Only One

Disclaimer: Constructive criticism, suggestions and feedback are welcome. Flames will be cheerfully ignored. All recognizable characters belong to their respective, copyrighted Owners. Jordan Waters is mine. I have no money; please, don’t sue.

Feast and Fancy


Back in her quarters, Jordan discovered a fire had been started in the hearth. Its bright flames cheered the Immortal as she took a moment to soak in the warmth. After a moment, the woman walked to the balcony and looked out at the panoramic view of Rivendell at night. She could hear the many waterfalls, as well as the silhouettes of trees and the surrounding foliage; on her balcony, off to the side was a beautifully carved bench, and beyond it, steps leading down to a courtyard and a grove of trees below. Though there was no electricity, there were lights all around. Soft and inviting, they illuminated the buildings in it’s warm glow. Listening, Jordan could hear ethereal voices lifted in song. Closing her eyes, Jordan listened to the haunting music.

“I’m in an Enya video” she whispered giddily to herself.

Not knowing if she was late for the festivities, Jordan turned to go back inside; she paused, for all along the doorway, the external carvings glowed faintly in the weak moonlight. Cautiously reaching out, Jordan touched it – it was cool beneath her fingers. Experimentally, the Immortal scraped the carvings with her fingernails. It didn’t come away.

“Hmmmm…what is this?” she wondered aloud.

Unfortunately, Jordan was in a hurry and didn’t have time to give it more than a curious thought as she hurried back inside and peered into the armoire. Selecting a gown of the deepest emerald, she slipped it over her head and was amazed to find that it fit her perfectly. Going thru the drawers, Jordan was unsuccessful. She couldn’t find. . .

“Panties. Where are the panties?” she wondered, pawing thru the drawers. Starting over, Jordan searched the armoire from top to bottom. Her thorough search was fruitless. She pursed her lips thoughtfully.

“I guess they don’t exist here.” The Immortal said to herself; it appeared she would have to do without.

Biting her bottom lip, Jordan smiled and blushed slightly. The Immortal had to admit it felt . . . liberating, titillating and a bit naughty to go about au natural.

“At least I won’t have to worry about panty lines.” She murmured with a grin.

At the bottom of the armoire, the Immortal found a pair of matching slippers. Sliding her feet into them, she walked around the room. They were heaven. Made of velvet, the footwear appeared delicate, but were surprisingly sturdy. The soles were cork and felt wonderful on her feet, unlike anything she’d ever worn.

“It’s Elvish magic.” Jordan said aloud. As the woman closed the doors to the wardrobe, she spied a hairbrush in the armoire. Turning it over in her hand, Jordan examined it closely.

“No way. . . ” she murmured to herself, with a grin on her face. The handle and back was encrusted with…rubies and emeralds!

“I’d better not drop this.” The Immortal said.

With a laugh, Jordan stood by the fireplace and brushed her hair dry till it shone. Giving her reflection a critical glance in the mirror, Jordan twirled slowly, pleased to see the gown flattered her figure; the sumptuous material clung to her curves and bosom, and the deep verdant hue intensified the color of her eyes. Since she was going for the monochromatic look, Jordan decided it was fitting that the Leaf was the only ornament she wore -- never mind the fact it was the only piece of jewelry on her per Com Coming closer to the mirror, the woman inspected her face; she wasn’t surprised to see her injuries had completely healed.

“Hopefully Legolas won’t notice.” She murmured to herself.

Jordan decided she was safe enough in Rivendell to go without her weapons, sincerely doubting the Elves would spend the night in wild revelry and licentious debauchery. Squaring her shoulders, the Immortal couldn’t help but hesitate as dread and eagerness warred within her.

“I can’t hide here forever. Here goes nothing.” Jordan said to herself. Taking a deep breath, she grasped the door pull and stepped outside.

# Tha Thanking Ceallach for her assistance, Jordan lingered in the vestibule. In the great hall, the feast was in full swing. Everywhere Jordan looked were tall, beautiful Elves attired in gorgeous robes and gowns. In the sea of color, Jordan’s gaze swept the room; she almost overlooked the small group of Men, for their dark clothes almost completely camouflaged from sight. Jordan was under the impression she was the only human in Rivendell. Apparently she was wrong. as she watched, some of the Men leaned against the doorway, taking in the sight of the Elves as they passed, while other Men filled their plates with food and carried them outside.

Curious, the Immortal wondered who they were as she observed them; some were speaking with Elves, others were talking amongst themselves. Their long, dark hair hung at or past their shoulders. Facial hair in varying stages of growth identified them as non-Elven. Their plain, somber clothing was a direct contrast to the rich, flowing fabrics the Elves favored. The Men were tall, though not quite as tall as the Elves. One in particular caught her eye; from across the room, his direct gaze held Jordan’s when her eyes settled on him. They stared at each other for several moments before the Immortal was distracted when several bright shades of orange and yellow caught her attention. When Jordan looked back to where the Men were, they were gone. The Immortal didn’t give them a second thought as she continued to survey the room.

The music in the background was as beautiful and unearthly as the beings she was surrounded with. Exquisite garlands and flowers of all colors and species festooned the walls and tables, their delicate fragrances perfumed the air. Feeling like the analogous country cousin amidst such unparalleled beauty, Jordan edged her way to a potted plant and stood close to its wide, dark leaves, hoping to blend in with the foliage in an attempt to be inconspicuous as she gazed around the room. So enthralled with her surroundings, the woman forgot her hunger, instead she feasted her eyes on the sights surrounding her.

Food-laden tables were placed throughout the room. Seated close to a table spread with assorted meats, Jordan watched Gimli busy at work; his plate was piled high with food, and he ate with relish. The Immortal searched the room, telling herself it was only because she was hoping to see another familiar face. After all, there was nothing quite like attending a party where you didn’t know a single soul. It wasn’t difficult to find his fair head.

“Guess there’s no such thing as an ugly Elf.” She whispered to herself.

Though the Elves possessed beauty beyond compare, to Jordan’s eyes, the golden Elf was more handsome than any other Elf in the room. There was . . . something about him that drew the Immortal to him like a magnet and made her heart flip-flop in her chest.

** Impossible. You’ve only just met. ** she told herself.

Despite herself, Jordan thought about their kiss in the forest, and the memory of it brought a smile to her face. Giving herself a mental shake, the Immortal wondered how Legolas’ presence alone had the power to make her speechless, wanting nothing more than to stare at him. He also made her feel like an awkward teenager again – a feeling she’d not experienced in quite some time. From her sheltered hiding place, the Immortaservserved the Golden Elf.

Legolas had changed as well. Dressed in resplendent clothes, the son of Thranduil seemed to glow with an inner light. Legolas was talking with two male Elves who were mirror images of one another; looking back and forth between them, Jordan thought they closely resembled Lord Elrond.

** Maybe I should say hello. ** Jordan thought, about to step out from behind the plant.

Jordan halted abruptly, nervous. Suddenly feeling shy, the Immortal smoothed her gown with palms that were slightly damp; she hoped Legolas would notice she looked different from when they’d first met; Jordan hesitated, unsure why the Elf’s good opinion of her mattered. Staring at him, Jordan was still pondering the thought, when Legolas looked straight at her. The woman stood still; hoping he didn’t see her, she willed herself to be one with the potted plant. Holding her breath, the Immortal was relieved when one of the Elves asked him a question, causing Legolas to look at him. Jordan was so engrossed in watching the Wood Elf that she started at the soft voice by her elbow.

“Jordan, why are you hiding?”

Læurenthail was dressed in a long peach colored gown, a smile graced her lovely face when she spied Lord Elrond’s unusual guest hiding behind a plant. Sensing her awkwardness, the she-Elf went to Jordan in an effort to make her feel welcome. The look of surprise and relief on the woman’s face was obvious to the Elven maiden. Appraising her with an objective eye, Læurenthail noted Jordan barely resembled the she-male she was upon her arrived at Rivendell.

** She is fair for a Daughter of Man. ** the Healer decided.

Although Læurenthail wasn’t inclined to seek the company of mortals, she understood why Lord Legolas befriended them. They were like children; their emotions were unguarded, and given their limited time on middle-earth, lived their lives with a passion worthy of admiration. The Healer wondered about Jordan’s age, for she seemed more like a youth than a woman. Perhaps she had not attained her full stature, for the top of her head only reached to most Elves’ chins.

“Læurenthail—it’s so good to see a familiar face!” Jordan said, glad to see the Healer.

“Thank you for the gown, I’ve never worn anything like it—and best of all, it fits!” she said, smoothing the dress once more.

“Your own garb was used as a guide to alter the gown and the other garments. Come, this is the feast of Lord Elrond, and feast we must. The revelry will begin soon thereafter.” With her hand beneath the woman’s elbow, the Healer gently pulled Jordan away from her hiding place and led her towards the tables.

** When in Rome…or is it Rivendell? ** Jordan smiled at the private joke as she allowed herself to be pulled along.

Nodding to the Elves the she-Elf introduced her to, Jordan looked back to where she last saw Legolas; the Immortal was vaguely disappointed to see he was gone. With a small sigh, the Immortal obediently followed Læurenthail, trying to remember the (to her ears) unusual names as the Healer pointed out guests of import, and introduced her to others of particular interest as they drifted towards the tables. When they did finally reach the food, the Immortal sighed in relief as she inspected the spread; Jordan recognized some, but most she didn’t. Regardless, the presentation surpassed any catered affair Jordan had ever attended, and the variety was astounding. The appetizing aromas wafted through the air. The Immortal’s stomach growled in response, reminding Jordan of her inattention to its needs.

Filling a plate, Jordan quietly nibbled her food; talking with Elves Læurenthail introduced her to, the Immortal answered their curious qionsions, tailoring her answers without giving away too much, being deliberately vague. After eating her fill, a passing servant collected the Immortal’s plate. Wanting fresh air and a chance to walk off some of her meal, Jordan excused herself from the pleasant company and made her way to the balcony.

Going to a dark corner, the Immortal stood at the railing; the chatter and music of the feast in the background faded to a muted hush as she listened to the night sounds. Looking up, Jordan imagined a giant child taking a handful of stars and scattering them across the nighttime sky. Without artificial lighting, it was amazing to see how brightly they shone, twinkling like diamonds against a bed of black velvet. Taking a deep breath of the cool night air, the scents of the moisture from the waterfalls, the surrounding forest and the feast filled her nostrils. A star blazed across the sky, its tail left a glittering path in its wake.

With her eyes closed, Jordan’s lips moved silently as she made a wish. The Immortal thought of home and Duncan; he seemed so far away. But . . . after a full stomach, a luxurious bath, and in the safety of Rivendell—surrounded by fabled creatures of legend, the woman’s perspective changed. Shivering, though not from the cold, Jordan wrapped her arms around herself. Jordan was torn between wanting to fully experience this incredible adventure and wanting it to end, becausemustmust. Still lost in thought, the Immortal was startled as something warm enveloped her. Whirling around, Jordan discovered Legolas had draped his cloak over her, and he now stood before her with a small smile on his handsome face; the Elf was standing so close that Jordan had nowhere to go, trapped between him and the railing at her back. They stared at each other in silence for a few moments.

** He’s worth staying** Jordan thought.

Blinking, the Immortal mentally s her herself; it was a dangerous line of thought that was best left unexplored. Jordan
studied the Elf, unable to help herself. In the moonlight, Legolas’ pale hair gleamed, his features luminescent. Mesmerized, she stood still. A voice in the back of her mind whispered she should thank the Elf for his thoughtfulness, but Jordan found her tongue was suddenly stuck to the roof of her mouth. Instead, she returned his smile with one of her own.

Needless to say, the Immortal didn’t expect his next move, for Legolas’ hands cupped her face, gently turning it as he looked for her injuries. Not only was Jordan surprised, she was unprepared for the tingling sensation that caused a delicious shiver to go down her spine. It was like a miniature Quickening. Unconsciously Jordan swayed towards the Elf, closing her eyes as she enjoyed the feel of his hands against her face. Satisfied with his inspection, Legolas gently brushed his knuckles against Jordan’s cheek before his hands slowly traveled down the smooth column of her neck. Normally very protective of the vulnerable part of her anatomy, Jordan found she didn’t mind Legolas’ hands there – as long as he didn’t squeeze or try to snap it. The Elf’s fingers touched the pendant suspended on its silver chain.

“That is the leaf of Lórien. How did you come to possess it?” Legolas’ gaze was puzzled as he looked at her.

“It was a gift from an acquaintance. He gave it to me shortly before I . . . arrived here.”

** No--of course! This must be the key to everything! ** Jordan’s thoughts were spinning in her head. The way back home could possibly be suspended around her neck!

“Legolas, maybe this is the answer to my way home, maybe--” Her eager words were cut off as the Elf placed a finger gently against her lips, effectively silencing her.

“If you hold the key, then there is time enough to find your way home. Tonight let us enjoy the evening.” He murmured.

For his part, Legolas was unsure why he did not notice the Leaf before, and even more confused why he stilled her words. All the Mirkwood Prince knew was he did not want to hear Jordan speak of leaving, not so soon. The Elf surprised himself yet again when he took Jordan’s hands in his own and planted a kiss against the backs.

Jordan watched when the golden Elf kissed her hands in a courtly gesture; maybe it was the moon, or the stars, or the very romantiod iod itself, but the Immortal swore the warmth of Legolas’ lips remained on her skin where his lips touched it. And she couldn’t help but feel secretly thrilled that the very handsome Elf hadn’t released her hands as his blue gaze swept over her.

“Elven garb suits you, Jordan Waters. I am glad to see you well enough to attend the festivities. I was hoping you would come.” Legolas said.

Jordan took the opportunity to study the Elf as well. He was wearing a silvery blue tunic with clasps down the front, and his forearms were bare of the vambraces he had previously worn; under the tunic were brown leggings tucked into his boots, which were cleaned and polished. The Elf definitely cut a fine figure.

“I’m feeling much better, thank you. And are you enjoying yourself, Legolas? Have you eaten yet? Where is Gimli?”

Jordan knew she was babbling, but was unable to help herself. Legolas was oblivious to the havoc he wrecked upon her composure. He made the Immortal both nervous and excited, and his attentive flirtation, although quite enjoyable, didn’t help matters, either. Jordan couldn’t quite understand why he affected her so. It was most disconcerting.

“I have eaten, and Gimli is no doubt enjoying the mead and ale Rivendell has to offer.” Legolas answered. He turned his head slightly and listened.

“The singing and revelry has begun. Do you wish to join?” The Elf asked. He raised a dark blonde brow when Jordan declined.

“I think I’ll stay out here a little longer. I’m enjoying the beauty of the place, and I want to think for a while.”

“Do you wish to be alone, or may I join you?”

“Please stay.” She invited.

* * Forever. * * Jordan silently added before squelching the unbidden thought.

Legolas led the woman to an ornately carved stone bench, where they sat side by side. The Immortal noticed he still held her hand within his. Jordan marveled at how something so simple made her heart soar. Legolas was pleasant company; before long, they talked of the wonders and beauty of Rivendell, which led to a comparison of Legolas’ home in Mirkwood. Jordan loved hearing the Elf’s voice, and a small part of her wished the evening would last forever. But the other part knew she shouldn’t monopolize the Prince of Mirkwood, either. Though the conversation was enjoyable, and the present company more so, Jordan looked at the golden Elf with regret in her eyes.

“We’d better return. I wouldn’t want them to think Orcs kidnapped you,” she teased, though she made no move to rise.

Legolas stood, the movement smooth and fluid; he gently tugged Jordan’s hand. As the Immortal stood, he placed one hand on the small of her back, and drew her close. Jordan looked up at him, surprised. Her eyes widened when Legolas combed his fingers thru her hair; Jordan soon felt goose bumps start to rise up and down her arms.

Bending his head, Legolas softly said in her ear, “Mayhaps they would think you had spirited me away. I would not resist.” Flustered, Jordan blushed. Already her cheeks felt quite hot.

“There you two are! The ale is tolerable here. Lord Elrond’s brew masters need some instruction from the Dwarves. Jordan, how are you feeling? You look well enough. Come and feast, for tonight is a night of revelry!”

The Dwarf’s blustery voice broke the spell. With a smile, the Elf released the Immortal. Glad for the distraction, Jordan went to the Dwarf, whose nose and cheeks were a bright pink.

“Gimli, I’m glad to see you. Isn’t the feast wonderful? Legolas and I were about to listen to the singing.”

“Well, the pointy-ears spend too much time singing and telling tales, but I suppose they do have a gift for it. Let us discover for ourselves what the fuss is all about.” Legolas gave Jordan an enigmatic look as he and Gimli escorted her to the festivities and remained by her side for the duration of the evening.

Surrounded by beautiful beings with equally beautiful voices, the Immortal was captivated. When the dancing began, Jordan was entranced by the grace and beauty of the dancers, as well as the intricate steps. Jordan thought the dance reflected the traits of the beings themselves, for like them, the steps were graceful, complex and the partners were not held close, but were at a distance. Jordan was still reflecting on her thoughts when a lovely she-Elf approached. The Immortal laughed with delight when the maiden managed to get Gimli on his feet; two made an incongruous pair as they moved thru the steps. Surprisingly, the Dwarf was a graceful and adept partner. Jordan was so intently observing the dancers; she didn’t notice Legolas watching her. The Elf was thoughtfully stug thg the unusual beauty beside him, enjoying the way her dark head bobbed in time to the music, her gaze darting from the dancers’ feet, to their posture and back again.

“Luithiach nin (You enchant me).” Legolas murmured, more to himself than aloud. Blinking, the Fair Elf shook himself and decided it would be better for them to join the merriment.

“Would you like to dance?” He asked her, with a smile on his face.

Jordan was so engrossed in watching the dancers, that she didn’t hear the question. The Elf touched her arm and repeated his question. Embarrassed, Jordan apologized as she considered the Prince’s question. She was about to accept his invitation, then she thought again.

“Oh no, I couldn’t. I don’t know the steps.” Jordan demurred, yet the eagerness and longing in her eyes contradicted her words.

“Then I shall teach you. Allow me the honor of a dance with you, fair Jordan.” The Immortal hesitated.

“Please.”

Legolas held his hand out to her and smiled, for Jordan’s cheeks were flushed with excitement. With her hand enveloped in his, the Elf led the Immortal to the dance floor. When they reached the dance floor, Jordan had a sudden change of heart, and would’ve returned to her seat, had Legolas not kept a firm grasp on her hand. After more cajoling, the Legolas led the woman through the elaborate steps.

The Golden Elf effortlessly caught the Immortal and laughed with her when she stumbled yet again; much to Jordan’s relief, Legolas was a patient instructor. Halfway through the dance, Jordan finally managed to not step on the Elf’s boots quite so often -- although several times Legolas had to firmly yet gently steer her away from the other dancers when they almost collided. The Mirkwood Elf kept his amusement to himself, for he observed Jordan was concentrating so hard on the steps, that she was tense and stiff in his arms; her cheeks were colored most becomingly with the effort of not bumping into the other participants. A large part of the problem was that Jordan wanted to lead.

“Relax, Jordan; trust me. Surrender yourself to the music.”

** Easy for you to say ** Jordan thought, intensely aware of the Elf’s arms around her; her pulse rate was rather fast, and she was certain it wasn’t because of the dance.

Jordan nodded and closed her eyes, willing herself to relax. Concentrating on the music, she pretended it was Duncan’s and not Legolas’ hands and body guiding her. the ploy worked, for Jordan was finally able to follow Legola’ lead, not noticing they had danced through one song. When the song ended, the Immortal laughed up at the Elf; her green eyes sparkled with her joy at not stumbling over his boots. Legolas’ breath caught in his chest.

** Nan Belain, he ssen main (By the Valar, she is beautiful!) ** Legolas thought with surprise.

Unable to help himself, the Elf bent down and brushed his lips softly against Jordan’s; the awareness crackled between them like a living thing. They stood there a moment, caught up in each other, before the Elf led her back to their seats. The dancing was over, and the singing began again; this time, the Elves requested Jordan sing a song. The Immortal vigorously demurred their invitation; the Elves, on the other hand, relented in their requests only after the Immortal promised she would sing a song the next evening—on the condition they accompany her with their voices and instruments.

The merriment and revelry continued well into the night; despite wanting to be a part of every minute, Jordan reluctantly decided to call it quits when her eyes grew heavy. Noticing her fatigue, Legolas stood and escorted Jordan back to her quarters; once ag his his hand was at the small of her back. As they came to her door, Jordan cleared her throat, wondering if Legolas would kiss her good-night. As if reading her mind, Legolas took a step closer and, with a finger beneath her chin, gently tilted Jordan’s chp. p. Jordan’s lips parted in anticipation as the Mirkwood Elf’s face drew nearer. With her pulse racing, Jordan closed her eyes and frowned slightly when the Elf placed a chaste kiss on her forehead; his warm lips lingered as he breathed deeply of her scented hair.
Slightly miffed, the Immortal blinked up at the Elf.

“Goodnight, fair Jordan, sleep well.” Bowing to her, Legolas left.

Looking after him, Jordan shook her head and entered her quarters; though the kiss wasn’t quite what she hoped for, the Immortal couldn’t help the wide grin that spread across her face. Carefully hanging her gown in the armoire, the Immortal changed into the sleep shift laid out on her bed. Looking around the room, Jordan saw that her clothes, a cheese and fruit tray and a washbasin with water had been added. Hugging herself, Jordan spun around, remembering the feeling of being in Legolas’ arms. The Immortal twirled towards the bed and threw herself onto the feather mattress. Lying on her back, Jordan stared at the ceiling and laughed at herself before climbing between the sheets. With a yawn, the Immortal was asleep before her head hit the pillow.

#

As he made his way back to his quarters, Legolas’ mind replayed the night’s events. He was hoping Jordan would be well enough to attend the festivities, and placed himself where he could watch all the possible entrances; the Elf was beginning to believe Jordan she was able to attend, when he caught sight of her arrival in the great hall, looking both wary and excited. She was very fair to behold, and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her, all the while trying to hide his amusement at her attempt to hide behind the plants--as if she wouldn’t be noticed.

Unfortunately, Elrohir, one of Lord Elrond’s twin sons, had chosen that very moment to ask him a question, necessitating the courtesy of eye contact as he answered; after, Legolas’ blue eyes searched for Jordan, only to see her leave with the head Healer. Watching her from a distance, the Mirkwood Prince was glad to see Jordan enjoy herself, knowing Elven hospitality would allow nothing less. He decided to retreat to an alcove where he could watch her without being observed. As she ate her meal, Legolas could see her eyes wandering the room. He wondered if she looked for any one in particular. After Jordan had eaten, Legolas watched as she stepped outside for a bit of fresh air. He decided to follow her outside; pausing in the doorway, Legolas saw Jordan shivering in the cool night air. More than that, he sensed the melancholy radiating from the woman, and stepped forward hoping to lift her spirits.

After draping his cloak about her, Legolas wanted only to comfort Jordan at first; however, in the moonlight, the Elf saw her in another light. The image was gone before he could recapture it. Instead, Legolas was left with a compulsion he must obey; the Mirkwood Prince couldn’t help himself. He had to touch her.

Tilting Jordan’s face to see it better, the Elf saw that her face was whole. He wondered yet again how that was possible. The question stilled on his lips when Jordan’s eyes widened, and it thenthen that he looked at her. Really looked at her. Legolas had never before been attracted to mortal women, yet there was…something about Jordan that reached out to him. She was a virtual stranger, yet he found himself wanting to be by her side as much as possible. Troubled, Legolas decided perhaps a walk would put matters into proper perspective and add clarity to the situation.