princess’ life, and they lived...”

“Happily ever after!” Caen chimed in with her mother. “I love that story!”

“I know you do,” her mother smiled. Caen wrapped her arms around her mother in a hug only a daughter can share with her mother.

The door opened, and the smiles vanished from the two females’ faces.

“Luía, we need to talk,” the elf in the doorway said, addressing Caen’s mother.

“Caen, go to your room, sweetheart. Your father and I need to talk,” she said, pushing her daughter into another room and shutting the door. But Caen caught the door before it shut all the way, shoving her toes between the door and the doorframe. Caen watched her mother face her father, straightening and glaring at the man.

“I have a new job and I require our daughter.”

“You require her? Tell me, Morthen, what does that mean?”

“I need her to help me with my job, woman! Do you not understand me?” Morthen roared.

“I will not let you enslave our daughter, too!” Luía snarled. “You abused me, your wife. Do you expect me to just hand her over to you after all the damage you’ve done to us?”

“I will do what I want with my daughter!” Morthen challenged, walking around the table and unsheathing a knife as he spoke.

“She is a child, Morthen! A small child, not even old enough to read! I beg of you, do not do this!”

“I WILL DO WHAT I WANT!” Morthen roared, taking the knife and plunging it into Luía’s body.

“You bastard,” Luía spluttered. “You accursed bastard!”

Caen screamed. She did not know how long she screamed and cried for before her father opened the door and covered her mouth with his hand. Caen tried to continue screaming, but she quickly ran out of air, and her lungs begged for more. She bit down on the large and calloused hand and Morthen yelled in frustration. Caen gasped for air.

“Despicable child! You will do what I say!” he yelled at Caen.

Caen, too afraid to do anything else, obeyed him.

She knew she was the kidnapped princess now.

Morthen took her to the edge of the Mirkwood borders, and left her there. “Stay here,” he said. “Say nothing to anyone.”

And Caen obeyed him, too afraid to do anything else, and she said nothing. Somehow her child’s mind she knew she’d end up like her mother if she disobeyed him.

A group of elves on patrol had found her and taken her back to the underground Mirkwood palace, and people had questioned her. One healer elf determined that she could not speak. And she didn’t speak... until she’d seen the boy Prince. Legolas. He was exactly who she needed. A Prince to save her from her evil man. And so she’d spoken her name.

But Legolas didn’t save her. He disappeared entirely from her life, living his own, instead.

Caen didn’t cry thinking about her mother’s murder and her own abandonment so long ago. She’d been young, lost, afraid, exposed... and without a family. So much of that would break a child’s spirit. All of that was a dull pain now. An old and scarred-over wound.

But Caen’s spirit was not broken. She was doomed to a lifetime of memories. Doomed to wishing for a prince to come and rescue her from something nobody knew about.


Chapter 6 - An Obvious Attraction

Chapter 6 : An Obvious Attraction

---

Legolas was strolling through the gardens when he saw her sitting on the fountain. She was dangling her hand into the water, stirring it around with thin fingers. She looked lost in thought, in memory, and Legolas simply watched her for a while, fascinated by the change of her expression. She, like everyone else, did not guard her emotions when she thought nobody was watching. Legolas watched her eyes light up with happiness, then darken with hatred, and then soften slightly as the hatred faded into resentment... and was that longing?

What was she thinking about so deeply? And why did she resent it? What was it that she longed for?

Legolas stood there pondering these questions and Caen sat on the fountain staring at the sky and remembering. Neither elf noticed the other until,

“Oh, Caen! There you are!”

“Good afternoon, Arwen,” Caen said, snapping out of her reverie and drying her wet hand in the folds of her skirt.

“Did you see who’s over there?” Arwen hinted bluntly.

“Who? Oh, you,” Caen spotted Legolas. “Are you following me or something?”

“Actually I am. Care to join me for a walk? I’m in desperate need of fresh air and interesting conversation,” Legolas smiled, knowing that Caen was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Her face, full of animosity towards him, (or was it Arwen?) told him all he needed to know.

“She’d love to!” Arwen said, pulling her sister up and pushing her toward Legolas, who offered Caen his arm. “Go on,” Legolas saw Arwen mouth.

Caen glared at the both of them, took Legolas’ arm, smiled sarcastically at Arwen, and walked away with Legolas.

---

“You know I don’t really want to be walking with you,” Caen muttered as they walked at a polite speed away from the daughter of Elrond.

“You know I don’t really want to be walking with you?” Legolas replied.

“So why did you even ask?”

“I thought you might need rescuing,” Legolas said. Caen dropped his arm because they were out of sight of Arwen.

“Rescuing? From what?” Caen snorted.

“I should have realized you’re a strong woman. You didn’t need rescuing. I offer my apologies,” Legolas said, picking a pink flower and handing it to her in an exaggerated gesture.

“Rescuing from what?” Caen repeated, ignoring the flower.

“Your sister? Yourself? Me?”

“You thought that by asking me to walk with you, you’d be rescuing me from you?” Caen said, amused.

“No, I just felt like adding me onto the list,” Legolas smirked.

“You are arrogant,” Caen shot, crossing her arms.

“And I’m good at it, too!”

“I bet you just love this conversation. Spending all the time talking about yourself must be a real boost to your ego.”

“My ego does not need boosting,” Legolas countered.

“Your intelligence, however...” Caen faded off.

“Is higher than yours.”

“Are you saying that I’m unintelligent?” Caen and Legolas stopped walking, and Caen faced him off.

“You said it, not me!” Legolas held his hands up in defense.

“You’ll stop at nothing, will you?” Caen narrowed her eyes at who was quickly finding a place as both her favorite and least favorite elf in Rivendell.

“No, Lady Water Nymph, I won’t.”

“Will you stop calling me that?” Caen exclaimed.

“I will if you tell me you love me,” Legolas replied with an arrogant smirk.

“You’re behaving like a child, Legolas!”

“No more than you, Caen.”

“I am not a child!”

“And I am not a prince,” Legolas raised his eyebrows.

“If I’m a child, then what are you? An orc? You’re certainly ugly enough to be one.”

“Oh that’s an arrow straight to the heart,” Legolas said sarcastically. “And original. I commend your brilliance.”

“Forget about your heart, I’m going to stab you in the back!” Caen yelled.

“Another original comeback.”

“And your comebacks are original, then?”

“Why yes, in fact, they-”

“Please. Spare me the sermon!”

“This isn’t the way you should be treating a guest, you know. Has Lord Elrond taught you nothing?”

“Obviously your father hasn’t done his job either! You’re not exactly treating me like a lady,” Caen replied.

“I’ll treat you how I want to,” Legolas said with his nose in the air.

“Which-”

Caen wasn’t able to finish her sentence because somebody started laughing. Elladan and Elrohir rounded a bend and Elrohir was applauding. The twins had identical smirks on their faces and their eyes were sparkling mischievously. Elladan had a loaf of bread in his hand that he was munching on as he walked.

“Oh, excellent. Dinner and a show!” he said happily.

“Yes, wonderful show, sister. Certainly entertaining!” Elrohir added. “Only all of Rivendell can hear you two lovebirds bickering.”

“And how amusing it is... but don’t mind us! Carry on!” Elladan waved and the twins passed Legolas and Caen, who were wearing the same expressions of shock.

“LOVEBIRDS!” Caen exclaimed. “We are not lovebirds. We are the farthest thing from lovebirds, Elrohir!”

“You two are already bickering like an old couple,” Elrohir said, still walking away. “It’s obvious there is an attraction between the two of you.”

“THERE IS NOT!” both Caen and Legolas roared at his back.

“My point is proven,” Elrohir said to his brother.

“Yes, it certainly is.”


Chapter 7 - Second Thoughts

Chapter 7 : Second Thoughts

---

Night had long fallen over Rivendell and all the Elves were retreating to their bedchambers to rest. That is, all except one.

Caen was that elf. She was saddling her horse in the stable and preparing to report to her father of the recent happenings of Rivendell. She knew that the news of the Ring’s presence in Rivendell would greatly excite him.

Caen rode her horse past Toad’s pond, thinking of what had happened yesterday. Yesterday morn, she’d been given her assignment, she’d been tossed into that toad-full pond, and she’d been made a real fool of by Legolas. And this afternoon, she’d matched wits with that arrogant Prince. Legolas just seemed to bring out the worst of her, and that irritated her.

At dinner, Legolas had sat with her at the high table, and they had actually had a conversation that didn’t involve insulting each other every other sentence. And Caen enjoyed that. But one question that Legolas had asked still plagued her.

“What do you enjoy doing, Caen?”

She’d escaped that one by simply joking (but not really), “I enjoy working as a spy and by the way, I’m mentally memorizing every word you say to report it to my boss.” Legolas had really enjoyed her “joke”, saying that that was the most original answer he’d ever heard.

Uh, yeah.

But the question still remained unanswered...

What did she enjoy doing?

She enjoyed a lot of things... she enjoyed the thrill of fighting, she enjoyed the everyday habits of being a spy, she enjoyed being able to contradict common society... yet, she also enjoyed reading, sitting in the garden, and singing with the women on festival days. How could she like such diverse things? How was she supposed to fit all those emotions into one person?

But that was it. She wasn’t one person. She was a spy and she was a noble elf.

When she was around Legolas, she felt less a spy and more an elf. A true, real, emotion-feeling, dance-loving elf. She didn’t want to do her job anymore. She didn’t want to seduce Legolas and then betray him. She didn’t want to be alive, if this is what her life would be forever more.

But as much as she didn’t want it, as much as she wanted to ask her father to let her leave, to let her off, she knew that she would never get what she wanted. She would never be rescued by her prince.

The orc on duty was asleep, and Caen rode through the encampment without anything more than the usual catcalls and insults. She dismounted and walked inside her father’s tent.

“I bring news,” she said to her father, who was sitting on his makeshift throne again.

“About time, wench,” her father said to her, drinking his black wine.

DON’T CALL ME A WENCH! Caen wanted to scream. But she didn’t.

“The Ring is in Rivendell in the possession of a Halfling. Elrond does not want it to stay in Rivendell and neither does the wizard, Gandalf the Gray,” Caen said, impassive in every way she could be. She showed no emotion in her eyes, in her stance, and in her voice.

“Is that all you bring me? What of the Prince?” Morthen asked.

“I have not had an adequate chance to coerce information out of him. The Prince is hard to get to; he has emotional walls built around him. I have to break down those walls before he will trust me enough to tell me anything,” Caen lied through her teeth. She didn’t want to seduce that damned elf and she wasn’t going to tell her father that she wouldn’t.

“There is not much time to fulfill this mission, Caen. You must do this quickly or face your own death,” Morthen warned. Caen knew he would not hesitate to carry out this statement. He had not hesitated to kill his own wife. What would be different about his only child?

“I have nothing more to say,” Caen informed him.

“Then you will leave,” Morthen replied coldly.

Caen did leave. She leapt on her horse and left, ignoring all the catcalls and wishing that she could stick a knife through her father’s heart.


Chapter 8 - Like You Needed a Friend

Chapter 8 : Like You Needed a Friend

---

Caen found herself yawning almost constantly the next morning, thinking that she has got to stop doing these midnight trips to report to her father, or she’ll probably die from lack of sleep.

“Good morning, Water Nymph,” an unfortunately familiar voice said from behind her.

“Good morning, Prince Almighty,” Caen said dryly.

“Oh, I do like the sound of that one,” Legolas said, pulling out the chair right next to her and sitting in it.

“I knew you would,” Caen replied.

“You know me too well, then.”

“Oh, I am sure it is to the contrary. I know you very little.”

“You know me well enough,” Legolas said, trailing off.

“You know, it’s much too early for us to argue,” Caen informed him, putting her head in her hands and closing her eyes. She’d been up all night, even after she’d gotten back from her trip to Morthen’s encampment. She’d been thinking about that damn question that Legolas had asked. ‘What do you enjoy doing?’ And then she had spent time wondering about her seemingly split personalities, and by the time she finished arguing with herself about whether she was crazy or not, it was well into the night.

She decided that she was most likely insane.

“How was your night?” Legolas asked, taking a bite of the food that he had just stolen from Caen’s plate.

“Long,” Caen replied. She wasn’t in the mood for real conversation just yet. “You know, I think I’m going to go for a walk,” she said, standing and pushing her chair in. Legolas stood up, too.

“I’m coming with you,” Legolas said in a tone that offered no other option than to let him. They exited out a door onto a terrace and began an aimless trek.

“Alright. But if I fall asleep on you, you’ll have to carry me,” Caen warned. Legolas darted sideways and picked her up. “Put me down!” Caen yelled indignantly.

“No,” Legolas said stubbornly.

“Why are you carrying me?” Caen exclaimed, wanting to both beat him and curl into his arms and fall asleep at the same time. She felt her split personalities battling between themselves, both trying to win.

“Because I don’t doubt that you will fall asleep, you’re like a walking corpse. So I’ll be one step ahead by carrying you,” Legolas said. Caen hadn’t expected that.

“Will you put me down while there are people to stare and gossip?” Caen asked timidly. Timidly, she scorned herself. She never did anything timidly.

“No,” Legolas said again.

“Then at least carry me to a place where people can’t stare and gossip,” Caen said exasperatedly. She realized that she wasn’t going to win the battle of wits. Not right now, so she gave up.

Anyway, it felt kind of nice to be carried by Legolas...

That was her last thought before she fell asleep.

---

Caen awoke, not aware of where she was. She was warm, she was comfortable... she had leaves in her hair? Caen sat up, glanced to her left, saw no one, glanced to her right, and saw a familiar blonde head sitting in a tree.

“Wood Elf!” she called. She felt so much better, though mortified that she’d fallen asleep in Legolas’ arms. She stretched her arms up and yawned loudly.

“Water Nymph!” he replied, not looking up from his work. He had taken a knife out and was using it to whittle a relatively small tree branch into an animal carving. Small chips of wood were falling down onto the ground 10 feet below him.

“Where are we?” Caen asked. A small voice in the back of her brain told her, ‘Don’t do it. Don’t get close to him.’ Physically or mentally speaking.

“We’re somewhere,” Legolas replied, finishing his work and tossing it down at her feet. She saw that it was a fish. “Why does it matter?”

“Why did you throw a fish at me?” Caen asked, picking it up and examining it closely. Legolas wasn’t great, but he’d obviously had some experience in woodwork.

“You looked like you needed a friend,” Legolas said with a sincere smile. Caen, unable to help herself, smiled too.

“I have friends,” Caen shrugged.

“You’re lying,” Legolas said, suddenly serious. “You might be able to lie to other people, but Caen, it won’t work on me. I’ve had too much experience in the field,” Legolas hopped lightly down from the tree and walked over to her. “Whatever you have lying behind those green eyes of yours is a lot more obvious than you think it is.”

“I have nothing behind my eyes,” Caen said defensively.

“Yes you do, and because you just denied it you practically just shouted out your secrets to me,” Legolas said smoothly. “I won’t ask, but I do know,” he warned.

“Well I know I’m not the only one hiding things,” Caen replied.

There was a pregnant silence between the two of them and then suddenly, “It’s my father,” Legolas burst out.

“King Thranduil?” Caen asked, extremely curious. “What about him?”

“He wants so much of me. He wants me to fight, he wants me to wed, he wants me to take the crown and rule Mirkwood with a beautiful queen by my side. I don’t think I can do that,” Legolas said, and for the first time Caen saw desperation behind his cool blue eyes.

“If I could just escape from the ‘your highness’s and ‘yes, my prince’s I would gladly trade my arm,” Legolas finished desperately. “Do you understand what I am saying?”

Yes! My father has enslaved me and I hate my job.

“I understand, Legolas,” Caen replied softly. Legolas pulled Caen into his arms and hugged her.

“You really are a friend,” Legolas said.

“See, I told you I wasn’t lying.”


Chapter 9 - The Girl That Died

Chapter 9 : The Girl that Died

---

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get away from him.

And no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t make herself hate it.

Caen and Legolas were spending nearly all their time together. Their matching wits and constant bickering were obvious signs to the people of Rivendell that they had a new pair of lovers on their hands. But to Legolas and Caen, their friendship was simply deepening.

Or that’s what they told themselves.

Legolas was in the dining room with the group of elves he had traveled with to Rivendell. They were chatting merrily and he was ignoring them.

He looked up from his plate and spotted Caen walking out of the room. He’d been purposely avoiding her all day because of the constant taunting from his fellow Mirkwood elves. During the short time Legolas had spent with his friends, they had constantly teased him about spending his days with Caen.

So Legolas stood up from the table and left the room. He called a lame excuse over his shoulder to satisfy his friends, and followed Caen out of the room.

“Stop trying to be silent, Prince. I know you’re there,” Caen said. She was sitting on a bench and had a book in her hands.

“I’m not trying to be silent,” Legolas said. “I am succeeding in being silent.”

“Obviously not, because I heard you.”

“Well then, you must have magical powers with which you use to hear me. And so I request your magical presence to accompany me on a walk,” Legolas said, not missing a beat.

“Was that almost a compliment? And don’t we spend enough time walking?”

“It was most definitely not a compliment, and no, we do not spend enough time walking,” Legolas replied.

“What, then, will persuade me to go on a walk with you?” Caen asked.

“My charming disposition and my dashingly good looks?” Legolas tried.

“How about the promise of intelligent conversation?” Caen supplied.

“Ah, yes. Intelligent conversation,” Legolas agreed.

“Then I will most definitely accompany you on a walk.” Caen took Legolas’ proffered arm and they walked. Caen left her book on the bench.

Caen had spent all day wishing that Legolas was there with her, and yet being glad that he wasn’t. When Legolas was there, it unsettled her. Countless years of service to her father had proved useful, however, because Caen was able to mask her discontent and replace it with confidence. This was proving to be a difficult task, though. Legolas’ earlier outburst about his father’s pressure on him showed Caen that Legolas trusted her enough to tell her information he probably did not tell anyone else.

Her father would be delighted to find out that Legolas trusted her. But Caen wanted to vomit. She’d already told herself that she wasn’t going to fall in love with him, and she certainly was not going to fulfill this mission.

She would not. She would not. She damned well would not.

Legolas’ trust in her made her want to spill out her deepest and darkest secrets to him. And those secrets were most definitely dark.

“Why are you so quiet?” Legolas asked softly. They came to a fork, and they took the right fork in the road, leading into the forest.

I’m brooding because you trust me and I hate that. It makes my life too easy. WHY CAN’T YOU HATE ME!

“Oh, no reason,” Caen replied.

“You can tell me. I’m a friend, not a foe,” Legolas smiled down at her sweetly. That made Caen want to melt.

Stop that.

“I can’t tell you,” Caen said, shaking her head. Not now. She couldn’t tell him ever.

“I know we only met a few days ago, but you can trust me. I keep secrets well,” Legolas assured. This was one of those rare, but becoming more frequent, moments when these two elves didn’t feel the need to bicker.

There was a long pause. “No... we didn’t just meet a few days ago, Legolas,” Caen said softly, in a very desperate voice that she didn’t know she possessed.

“What do you mean?” Legolas asked, confused.

“I remember it so well. Don’t you remember?” Caen said. Legolas heard the masked pain in her voice and wondered whether this was what he had observed her thinking about the day before yesterday.

“I’m afraid I don’t follow,” Legolas said, confused but eager.

“You were young, I was too. I was in a small room, and you sat next to me. Your father was there, and a brash healer, too. I did not speak to anyone but you. Do you remember now?”

“You... were that girl?” Legolas asked, suddenly seeing the connection between the haunting girl of his past and the brazen girl of his present.

“I am not that girl,” Caen said darkly. “I am her, but now molded into what others want me to be. That girl died that day, along with her mother...” Tears threatened to fall, but Caen refused to let them. She blinked until they disappeared, and then mentally hit herself because she had almost cried.

Legolas was speechless. He had never forgotten that girl. She had disappeared the very next day, and Thranduil had refused to tell Legolas where she had gone. Legolas had wanted to play with her. It had made him very sad that she had left. But now with that girl in front of him once more, it made him realize that even the smallest occurrences in life could make the largest impact.

Caen certainly had.

Caen was staring at the ground with a blank stare that Legolas knew was masking her pain. But when he lifted her chin up with gentle fingers, Legolas only saw determination and power behind those green eyes.

So Legolas did the only thing he could think of. He drew her into his arms and held her tight.


Chapter 10 - Magical Moments

Chapter 10 : Magical Moments

Legolas was holding her.

And not letting go.

And Caen didn’t care.

At that moment, when her past was finally revealed to him, her very distant, vague past, she felt like she was completely bared. She no longer cared what happened, who saw, or what was said. It was just her and Legolas. And she loved it.

Caen could hear his heartbeat and it lulled her into a magical moment. She closed her eyes and listened to it, listened to the steady thump of his heart. Neither elf knew how long they were standing there, only that in that exact moment, they were at one with each other.

Legolas pulled back and looked at Caen. “Shall we continue with our walk?” Legolas asked, sad that he had to break the moment.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” Caen said. Half of her wanted to roll her eyes at such a comment, and the other half wanted to slip her hand into his and lean on his shoulder forever. She contented herself by deciding to not do either one. However, Legolas had a different plan. He took her hand and laced his fingers between hers, drawing her body close to his.

It was moments like this, Caen reminded herself, that kept the fairytales of love alive.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The next morning, Legolas and Caen were lounging on a bench by a fountain when they heard a bell ring in the distance. Legolas jerked in surprise, causing Caen, who had been leaning on his shoulder, to lose her balance and end up with her head in Legolas’ lap. Legolas was staring tensely in the direction of the main hall.

“What? What is it?” Caen asked quietly, sitting up and feeling slightly embarrassed at her thought of just staying there in his lap.

“It’s the summoning bell?” Legolas answered distractedly.

“Summoning bell to what?” Caen asked, even though she already knew the answer.

“To the council.”

“A council about what?” Caen asked coyly. It was fun acting like she didn’t know. Just how much does Legolas trust me…?

“I can’t tell you,” Legolas said. Caen mentally deflated. I thought he trusted me… “I honestly don’t know,” he added.

Oh. Caen smiled to herself.

“Come on, Let’s go back,” Legolas said, taking Caen’s hand and walking quickly back toward the buildings.

“You can’t come, but I promise I’ll tell you all about it after dinner.” Legolas squeezed her hand.

“That’s a lie.” Caen caught herself smiling.

“What?”

“You’ll tell me before dinner,” Caen replied with a smirk.

“You’ve caught me,” Legolas replied. The bell rang again.

“Now go away or you’ll be the only elf who has to stand while some dwarf takes your seat.”

Legolas laughed, kissed Caen on the cheek, and left.

Caen stared after him, smiling dumbly. She raised her hand to touch the place where Legolas had kissed her. Ahh! She thought to herself, alarmed. Why did I enjoy that!

Oh shit…

She was getting feelings for him. This wasn’t good… this was NOT good…

Caen shook her head to clear her senses and hurried off, running to find a place to hide and watch the council. She should have been there earlier, WAY before everyone else arrived, but when Legolas had knocked on her door that morning with breakfast in his hands, Caen couldn’t say no.

She ended up crawling underneath the deck-type area the Council was taking place on. Ideally, she should have found a spot where she could see and hear, but at the last minute, beggars can’t be choosers.

The council was no short one. But in short, Elrond announced that the Ring was in their midst, Boromir, a human of Gondor, spoke one argument, that they should use the ring against Sauron, and Aragorn, that filthy human that Arwen seemed to so adore, convinced the council that it was inadvisable and impossible to do so. Legolas spoke too, and for a while Caen smiled as she listened to his voice.

Then, a sound from nearby. Caen whipped around, horrified, to see a blonde-haired hobbit staring right at her.


Chapter 11 - An Interruption

Chapter 11: An Interruption

Caen’s eyes widened at the sight of the hobbit and gasped softly. After all these years, I’ve been caught…

But suddenly she had an idea. She slyly put her finger to her lips and winked. The hobbit’s face relaxed into a grin and winked in return. Silently, Caen slipped off and dashed back to her room. The Council was almost over, after all… she was sure she wouldn’t miss much.

She had just managed to settle down on the bench on her balcony with a book when she heard Legolas knock on the door. She had just enough time to flip the book right side up when he stepped in the room, ashen-faced and looking downright terrified.

“Legolas, is something wrong?” Caen asked, standing and walking over to him. She touched his arm and felt that he was shaking.

“I’ve done something very, very stupid,” Legolas said, “And I’ll pay for it. Soon.”

Caen frowned. “What do you mean, Legolas? Was it something during the council?” Caen didn’t remember Legolas saying or doing anything particularly stupid. There was that one outburst, but…

“I’m going with eight other companions to Mordor. We’re going to destroy the Ring,” Legolas said quietly, staring right into Caen’s soul. Caen’s heart skipped a beat.

“MORDOR?!” she exclaimed. “You can’t go to Mordor, Legolas! You’ll be-”

“Killed,” Legolas finished for her. “Or worse…”

“Oh Legolas, you can’t leave,” me, she added silently.

“But I must. I’ve messed up. I let Gollum escape, and I can’t let that failure taint me,” Legolas said firmly. “I have to prove to my father that I am still worthy, and I have to prove such to you,” Legolas’ eyes were piercing straight into her; Caen could feel him probing into her darkest secrets. No, you must not see that I am a lie! She broke eye contact with him.

“You have to prove nothing to me,” Caen said, stiffly. “You’ve proved to me that you’re a self-absorbed, arrogant, ass of a Prince who-”

Legolas bent down and in a single moment he had wrapped his arms around her waist and drawn her into him. He placed his lips on hers and gave her the most delightful kiss she had ever received in her life. He teased her and he loved her; he was perfect for her, and she knew it in that moment.

When he pulled back, there was such a look of love in his eyes that it made Caen want to cry; nobody had ever looked at her like that…

“Would you like to finish your statement?” Legolas murmured softly, grinning from ear to ear.

“Yes, you’re an ass of a Prince who is a great kisser,” Caen said breathlessly.

And then Legolas proceeded to prove her statement once again.


Chapter 12 - Because I Love You

Chapter 12 : Because I Love You

The next few days of Caen’s life were the happiest she had ever felt. During that time, she wanted nothing out of life but to spend the rest of her days at Legolas’ side. She spent her days with him and she spent her nights wishing he were there. She felt fulfilled, and for the first time in her life, she felt carefree. And she came to realize that around him, she was content with everything that life had given her. She no longer wanted to seek for more, and no longer needed the lust that danger created for her. And so as she spent her time with Legolas, the Rivendell public would look on, smile, and raise their eyebrows to each other, as if to say, “I told you so.”

Caen was soaking in her tub one chilly afternoon, smiling to herself as she thought about her morning. She and Legolas had been by the lake, laughing and bantering as they often did, when the rain had started. They started running to go inside, but Caen had tripped over a rock and fell face-first into the mud, and she took Legolas down with her. They rolled around getting their clothes filthy and laughing their heads off, when lightning cracked overhead. That was when they decided they should really get inside. But it ended up taking more time than would have been expected, because Legolas kept pulling her back against him and kissing her.

Caen sighed in contentment and sunk under the water level, where she held her breath for as long as she could. And when she rose again, it was to be met with a pair of silver-grey eyes staring at her. Caen jumped and exclaimed, “Arwen!”

“Good morning, dear sister.” Arwen looked smug; more content and self-fulfilled than she had ever looked before.

“You frightened me, what do you want?” Caen asked. She was surprised that her voice did not hold resentment at her sister butting in, just as she has done for centuries.

“I just came in her to say, I told you so,” Arwen grinned.

Caen decided that she was clean enough and so she rose and stepped out of the tub and wrapped a towel around her body. She actually found herself blushing at Arwen’s statement.

“You told me so, what?” Caen asked, pretending to not know what Arwen was talking about.

“I told you that you and Legolas were perfect for each other,” Arwen replied smugly.

“No you didn’t,” Caen protested weakly. “But he is perfect, isn’t he?” she couldn’t help but add.

“You should listen to me more often,” Arwen said. “But right now, I must go and find Estel… he is waiting for me in the library,” she said coyly. And she walked over and kissed Caen on the cheek. Caen returned the gesture. “Be good, sister,” she said, and then walked out the door.

Caen felt confused as she watched the elf that she normally could not stand walk out the door. All her life she had been exasperated with Arwen’s doings and outlook on life. She was simply too lighthearted. Didn’t she know about all the evil in the world? Didn’t she know what was going on right in her own household? Didn’t she know that life was not as simple as it seems?

But as she watched the door close and the handle turn, Caen truly appreciated who her sister was. She was strong, beautiful, and most importantly: she was right. About everything, she was right.

“Go.”

“No.”

“Go.”

“No!”

“Legolas, seriously, I need to sleep!” Caen tried to push Legolas out the door, but he was stubbornly not moving.

“You do not, you’re an elf! Elves don’t sleep,” he persisted.

“This one does, you arrogant Prince. Now get out,” Caen pushed him out, but before he disappeared, he held her hand in his and kissed her fingers delicately.

“Then I bid you goodnight,” Legolas said in a formal manner, but his eyes presented a different, intimate look. He looked positively impish, as if he was planning something. “My lady,” he added. And as Caen closed the door and let out a long breath, she made up her mind: She was going to go and face her father tonight.

Legolas did not go to his room; he was not ready to retire for the night. He instead went outside to the lake, where he and Caen had been the other day when they had been caught in the rain. He stood on a dock and stared out into the dark waters, the moon casting her soft glow onto the water. He stood there for a moment and let the peace sink into him. Oh, this is what I live for, he thought, the simple pleasures. But why is this happening to me now, when I feel like I am going to my death in no time at all? I cannot die, I cannot die, I cannot die; there is too much to live for.

He strengthened his resolve; he would survive this war, and turned to return to his room and rest. He heard hoof beats and saw a figure riding into the forest, and curiosity overwhelmed him. Who would be out at this hour? They were not heading toward the border, but into the forest. He picked up speed and followed them.

He stayed far behind them, far enough not to be seen or heard. They were female, he could tell that much, and they looked a lot like… but no, she was asleep in her room.

They traveled in the dark and Legolas’ curiosity mounted with every step. Where was this person going?

Then to his absolute horror, they came to an encampment. The stench was overwhelming. Orcs, he thought with venom. He wanted to spit on the ground. They were foul creatures, hardly worthy of living. They showed no mercy to his people, and so he showed none to them. Legolas slipped a dagger out of his boot, for he always kept one in his boot, and approached the encampment.

He watched the figure dismount and enter a tent, so he skirted around the camp to the back of that tent. He listened intently.

“It’s about time that you got here,” a man said, sounding disgusted. “I’ve been waiting an entire WEEK for your report.”

There was a pause, then, “You will get no report,” the other replied. Legolas gasped. Caen! That is Caen! But… what are they talking about? What report? Legolas was dumbfounded. Was Caen a spy?

“What are you talking about, you miserable excuse of an elf?”

“You will get no report,” Caen repeated, sounding strong and persistent.

“For your entire life you have been loyal to my cause! For the cause of Lord Sauron. And now, in our most important cause, you back out? There is no returning! You’re past that point, daughter!”

Daughter? Legolas thought. That man is her father? Rage flowed through him. What kind of father speaks to his daughter like that?

But her Father did not stop at that. “And I suppose you’re going to tell me that you can’t fulfill your simplest mission yet? All you had to do was bed the Prince. Get some lousy information out of him and then kill him.”

Legolas froze. He was a mission. She was told to seduce him by her father? And that’s the only reason she ever… she ever…

But for Caen, that seemed to be the absolute last straw, for she yelled, “The only reason I ever, ever went along with this was because I knew I would die if I didn’t. I had a family then, I had a life, and you ruined it. I’ve put up with this for too long. You know what? I don’t care about you anymore. You taught me how to fight, how to kill without feeling, and I’ve done every little thing you’ve told me to, no matter how I felt, because I didn’t feel. I am better than you, and I am better than your cause, and I am through with this,” she said it with such force that even he was astonished, and then he heard her spit on the ground.

Her father roared and there was a loud smack and Caen cried out. Legolas couldn’t help it, he shook with rage. He raged because Caen had lied to him, and raged because Caen was being used and he could do nothing about it.

There was another thud sound and it sounded like this time, her father had knocked her out, for there was no cry of pain. Legolas heard him spit, and he then heard the man yell to someone who must have been outside the tent.

“Take my daughter and deposit her somewhere where she can die. She no longer deserves life,” Caen’s father hissed to the orc.

“Yes, my Lord,” the orc said in a cracked voice. And a few minutes later, he saw that two orcs were carrying an unconscious Caen away from the camp, talking together in their native language.

Legolas, confused and infuriated, followed the two orcs deep into the forest. They took her to Toad’s pond, where he and Caen had first encountered each other, and watched silently as they tossed her in the pond, gripping his knife as he readied himself to attack; he didn’t have much time. Right as they let go of her body, Legolas jumped up and stabbed the first orc in the neck. That one collapsed onto the ground, twitching and writhing until he stilled. The second orc was harder to kill, and it actually put up a momentary fight, but Legolas prevailed, feinting one direction and closing in to stab it through its head. He collapsed, too, and Legolas threw his knife aside and dove into the pond to get Caen.

She was motionless, and he brought her above water. He coughed as he inhaled water and swam to shore. He dragged her onto the earth and bent over her, fearing it was too late with every fiber of his being. If she died… no matter how hurt he was to learn of her lies, he loved her. He didn’t know why, but he loved her.

He put his mouth to hers and blew air into her lungs. He waited and took her hand in his, and squeezed it. He felt for a pulse in her wrist. There was a pulse! But it was faint. He lowered himself to blow air into her again, and again, and again, until… he felt her move her hand in his. Suddenly, she leaned over and coughed blood and water onto the ground. And then she relaxed, but soon fell into a coughing fit again. Legolas held her while she shook, and then, finally, she spoke.

“You followed me,” she croaked.

“Yes, I did,” he answered softly, stroking her wet hair and face.

“Why?” she asked.

“Because I love you,” he answered sincerely. And then, as if in amazement, he repeated more quietly, “Because I love you.”


Chapter 13 - If She'll Have You

Chapter 13: If She’ll Have You

Legolas carried her back to Rivendell. He carried her, and she slept in his arms. The entire time he debated silently with himself. He held a criminal in his arms. He loved the criminal in his arms. He would do anything for the criminal in his arms.

Anor broke the valley’s horizon, and sunlight began to shine down on them.

She was bleeding; her father hadn’t only knocked her unconscious, he had cut her, too. There was a long, deep slash down her side and across her stomach. Legolas could feel the blood seeping through his shirt that he had bound across her stomach. He was worried for her, and as he entered the Rivendell palace and called for Lord Elrond, he clutched at her unconscious form. She had lost a lot of blood and lost consciousness on the trip back.

A servant heard him and shrieked as she saw the unconscious and bleeding form of Caen in Legolas’ arms. “Fetch Lord Elrond, quickly!” Legolas shouted at her as she scurried off down a hallway. Legolas walked toward the healing rooms quickly and silently, looking down at Caen to reassure himself she was still alive every few seconds. She will be fine, Legolas thought fervently. He was getting worried about the amount of blood she had lost.

Lord Elrond, looking alert and stern as always showed up just as Legolas was opening the door to the healing rooms. He took one look at Caen and pointed to a free bed in the very corner of the room. “How long has she been unconscious?” he asked as Legolas set her down.

“Less than an hour,” Legolas replied, touching Caen’s brow lovingly. He tried not to think that she wouldn’t heal. No matter how much he tried to be angry at her for lying to him, he couldn’t do it. Not while Caen was lying there, so vulnerable. His thoughts were interrupted by Elrond shouting for an assistant. And with the assistant healer’s help they took off Caen’s clothing and inspected the wound. Elrond worked flawlessly, boiling herbs and sewing up the long gash across her stomach. Legolas stared intently at her skin, perfect except for the blood. He felt anger, an intense anger at Caen’s father. How could he have done this? This was unfair. Caen deserved better. No matter what she’d done.

“Legolas,” Elrond said to him, coaxing him back out of his thoughts.

“Yes, Lord Elrond?” Legolas replied quickly, blinking the daze out of his eyes.

“Who did this to her?” Elrond asked. Legolas noticed that he did not ask, ‘why’.

“It was her father, my Lord,” Legolas replied.

Lord Elrond did not look confused; he looked intrigued. “Her father? But she came to us as an orphan.”

“I do not know the full story, my Lord, but from what I heard-”

“You were eavesdropping, I assume,” Lord Elrond interrupted.

“Yes, sir,” Legolas said, looking at his boots. There was a blood stain on them, and he looked once more at Caen, sleeping peacefully. She would be conscious soon, and she would… “She was a spy,” Legolas said quietly. “Her father has been using her for centuries. It seemed that he abandoned her when she was young and came back for her when she was old enough to be of use.”

“And did she choose that life? Or was she forced into it?” Lord Elrond speculated.

“I know not, my Lord,” Legolas admitted, unnerved by Lord Elrond’s calm demeanor. Shouldn’t he be reacting a little more strongly to find out that his charge had been betraying him for years?

“I always suspected something was wrong with Caen,” Lord Elrond spoke, as if reading Legolas’ mind. “I remember when she was scarcely of age. She disappeared for a week, and when she came back, she was a very different person. She concentrated with more vigor, she was calm, cool, and collected in all situations, and her close friendship with Arwen started to dissipate. It was as if she’d been ordered to become a different person. In retrospect, I suppose my suspicions were true,” Lord Elrond said calmly.

Legolas gaped at Elrond. How could this man have suspected so many things and never said anything to anyone. How could he have sat by and watched Caen deceive him?

Leaning forward, Legolas voiced the question he was most intent on knowing the answer to. “What will happen to her?”

“I do not know yet, Legolas. I do not know.” Lord Elrond stood up to leave the healing chambers, looking tired and weary. “I know that is not the answer you want, but it is the only one I can offer at this moment.” He turned to leave.

“Lord Elrond?” Legolas said before he could stop himself.

“Yes?”

“I wish to offer for your daughter, Caen’s hand,” Legolas said with confidence.

“I would be glad to welcome you into our family. That is, if she’ll have you,” Lord Elrond said cryptically and walked out the door.


Chapter 14 - A Forced Agreement

Chapter 14 : A Forced Agreement

Caen was exhilarated. She had just attended her coming-of-age ceremony, and planned on spending the night feasting and celebrating with her fellows. Her adoptive sister Arwen looked on jealously, knowing that in a few years she could be the one dancing, the one with flowers weaved in her hair. Caen took her sister by the hand and said with a smile,

“Come now, your day isn’t far off!”

“Yes, I know. But that is a whole fifteen years away!” Arwen whined. Caen squeezed her hand and twirled around with her sister.

“But imagine what can happen in fifteen years! I could be married in fifteen years!” Caen squealed and danced around, all woes or painful memories forgotten in that moment of happiness. In the distance, the sun was setting and torches were being lit for the dance out on the lawn near the lake. Already, in the fiery light Caen and Arwen saw that people were dancing out on the lawn, celebrating the coming-of-age of a new generation.

“You could be married in two if you wanted,” Arwen said. “You are even more beautiful than usual tonight, sister!”

“I will never be as beautiful as you,” Caen smiled down at her sister. How glad she was that night that she could celebrate with the family that had welcomed her with open arms. She would never forget that day, when her father murdered her mother… but no; no sad thoughts tonight. She would not dwell on that.

Caen took her sister’s hand and they dashed down the lawn, dresses flying out behind them in the wind. Once they had reached the crowd of people, Arwen was immediately asked to dance by a handsome elf in the group Caen had come of age with that night. Arwen beamed at Caen, who winked back at her and motioned for her to go and have fun.

Caen did not have much time alone before someone asked her to dance. She accepted, smiling blushingly. But as the man walked her into the dance, Caen looked up into the man’s face and paused.

“Have I met you before, sir?” she asked, puzzled. She felt as if she had known this person from another lifetime. It was quite possible. Or perhaps he was from the village, but no… his clothes were much too fine for that.

“Once or twice, Lady Caen,” the man answered offhandedly. This statement unsettled Caen. She couldn’t wait for this dance to be over and she could find a less unnerving partner. “You dance very well. You have grown up to be a very beautiful lady,” the man said smoothly. With all propriety, Caen answered,

“Thank you, my lord.”

The rest of the dance passed with uncomfortable gazes between the man and Caen, and when the dance ended, Caen curtsied and bade the man goodnight, but he took her arm in his and said, “Will you walk with me, Lady Caen?”

Caen agreed, though she had a better mind to decline. He led her away from the party until all they could see were the lights.

“Sir, I do not think it is a good idea for me to be away for this long. My sister will miss me, I-” The man clamped his hand over Caen’s mouth and she let out a muffled scream.

“Be quiet, Caen,” he said maliciously. “You will listen to what I have to say.” All of his suave manners were gone and his eyes glinted in the moonlight. Green eyes; much like her own. Suddenly, Caen realized how she knew this elf.

She bit his hand and screamed, “You!” before trying to get away. The man was too fast for her, and he grabbed her arm, ripping her dress and bruising her skin.

“Yes, me,” he hissed.

“I want nothing to do with you, Father,” she whimpered. “You abandoned me and I want to stay with my family,” she pleaded. Her childhood fear of her father was not gone, though the nightmares had long since faded.

“Oh you’ll get to stay with your family, I will not take you away from them… but if you do not obey, I’ll take them away from you,” he threatened.

“Wh-What do you mean?” Caen asked, fearfully.

“I mean that I’ll kill them if you don’t obey me,” Caen’s father replied in a malicious whisper.

“No! You wouldn’t!” Caen screamed in terror, trying to get away from him again.1

“Just do what I ask and they’ll stay safe,” he warned.

Caen could see no other option. “I will, my Lord,” she whispered. “Just please, do not hurt my family.”

“Very good, very good. I will come for you when I have need of you. Tell no one.” And with the last word, Caen’s father disappeared into the night. Caen sunk to the ground, crying. She was afraid, so afraid, and didn’t know what to do. Turning to face the party, Caen found she had no desire to go back to dance and pretend like there was nothing wrong. She held her father to his word… he would kill her family if she told them. So she went back to her room and she tried to sleep… even if she couldn’t.



Chapter 15 - Come What May

Chapter Fifteen : Come What May

Damnit. He’d followed her. Not that she didn’t appreciate that, because... well, he’d saved her life because he’d followed her. And she wished she could have told him herself… she should have told him it was all a lie. But she didn’t feel like it was a lie. She didn’t know who she was anymore…

“You’re awake!” a voice said shrilly.

“Arwen,” Caen smiled, watching as her sister entered the room carrying a flower with her.

“How are you feeling?” Arwen asked, sitting on Caen’s bed and holding her hand. She’d set the flower on the bed beside her.

“Better,” Caen answered. “Much better.” Caen had woken up several times during the last few days, but not long enough to answer any questions or eat any food. A healer elf approached the bed with a steaming bowl of soup. He handed it to Arwen, who helped Caen eat it. And while Caen ate, the sisters talked. For the first time in what seemed like forever, they really talked.

Caen felt that she owed Arwen an explanation and an apology for her behavior, so she explained everything to her. Arwen’s eyes grew wide as Caen told her of how her father had lured her out into the forest and threatened her, and how she’d had no choice but to accept.

Arwen lowered her gaze when Caen said that, as if gathering herself to say something. “What?” Caen asked, peering into the elf’s face.

“You may not have had a choice, but you sound like for a while you really did like what you were doing. You were really faithful to the other side.” Arwen took Caen’s hand and stared into Caen’e eyes. “Think about that, sister.”

“I need to think about nothing. My allegiance is to my family now. My allegiance is to the good of the world, not to malice!”

“Caen, this is not about the now... This is about your past. You will stand on trial soon. There is no guarantee anymore,” Arwen said gravely. Caen knew what she was talking about. She would be lucky to get off with her life.

Caen drank from a glass of water she had beside her bed, trying to wet her suddenly dry throat. “Arwen, I am afraid,” she said, leaning into her sister’s warm embrace.

“I’ll always be here, sister,” Arwen whispered, a tear leaking. She didn’t want to lose the only sister she’s ever known.

--

Several days later, Caen lay in bed anticipating the dawn to come. She had been released from the healing ward and she could not sleep, nor could she bear to move. She was healed, but other things tormented her mind.

There was a knock on her bedroom door, and although the visitor didn’t make a sound, she knew who was entering.

“Finally decided to show up, did you? That’s an entire day that you haven’t come to visit me, you know,” Caen said flatly, but she allowed a smile to betray the way she really felt as Legolas walked in.

“I beg your forgiveness, my lady Caen, but this elf has other duties than to see to your every whim,” Legolas replied, sitting on the edge of the bed and clasping Caen’s hand in his. He brought it up to his lips and placed a loving kiss on her knuckles that made her hand tingle.

“My every whim? Not true,” Caen said.

“’Legolas, will you fetch me that book?’, ‘Legolas will you rub my back?’, ‘Legolas, just stay here with me.’” Legolas imitated in a high-pitched voice.

“I do not sound like that, and you enjoyed doing those things, whims or not,” Caen retorted.

“But they are still whims,” Legolas grinned cheekily.

“Fine, I concede that.”

Legolas leant in and kissed her forehead. “Much as I enjoy bickering with you, that’s not the reason I came by. Elrond has sent scouts out to your father’s camp, and even now we expect your father’s capture and imprisonment,” Legolas said quietly.

Caen sat up straighter and said firmly, “Legolas, they’re not going to find him. They have dark magic on their side, and besides that, many years of operating in total silence. They will not win; that is not how they will capture my father.”

“Well how should we accomplish this?” Legolas replied.

“I’m… not sure. But I know this: He has to be killed once captured. He would escape a prison easily. He has before now.”

“Then I will find him and kill him if there is no other way,” Legolas said boldly.

“No! Please, Legolas. Don’t do that. He’d kill you, and you have other things that are more important to fulfill than my father’s murder.”

“Loyalty is important to me. My loyalty and love to you overrides everything else in my life,” Legolas said passionately.

“IS that so? What about your loyalty to your kingdom? Your loyalty to your quest to destroy the Ring?” Caen challenged.

“Love Is more important than that,” Legolas countered. “I would give up my title for you.”

“Legolas,” Caen said, tearing up, “Love can only get us so far. I am as good as dead now, my trial is upcoming and I will not be judged by my allies or friends. They will order my death, possibly my exile if I am lucky. I have done horrible things in the past all of which I regret now, but they will not see things that way.” By then, Caen was crying, tears rolling down her cheeks and into her nightgown. Legolas stilled.

She was right. In all likelihood, she would be sentenced to death.

“Come what may, I will stand by you. You will not be without an ally.”

“Thank you, Legolas.” Caen hugged him tightly to her, wishing will all her heart that things could be different.


Chapter 16 - Anor Rises Now

Chapter 16: Anor rises now

Legolas left Caen’s bedroom with fire in his eyes and a pledge in his heart. Never before did he ever feel so passionate. Never before did he feel so focused, except perhaps as a child in his archery lessons. He knew with every fiber of his being that he was going to track down Caen’s father and kill him. He knew that this was a crime against his very essence; he knew to preserve the lives of the eldar, not destroy them. But he couldn’t let this go on any longer. He couldn’t let Caen’s father live any longer for he had committed such terrible crimes against his own kin, his own people.

These passionate thoughts caused such distraction that Legolas walked straight into Lord Elrond, which nearly knocked Legolas to the ground. Elrond, the epitome of poise and control, was barely swayed.

“Thrandulion,” Elrond acknowledged with a nod, offering his forearm for Legolas to grip.

“Lord Elrond,” Legolas replied, taking Elrond’s forearm and grimacing. He did not want to hang around and observe courtly pleasures. He wanted action.

“You are disturbed,” Elrond observed.

“Not so much disturbed as…” Legolas searched for a word, “resolute.”

“Resolute to do what, may I ask?” Elrond peered deeply into Legolas’ eyes and Legolas suddenly felt as if he were being examined under a magnifying glass. He paused, wondering if it were a good idea to reveal his intent. “I will know if you lie to me,” Elrond spoke then, as if he was reading Legolas’ mind.

“Very well, my lord. I intend to seek out Caen’s father and kill him.”

“Indeed,” was all Lord Elrond replied, as if it was the obvious choice, and then after a moment he remarked, “That is quite the intention.”

“Yes, sir.”

“How do you intend to fulfill such a desire?”

“I do not know, sir,” Legolas answered after a slight pause, still looking at Elrond intently.

“Very well,” Elrond replied. When he said no more, Legolas inclined his head and began to leave, but Elrond grabbed his arm as he passed and held him there. “And when, may I ask, do you intend to fulfill this desire to kill Morthen?”

“Tonight, sir,” Legolas said without hesitation. “Now.”

“Very well,” Elrond repeated. “Then leave now. I will not inform Caen of your intent.”

“Thank you,” Legolas said, relieved. He had not wished to express his thoughts aloud that he thought that Caen would be better off not knowing his intentions for this night, because Legolas knew that she would try to stand in his way. She would be angry with him when she found out, he knew that for a fact, but she would at least be safe. With that comforting though, he walked to his room to gather what he needed. Soon after that, he walked out into the night.

--

Caen waited a full five minutes after Legolas left before she sprang into action. She quickly changed into sensible clothing and grabbed her sword and sheath, attaching it to her side before she stole out the window as she had done many times before in her life. This time, however, it was not to report to her father… it was to kill him. Her father would die tonight, and she intended to see it through.

She was not weak. Like so many times before, she could hear Morthen’s taunting laughter even now inside her head. She was not weak.

Silently she stole through the terrain. The world was silent now and her heart raced… would Morthen be there? Or would she have to track him down?

It did not take her long to arrive at the deserted camp she had visited so often before. She could sense that the shroud of black magic that had concealed it for so long were dropped and that there had been an organized mass exodus of the place very recently. Swords, spears, and other orcish weaponry littered the ground around her and not a soul lingered in the camp.

Well, one soul did. The soul was blackened with greed, murder, and foul magic.

“So you have come at last,” he said softly to her.

“You knew I would,” Caen spat at Morthen.

“Yes, I knew you would.” Morthen emerged from the shadows into the moonlight. The moon cast its light around him and for a second, Caen could have sworn that he existed as a shadow-creature, not of flesh and blood at all. “I knew that you would come crawling back to me… Weak. You are as weak as you have been your entire life. Suddenly you fall in love. In love,” Morthen spat at her, sarcasm dripping from his every syllable, “and what now? Have you come to kill me?” He threw back his head and laughed, a sound that chilled Caen’s blood. “I will never die.”

“You will die tonight, Morthen,” Caen said levelly. “And I will see to that.”

Morthen, still smiling, drew his sword and Caen gripped her sword with resolution. For a moment in time theonly sounds to be heard were the exhaled breaths of the two elves, and suddenly, Morthen attacked. He swung his sword at Caen in an overhead attack. Caen parried the blow and jumped aside. The attacks came repeatedly from Morthen and Caen defended herself surely. Caen spun out and grabbed at an abandoned spear on the ground and whirled around bearing both her sword and the spear in each hand. She advanced on Morthen, turning the tables on him, swinging the sword and lunging with the spear. Morthen, stepping back, lunged with both hands on the hilt of his sword at the spear Caen carried. With a mighty swing, Morthen splintered the spear and Caen was forced to drop the weapon. Caen, remaining unfazed, dropped the splintered piece of wood and continued her forward advance. She swung her sword with precision and, seizing a golden opportunity as Morthen feinted right, was able to swing and slice at Morthen’s arm. Morthen jumped back and ignored his blooded arm.

“Have you won, then, elfling? You stand there victorious, as you draw the first blood, I can see the triumph in your eyes.” Morthen and Caen started to circle each other, Morthen’s arm dripping blood on to the ground. “First blood means nothing. It is the last blood that matters in this fight,” Morthen whispered.

Morthen charged, sword drawn back for a fatal blow. Caen swung her sword up and was able to block the renewed attack. Morthen brought on an onslaught of assaults which Caen successfully was able to ward off until a moment when she misjudged the direction of an attack and Morthen was able to swing at her gut and slashed her stomach. After this, Caen tried to keep up a steady defense, but the wound hindered her too much and she was struck several more times. As the fight progressed, she realized she was merely defending herself, rather than attacking, and try as she might, she could not turn the tables on Morthen with this hindering wound. Morthen saw this and seized his golden opportunity, running forward and tackling her to the ground, knife at her throat. As she fell, Caen’s head struck a rock, and she fought consciousness as she struggled against Morthen’s grip.

“You are weak,” Morthen repeated, “and you shall die now.” Caen felt Morthen’s blade begin to cut into her throat when she heard the whizzing of an arrow go past her and bury itself in the ground next to her.

Morthen withdrew the knife from her throat and the pressure of his body on hers disappeared. Caen fought the blackness as she saw a beautiful blonde elf step away from the forest around them.

“Ahh, the Princeling has arrived too,” Morthen sounded amused. “Have you come to murder me too?”

“You shall die tonight,” Legolas spat at him.

“Everyone says that to me, yet no one has pulled through. No, Princeling. It is you who will die tonight, and as this useless elf has failed in her mission to kill you, I will be able to see it through.”

Caen groaned and tried to stand and fight again, but the world swam before her.

The Land Prince fought bravely to rescue the Sea Princess. He dropped his bow and quiver of arrows and withdrew two knives from their places on his back. He approached the evil man and the fight began.

Morthen had taken Caen’s sword from her hand and now gripped both swords in each hand. Legolas made the first attack, swinging his swords with expert precision at Morthen. Morthen parried each blow.

The Land Prince kept steady, fighting with years of experience and training at his back. He fought mightily and with a well placed swing, he ridded the evil man of one of his weapons. The evil man recovered without missing a beat.

Morthen, now with only Caen’s sword, gripped it with both hands and swung it overhead and brought it slashing down on Legolas’ head, an attack which Legolas blocked with crossed swords.

The Land Prince soon began to have the upper hand, wounding the evil man and nearly striking a death blow many times. But every time, the evil man was able to wriggle away. The fighting lasted many hours, and soon the dawn came.

“Anor rises, Princeling. The new day has begun, and yet I still live,” Morthen taunted. No sooner than the words had escaped his mouth, Legolas saw his opportunity to victory.

The Land Prince, in a deliberate movement, drew a knife back and plunged it into the evil man’s gut. The evil man, realizing he drew his last breath, stumbled away and fell to the ground.

“Anor rises now, and so you die now,” Legolas said coolly. Legolas withdrew his knife from Morthen’s stomach and readied his last attack.

Morthen did not fight the end. He looked not on Legolas, but directly at Caen, who still struggled with consciousness. “I will live on, daughter of mine. Through you.”

Before he had a chance to say anything else, Legolas plunged his knife through the elf’s heart. His eyes unfocused and finally, Morthen died.

Caen could no longer remain awake, and resigned herself to slip into darkness at last. Legolas swept the unconscious elf into his arms and carried her back to Rivendell for the second time. Upon their arrival at the Dell, Elrond and several guards stood in the main hall.

“He is dead,” Legolas said to Elrond.

“So you have succeeded,” Elrond noted. Legolas nodded curtly, a great weariness in his soul.

“My Lord?” one of the guards queried.

“Take her to her cell,” Elrond ordered.

“Lord Elrond?” Legolas sounded horrified as Caen was taken from his arms. “You will arrest her like a common criminal?”

“It is what must be done, Legolas. It is not what I wish, but it must be done. I will tend to her wounds and her trial will be today at the sun’s zenith.”

Legolas stood in the entrance hall before following Elrond into the prison. He would not leave her alone.


Chapter 17 - The Bells of Rivendell

Chapter 17 : The Bells of Rivendell

The bells of Rivendell tolled for two reasons: to signify death and to signify exile. These were bells that were seldom heard and when stricken, they were not welcome. It was not that there were few reasons to toll bells. Bells were rung frequently in other areas of Middle Earth to represent births and marriages. But, as ever in Rivendell, things were run a little differently.

Caen desperately did not want to hear those bells.

The image of her father, dead, finally dead, was imprinted on her mind. It was liberation for her, her childhood dream of being saved by her prince had never really faded, and yet it was a condemnation. His lasts words to her echoed through the caverns of her memory: "I will live on, daughter of mine. Through you."

As Caen sat on the cold floor, she wanted to be angry at Legolas… she wanted to curse him for his foolishness and his pride. But even as she wished that he had not gone, how could she curse the elf who had set her free? What fault was his when she was the one who was foolish, in the end?

It was bitter and ironic to think that she was rid of the elf who had enslaved her for centuries… and even more ironic to think that his life was ended, his very essence snuffed out. He was the one who had taught her to kill… and yet he was the one who was dead.

Caen shut her eyes and closed her mouth and breathed deeply through her nose. Today should not be the day to dwell on her father. However, she would have to do exactly that. Today was the day of her trial. Today would be the day that decided what would happen to her life. Exile? Death? The bells would only tell.

Legolas was not with her. He was pleading with Elrond in the corridor outside on her behalf. Pleading to let her go, to release her from this cell and wipe her record clean. Caen could hear their voices through the stony walls.

"Lord Elrond, I beg of you. She was not accountable-"

"In the beginning she was not. However, there came a point in time where she voluntarily performed such actions, and it is that elf who stands today before the jury."

"You speak of her as if she is two beings; she is one elf! And she does not deserve…"

"I understand. But her trial still stands today. Morthen is dead but that does not nullify her deeds."

There was a long and heavy pause. "She was once your daughter, Lord Elrond. I beg of you," Legolas whispered. "I will do anything for her."

"It will do nothing. I am sorry."

Legolas did not return to her after their conversation had broken.

Caen knew very well how horrifying the deeds of elves could be, for she had lived and breathed that horror for so long. Would she have a chance to even begin to purge herself of her misdeeds?

There was movement outside of the chamber, and Caen knew that the time was now to face the truth: She would not live past today. With some difficulty, for her new wounds were hindering her, she stood, and faced the two elves that were entering the cell. She faced them, resolute, holding her head high even though she felt that she no longer deserved any sort of status.

Somewhere in her soul, her intuition told her that her presence in the world would fade, and fade quickly, like a snuffed candle. She was not content with this; far from it, but not for a reason she could apply to selfish desire or self-preservation… but instead to the fact that after today, she could not be with Legolas.

Oh, Legolas.

The door opened and two guards entered, warily observing her. Despite her weakness, they still remained cautious of an elf who had committed such terrifying deeds. She thought she understood: She had been terrible for so long. But she let them bind her hands together and walked silently through the halls that she had lived in for almost her entire life. The world was silent. There was no one in the halls.

The trial was to be held in the courtyard. A public trial, she knew, as were all trials in Rivendell. As she entered the courtyard and was escorted to an empty area at the front, some people stared with open contempt, and very few with compassion in their eyes. Atop the dais at the front of the crowd stood Elrond and four other Rivendell lords. The guards left her in front of the dais and left.

Alone now, she sank to her knees, as a sign of remorse. She bent her head to the ground, and when Elrond spoke, she did not raise her head, but bent lower to the ground. ‘I don’t want to die…’

“Caen Mortheniell, you are brought to trial under the accusation of aiding the Dark and for the murder of the following elves:” Here he listed some twenty names. With every name, Caen cringed and regretted every fall of her sword or drop of poison she had ever administered. “Do you deny these crimes?”

“No, my Lord.” A gasp rose from the crowd surrounding her.

“Caen, raise your eyes and offer your case,” Elrond said in his booming voice. Caen knew there was sympathy in the tone, but few others could hear it.

Caen looked up at Elrond at last, and his stern face revealed no emotion. As she looked upon him she recalled the years of welcome and trust that Elrond had given her. This made Caen’s stomach clench even tighter. Without standing, she told her tale, and with every misdeed she revealed, she could feel the hatred of the crowd behind her swell and boil. She heard the wails of widows of elves she had killed, and that nearly drove her to tears. She deserved it, she knew. When she finished her account, she paused for a moment, and then quietly added, “But my lords, hear me out. I regret everything that I have ever done, though I do not think a thousand apologies would do any justice to my remorse. I now face my fate with a clear conscience, having confessed to my wrongs. I deserve everything given to me.”

A silence greeted her final words unlike any silence before. Everyone held their breath, waiting for the Lords to deliver their judgment.

From the deep silence, a voice rose, loud and clear. “I will bear her punishment.”

Caen whirled around and saw Legolas emerging from the crowd. Her heart fluttered and she smiled for a moment, but the smile fell soon after when she realized what he had said. There was an outraged cry from the onlookers and Caen pled with her eyes for him to step back and disappear.

“I will bear whatever sentence you deliver to her,” Legolas repeated straight to Elrond’s face.

“You will? Even if the punishment is death?” Elrond raised his eyebrows.

“Yes. Even if the punishment is death.” Legolas sank to his knees beside Caen, who stared at him, bewildered.

“Legolas, you cannot-” she whispered heatedly.

“Marry me.”

“What?”

“Bind yourself to me and be my wife.” Legolas stared at her with his intense blue eyes. She knew that he meant this, and he would not surrender easily.

“Legolas, this is hardly the place.”

“You would bind yourself to an elf surely sentenced to death…” This came from Elrond. It was more of a statement than a question.

“I would, my Lord. Without hesitation,” Legolas answered in a strong voice. “I love her, and cannot live without her.”

There followed yet another silence that seemed to go on endlessly. The lords on the dais stared at the pair of elves on their knees, their eyes not entirely devoid of emotion.

“There will be a short interlude, while we come to a decision.” With this statement, Elrond and the Lords stood and went into the palace, presumably to Elrond’s study. The crowd released its silence in a whoosh of whispers and speculations.

Caen felt a hand in hers and knew that Legolas was waiting for her answer. She glanced up at him, on his knees beside her.

“I love you, Legolas, but I cannot let you do this,” she said quietly.

“I know, but I cannot bear being without you.” He squeezed her hand. “So I will either live with you, or die with you.” He took her hand and kissed her knuckles lovingly. Caen shivered, wishing that this could be another way; that they could perhaps love and live.

They knelt there, fingers entwined in an apprehensive silence until Elrond and the others emerged at last.

“We have at last come to a decision,” Elrond said, and once again the silence reigned over the courtyard. “There was much dissention among us, and at last we agree:

“First, to Lord Legolas’, you have a duty to the Fellowship that is of great importance, and so we reject your plea to bear the punishment in Caen’s stead.”

Caen bowed her head, and a tear fell from her eyes to the ground, knowing what would come at last.

“However, we cannot ignore the love that exists between you. To remove one of you from this earth would surely remove the other, and that is not the intention that we have as a jury.

“And so, Caen Mortheniell, you are hereafter exiled from Middle Earth to forever exist in the Undying lands, never to return.”

And the bells of Rivendell tolled.

The End.


Chapter 18 - Epilogue: At Last

Epilogue: At Last

Caen knelt in her garden, digging her hands into the earth for which she was so named. She thrived on the feeling of the soil between her fingers and as every year she gathered the fruits of her labor, she proudly prepared for the next year; a sort of ritual of keeping an eye on the future as well as the present. She picked up the spade at her side, dug it into the soil, and upon the opening of the earth she tenderly placed in the seeds she had collected from last year’s harvest. This annual ritual of creating had come from a deep regret of what she had destroyed; a repayment to Arda for every offense to its nature. Whispering a prayer to the Valar as she covered the seeds, she prayed for a good harvest to come.

Every year, she tended the garden with love and gladly fed the children who came around with apples and tomatoes she had picked that morning. But today on this cool fall afternoon, Caen was restless. She turned the soil and planted seeds for next spring’s crop, feeling no peace within her. A breeze moved the tree in which her talan was situated and the leaves whispered their ‘Ssh…’ to her, perhaps reminding her restless soul to relax. She closed her eyes and let the wind rush her and embrace her. She felt suddenly much better. She finished her work and stood, wiping her soiled hands on her skirts. She climbed up the rope ladder to her talan, thinking, perhaps, to fix herself a midday meal, but as soon as she stepped foot into her kitchen, she turned right around and climbed back down the ladder. She suddenly was not hungry. The peace within her that had presented itself had left as quickly as it had come.

After endless hours at sea, his eyes spot the first sign of land. His heart leaps at the sight, and he knows his time is drawing closer and closer.

She walked to the edge of the wood, thinking perhaps to visit Elladan or Elrohir and their families, but standing at the foot of their neighboring talans, she changed her mind yet again. She turned to face the direction of Elrond’s dwelling, but did not even attempt to fool herself: she would not want to go there, either.

Too anxious to remain aboard any longer, he vaults the edge of the boat and wades to shore. There are so many familiar faces ashore; all waiting to talk to him… he passes them by without a word.

She turned around and went back into the forest and, bypassing her own talan, decided to go to the cliff side. The cliff side faced East and was a frequented spot of lovers. Caen wistfully watched a pair of lovers disappear into the forest, feeling the pang of Legolas’ long absence from her life. There were times, such as now, when she felt the pain more than others, but it had long dulled into an almost ignorable pain- a dull ache which haunted her every day. She had a few happy memories of her love to cling onto in these times of painful solitude.

He passes the archery grounds and spots the twin sons of Elrond, locked in a competition as ever they had since they were young. He passes them by, but he feels a pair of eyes on him. He looks behind him to see none other than Elrond himself standing in the doorway of the hall.

She remembered their last few days together. Elrond and his council had allowed her three days in Imladris to pack and settle her affairs. Without ever consciously deciding to do so, she had spent most of her time with Legolas. She had refused his proposal of marriage, saying, “Legolas, let me start a new life. Then you can have me.”

“But I want you now,” Legolas had whined. He had then nuzzled into her neck in a very Legolas-like way, and Caen had almost caved then. She had reminded herself that she had no idea when she would see him next to snap back into reality.

“Not now, Prince,” Caen had said, placing her finger on his lips with a bittersweet smile, “but soon enough.”

Legolas had left on his quest the day after she left west. They had spent every hour with each other, making memories to last them the centuries they would be apart.

“I will come as soon as possible,” Legolas had said when she was to start her journey west with many other Rivendell elves. “As soon as the war is over,” he had promised.

“No, Legolas. Do what you have to do. Only when you can stand it no longer, come and sweep me off my feet,” she had given him a wink and a half-hearted smile, trying to lighten his mood.

“I can barely stand it now,” Legolas had whispered back to her, bringing her in for one long, lasting kiss. Caen had melted against him and tried to memorize every plane of his body.

“I love you,” Legolas had said when he dragged his face away from hers.

“I love you,” Caen had replied. And with that, she had mounted her horse and left with one final glance back at her love.

Elrond says nothing to him. Slowly, intentionally, Elrond nods deeply. After an intense moment, a spell seems to release. He turns away from the Lord and continues, his pace increasing. Anxiety permeates his soul. It has been far too long!

How many times since that day had she replayed those last moments in her head?

He breaks into the open air again, and stops suddenly. His prize, his reason for being, was so close, he wanted to shout.

How many times did she wish that she had agreed with him and said, ‘Yes, do come as soon as possible.’

“I’m driving myself crazy here, alone,” she muttered darkly to herself. And just as she expected, nobody answered her.

Slowly, mesmerized, he walks forward, prepared to at last become whole again.

She sighed once more, stood up, and walked right into an elf.

“Sorry,” she muttered to her feet as she overbalanced. The elf reached out to steady her with a strong grip, and she moved to pass him. She could not deal with anyone today… She just wanted to return to her lonely home and her garden.

The elf let her pass without a word. He let her walk twenty paces and then yelled after her, “Will you marry me now?”

Caen whirled around and stared, dumbfounded. “L-Legolas?”

“Your very own Prince to rescue you from your solitude.”

“By the light, you’re here!” she said, running back and launching into his embrace kissing his lips and his face and holding him tight. He twirled her around and set her down and kissed the wind out of her.

“Oh, Legolas,” she said, leaning into his embrace and never wanting to detangle herself from his embrace and his woodland smell, and the sound of his heartbeat against her ear.

“I’ve missed you,” he said with a wide, cheeky grin.

“I haven’t,” Caen said, with an even larger one.

“I can tell.” Legolas kissed her again, and she melted once more against him. “I think you’re lying to me again, though.”

“Me? Lie? Never,” Caen said, wearing the biggest smile she had ever worn.

“Have you forgotten the question again then?”

“What question, again?”

“Now will you marry me?”

“Only if you promise to never let me go,”

“Of course, I won’t.”

“Then yes. Take me away and make me your wife.”
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