The Price of Pride

Title: The Price of Pride
Author: Ariel Tachna
Author’s e-mail: arieltachna@yahoo.com
Type: Romance/Angst
Pairings: Arwen/Legolas, (Aragorn/Legolas, Arwen/Aragorn in later chapters)
Rating: NC-17 in later chapters
Warning: None
Beta: Donna (Thank you so much!)
Disclaimer: I didn’t make them up. Tolkien did. I just play with them. Seriously, all characters are the property of the Tolkien estate and/or New Line studios. No profit is being made from this fic.
Feedback: Yes, please! I live for feedback, but this is my first so be a little nice.
Archiving: OEAM, galadhrim.net, aff.net, any others, just ask
Summary: 200 years after his arrival in Valinor, Legolas thinks bac tho those he loved and lost, and wonders if he could have done things differently.
Author’s Notes: Thanks to Maggie Honeybite who generously gave me permission to use the silver and gold ribbons from her story “Sweetness and Gall” in my story. Maggie’s stories can be found at http://www.ithilas.com/maggie/maggie.html Thanks also to Ezra’s Persian Kitty for providing me information about the meanings of various flowers. The conversation between Erestor and Glorfindel in Chapter 4 makes reference to her story “The Art of Miscommunication” which can be found at www.libraryofmoria.com or at www.fanfiction.net

Elvish translations
Caun – prince Caun nín – my prince
Caun-neth – young prince Pen-neth – young one
Sell nín – my daughter Meleth – love
Meldir – friend (m) Hîr nín – my Lord
Hiril nín – my Lady Cuivië – awakening
Mellon nín – my friend Tolo – come


Prologue

I walk the shores of Valinor, alone with my memories and my grief. Though it is a struggle here, I keep track of the days, marking, not the passage of time, but the anniversaries of the days that mattered most. The first time I saw Arwen. The day I met Aragorn. Seeing them meet in Rivendell, though they saw me not. The day the Fellowship set out on its quest. The day the One Ring was destroyed. The day Aragorn was crowned King. The day he made Arwen his Queen. The deaths of Merry and Pippin. The death of Gimli.

Most of my thoughts center on Arwen. Her fate is the only one I could have changed. In later years, it was often said that all who looked upon Arwen Undomiel, Evenstar of her people, Queen of Gondor, fell immediately under her spell, so great was her grace and beauty. Only Gimli, son of Gloin, with his great love and admiration for Galadriel had been immune to Arwen’s spell. I took great pains to remind her that I had also resisted. Of course, she’d been a babe-in-arms when I first met her, which accounted for my indifference at the time. The Valar know I fell under her spell quickly enough later, a spell that has haunted me these 3000 years.


Chapter 1

I remember that first meeting like it was yesterday. I arrived in Imladris on the eve of my 500th birthday, expecting to be received there as I had been received in Lothlorien and as my father received visiting dignitaries at his court. Not that I considered myself a dignitary, but I was the son of a King and had grown used to a certain amount of fanfare. What I found, instead, was chaos. Elves had seen to my horse and to those of my party, but nowhere did I see Lord Elrond or any of his aides. I wandered toward the Hall of Fire where I found the twins, Elladan and Elrohir, Elrond’s sons, sitting in the shadows. I called a greeting, to which they absently replied. I was surprised. We were friends of old, the twins and I, from their time in the Mirkwood and the time all three of us had spent in Lothlorien.

“What is going on?” I asked, beginning to worry about my friends.

“Amme is in labor” Elladan began.

“It is not going well,” Elrohir continued, finishing his brother’s thought. “Ada is with her, but…”

Just then, a shout rang out from the hallway. I watched the brothers jump up and run toward their parents’ rooms. I trailed behind them, feeling out of place. We arrived at the door just as Elrond opened it and came out. “Amme?” the twins cried in unison.

“She will be fine,” Elrond said, weariness obvious in his voice.

“And the babe?” Elrohir asked, afraid to hear the answer.

“She, too, will be fine.”
“That is good news, indeed,” I interjected, speaking for the first time. I didn’t really want to interrupt, but I felt that I needed to make my presence known.

Elrond looked beyond his sons, seeing for the first time that I stood in the hallway. “Forgive me, caun-neth. I was not there to greet you properly.”

I gave a slight bow. “There is nothing to forgive, Hîr nín. Under the circumstances, I can hardly complain.”

“When can we see her?” Elladan interjected, impatient with the formalities. His only concern was his mother and sister.

“Your naneth needs time to rest and recover, but if you will be patient a few minutes longer, I will let you see your sister.

“Legolas let me…” Elrond continued, turning toward me.

“No, Hîr nín,” I interrupted. “See to your family. We have traveled leisurely from Lorien. You need not worry for me. In fact, I should like to see the babe as well, if you would permit it.”

“Of course,” Elrond replied. He disappeared into the bedroom. We could hear his voice from the hallway as he murmured to his wife, then the sound of a baby fussing. The cries were calmed quickly and Elrond reappeared at the door, a tiny bundle cradled gently in his arms. Elladan and Elrohir rushed to their father’s side, peering down at the tiny child. “What will we call her, Ada?” they asked, almost in unison.

“Arwen,” Elrond replied. “Arwen Undomiel, for she shall be the Evenstar of her people.” Elrond’s voice changed as he spoke, taking on the distant tone of one who was caught by the Foresight.

“Ada?” Elrohir said softly, fear in his voice. “What do you mean, Ada?”

Elrond blinked a few times, clearing away the vision, forcing his eyes back to his sons’ worried faces. “We must take very good care of your sister, my sons,” Elrond said, smiling gently. “She will have a very important role to play when next we face the Shadow.”

“We will teach her, Ada. She will be the best warrior in Imladris,” Elladan exclaimed.

“She will be ready, Ada. She will defeat the Shadow,” Elrohir chimed in.

Elrond shook his head indulgently. “Teach her, my sons, for she should certainly be able to protect herself against what comes, but remember, too, that there are more ways than one to aid in any quest. Do not tell her what I have told you, any of you,” he instructed, his gaze sweeping to include me. I had begun to feel very uncomfortable with this family scene, but could not see a way to extract myself now. “She must fulfill her fate in her own way, prepared by what we can teach her, but open to every path. Even the very wisest cannot see all ends. Now, Legolas, would you like to see my daughter?”

“Please, Hîr nín,” I replied. “I am not sure I have ever seen one so young. My father claims I was the last one born in the Greenwood, and none were born in Lorien while I was there. I saw elflings there, but they were all older than this.” I moved closer to Elrond, examining the sleeping child’s face, searching for some sign of the greatness Elrond foresaw. All I saw was a wrinkled, red face, eyes closed, lips pursed. I said all the right things, gave all the appropriate compliments, but in my heart of hearts, I wondered what was so special about this child.


I stayed in Imladris for fifty years, learning what I could from Elrond, as my father had decreed. I watched Arwen grow in those years, watched her brothers teach her to defend herself, watched her father teach her wisdom and healing. I watched her, but I never truly saw her. All I saw was the babe she had been, with the wrinkled red face. Then, my duties to my father recalled me to Mirkwood, and I did not see her again for almost a century.


Chapter 2

I returned to Imladris as my father’s emissary, eager to see my friends again, to see Imladris again. Eager to escape the shadow that had begun to encroach on my home. Elrond was there to greet me this time, as was befitting an emissary of the King. We said all the right words, went through all the formalities. Then, Elrond offered to show me to my rooms. As if he needed to. I knew Imladris almost as well as I knew the telain of the Mirkwood. I consented, nonetheless, for I felt in his gaze that he wanted to speak to me in private.

We wWe walked through the halls of Imladris in companionable silence. I waited for Elrond to speak, knowing he would do so only when he was ready. We reached the doors to my rooms before he finally turned to me. “You will not recognize my daughter when you see her,” he told me in a solemn voice. “Be her friend, Legolas, but do not lose your heart to her. She would never intentionally hurt anyone, but she is not for you.”

Before I could reply, Elrond turned and walked away. I was surprised at the time. I was almost 650 years old, 500 years past my majority, and I had never lost my heart to anyone. I had taken the occasional lover – what Elf my age had not – but those affairs had always been about passion, never about love. Then I wondered why Elrond was warning me. Arwen had not yet reached her majority. Surely he couldn’t think I would take advantage of an elfling. ‘But he has the gift of Foresight,’ I told myself. ‘Perhaps he has seen her future and warns everyone away.’ To this day, I do not know exactly what Elrond had seen or what prompted him to make his warning. I promised myself that I would heed his advice, even as I told myself it was needlessly given. I bathed and changed, returning to the Halls of Fire for the banquet that would be served in my honor. That was when I saw her, truly saw her for the first time. Elrond’s advice never stood a chance against the beauty before me. My breath caught in my throat. My heart turned over in my chest, and I was lost. In that moment, I would have done anything she requested of me, made any sacrifice just to see her smile at me.

“Legolas,” she cried, delight in her voice as she flew across the room, throwing herself in my arms. “You are back.”

I closed my arms around her lithe form, staring down at the delicate features, the dark eyes, silky skin, red lips curved up in a smile. The press of her body, fully clothed, against mine was more arousing than any intimate touch from any lover I had ever known. I could feel a stirring in my loins so I drew back, not wanting her to realize what I was feeling.

“Let me look at you,” I said, using that as an excuse. Arwen stepped back and smiled, twirling around so I could see all of her. I’d left her an elfling. Though she still had a few weeks to go before she reached her majority, I saw a fully-grown Elf standing before me. My eyes drank in the sight of her. She wore a gown of red crushed velvet that hugged her curves in all the right places, accentuating the tuck of her waist, the flare of her hips, the swell of her breasts. Her dark hair flowed down her back, unbound, unbraided, a child’s hairstyle. It should have been a reminder to me of her age, her status as a minor still. Instead, I imagined that hair spread out over my pillow, loosened from its braids for a lover, even a mate. Fortunately for my sanity, Elladan and Elrohir chose that moment to interrupt, teasing Arwen about showing off, making her turn on them and stick her tongue out. Though the sight of that pink tongue between ruby lips sent another shot of arousal through me, the look on her face, and on the faces of the twins, brought me back to my surroundings and the reality of the situation. It reminded me as well of Elrond’s warning.

Could I have done what he asked of me if I had tried harder then, when my heart was mostly still mine, and only my passion was engaged? Could I have avoided temptation and thus heartbreak? I ask myself those questions every year on her birthday. I have been asking for 3000 years, but I still have no answer to those questions. I asked one other question for many years. Did I wish I had not fallen in love with her? To that question I have an answer. No, I do not wish it, for she brought much joy into my life along with the heartbreak. There are many things I would change in my life, but falling in love with Arwen is not one of them.

Chapter 3

My father had sent me to Imladris to discuss a trading arrangement that would hopefully benefit both realms. Thranduil wouldn’t leave Mirkwood, nor would he deal personally with Elrond, but some means of communication was necessary. I was that means. Those duties required a certain amount of my time in meetings with Elrond and his councilors. I wondered at the pair of them. Dark-haired, serious Erestor and blond, playful Glorfindel. They were complete opposites, but they complimented each other perfectly, in many, many ways, I later learned, and their loyalty to Elrond was unquestionable.

I spent my free time with Arwen or the twins. I often joined the twins at the soldiers’ baks dks during the day and walked the gardens with Arwen in the evenings. The twins and I sparred playfully on the training grounds, challenging each other to mock duels and archery contests. I usually won the archery contests. One of the twins usually won the duels. Arwen would come and watch sometimes, dressed as she always was, in a simple gown. I did my best to win when she was there, wanting to impress her with my skill. Then, one day, she appeared in leathers and asked to join in. I almost refused. She was an Elf-maid, after all. What did she know of the warrior’s art? Her brothers’ reaction stopped me before I could make that mistake.

“Now you are really in for a challenge,” Elrohir told me with a smile.

I raised an eyebrow, surprised, but before I could speak, Elladan added, “We have been teaching her all her life. Surely you remember from when you were here before.”

“Yes, of course,” I replied. Now that they mentioned it, I remembered, but I hadn’t paid any attention to Arwen in those days. “Are you good, then, mellon-nín?” I asked her.

“Good enough,” came her saucy reply.

“Show me, then,” I challenged. I don’t know what I expected, but I didn’t expect the hiss of her sword as it left the scabbard. I didn’t expect the grace and power in her stance as she faced me. I have seen many warriors in my long years, powerful, fearsome controlled, but only Arwen and, much later, the Shieldmaiden of Rohan could ever make the deadly dance beautiful as well. I wasn’t carrying a sword, but I had my knives, which had always served me well. I reached behind me and drew them, mimicking Arwen’s battle-ready stance. The first strike of her curved sword against my knives took me aback. I’d underestimated her, underestimated the force she could bring to bear against me. I began to see her in a different light as she pressed her attack. Elf-maid she was, but no soft, helpless maid. I was able to parry the blows, but couldn’t get enough of a respite to press an attack of my own. Even her brothers had never challenged me so.ch tch to my chagrin, one of my knives quickly went flying from my grasp. I blocked a blow with the other, but the sword slipped and cut my hand.

Arwen immediately dropped her sword. “Legolas, I am so sorry,” she cried, her dismay evident in her voice. “Let me help you.” She grabbed my uninjured hand and dragged me toward the Houses of Healing, ignoring my protests that it was just a nick, that I would cleanse and treat it in my own rooms. I was protesting out of form, not out of any real desire to escape. The feel of her hand in mine was sending glorious tingles up my arm. I could barely feel the pain from the cut with the joy of her touch coursing through me.

We reached the Houses of Healing and Arwen drew me to a basin where she could tend to the cut. She washed the blood away gently, then stared oddly at my hand.

“What is it?” I asked.

“The bleeding has stopped,” she replied.

“Is that not good?” I still didn’t understand the look on her face.

“Of course it is good, but a cut like this should have bled longer.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, being no healer myself, so I sat silently while she put a salve on the cut and bandaged my hand. The tingles from her touch continued throughout her ministrations. She let me leave, finally, with an admonition to rest until lunch. She was every inch her father’s daughter in that moment. I didn’t even think of disobeying. Even with the salve, my hand was hurting now that she was no longer touching me, so I retired to my rooms. I’d meant to sit and read, but I quickly fell asleep. When I awoke several hours later, my hand felt normal. I was surprised, but I undid the bandage to check the wound. Unbroken, unblemished skin met my eyes when I removed the dressing. I shrugged my shoulders, wondering what was in the salve that Arwen had used and how to get the recipe for the healers at home. Between fighting the spiders and the Orcs from Dol Guldur, we always had wounded in Mirkwood who could benefit from a salve that healed injuries in a matter of hours.

I left the bandage off when I went to lunch. Arwen saw my unbound hand from across the room and came to my side. “Why did you remove the dressing?” she asked, grabbing my hand to examine the wound. She looked at my hand, then looked at me, a puzzled frown on her face. “I have never seen anything like this,” she murmured. She dragged me toward the head table where Elrond was seated.

“Ada,” she called, “look at this.” She showed him my hand.

“What am I looking at, sell nín?”

“Just a few hours ago, his hand was cut. I caught him with my sword when we were sparring. It was an accident. I treated it, like you taught us, but now it’s healed.”

“You have a remarkable healing ability, caun-neth,” Elrond observed, looking at me.

“Hîr nín, I thought it was the salve that Arwen used. True, I heal quickly, but no more so than any Elf.”

“I must think on this,” Elrond said, more to himself than to us. “Enjoy your lunch.” We started away. “Legolas,” he called after me, “rest your hand this afternoon even though it appears healed. We do not want to take any risks.”

“Aye, Hîr nín,” I answered.

As I was ed fed from the training grounds and didn’t really want to return to my rooms, I took to the gardens instead. As I’d both hoped and feared, Arwen soon joined me. Her nearness was affecting me more than I cared to let her see, and as I was wearing leggings and a tunic, she would be seeing far too much if we stayed where we were. I cast around for a reason to get us both moving. It had been almost a hundred years since I had last been in Imladris. Surely something had changed enough to justify a walk through the grounds.

“What is your favorite place in the valley?” I asked Arwen. It was a way to get the conversation moving toward exploring the valley.

“There ismalsmall waterfall up behind the house,” Arwen told me, pointing. “It is not as spectacular as most so most Elves never bother to seek it out.”

“I do not think I have ever explored that area of the valley. If I did, I certainly did not find your waterfall. Will you share it with me?” There. An excuse to go scrambling around in the woods where I would be better able to ignore and hide my steadily growing arousal.

“Of course. I am always glad to go there. Tolo.” And she grabbed my hand. This was not starting out as I had envisioned it. I wanted to put some distance between us, not close it. Fortunately, the terrain was rough enough that walking hand in hand soon became impossible.

I followed her up a barely visible path. I was glad that she was leading me. Now that I knew the path was there, I had no problem following it, but I doubt I would have been able to find it without her. It took us almost thirty minutes to reach the waterfall she had spoken of. When we reached it, she settled almost immediately into what I soon learned was her favorite spot to sit. I remained standing a short distance away. My arousal had faded, but I dared not risk it returning from her close proximity.

“What do you think?” she asked, shyly.

I regarded the waterfall and the surrounding area carefully. As she had said, the waterfall was not as spectacular as many of those that graced the valley, but the water sang sweetly as it tumbled over the rocks. “It is lovely,” I replied, closing my eyes to revel in the touch of the mist from the spray on my face. I have always been a sensualist, relishing touch and taste and sound. I was so caught in the feeling that my other senses were less focused than usual. When I opened my eyes, Arwen was standing directly in front of me, a look I dared not interpret as desire in her eyes. Before I could pull away or try to diffuse the situation, she whispered, “You are beautiful, pen-valthennen.” She stretched up, pressed her lips to mine, and ran.

I stood, speechless, and watched her go. Confusion reigned in my mind and heart. That was the chastest kiss I had ever received, yet its impact on me was incredible. Age aside, Arwen’s inexperience was obvious in that kiss and her flight. She had not even waited to see my reaction, which might have been a good thing, given the desire for her that I was already fighting. What stuck in my mind, though, was the endearment she had used. My golden one. Usually, she used my name, or perhaps called me caun nín, my prince. This was different. I started slowly back toward the house, still trying to make sense of my feelings. In the back of my mind, Elrond’s warning echoed again. Surely he would not oppose his daughter in matters of the heart. I pushed the warning aside as I felt again the gentle pressure of Arwen’s lips against mine in my mind. She had kissed my cheek when she was a small elfling but had not done so since my return. That had to mean something. Perhaps she was beginning to return the feelings I had for her. Perhaps we could have a future together.

I did not see Arwen when I returned to the house, and she was absent from dinner as well. Elrond examined my hand again in her absence and pronounced me fit. Then, the twins invited me to join them on patrol the next day. I saw no reason not to go so I agreed. We were gone for almost a week. When we returned, a summons from Elrond awaited me.


Chapter 4

I walked into Elrond’s study that day, blithely unaware that my life was yet again about to be turned upside down. I found Elrond sitting at his desk, a worried frown on his face.

“What is it, Hîr nín?” I asked. “What troubles you?” If I had known the answer befI asI asked the question, I would have run, as far and as fast as I could.

“My daughter has asked for a favor,” Elrond told me softly.

“Of course,” I replied. “I will do whatever she wants.” I sealed my fate with those words, without even knowing it.

“I was afraid you would say that,” Elrond answered with a sigh. “I told you to guard your heart, pen-neth, but you did not listen. I had hoped to avoid this heartache.”

“What heartache?” I asked, still blissfully ignorant. “What could Arwen possibly want that could cause me heartache?”

“She reaches her majority in a few days. Her Cuivië will take place on the night of her birthday. She has asked for you.”

Delight was my first response. Delight that I would be her first lover, that I would teach her all the ways two people could please one another. Then I realized. “But that would mean…”

“Aye,” Elrond replied. “That would mean that there could never be a bond between you. She would be your lover, but never your love.”

“You cannot ask this of me,” I whispered.

“I wish I did not have to, but you must understand, Legolas. Even if I denied her, even if you deny her, you still cannot have the bond you desire.”

“Wh…why not?” I stuttered. “Mirkwood is not Imladris, but…”

Elrond interrupted me before I could continue. “This is notut yut you. This is not about your father and me. This is about Arwen. Do you remember when she was born? I saw the future, holding her there in the hallway, outside her mother’s room, as I have seen it again, every time I have looked. Do you remember, Legolas?” he asked me.

“Aye,” I whispered. “I remember.”

“Arwen’s heart must remain unattached, for her heart is the key to victory over the Shadow. Whether she will give her heart when the time comes is her choice, but she must be free to make that choice at the right time. You cannot bond to her, Legolas. I told you to guard your heart.”

I fled Elrond’s office for the peace of the gardens. When my footsteps slowed and I began to recover my composure, I looked up to see Erestor moving quietly among the well-tended beds. He had a small collection of flowers in his hand.

“You look surprised, caun-neth, to see me gathering flowers.”

“A little, I admit.”

“Flowers say many things. The act of giving is great in itself, but thewerswers can also speak for you if you have not the words to speak yourself.”

“I do not understand.”
ach ach flower has a meaning, Legolas. You choose the ones that say what you cannot say. Take this bouquet for example,” Erestor said, holding out a collection of flowers. “This one, the variegated tulip, says that the recipient has beautiful eyes. The scarlet geranium tells of comfort, received or given. The althea says I am consumed by love. The ivy that binds them together promises eternal fidelity.”

“Do many people know the meanings of flowers?”

“The knowledge is there for those who choose to look, but most do not.”

“Thank you, Master Erestor. You have given me much to think about.” I started away when he called me back. “Legolas, I can help you if you will trust me. I am considered something of an expert in the fine art of communicating with flowers.”

A laugh interrupted our conversation. Glorfindel came to Erestor’s side and took the bouquet from his hand. “The art of miscommunication, you mean.”

“Was it my fault that you did not speak my language?” Erestor shot back.

“Beautiful eyes, comfort, consumed by love, eternal fidelity. Very nice,eth.eth. I love you, too,” Glorfindel said with a smile. “You can trust him to send your message, pen-neth, but the person receiving it must also know to understand.”

“She cannot know. I can never speak of what I feel.”

“Speak, perhaps no, buu knu know what could happen if you keep this inside you. Trust us to keep your secret and to help you express what you feel,” Glorfindel urged.

I hesitated, still struggling with the reality of my situation. Until a few hours earlier, I had imagined a very different future, despite Elrond’s warning. Now I knew I couldn’t love Arwen, not openly the way I wanted to, and I couldn’t court her so there would be not gifts, of flowers or otherwise, just to be giving gifts, but there would be times, like for her birthday, when I could give her flowers. She might never understand the message I was sending with the flowers I gave, but neither would I be living a lie, at least not completely. I would be telling her what I felt, just not in ways she would understand. I could keep my promise to Elrond and be true to my heart. I took a deep breath.

“You will keep my st?” t?”

“We have said we would. No one will hear of your feelings from us.”

“I love an Elf-maid who will be forever denied to me. I can be her friend. I may even be allowed to be her lover for a time, but I will never be allowed the bond I would form with her if I could.”

Glorfindel and Erestor were silent as I spoke, but I could see that they were trying to work out the identity of my beloved.

Finally Erestor spoke. “Arwen has chosen you for her Cuivië. Why did you not refu

“Because Lord Elrond had a vision of Arwen’s future and it does not include me. If I accept, I have at least some place in her life.”

“There will be flowers in her rooms that night. We will help you pick them. They will say all that you could wish.” We spent several hours that day choosing the perfect flowers, some of which I had never known before walking the garden with Erestor and Glorfindel.


Chapter 5

I spent the morning of Arwen’s birthday hunting with Elrohir. We didn’t catch much, but that wasn’t the point. I needed the escape. There was too much going on in the Last Homely House for me to be comfortable there, too many people who knew that I would be the one with Arwen that night trying to give me advice. It was only natural, their comments. I’d made enough of the same kind of comments to others soon to be in my position, though I never did after that day. I told myself that they were jealous and they most probably were. Arwen was the most beautiful Elf-maid of the Third Age, maybe of any Age, descended from the most powerful Elves still in Middle Earth. She was all that was desirable and, that night, she would be mine. I wasn’t inexperienced, but I couldn’t begin to imagine what that night would hold.

We returned in time for lunch. Elrohir joined the celebration, but I didn’t want to face the comments so I asked for a tray in my rooms. I spent a long time preparing for the evening’s celebrations. I soaked in the tub until the water was cold. I’d picked out the robes I wanted to wear that evening, but I found myself second-guessing my choices. Fortunately, Elladan chose that moment to join me.

“I have come to lend you support, meldir,” he said cheerfully.

“I am a fool,” I told him as I stood at the armoire contemplating my wardrobe.

“You are only now realizing this?” Elladan asked jokingly.

“I am serious, Ell,” I replied, turning to him with the robes in my hand. “I am giving her what she wants and condemning myself to living a lie.”

Elladan gaped at me. “Are you telling me…?”

“I love her.”

“Then why are you doing this? Why did you not refuse?”

“Because she asked for me and because your father told me he would refuse my suit regardless of my decision about tonight.”

“Why would he refuse your suit? I would think that you and Arwen would be a perfect match.”

“You would think,” I replied cynically. “Do you remember his vision about Arwen being key to fighting the Shadow?” Elladan nodded. “Well, apparently, her choice of whom to love has a role to play, and I am not allowed to interfere with that.”

“Mellon-nín,” Elladan said, pulling me into his embrace. “I am sorry.”

“So am I,” I replied sadly, “but at least I will have something of her. I will not be allowed to court her, but for tonight, at least, I will be allowed to love her.”

“You will always hold a place in her heart, you know. She will not forget tonight and it need not stop with tonight. As long as you do not speak of your feelings or try to turn it into a courtship, you can remain her lover until she finds the one she is meant to bond with. It is not perfect, but as you said, it is som

“But so much less than my heart desires. Ai, Elbereth. Help me with my braids, Ell. I have never been able to put lover’s braids in my own hair.”

“You are not supposed to be able to, Legolas. That is why they are called lover’s braids.”

I glared at him. “Just do it so I can get dressed.”

Elladan started work on my braids, interspersing the beads and the silver ribbons that indicated my status that evening. The Imladris Elves had a tradition for celebrations. Silver ribbons for those seeking a partner, gold for those already pledged, for the evening or longer. Then, he helped me into the silvery robes I had chosen, and my thoughts were drawn back to the matter at hand. I noticed as I glanced at Elladan that his elegant braids sported silver ribbons. I didn’t expect it to take long for him to find a partner.

When my companion deemed me fit for polite company, we left my rooms and made our way to the Hall of Fire where the celebration would begin. As the evening wore on, it would spill into the gardens and beyond, but for now we gathered to feast.

Though it was no secret whom Arwen had chosen, tradition required her to appear to search among the crowd for a suitable partner. Thus the silver ribbons in my hair. The choice of partnfor for a Cuivië was never left to chance, but appearances were at least maintained. To this end, I was seated with other visiting Elves from Mirkwood and Lorien. I made desultory conversation with three of the Galadhrim I knew from my visits there. Haldir, Rumil and Orophin, adopted sons of the Lord and Lady of the Golden Wood, were, if not my close friends, certainly more than passing acquaintances. They were also, quite possible, the only ones in the room who didn’t know that I was Arwen’s choice. As the end of the feast drew near, they began to speculate on her choice and on the delights awaiting the Elf she chose.

“Look at her,” Rumil said. “She is enough to stir the lust of any Elf.” I certainly agreed with that. Arwen was a delight to the senses in her cream colored gown that contrasted so starkly with her dark hair, braided, like mine, in lover’s braids adorned with silver ribbons. Just the sight of those ribbons was enough to send desire trembling through me.

“Aye, I envy the Elf she has chosen for tonight. To be the first to taste such sweetness,” Orophin sighed.

“There is more to the Lady than meets the eye,” I interrupted, perturbed by the turn in the conversation. Though none could deny her beauty, least of all me, I resented seeing her objectified by these two who knew so little about her.

“Perhaps,” Rumil replied, “but who cares when she is what meets the eye?”

“Insolent pup,” Haldir growled, reading the stony look in my eyes. I was glad he’d intervened. Rumil would accept the scolding from his brother, but most likely not from me. “Tell us about her, caun nín, for we know little of the Lady in the Golden Wood.”

“She is very much her father’s daughter,” I answered, searching for a way to talk about her without giving too much away. Confiding in Elladan and by extension in Elrohir was one thing – they were my best friends. Confiding in the Galadhrim was something totally different. “Both warrior and healer.”

“Warrior?” Orophin scoffed.

“Do not mock until you have seen her,” I countered. “I said the same until she disarmed me. She cannot best me in archery, but her skill at swordplay is exceptional.”

“Strange that one so fair should learn such things,” Haldir observed.

It was not my place to reveal Elrond’s predictions. I was saved from replying by the end of the feast. Elrond invited everyone outside where the dancing would beginnstrnstrels set up to one side, led by the infamous Lindir. Elves began to pair off for the dancing. I trailed behind the others, having no desire to dance with anyone besides my lovely Arwen, but it would be hours yet before she would approach me. I would have to endure watching her in the arms of others until then.

Now that the feast was over, I could rejoin Elrohir and Elladan. I hoped Elladan had held his tongue about my feelings, but I didn’t think it likely. He wouldn’t gossip openly, but he’d never kept secrets from his brother. Elrohir’s sympathetic look when I joined them told me that my secret was secret no more, at least not from him. He would say nothing, of course, but their presence was a balm to my soul. I could wait out the evening in their company without the bawdy comments I would probably hear elsewhere in the crowd.

The twins endeavored to amuse me with pithy comments on the ribbons chosen by various Elves. Who must have had a fight with whom, for why else would a certain Elf be wearing silver ribbons? What might the gold ribbons in another Elf’s hair mean? Who was he promised to when no one knew anything of a relationship? Their light-hearted gossip took the edge off my nerves. I was able at last to relax and enjoy the festive atmosphere. Finally I could tolerate the lustful glances cast Arwen’s way with some equanimity. She was beautiful, after all. An Elf would have to be blind not to desire her, but tonight she would choose me. I was the one with the right to stroke her silky hair, caress her pale skin, make her moan with passion for me alone. Yes, I could afford to be patient with the looks and the comments cast in her direction. Tonight, she would be mine.

I was still naïve enough not to consider the cost I would pay and in truth, I paid little for many, many years. Until she met Aragorn. But that was not for more than two and a half millennia.

In the end, I danced a few of the dances. After all, I had silver ribbons in my hair. Even though I wasn’t really available to anyone except Arwen, appearances had to be maintained. After what seemed like an eternity – yes, even immortals can feel the time drag when waiting for a special moment – Celebrian came to my side.

“Hiril nín,” I said, bowing.

“Grant me a dance, caun-neth,” she murmured. I could no more refuse the Lady of Imladris than I could have refused Arwen so I followed her into the swirl of color on the grass. She was silent as we began to dance, but I knew Celebrian. She had sought me out for a reason. I waited patiently for her to explain.

“I do not have to tell you what an important rite this is in the life of an Elfling. You will take good care of my daughter, will you not, Legolas?”

“Of course, Hiril nín.” I could feel the blush spreading up my cheeks to the of of my ears. I had no qualms about the evening, but discussing the object of my desire with her mother was disconcerting.

“Good,” Celebrian replied. “She will find you soon. Enjoy the night, pen-neth.”

There was no way to reply to that without further embarrassing myself so I just nodded and bowed to the Lady as the dance came to an end. I was making my way back to the twins when the voice that haunted my dreams spoke from behind me. “Caun nín.” My prince. I knew that she spoke my title, that her words were a courtesy, not an endearment, but they resonated in my soul nonetheless. I turned to meet her eyes. They sparkled with life, with excitement, perhaps even with passion.

“Hiril nín,” I replied with a bow. She heard my words as a courtesy, but they were my vow to her. She was and would always be my lady.

“You have not danced with me tonight.”

“I have been remiss,” I replied, “though you have not lacked for partners.”

“I have not had the partner I desire.”

I didn’t know, I still don’t know if she chose those words deliberately, for there were no set words she had to say to indicate her choice, but deliberate or not, their effect on me was immediate. I sent grateful thanks to the Valar that I was wearing robes, not my usual tunic and leggings. The robes hid the arousal caused by her words. “Then we must rectify that situation immediately.” I choked the words out of a mouth suddenly dry with nerves. I held out my hand to her and she took it, her fingers in mine causing the now familiar tingles. I had no idea how I was going to manage a dance with her, let alone several. Now that she had approached me, she would remain at my side until it was time for us to retire to her chambers. Erestor and Glorfindel had left the celebration after the feast and had returned a few minutes before I danced with Celebrian, so I knew that all was in readiness for us within. Now it was only a matter of time and my self-control.