Adult-FanFiction.org : Lord of the Rings

The Last Wood Elf	By : Mel99Moe Category: +Third Age > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 4599 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any characters or places. No money is being made from this story.

Chapter List
- 34
- 35
- 36
Chapter 35 – A Most Complicated Subject

The battle of Helm’s Deep was over, most of the orcs had been destroyed, and Saruman had been captured, held prisoner in his tower by the Ents. The citizens of Rohan would travel back to Edoras, as well as Eowyn and the other shield maidens. Théoden insisted on riding to Isengard where he would face Saruman and hold him accountable for the attack upon Rohan. Knowing the White Wizard was still quite powerful and dangerous while cornered, Gandalf thought it best to go with the King and his men. Aragorn and Gimli would assist, as well as Legolas, Eomer and other captains of the army. While everyone wanted to see what Saruman had to say for himself, Legolas only had one goal in mind, seeking out Gríma Wormtongue. He had never quite gotten over the fact that Gandalf let Gríma go to return to Isengard. The evil scum had been within his deadly grasp multiple times, and each time he was ordered to let Gríma live. Not this time, Legolas thought to himself.
Some of the army was gathered with the citizens, ready to depart and begin the slow journey back to Edoras. Legolas looked over the crowd, finding Eomer with his sister, giving a few last minute bits of advice.
“Don’t you think I know that already, Eomer?” she was complaining, “For Béma’s sake, my shield maidens and I held off a dozen or more orcs from entering the caves. I think I can handle getting home fairly well.”
“That’s not what I meant. I swear, you can be the most stubborn, thick-headed—” countered Eomer, stopping himself when he saw Legolas coming towards them.
Legolas smiled to himself as he approached the arguing siblings, “Some things never change around here, do they?”
“Legolas, will you tell him that I can take care of myself without the need of a full escort,” she demanded, hands on her hips and scowling at her brother.
“And will you tell her that as long as she is my sister, I have a right to see to her safety,” Eomer answered, returning the same look upon his face.
Legolas walked between them, wrapping an arm around each sibling as he walked towards the departing company of Rohirrim. “I think you should both take a moment to realize that neither of you are children anymore, and that you can each take care of yourselves. But for sanities sake, Eowyn, allow Eomer to give you one . . .” He paused and looked at Eomer, “. . . and only one guard to ride within a certain vicinity of you.”
Eowyn thought for a moment, and then nodded and agreed, “Fine, but I get to choose my own guard.”
“Very well,” Eomer said.
“Good, it is settled then,” said Legolas, satisfied with the outcome. He finished escorting them to the crowd before he released them.
Eowyn started to walk away, but Eomer caught her by the arm, “Just a minute, I want to know who you will choose so that I might have a word or two with him.”
Eowyn rolled her eyes and huffed an irritated breath, as Eomer regarded Legolas again, “We are to meet with my uncle soon. There are some last minute details to discuss before we go to Isengard.”
Legolas bowed, “I’ll go along now then.”
He left Eomer and Eowyn to themselves, turning only to find Rúmil heading towards him. The group of Galadhrim soldiers were waiting in the distance. Legolas and Rúmil bowed heads to each other before they spoke.
“Prince Legolas, we await your orders. Shall we go to Isengard with King Théoden and his men?” Rúmil asked.
Legolas shook his head as he raised his hand, “Please, Rúmil, I wish you would not refer to me as Prince. I … I really haven’t had much time to come to terms with all of this yet.”
“I apologize,” said Rúmil sincerely.
“It’s alright. I guess we all have things to get used to. As for Isengard, I would prefer that you and the others take yourselves back to Lothlórien before the situation of your disappearance becomes any more of an issue with the Lord and Lady.”
“But I assumed that you would be coming with us, and if you are leaving for Isengard—”
“No, Rúmil, this meeting with Saruman does not concern you or Lothlórien. As Lord Celeborn said, this is a matter for men, not elves,” Legolas answered sternly. “Besides, I think my presence in Lórien will not be a welcome one.”
Rúmil started to argue, but Legolas stopped him, “Am I not still in command of this company?”
“You seem to be when it is to your benefit … Sir,” Rúmil answered cynically.
Legolas ignored Rúmil’s irritation, gave a smirk and ran his hand over his head, “Well, I suppose you have me there, but I must insist that you and the company return to Lothlórien … if anything, for Calariel’s sake. Haldir and her father might have my head if they don’t get word soon.”
“I have to agree with you about Calariel, not for Haldir, but for her father. He will not be pleased. Still, Calariel is—”
“Calariel is what?” Calariel herself interrupted.
The two ellon whipped around, caught by surprise. Legolas bowed to his new company, using the gesture to help hide his embarrassment. When he did not answer, she turned to Rúmil for an explanation.
“I thought I felt my ears burning, and here the two of you are talking about me. So … what is it that I am?” As she spoke, one brow rose in question.
“I was just telling Legolas how your father will be … anxious … to learn of your whereabouts,” Rúmil said carefully. In response, all he got was an icy glare, so he excused himself and left her in the hands of the Prince.
Calariel watched Rúmil walk away, and then turned her attention to Legolas, “Well?”
Seeing that he was still in command of the elves, Legolas decided to take his rightful place, “You are to leave for Lothlórien on the morrow.”
“Me?” she questioned.
“You and the rest of the company, of course.”
“And what about you? Are you not returning to Lothlórien?”
“I still have duties to attend to here and with King Théoden,” Legolas said.
“Then I would prefer to come with you,” Calariel stated.
“I’m afraid that is not possible. This matter does not concern you or any of the elves for that matter.”
“But we have sacrificed so much already for you and your cause,” she argued.
“I did not ask you to come.”
“From what I remember you did. Is that not what you asked of Lady Galadriel, aid for Rohan?”
“And I was denied any help, or do you not remember, Lady Calariel?” he said in a defiant tone. “What you and the others did put you all at risk, not only with war but with your positions in your army. I cannot, in my right mind, ask any of you to continue to follow me. If you leave now, perhaps you will still be able to set things right with your commanders, and the damage will be minimal. You must go.”
The argument between them caught the attention of Eowyn and Eomer, who had regulated their own differences. Now they watched the exchange between Calariel and Legolas.
“No!” Calariel defied.
“No?” Legolas said, shocked by her reaction, “You can’t say no.”
“I can and I just did. I am coming with you,” she demanded.
“Then I have no other choice,” Legolas continued, “And as your Captain, I order you to return with the company.”
“Legolas, you don’t understand. We left Lothlórien on our own accord because we believed in you. Who was it that our battle cry was for? Not for Lothlórien, not for Rohan, but for Mirkwood and the return of its Prince. Last I checked, that would be you. So if we have put ourselves at risk, it was because we chose to do so. Now, as for the others, if they decide to return to Lórien, that is their choice, but I am coming with you to Isengard.”
“Why?” Legolas said, now losing his patience.
“Because … because … well, I can’t speak for the others, but as for me, I’m not ready to return home yet,” she admitted.
Meanwhile, Eomer and Eowyn were deeply engaged in the arguing couple. They glanced at each other briefly, and then returned their attention back to the elves.
Legolas’ tone softened, “And why is that?”
“Well, I … I … I don’t know, I just—” she stammered, but before she could come up with a good reason, Legolas grabbed Calariel and pulled her to him. Without hesitation, he kissed her thoroughly. Calariel put up no resistance and kissed him back.
Eomer and Eowyn looked on with stunned faces. “Huh, would you look at that?” Eomer said.
“She’s got a definite strength of character,” Eowyn observed, “I like her.”
“Apparently so does Legolas,” Eomer added.
Legolas released Calariel and the couple locked eyes as they took a moment to catch their breath. “Why, Calariel, why do you and the others choose to follow me? I’m nothing more than a lost elvish soul with no home to call my own. I’ve a different set of values, some of those more human than elf. There are probably a thousand reasons to reject me. I’ve not lived my life according to your laws. Sometimes I’m not sure who I am, and now that I’ve been told my father was a king, I’m … I … I just feel even more distant and alone.”
Calariel took his hand in hers and squeezed, “You are anything but alone, Legolas. You bring hope to those of us who thought there were no other choices. Me, Rúmil, the other elves that followed you here … we have all been taught to think a certain way, to see a limited future while we dwell in Middle-earth. But in our hearts, we feel there is more. Our Eldars have taught us that our real lives begin in Valinor, as though Lothlórien is some kind of temporary refuge. But there are those of us who see and observe, and we think of this as home. We know the pull of the sea will draw us to its shores one day, but we do not long for that time. I think we are much more like you, like your father, and even your mother.”
“My mother?” Legolas asked baffled.
“Do you think she would have risked everything she knew to run away with your father if she didn’t also feel the way the rest of us do? I don’t know what you were taught, but not every Noldor longs to return to the Undying Lands. I think what your parents were trying to do was to build a realm where it was alright to long for Middle-earth, to look ahead, to want to see how its future played out. When Mirkwood was destroyed, our hope was destroyed as well. But you, Laiqalassë, you rekindled the fire in our hearts. We want to help you take back your home, to rebuild it and see you finally sitting upon your rightful place as heir to your father’s throne. I know that is what he would have wanted, him and your mother.”
“I had no idea,” Legolas responded, “For so long I thought no one else felt this way. And when I was finally able to speak to my own kind, I was met with contempt for nothing more than my bloodline.”
“Lord Celeborn and your father never quite saw eye to eye. Celeborn was destroyed when your mother abandoned Lothlórien for Mirkwood. His heart is still deeply wounded, and when he sees you, all of those memories come flooding back. But I know if he just got to know you—”
“No, Calariel,” Legolas interrupted, “He will only ever see my father and what he took away from him. I can never expect to mend any of those hurts. That is not why I went to Lothlórien in the first place. But at least I learned something I’d never known before.”
“And what is that?” she asked.
“As you said, there are those who love these shores and wish to see peace for future generations.”
Calariel smiled and looked down at the ground, “That is good then,” she said. Legolas thought she seemed slightly disappointed with his answer.
“There is something else that I’m glad to have discovered,” he added.
“Oh? What?” she said as she looked up at him once more.
He nodded and smiled as he gently took her dark braid in between his fingers, “You.”
“Sly fox,” Eomer whispered to himself.
Eowyn shoved her elbow into her brother’s ribs, making him flinch and double over, “Come on, and leave them dear brother. Now, as for my ‘guard’, will Aragorn be returning to Edoras?”
Eomer gave his sister a stern look, “Aragorn? Why no, he’s going to Isengard with . . . Wait a moment, what’s this?”
Eowyn blushed and couldn’t help let a small smile escape, “Never mind.” She turned to walk away and spare herself any further embarrassment, but Eomer rushed after her.
“Are you saying that you—”
“I said never mind!” Eowyn demanded.
“No, wait, I’m not trying to tease you. Actually, I think it is a very wise choice to—” Again Eomer was cut off.
“Drop it, Eomer,” she commanded again, and this time her brother did as she asked.
* * *
Rúmil agreed with Legolas that they should return to Lothlórien, but he could not change Calariel’s mind about staying. The Noldo tried to sway her to come home, but she would not budge on her decision.
“Is there nothing you can say to her?” Rúmil asked Legolas when he took the prince aside.
“Do you think I did not try?” Legolas countered. “I know she will only make things worse for herself by not returning to her home and her family. And I am sure I will be to blame for her absence, but you know as well as I that Calariel is very strong minded. Nothing will dissuade her.”
Rúmil shook his head, “She has seen too much of the world outside of Lothlórien, and now it calls to her. I can’t say as I blame her though. I can’t help but feel a bit adventurous myself.” Rúmil glanced to where Calariel stood speaking with Eowyn, and he furrowed his brow in concern, “I will do what I can and speak with her father. Haldir will maybe understand better, but he will not be happy with her decision either. Watch over her, Legolas, and bring her home as soon as possible.”
Legolas bowed, “I will do everything within my power to see her returned safely home.”
Rúmil returned the bow, and went to speak one last time with Calariel. When he was through, he gathered the rest, and the Lothlórien elves took their leave of Rohan.
In the meantime, Legolas and the other men traveling to Isengard had been called upon to meet with King Théoden. He reminded them of Saruman’s betrayal of Rohan, and that they were going there to hold the wizard accountable for the countless deaths and destruction.
“It went far beyond the deception seen in Edoras. His grasp on our city was very strong, so strong that he was able to recruit some of our own men into siding with him,” Théoden explained. “Too long had I been kept in dark dreams while one of our own organized our demise. Because of this, we found the people of Helm’s Deep unprepared, but we are stronger of heart than any race of men. We came together and stood against our enemy, and because of that, we won the battle.”
As Théoden kept on with his speech, Legolas spotted Eomer and went to him, curious about one of Théoden’s statements. “What does he mean when he says Helm’s Deep was unprepared? They should have been more than ready with all the blacksmiths sent there from Edoras.”
“I hadn’t realized you did not know,” Eomer started. “Saruman had people stationed here too. They took over the Hornburg and ruled as the wizard wanted. It was Gríma’s job to send the blacksmiths to Helm’s Deep, and to make the city of Edoras think that they were going there to make weapons. Instead, their equipment was confiscated. No weapon was forged, no blade was sharpened. The blacksmiths were kept under a watchful eye. Anyone caught disobeying their rules was locked away in the underground dungeons.”
Calariel saw Eomer and Legolas talking, and she moved closer to listen to their conversation. She had a feeling that Legolas would keep certain bits of information from her, and she did not like his choice to keep her in the dark.
Legolas’ look of concern at Eomer’s news was easily readable, as he called to mind one blacksmith and his family. Eomer already knew what Legolas wanted to ask, but was afraid to conjure up. “She is safe,” Eomer told him.
“And her father?” Legolas asked.
Eomer was silent as he tried to think of a way to tell Legolas the disturbing news. Instead, he slowly shook his head as his eyes turned to the ground.
Legolas knew something awful had happened and he wanted to know. It would fuel his hatred for his only target, Gríma. “Tell me,” he insisted.
“Lúta and her family made it safely to the Hornburg, but when her father’s tools and equipment were taken from him, he rebelled and was thrown into the dungeons. Like so many of the blacksmiths, they were angered when they learned that they’d been beguiled. Lúta’s father formed an alliance with the other men in the prison, and planned to escape and overthrow the people who put them there. Somehow, their plan was discovered and her father took responsibility to save his men from further punishment. To show everyone their power, Saruman’s men had Lúta’s father executed, as an example of what would happen to anyone who tried to go against them.”
Calariel listened to Eomer’s explanation and wondered who these people were. Then she remembered Legolas mentioning a girl he’d fallen in love with, and realized that this must be who Lúta was. It was beyond her understanding why an elf could allow his heart to become involved with a mortal, but then again, Legolas was not the typical elf.
Legolas stood wordless before Eomer, gazing past his broad shoulder to a memory that only the elf could see. His hands had balled into tight fists until his knuckles turned white. “Where is she?” he said in a low definite tone of anger for the injustice done to Lúta and her family.
Eomer took a deep breath and let it out slowly, “She is here, but—”
Legolas’ resentful ice blue eyes fell upon his friend, “She is here? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“She came with the other refugees before the battle. Legolas, it has been years since you have seen her, and she has—”
“I must see her. I must know that she is alright,” Legolas demanded.
“I don’t think that’s wise,” Eomer advised the elf.
“It matters not what you think, Eomer. You will tell me where she is and—”
Upset that Legolas would not listen, Eomer cut him off and said in a raised tone, “She is married now, Legolas!” The elf’s attention was caught, and Eomer lowered his voice to something more compassionate, “She has a husband to protect her and their young son. You should not interfere.”
The elf was taken off guard by this. He didn’t know what to think, but he’d never thought of Lúta moving on. But then, he must remind himself that she was human, and their hearts worked differently. He was disconcerted and speechless in front of his friend, and walked off instead of saying anything. Eomer called to him, but Legolas put up a hand to stop him and continued on.
He found himself in the inner courtyard of the Hornburg where many people had gathered looking for loved ones. The area was very crowded, and he stood still while bodies moved around him. Some people shed tears of joy at learning that a husband, father, son or brother had survived the battle. Others wept in the arms of another, finding their loved ones were gone from the world.
Through the moving bodies, Legolas glimpsed Lúta on the other side of the courtyard. He wished to run to her, for he had not seen her in many years, and it pained him to know the horrible fate of her father. She was older now, a woman, no longer a girl like the one he had last laid eyes upon. Something restrained him from going to her, and instead, he observed through the passing people. She was looking for someone, her fingers weaved together, anxiously twisting. Legolas was reminded of their younger days. He had seen her look like this then, standing under their secret tree as she waited for him. A time or two, he had hidden and watched before going to her. His mind almost tricked him into thinking that she was again waiting for him until he saw a man approach her. Legolas watched Lúta’s face alight at first glance of him. He was a Rohirric man, tall and robust like all young Rohirrim. In an instant Lúta was wrapped in his arms, relief and joy filling them both. Legolas’ heart broke a little more at the sight of them, husband and wife reunited after a long trying battle. Then, Lúta turned revealing a small boy clutched tightly to her skirts. Her husband got down on one knee, looked the boy in the eye and gave a smile. Legolas could see the child mouth the word ‘Daddy’ as he released Lúta and clutched his father’s neck. The man stood, holding his young son and his wife, all three now teary-eyed.
“That’s her, isn’t it… the woman you spoke of,” Calariel said, coming to stand beside Legolas. She had followed him to the inner courtyard.
Legolas did not turn to Calariel or speak, but only nodded in answer. He found that he could not stop watching Lúta, curious about her new life. He needed to know that she was happy, and seeing her with her family confirmed that.
“I am sorry things did not work out for you and her, but you must know that it would never have been accepted by our own kind,” Calariel said.
“She was my first love,” Legolas whispered.
“But she is human,” Calariel said prosaically.
“You say that as if it matters.”
“It is against our laws, Legolas. Humans are here for such a short time. To bind to one of them would mean your fading once she died, whether of sickness or old age. You can’t think that you would have had a happy life with her,” Calariel argued.
Legolas rounded on her, his blue eyes daggered with anger, “And what would you know of it? Have you ever been in love?”
Calariel did not back down from Legolas’ challenge, but stood a little taller as she countered, “Have you ever truly been an elf?”
They were face to face, each one defending their own thoughts and actions. Legolas would never think that his feelings for Lúta were anything but genuine, and Calariel would defend their elvish laws, for that was how things were supposed to be.
Calariel brought her hand up and poked Legolas in the chest as she reprimanded him, “You are a prince, Laiqalassë. Perhaps you should start thinking like one.”
“A prince of what… a realm fallen into darkness… a people all but obliterated?” Legolas took her hand and pushed it away from him, “This is the only life I’ve known. These are the only people I’ve ever loved and respected. I may not know ‘your’ laws, but I know how to be honest with myself and others. I live by the laws of those who have raised me, of those who took me into their homes and their lives, and considered me to be like them. Now, here you are wanting me to change. You want a hero, a savior, and I just want to make things right and live peacefully with those that I truly know. So to answer your question… no, I don’t know what it means to be an elf, but I do know what it means to be an elf living in the world of Men. The Noldor have preached about it for many years. Middle-earth will eventually belong to Men. Well, don’t you think it’s about time we learned to live in their world?
You and your people hide in Lothlórien, waiting to be called home instead of venturing out and taking it all in. Life is so much more enjoyable when you share it with others, even those not of your own race. If we are eventually called upon to leave these shores forever, don’t you think we should first explore the people and the places that will shape the future of Middle-earth? Don’t you want to know what you are leaving behind?”
Legolas paused and looked over to the place where he’d seen Lúta. She was still there, kissing her son’s cheek as his father held him. Legolas no longer felt self-pity for not being in the shoes of the man who claimed Lúta’s heart. Instead, he realized that he was watching the future of Middle-earth unfold right before his very eyes. “If being a prince means giving up my human family,” he said, “then I do not want this position.”
Suddenly, Lúta’s attention turned towards the place where Legolas and Calariel stood, and she saw him. Legolas spun on his heal to avoid eye contact, “I have to go. Prepare yourself for Isengard. We go to meet a most malicious foe. No one will be safe. Saruman is still a very powerful wizard, and now he is cornered.” With that said, Legolas left Calariel in the courtyard, disappearing within the crowd. She watched Lúta a moment, as she searched the crowd for the ghost from her past, but she would not find him. Neither would Calariel, until it was time to leave.
* * *
The morning of their departure had come. Legolas walked slowly to the causeway where he would meet with the other travelers of their company. There he would find Arod as well, ready for the journey to Isengard. He was glad to have this moment alone, and his thoughts took him back a couple of days, when he’d had the confrontation with Calariel. He wasn’t sure what came over him. Seeing Lúta had stirred up old feelings that he thought were well buried. And then Calariel came along. A different set of emotions mixed in with the rest. He wasn’t sure how he felt about her yet. He liked her, found her to be very attractive, a match to his own strength, and comfortable to be with. But sometimes she seemed to be too set in elvish ways, unbending to his own contradictory set of rules. She did not understand the way he thought or the choices he made, when it seemed perfectly clear to him.
He felt bad for the way he had treated her. Neither one was willing to back down from their argument, yet neither one would listen to the other. He would apologize, of course, just as soon as he met her again. He didn’t have to wait long. She came out of a doorway, weapons at her side and upon her back, and a pack in her hand. Her long dark hair was neatly braided away from her face, and her cloak was fastened securely about her shoulders. When she looked up and saw Legolas, she seemed startled and turned from her path. Legolas called out to her, but she ignored him.
“Calariel, wait! I must speak to you. I owe you an apology,” he called.
His words stopped her, but she did not look back. Instead, she waited for him to approach, and before he could say anything more, she spoke, “I apologize too, Legolas. I’ve caused enough trouble and I will not be a burden anymore. I am going back to Lothlórien.”
Shocked, Legolas took her arm and turned her towards him, “Lothlórien? But I thought you were coming with the company to Isengard.”
“I think maybe I shouldn’t.”
“What has changed your mind? If it is about our dispute—”
Calariel looked him deep within his eyes, “It is about more than that. I… I don’t understand you. Here you are, elvish born, a great warrior, heir of royals, but yet you would choose to base your life on the rules of those who are not kin. I have been raised by strict elvish laws. What little I have seen from you would be enough to have you banished from my community. I have given it much thought, but just trying to understand how you think makes me feel as though I will be struck down at any moment. So, perhaps we should just go our separate ways for now. Go with the king and settle this matter with the White Wizard, and when you feel you have paid your debt to Rohan, maybe you will come to Lothlórien again.”
“I thought you were different, Calariel. I thought you wanted to see the world away from the misty realities of Lothlórien. Too long have you sat in your protected realm, safe from war, safe from evil. It is easy to do. I know, for I felt the tranquility that Lórien brought to my mind. But while I felt shielded beneath the wing of Galadriel, I knew my brothers were not, and I cannot sit by while others are at war.”
“But it is not your war to fight. We have been taught not to meddle in the affairs of Men. They will inherit Middle-earth soon enough so they must learn to fend for themselves without the elves. We will not always be there to help,” Calariel argued.
“I don’t understand. You and Rúmil came with me to Rohan. If you think you should not interfere, then why did you come?”
“I’ve told you before, but you do not listen. We came because of you,” she said irritated.
“And I came for Rohan, so in that same sense, you fought for Men, not elves. Do you not see that we are all closely tied to each other? If we do not get involved while we still live on these shores, there is still a chance that Men will fail. Will you let that happen? Will you turn your back and sail, leaving Men to fend for themselves, or will you help cleanse the evil so that human kind will prosper once we are gone?” Legolas took up her hand and gazed down at her long fingers, “I know what it is like to be left to fend for myself. It only leads to death and heartache. I will never abandon anyone who needs my help, human, elf or dwarf. It does not matter. What matters is making this a place for a hopeful future. So, will you come with us to Isengard? Your skills may be needed.”
“I am but only one,” said Calariel, still unsure of her decision.
“So am I,” he answered humbly.
Calariel looked up into his face, his meaning coming clear to her now. She smiled, “Alright, I will come.”
“Good, for I would have greatly missed your company,” Legolas replied.
* * *
Their journey to Isengard had been unchallenged, though they couldn’t help feel as though they were being watched. King Théoden rode out front, Eomer at his uncle’s side. Gandalf stayed to the other side of the king. The king’s captains rode behind him, with Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli next in line, while Calariel rode with the other three guards. As they closed the distance to the White Wizard’s realm, Legolas and Calariel slowed and followed at the very back for a while. They spoke quietly to each other, answering curiosities about Lothlórien or Rohan, about the laws of elves and those of men, and how Legolas balanced between the two.
“All I know is what I have read,” Legolas said, “But reading about the laws of the elves is difficult to decipher when laws of men are so solidly placed in front of you.”
“I think I can understand that,” Calariel said. “You tend to adapt to your surroundings and live how they live.”
“Exactly,” he smiled.
“And whose laws were you following when you kissed me,” she asked courageously.
“I was following my own at that point. And since you didn’t stop me or turn away in disgust, then I must have been within my elvish rights,” he jested, “But now you have me curious as to how far those rules extend.”
Calariel regarded him with one brow raised in challenge, “Not as far as you would like. Those activities are frowned upon.”
“Ah, frowned upon being the key word, I see. So, not every elf abstains until marriage.”
Calariel was becoming a bit uncomfortable with the conversation, and she shifted uneasily in her saddle, “Well, no, I suppose there are those who… engage in intimacy.”
Legolas found her modesty quite becoming and decided to push the issue further, “Take for instance… Haldir. I wouldn’t think someone as long-lived as him—”
“I would not know that kind on personal information about the marchwarden,” she interrupted bitterly.
Legolas could see he was taking their game too far. He decided to change the subject quickly, but before he could, Calariel surprised him.
“Have you?” she asked sheepishly.
“Have you?” he answered with a question.
“I asked you first,” Calariel insisted.
Now Legolas squirmed in his saddle, which he suddenly found to be quite restraining. He twisted the reins in his hands and stared straight ahead, “I have.”
“Oh,” she responded, sounding disappointed at his answer.
“And you haven’t?” he asked.
“No,” she countered defiantly.
“No?” Legolas questioned with surprise.
“Absolutely not!” she said offended by his lack of respect.
The silence between them became heavy and difficult to bear. Legolas felt he must apologize for putting her in such an uncomfortable position with his questions. Again, Calariel interrupted his thoughts with her curiosity. She was proving to be very forward.
“Was it… was it with—”
“Lúta,” he answered quickly.
The intolerable quiet returned, giving Calariel a moment to absorb his revelation, and realize just what it must have meant to see the Rohirric woman in the arms of another. “I didn’t mean to invite her into our conversation. I know it must be a difficult subject.”
“The wounds are still fresh, but they will scar over. Really, I don’t know what I expected to find.” Legolas edged Arod closer to Calariel and her horse. He moved forward just a bit so that he could look into her face. “I surely never expected to find someone like you.”
Calariel blushed and looked down at the reins in her hands. She had no words for him. It was just nice getting to know him and his feelings towards her. Then she found her courage and flashed her eyes at him, “I have yet to figure you out, Legolas. You are a most complicated subject.”
Someone up ahead called to the back of the company, and Calariel and Legolas dropped their conversation. Legolas stood in his saddle and gazed ahead. “Isengard,” he whispered.
Calariel looked off into the distance, “The Tower of Orthanc, it is looming in the distance.”
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The Last Wood Elf