The Witch of Chaos - (a Legolas Fanfiction)

Chapter 2: The Beginning of a Great Adventure

 ⁂●Chapter 2: The Beginning of a Great Adventure

 Aoife wandered into the large halls of the House of Rivendell, all alone, an immemorial habit she had by dint of being alone for ages. People often fled her presence like the Great Plague, she was announced as the bringer of Chaos, Destruction and Death.

 She sat on the edge of a fountain, caressing the Ring she wore, glassy eyes lost in nowhere but her memories. This Ring, a gift from her creator – or father-, forged by an Elvish hand, was made of gold. In the middle of it, an oval red shaped stone lie. Just like the One Ring, it was forged in secret but it did not get corrupt by the Dark Lord. Her father. She did not know how to feel anymore about him. For once in his lifetime, Sauron had done something good. Because yes, the Ring he gave her had the power to channeled her power. Otherwise she was an out of control Beast. The red-haired Witch had lain, Sauron had done one more good thing: he gave her a sister. Her beloved sister, maybe it had been an act of pure selfishness but there was a time Aoife had felt nothing but loneliness.

 Her dear little sister had found the love of her life, her Soul. Someone who gave her the peaceful and merry life Aoife failed to gave her. They were probably living inside the Lonely Mountains or in Diacigan, maybe they were even married, little Dwelves running around them. The truth was the Witch did not know, but only imagine how her sister was happy. She was sure of it.  Arlan, it was her name. It was the little Elleth who had sworn to help a bunch of Dwarves to reclaim their home back, Erebor, the Lonely Mountains. Aoife joined them in the middle of their journey, after she healed her sister, who almost died by being burnt alive.  She wanted Arlan to leave the Company, but this Elleth was stubborn, really stubborn. This is why she joined them, if her sister did not want to leave these Dwarves, then the Witch of Chaos would follow and help her.

 Few months after the Battle of the Five Armies, the Witch disappeared and was nowhere to be found for the next seventy-ish years. She had lost too many beings that she had loved too much. Thorin Oakenshield. Their last conversation had been nothing but an argue because of the King's gold sickness, everyday then she regretted finishing on bad terms because she had loved him. Thivur Strongmind, a dear friend that fell on the battlefield, leaving behind four children and a wife mourning their loss. Only a month after, his wife, Delwyn, died of a broken heart. It had been sudden but he was her One. So many deaths for the Witch that had taken many lives, but it was nothing to compare to the death of a friend, a lover, a child. Aoife had lost a son, her reckless Calethor. She may not had given birth to the boy, but she loved him as a mother. A mother who lost her child because of a war. A child who gave his last breath in his mother's arms. The red-haired Witch had wondered if she was ready to deal with another war, when she would grew closer to her new companions, when there was a chance to lost them, again.  

 "If this is anything but a dream, I do hope to be very awake. Only to gaze upon you." A voice she knew too well broke the silence in which she had remained. The Prince of Mirkwood, Legolas Greenleaf, carefully walked in the direction of the Witch. He feared her appearance at the Council was nothing but a ghost of the past. He kneeled down and gently held her hand between both of his hands.

"It is not a dream, my Elven Prince. I am once again wandering into these lands." She felt a thing in her chest, a slight tingling affecting her.

"I cannot believe I am here, with you after all these years. I may be immortal, but it felt like a whole lifetime." Legolas kissed both of her hands, closing his eyes. Deep down, he still feared his friend would fade away as an old memory.

 Aoife put a hand on the Ellon's cheek, she knew it would forced him to look at her. And he did. His piercing blue eyes had changed, turning into a restful blue, almost green. Not only the eyes, but the whole Ellon had changed, she felt a more peaceful being in front of her. It was no more of the insolent and Thranduil-like Legolas. They both stood up, the Elven-Prince wrapped his arms around the waist of the Witch, running his hand in her long hair. He felt the urge to inhale the smell of it, to touch her, to feel her skin against him.