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

Title: Hîr Nín (#724)
Author: Concetta
Chapters: 11

Archive: Tolkien
Category: Lord of the Rings
Description: When Legolas is on his way home to Mirkwood, after the War of the Ring, he thinks back to the time when he first set out to Rivendell, accompained by an unusually red-haired she-elf, who wasn't particularly warm to him . . . at first.
Published: 22 Mar 2004
Updated: 22 Mar 2004
Warnings: Attempted stuff . . .
Type: Romance
Characters: Legolas;OC


Chapter 1 - Returning to Remember Departing

Author's Note: In the scene (in the movie) when Legolas first arrives at Rivendell and looks around, you can see a female elf behind him with red hair. That's this female character. Yes, and I did take her name, Nimue, from Arthurian legends. I just thought the name was so pretty and it could fit in Tolkien's world so I thought, what the heck! For those of you who have never heard this name spoken before it's pronounced "Nim-oo-way")



Legolas gazed the trees of Mirkwood. The leaves were beginning to grow green again and the bark was turning back into it's rich brown warm tones, now that Sauron was finally defeated. The forest was recovering. Evil was ebbing away, now that it's master was gone. It was good to be home!

As his horse trotted through the forest, Legolas' memory strayed back to the day he left Mirkwood.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Represent us well, my son," King Thranduil said, putting a large hand on his son's broad shoulder.

"I will, father."

"I'm sending a few elves to go with you to be your companions." He gestured to a few elves standing by. "Astalder, Elear, and Nimue."

At the sound of their names, the elves stepped forward. Two male elves and one female.

The female was Nimue. She had dark red-gold hair. Legolas had only run into her once or twice, but had never spoken to her. It was rumored that her father had been an elandili, a half-elf, who had married a full-blooded elf.

Her red hair had always caught the curious attention of many elves, including Legolas'. Maybe on this trip to Imladris (Rivendell) he might get a chance to talk to her.

The morning sun shone brightly on the day of their departure. Legolas headed toward the stables to ready check on his horse, *Ohtar.

The horse greeted him with a happy whinny.

"Suilad, mellon nin!" (Greetings, my friend) Legolas said smiling as he stroked the side of the horse's powerful white neck.

Legolas then heard the of hay behind him. He whirled around to behold Nimue. She had come to give her horse one last brushing before they set off. She was in the middle of doing so when Legolas spoke to her.

"Suilad, Nimue."

"Suilad, my lord prince," said Nimue, only glancing up at him for a second before returning to her work.

"You do not have to address me so formally, Nimue, you may call me Legolas."

"I had rather not," was her short reply.

"Why?"

"Because, I do not like to be familiar with royalty that I hardly know."

Legolas felt it best not to argue. "Very well," he said. Legolas studied Nimue's face as she brushed her horse. It was stern, yet fair. Her eyebrows were furrowed as if she were trying to force further concentration on her task than necessary.

"Namarie," (Goodbye) Legolas said as he left the stables.

As soon as Legolas had departed over the threshold of the stables, Nimue had stopped her work to watch his


Chapter 2 - Enchanted River

Enchanted River


She hadn't meant to be so curt, she just wasn't sure what to say to the Prince of Mirkwood, his handsome face and form de-railed her train of thought. She didn't want to be familiar with him, because she was strictly brought up and her parents taught her to never be familiar with royalty, unless they were related, or you knew them very well. Legolas did not qualify in those subjects.


Nimue had just saddled her horse when she noticed Astalder and Elear were not with them.

"Astalder and Elear will not be coming," Legolas said, noticing her confusion. "My father received a request from Rivendell to send out some of our best scouts to check the surrounding areas. Astalder and Elear were chosen, being two of our best. Father thought that perhaps three companions were too much, and that it would be faster and safer if there were only two.

"For there is a darkness creeping upon this land and the surrounding lands once more. I can feel it."

Nimue looked straight at him; her breath caught in her throat when she tried to say that she did too. She felt it closing in on the already darkened Mirkwood.

She had been hoping, as did Legolas, that with the driving out of the Necromancer, these woods would go back to the way they were:

Lush and green. The trees: strong and firm and the bark: a rich healthy brown. Now they were dark and twisted, and weak. The leaves were withered, even though that was expected in autumn, it did not look natural. The trees were sickly. Sick with darkness.

Nimue felt the tears burn in her eyes. She wasn't aware of Legolas' eyes as she reached out and gently touched the bark of a nearby whithered tree.

She felt a fire sear up her arm and she was panged with sadness and a weariness, all of which were coming from the tree.

"Manen anann?" (How long?) She asked the air.

"You feel it too."

Nimue nodded quietly.

"Are you ready?" Legolas queried.

"Yes. I am."

"Then, let us be off."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Nimue crouched by the Enchanted River and rested a moment. They were taking the elf-path which cut across the river.

As she let the cool water run through her fingers, she stared at her reflection.

She wasn't your usual beautiful elf. She was pretty, I'll grant you, though not as pretty as some of the other female elves of Mirkwood, who followed the prince around all day like puppies.


Honestly, a bunch of very bright, grown elven women struck dumb by the prince.

Legolas, on the other hand, never seemed to take much notice of them, unless they came directly up to him.

Nimue remembered one event in particular . . .

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Nimue was in one of the courtyard gardens of the palace.

She was contentedly sitting on a bench, reading a book, when she heard the giddy laughter of about five elven maidens, from what her ears told her.

Nimue looked up to see Prince Legolas step into the courtyard, the giggling maidens crowding around him. As Nimue had watched the small parade she had wondered why the other maids made such a fuss over him.

Legolas sat down on the bench across from Nimue. He wore a tolerant and polite smile.

"Please, hir nin," said one maiden, "tell us again how you escaped from the giant spider's web?" (my lord)

Nimue rolled her eyes and stole a glance at Legolas from over the top of her book, which she had hid her face behind once the party made their presence known. Legolas was smiling cordially at the elven ladies, though Nimue could have sworn that she detected a slight hint of annoyance in his eyes.

"Again, my ladies?"

"Oh, yes please! You were so brave!"

Nimue groaned.

Immediately the group's chattering stopped.

Nimue slowly lowered her book and found that the entire party was staring at her. The maidens' beautiful faces were clouded in displeasure.

Legolas, on the other hand, was gazing at her with his head cocked to one side; a curious smile gracing his handsome features.

Nimue was startled by the sudden upwelling of new emotions inside her, while under his gaze.

She quickly rose to her feet, and cleared her throat. Then, with a quick curtsey, Nimue walked, fast-paced, out of the courtyard.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Nimue was startled out of her reflection by the sound of many thin legs moving over the leaves. She looked up at Legolas. He heard it too.

"A Giant Spider?" she whispered.

Legolas slowly nodded his head and quietly drew out an arrow from his quiver and strung it in his bow. He held his weapon in a down position against his knees, with the arrow still in place and ready to be released when the bow was raised.

Nimue gingerly drew out her sword. Her father had been the Swordmaster of Mirkwood and he had taught her well in the arts of it.

When she had come of age her father gave her the sword she carried now. She named it Rhiw, the elvish word for Winter, for the metal always, for some unknown reason, gleamed with an unnatural glow during that season. Though, her father speculated that it was because it was made during the Winter season and that a sword always shines it's brightest in the season it was made, to let everyone know it's birth-time.

Her sword now glowed, for it was that time of year.


She whipped her blade about through the air as she was taught to do before she took her ready stance. She held the blade straight up, at arms length. The edges were facing out, ready to be brought down onto whatever enemy she would face.


Chapter 3 - Giant Spiders

Giant Spiders


Nimue stood in her ready stance.

Legolas' bow string was tense as he waited to release the arrow. His eyes quickly flicked about the surrounding area.

Nimue, as she stood still and tuned her ears to the sounds around her, she had the distinct feeling of being watched by something overhead.

Slowly, she looked up just in time to see a spider bearing down upon her.

Nimue quickly jumped out of the way. Immedietly she heard the sharp twang of Legolas' bowstring.

The spider shrieked in pain and turned it's furious and hungry eyes on Legolas.

With one gigantic leg it swiped at him trying to knock him down. Legolas lightly moved aside with each swipe. At the same time, he kept shooting arrows at the overgrown insect, with motions as quick as lightning.

"Anirach i tulu nin?" Nimue called to Legolas. (do you need my help?)

"No!" He answered. In fighting, Legolas had never needed any help and even if he did he would be too proud to admit it.

Nimue was about to come up behind the spider Legolas was shooting and strike it with Rhiw, when she felt a tight and sticky substance whirl around her body.

Another spider had come down from the trees and wrapped her in it's webbing material.

Nimue struggled as hard as she could against the webbing that encased her, but her arms were pinned down by it. She felt herself being dragged backwards, as if she were a fish being slowly reeled in. Nimue dug her heels hard into the ground, but to no avail, the spider's pull was too strong.

Soon she was turned around to face the huge spider hovering over her, it's sharp teeth snapping, ready to bite.

All of a sudden, an arrow sang through the air and struck the spider in it's open mouth. It let go of Nimue and went, shrieking, away.

Legolas jumped up onto the spider he was fighting's back and, running over it, rushed over to Nimue. He quickly took out one of his long white knives and tried to carefully slice through the strands. He didn't directly cut it open in one swift motion, for fear of injuring Nimue in the process. For webbing was thin but strong.

"U-'osto!" Legolas said as he slowly slid the tip down and through the spider's rope, "ortheritham sain." (Fear not!. . we will defeat them)

"U-'osto"? Nimue was not afraid!

"Tiro!" She suddenly shouted, "behind you!" (Look! . .)

Legolas whirled around and thrust his knife into the underbelly of the spider that had come up behind him. The spider shrieked and lunged at him, forcing Legolas to duck and back away.

As Legolas continued to fight once more, Nimue tried to break herself free, but only succeeded in losing her balance and falling down.

Legolas evaded the spider for a moment and rushed over to Nimue and helped her up.

As soon as he got her to her feet, Legolas turned around and began to fight again.

Nimue then decided to do something stupid and drastic. She sidled up behind the spider attacking Legolas and kicked one of it's legs of eight.

"What are you doing?" The prince cried. Nimue ignored him and stood still. The spider turned to face her and raised one of it's sharp appendages.

"Ai!" Legolas cried out in alarm. "Noro!" (Run!)

Legolas strung his bow and aimed at the spider.

"Daro!" Nimue shouted. (Stop!)

He heeded Nimue's word and did not release the arrow. Though he looked at her with a very puzzled expression.

The spider's leg came down swiftly toward Nimue.

Legolas cried out and let his arrow fly. At the same time, Nimue jumped back a bit as the leg came down. As a result, when the sharp limb struck her, it only caught the webbing and ripped it open.

"Hannaid!" Nimue exclaimed with a grin. She ran to put some space between her and the spider, then she struggled to pull off the rest of the sticky strands that were still clinging to her. (Thank-you)

Legolas ran over and tried to help her get some of the webbing off, temporarily forgetting about the spider he had been previously engaged with.

"Kela!" Nimue shouted at him. Legolas didn't seem to hear her. (Go away!)

Although the spider had been shot many times, it still hadn't reached a point of vulnerable weakness.

"Look out!" Nimue shouted, but her warning came too late. Legolas had been so preoccupied in releasing her from the remains of the spider's thread, that he had failed to mark the sound of the monster creeping up on him.

The spider took a good swipe at Legolas just as he was turning around. The prince was hurled against a tree and knocked senseless.

Nimue stepped on the webbing that was trailing from her sword and jerked her weapon free of it.

She crouched down and swung her sword into four of the insect's legs, cutting them off.

Nimue, then heard the twang of a bow. An arrow sailed into the creature's head. Legolas had already revived himself and delivered the final blow.

The spider finally gave a shudder and, collapsing, it died.


Exhausted, Nimue let her sword, that had been raised to strike again, drop. She had the tip rest in the earth.

"Well," Legolas said gingerly fingering the bruise on his forehead, "that was not too bad of a battle."

Nimue glared at the Prince of Mirkwood.

"Mibo orch!" Nimue was so mad, she let herself speak plainly, forgetting his rank. (Go kiss an orc).

"Man?" Legolas asked, startled. (What?)

"Lasto beth nin: bado mibo orch!" (Listen to my voice: go kiss an orc!)

"What is the matter with you?" He asked looking a trifle upset.

"I could have easily taken care of myself!" Nimue yelled. "You did not need to cut me free, then stand there and help me get the webbing off! You still had a spider behind you!"

"A prince looks out for his people," Legolas said quietly, yet firmly and with a trace of anger. A fire sparked in his eyes.

Nimue fell quiet. She felt her cheeks begin to redden. She could not believe she had just spoken such audacious words. If her parents were there, they would have disowned her.

Nimue lowered her eyes to the ground.

"Edaved nin," she said. (forgive me)*

"I do."

Nimue dared to look up at Legolas and was relieved to see that his frown had been replaced by a good natured grin.

"Now," he said, "let us continue. I want to get father's message to Imladris as soon as possible."

Review please!!!!

*(A/N: It is supposed to mean "forgive me." I could not find the Sindarin (noble elvish dialect) phrase for that, so I put two Sindarin words together: "forgive" and "me" so I hope it's correct. But, I'm not sure so don't go using it, you will be flamed by purists! :)


Chapter 4 - Night Watch

Night Watch

The elves set camp at dusk. Legolas pulled out a cake of lembas and began to lightly nibble on it.

"Why are we going to Imladris, Hir nin?" Nimue asked while unrolling her sleeping pallet.(My lord)

"You have not heard?"

"Well, I did hear something, I just was not sure if it were true."

"About Smegol escaping?"

"Yes."

"It is true. That is the message I am sent to give to Lord Elrond."

Nimue sat silently and shivered slightly. They built no fire, for fear of attracting unwanted company.

Legolas was not cold at all. Nimue was only, because of the bit of mortal blood in her, making Nimue susceptible to such uncomfortable sensations. Fortunately, though, she could not fall seriously ill from the cold nor the heat.

Legolas was standing peering through the mass of trees, trying to get a good glimpse of the road ahead. At the same time, he was listening for any slight stir of a leaf or snap of a twig.

Mirkwood was deathly still.

Suddenly, in the silence, Legolas' ears picked up a light tapping sound. He turned to Nimue. Her teeth were chattering a little bit. Legolas' brows furrowed.

"Are you cold, Nimue?" Legolas asked with concern.

"N-no," Nimue lied, while mentally cursing her chattering teeth.

Legolas smiled and, giving one last glance into the shadows, walked over to Nimue and sat beside her.

But, once Legolas sat down, Nimue hastily stood up.

"Uh . . I guess it's my turn for watch then, is it?"

Before Legolas had a chance to reply, Nimue strode to the edge of their camp and looked out at the trees.

Legolas gazed curiously at her. He could not figure her out.

He remembered that when he first saw her:


She had been in the palace courtyard reading a red leather-bound book. He hadn't noticed her there, at first, because all the maidens surrounding him made it practically impossible to see anything. It was a wonder that he even knew where he was.

Nimue had first attracted his attention when she groaned, obviously in reaction to one of the elf-maidens flirtatious comments. When she had lowered the book from her face he was startled by the color of her hair. Legolas had never seen an elf with red hair before. Legolas was also intrigued by her from the mere fact that she was not part of the throng of elf-maidens that followed him around.

He had later asked one of the elven maidens the name of this red-haired elf, and she replied with a scowl: "Nimue."

The elf-maidens were not fond of Nimue, because she was different. She was either reading a book, or being un-ladylike, from their perspective, by practicing her swordsmanship.


As Legolas sat in his reverie, a sudden noise pierced both his ears and Nimue's.

It came from very far away, past the Misty Mountains, from the Edge of the Wild. It sounded like an unearthly screech from some kind of unearthly creature. Legolas jumped up. The sound clutched the elves' hearts in an icy grip.


The sound soon died away.

"What was that?" Nimue quietly asked, after a moment.

"I do not know," Legolas replied in an equally hushed voice.

"Well, whatever it is, fortunately it is quite far away."

"Yes," Legolas agreed, but continued to stare uneasily at the horizon.


Nimue stood watch for the first hour as the prince slept. She watched as Legolas chest steadily rose and fell under his clasped hands. His eyes were half closed, for elves did not fully close their eyes when they slept. Blending night and dream together.

Nimue suddenly realised that she had been staring at Legolas' sleeping form for quite some time. She chastised herself for getting distracted from her duties and forced her head to turn away.

Before she knew it her hour was up. Nimue stepped lightly over to Legolas and croached down by him. She spoke.

"Hir nin. Awake, hir nin."

Legolas' eyes slowly opened fully and became alert. He turned his head slightly and smiled warmly up at her.

Nimue's heart leapt into her throat. Why was he affecting her this way? She had never been in love and had always seen it as something silly and overly sentimental. She didn't understand it. Nimue was determined not to become like one of the elf-maidens who trail after Prince Legolas.

"It's your turn for the watch, hir nin."

Legolas sat up and lighty got to his feet.

"Le hannon." Legolas stretched his limbs briefly, then proceeded to walk to the edge of their camp. (I thank thee)

As Nimue stretched out on her pallet, Legolas glanced over his shoulder at her.
"Losto mae, Nimue." he said. (Sleep well, Nimue)


Even though, they had agreed an hour for each watch, Legolas was vigilant for two, purposely giving Nimue more hours of sleep. He wasn't tired anyway. He was excited. Excited that he was going Rivendell. He hadn't been there for seven years.
He always enjoyed the open splendor of the place. He also enjoyed, there, the company of Aragorn, son of Arathorn, when he was present, and Arwen Evenstar.

It had been fun to watch the growing attraction between Arwen and this brave man. Though, a trifle upsetting at the same time. For, he worried about the future of Arwen and Aragorn's relationship. If it developed into something serious, how would it be dealt with, Arwen being an elf and Aragorn being a human. What would happen to Arwen? Would she leave with the rest of the elves from the shores of Middle Earth? Or stay with Aragorn, living as a mortal.

Legolas glanced over his shoulder at Nimue. His glance became a stare as he watched her sleeping form. Her eyes were closed!

He rushed over to Nimue's side.

"Nimue, Nimue!"

Nimue's eyes flew open.

"Man?" (what?)

"Manen- your eyes were closed." (how-)

"Yes. I know." Nimue was a little annoyed at being awakened in the middle of a lovely dream involving cake. "I have mortal blood in me."

"So the rumors are true. Your father was a half-elven.."

"Yes, hir nin."

"Oh."

"Is that all, hir nin?"

"Yes."
Suddenly their ears picked up the far-away sound of figures crashing through trees and brush. They heard snatches of harsh voices. By their judgement the sounds were coming from ten miles away from the directions of the Mountains of Mirkwood.

"Ai! Yrch anglennar!" Nimue cried. (Ah! Orcs are coming!)

"We had better keep moving then," Legolas said, gathering his gear. "Judging by the sound, they are far and are not heading straight for us. There are only about maybe . . nine or ten of them."

Soon the travelers reached the Forest Gate. It consisted of an arch made out of two small birch trees. One on each side. The limbs of both trees were twisted together in intracate designs in order to form the arch.

Legolas and Nimue walked under it, gazing at it's beauty as they did.

Once out of Mirkwood they came upon the Great River of Wilderland. There they refilled their waterskins.

"We do not have the time to build any boats," Legolas said, "we will have to travel down along the Great River past the House of Beorn to the Old Ford. We'll cross there."

"But, after we cross at the Old Ford, does that not bring us dangerously close to Goblin-gate of Eyrie?"

"Yes. We will have to tread with extra care."

"I have heard of Beorn, but I have never seen him," Nimue remarked as they walked alongside the river.
"Neither have I."
"I heard that he can transform into a large bear."
"I have heard that too."


The two walked in silence for a while, until Legolas broke it with a question.

"Nimue?"

"Yes, hir nin?"

"Why do the other elf-maids not like you?"

"I think it was because I told them that they looked ridiculous, following you around every day."

Legolas laughed. He could just see the maidens' faces now. Scrunched up in anger. Completely unbecoming.

Nimue felt strangely thrilled by the fact that she had made him laugh. She frowned. "No, Nimue," she thought, "you must concentrate on your duties. Of course he's distracting you, he the Royal Prince Legolas, heir to the throne of Mirkwood, son of your King Thranduil, of course you're feeling a bit intimidated. Who wouldn't?

"But it's nothing serious. It's perfectly normal, the feeling will wear off, once you get used to being around him."

"Is something wrong, Nimue? . . . . Nimue?"

"Hm?- What?"

"I said, is something wrong?"

"No. Nothing. Nothing is wrong. Why?"

"You were frowning deeply, I thought you were maybe concerned about something, and perhaps I should know."

"I-"

"Yes?"

"I was wondering . . . . . how did you escape from that giant spider web."

Legolas sighed, then gave her a small, lopsided smile.

Nimue's heart skipped.

"When we set camp, I'll tell you."

Then Legolas gave her a side-glance. He knew that that was not what she had been thinking about.


Chapter 5 - Beorn

*Just to clarify to any confused readers, this is all a flashback by Legolas when he was returning home from the War of the Ring. That’s why he and Nimue are going to Rivendell, this is in the flashback, it’s when Legolas goes to deliver the message of Gollum escaping to Elrond.*
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Beorn

The two elves’ travel was silent as they rode along the Great River the next day.

Legolas began to sing softly to himself as they rode, for he enjoyed doing that sort of thing, especially when there was naught else to do.

Nimue unconciously tilted her head, concentrating on the song that gently poured from Legolas’ lips.


A! Elbereth Gilthoniel!
silivren penna miriel
O` menel aglar elenath
Gilthoniel, A! Elbereth!


“Beautiful . .” Nimue murmured.

“Le hannon,” Legolas said, nodding his head in acknowledgement of her compliment. (I thank thee).

Suddenly a crashing sound, of heavy footfalls in the brush nearby, of the small woods they were riding through, sounded.

“Yrch!” Legolas said with open contempt. (Orcs) “About five, I think.”

Nimue leapt off of her horse and unsheated her sword, swinging it before her, then holding it upright at a readied stance near her opposite shoulder.

Legolas drew out an arrow from his quiver and calmly, but quickly, notched it to the string. He pulled back the bowstring, feeling the tension mount as he pulled.

Nimue wondered as she stood there, sword in hand, how Legolas could stay so calm before a battle. Her heart would always flutter in anticipation and, she hated to admit, fear.


The orcs burst through the foliage and stopped short at the sight of the elves. Then, grinned evilly when they took a longer look Nimue. Legolas marked their notice of her and he glowered darkly at the foul creatures of Mordor.

Nimue heard the orcs murmer amongst themselves for a moment. She picked up the rising and the falling of the Black Speech and shivered.

Then the orcs turned to them.

“How much for the fire-headed one?” A particulary ugly orc said in the Western tongue to Legolas. He was jesting of course, but it was a crude jest. It boiled Legolas’ blood.

“Leave us,” Legolas commanded.

“We would rather fight, first. We’ll kill you and take the elf maid as our prize.”

“Gurth an glamhoth!” Legolas cried fiercely, letting loose an arrow which flew into the heart of the insulting orc. The rest of the orcs drew their crude weapons and charged. (Death to the din-hord *orcs*)

Nimue thrust her sword out as one of the orcs rushed toward her. She spun around, lobbing off her attacker’s head.

Legolas was felling many with his swift arrows.

Nimue swung her sword over her head bringing it down upon another orc. Out of curiosity, she glanced over at Legolas again. She marvelled at how fast he could shoot the arrows. She had never seen any elf let arrows fly so quickly.

Suddenly, she was knocked down to the ground by a filthy orc. Blast it! She let herself get distracted!

“Nimue!” She heard Legolas cry.

“I’m fine!” She yelled back. She lifted her knees and shoved the orc off with her feet. Nimue then jumped up and plunged her sword into it.

When she pulled out her Rhiw she grimaced at the dark blood staining it.

Nimue looked around when she realized that it was suddenly quiet.

Legolas was standing with an arrow in his hand, which he promptly put back in his quiver. All the orcs were dead.

Nimue wiped her blade on the grass and re-sheathed it.

Just then, another loud crashing came through the brush.

Legolas readied his bow, Nimue unsheathed her sword again.

Out from the trees emerged the biggest bear Nimue had ever seen. It stood up on it’s hind legs and roared.

Nimue heard the bowstring of Legolas stretch, ready to be loosened.

“Daro! Hon avo dhago!” Nimue commanded. (Stop! Don’t kill it!)

“Man?” Legolas asked, hesitantly lowering his bow. (What?)

“Tiro!” Nimue exclaimed pointing at the bear. (Look!)

Legolas’ eyes widened as the beast’s features began to shift and change into that of a large and burly man, with a black scraggly beard.

“It’s Beorn . .” Nimue whispered.

“Aye, it is!” said the great booming voice of Beorn. “Now, you will put that bow away young elf, I will not hurt you . . unless you shoot at me that is, then I would have to break your neck.

Legolas gave a slow, hesitant smile as he put his arrow away and shouldered his bow.

“Now, where may you be headed, my young elves?” Beorn asked.

“To Rivendell, the House of Lord Elrond,” Nimue answered. Legolas had not yet found his voice.

“Ah! Rivendell! Lovely place I hear!”

“Yes, it is,” Legolas said, his voice finally returning to him.

“I’m not usually a very hospitable sort on such short notice, but I will make an exception seeing how I rarely have First Borns gracing my hall with their presence.”

“We are honored, sir,” Legolas said, bowing.

“Come now! None of this “sir” nonsense. It’s Beorn, my friends, and don’t you be forgetting that! Now, what might your names be?”

“I am Prince Legolas Greenleaf, son of Thranduil, King of the Woodland Realm of Mirkwood.”

“`Tis an honor to make your acquaintance, my lord.” Beorn bowed.

“And I am Nimue Elenath, daughter of Eohric, Swordmaster of Mirkwood.”

“It is a great honor to meet you both! Now, come to my home. You shall eat and rest. I’ll take your horses for you.”

Beorn then proceeded to tuck both horses under his arms and carried them off like babes toward his house.

Nimue stood rooted to the ground for a moment, her jaw hanging open.

“Nimue,” Legolas’ voice broke the spell, “tolo.” (come)

“Yes, hir nin,” she replied forcing her legs to walk.

Soon the group cleared the foliage and came upon a large clearing.

There they beheld the Hall of Beorn, just as Bilbo beheld it so many, many, years ago.


PLEASE REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!! PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE!!!!!!!!!!!!! PRETTY, PRETTY, PRETTY, PLEASE WITH A CHERRY ON TOP!!!! I’LL BE YOUR BEST FRIEND! :) Just, kiddin’ I already have a best friend, BUT I’LL BE YOUR VERY GOOD FRIEND IF YOU DO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!



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Chapter 6 - Beorn's Hall

*Author’s Note: The description of Beorn’s Hall is taken from The Hobbit, chapter: Queer Lodgings, page 108. (You can see why my English teachers love me).*
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Beorn’s Hall
“They soon came to a wooden gate, high and broad, beyond which they could see gardens and a cluster of low wooden buildings, some thatched and made of unshaped logs: barns, stables, sheds, and a long low wooden house. Inside on the southward side of the great hedge were rows and rows of hives with bell-shaped tops made of straw. The noise of the giant bees flying to and fro and crawling in and out filled all the air . . . .

. . . Soon they reached a courtyard, three walls of which were formed by the wooden house and its two long wings.”

Nimue and Legolas were enchanted and delighted to see other horses come trotting up to them, nudging their palms. Legolas laughed. They were looking for carrots or sugar cubes or other such delights.

Legolas opened his palms and held out his arms, gesturing to the horses that he had nothing. One horse raised his head and shook it back and forth with a whiny, then went to see how his other friend had progressed.

Nimue had reached into her pack and pulled out a torn off piece of lembas. She handed it to the horse who snatched it up with a delighted noise. His companion nudged his neck as if he were trying to persuade the other to let him have some.

Legolas watched Nimue as she laughed at the two horses’ antics. Her laugh sent a warm thrill through him. It sounded like the tiny bells that hung outside his mother’s room window for the wind to catch.

“Now, now, that’s enough,” Beorn said, affectionately chiding the horses. “On with you now.” He shooed them away. “Come inside and rest your feet.”


Nimue and Legolas stepped inside. The hall was quite dark. Beorn clapped his hands. At his summons four beautiful white ponies and three gray-hounds came in.

Beorn with a pleased smile, leaned down and spoke softly to them in a language that neither Nimue nor Legolas recognized.

The animals left, but quickly returned, bearing torches in their mouths. Beorn lit the torches in the fire he had started in the central hearth. He then stuck them in low brackets and nailed them to the pillars near the hearth.

Nimue watched in amazement as the dogs suddenly rose up on the their hind feet and began to carry things around with their forearms.

Then, Legolas and Nimue heard the sound of sheep and turned to find the snow-white animals bearing embroidered table cloths. Other animals soon came in carrying dishes, utensils, and three tankards.

A white and brown speckled pony nudged two long benches toward a lengthy table that Beorn had carried in and placed in the center of the hall. When the benches were situated, another pony pushed a large oaken chair, which Nimue and Legolas assumed to be Beorn’s, to the head of the table.

“My, my!” Beorn exclaimed after everything was settled and ready. “I haven’t had company since . . . well, since that halfling, a hobbit I think he was called . . Bilbo! that’s right! and Gandalf. Also all those dwarves that came in after their mix-up with the goblins of Eyrie.”

“Have you heard from Mithrindir lately?” Legolas asked.

“Who?”

“I’m sorry - Gandalf- have you heard from Gandalf lately?”

“No, well not personally, but my pigeons here told me they saw him entering Rivendell.”

“I shall get to see him again then!” Legolas said with a fond smile. All the elves knew of Gandalf and were fond of him. Nimue, who hadn’t met Gandalf yet, was anxious to meet him. She had met his brother, Radagast the Brown once and liked him very much, so she was sure that she would be just as fond of Gandalf as Legolas was.


After a comfortable dinner the three of them, Beorn, Legolas, and Nimue, sat contentedly sipping their drinking-bowls filled with mead.

Then Beorn sat up.

“Well, I have bit o’ business to be attendin’ to. I should be back before dawn. I warn you now, though -and I said this to Bilbo and his party- You must not stray outside until the sun is up, on your peril.” And with that he left.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Legolas soon felt himself beginning to slip into sleep, when he was aroused by the sound of humming. Legolas turned toward the sound to find that it was Nimue.

“What are you humming?” He asked quietly.

“Oh . . well . . I . .”

“Come along, what is it?” Legolas said with a laugh, finding her reddening cheeks amusing.

“ . . I was singing Beren’s Song to Luthien

“Trenerich i narn.” (Tell/recite/sing the tale).

“I’m not a very good singer, hir nin.”

“I shall be the judge of that,” Legolas said softly yet firmly.

Nimue took in a deep breath and began:

“Farewell sweet earth and northern sky, forever blest,
Since he lie and here with lissome limbs,
Run beneath the Moon, beneath the Sun,
Luthien Tinuviel,
More fair than mortal tongue can tell.
Though all to ruin fell the world and dissolved,
And backward hurled unmade into the old abyss,
Yet were its making good this---
The dusk,
The dawn,
The earth,
the sea, ---
That Luthien,

For a time should be.”


Legolas found himself drawing nearer to Nimue as she sang. Her voice! Such a beautiful voice he had not heard from any elf before, save for the Lady Galadriel.

When Nimue had finished, Legolas opened his mouth to praise her but found that his throat had dried up and no words would come out of his mouth. All he could do was stare at her; not fully understanding the effect she had on him and almost afraid to investigate into it.

He tore his eyes away from her as she looked at him.


“Hir nin? Are you ill? I hope my singing was not that dreadful!” Nimue laughed.


There was that laugh again, it immobilized Legolas’ tongue. After a moment all he could manage was: “We have a long journey ahead of us, we should get some rest.”

Legolas rose to his feet and rustled up the two piles of hay lying on either side of the hearth. He lay down on one and Nimue -who felt a little put out because he didn’t say if he liked her singing or not- lay on the other..

“Losto mae, hir nin,” Nimue said quietly (Sleep well).

“Losto mae, Nimue.”


Chapter 7 - The Misty Mountains

The Misty Mountains
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The next morning, the sun rose brightly, greeting the elves as they ate breakfast. Elves tend to be early risers.

Beorn had returned to the house just as they were waking up. He had been out most of the night, hunting down the any of the remaining orcs in the area.


When the elves prepared to leave, Beorn presented them with two new flasks.

“They’re filled with mead,” he said with a wink, “in case you get tired of water.”

Legolas smiled warmly as he took the flasks from Beorn’s gigantic hands.

“Many thanks!”

“Yes,” put forth Nimue, “many thanks for everything! The shelter and the mead.”

“My pleasure to serve the First Born.”


Legolas and Nimue soon took their leave of Beorn’s Hall and continued on their journey Southward to the Old Ford.


The trip to the Old Ford was thankfully uneventful. It was mid-morning when they reached the crossing.

“Do you think that we will run into any Goblins while passing through the Misty Mountains, Hir nin?” Nimue asked as they crossed the ford

“I cannot say. It is a possibility, but less of a one since we did not cross by way of Carrock.”

The two rode in silence for quite some time, each to their own thoughts.

Nimue stared at the Misty Mountains, which rose into view up ahead. Her eyes scanned its peaks and followed the clouds swarming about them.


The trek up the mountain was not as hard as Nimue had imagined it to be, for the mountain sloped gradually, giving Nimue’s legs a chance to adapt to the incline without getting too tired too fast.

Legolas was walking two feet infront of her. Nimue saw that he left no trace of footprint, and though she was not surprised, it made her a little ashamed. When she looked back over her shoulder she could see the slight outlines of her footsteps in the snow.

Even though elvish eyes would be the only ones capable of spotting her footprints, it still bothered her. It was the mortal blood in Nimue that made her weigh more than a normal elf.


Legolas glanced back at her, his gaze falling to her feet and to the path behind her. His eyebrows rose.

Nimue felt a deep blush creep into her cheeks. Legolas turned back to concentrate on the road ahead. Nimue was grateful for Legolas’ silence.


It was mid-day by the time the elves reached the part of the mountain-path which clung to the peaks.

The snow began to fall heavily, and the wind had picked up, hurling the drifts in their direction.

The wind loosened strands of Nimue’s hair; stinging her face with them.

Legolas peered into the blinding depths of the blizzard, his eyes just barely making out the path ahead. He turned to his companion, to find that she was not there.

“Nimue?”


Nimue had fallen farther and farther behind. Her legs had grown so cold, she could barely feel them, and although she could not fall ill from the cold, it could hinder her abilities to dangerous point, making her vulnerable to attacks.

Nimue hugged herself as she trudged along. Her teeth were chattering so loud that Nimue could hardly hear anything else above the wailing wind, except . . .

Was that her name being called?

Nimue’s head whipped up. She saw the figure of Prince Legolas through the torrent of snow. He was calling her name.

“Nimue! Ias bennich?” (Where did you go?)

Suddenly as Nimue ran, actually it was more like stumbled, towards him, she saw another dark figure appear and pounce upon Legolas.

“Hir nin!”

Finally, when Nimue reached the spot where Legolas had been, she found him to be gone.

Nimue forced down the panic that welled up inside her and looked about. She spied a set of fresh tracks. They had the basic structure of a man’s footprint, yet she could see that the toes were longer, much longer, and the indentations in the snow right above the toes marked claws.

Suddenly, an awful noise that sounded like a cross between a screech and a growl reached Nimue’s ears.

“Goblins!”

Nimue, ignoring her freezing limbs, set off at a run, following the tracks and the sounds.

The footprints went onward in the direction she and Legolas had been taking.

Nimue stayed close to the side of the mountain as she ran along. Suddenly she slowed down. Nimue stopped for a moment and pressed a delicately pointed ear to the side of the mountain-face.

She heard the scraping sounds of clawed feet scurrying over stone floors. She even heard the sound of a few ugly voices.

Nimue began to walk fast paced along the path; running her right hand along the mountain-face while her left hand clutched the hilt of her sword.



Go


Chapter 8 - Escaping the Goblins

Escaping the Goblins
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Nimue’s hand slid over a crack in the mountain side. She could feel a change in temperature pour forth from it. The crack was big enough for her to stick to her fingers into. Then, summoning the elf magic within her, she cried out,

“Edro!” (Open!)

A brilliant flash of golden light erupted between her hand and the crack. Now the crack was widened to a point where she could slip in.

The passageway she found herself within was dark and cold. Nimue heard the sounds of scurrying Goblins up ahead. Pressing herself against the wet stone wall, she followed a few feet behind them.

“What luck!” She heard one say, “Elf-flesh tonight! I haven’t had Elf-flesh since . . . I can’t remember. Won’t King Girgulk be pleased!”
Since the death of the last Goblin king, his heir, Girgulk had been ruling. There were tales of him being just as dangerous and stupid as the last king.

“You can babble on about him being pleased or not later, right now we have to get this elf to King Girgulk before he wakes up. He would want the pleasure of torturing the elf before putting him out of his misery. We had better hurry! The elf may be light, but I don’t think we could hold him by ourselves if he was awake and fighting.”

Nimue’s anger had boiled over. She was about to rush forward and pierce the two hideous creatures with Rhiw, when she saw the two goblins pass through a doorway. The throne room of King Girgulk.

“Ah! You have brought me Elf-flesh then, Grimbuk, Baloch.”

“Yes, your highness,” they responded in unison.


One goblin had come up behind Legolas, who was being held up by Grimbuk and Baloch, and thrust the butt of his spear, fiercely into Legolas’ back.

Legolas groaned, then slowly opened his eyes. He struggled against his captors, once he regained full conciousness.

“Your struggles are futile, Master Elf,” said Girgulk with a harsh laugh. “Grimbuk and Baloch are the strongest goblins under my rule.”

Legolas fought against his captors again, ignoring Girgulk’s words. He kicked out his right leg, which struck a bowl nearby, filled with wine. The wine splashed all over the Goblin King. He roared and stood up in fury, his blazing eyes fixed upon Legolas.

Legolas, despite his situation, began to laugh.

“I suppose you think that’s funny?!” Girgulk roared.

“Lasto al lalaith nin!” Legolas shouted, with a definant grin on his face. (Listen to my laughter! *Elvish insult*)

Girgulk gestured to Grimbuk who drew out a goblin dagger made a long gash across Legolas’ back. The elf prince gritted his teeth, determined not to show any pain.

Baloch back-handed Legolas across the face and Grimbuk thrust his fist into Legolas’ stomach. Legolas doubled over in pain, only to be forced to lean far back when another goblin yanked his golden hair. So fiercely was it pulled, that tears stung his keen eyes.
“Why aren’t you laughing now, O’ mighty elf? I find this immeasurably comical.”
With that, Girgulk snatched up a spear, which had been leaning on the arm of his throne. He made to drive it through the elf prince’s heart.

Suddenly, an arrow came whizzing from behind and struck the goblin king right between the eyes.

In their surprise, Grimbuk and Baloch let go of Legolas. The elven prince dove for his knives and bow and arrow, which he had seen the goblins set down near the doorway when he was brought in. Legolas was shocked to find that they were not there.
Suddenly, he saw a glint of metal in the torch-light near entrance to the throne room. He weaved through the confused goblins who were tripping over each other to get to Girgulk.

Legolas rushed out of the throne room, only to run into something that fell with him upon contact. Now, the prince was never clumsy but, having been a bit injured, his elvish sense of balance was not yet up to par.
Legolas sensed that he was now lying on top of -not cold hard stone- but something warm and lithe. Just enough torch-light spilled through the doorway that, when he raised himself up a bit and turned his head, to see what broke his fall, Legolas found himself nose-to-nose with Nimue.

Her eyes were wide and he could feel her chest rise and fall heavily under his own. He was also greatly aware of his feeling the rapidity of Nimue’s heartbeat against his breast as they lay there.

Legolas was the first to snap out of the daze, though. He quickly got up and helped Nimue to her feet.

Nimue handed Legolas his bow and quiver and knives as they rushed toward the giant crack in the mountain-side.

A loud and ugly cry, arose from the goblins behind them, when they had realized that their king was dead. The entire hoard of goblins in the throne room rushed after the two elves, brandishing their crude weapons.

Legolas shot a volley of arrows behind him as he ran, felling a few of the leading goblins.

Nimue’s Rhiw caught a goblin, who had sprung at her, in mid-air.

Legolas and Nimue slipped through the crack in the mountain-side and Legolas commanded the crack to seal itself, using the magic of the elves.

Legolas and Nimue continued their way over the Misty Mountains as fast as they could before the goblins could open a new entry-way.


Nimue welcomed the feeling of warmth that spread over her the closer they got to the base of the mountains.

She stretched her tired arms as she lead her horse down the rocky terrain. Nimue stole a glance at Legolas. His countenance was serious as he walked along with a far-away look in his eye.

Their horses had fled down the slopes after the goblins’ arrival. Amazingly, the goblins had taken no notice of the creatures. There the horses had waited until their master and mistress came down the mountain-side themselves.

A look of discomfort suddenly crossed Legolas’ face and he rolled his shoulders.

“Hir nin, are you all right?” Nimue hadn’t seen him being beaten by the goblins.

“It is just a slight wound, I will be fine. It is healing already.”

“Let me see it.”

“No- Nimue, that is not necess-”

Nimue was already inspecting Legolas’ back. The back of his tunic had large bloodstain.

“Hir nin, with your permission, may I lift your tunic, to see the wound?”

Legolas hesitated, then nodded his consent. He was sure the wound was healing, and yet he wasn’t able to see it. It would be best for someone to examine it.

Nimue gingerly lifted the tunic and found that Legolas had been correct. The wound was healing, and quite rapidly at that. Before she could stop herself, Nimue gently prodded the slash across Legolas’ back with her fingers. She felt Legolas stiffen, and take a sharp, hissing breath through his teeth.
Nimue quickly pulled back her hand. “I’m sorry!” she cried, “did I hurt you?”
“No, it’s all right.”
Nimue carefully lowered his tunic. “May I suggest something, hir nin?” She asked.

“Yes.”

“Put on your overlaying tunic until you can get the one you are wearing washed.”

“Hennaid. I appreciate your suggestion, Nimue, I shall take it.” (Thanks)
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*REVIEW PLEASE! HENNAID!* :)


Chapter 9 - The Council at Rivendell

A/N: The scene at the council is mixed with the book and the movie. So I have an excerpt from the script and the book. Mostly from the book because I love the way the scene goes in the book! Also because Legolas has a speech in it about Gollum! :) I have so much of the book here just for the benefit of those who have not read the book so that they may receive a taste of Tolkien's style and some backround information. Now, you must keep an eye on the quotations for I did it the "English class way" and single quoted speakers in the book excerpt, but I also ended lines with quotes to show the end of the excerpt to write in Nimue's perspective. So, there will be no confusion of thinking Nimue was part of the book. :)

The Council at Rivendell

Legolas and Nimue's spirits rose as they gazed upon the home of Lord Elrond. They had reached Rivendell at last. Their horses grew anxious with anticipation, knowing that they would soon be in the care of the horse-hands at Elrond's stables after such a harrowing journey.

Legolas' horse bounded to the main gate. The prince quickly dismounted and gazed about him in quiet awe, taking in the beauty of Rivendell. Nimue had ridden beside him and had also dismounted. She was now stroking the horse, telling it to be good while at Elrond's stables. The stable-hands soon came and took the horses, then Legolas and Nimue proceeded up the steps to the main gate and walked through.
They walked into great shimmering hall, many of them open to balconies that overlooked the lush valley. The two elves were soon given rooms and were separated for a time.
Legolas was walking down the corridor towards Lord Elrond's chambers when he encountered an old friend.
"Aragorn!"
The heir of Isildur smiled and embraced the elf.
"Legolas!"
"How are you?"
"I am well, and you?"
"I am well."
"What are you doing here?"
"I bring tidings from my father for Lord Elrond."
"Well, you shall have the chance to speak with him at the council later today."
Legolas tilted his head. "Council? What for?"
"Surely you have heard!" Aragorn said with surprise, "The council concerning what to do with . . the One Ring."
"Isildur's Bane!" Legolas exclaimed.
"Yes," Aragorn replied, a worn look coming upon his face, though it soon disappeared when the ranger caught sight of Arwen coming down the hall behind Legolas.
"Ah! Legolas!" she cried giving him a gracefull hug, "it is good to see you again!"
"It is good to see you again as well, Lady Arwen."
Arwen then moved to stand at Aragorn's side. It was then that Legolas noticed something shimmering inside Aragorn's open collar. As he looked harder he realised that it was Arwen's Evenstar. He looked up at Arwen, concern written on his face.
Arwen read his facial expression which asked her if she really wanted to do this and she nodded. Love and determination shone in her eyes. Legolas smiled, saddened but at the same time he was happy for them. He grasped Aragorn's arm in a firm shake and embraced Arwen once more.
"I wish you both happiness to the full!"
"Hannaid," said Aragorn. (Thankyou)
Nimue had been walking among the gardens when she heard the bell. She had heard something about a council but did not know what it was about. As the summons rang through Rivendell, Nimue picked up the skirts of her gown, which she had been given to wear whilst she remained in Elronds house, and ran towards the doorway. Now, she wasn't called to attend the council but that wouldn't prevent her from listening.
She stopped an elf with dark hair like Lord Elrond's, who had been walking down the corridor.
"Mas i'ovaded?" (Where is the meeting?)
"Aphado nin, I am going there myself." (Follow me) Nimue did, and soon they got to talking.
"Man eneth lin?" The elf asked as they strode through the hall. (What is your name?)
"Nimue Elenath I eneth nin , daughter of Eohric, Swordmaster of Mirkwood. Yours?" (My name is . .)
"Elladan, son of Lord Elrond the half-elven, king of Imladris."
"Oh! I am very pleased to meet you, my lord."
"And it was a pleasure meeting you," Elladan said bowing to Nimue then walking out into the council area, which they had just reached.
Nimue took a peek at the gathering and looked upon it with wonder. Men, Dwarves, to her disgust, Elves, and what surprisingly appeared to be a child. After close scrutiny she realised that he was very small adult of some race she had never seen before. "Of what race is he?" She whispered to herself.
"He's a hobbit, madam."
Nimue whirled around to find a similar being, though much older, standing before her. "A-a what?" Nimue was quite taken aback. Why hadn't she heard him coming?
"A hobbit," he repeated.
"I have never heard of such a race."
"Well, we tend to be a quiet folk, not many know of us. To the Middle Earth at large we are known as halflings."
"Ah . ." Nimue said nodding her head.
"Bilbo Baggins, at your service madam," the elderly gentleman said with a sweeping bow.
"Nimue Elenath, at yours."
Bilbo nodded his head again then gestured to the hobbit that Nimue had been watching. "That is my nephew, Frodo Baggins. He brought my- the Ring here."
Nimue's head suddenly turned at the sound of his voice, which had strangely changed for a moment at his mention of the Ring. A shadow flicked across his face then was soon gone, replaced once again by his genial smile.
"The One Ring?" Nimue said, throughly startled by it all.
"Bilbo," came Elrond's voice from outside, "the council is about to begin."
"I am coming!" He called, then with a quick good-bye and a wink he said, "'Twas a pleasure meeting you madam," and spryly scuttled out.
Nimue took one last glimpse at the assembly and spotted a wisened old man sitting down beside Bilbo and Frodo. His long silvery hair reached past his shoulders which was covered by a weather-stained green robe. He also had a long gray beard and mustache. His eyes shone with sagacity and his face was careworn.
"Mithrandir!" (Elves' and the people of Gondor's name for Gandalf) Nimue held this wise wizard in the deepest respect and was delighted to see him again after so many long years. Then, she spotted Legolas sitting among a few other elves. His expression was intense and concern was etched on his face.
Nimue sat down near the door with her back to the wall; her sharp ears tuning to the conversation.
Elrond spoke first:
"'You have done well to come,' said Elrond. 'You will hear today all that you need in order to understand the purposes of the Enemy. There is naught that you can do, other than resist, with hope or without it. But you do not stand alone. You will learn that your trouble is part of the trouble of all the western world. The Ring! What shall we do with the Ring, the least of the rings, the trifle that Sauron fancies? That is the doom we must deem.
'That is the purpose for which you are called hither. Called I say, though I have no called you to me, strangers from distant lands. You have come and are here met, in the very nick of time, by chance as it may seem. Yet it is not so. Believe rather that it is ordered that we, who sit here, and none others, must now find counsel for the peril of the world.
'Now, therefore, things shall be openly spoken that have been hidden from all but a few until this day. And first, so that all may understand what is the peril, the Tale of the Ring shall be told from the beginning even to this present. And I will begin that tale, though others shall end it.'"
. . . There Nimue's mind wandered and she paid no heed, for she knew the story of the origins of the ring. Her own thoughts after a few minutes were broken by Frodo's voice.
"'You remember?' said Frodo, speaking his thought aloud in his astonishment."
Nimue wondered what Frodo was referring to and gave her full attention to the council once more.
"'But I thought,' he stammered as Elrond turned towards him, 'I thought that the fall of Gil-galad was a long age ago.'
'So it was indeed,' answered Elrond gravely. 'But my memory reaches back even to the Elder Days. Earendil was my sire, who was born in Gondolin before its fall; and my mother was Elwing, daughter of Dior, son of Luthien of Doriath. I have seen three ages in the West of the world, and many defeats, and many fruitless victories.
'I was the herald of Gil-galad and marched with his host. I was at the Battle of Dagorlad before the Black Gate of Mordor, where we had the mastery: for the Spear of Gil-galad and the Sword of Elendil, Aiglos and Narsil, none could withstand. I beheld the last combat on the slopes of Orodruin, where Gil-galad died, and Elendil fell, and Narsil broke beneath him; but Sauron himself was overthrown, and Isildur cut the Ring from his hand with the hilt-shard of his father's sword, and took it for his own.'
At this the strange, Boromir, broke in. 'So that is what became of the Ring!' he cried. 'If ever such a tale was told in the South, it has long been forgotten. I have heard of the Great Ring of him that we do not name; but we believed that it perished from the world in the ruin of his first realm. Isildur took it! That is tidings indeed.'
'Alas! yes,' said Elrond. 'Isildur took it, as should not have been. It should have been cast then into Orodruin's fire nigh at hand where it was made. But few marked what Isildur did. He alone stood be his father in that last mortal contest; and by Gil-galad only Cirdan stood, and I. But Isildur would not listen to our council.
""This I will have as weregild for my father, and my brother,' he said; and therefore whether we would or no, he took it to treasure it. But soon he was betrayed by it to his death; and so it is named in the North Isildur's Bane. Yet death maybe was better than what else might have befallen him.
'Only to the North did these tidings come, and to only a few. Small wonder it is that you have not heard them, Boromir. From the ruin of the Gladden Fields, where Isildur perished, three men only came ever back over the mountains long after wandering. One of these was Ohtar, the esquire of Isildur, who bore the shards of the sword of Elendil; and he brought them to Valandil, the heir of Isildur, who being but a child had remained here in Rivendell. But Narsil was broken and its light extinguished, and it has not yet been forged again.
'Fruitless did I call the victory of the Last Alliance? Not wholly so, yet it did not achieve its end. Sauron was diminished, but not destroyed. His Ring was not unmade. The Dark Tower was broken, but its foundations were not removed; for they were made with the power of the Ring, and while it remains they will endure. Many Elves and many mighty Men and many of their friends, had perished in the war. Anarion was slain, Isildur was slain; and Gil-galad and Elendil were no more. Never again shall there be any such league of Elves and Men; for Men multilply and the Firstborn decrease, and the two kindreds are estranged. And ever since that day the race of Numenor has decayed, and the span of their years has lessened.
'In the North after the war and the slaughter of the Gladden Fields the Men of Westernesse were diminished, and their city of Annuminas beside Lake Evendim fell into ruin; and the heirs of Valandil removed and dwelt at Fornost on the high North Downs, and that now too is desolate. Men call it Deadmen's Dike, and they fear to tread there. For the folk of Arnor dwindled, and their foes devoured them, and their lordship passed, leaving only green mounds in the grassy hills.
'In the South the realm of Gondor long endured; and for a while its splendour grew, recalling somewhat of the might of Numenor, ere it fell. High towers that people built, and strong places, and havens of many ships; and the winged crown of the Kings of Men was held in awe by folk of many tongues. Their chief city was Osgiliath, Citadel of the Stars, through the midst of which the River flowed. And Minas Ithil they built, Tower of the Rising Moon, eastward upon a shoulder of the Mountains of Shadow; and westward at the feet of the White Mountains of Minas Anor they a white Tower of the Setting Sun. There in the courts of the King grew a white tree, from the seed of that tree which Isildur brought over the deep waters, and the seed of that tree before came from Eressea, and before that out of the Uttermost West in the Day before days when the world was young.
'But in the wearing of the swift years of Middle-earth the line of Meneldil son of Anarion failed, and the Tree withered, and the blood of the Numenoreans became mingled with that of lesser men. Then the watch upon the walls of Mordor slept, and dark things crept back to Gorgoroth. And on a time evil things came forth, and they took Minas Ithil and abode in it, and they made it into a place of dread; and it is called Minas Morgul, the Tower of Sorcery. Then Minas Anor was named anew Minas Tirith, the Tower of Guard' and these two cities were ever at war, but Osgiliath which lay between was deserted and in its ruins shadows walked.
'So it has been for many lives of men. But the Lords of Minas Tirith still fight on, defying our enemies, keeping the passage of the River from Argonath to the Sea. And now that part of the tale that I shall tell is drawn to its close. For in the days of Isildur the Ruling Ring passed out of all knowledge, and the Three were released from its dominion. But now in this latter day they are in peril once more, for to our sorrow the One has been found. Others shall speak of its finding, for in that I played a small part.'
He ceased, but at once Boromir stood up, tall and proud, before them.
'Give me leave, Master Elrond,' said he, 'first to say more of Gondor, for verily the land of Gondor I am come. And it would be well for all to know what passes there . . .'"
Here again Nimue's mind drifted, for the faring of Gondor was not of her concern and she did not have must interest in it. Though, she did have a sense of foreboding when it came to Boromir, but she did not know why.
Soon Nimue heard a poem issuing forth from Boromir's lips that brought her attention back.

"'Seek for the Sword that was broken:
In Imladris it dwells;
There shall be counsels taken
Stronger than Morgul-spells.
There shall be shown a token
That Doom is near at hand,
For Isildur's Bane shall waken,
And the Halfling forth shall stand.
Of these words we could understand little, and we spoke to our father, Denethor, Lord of Minas Tirith, wise in the lore of Gondor, This only he would say, that Imladris was of old the name among the Elves of a far northern dale, where Elrond the Halfelven dwelt, greatest of lore-masters. Therefore my brother, seeing how desparate was our need, was eager to heed the dream and seek for Imladris; but since the way was full of doubt and danger, I took the journey upon myself. Loth was my father to give me leave, and long have I wandered by roads forgotten, seeking the house of Elrond, of which many had heard, but few knew where it lay.'

'And here in the house of Elrond more shall be made clear to you.' said Aragorn standing up. He cast his sword upon the table that stood before Elrond, and the blade was in two pieces. 'Here is the Sword that was Broken!' he said.
'And who are you, and what have you to do with Minas Tirith?' asked Boromir, looking in wonder at the lean face of the Ranger and his weather-stained cloak.
'He is Aragorn son of Arathorn,' said Elrond; 'and he is descended through many fathers from Isildur Elendil's son of Minas Ithil. He is the Cheif of the Dunedain in the North, and few are now left of that folk.'
'Then it belongs to you, and not to me at all!' cried Frodo in amazement, springing to his feet, as if he expected the Ring to be demanded at once.
'It does not belong to either of us,' said Aragorn, 'but it has been ordained that you should hold it for a while.'
'Bring out the Ring, Frodo!' said Gandalf solemnly. 'The time has come. Hold it up, and then Boromir will understand the remainder of his riddle.'"
Nimue dared to look out from the shelter of the doorway once more. For she very much desired to catch a glimpse of this Ring that had thrown the whole of Middle Earth into turmoil.
"There was a hush, and all turned their eyes on Frodo. He was shaken by a sudden shame and fear; and he felt a great reluctance to reveal the Ring, and a loathing of its touch. He wished he was far away. The Ring gleamed and flickered as he held it up before them in his trembling hand.
'Behold Isildur's Bane!' said Elrond.
Boromir's eyes glinted as he gazed at the golden thing. 'The Halfling!' he muttered." He soon said something else about the doom of Gondor but Nimue did not hear for suddenly whispers came to her ears that she only seemed to hear. They were whispers with enticing voices, speaking something of . . Mirkwood. Her mind soon went to thinking, visualizing herself with the Ring. The leaves of Mirkwood would be green again by its power, the forest will be pulled free of the darkness, its name restored to that of Greenwood. Lastly the whispers spoke of something else . . . Legolas. Suddenly the spell by Bilbo who suddenly spoke up. Nimue shook her head, clearing her earlier thoughts from her head.
"'All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.
From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring;
Renewed shall be blade that was broken:
The crownless again shall be king.
'Not very good perhaps, but to the point-- if you need more beyond the word of Elrond. If that was worth a journey of a hundred and ten days to hear, you had best listen to it.' He sat down with a snort.
'I made that up myself,'" Nimue heard him whisper to Frodo, "'for the Dunadan, a long time ago when he first told me about himself. I almost wish that my adventures were not over, and that I could go with him when his day comes.'
Aragorn smiled at him; then he turned to Boromir again. 'For my part I forgive your doubt,' he said. 'Little do I resemble the figures of Elendil and Isildur as they stand carven in their majesty in the halls of Denethor. I am but the heir of Isildur, not Isildur himself. I have had a hard life and a long; and the leagues that lie between here and Gondor are a small part in the count of my journeys. I have crossed many mountains and many rivers, and trodden many plains, even into the far countries of Rhun and Harad where the stars are strange.
'But my home, such as I have, is in the North. For here the heirs of Valandil have ever dwelt in long lone unbroken from father unto son for many generations. Our days have darkened, and we have dwindled; but ever the Sword has passed to a new keeper. And this I will say to you, Boromir, ere I end. Lonely men are we, Rangers of the wild, hunters-- but hunters ever the servants of the Enemy; for they are found in many places, not in Mordor only.
'If Gondor, Boromir, has been a stalwart tower, we have played another part. Many evil things there are that your strong walls and bright swords do not stay. You know little of the lands beyond you bounds. Peace and freedom, do you say? The North would have known them little but for us. Fear would have destroyed them. But when dark things come from the houseless hills, or creep from sunless woods, they fly from us. What roads would any dare to tread, what saftey would there be in quiet lands, or in the homes of simple men at night if the Dunedain were asleep, or were all gone into the grave?
'And yet less thanks have we than you. Travellers scowl at us, and countrymen give us scornful names. "Strider" I am to one fat man who lives withing a day's march of foes that would freeze his heart, or lay his little town in ruin. If simple folk are free from care and fear, simple they will be, and we must be secret to keep them so. That has been the task of my kindred, while the years have lengthened and the grass has grown.
'But now the world is changing once again. A new hour comes. Isildur's Bane is found. Battle is at hand. The Sword shall be reforged. I will come to Minas Tirith.'
'Isildur's Bane is found, you say,' said Boromir. 'I have seen a bright ring in the Halfling's hand; but Isildur perished ere this age of the world began, they say. How do the Wise know that his ring is his? And how has it passed down the years, until it is brought hither by so strange a messenger?'
'That shall be told,' said Elrond.
'But not yet, I beg, Master!' said Bilbo. 'Already the Sun is climbing to noon, and I feel the need of something to strengthen me.'
'I had not named you,' said Elrond smiling. 'But I do so now. Come! Tell us your tale. And if you have not yet cast your story into verse, you may tell it in plain words. The briefer, the sooner shall you be refreshed.'
'Very well,' said Bilbo. 'I will do as you bid. But I will now tell the true story, and if some here have heard me tell it otherwise'-- he looked sidelong at Gloin-- 'I ask them to forget it and forgive me. I only wished to claime the treasure as my own in those days, and be rid of the name of thief that was put on me. But perhaps I understand things a little better now. Anyway, this is what happened.'
To some there Bilbo's tale was wholly new," for example, Nimue, "and they listened with amazement while the old hobbit, actually not at all displeased, recounted his adventure with Gollum, at full length. He did not omit a single riddle. He would have given also an account of his party and disappearance from the Shire, if he had been allowed; but Elrond raised his hand.
'Well told, my friend,' he said, 'but that is enough at this time. For the moment it suffices to know that the Ring passed to Frodo, your heir. Let him now speak!'
Then, less willingly than Bilbo, Frodo told of all his dealings with the Ring from the day it passed into his keeping. Every step of his journey from Hobbiton to the Ford at Bruinen was questioned and considered, and everything that he could recall concerning the Black Riders was examined. At last he sat down again.
'Not bad,' Bilbo said to him. 'You would have made a good story of it, if they hadn't kept interrupting. I tried to make a few notes, but we shall have to go over it all again together some time, if I am to write it up. There are whole chapters of stuff before you ever got here!'
'Yes, it made quite a long tale,' answered Frodo. 'But the story still does not seem complete to me. I still want to know a good deal, especially about Gandalf.'
Galdor of the Havens, who sat near by, overheard him. 'You speak for me also,' he cried, and turning to Elrond he said: 'The Wise have good reason to believe that the halfling's trove is indeed the Great Ring of long debate, unlikely though that may seem to those who know less. But may we not hear the proofs? And I would ask this also. What of Saruman? He is learned in the lore of the Rings, yet he is not among us. What is his counsel-- if he knows the things that we have heard?'
'The questions that you ask, Galdor, are bound together,' said Elrond. 'I had not overlooked them, and they shall be answered. But these things it is the part of Gandalf to make clea; and I call upon him last, for it is the place of honour, and in all this matter he has been chief.'
'Some, Galdor,' said Gandalf, 'would thing the tidings of Gloin, and the pursuit of Frodo, proof enough that the halfling's trove is a thing of great worth to the Enemy. Yet it is a ring. What then? The Nine of the Nazgul keep. The Seven are taken or destroyed.' At this Gloin stirred, but did not speak. 'The Three we know of. When then is this one that he desires so much?
'There is indeed a wide waste of time between the River and the Mountain, between the loss and the finding. But the gap in the knowledge of the Wise has been filled at last. Yet too slowly. For the Enemy has been close behind, closer even than I feared. ANd well is it that not until this year, this very summer, as it seems, did her learn the full truth.
'Some here will remember that many years ago I myself dared to pass the door of the Necromancer in Dol Guldur, and secretly explored his ways, and found thus that our fears were true: he was none other than Sauron, our Enemy of old, at length taking shape and power again. Some, too, will remember also that Saruman dissuaded us from open deeds against him, and for long we watched him only. Yet, at last, as his shadow grew, Saruman yielded, and the Council put forth its strength and drove the evil out of Mirkwood-- and tha twas in the very year of the finding of this Ring: a strange chance it was . .'"
The council went on and Nimue reflected on Mirkwood as Gandalf spoke. Soon Ganalf went to talking of what he uncovered of the history of The Ring in some old scrolls from Minas Tirith.
'And after these words Isildur described the Ring such as he found it.'

It was hot when I first took it, hot as a glede, and my hand was scorched so that I doubt if ever again I shall be free of the pain of it. Yet even as I write itis cooled, and it seemeth to shrink, though it loseth neither its beauty nor its shape. Already the writing upon it, which at first was as clear as red flame, fadeth and is now only barely to be read. It is fashioned in an elvenscript of Eregion, for they have no letters in Mordor for such subtle work; but the language is unknown to me. I deem it to be a tongue of the Black Land, since it is foul and uncouth. What evil it saith I do not know; but I trace here a coby of it, lest it fade beyond recall. The Ring misseth, maybe, the heat of Sauron's hand, which was black yet burned like fire, and so Gil-galad was destroyed; and maybe were the gold made hot again, the writing would be refreshed. But for my part I will risk no hurt to this thing: of all the works of Sauron the only fair. It is precious to me, though I buy it with great pain.'"
. . . "'Upon this very ring which you have here seen held aloft, round and unadorned, the letters that Isildur reported may still be read, if one has the strength of will to set the golden thing in the fire a while. That I have done, and this I have read:
Ash nazg durbatuluk, ash nazg gimbatul, ash nazg thrakatuluk
agh burzum-ishi krimpatul.'
The change in the wizard's voice was astounding. Suddenly it became menacing, powerfull, harsh as stone. A shadow seemed to pass over the high sun, and the porch for a moment grew dark. All trembled, and the Elves stopped their ears.'"
The same was with Nimue. At the words, she trembled, and for the first time in her life quailed, and curled up into a ball with her hands over her ears, trying to block out the horrible Black Speech.
"'Never before has any voice dared to utter words of that tongue in Imladris, Gandalf the Grey,' said Elrond, as the shadow passed and the company breathed once more.
'And let us hope that none will ever speak it here again,' answered Gandalf."
Gandalf then translated the Black words to them:
One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them,
One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them.
Soon the conversation turned to that of Gollum. To Nimue's wonder, her ears delighted in the sound of the next voice:
"'Alas! Alas!' Cried Legolas, and in his fair elvish face there was great distress. 'The tidings that I was sent to bring must now be told. They are not good, but only here have I learned how evil they may seem to this company. Smeagol, who is now called Gollum, has escaped.'
'Escaped?' cried Aragorn. 'That is ill news indeed. We shall all rue it bitterly, I fear. How came the folk of Thranduil to fail in their trust?'
'Not through lack of watchfulness,' said Legolas; 'but perhaps though over-kindliness. And we fear that the prisoner had aid from others, and that more is known of out doings than we could wish. We guarded this creature day and night, at Gandalf's bidding, much though we wearied of the task. But Gandalf bade us hope still for his cure , and we had not the heart to keep him ever in dungeons under the earth, where he would fall back into his old black thoughts.'
'You were less tender to me,' said Gloin with a flash of his eyes, as old memories were stirred of his imprisonment in the deeo places of the Elven-king's halls.
'Now come!' said Gandalf. 'Pray do not interrupt, my goo Gloin. That was a regrettable misundertanding, long set right. If all grievances that stand between Elves and Dwarves are to be brought up here, we may as well abandon this Council.'
Gloín rose and bowed, and Legolas continued. 'In the days of fair weather we led Gollum through the woods; and there was a high tree standing alone far from the others which he liked to climb. Often we let him mount up to the highest branches, until he felt the free wind; but we set a guard at the tree's foot. One day he refused to come down, and the guards had no mind to climb after him: he had learned the trick of clinging to the boughs with his feet as well as with his hands; so they sat by the tree far into the night.
'It was that very night of summer, yet moonless and starless, that Orcs came on us at unawares. We drove them off after some time; they were many and fierce, but they came from over the mountains, and were unused to the woods. When the battle was over, we found that Gollum was gone, and his guards were slain or taken. It then seemed plain to us that the attack had been made for his rescue, and that he knew of it beforehand. How that was contrived we cannot guess; but Gollum is cunning, and the spies of the Enemy are mant. The dark things that were drieven out in the year of the Dragon's fall have returned in greater numbers, and Mirkwood is again an evil place, save where our realm is maintained.
'We have failed to recapture Gollum. We came on his trail among those of many Orcs, and it plunged deep into the Forest, going south. But ere long it escaped our skill, and we dared not continue to hunt; for we were drawing nigh to Dol Guldur, and that is still a very evil place; we do not go that way.'
'Well, well, he is gone,' said Gandalf. 'We have no time to seek for him again. He must do what he will. But he may play a part yet that neither he nor Sauron have foreseen.'"
Gandalf now went on to tell of his encounter with the painful betrayal of Saruman.
Soon there came the decsion of who will take the ring to Mordor, to be cast into the fires or Orodruin. Many voices rose forth all shouting in disagreement. Nimue heard Legolas' voice Galdor's voice protesting the dwarves involvement.
Suddenly, Nimue heard the small voice of Frodo speak through the chaotic bickering:
"I will take it!"


Chapter 10 - Meleth Nín

*Sorry if this is not the best of chapters, but I was half asleep while writing it, even though this was a chapter I was really excited to write! Romance (sigh) :)*



Meleth Nín



Elrond raised his eyes and looked at him and Frode felt his heart pierce with the sudden keeness of the glance. ‘If I understand aright all that I have heard,’ he said, ‘I think that this task is appointed for you, Frodo; and that if you do not find a way, no one will.’” . . .
        “‘But you won’t send him off alone surely, Master?’ cried Sam, unable to contain himself any longer, and jumping up from the corner where he himself had been sitting quietly on the floor.
        ‘No indeed!’ said Elrond, turning towards him with a smile. ‘You at least shall go with him. It is hardly possible to separate you from him, even when he is summoned to a secret council and you are not.’
        Sam sat down, blushing and muttering. ‘A nice pickle we have landed ourselves in, Mr. Frodo!’ he said, shaking his head.”
        Gandalf came to Frodo and put his hand on his shoulder.
        “‘I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins, so long as it is yours to bear.’ Then Aragorn rose and knelt before Frodo. “‘If by my life or death, I can protect you, I will. You have my sword.’”
        Nimue heard Legolas rise and her heart was suddenly gripped in fear.
        “‘And you have my bow.’”
        Nimue felt as if her whole world was crashing down around her. She realized the direness of the situation. An elf can be killed in battle and from the scenario of the journey at least a hundred battles seemed to be in view for the ones setting out. Nimue was so distracted by her thoughts she did not hear Gimli, Gloin’s son say:
        “‘And my ax!’” Boromir then walked up. “‘You carry the fates of us all little one. If this is indeed the will of the council, then Gondor will see it done.’” Suddenly two blond curly heads rushed past Nimue shouting:
        
        “‘Wait! We are coming too!’” It was Frodo’s two other companions Meriadoc and Peregrin.
        “‘You'd have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us!’” said Merry.
        “‘Anyway,’” put forth Pippin, “‘you need people of intelligence on this sort of mission . . quest . . thing.
        Merry turned to his friend, “‘Well that rules you out Pip.’”
        Elrond then declared: “‘Nine companions... So be it! You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring!’”
        “‘Great!’” said Pippin, “‘Where are we going?’”
        
        Nimue had run to her room right after Pippin and Merry rushed past her. She threw herself on her bed and began to cry.


*~*~*~*~*

 Legolas strode out of the council, his spirits rose at the thought of the adventurous excursion that lay ahead of him now. Word would have to be sent back to his father of the change of plans, but Legolas would think about that later. The dinner bell broke into his thoughts and he followed the group into the dining hall.
        Evening soon fell and after dinner Legolas went for a stroll in the gardens. Nimue was there also. She was sitting on a bench of stone under a young weeping willow. She was fingering the blooms of a group of Larkspur growing beside the bench.
        “Suilad, hir nin,” she said quietly, not looking up.
        “Suilad, Nimue,” Legolas replied absently, his head still in the clouds of combat glorious.
        The Prince of Mirkwood went to move on to the other parts of the garden when the sound of running feet behind him made him stop.
        “Legolas!” It was Nimue.
        Suddenly he felt a pair of lithe arms encircle his waist. “Please, hir nin . .” Nimue pleaded in a quavery voice.
        The Elven prince turned around. “No, no, you had called me Legolas only a moment before, please don’t stop now!”
        Nimue’s grip loosened, but Legolas caught her hands before she dropped them. Nimue’s head was lowered. Legolas put his hand under her chin and tilted her face up so he could see it. He was surprised to find it streaked with tears.
        “Nimue . .” He had been so preoccupied in his thoughts of the journey ahead that he did not realize that she had been crying before. He felt like kicking himself.
        “Why the tears?” he then asked gently while wiping them away with his thumb.
        “I- I heard that-” Nimue’s form was once again racked with sobs. She buried her face in his tunic.
        “Oh, Legolas! Please don’t go!” she cried.
        Nimue’s plea pierced Legolas’ heart like an elven arrow and touched his soul like nothing else ever had.
        Legolas saw another salty tear escape from her eyes. He leaned down and kissed it off her cheek. Then he saw a tear had landed on her lower lip. He lifted a finger and slowly brushed it off. Legolas then tilted his head down, and began lowering his lips to hers.
        Suddenly Nimue broke away from him before any contact was made and ran up the garden steps and back inside. It was all so sudden and Legolas, still being in a daze from what just happened, didn’t react as quickly as he normally would. He just stood there, looking after her.
        
        
        That night Legolas was in his room preparing for the journey. After the departing of the Fellowship, Nimue was to send the message to his father of his decision, escorted by two of Lord Elrond’s finest warriors.
        
        Legolas’ sensitive ears picked up the light step of a elf-maiden coming down the corridor toward his room. There was a knock on his door.
        “Come in.”
        The maiden slowly opened the door. It was Nimue.
        She stood there at the doorway gazing at him.
        “Mar gwannathach?” she asked. (when will you leave?)
        “At dawn,” he answered, not looking up.
        “Legolas . .”
        Legolas stopped putting his arrows in his quiver and looked up at her.
        Her red hair was loose upon her shoulders and was wearing a long green gown. He gazed at this brave and skilled warrior, whom he was grateful to have by his side on the journey to Imladris. Now, on top of his admiration and care for her she was truly beautiful and one of a kind.
        That was it. He couldn’t control himself any longer. In two strides he was by her side and in the next second he was kissing her. Kissing her with a passion he had never felt before toward any Elven maiden.
        “Hir nin,” she said in a small voice when they parted slightly. “I don’t know what I would do if you didn’t come back . . I love you, Legolas.”
        Legolas felt such intense joy from her declaration that it almost scared him. “And I love you Nimue.”
        He lowered his mouth to hers again. Nimue could feel his heart racing against her chest, and Legolas could feel hers beating just as hard, if not harder.
        Nimue found his lips to be sweet and warm. Her hands traveled up his arms and entangled themselves in his hair.
        Then Legolas’ lips traveled along her jaw line and down her neck. Nimue sighed, fanning Legolas’ flame. Nimue tilted her head to the side to allow him more room while he was kissing her neck. Then Legolas moved back up and kissed her lips again.
        Nimue suddenly felt herself being lifted up and carried then suddenly let down on something soft. She opened her eyes to find that she was on Legolas’ bed. Legolas gingerly lowered himself on top of her and proceeded to kiss her again.
        Nimue wrapped her arms around his neck holding him to her. Then she felt his hands move to the lacings of her gown. She stiffened a little.
        “Wait!” Nimue cried.
        Legolas stopped and raised himself up.
        “What?” he asked.
        “We must get married first, Legolas.”
        Legolas looked at her for a moment. “You are right . .” he said. “It would be dishonorable of me to do so out of wedlock and it would be disgracing you. I would never want that to happen!”
        Nimue sat up and was about to leave when Legolas caught her arm.
        “But-” he said “could you at least sleep by my side for tonight . . please.”
        Nimue looked at the handsome Prince’s face, seeing the sorrowful countanance mixed with love, and feeling the own longing in her heart, she agreed.
        They fell asleep, fully clothed, and in each others arms. Both wearing a smile.
        The next morning Legolas awoke to find Nimue’s sleeping form huddled under his arm which was wrapped around her. He hugged her to him and kissed her forehead. Nimue opened her eyes. Legolas grinned, he thought it was cute how she slept with her eyes closed.
        “Nimue . .” he whispered, nipping her lips. “How long have you loved me?”
        “Ever since you saw me in the garden back at Mirkwood. But I did not realize it until I found out you were going on the journey with the Ringbearer.”
        “I love you so much!” he said, barely managing a whisper, for he wanted to shout it.
        Suddenly a servant knocked on the door.
        “It is time to depart, Prince Legolas.”
        “Hannaid. Blast it! I’m late!”
        Legolas turned his face back to Nimue’s whose eyes traveled over his features as if she was trying to memorize every line, every curve. Legolas found himself doing the same as he gazed back at Nimue.
        “Don’t you have to get ready?” Nimue said after a moment.
        “What? . . Oh! Right!” Legolas forced himself to break eye-contact and leap out of bed to pull his things together.
        “Tolo,” he beckoned to Nimue once he was ready, “walk with me to the front gate.” (come)
        
        At the front gate stood Elrond, Bilbo and the rest of the company.
        “Lord Aragorn,” Nimue said to the ranger, with a cursty. “I do not believe we have been introduced before. I am Nimue Elenath, Swordmistress of Mirkwood, daugher of Eohric, former Swordmaster of Mirkwood.”
        “I am honored to meet you, Nimue,” Aragorn said taking her hand and bowing over it. Then with a grin he turned to Legolas, “I take it she came with you.”
        “Yes.” Legolas replied. Then he read the knowing expression on Aragorn’s face and grinned.
        
        Soon Lord Elrond bid them on their way with his blessing. Before Legolas followed the rest of the group who walked toward the gate, he took Nimue in his arms and kissed her hard. He prayed that this would not be the last time. Nimue made the same prayer. Legolas cradled her face in his hands and gazed at her. Nimue could see the tears forming in his eyes.
        “I will return to you, gweston!” Then with one last kiss he said “navaer.” (I swear; farewell)
        Nimue willed herself to remain strong and not let the tears fall that pricked her eyes as she watched the company go.
        “Be cautious, meleth nin,” Nimue whispered.
        
        
*REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEWWWW!*


Chapter 11 - Reunited

Reunited
        Legolas’ was now back in the realm of Mirkwood, nearing the elf city.
        He could hardly contain his eagerness to see his father and Nimue again.
        Once he reached the outskirts he saw a throng of elves waiting to greet him. Love for his home and people rose inside him and he leapt off his horse and greeted the people.
        He did not want to seem rude but, while he was being welcomed home he couldn’t stop rising himself to his toes in order to see over all the golden heads, in hopes of catching a glimpse of a red one.
        When he lowered himself he saw his father standing infront of him. A cry of joy escaped Legolas’ lips and he embraced his father with tears threatening his eye lids.
        “I am so proud of you son!”
        “Hannaid, Ada. I missed you so!” (Thankyou, father)
        Suddenly Thranduil looked up into the branches of the trees overhead. “There appears to be someone else eager to see you.”
        Legolas looked up to see Nimue sitting in the lower limbs of a tree directly above.
        “Nimue, meleth nin!”
        With one leap Legolas’ hands were on the branch and he hauled himself up.
        Before Nimue could say “welcome home, hir nin” his lips covered hers.
        When they parted Legolas held Nimue close.
        “You occupied my mind every step of the quest, Nimue! No matter what was going on, you were always in my thoughts one way or the other.”
        “Oh, Legolas!” Nimue cried with happiness wrapping her arms around Legolas’ neck.
        Legolas gently kissed her again, then whispered against her lips, “I love you.”
        “I love you too, Legolas Thranduillion.”
        Legolas gathered Nimue in his arms and jumped with her to the ground.
        He wanted to make sure the whole elf population could hear what he had to say next.
        “Marry me, Nimue Elenath, daughter of Eohric!”
        Nimue looked at him for a long moment. Legolas felt his heart begin to sink. Suddenly a smile spread across Nimue’s face.
        “Yes!” she answered then kissing him so hard Legolas almost lost his balance.
        Thranduil, to Legolas’ relief, blessed the match and the whole of Mirkwood rejoiced.
        King Aragorn and Queen Arwen attended the ceremony, much to the delight of Legolas and Nimue.
       
  That night as Prince Legolas and Princess Nimue lay together Legolas whispered into his wife’s hair.
        “Did you ever in your wildest dreams ever think of this situation?”
        Nimue looked into her husband’s eyes and he saw a blush creep up into her face.
        “Yes . .” she answered quietly.
        Legolas laughed and pulling the covers over their heads they proceeded with . . . honeymoon business.



THE END!!!!!
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Printed from Open Scrolls Archive (https://www.openscrolls.net) on Sat Nov 14, 2026 8:21 pm