Undisciplined Hearts

Legolas : Legolas sighed softly as she took her place in the column again. He followed shortly after a brief, tense silence between those left behind her. He noted with some curiosity the expression Eldarion held, thinking it over as he rode by Gimli again, ignoring the dwarf's pestering. What could the prince be angry about? That Alatáriël could have been killed? That he had to stay and wait while Legolas went after her? Did the young human fault him in a way? He thought of this and other things, but none too seriously as they rode on, making camp finally near the edge of the Firien Wood. He kept himself from reading too deeply into the actions of any one person in order to keep a light mood and that he might rest easier that night. As everyone unpacked their horses of the things they would need in the night, or gathered dead-fall for fires, Legolas allowed himself to wander to the edge of the small forest. Ever was he drawn to green, growing things. The woods made him feel peaceful, at home. Gimli stayed behind to share accounts of comings and goings of the various places this or that one frequented... most often pubs or the like. Legolas chuckled to himself as he walked the edge of the forest, still within sight of the group. The last thing he wanted was another small upset. He did not bother looking when he heard the familiar human footsteps approaching... he knew already who it was. "Hello, Prince Eldarion."



Alatáriël: The prince was human; therefore he’d not yet reached the stage in which he thought things through before he spoke. A trait his father desperately wished him to learn on this journey. Drawing abreast with the elf, he asked quietly, “Legolas, how fares Lady Alatáriël this eve? I would have inquired, but she has not left Lady Eowyn’s tent since we stopped. I trust she was uninjured earlier?” Eldarion knew the answer to this as well as Legolas did, but the prince was still a tad bit irked that he’d been so slapped down in riding to the lady’s rescue. “And why did you intercede this afternoon? I realize I have not your years or experience, but I am skilled and capable, Legolas. Alatáriël would have been quite safe in my hands. Besides, her safety is one of my responsibilities. My father did name me leader of this little cadre.”



Legolas : The far-older prince only smiled pleasantly to Eldarion, tension only showing in the tightness at the corners of his eyes. His posture remained relaxed, which he was sure irritated the young man even more. "I have no doubt in your skill with a sword or bow, Eldarion. I trained you myself in the latter, and I regard you as a fine warrior." His tone changed from conversational to lower, hinting a little irritation on his own part. "Yet it is your hands, as skilled as they are, that I fear the lady may be at greatest risk." His smile vanished in a stern look of quiet admonition, his eyes showing the experience and wisdom far beyond the understanding of most, "Your games are suited well enough for courts and ladies who fancy a tryst with one so handsome and noble as you. They care for the now, the here and not forever. Play not with the heart of one who could not afford such a careless endeavor, who is unsure of herself and unknowing of the ways of men and women lacking the honor she has."



Alatáriël: Eldarion, Prince and Heir of Gondor, jerked as if he’d been slapped. Dark eyes narrowed but slightly as the prince kept his composure. Nettled, he replied in a hot retort, “My ‘games’, Legolas? A ‘careless endeavor’? Think you so little of me? That I would dare profess such to Lady Alatáriël, even as lovely as she is? You wound me, old friend. Deeply.” Eldarion’s spine tensed as he went on. “And what would one such as yourself know of infatuation, of love? You, who have never even gazed twice upon a beautiful face and been enraptured. For all your long years, Legolas, you are still alone. We humans do not have that luxury. Time is fleeting for us. So, we must seize what comes and hold it close. Which is exactly what I shall do,” he said ominously, “your wise words or no.” The prince sneered softly. “Do not think me dense, Legolas. I have seen you watching her. For all she is young and as ‘inexperienced’ as you say, do not pretend your thoughts, no matter how innocent, do not turn her way. I daresay every man here does, whether by their will or no. And my intentions, be they what they may, are my own and I will act upon them as I see fit.” Cooling down a bit, Eldarion’s flared nostrils eased and, with a curt nod to the other, he turned and disappeared back to camp.



Legolas : Though his face never betrayed it, some of the prince's words stung as they rang somewhat true. He did know little of love, for he'd never experienced it. Eldarion, on the other hand, likely experienced it a little too freely, flitting from one interest to the next as a hummingbird to a different flower. Did he think of Alatariel in such a way? No... no. He thought of her as beautiful, graceful and charming, but only a friend. She did not deserve to be badgered by a silly boy with dreams beyond his reach. He found it almost amusing that Eldarion, though half-elven, seemed to act and speak as if his years were set to a low number. The more to give him an excuse, Legolas thought. When the man had stalked almost all the way back to camp, Legolas let a few words in Sindarin slip from his lips in regards to such foolish behavior and hot-headedness. He sighed heavily and looked up to the far-reaching branches above him, his mood all but ruined. He truly did think the boy knew nothing of what could result should he pursue the elf-maiden. Pain would be the end of it, either his own at her rejection or hers when he found another to fancy. Even if they were interested in each other and remained that way, it would be to the thorough disappointment of her father and ultimately it would bring her to death, as Arwen would suffer when at last Aragorn passed. He stopped that train of thought quickly, as he always did. The ending to that tale would be hard enough to bear without harping on it until then. He walked deeper into the forest, disappearing for a long while, until at last he felt calm enough to be among the others again. He returned to a quiet but obviously curious dwarf. The two hobbits had already turned in for the night, as had most of the others.



Alatáriël: Beneath the colorful banner of Eowyn’s tent Ren remained for the night. She knew far better than to go wandering amongst the camp alone. Not after the incident earlier. Faramir had graciously agreed to bunk with his brother-in-law for the duration, thusly giving the ladies a bit of privacy. Eowyn cleaned and tended Ren’s minor scratches and the somewhat harsher cut at her shoulder, but assured the elf all was well. After a meager and tasteless supper, the young elf pleaded melancholy and sought refuge in her blankets. Elves did not feel physical cold, as humans did, but they were vastly sensitive to small changes in the environment. And Ren’s world had been shaken today. Eowyn, understanding, merely bid her goodnight and left her in peace. Thusly it stood for three remaining days. Ren sat her mare in the middle of the column of Rohirrim, not speaking unless spoken to. Eldarion tried to draw her out, but she either replied in clipped curt phrases or ignored him entirely. She was still chastising herself for her own folly, which could have cost her life. But the approach of Edoras brought a bit of color to pale cheeks as they rode into the city. Eomer extended hospitality of the Golden Hall to all and Eldarion, having to wait for the elves from Rivendell, whom were still perusing matters in Gondor, obliged to partake of it for a few days.



Legolas : Legolas, for his part, remained quiet and aloof to all but the dwarf, the hobbits and occasionally Eowyn or Faramir. To the latter two, he made polite conversation and sometimes inquired on Ren and how she was doing. He kept himself from approaching her all the way to Edoras, giving her the space he knew she needed. If only Eldarion would take the hints she'd been giving him many times over to leave her be. Edoras was a welcomed sight indeed, when finally it came into view. To himself, Gimli, Merry and Pippin, it brought memories of their Fellowship fresh to their minds and lifted their spirits. He recalled Gandalf, patient and steadfast as he freed Theoden King from the clutches of Saruman's spell, the life that returned to the King's eyes as he held his sword again and the rage he directed at Grima Wormtongue, who had made him captive to evil wizard for so long. Better memories of celebratory dancing and drinking came to mind in the short time they could spare after the attack on Helm's Deep. A particularly fond memory for him was a drinking game where all bets were on the dwarf... yet it was the elf who'd won to the shock of all. He couldn't help a smug grin at the thought as he and Gimli exchanged friendly banter. Eldarion, for all that he pretended to make the decision to stay, really had little choice in the matter. The elves of Rivendell would be a few days along, and they could hardly depart without them. Legolas made a point not to intrude on the prince, who had taken to avoiding him since their disagreement. Nothing to be done, the elf-prince knew, he would get over it soon enough. Walking slowly the length of Meduseld, he let his mind wander in memory. One night they'd already stayed, and Gimli had filled himself with mead in such excess that he still was snoring in the room they and the hobbits shared. The hobbits were eating second-breakfast, and though they had invited him to join them the first breakfast had filled his belly quite well enough. Honestly, he wondered where folk so small could find room for such vast amounts of food! The Golden Hall had been restored to its former glory and even beyond, and as he recalled old friends and comrades to mind he sang quietly in Sindarin, a sweet lament for times and people now passed.



Alatáriël: The people of Edoras, the hall servants and nobles, bowed as she passed. It both embarrassed and angered her. Ren sighed to herself as she slowly walked through the gilded halls of the residence. The gesture was polite and well, she knew, but who was she to garner such title? In Lorien, she went unnoticed but out amongst these humans, one such as she was a thing of enchantment. But most of these people had never seen one of the fair-folk. Most of the elves had sailed from Middle Earth some score and five years hence, and in times before they had tenuous relations with Men. Thusly the common people of these lands only had tales and songs in which to believe. Ren supposed she’d have to suffer it, as most of the races did when encountering for the first time those unused to others. Did not she, when dealing with people besides her own? Of course. Head bowed, she continued on, her long azure skirts sweeping the stone as she passed. She stepped outside, very nearly shocked by the brightness and vibrancy of Rohan. The wind swirled constantly around the city; banners and flags whipped in response. Ren brushed tossed locks from her forehead and gazed out across the plains. She felt a moment’s dementia, a slight dizziness; the world was so open all around her, it was difficult to catch a breath. So spacious… Quite unnerving. Not a tree for miles. She’d not partaken of any revelry since their arrival, nay, scarcely spoken to anyone unless necessary. Eldarion had finally realized his intrusion and quietly withdrawn for the nonce and Ren was ever grateful. She’d been content to simply remain in the shadow, quiet and watchful. But she felt enough of her self-imposed exile. She wanted to know more of this country, these people. Gaining her bearings, she continued around the Hall until she reached the entryway, giving a small smile to the guards, who straightened to attention at her approach. The still figure across the portico caught her eye and she veered towards it, hearing the quiet melody in her own language. A soft smile highlighted her face as the Mirkwood prince sang. Oh, the bittersweetness of the past! She could only fancy the memories. But she remained quiet and still, standing a few paces behind him, gazing out over the plains of Rohan, lost in her own silent contemplation.



Legolas : He knew she was there, somewhere close behind him, but Legolas continued his song until it ended at last a few verses later. He she enough solitude? He smiled, feeling glad that she had come to stand here with him, looking out over the expanse of the green, rolling country stretching for leagues and leagues. An elf could see far from a hill such as the one Edoras was situated upon, further still when they gazed upon grasslands rather than rougher terrain. The bright green and unmarred blue of plain and sky made for a delightful morning indeed. Without turning to her, he spoke with the same smoothness with which he sang. "'Quel re, Ren." A simple enough greeting, honest and meaning to see how she fared this day, if she were feeling better. He found it strange that he enjoyed speaking with her so much more than he would have expected, to the point that he worried of losing the ease with which they'd spoken before. Perhaps he truly had been too long away from his own kind.



Alatáriël: As his song ended and he greeted her, Ren stepped up beside him, gaze still enraptured over the green plain of Edoras. In the distance, she fancied she could see the tower of Orthanc, the land was so uncluttered. “’Quel amrun, Legolas,” she answered quietly. A strangely comforting nuance, the elven inflection of speech. Having spent a few days surrounded by nearly naught but Men, Ren’s ear was hungering for the melodic lilt of Sindarin. A soothing comfort, that. “Sut naa lle?” she inquired in return. “Eithel, estela amin.”



Legolas : He continued in Sindarin as he replied, "I am well, thank you. And you? Are you feeling better now?" He thought it best to go ahead and ask rather than to pretend not to have noticed at all. He turned his head to look at her with a soft smile. She did look as if she were doing much better. The winds that blew constantly over Edoras and much of Rohan whipped at strands of their hair and ruffled the fine fabric of their clothing, but it was a pleasant feeling, freeing in a way.



Alatáriël: Replying in kind, she answered, “Indeed. I am. Mayhap a bit too much freedom at once, the giddiness ran away with reason.” She offered a small shy smile. “Temperance I have yet to learn, it seems.” Returning her eyes to the plain, she mused, “So open and bright here. One could feel quite vulnerable, when exposed to such wide space. Such a contrast from the woods and vales of Lorien. It is almost as if the Men of Rohan are determined to remain here, while the land itself is enjoying the game they play against the other.” A quiet chuckle. “Yet it seems to be the nature of Men to be stubborn and determined, is it not? A race known for its ferocity and diligence. Flaming torches blazing into the thread of eternity. While we elves are merely eternal candles, smooth and unending. Such a contrast.” She thought of the Battle of Pelennor, how the Rohirrim had nonetheless come to Gondor’s aid though vastly outnumbered. Tales of legend. “Is Edoras and the world of Men much changed since the Last Battles?”



Legolas : He found her comparison quite fitting. The lives of Men burned only for a short time, but often blazed brightly in the case of those who had the courage and honor to do so. Elves were enduring, but so often content to let the world around them continue as it was, seldom offering to change it for better or worse. "It is changed, but much for the better. Theoden King was long under the spell of Saruman, and the country suffered greatly for it. Yet now, as you see, they begin to thrive again. Men are hearty folk, and their determination is very hard to kill, when it comes to surviving at least. As for other areas of their world, Arnor is being restored to the North to the kingdom it once was, though the process is slow. Gondor fares the best, I think, with its numerous populace and many territories. All things considered, the world is slowly adjusting to the freedom it now has from the threat of the Enemy, though troubles do still exist." He turned fully to her, "You could not have been given a better time to learn of such, Ren. Things are better, safer now than they have been since before your birth. Worry not of any mistakes, for they present a lesson that will not be taken lightly nor forgotten, and so far they have cost you only a little." He smirked, his blue eyes sparkling with experience. "I myself have made more than my share of them."



Alatáriël: “But I do worry, that’s just the trouble. Never have I been away from my father’s shadow, even now doth it linger over my shoulder. There is so much to see and learn; even with our long lifetimes do I dare hope to experience all. I was in haste, earlier,” she admitted, lowering her head, long wind-tossed locks hiding her face. “A child, truly. But as you said, there was little cost, though it could have been great.” She smiled up at him. “There was a friend willing to offer help and counsel, for which I am ever grateful.” She curtsied slightly, palm pressed over her heart. “But where is Master Gimli this morn? Still abed? And the Masters Hobbits were still to table as I passed through the hall only moments ago. A people very concerned over their meals, they seem.”



Legolas : He felt honored at her gratitude, inclining his head to her in a return gesture. "I do only what I know to be fair and right. It is my pleasure and honor as a friend to help you and see that you enjoy this outing." At her next words Legolas laughed, the sound trickling over into his reply, "They are indeed. I believe they have as many as many as seven meals in their country, and that counts not all the bits between. I have always marveled at how folk so small could eat as much as any man, oftentimes even more!" His grin dropped at one corner to become a wry smirk, "And yes, Gimli still slumbers. I'm surprised his snoring allowed for anyone else in Meduseld to rest at all." The dwarf, when visiting any elven land was a torment to many a pointy-ear.



Alatáriël: “King Eomer wore a forlorn frown at their repast, doubtless wondering how many days we were to remain here and if they would not strip Edoras’ storehouses in the meantime,” she said with a chuckle. “Knowest when the elves from Rivendell will arrive? The prince seems eager to be moving along; it seems restlessness has taken root of the young man.” She didn’t add that her last conversation with Eldarion had ended rather badly, she’d all but pleaded for him to leave her in peace and he’d replied his assent curtly and stalked away. Somehow she wondered if she needed to try to repair the damage; it wouldn’t do to be estranged from the prince at the outset of the journey, but honestly she couldn’t find fault with herself. She hadn’t sought him out. Eowyn had chuckled; saying that the eagerness of young men was easily forgotten and Eldarion would return to his good sense soon enough, but Ren hadn’t been entirely sure, as unused to the ways of Men as she was.



Legolas : "Patience is one of many things King Aragorn wishes the prince to learn on this journey. I would not mind in the least if the party from Rivendell tarried overlong in Minas Tirith. Though I am sure they will arrive within the next few days, by the end of the week at the longest." He said nothing of it, but was sure that at least some of the prince's impatience had to do with being on the long road with Ren again, where there was little aside from him to garner her attention. The young man would learn, sooner rather than later with any hope, that the world and all its comings and goings did not revolve around him and his wishes. The elf-prince of Mirkwood hadn't spoken to Eldarion since their... disagreement. It was true that Aragorn had given Eldarion leadership of the group in hopes of helping him to learn responsibility, but Legolas knew the position was beginning to bolster the prince's already magnanimous ego. Pulling his mind from such thoughts, he smiled politely to her as he asked, "Have you seen much of the hall and city?" He wanted to know her thoughts on the men and women here, if she found them as admirable and good in company as he did.



Alatáriël: “I’ve seen the splendor of the Golden Hall, yes,” she answered. “The Horse-Lords of Rohan are quite impressive in their carvings. One can almost hear the thunderous hooves. But I have yet to venture forth from the keep into the city proper. Such a harsh landscape, I fear I am unaccustomed to the steepness and would twist an ankle in my clumsiness.” Her eyes sparkled at the wry humor. “Nay, I simply have been overcoming my former melancholy to take notice of aught else, Legolas, much to my sorrow. But the few citizens I have met seem honest and genial, if hardy folk. Although I suppose they would have to be of tough stock, to endure such lands. I would much like to visit Vanya...” She gave him a shy entreating smile and lowered her lashes. “Might I impose you to show me the stables?”



Legolas : He nodded in understanding. She was still so shy and unsure of herself, naturally she would take some time to become accustomed to things. He offered his arm with jesting acquiescence, "Surely, you might. The decline to the stables is steep though, and I'd hate to enrage the leader of our group by letting you fall. It is not an uncommon thing! I'm sure that before our stay here is over you will see a very ruffled dwarf rolling down the hill." His smirk returned. It seemed a favorite sight to Pelekko, who would quite often nudge his master a bit too harshly on such rolling terrain. As they began walking, he spoke highly of the people of Rohan, his eyes looking here or there to observe many of them. "As fine as the halls and higher dwellings of Men are, you will learn more of their glory and shortcomings among the people. Before we leave I would like for you to venture with me beyond the keep, if you would. Gimli often likes to go to the smithy and see what new weapons he might find, though he always remarks on the superiority of dwarven crafts..."



Alatáriël: Ren couldn’t help it, the laughter burst from her lips before she could check it and her mirth rose higher with the imagery he presented. The sight of the blustery dwarf taking a tumble was indeed a hilarious sight. “I doubt me that would do well for Gimli’s constitution, Legolas!” she giggled. “He would grumble for days of the land’s treachery.” After a split second’s hesitation, she threaded her slender arm through his, fingers resting lightly on the green fabric. She followed, both by feet and eye, noting his words and gestures. The buildings and structures of Rohan seemed thick and large to her eye, she having lived all her years beneath the delicate crystal and strong boughs of Lorien. So imposing and forceful. As they passed, she couldn’t help but notice the glances given their way; men and women alike watched the two elves as they passed. Ren flushed a bit self-consciously. She knew Legolas was a bit more at ease among Men, but their eyes were still foreign to the young elf. Hurriedly turning her attention back to her guide, she said, “Of course. T’would be my pleasure. Although I must claim ignorance in the use of most, alas. I have yet to take my blade from its sheath.” Her lips twisted at her own incompetence. “Although ‘tis probably for the best. I would hate to lose a finger due to ineptness,” she chuckled.



Legolas : Indeed the stares of others seemed not to trouble him in the slightest, to the point he almost appeared oblivious to them. He veered their path toward the stables, the long, impressive structure coming into view just around the hill. So large and well cared for, it was nearly as grand in outer appearance as the Golden Hall. Men worked with horses outside the building and lead them to and fro, all perfectly groomed and beautiful animals. He smiled to her, "I doubt you would be so clumsy. There are many among us who could instruct you in the way of the sword. I myself prefer my long knives, but I can use a sword with almost as much skill. It would do you well to begin learning here in Edoras. Eowyn, though she has not been in battle in a long time, is most skilled with a blade and could give you advice. I would be glad to instruct you as much as I can, and there are others who would do so as well." He laughed then, thinking of her father and how desperately he'd tried to shelter his daughter. "I fear we will turn you into a warrior if you allow it, much to your father's dismay." His eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief. They came to the stables and he led her inside, greeting the Rohirrim they passed in common, sometimes in the language of the country. He was familiar with many of the riders from past battles or simple visits he and Gimli made now and then, sometimes escorting Meriadoc to the country he'd pledged his small but deadly sword to defend.



Alatáriël: Ren watched with eager eyes the surroundings of Rohan. Impressed by the vastness of the royal stables, she continued with Legolas inside, smiling to his offer of weapon instruction. “…you have done so much already, my lord, in effort to aid me in this endeavor. It would be most rude of me to keep coming to you for every little thing. Even if you did invite such disturbance.” The gleam in her eye matched his own. “And I have only dreamed of such, riding into battle for the cause of good and honor. My father would indeed faint away should I return home with a sword belted to my waist and shield on my arm.” But she mused to herself as they went inside, contemplating asking Lady Eowyn about a bit of training. She truthfully had only pulled the blade once and gazed at her reflection in the shining steel, wishing she knew how to wield such a lovely weapon. Gazing down the row of large spacious stalls, she spied her mare, the grey head over the barrier, ears pricked forward, a welcoming nicker greeting the elf. Ren smiled and went to her, petting and scratching as she crooned to Vanya in Sindarin. The mare’s head lowered and rubbed against her mistress’ shoulder, leaving a few white hairs against the azure velvet.



Legolas : He smiled and watched her pet and coo at the horse for a moment, before Shadowstar's whinny for attention called him to give his own steed a little scratching and a few kind words. The gruff snort from the beast clearly told him that the horse thought he'd been spending far too much time with everyone else when he could very well have been letting Shadowstar out to run and graze and harass the mares. "Are you my horse or Eldarion's? I would almost think you belonged to him, so alike you are," he chided the animal with a chuckle and a raised brow. The horse snorted again as if taking offense. Leaning to peer into the stall stout little Pelekko was in, Legolas was greeted with the sight of the pony leaning against the wood, drowsing and snorting softly every few minutes. Pelekko was so like his rider that it was no wonder they bickered so much. He smiled and returned his attention to Shadowstar, opening the stall and leading the stallion out. He removed the bridle and combed his fingers through the long, dark mane that lay in stark contrast to the gleaming white of the muscular body. Shadowstar was truly magnificent. Looking to Alatáriël, the prince gracefully mounted the unsaddled horse and cast his invitation in a light tone to her, "I'm going to give him some exercise. He is restless and wanting to stretch his legs. Would you and Vanya care to join us?"



Alatáriël: Running light sensitive hands over the mare’s arched neck, luxuriating in the softness of the grey fur, Ren looked a bit surprised at the prince’s offer, but leapt at the invitation. “Gladly, Prince. Gladly.” Mirroring Legolas’ actions, she slipped the soft rope bridle from Vanya’s head and opened the stall barrier, the mare snorting eagerly. Ren, a smile of complete delight crossing her lips, slipped atop the broad bare back, foregoing protocol for the moment. She wasn’t really dressed for riding, but her skirts were long enough to suit the purpose. Vanya started ahead eagerly, nostrils flared and head high at the scent of freedom. Ren tossed a grin to the Mirkwood prince. “We shall race you, my lord, dare you accept!” Bending low over the mare’s neck, she spoke a word and Vanya flattened her ears and bolted forward, steel shod hooves clattering on the wooden floors. The Rohirrim guards swore startled oaths as the horse thundered by, her rider laughing gaily, long chestnut hair and royal blue skirts streaming behind. Trusting the mare to find her footing on the rocky way, Ren kept her seat, hands pressed firmly against the surging neck as Vanya raced down the hill for the open gates of Edoras.



Legolas : Shadowstar caught the challenge even before his rider could accept and bolted forward, close behind Vanya. Legolas' face held a look of surprise for but a moment, before his eyes took a competitive gleam, "Aye, milady! I do accept!" One hand fisted in the flowing mane of dark horse-hair, the other rested on the neck, the prince tightened his long, strong legs on Shadowstar's sides, leaning forward and easily staying astride the galloping animal. Both elves left the Rohirrim in shock and amazement as they left the stables on the bare backs of their fast, spirited mounts to hasten down the hill. Hitting flatter ground, Shadowstar eased up to gallop alongside Vanya, staring at her eye-to-eye in a more personal challenge. Similarly, Legolas shot Alatáriël a grin edged with pride and well-meaning sport. This was a welcomed surprise, and it had been many years since he had raced one of his own kin. The last had been Lady Arwen, oddly enough. She had put him quite to shame, much to the mirth of Aragorn and all others who witnessed the outcome. They reached the open gate of the keep and shot through, heading for the city gate and the open fields beyond. Wind whipped his long hair and ruffled his clothes, but gave him the free feeling of flight. His heart always beat faster, lighter when he rode this way, elf and beast in perfect partnership, neither holding control over the other, both trusting and knowing each other's movements and abilities.



Alatáriël: The stallion was naturally stronger and a bit faster, this Ren knew. But Vanya had heart and she was foaled from Gondor’s finest steeds. She tossed her dark head to Shadowstar’s challenge and stretched out her neck a bit more. Ren spoke quietly in her ear, encouraging her to let the stallion lead through the city and the mare slowed fractionally as both shot through the dusty streets. But Vanya wasn’t to be held in long. As both horses thundered to the open fields beyond, Vanya’s ears once more laced back to her head and she stretched out parallel to the ground, long legs surging over the wind-whipped plain. Ren clung to her back, exhilarating in the freedom of horse and rider, feeling as if they could take flight from the earth and soar among the clouds. The wind streaming beyond her, the horse thundering beneath, the racing of her heart in time to the rhythmic hoofbeats; all brought tears to her eyes with the terrible beauty. The dark grey mare swiftly overtook the white stallion and drew ahead slightly, the female elf moving in perfect sync with her horse. Never before had she experienced this freedom, unfettered and uncontrolled, wild and untamed. The landscape swiftly rolled beneath flashing hooves as they raced across the open grasslands of Rohan.



Legolas : Legolas could feel the strain of Shadowstar's muscles beneath him as the horse inched forward, closing the small lead Vanya held. Legolas whispered to him to hold back just a bit, just enough to stay close alongside her for now. Though he was tempted to waste his energy overtaking her and leaving her in the dust, Shadowstar obeyed. Both horse and rider wished for this race to last, a race of endurance to prolong the glorious feelings rather than cut them short by giving up all strength in the beginning. The elf cast a sidelong glance to Ren, and the sight of unbridled joy on her face and in her tears warmed his heart and smoothed his smile into something akin to affection. He was proud to see her like this, as she had surely never been before. For all the wonder and wisdom held in ancient forests under aged boughs and watchful eyes, the woods could not give such freedom of motion as the wild plains offered. Here one could ride as far and as fast as their steed would carry them, day in and out. He glanced behind them, seeing Edoras was becoming a small hill in the distance, yet he cared not. The thunder of hooves tearing into grass and soil, kicking it up in clumps behind them and the smell of fresh grass and new wildflowers held too much promise to worry of the thoughts of others. And here, at least, they were safe to do as they would, and explore as she willed. They rode on thus, frothy sweat lathering beneath the prince where his body blocked the wild wind from cooling Shadowstar's back. The animal could not care, for too much fun was found in racing this spirited young mare on such a fine summer day.



Alatáriël: The wind was tangling her hair, she was sure. Strange, that her thoughts turned to the fussings of her maid at having to comb the long locks. But Ren didn’t care. Eressë would fuss, surely, but her young charge never heeded the elder’s chidings. Vanya held nothing back; she gave every quarter in this wild bid for freedom, bearing her rider swiftly and surely across the plains of Rohan. Daring a glance over a shoulder, Ren spied the hill of Edoras far in the distance behind them, a small hillock of color in the broad landscape. The straining of mighty muscles warmed the elf as Vanya’s grey coat darkened with a sweaty sheen. Both hands gripped the long dark mane tightly as she remained bowed low over the horse’s flexed neck. Glancing at the other pair, mischief danced in green eyes as Ren tensed her left calf muscle and leaned to the right, Vanya responding immediately and nearly toppling to the ground as the horse slewed around, throwing dark clods of earth from tearing hooves with the change of course. Ren’s bright laugh rang in the space they’d formerly occupied as she and her mount thundered on across the plain, heading in a completely different direction. Twisting ‘round, she shouted back at Legolas, “Come, princeling! This way! I’m winning!”



Legolas : If it weren't cheating, then it at least bordered very close to it. Both horse and rider could only give a brief, surprised look before Shadowstar caught on, veering the direction they'd gone. He was now a good distance behind, and Legolas yelled over the wind rushing past his ears, "We shall see!" To Shadowstar he whispered, "Now, Shadow. Show your true speed! Asca!" He grinned as he felt the tension slacken in the horse as he ceased holding back his speed, closing the distance gradually. The prince held on tighter against the slick hair and rippling musculature as the stallion showed his breeding in his incredible speed. Now close to Vanya's flank, Legolas could not hold back a teasing comment, a few strands of his pale hair tangling over his face, "Have you any more shortcuts? Vanya, for all the fine horse she is, is no match for Shadowstar!" He did not often boast, but it was all in good humor and between friends. He grinned and watched as Vanya's legs pumped as fast as she could while Ren leaned over her and urged her on. This was great fun, somehow more than he could recall having in years, at least that didn't involve arguing with and poking fun at a dwarf.



Alatáriël: Ren laughed to herself, pleased with her little joke. But she knew the stallion would overtake Vanya easily. Although the mare’s defiant spirit wouldn’t allow her to quit, Ren nonetheless spoke quietly as the other pair passed, concerned that the mare would do herself harm were she allowed to continue at such a wild pace. Vanya, not at all pleased at the outcome, obediently slowed and tossed her head, finally falling into a canter, down to a trot and then to a walk before stopping entirely. Sweat gleamed on the dark coat but the mare’s eyes showed a bright spark still. Her rider, although horribly disheveled and wrinkled, grinned widely, petted and stroked the strong neck, all the while speaking soft words in Sindarin. Ren slid from the mare, the better to let her feet once more adjust to the earth and to let Vanya take a quick breath. She continued walking, however, the horse behind her as the Legolas and Shadowstar finally realized they’d stopped and turned back. Ren gave a welcoming smile, complete with spry step as she laughed delightedly, nearly clapping hands in her excitement. Edoras was nowhere to be seen, they were the only creatures for miles.



Legolas : Shadowstar overtook the mare and continued on, intent apparently on showing out. The whites of his eyes gleamed visible all around the large, soulful irises in his excitement. Legolas looked back to see where Ren and Vanya were, and guided his horse to a halt. They turned and trotted back to their competitors, Shadowstar whinnying and tossing his head as if to boast and tease Vanya, though it seemed a friendly gesture. The elven prince dismounted, equally dishevel led and partially coated in horse-sweat. One look at his mirthful eyes and gleeful smile would easily tell that he did not mind in the least. His clothes - a more formal attire than his usual garb - were wrinkled and damp and he had to brush stray strands of hair from his eyes and the corners of his mouth, but he laughed with her, content to see her so giddy. "You were saying?" he asked with sparkling eyes that shone a bright, clear blue. The tallest things around for miles, the pair and their animals were easily visible among the tall grasses and wildflowers beneath the perfect sky, though not a soul was around to see them. Wind still played in their hair and clothes as they neared and he stopped an arm's length from her, not minding her appearance but instead taking joy in her freedom. In that moment she reminded him of a bird, as she had before, though no longer caged and finally learning to fly and be wild as was meant. Not for the first, and certainly not the last, he felt proud for bearing witness to such, and urging her along.



Alatáriël: Vanya snorted in response and lowered her nose, cropping mouthfuls of the sweet summer grass. Ren giggled and stroked the dark neck, amused by the animals’ antics. Turning back to the prince, she merely replied in an offhand manner, “I merely wished not to tire my mount by running her into the ground, prince.” But the twinkle in her eyes belied the nonchalance in her tone and she couldn’t keep the grin from her lips. Blinking, gazing down at her wrinkled dress, she said ruefully, “We both look a dreadful fright. And what will the people of Rohan think, behaving thus?” She clicked her tongue. “Shameful, for we dignified elves to act so rashly.” Giggles took her again and, driven completely by impulse, reached for his arm and pulled him with her, they walking along the wide plain. Ren had never felt thus; giddy and childish, completely free of all social inhibitions. Was this what it was like, to be unconstrained from society’s chains and fetters? If so, she then and there vowed never again to return to such a prison. Walking arm in arm with the Mirkwood prince, Ren realized she didn’t know what a dungeon she’d been in, until she was freed from the silken bars.



Legolas : He eyed her with one brow raised at her given excuse. "Certainly," he replied in a doubtful tone. To her next words, he looked himself over and joined her laughter. What would they think indeed! Eldarion's fuming, childish face came to mind instantly and made him laugh harder, a rare sort of sound to hear from him as it seemed to rumble up from his belly. As she took his arm and tugged him along, he flushed the slightest and complied with a speculative smile. She was becoming a different person in a sense, more alive and less the obedient child her father had raised. No longer was she a doll on a pedestal, but a woman coming to maturity in spirit, feeling and thinking outside of others' opinions. He rejoiced for her... and for himself, he realized. Was Eldarion correct in thinking Legolas looked upon her in more than a friendly manner? No, the prince told himself. They two were fast and good friends, each enjoying the company of the other away from judgmental eyes. He felt younger on this day, as if he'd not seen the horrors of war and the fate of mortals. As if he'd not suffered fear, doubt or anguish brought by dreadful times where hope seemed lost. He was her elder by many, many years, yet he felt no condescension toward her, and appreciated that she no longer was intent to bow and pay shy respect to him for his status. Here under the vast, bright sky and blinding sun there was freedom and rest from responsibility and social duty. He wondered if there were such in Valinor, if maybe that was what called to his people so strongly. "It gladdens my heart to see you smile so, Ren."



Alatáriël: Ren strolled along, blissfully lost in the open sky and landscape, inhaling everything with an eager soul. Had she wings, she would have soared far away amidst the clouds, never to return. Arm in arm with the Mirkwood prince, the images and beauty of the Lorien woods were quickly fading from her mind as a comforting place of refuge. Although she’d always been a studious and respectful child, she knew there was another hidden deep inside, a yearning for bright skies and grand adventure. Like her mother. When she rationalized things, she knew her father kept her sheltered and close because he feared he would lose yet another beloved one to the wilds unknown. But the longing in his daughter’s heart could not, would not be denied. And now she was able to experience it, embrace life fully, freed by political machinations, but it mattered not to her. The why was irrelevant, all that was of importance was that she was here, and the more she drank of the sweet nectar, the more she craved it so. She could release that secret soul that had been kept hidden for centuries; the playful, girlish one just ready to blossom into the first petals of womanhood, eagerly drinking in the sun’s rays. At Legolas’ words, she looked up at him then lowered her lashes as she flushed to the warm words. Untying her tongue enough to form a response, she murmured, “It has been long since I had reason to, Legolas. And for that, I thank you.” She looked back at him for a long moment, clear emerald eyes staring into those of deepest sapphire. But a spark of mischief lit the jewels and suddenly nimble fingers flew to the laurel brooch that pinned the Lorien cloak about his shoulders and tugged. The pin gave easily to the elven touch, not even tearing the fabric and the garment slithered away into her arms as Ren shrieked laughter and bolted away through the grasses. Vanya, alarmed and alert, snorted and cantered after her mistress, wanting to play in the game as well.



Legolas : His mouth opened in shock. First one trick, then another! She was full of surprises, so far all were playful and appreciated. He ran after her, though he could not quite catch her. At least, he wanted it to seem that way. After all, she could go only so fast in her skirts and so he held back a little. Shadowstar followed Vanya as she joined her mistress' game of chase, though the stallion could care little for the point of the game. He happily pranced and trotted, tossing his head and snorting. After a minute of letting her have her fun, Legolas sped up, now running close behind her and making half-hearted grabs for his cloak, "You sneak!" he called her in jest, "I let you have my arm and you want my cloak instead? Here I had figured you'd given up competing with me!" His ill-suppressed grin gave away the playful spirit of his mock-offense. Catching up to her at last, he caught the edge of his cloak and gave a tug.



Alatáriël: The horses rapidly tired of the game and fell still, munching grass once more. Ren, still running and laughing, nearly lost her grip on the cloak as Legolas caught it and tugged. She didn’t let go, however, merely tugged back. “Given up?! Never! I shall never submit the prize to a mere prince!” she cried between peals of laughter. “Had I my sword, I would teach you a lesson or two!” But she finally relinquished the garment and halted, sinking down to the ground and clutching her sides lightly. “Oh dear…this is quite strange,” she said breathlessly. “All this exertion has left me quite giddy, I’m afraid.” She grinned up at him. “And do forgive me, sire, I simply was unable to halt the temptation.” Halfheartedly smoothing her wrinkled skirts, she giggled again. “My father would have a fit to see me thus, wrinkled and disheveled.” She pushed a tangled lock of hair over her shoulder, shaking the rest back. “When do we have to start back for Edoras? It cannot be too late, is it? Mayhap sometime early afternoon by now? I should like to remain, for as long as we can.” She gazed about their surroundings, pausing to caress a small white flower growing from the deep green grasses. “It’s so lovely and peaceful here…”



Legolas : He almost fell back when she finally released her prize. He had been ready to pull again, but laughed softly and draped it over his left arm instead of donning it again. He sank to the ground beside her, opposite the flower and leaned on his hands to look up at the sky, "I do not think we would be missed until evening. As long as we ride back before dark, we shouldn't cause worry." Without really thinking about it, he picked a lock of hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear, chuckling softly. It was very tangled, as he guessed his own might be. At her soft blush he smiled warmly...just as he shoved her shoulder hard enough to topple her over. If they were going to return in such a state of disarray, she may as well complete the look with weed and grass seeds in her hair. At least he wasn't stealing articles of clothing. He laughed, "And anyway, we cannot return until I've repaid your tricks, no matter the time of day!" He was not about to allow her to have fun without recompense. The friendship of a certain red-headed, short fellow had taught him that.



Alatáriël: Ren smiled as Legolas dropped down beside her but blinked in startlement as he tucked the lock of hair away. The simple gesture nearly made breath catch in her throat; no one, not even her father, had ever done such. But she gasped and squawked in surprise as he shoved her, she caught so off balance she indeed toppled to her back. Catching his mischievous grin, her brows lowered in mock-offense and she couldn’t help but laugh helplessly and sit up, having nothing to flail him with. “My tricks?” she said indignantly. “Nay, princeling, I have naught to speak of. Merely a child’s heart and mind, giddy with the absence of a gilded cage at long last.” Her eyes crossed as she spied a weed caught in a shock of hair over her forehead. Chuckling, she plucked the stem away and tried again to arrange the mess into some semblance of neat. And failed miserably, thus she just shrugged and gave up. Ren looked him over and, with a slight pout, said petulantly, “You have nothing more to steal, Highness. Unless you’re hiding more than I can see.” She gave him a sly smile and, unable to help it, plucked the small white flower, inhaling deeply of its heady fragrance before stroking the petals against her cheek, reveling in the loveliness.



Legolas : Somehow he knew that if he were of the race of men and not an elf, he'd have had something to reply with. But an elf he was and so had a natural restraint to his words. He flushed the slightest and gave a half-grin as he watched her pick the flower after fussing so much with her lovely mane. She had things in her hair he knew she could not see, but he decided to leave them there. It added to the humor and childishness of her appearance. Finally he settled on a reply, "Nay, lady. If I did have anything to steal, I'd hardly tell you! Aside from that, I think it unfair that you've nothing for me to take in return." Well, truthfully she did. But he was less an opportunist than Eldarion would surely credit to him. Pulling his knees up, he rested his elbows on them and watched her twirl the flower. His smile was now coy as he waited for her reply, and he was in no hurry to return to Edoras and give up the comfort of her company.



Alatáriël: Her brow furrowed the slightest as she mulled over his words. “I have few possessions, that is true,” she said slowly. “A child as yet, still living in my father’s house. But…” she paused, looking down at her hands. “I do have this,” she said, holding up her right hand and the sunlight glimmered on a silver ring on her finger, the design hammered gold and silver shaped like a laurel leaf deep within a nest of ivy. Tiny diamonds and emeralds twinkled merrily about the face and she gently pulled it from her hand and let it rest in her palm. “It was my mother’s,” she explained. “She gave it to me…before she died. A dwarven metalsmith made it as a wedding gift from my father.” Extending her hand, she picked up one of his with her other and placed it in his palm and closed his fingers around the ring, it still warm from her skin. “I want you to have it,” she said shyly, lowering her head so that disheveled locks hid her cheeks. “As a heartfelt thanks from an undisciplined heart, Legolas.”



Legolas : His humor faded instantly, his lips parting in shock of the magnitude of such a gift. So unexpected, and truly undeserved. What had he done to be worthy of her mother's gift? "I cannot take it, Alatáriël," his tone was soft and a little breathless. His brows drew together as he looked at their hands, placing his empty hand over hers where she held his other closed over the heirloom. He opened it beneath her fingers and pressed his palm to hers, the ring between them. "This was your mother's... meant for you to keep. I have done nothing to deserve such a gift; though I am greatly honored you would give it to me." He looked at her face, half-hidden from him by the wild locks that he now wished were neat again so that he might better see her. He did not want to offend this delicate soul, only see that she kept such an important thing. His fingers, warm and slightly rough, caressed her hand in a soothing motion. His heart ached that she felt such gratitude to him for so little that he'd given. In that moment Legolas saw her father's reasoning for keeping her locked away from a dangerous world, hoping she never came to harm. He still could not agree, but he could sympathize easily.



Alatáriël: “Please take it,” she whispered, wide eyes meeting his shocked orbs. “I have the memory of my mother, that is all I need. I know not its worth; Master Gimli would be more accurate in that regard. I only know it brought my mother joy because it was a gesture of love and respect from my father.” Her flush deepened but she said the words regardless. “I wish to pass it to one for whom I hold in the same regard.” Long fingers curled together. “You have given me more than you can ever know, Legolas. You have shown me the bright sky and hope when all was darkness and despair. I know you would never expect payment, for you were only too willing to do so, but I feel I must offer payment in some small way, with only what I have.” She put their joined hands against his chest, over his heart. “Please keep the ring. A small token of what I can never repay…”



Legolas : The ache in his heart grew to a heavy feeling that was alien to him. His fingers tightened around her hand and pressed it gently to his heart where she'd placed them. Beneath the layers of cloth and skin the beat was strong and steady, easy enough to feel even to less sensitive, mortal senses of touch. His eyes softened as he gazed into her pleading face, "I will take it then. Its worth matters not in measure of coin, but know that to me the value is greater than any of mine own possessions, even than my passage from these lands." And truly, it meant that much. Though he lamented that she may only feel such gratitude for a while, and become disenchanted later and regret her gift. He dared not think she meant to say that she felt more than mere thanks and admiration for him. It was best never to speculate or hope for such things. He realized that a part of him did hope, just a little and in a wistful sort of way. He looked down at their hands, some of his feelings leaking into his eyes, "You know already there is no need for payment. I tell you this is more than enough, and it is I who am now indebted to you." A gentle squeeze, then he released her fingers to show the ring wrapped around the smallest finger of his left hand.



Alatáriël: A soft smile of delight lit her face as he released their fingers and she saw her mother’s ring adorning his hand. Green eyes sparkled gently as she sat back on her knees, truly glad. Ren pushed the stray locks over her shoulder in a girlish gesture, then a small line appeared between her brows as she looked over Legolas’ shoulder. “A party of armed men on horseback,” she reported. “They fly banners of Edoras. A patrol?” Suddenly self conscious of their surroundings, she bit her lip and rose to her feet, shaking out her skirts. Her heart sank as she realized how they must look. Gossip would surely start now; she knew that from her brief stay in Gondor, having heard the maids whispering about random rumors floating around the city the night of the celebration. “Oh dear,” she said despairingly, trying to shake the grass seeds from her hair. “It seems there will be questions and speculations, no matter what.” The patrol was still a ways off, but heading unerringly in their direction.