Elven Love

Author's notes: I'm sorry if there are mistakes in the story. My mother tongue is German, but I tried to write this story in English. So.. if you find something that could be corrected, please don't hesitate to let me know… thanks!

Disclaimer: I do not own The Lord of the Rings. I do not own Mirkwood. And I - unfortunately - do not own Legolas. (If I'd own him, what makes you think I would share him with you? ggg*) I do, however, own Aelin, Nadan Enthrin, the Land of Namâree and Arthenuel

Rating: The story itself is NC-17… but nothing to 'worry' in this chapter. Hehe.

Elven Love

Chapter 1: Mirkwood

Somewhere in the land of Namâree

She saw leafs in golden and bronze colours. She saw trees, grown for hundreds of years. She saw those leafs falling from the trees and covering the ground. The forest looked like it had been carefully coated with a thick blanket of red-golden suede. Rays of light were breaking through the branches of the trees, filling the scene with a quite unreal atmosphere. She felt warm and welcome and let her spirit travel through this peaceful landscape. A very light breeze, like being touched by butterfly wings, brushed by her face. She deeply inhaled the scent of the forest as she heard the sound of a soft voice in the distant. She closed her eyes and levitated to the direction where the whispers were coming from. When she felt she was close she stopped and opened her eyes.

Never had she seen one of them in person before. Their lands were far from here, about a month to travel. She knew that their blood flows in her veins as well, but she never travelled far enough to come near the legendary elven lands.

She couldn't help but gaze in amazement. That voice… she wasn't sure at whom the whispers in that foreign language were directed at, but it sounded like the soft murmuring of a pure well. The words made no sense to her, but she was surprised how they were able to form images in her mind. She couldn't take her eyes off the figure standing before her in the sunlight. The tall and elegant body. The hair… a colour remembering her of intertwined strands of gold and silver. The eyes… dark and deep like the lakes in the Mountains of Namâree. If it would be possible for her spirit to blush, she would have blushed now. Because she was looking at the most fascinating male creature she had ever seen. He was one of the legendary elven folk. He was standing there, talking to the wind it seems.

Suddenly Aelin felt it was time to come back. She focussed her mind on her inner self and counted voiceless back from 10 to 1. Then she snapped out of her meditation, opening her eyes. Still she was puzzled by the clear vision of a somewhat handsome elf she just had. She leant back in her chair after extinguishing the candles around her and waited.

She had had that feeling that her full presence was necessary here now, so she was not surprised to hear knocks on her door. Her feelings never betrayed her… ever.

"Who is it?" she asked.

A bold male voice responded: "Witch, we need you in the village. Nadan Enthrin has been stabbed… it happened in the tavern."


That was what they always called her. Witch. Was it because of her heritage? Could it be the words of her grandmother had not been fairytales and she really had elven blood? Yes, she had certain talents. And she felt very close to mother nature. She talked to the elements. She could heal, and she sometimes could see a glimpse of the future. If she wanted she could also create energy to shield her or to push away an unwelcome attack by a drunken man. However, she did not have control over that, it just happened sometimes… mostly when she was somewhat in need for help an nobody else was around. She had the ability to let her spirit travel through time and space. Suddenly a memory from her former meditation flashed through her mind… "He" had talked to the elements also…

Aelin shook her head and cleared her head, then grabbed a small bag filled with herbs and tinctures from a nearby drawer. She opened the door and looked at the tall man before her. As she met his eyes he looked down to his feet. There is no good in looking into a witch's eyes too long, he might think.

He didn't speak a word, just went stepped on the small path and went ahead, carrying a torch with him to light the way. Aelin followed him. As she always did when they called for her. She lived alone half up the mountain above the village. She preferred to be alone. Alone with the forest and alone with mother nature. She didn't feel home amongst the village people.

After a while of silent walking she asked the man: "How did it happen?"

He was obviously nervous. "That's none of your business, witch".

"How!?" Aelin insisted to get an answer. "just tell me, and I won't…"

That alone seemed enough to scare the man so that he would willingly tell her everything she wanted to know. Aeligheighed. She didn't mean to frighten him, but unfortunately most of the people here thought she could curse their souls into eternal fire if she wanted to. So the man started to tell her:

"It was some stranger, you know. Black clothes, Black hood, Black horse. Came to the tavern and demanded to know about the wise elder who knows about the past and the future. Nadan was there also. The stranger nodded in his direction and said something that sounded like 'found what I've been looking for'. But that voice! It was like black ice. Cold and dark. The old man tried to escape, but the stranger stabbed him mercilessly. He must have thought Nadan's already dead, because he left and headed for the North. It happened too fast. Nobody was able to help…"

"Or nobody *wanted* to help…? Right? Nobody wanted to get in troubles, right!!!!???" Aelin was too angry to hold her voice low.

The answer was silence. And She also saw a glimpse of guilt on the man's face. Well, that is like people are here, she thought bitterly. All they do is to just mind their own business.

They finally arrived at the village and headed for the tavern. The small crowd at the tavs dos door indicated that there must have happened something quite interesting. She heard some of the people whispering "The witch is here, the witch is here.., take care not to look into her eyes!" Of course they had no clue that Aelin was able to hear what they were saying. Sometimes she thought she maybe could hear better than most of them. But she had never given any special thought to that fact. It was simply a trait of her partly elven roots.

She entered the tavern and the host - a short, fat man - guided her to a dark corner where the old Nadan Enthrin, the blacksmith, lay motionless. Blood was flowing from a wound in his stomach, which he had covered with his left hand. Nobody else was around, but she could almost feel people staring through the windows curiously.

"Nadan!" Aelin called his name softly. "Nadan! Can you hear me?"

For a moment his eyes fluttered and he barely nodded. "How could you get yourself into such a mess, old man!" She spoke with a low, but almost tender voice. Aelin tried not to show her very concern. The wound was too deep and Nadan had already lost too much blood. Fear touched her heart. Would she loose the only person she called friend today?

She fetched herbs and a bottle containing some green fluid from her bag and put Nadan's hand from his stomach. Then she cut open the heavy grey cloth that covered the wound with her dagger.

"Aelin… dear…" The old man whispered.

"Shhh…." She replied, "you must not talk now".

"Aelin… you need to find him… You need to tell him that the darkness is back…. the darkness… it comes…!"

She was cleaning his wound with the green fluid and a piece of pure white linen. Maybe it is not bad to distract him she thought.

"Whom must I find?" she asked, while crushing herbs - Shepherd's purse, Tormentil and Mistletoe - in a small mortar and mixing them with some fresh and soft grease before applying it to the d. Td. The herbs should help to stop the steady flow of blood.

"You must travel, Aelin…. Find him, find the elven man called Greenleaf. He knows the way to the golden forest of their folk… he knows..… Go… soon! The…. The darkness is near… so near…!!!"

While he was whispering that words she was dressing his wound with some more white linen. She could feel his soul slipping away. Aelin shook her head and put her hands on the now limb body of Nadan. She murmured some old words of healing, that had been known within her family for generations. But she could not help him anymore. He has passed away.

She was not able to shed a tear, though pain was darting through her , it felt like being hit by a rusty sword. Too much has happened within the last hour. She has lost her only friend, but she couldn't cry. Actually he had been more like an uncle to her. And he was there for her when her grandmother finally lost her fight against that fever… now she was all alone.

She lowered her head and tried to get a clear thought. Should she do what old Nadan told her? Should she leave her so called home? Would the elves look at her the same way the humans look at her? Here it was obvious that they tolerated her but didn't accept her, for she was not entirely human. Would it be the same with the folk that represented the other parts of her self?

Aelin, the half-elven witch made her decision. She turned to the host, who had been cleaning the counter nervously, and ordered him to arrange a proper funeral for Nadan. She put some coins from her purse on the counter and added, that the village of Niarne does not longer have to be afraid of the witch in the mountains. She will go away. The host looked at her surprised, but then nodded and took the money. "Nadan will have a proper funeral". That was the only thing he said. Aelin nodded too and then walked out.

A few days later it was rumoured amongst the village people that the witch has left the next morning after the old blacksmith died, riding to the east on her red brown horse, clad in a black tunic, breeches and light boots, as well as a cape in the dark-green colour of the forest.

Aelin was on her way to find the elven man called Greenleaf.

About 5 weeks later:

Somewhere deep within a land called Mirkwood a tall and slender man stood in the forest and talked to the wind. He loved the moments when he felt one with the elements.

"Legolas!"

The man turned around, raising an eyebrow at the young man who was disturbing his precious quiet moment.

"Your respected precense is required, Legolas. There is a slight problem…"

Legolas sighed and followed Arthenuel. Sometimes he wished, he could simply leave his duties behind and just travel throthe the lands and be free like the wind.
When they finally reached the great hall, he was quite amused to find a female person cursing at the guards.

"Get your dirty hands off me!" the woman pushed away the hands of one elf who was trying to hold her back.

"I *demand* to know where that Greenleaf guy is!! I know he *is* here!" Currently he could only see her back. A long braid of dark-brown hair shimmered on the dark green material her cape was made of.

Arthenuel looked at Legolas andd "Wd "We picked her up at the border. She seems to be quite fond to see you, Greenleaf". Then he grinned at his friend. "Anything I should know of…?"

Legolas raised an eyebrow at Arthenuel again, stepped forward to tap on the woman's shoulder. "Now, Lady, may I know what is your business with the person you demand to see?"

The woman's body stiffened. That voice!! She turned around, and opened her eyes in awe. "Y… Y….You!!" she stuttered.

Legolas tried hard to suppress a giggle. He had never seen this woman before, but she had demanded to see him. His name meant greenleaf in human tongue. And then, when he tried to talk to her she just stood there with her mouth open, pointing at him and saying "you". Somehow he thought he must have an insect crawling over his head.

"I'm sorry, Lady, but we have not met before. May I ask…"

The woman finally seemed to gather herself and come to her senses again. "I'm sorry" she said. -And I have just made a complete fool of myself - she thought.

"My name is Aelin. I come from the land of Namâree. I have to find the elf called Greenleaf. It's important. I have a message from Nadan Enthrin".

The land of Namâree… Legolas nodded. He had known that sooner or later the wise old man would send an important message. But he was quite surprised about the messenger. He couldn't rembember seeing her before. But somehow she must have known him, according to her reaction. Legolas shrugged and looked at the young lady, named Aelin. She didn't look like an average human girl. She was not very tall, her body was not too thin, very feminine from what he could tell. She had long, dark-brown hair and hazel eyes.

All together nothing spectacular. But then there was her aura. He could sense something special around her. Also some of her gestures reminded him of his own kind. He came to the conclusion, that Aelin must have at least partly elven roots. Quite interesting, he thought. And she is very pretty too, a strange voice seemed to whisper in his head.

"You have found the person you are looking for", he finally said. "May I introduce myself… my name is Legolas. Greenleaf in human tongue".

Aelin still was not sure if it was another vision, or if he was standing there in front of her really. He looked just like back then in her meditation before she was called to the tavern to help Nadan. Aelin closed her eyes and opened them again, and he was still there.

"Sure you are hungry after having such a long travel" she heard his soft voice say. "Would you please be my guest and take dinner with me."

Aelin nodded and followed the young elven girl who showed her the way to her room.

TBC