To Wed an Elf
Chapter 9
The room lay in oppressive silence while Falawyn digested the information from both Legolas and confirmed by his friend. Turning her eyes heavenward, she implored the supreme one above to grant her strength that had been nothing but a fleeting wish before. With wooden fingers she straightened herself, covering the creaminess of her flesh. "I had..." She began, her eyes cutting toward the elf at the door. Her small frame shot from ted aed as she saw him inching through the door, leaving her. "No, IIian...." She laid her hand against his thick bicep, an unspoken request to remain. "I must ask you..."
Ilian leveled a stern look upon her, a look of stubborn refusal. "Speak to him, my lady."
"No. I cannot. I must know and know now. It dictates the very breath I draw next." She let her eyes slip closed for a moment, calming herself and preparing to lay a question at the elf's feet she wasn't sure she was prepared to hear the answer to. "Could he love me?" She shook her head as the cowardly question left her lips. It was not the question she had meant to ask, not the question she required the answer to. "No. Does he love me?"
It was upon Iiian’s lips to give her the answer. But he could not. It would not be what she needed, an answer so easily given … one spoken from foreign lips, lips of a virtual stranger. "What does your heart tell you, Falawyn? Listen to it. It has all the answers you need there. Trust in it."
Pulling his long, flaxen locks back in the decorative leaf clasp, Legolas stood at the threshold of the sun chambers, his chest heaving into a slow, rhythmic breathing. Opening the door, he stepped inside with the regality of his forefathers on his shoulders. Nodding respectfully toward his father, he attempted a smile. “Your majesty, I am here at your command.” A slight turn of his head and he recognized the man in whom he had put the fate of himself, as well as that of all of his people. “Aragorn!” Crossing the room, the elf gathered the waiting, smiling king into a distinctly warm embrace. “Nae sailuume'. Oio naa elealla alasse' (It’s been too long. Ever is your sight a joy.)”
Returning the friendly clinch, the Aragorn smiled tenderly. “Mellonamin, Lle maa quell. (My friend, you look well.)” Moving his mouth closer to the ear of his comrade and friend, the king whispered softly. “Uuma dela. (Don’t worry). I can help.”
Ellekar ground his teeth at the words spoken between his king and the elven prince. Elvish. It did not bode well for him or his claims against the Mirkwood prince. With a huff of agitation he asked, "What do the two of you speak of, Elessar?"
Rai a d a dark eyebrow, Aragorn turned toward the other human, his arm still loosely around the strong shoulder of his friend. “Although it is neither your place to ask nor my responsibility to answer, I will tell you without reservation. We speak naught but greetings.” A reassuring squeeze to Legolas’s shoulder and he moved toward the decorative table at the center of the room. “Come, my friends. Sit with me while we discuss this misapprehension.” With a gesture toward the chair seated at the head, Aragorn silently sought permission from Thranduil to take the commanding position, even though he stood in the midst of the elder elf’s realm.
Thranduil nodded his head, silently grateful for the king of Gondor's intervention in the matter. His only hope was for the issue to be settled quickly and peacefully. He had no wish to see his son or the fair Falawy lin linger in pain while the matter went unsettled.
Ellekar dropped his head in angered hurt that his life long friend had treated him with none of the respect and joy he bestowed on the undeserving elf. "Such friendship and greetings are rare these days it seems, my lord."
Innocent human eyes turned toward Ellekar. “Fear not, my friend. Our bond is tight and unwavering.” He motioned toward the seat next to his. “I am here to make certain that we all tighten the threads of friendship amongst ourselves.” His look became compassionate. “Rest easy, friend. And speak to me of what troubles you.”
"I will not have my daughter taken from me, Elessar. The elven realm is not for her. I seematcmatch for her in the high houses of Gondor, to live out her life within Minas Tirith. I charge the elven prince has used words of passion upon her weak mind and has sway her from her true path." Ellekar stood as he spoke, his voice a resounded smack of accusation and belittlement of his daughter.
A long silence followed as Aragorn digested the words. “I have no memory of your daughter’s mind being one of weakness. Nay, my remembrance of Falawyn is one of brightness and extreme common sense.” Turning toward Legolas, he took note of the restrained anger prevalent on the face of his friend. “I will hear from you in a moment, mellonamin (my friend).” Nodding toward Thranduil, he spoke clearly. “What say you, sir? Will you give me your statement concerning the allegations?”
Thranduil's lips parted prepared to speak of Falwayn and how she came to be in his kingdom, but across from him the doors parted slowly. Soft rays of rnoornoon sunlight silhouetted the figure poised there and he fell silent feeling his words would no longer be needed.
She entered the chamber with regal bearing, back straight and shoulders squared, her countenance cast in the serenity of purpose, serenity of mind and of soul. IIian's words resounded inside her head telling her to listen to her heart and she had done just that. The wealth of knowledge inside that small chamber poured forth.
Aragorn’s face turned noting not only the look of pain on the face of Legolas, but also noting the awe and worship that presided there, as well. All was revealed in his expression, it was there for all to read, if they would but look and understand. With a knowing raise of an eyebrow, the king smiled. “Falawyn, you have words to speak?”
"Fala...." Her father’s voice rose but was quieted as she spoke above him addressing Aragorn directly.
"My lord." She bowed with swan-like grace, dipping gently at her waist. "I know not if you wish to hear what I have to speak but I believe it has some baring here. Perhaps to make clear that which is questioned."
Aragorn nodded, his face tenderly urging. "It is your fate that is being decided. Ergo, your words should be heard above all." His gaze turned again to Legolas as his smile grew slightly. "Your words and those of one other." He noted the widening of Legolas's eyes and the slight turn of his head and knew. He knew his friend was preparing himself for distasteful words .. words that had the potential to crush. Looking back to Falawyn, he motioned toward her with a flourish. "Speak, child. Please."
She bowed her head in accord. But her first words were not for Aragorn, Thranduil, or Legolas. They were for her father, her tormentor, her persecutor. "Father, you think I have not the will nor mind to tend my own fate. You think me weak and for that I fault you not. Had I spoken more clearly, shouting to the heavens my own will mayhap you would have heeded." She shrugged her delicate shoulders as her head dipped to the side studying the man as if she were seeing him for the first time. "Know you not that you killed her? You took from her something so precious and necessary she knew not how to deny it lest she cut it from herself, sear it from her soul. You forbidding my mother the ways of the elves was as if forbidding her to breath. Why? What fear tends you so well that you would kill such a woman … no, such an elf as she beautiful, gentle, loving, yet all the while withering and dying inside for the loss of these forests, the loss of these elves. Her kin, father. Was it done to sooth yourself? Was it love of another you so feared? Love for the elven ways that could take her from you more permanently than death? Love for her daughter? A love that would give me what it could not give her."
Her gaze shifted from her father’s eyes and met the knowing gaze of Aragron. He knew she spoke the truth. She knew he had seen the evidence himself and felt pity for her mother.
"My lord, Elessar, upon death’s very breath my mother asked of me to bring a parchment here, to Mirkwood. She instructed me to give it to none other than Thranduil, that is what brought me to this forest. What has kept me here is my heart. I met my destiny and will hold to it with all that is in me. I am neither weak nor witless. Fear of the man I call father has stayed my tongue until now, but my heart dictates I speak what is true and sure. I wish to stay among the elves of Mirkwood and join with Legolas Greenleaf, for I find myself most hopelessly in love with him. I could never think of leaving him. I will not leave him." She said firmly, with the conviction of her feelings. Her heart lay open for all to see as tears slithered slowly along her high cheeks.
It was then that her eyes came to light on Legolas. "Think not, my love, that a title matters at all. That your station sways my feelings, that power could command my heart. I would love you no less were you nothing but a groomsman. I suspect you have thought that the motive for my affections bt ist is far from the truth, sweet prince. My heart is now and forever more yours. "
Again her words were directed at her father, anger lacing each and every one she uttered. "If you still will not see reason, father … if you will not yield to my heart and respect the choice that is mine to make, you may attempt to remove me to Gondor but I warn you now. Truss me and tie me if you will but t’will serve you not. In Gondor, among men, I will not live overly long. If I am to be denied my love for all my life long I see no reason to live. This I swear to you. I will pitch myself from the white wall of Minas Tirith to my death, my love’s name upon my lips as a prayer, as would be a curse upon you and all others of you ilk."
Legolas stood, eyes wide with disbelief as a myriad of emotions washed through him. Silence filled the room as he moved slowly, deliberately toward Falawyn, his eyes narrowing with each step taken. His lip curled in almost savage intensity, his features showing each and every emotion at once. Tension filled the room as the silence continued, his hardened face staring down into hers for what seemed like hours. And then naught but the sound of exhalations could be heard as his hand snaked around her waist, his arm crushing her to his chest as he delivered the most passionate of kisses known to elfdom, his lips parting to drink in the miracle of what had just happened. She loved him. She spoke it with her own sweet voice … she loved him and meant to stay at all cost. Both arms embracing her now, he poured every bit of relief and adoration into their kiss before moving his lips to her ear and whispering softly, “Amin mela lle, A'maelamin.” He pulled his face from hers allowing his fingers to trail and caress the beautiful face he had so feared losing. “I love you, my beloved.”
Tears welled in the eyes of the king who stood, moving to gently touch the shoulders of the oblivious lovers. His smiling eyes touched them both, his words loving and serene. “Shall I take it, then, that we should prepare for a wedding?”
Fal abh abhorred that the loving contact with her love had to be broken, the spell intruded upon. But if it were to speed their joining in anyway she would have given her own flesh for it. "Aye, my lord. I wish it with all that is in me." Divinity! I cannot keep myself from him! Her eyes broke contact with Aragorn's then as she tilted her head up silently pleading for more of Legolas' ardent kisses.
Ellekar stared at his daughter, his body wracked with pain as if he'd received a physical wound. Her words had struck as true as an arrow and now his skin was scoured raw, his mind torn open so much like the furrows of a well-tended field. His heart lay shattered as if trampled by the horseman of the Riddermark. Standing, he could not bring himself to gaze on her more and dropped his eyes before him. Turning, he strode from the sun chamber seeking solitude in his grief.
Aragorn watched with inward regret as his longtime friend moved with sadness and bitterness. He stood, knowing he must speak with the man so tormented, but turned just in time to see the lovers lock yet again in a passionate embrace. Eyeing Thranduil at the side, he nodded to the elder elf, happiness and warmth apparent in the gaze he bestowed upon his son and future daughter. Aragorn sighed contentedly knowing his work here had been completed. Now, following in the steps of his friend, he moved to finish that which remained.