Far Beyond Mirkwood, Chapter 28
|Authors:||Mary A and Malinornë|
|Warnings:||Adult sexual content, lots of nudity, and some very naughty elves|
|Disclaimer:||This is a work of amateur fanfiction of the parody type and is meant solely for entertainment purposes, no profit is made.|
|Chapter summary:||Mary and Mal both celebrate the coronation without Thranduil. Love is in the air, or is it?|
While I half-heartedly searched for Thranduil all I could hear were faint sounds from the coronation party off in the distance behind me. Then a familiar voice spoke into my ear.
It was Feredir and I was not surprised. Thaladir must have sent him to find me. They both probably thought I was going to make some mischief. I wished the surly wood elf would just go away and leave me alone, but if he was under orders to follow me, then I had no hope of escaping him.
In a way, the seneschal had a right to feel unsure about me. There was always the chance I would commit some unforgiveable act of unseemliness if I was left too long unattended, and if I felt bored. After admitting that to myself, it made me feel sad that, as far as Feredir was concerned, I was mistrusted by an elf that did not even know me.
“What do you want?” I asked, without turning around.
I felt him lean even closer to me, so close that I felt his breath brush across my cheek.
“Will you join me in my flet tonight?”
At that moment, I was feeling too belligerent to carefully process his words. By the time I turned to face him, the message had sunk in and I remembered instantly that I was dealing with an elf. Judging by his unsmiling, almost hostile, expression, his surprising invitation might not mean the same thing to him that it implied to me.
“Were you assigned the duty of babysitting Thranduil’s pet?” I asked, with emphasis on the word ‘pet’. “Or,” I continued, before I had to hear another famous elfy non-answer, “were you planning on tying me to the trunk of some tree and leaving me there alone for the night?”
For a sharp, bittersweet moment, I missed having Anborn for my bodyguard. Thaladir would not have sent this uncongenial wood elf to be my keeper, if my ranger had been there.
“Perhaps I desire your company,” Feredir said. His voice was even softer than before, as if he was talking more to himself than to me, and with a touch of wariness. He was eyeing me carefully and yet he still seemed to be unsure if he really wanted to be near me, which I found intriguing.
Something brilliant flickered in his curious gaze as he spoke, and it caught me off-guard. Under the trees, where we stood, the light from the moon and stars was too effectively blocked to make his eyes suddenly glitter like that. I looked around and wondered if someone was near to us with a lantern, maybe Thranduil. A silly thought. The king did not need artificial light in the dark.
“Why would you desire my company?” I challenged Feredir. “It is obvious that you can barely tolerate me.” If I had not learned anything else about elves, at least I knew that speaking bluntly was the best way to get something like a straight answer. I saw that tiny flash in his eyes again, and I whirled around, certain that I would see someone right behind me carrying a torch or a candle, but there was no one there.
“Let us walk,” he said. Instead of holding out his elbow, he grasped my hand. It was such a friendly gesture that it disarmed me. From the corner of my eye, I caught a tiny flicker from his eyes again, but it was too faint to comment on, and I was too busy enjoying myself holding hands with an elf.
Feredir’s fingers felt smooth, cool, and dry as they fitted themselves between mine. I liked the way they felt, and the fact he was willing to touch me made something melt inside of me. I smiled up at him, and this time there was such a sparkling flash in his eyes that I cried out, “What is that?”
Again, I looked behind me for that mysterious source of light. I tried to explain to Feredir what I had seen, but he declared that he was mystified as well. With a gentle tug, he led me along a path through the woods until we reached a clearing made by an almost perfect circle of trees and here we were both faintly lit by the receding moon and dimming stars. Dawn was not far off. He was silent throughout, until we stood in the center of the grassy meadow-like area.
“Lady Mary, you did enjoy my singing,” he said. Not shyly, as if expecting a compliment, but more like he was already sure that I had, and wanted me to admit it to him. He glared at me fiercely as he waited for my answer. I was bewildered enough to just nod, while I waited to hear the next crazy thing he was going to say, or do. I was not afraid of him.
By now, I was pretty sure that Thranduil was not going to come and save me from this elf, and I had only briefly wondered why. The king always made it clear when I was required to share myself with men or elves. Tonight was different. I was on my own.
“I enjoyed your last song very much,” I said. “How could you tell?”
For the first time in my memory, Feredir smiled at me, a strangely angry smile. We were still holding hands, and he pulled me close to him. My heart began to beat a bit faster. Was he going to bite me or kiss me? Now that I was expecting it, the sudden flare of light in his eyes did not shock me, or make me turn around to look behind me. Instead, I stood on tiptoe in order to get closer.
“It’s me!” I dropped his hand and grabbed both of his shoulders to tug his face closer to me. “I see myself in your eyes, a little teeny me, and I am all shiny!”
All of Thaladir’s warnings to me, when I first came to dwell in the caves of Mirkwood, about dressing in layers to prevent inciting the passions of the wood elves, came flooding back into my mind. I was ‘glowing’ and that meant that I was the flame and Feredir was the moth, a helplessly smitten moth. He could not help himself, the poor elf.
“You don’t really want to be with me,” I said. “You don’t even like me, remember?”
Feredir looked even angrier, but he grabbed my shoulders and bent forward in the familiar motion of an elf, or man, about to deliver a kiss. I brought both of my hands up to push against his chest, as if my weak little arms could restrain him, but at least he paused long enough for me to try to make him see reason.
“I think it is only fair to tell you that you aren’t thinking clearly,” I told him. “I don’t think…” And I would have said more, except that he let go of my shoulders and grabbed my face, and covered up my mouth with his, before I could say another word. He was as quick as Thranduil in that respect, but his lips were not nearly as forceful. In fact, his kiss was achingly tender, and I was just starting to enjoy it when he stopped.
“It is true,” he gasped out.
“What is true?” I asked, and I would have said more but there was Feredir’s mouth again, on mine. He let go of my face and wrapped his arms around me to press our bodies together. As before, just when I was beginning to like it, he broke the kiss.
“You cannot tell me what I want or do not want,” he declared vehemently. “Come with me, now.” Without waiting for me to respond, he lifted me up and carried me toward the trees.
Well, his manners had certainly not improved.
“Where are you taking me?” I asked, stupidly, since Feredir had already invited me to his flet, but his kisses had rattled my brains more than I would have suspected they could. He must have had the same idea, because he did not bother to answer me.
“You can’t steal me,” I informed him. “I can just summon Thranduil.” To demonstrate, I waved my hand near my forehead to make ‘brainwave’ motions. Feredir actually sneered at me in response.
“He would not come,” he said smugly.
“Why not?” By then, we had reached the trees and Feredir had set me down on my feet. “I belong to him, you know, and he is a king. They don’t like to share.”
“He knows that you are with me tonight,” Feredir said. Then he bent forward, as if he was bowing to me, which surprised me enough to stand there staring at him, instead of running away. The next thing I knew, I was hanging over his shoulder, and he was climbing one of the trees.
Oh, this wood elf was quick, and sneaky, and very strong. I believe that I would have been afraid, but I was more flattered than fearful. Even if the silly elf could not help himself, I knew that he would not have gotten two steps away from where he had first found me if Thranduil had wanted to stop him.
After all of this time with my possessive king, I knew that even if I begged him not to interfere, Thranduil would have taken such a decision out of my hands and swiftly put an end to this night. I could not help but think Feredir’s attentions to me were being allowed in an effort to make up for what I had been forced to do with Faramir. In his elf-kingly way, the king was rewarding me.
My night with Legolas in Eryn Mithren had been magically romantic to such an extent that I doubted afterwards it had taken place at all. It was easy enough to recollect how it began with the walk to see the night orchids, but in spite of the level of earlier detail my memories of much of what happened later are blurred in a dreamy mist.
I know that we talked a lot before the first kiss. After that, no hesitations remained. We touched and caressed, undressed and lay together on the grass. We made love, my new king and I. I felt not the dew’s wetness, nor the hardness of the ground. He was all there was, gently smiling, then grinning open-mouthed with rapture as he penetrated me. I knew only the stars in his eyes, the coolness of his hands on my burning skin. His laughter, mine, our joy shared.
And then, more laughter. He was irresistibly cute with the lopsided leaf-crown hanging over one ear and his hair ruffled – the disorder the work of my enthusiastic hands. I kissed him on the nose and ran away on an impulse, giggling. He followed close behind, kissing and touching me as we ran, until I stopped, letting myself be caught in his arms.
We made love again, against a grey-barked ash that felt surprisingly smooth against my back.
“See?” he replied. “This night, the trees want you as much as I do.”
The river was nearby, its dark waters cooling my body but not my heart as we swam together. White water lilies gleamed in the rosy daybreak and Legolas dived among them, coming up with the look of a dripping sea deity rather than a king of wood-elves. He fastened a flower in my hair, not an easy feat considering its heaviness and the slick wetness of the thick stalk, but he managed. I felt pretty like a princess, my adornment in stark contrast with my ‘prince’s’ now rather mangled-looking leaf-crown.
“I have ruined it,” I said as I touched the flowers’ hanging heads. Even those that looked fresh enough fell back limply against Legolas’ hair as soon as I removed my fingers.
“Not at all,” he replied, fingering a wilted bluebell that hung down over his ear, but then added, “Miriel will make me a new leaf-crown, today and as often as I will need one.”
“It’s still a shame to see it in this state...”
Legolas took off the wreath and examined it with a serious expression that would have fooled me if it hadn’t been such a perfect copy of a certain seneschal. “Indeed, my lady,” he said gravely and then delivered his verdict: “The item at hand appears somewhat bereft of its value as adornment of the head and would more properly serve as a gift to the waters that assisted in causing its ruin.”
I giggled, seeing the playful glint in his eyes. “You’re really good at that,” I told him.
“I’ve had centuries to practice. Not that I should be making fun of my father’s old friend – I do love him, deeply.”
“I know and so does he.”
“That’s true. Now, let’s see how far this will fly!” He flung the leaf-crown into the air where it soared rather majestically for a few seconds before making a breakneck dive and landing in the water with an undignified splash.
“Not quite the whole way to Pelargir,” I remarked with a smile.
“Who knows the ways of the great waters? It may end up in a fisherman’s net this very morning, or it may follow the river’s course further than I ever have and then continue onwards, across the ocean...”
“It’s a beautiful thought,” I said and gave a shiver. “I’m sorry to interrupt this moment, but I think it’s time for me to get out of the water now.”
“But of course, I should have noticed.”
I went ashore with Legolas following close behind.
“Wait here while I fetch our clothes,” he said when we reached the bank. “Nobody will disturb you.” He squeezed my hand, kissed it and then dashed off.
I admired his lean backside the short moment it took for him to disappear among the trees. Then I looked for shelter, mostly because of the breeze that felt chilly against wet skin. No elf would be shocked to find a naked person near water – rather they would laugh at the absurdity of swimming with clothes on. Or make that almost no elf. Thaladir’s attempts at making Mary cover herself when she bathed in the forest river in Mirkwood were rather memorable. The mere thought of him chasing her in the water with a sheet still made me chuckle.
Only moments after I had found a convenient place to sit I heard the pebbles near the water clatter with the rhythm of someone walking. Could it be that Legolas was back so soon? I peeked around the tree-trunk that protected me from the sea breeze and saw not him, but Haldir – wearing nothing.
The elf climbed up on a rock and then he dived, cleaving the water elegantly and without causing as much as a ripple. Then he was gone entirely, until a dark shadow became visible as he swam stealthily under water, just beneath the surface. I lost track of him among the lily-pads, the many shadows and reflections in the water tricking my sight. My astonishment when his head finally emerged was mirrored by an equally surprised mother duck, who gave the intruder a quacking tell-off before shooing her young in a safe direction.
With a few lazy strokes Haldir swam back towards the beach. I held my breath as I watched him rise to his feet in the waist-deep water. A pang of guilt hit me briefly – for admiring another while technically being in Legolas’ charming company – but was quickly quenched by the strong sense of desire, even greed, I felt as I allowed my eyes to roam freely.
I had seen Haldir undressed before, of course, but it was incredibly exciting to have caught the captain unawares and to be able to watch without being seen. I should have said something to alert him of my presence, for the sake of common courtesy. As it was, I was too enamoured of my doubly forbidden pleasure to risk ruining the moment by calling out even a simple greeting.
The elf dressed without haste, after giving himself a perfunctory wipe with his cloak. I would have done it for him, and so much better – with my tongue if need be! Instead, I was forced only to watch the drops of water glistening deliciously on his chest and then painting irregular patterns on his tunic when he put on the garment without my interference. He pulled on his leggings with an elegance and ease that would have made any human jealous. Haldir looked dignified even with his behind pointing towards the sky as he put on his boots.
“Thank you for the company,” he suddenly said in my direction, making me jump.
“I... I’m sorry,” I mumbled. “I didn’t... think.”
“It appears not,” he replied as a few strides closed the distance between us. ”It would disappoint me to find you holding my scouting skills in such a low esteem as to think I would not take note of a lady as wondrously dressed as yourself.” His smirk was formidable.
I blushed, at a loss for words, fighting the silly impulse to cover myself with my hands.
“Worry not, the pleasure was just as much mine,” he added gently. “I have enjoyed my morning dip much more than I would without an audience.” He cast a glance over my shoulder, bowed too deep for it to be seriously meant, and was gone moments before Legolas appeared in the same spot he had been looking.
Legolas dashed to my side and we shared a kiss the sweetness of which surpassed all others. The temptation to let it lead to more was strong for both of us, but he insisted that as a ruler of his people he had not the same right to his time as before the coronation and thus could not follow his every impulse, however regrettable that may be. My initial disappointment was soon forgotten when Legolas showed me how much fun could be had in the simple process of getting dressed.
My thoughts were in turmoil as we walked back to the settlement holding hands. Not because of Haldir – we had long shared the occasional glimpse of desire; it was simple and not unnerving in the least.
But, what was I to think about Legolas, my newfound sweetheart, whose fingers entwined with mine made me almost dizzy with joy? Could it be that he had truly stolen my heart? Was this night all I would have of him? Did I want it to be like that? Did he? Could I stay in Eryn Mithren, at least for a while? And what if Thranduil’s plan was actually to leave me here with Legolas forever?
I realized that the last thought left me surprisingly calm. Could it really be that I would accept so easily if the Elvenking travelled on with Mary, but left me behind with his son?
I don’t know, but one thing was certain. I was in love.
Feredir’s flet was no more luxurious than any other wood elf flet I had seen, which was not at all. A simple platform with some blankets folded in one corner, and a movable wind screen to block any rain. I was going to have a long talk with Thranduil about what I would like to have as a reward in the future. A bed, at least, would have been nice.
“Why does Thranduil know I am here?” I asked, after Feredir set me down near the blanket pile. Inside of the tree, it was all deep shadows, even though the sky outside had begun to lighten a bit. He began to sit down next to me, but I jumped up to stand before he could kiss me again. “Was he the one who sent you to find me? Are you sure this is what he wanted you to do?”
“I asked him,” Feredir said, after taking my hand to draw me down to sit next to him. I found his touch strangely irresistible, and I sat down with a sigh. He continued. “Aran Thranduil was as pleased with my singing tonight as you were.”
“Yes, of course, you did say something like that already,” I answered, not yet fully understanding what his singing had to do with me. “You never did tell me how you knew I liked it so much.”
“When you are happy,” Feredir said, his features were barely visible in the gloom, “your radiance is blue and silvery.” His fair-skinned hands were like tiny ghosts moving over and around me, but not touching. I believe he was defining the edge of the light he saw there. “When you are enjoying yourself, it turns golden, like the heart of a flame.”
His fingers found my face, where they stayed still. I thought he might kiss me again, but he just sat there. Those cool fingers moved slowly over my face, as if he were a blind man. Ironically, if I was ‘glowing’, then he could see me clearly in the murky shadows.
“What are we going to do now?” I asked, but it came out as a whisper, because I was feeling breathless all of a sudden.
During the following, even longer period of silence, it occurred to me that the wood elf might be feeling something that I should have been feeling, except I did not. Despite his arrogance and ferocious blustering, he just might be afraid of me, or maybe just cautious about where to begin.
“Have you ever been alone with a mortal woman like this before?” I asked. Feredir’s hands went still again. I had apparently ended up with the only elf in Middle earth that could not touch and talk at the same time.
“Besides you and the Lady Malinorne,” he said, “I have never met one.”
“Right after the first time you kissed me, you said, ‘It was true.’ What did that mean?” Experimentally, I put my hands over his, and drew them down to my neck and then over my shoulders. Then I took my hands away and waited for him to reply.
“Your lips tasted as warm as their luminance suggests,” he said. “It was… most remarkable.”
“What does that mean?” Again, I directed his fingers, this time pulling them down my arms and then back up again. On cue, when I removed my hands from his, he spoke.
“It felt as if I had kissed lightning, but was not burned.”
“That sounds painful,” I said. I was not sure if I should feel complimented or dangerous. This time, I put his hands directly on my breasts, and waited to see what would happen. There was a very long pause. I had to try very hard not to giggle.
“It was intoxicating,” he finally answered, and then he started moving his fingers there in much the same way he had done on my face, but it was a lot more interesting.
“Do you know what I think, Feredir?” I pulled his hands away from my breasts, stood up, and pulled my dress off. “I think you talk too much.”
Within seconds, I was gasping with pleasure, and still standing upright. For the first time since I had met elves, I actually had one on his knees before me, tasting me, and making me burn. There was no more talking after that.
By the time the sun fully rose, I was feeling more than well-rewarded. Lying next to Feredir, with a soft blanket over us, I felt blissfully smug, and ready for a long nap. I cuddled up to him and wrapped one arm over his chest. I knew he would not sleep at all and I asked him not to leave me alone.
With a contented sigh, I was ready to drift off into what I anticipated would be happy dreams, when I was startled to alertness by a familiar voice calling our names.
“Lady Mary! Feredir!”
Very familiar. I groaned in true pain at the thought of having to rise now and get dressed.
Feredir, the very model of a dutiful soldier, had shot up to his feet. I jumped out of the blanket to grab his leg in order to keep him from leaving the flet. “Don’t go down there,” I whispered. “Stay here, and don’t move, or say anything. If he doesn’t know where your flet is, maybe he will give up and go back to harass Thranduil and then I can get my nap.”
The calling voice drew closer to the tree. Through its leaves, we could see the owner of the voice as he approached directly below us. Feredir did not bother to whisper.
“We are here, Lord Thaladir!” he called down. “We will return to the settlement soon.”
“See that you do,” the seneschal said firmly, but he seemed satisfied, turned around, and left us alone.
“Traitor,” I hissed at Feredir. “What color am I now?” I asked, with a sneer. I hoped it was an ugly color, because he would be the one to suffer from having to see it, not me.
“Bright green,” Feredir answered, and then he smiled. “It is almost the same color as when you tell a lie, but less yellow.”
I got dizzy trying to recall every single lie I had ever told, not just to an elf, but in the presence of elves. With a rare show of compassion, Feredir helped me dress and then carried me down from the flet. Our time alone had been quite an educational experience! For both of us.
Back in the elven settlement, Legolas was called away by duty before I had mustered the courage to make even discreet inquiries about his plans for the day, to say nothing of his thoughts about the two of us. It was not important; I was sure that I could read the same signs of love in his eyes as I tried to show him through mine. Or, perhaps not exactly the same, but then elves don’t seem to fall in love the same way humans do. Anyhow it was enough for me, for a start. We parted with a friendly hug and an almost seemly kiss – anything else would have been inappropriate considering our audience of one: Thaladir.
Legolas left me with the seneschal and I wistfully followed him with my gaze as he was absorbed into a group of elves and then disappeared with them in the direction of the coast road. Had I been alone I would have followed him, or tried to. Watching him leave was pure agony. And then he turned around. He turned and looked at me over his right shoulder, smiling. It was over in a moment but what a moment! I felt blood rush to my cheeks and giddiness bubble up inside me. Without the seneschal’s sobering presence beside me I would have melted into a happy, love-struck puddle.
“My lady,” said Thaladir, “apparently I need not inquire how you fare, nor whether the past night was to your satisfaction.”
“It was wonderful! I am so happy! Thaladir, you could never imagine how wonderful Legolas is!”
The seneschal cleared his throat. “It is certainly true, my lady, that I do not know him in the precise manner you do. Allow me, however, to remind you of my long-time connections with the royal family, because of which I have naturally been acquainted with His Majesty King Legolas of Eryn Mithren since the fortunate day of his birth.” Apparently sensing that such a reply did not work on me, he added, “If, however, you by ‘wonderful’ meant to praise His Majesty King Legolas’ fine character and impeccable courtesy, then I do certainly agree with such a judgment.”
“He is so chivalrous,” I said, “so generous, so kind...”
“Ahem. I regret to inform you, my lady, that His Majesty King Thranduil will require my attention shortly, wherefore I however unfortunately cannot carry on this conversation to its conclusion, regardless how pleasant the topic may be. Furthermore, allow me to remind you that should you wish to break your fast, it would be advisable to do so forthwith.”
“Thanks for reminding me, Your Excellency,” I said and made a neat curtsy. I needed desperately to talk about Legolas with someone who would understand me better. “Do you know where Mary is? In her guest room?”
“Indeed, Lady Mary is currently sleeping, an activity that ought to be interrupted, lest her bodily functioning takes to irregular patterns of feeding and resting.”
“Thank you. I’ll bring her breakfast then and wake her up.”
Mary was not at all happy to see me. At first she pretended to be asleep. Her snores were the product of a skilled actress and would have fooled me if not for the suspicious timing – they did not begin until I started climbing the ladder leading to her room. As I popped my head through the entrance hole in the flet, calling a spirited greeting, she squinted at me but remained silent, as if she could will me to disappear as long as she said nothing. When I stayed put, smiling, she reluctantly sat up – not an easy feat, it seemed, from the way she stretched her limbs this way and that, loudly giving words to her discomfort – and then said: “Shouldn’t you be with Legolas?”
That was all the cue I needed to begin telling her everything, but mostly how fabulous, marvellous and wonderful ‘my’ young king was. “I love him!” I finished my recount, beaming with happiness.
“Where’s my coffee?” Mary asked, still squinting. Apparently, she hadn’t heard a word of what I said, not that I minded. I would happily tell her again and again of my heart’s beloved.
“There’s tea,” I said and handed her a cleverly crafted bark bowl with a tight-fitting wooden lid.
She opened it quicker than her poor fatigued fingers should have been able to manage and gulped down the steaming, aromatic contents. An expression of ease spread over her face and soon she looked at me with her usual, alert gaze.
“Now tell me again about this ‘love’ of yours,” she said.
I repeated what I had already said, in between sips of tea and bites of honeyed bread. Mary listened intently as we ate.
“I think Thranduil meant it to happen,” I added. “He didn’t want to command me to marry his son, but knew what would happen if we met like this. I know it now; this must be the reason he wanted me to come to Mirkwood from the start!”
“You’ve spent a heavenly night with a great guy, that much I gather,” she replied. “Going from there to seeing yourself as the coming Queen of Eryn Mithren is a bit sudden, don’t you think?”
“Well, perhaps not queen, not yet...” She was right, such a hurried wedding would not be proper. “I could be meant to remain with Legolas for now, for a start.”
“And give up our king? Thranduil would be all mine as soon as we travel on towards Minas Tirith?” A moment’s greedy delight in her eyes betrayed her spontaneous joy at the thought, but she was smarter than that. “You have been hopelessly in love with Thranduil since you first met him, Mal. I’m not going to believe you’re so keen on losing him. Your emotions are playing a trick on you.”
“Now you sound like Thaladir.”
“The old grouch may be a bore at times but he never was dim-witted. Perhaps you should discuss this with him.”
“I already have,” I replied. “He didn’t discourage me.”
“Because he was too deeply in shock, I’d say.”
“He was busy,” I admitted.
“Do nothing drastic,” she advised me. “Try to keep cool, see what happens. Hopefully by the end of the day you’ll see that you and Legolas had a wonderful night and that’s all there was to it. Nothing wrong with that.”
From the way she smiled, I guessed her company for the night had been equally satisfying, not that Thranduil had ever given reason for complaints in that area. “What about you,” I asked, “Have you been having a pleasant time as well?”
“You bet! Our king has a knack of giving interesting rewards.”
Her stress on the word ‘our’ left little doubts to what she thought about my feelings for Legolas. I would prove her wrong! The next time I got a chance to be alone with Legolas we would express our love for one another and all would know this is how things were meant to be. Until then, I would try to remain calm. The talk with Mary had provided the outlet I needed to release the excess of bubbling joy that had threatened to burst from me. I would stay calm. For now.
Status of daily schedule: Questionable
Remarks: Regrettably, His Majesty King Thranduil’s plans have met with most misfortunate complications apparently ensuing from the unpredictability of the mortal mind in combination with perchance a fraction of recklessness on His Majesty’s part, for which he cannot be blamed, considering the lack of research in the aforementioned area. Under the circumstances it is undoubtedly for the best that His Majesty King Legolas departed for Pelargir this noon upon receiving news of the soon to be expected arrival of a friend, who will hopefully provide the distraction needed to separate him from Lady Malinorne before the affair grows further out of proportion. Long live Eryn Lasgalen and Eryn Mithren!
To be continued...
Chapter posted: August 12, 2009
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"Long live Thranduil, great Elf-king of Greenwood!"