"I cannot raise a child!" Thranduil said aghast. "What she needs is a mother and a father- a proper family," he sighed.
"Maybe she has found them in you..."
It was said that after the death of his Queen, the Elven king became bitter and cold. Everyo...
A squirrel jumped off the branch followed by his friend, who was demanding the return of his precious- the new addition to his winter collection. There was a small fight on the branch which ended up in both of them losing their trophy, for the acorn had fallen off into the densely packed russet leaves of the lower branches.
The victim of this assault was one poor elf, who was sitting on a branch a few feet below. He had been at the peak of his creativity as words flooded out of his quill when the acorn was dropped perfectly onto his head, the momentary distraction causing the brilliant idea which he had just conceived to fly away.
He winced and rubbed his head, grunting at the sight of the blot of ink in the middle of the page.
"Be careful," he said aloud into the canopy and placed the acorn on a branch above him for the squirrels to retrieve it. With a sigh he stared down at the half-written verse, fingers combing his dark hair braided in warrior fashion over and over again, desperate to remember the right word.
"Stop pulling your hair off! Whom are you so desperately dreaming of, Laero?", his friend asked as he dropped down beside him on the branch, twiddling a dried twig in his hands. Laerdil shut his journal abruptly, before Feren chanced to take a look at its contents.
"I am not dreaming. I am writing."
"A new song? Let me see it." Feren tried to snatch it from his grasp.
"It's not complete," Laerdil snapped, putting the book out of his reach. Feren pulled a face, yet let the matter drop with a shrug, being accustomed to his friend's tantrums.
"Fine. But you will have to show me once it is completed."
Laerdil nodded, albeit hesitantly. "So how was the patrol? Did you find anything suspicious?" He asked, desperate to change the topic.
Laerdil gave off an amused smirk. "You would be the only elf in the entire Greenwood to speak that way about the spiders. Don't let Eiliandil hear you."
"Ah, don't remind me! The last thing I would want is him tutoring me about the manners to be kept while speaking about spiders. How was your day?"
"Same as yours. Went with the patrol. Came back and currently in the work of a new song."
"When will I be honoured with this song, sung by the Lark of Greenwood?"
Laerdil rolled his eyes. "Call me that once more and I will push you off."
"Well, you don't have to. I am going anyway. Need a bath."
"Don't go anywhere near the southern waterfall," Laerdil said abruptly, eliciting a questioning look from his friend.
"A group of hunters is headed that way. I don't want them to mistake you for a wild boar. You reek," Laerdil continued, in a very serious tone.
"Come to me tomorrow after your guard duty and I shall tell you who the wild boar is!"
Laerdil shook his head and chuckled, his smile turning into annoyance upon feeling the twigs inserted into his braids. Feren jumped off the branch quickly and strode away, humming a familiar melody. Strange, he thought. Luckily, he didn't notice Laerdil's sigh of relief. It wasn't because Laero felt it was not safe to show him this new creation. Feren was his best friend. But this song, which he had just jotted down, wasn't for ordinary eyes. Instead, it was for a special someone.
With wistful eyes, he turned the pages again and read the hastily written lines. They were struck off and rewritten several times. Since he had no intention of presenting it to anyone, it was not a problem.
The lines spoke of a young woman, with matchless hair of gleaming gold and eyes of forest green. Laerdil wasn't a coward. In any other instance, he would have gone straight to her and poured down his heart. But what if the girl he fancied was his king's only daughter? What if she was not like any other person he had ever met?- not just because of her hair. What if she herself was different from him or any of them?
How many times had he berated himself for his feelings towards this young mortal?- He lost count. How can he, an elf, hope for a bright future with a mortal woman? The tales of doomed romances between their kinds were not unknown to him. Why did I fall in love with the only mortal in the entire Kingdom? Ai Glorphen! Why did I fall for you, of all people?
There was another reason for writing a song; her begetting day was drawing near. She will soon step off the threshold of childish innocence, as in the manner of her race. He would make his intentions known to her, then.
Several lines were omitted when he finally sang it...
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It was a late autumn evening. Everyone was exhausted after the day-long patrol through the drab forest and songs to cheer them up were a necessity. Almost all elves were fairly good at singing, maybe, except for the most unlucky ones. Because of this, they had no shortage of songs for that matter. Songs accompanied by a fairly good amount of wine, roasted meat and dried fruits made the event altogether joyous.
It was purely out of Feren's insistence that Laerdil had finally agreed to sing his song while sitting with his friends around a raging fire, not wanting to look like he was hiding something. He was hiding something, even from his closest friend.
Never in his life had he thought that someone would surprise him that much like on that day. He had reached the fourth verse, when a greeting by the dearest of all voices sounded in that lone part of the woods. She stepped out into the clearing, the firelight illuminating her golden waterfall of hair touched with a tint of brown, the green dress matching her eyes. Suddenly he had no voice.
"Sorry to interrupt. I heard your song. It was really beautiful. Pray continue," she said with eyes flitting across the gathered elves, heat slowly creeping up her cheeks because of the sudden attention she was receiving.
Feren nudged him in the ribs, bringing him back to his senses. Only then did he realize that he was openly gaping at her.
"Hello! I am Feren. This is Laerdil, our singer. Please forgive his manners. He seems to have lost his senses around such gorgeous company," Feren proclaimed. She smiled at this, her cheeks reddening further.
"Come sit with us. He has only begun. He will be only too happy to sing it all over again," he continued, ignoring the deadly glare of his friend. She mumbled thanks and sat down.
"Yes," he muttered, and began all over again. She sat opposite him, with her head in her hand. Unable to look at her without looking stupid, Laerdil focused his gaze on the fire. Across from them, Eiliandil glanced at the scene, fascinated, and smiled when Feren threw a triumphant smile at him from his seat beside Laerdil.
It was after the song had ended, when she came to bid farewell for the evening that he felt truly regretful. She was there, right opposite him all the time and he didn't even take a look at her.
"Have you lost something, Laero?" Feren enquired as they walked back home.
"No, I think. Why did you ask?"
"It's nothing. I just felt that she took a piece of your heart back to the palace." Feren winked at him and ran off, ducking the waterskin which was thrown at him. Laerdil smiled - Not just a piece.
