On Midsummers Eve of her twelfth year she placed an oak
leaf under her pillow and laid her head upon it; and when she
awokethough she could not remember her future husbands
faceshe was smiling.
She takes her broadsword from its scabbard, lifts the blade and
holds it before her eyes and runs her palm along its length, transported
to some distant battlefield; then she raises it above her head,
spins, and advancesone step, twocutting to right and
leftexecuting each move cleanly, with speed and graceand
Legolas wonders why men claim that a womans honour lies
between her legs.
He aims for the neck, where he knows their armour is weak, but
the Uruk Hai does not fall; and when the sudden fire tears down
the Deeping Wall he thinks of her, and how he has failed her.
There is chaos all around themAragorn urges Theoden King
to send the women away; Legolas toils on alone, building the barricade
that might just give her time to escape.
The victory is hard won, the casualties severeshe breaks
off from tending the wounded to fetch him a basin of water and,
encouraged, he washes the battlegrime from his hands and face.
Game over? he asks, innocently, setting down his final
tankardthen he meets her eye and his face dimples mischievously.
A feeling of unease, of imminent danger, comes over him andas
always when troubledhe goes outside to seek comfort in nature
(though there are no trees in Edoras), and the big wind fills
his lungs and revives his spiritbut she appears beside
him, and takes his breath away.
His nameEstelmeans hope, but what
he has to give can never be for her alone; the elf has no great
destiny before him, but would give her all if she would
He hears the cry of anguishEowyn, Eowyn, how come
you here?and he runs to where Eomer rocks her lifeless
body in his arms, and his hope fails.
She has lain so many days in the House of Healingtonight
he brings a flower and leaves it at her bedside.
He rushes in, anxious to see herPrince Legolas,
says Faramir, smiling, Lady Eowyn has just made me the happiest
man in Middle Earth.
He sees Eomer lead her down the aisle, watches Faramir take her
hand, hearsas though from a great distanceAragorn
pronounce the words; petals rain down on them; bells peal; and,
as he wishes he had spoken, he hears the gulls cry.
The elf is staring again, thinks Eowyn; and, suddenly feeling
the burden of humanity, she turns away.
He takes his guilty secret from the night stand and, marvelling
at the skill of the artist who captured her likeness, lies back
with his lady.
Since the day she fell in love she has avoided him, but he is
building her a garden, and today she has no choice but to speakshe
walks into the courtyard and he is standing, tall and slender,
beneath a canopy of blossom.
Now Legolas must choose a lady, whispers Elladan,
and Eowyn thinks her heart will breakbut then he comes to
her, and shyly holds out his hand, and she takes it, and escapes
her cage forever.
She has no idea why people make such a fuss until her first time
with him: when he enters her, and begins to thrust, she thinks
she understands, and she wants it to last forever; then his strokes
grow harder, and she knows that there is more, and she reaches
for itreaches for himand suddenly
hears her own voice, crying out in gratitude.
Spilling himself deep inside her, he buries his face in the curve
of her shoulder: he is home.
A pretty elleth dances in the firelight and Eowyn cannot help
but glance at Legolasbut his eyes are fixed on her,
and he smiles, and whispers, You look like a flower, melmenya.
Once an elf gives his heart, says Legolas, softly,
he is faithful for eternity.
He raises her foot, and gently sucks her toe, and feels the blood
rush to his own core.
#50 - Wood
He pulls her close, and she smiles, murmuring, My wood elf
She needs to sleep, he does notbut tonight, as every night,
he will lie with her, cradling her in his arms.
He crouches before her, smilingshe sees the taut curve of
his thigh, and her body quickens, remembering the feel of him
Wait, melmenya, he cries, springing over the crooked
fence; andwith a smile more like a hobbits than an
elfshe plucks a rosy apple, and hands it to her, with
He, thinks Eowyn, watching Legolas settle on the ground, is never
troubled by the crawling, flying, stinging things that plague
the rest of usjust as eight long spider legs ripple over
her shoulder, and she throws up her arms and dances wildly, to
the sound of elven laughter.
The merchant called it coffee; Eowyn, lying open-eyed,
watching her elf pass the night in reverie, calls it disgusting.
His knives sing as he draws them, the blades flashand Eowyn,
watching him practice, melts.
Since the Elvenlords lady came to live in the Forest,
says one of the men, the leaves do not fall.
She shiversfor winter draws near, and elves do not light
fires for warmth, (only for light and cheer)but Legolas
brings her a lambswool mantle, and warms her in his arms.
The chill air makes her eyes bright and her nose pinkshe
blows on her fingers and, laughing, Legolas scoops her into his
He hides behind a tree; she searchesLegolas?;
he leaps out, throws, and learns several human words that are
new to him.
He runs ahead, she trudges behind: Will it ever thaw?
They quarrelled over a triflehe said words he now regretshe
hurries to where he knows she will have taken refuge, grooming
her beloved horses.
Lembas is a hallowed thing, the preserve of ellith and, in ancient
times, the gift of Queensand she has tried to learn, but
she cannot make it.
He is quick in battle, slow in the Council Chamberwhen he
hesitates, carefully weighing the reasons for and against, her
brisk human mind sometimes takes him by surprise.
Men held her in check with talk of duty; her elf, though he fears
for her safety no less than they, understands her need to act.
She blunders along, her clothes sticking, cold and clammy, the
damp cloth tearing, the leather chafing, water trickling down
her scalp and dripping from her nose; beside her, Legolas runs
with effortless grace, smiling at the rain.
When he tells her his agetwo thousand, nine hundred and
thirty seven yearstheir life together seems a sad jest;
but he says, I am still your Legolas, and, though
her tears flow, her heart knows it to be true.
Her mother lies at Edoras, beside her father, with their ancestors;
his mother lies in Mirkwood, alone amongst the living.
Tacitly, they have agreed never to mention her mortality; butsince
it is seldom far from their thoughtsit is seldom absent
from their conversations.
If he allows himself to imagine ither eyes closing, her
spirit departing, her empty body growing coldhe feels his
own life ebb within him and he knows, then, what it will be like
The healer plunges the mithril tube into her breast and administers
his decoction, and Legolas wonders how a second poison can possibly
revive her; but he holds her close, and prays, and suddenlyLEGOLAS!she
She has been granted immortality; he wonders whether she will
be permitted to sail West with him.
Melmenya! he cries and, grasping her waist, he lifts
her high, and whirls her round, and she stretches out her arms,
like birdís wings, laughing.
He dashes through the trees, bow in hand, his elven senses strainingshe
has wandered, and there are orcs nearbyand he almost weeps
when he hears a twig snap beneath two little feet.
They ride through the Foresttwo strangers in green and brown.
Her scream almost stops his heart but he runs to her side and,
with elven hands and voice, charms the creature that humans seem
instinctively to fear.
Reverently, they lay him in his earthen bed, scatter his body
with flowers, and cover him over; then Legolas wraps his arm about
her shoulders and, weeping softly, they walk away.
Take my hand, he says, I can see the way.