Adult-FanFiction.org : Lord of the Rings

The Snow of Caras Galadhon	By : kathmco Category: -Multi-Age > Het - Male/Female Views: 1851 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
Title: The Snow of Caras Galadhon

Author: Emmess

Rating: R (NC17 in later chapters)

Summary: Haldir must confront the return of someone from his

past.

Genre: Romance, Haldir/OFC

Chapter Four

She sat, hidden by the latticework of vines, watching Elrond call to order a council of the visitors who had recently arrived from all corners of Arda.
The last week had been a most exciting one, beginning with the arrival of the Hobbit brought by the Ranger. Funny little creature, no bigger than she herself had been when she first arrived in Imladris, he seemed a frightened rabbit on the few occasions she had had to greet him since his awakening in the House of Healing. Although she had not been privy to the entire story, she had gleaned enough bits and pieces to understand that his injury had had something to do with the reason Elrond had summoned the visitors to Imladris.
The rest of his travelling companions had arrived shortly afterward. The Ranger, Estel, of course, she knew…Arwen's beau, though one was not supposed to speak of their romance…and three other Hobbits - Sam, Merry and Pippin. It was Pippin she was most fond of since he always seemed to have a smile on his face. He told her stories of their home in the Shire that made her laugh - she told him stories of her home in Lothlorien that made his eyes widen.
Not long after Frodo, the injured Hobbit's name she had learned, had awakened, others began to arrive. Mithrandir, whom she had never met before, but who always managed to send a chill through her when he gazed upon her…the Maiar made her nervous since it seemed he could see through her as clearly as if she were made of water. The Men, whom she steered clear of upon the orders of both Glorfindel and Erestor - neither of whom quite trusted the belligerent, rather hairy creatures it seemed. The Dwarves, small and squat, who looked sour and unapproachable, but seemed polite enough on the few occasions she had interacted with them. Yet to her it seemed that they were trying too hard to be civil, as if they did not trust their hosts completely.
The Elves were the last to arrive, riding in with the last of the sun's setting rays. Nee had happened to be sitting on the broad white steps of Elrond's House, reading quietly in the fading light when the sound of hoof beats heralded their arrival.
They were of the Wood Elves, golden haired and light eyed. She stood, watching them dismount with fluid grace, handing the reins of their mounts to the stable attendants. A shadow fell over her as Elrond descended the stairs to greet them personally, welcoming them to both Imladris, and his House. Before she could turn and disappear into the cool interior of the building, he called to her.
"Nee…will you kindly show our guests to their quarters?" he asked, indicating the three blond Elves standing with him.
Nodding, she blushed as the intense blue eyes of the one standing closest to Elrond met her own. He smiled at her, nodding his own head in greeting, as she waited for them to approach.
She did not attempt light chatter, as she had with the Hobbits and the Dwarves, although she should have felt much more relaxed in the company of her own kind. Simply put, the tall blonde, blue-eyed Elves from the depths of Mirkwood unnerved her in ways she could not fully understand and did not wish to explore. Uncomfortable with their gaze, she swiftly led them to the servants who would see them to their chambers. She left before any of them could turn to thank her, silently slipping from the hallway into one of the rooms that led off of it, her back to the closed door, her heart beating a rapid tempo within her ribs.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As she so often did, she found herself the next morning on the training grounds, her quiver strapped to her back and her bow in her hand, firing shots at the target set there for that purpose. Her arrows flew true, but her mind was not on her task. Instead, all she could seem to think about was the Elf who had arrived the previous afternoon from the realm of Thranduil. She had learned his name was Legolas, and that he was a younger son of the King. A renowned archer, he had been sent to represent his father's House at Elrond's summons.
Perhaps one of the most lovely creatures she had ever laid eyes upon, he carried his lean frame with a grace and confidence only the combination of his heritage and birthright could command, it was the look in those sapphire eyes as they had gazed briefly into her own that unnerved her. She had seen that look before, from certain of the Elves of Imladris, Elladan chief among them, and it frightened her. Elladan, she could handle…having shown him the strength of her arm more than once when he overstepped his boundaries, but this Elf was another story. A stranger, more handsome than most, a royal, and a guest of Elrond…she couldn't very well lay him out in the dirt should he press an undue advantage upon her, now could she? Best he be avoided altogether, she thought as she fired yet another arrow into the center of the target.
It was only his voice coming from just over her shoulder as she nocked another arrow that told her she was no longer alone.
"Nicely done…you have a feeling for the bow."
Turning, feeling the blush creep up her neck, she met the summer blue eyes of the Prince of Mirkwood, standing just behind her, carrying his own bow and quiver.
"Your Highness," she managed to mutter, her eyes immediately falling to her feet. She also took a step backward, putting a bit more distance between them.
"I frown upon formalities…please, call me Legolas," He said. "Do you mind if I join you?"
"I was just leaving, your High…um…I was just taking my leave. You may have the whole of the course to yourself," Nee said, turning to collect her arrows from the target. His hand burned like fire through the fabric of her sleeve as he caught hold of her arm.
"No…do not leave…I should like to shoot against you. I have never met an elleth with a talent for the bow such as yours. It intrigues me."
Nodding shyly, she acquiesced since she could not think of a suitable way to turn down a direct request from a royal. Watching him, she was impressed despite herself as he whipped an arrow out of his quiver and let it fly, hitting the center of the target without seemingly having had to aim at all.
Her hands shook a bit as she took her turn, planting her own arrow very close to his in the target's center. Her arrow still quivered in the target when his planted itself next to it.
Again she fired, again hitting very close to center, the grouping of arrows now crowding the center markings of the target.
So quickly that she could scarcely believe he had actually fired, he sent two arrows together into the target, both firmly planted in the very narrow space still open in the center.
"That was most impressive, your Highness…I cannot hope to duplicate your skill," she said softly, truly respecting his ability as an archer. No wonder this Elf's reputation was as it was…he was a Master Archer.
"Very well, Nee…the game is over, and I will claim my prize," he said, a small smile turning his full lips.
"Prize? I was not aware that we had made a wager, your Highness," she answered, her eyes widening. "I have naught to bet."
"I am a Prince in the land of my father," Legolas replied, only jesting, although his face remained impassive. "I do not shoot merely for sport. I demand a prize. And I believe I told you before to call me Legolas."
"Aye, my apologies…Legolas…but, what do I possess that you could possibly want? Your own bow is much grander than mine…surely that is not which you seek?"
"Nay…I've no need for another bow."
"Please…tell me what it is that you wish for a prize, and if it is within my ability, I will give it to you."
Slowly the smile he had been holding back spread across his face. Her answer was just the one he had been manipulating to receive. "Ah…there is something that you possess that I wish to have very badly…" he whispered, closing the distance between them. One hand flew behind her neck, pulling her close to him, his lips crushing against hers, while his other hand sought her breast, cupping and kneading the soft flesh beneath her gown.
Just as quickly as he had fired the double arrows into the target, he found himself sprawled out face down in the dirt, not entirely sure what had happened to him.
Looking up, spitting out a mouthful of grass, he watched in dumbfounded silence as the white-haired elleth ran back toward Elrond's House.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
These thoughts flitted through her mind as she watched the council called to order. Perhaps the single most consciously disobedient thing she had ever done, she had sought this place of hiding after having overhead Elladan and Elrohir speak of the clandestine meeting to be held that afternoon. She knew very well that she shouldn't be eavesdropping on the council, but the vision she had had haunted her, and she felt strongly that this meeting might hold some answers to its meaning. Her attention was drawn back to the present as Elrond began speaking.
"Strangers from different lands, friends of old you have been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor. Middle Earth stands upon the brink of a knife, none can escape it. You will unite or you will fall. We are all bound to this one fate, this one doom. Bring forth the ring Frodo," he said in his deep, commanding voice.
She watched, intrigued by the small Hobbit as he carefully placed the simple golden ring on the center of a pedestal. This, then was the ring in her vision…the one which would cause such great suffering. A chill tickled her spine as she watched the council stare in awe at the tiny trinket. She cringed as the Dwarf, Gimli, sought to destroy it, succeeding only in destroying his own axe blade.
One of the humans, Boromir she thought his name was, became quite agitated at Elrond's plan to carry the Ring to Mordor to be destroyed.
Unbidden, the memory of the Elf Prince's hand on her breast came to her mind, as he stood to defend Lord Elrond.
"Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond has said? The Ring must be destroyed!" he cried, jumping from his seat to face the human.
She thought for a moment that the Elves and Dwarves would come to blows as Gimli slandered the Elf's honor, but Legolas held the Elves back, an action of which she begrudgingly approved. She would rather have seen him lain out again, since she had not forgiven him (not that he had sought her forgiveness anyway) of his familiarity with her on the archery field. Still, she had to admit to herself that he handled the situation with the Dwarves with grace.
A Fellowship of nine were chosen to accompany Frodo on a quest to destroy the Ring. "Nine will leave. A ring is the root of much sorrow. A mountain of fire. Nine will leave." Remembering her own words, shaking, a cold unlike any she had ever felt before chilled her bones although the late afternoon was warm. A vision of Lorien came to her, and for a moment she stood again beneath the towering mellyrn. Staring at the Ring as Frodo slowly picked it up and threaded it through a chain he wore about his neck, she knew with certainty that it was of the utmost importance that she return home.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"It would not be beyond my rights to have you drawn and quartered for your attack upon my person," Legolas jested, cornering Nee in the library the evening before the Fellowship was set to begin their journey. "I am a Prince, you know."
"So I have been told. Perhaps I should have put an arrow through you while you lay upon the ground. Dead elves cannot seek revenge," Nee replied, trying to sound much more confident than she felt.
"I have not given up on my prize, lóth nin…I will return to Imladris after I have served my duty. I will expect to claim it at that time," Legolas told her, stepping forward to close the distance between them, backing her up to wall.
She looked at the handsome Prince standing expectantly before her, and knew she would not be able to take him by surprise again should he attempt to touch her as he did on the field. If he pushed his advantage, they would come to blows. She had no doubt though, that she would leave him remembering her in a most painful manner.
"Legolas! There you are…quickly, Lord Elrond requests our presence…" Aragorn called from the doorway of the Library.
Frowning, Legolas whispered to Nee, "I will see you again, Nee… Tenna' ento lye omenta." He turned on his heel and followed Aragorn down the hallway.
Wrapping her arms around herself, she felt tears sting her eyes at his parting words…they were the same ones Haldir had spoken to her when she left Lothlorien so many years ago. It was not Legolas who brought her to the brink of tears, but her memory of the Warden.
When the feeling of urgency to return home hit her with such force that it nearly took her breath away, why was it his face that she saw?
TBC…

Translations:
lóth nin…my flower

Tenna' ento lye omenta...until we next meet
- 3
- 4
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

The Snow of Caras Galadhon