❝you cannot be serious, you'll kill us all!❞
❝hey I never said it was a good idea!❞
────── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚.
𝙄𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝,
The faerie princess finds herself on a mission to save middle-earth with the most unlikely group.
❴ Fellowship of the Ri...
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RIVENDELL WAS EVERYTHING the stories had promised and more. Waterfalls cascaded down rocky cliffs, their mist catching the sunlight and creating rainbows. The architecture was a blend of nature and Elven craftsmanship, each building seemingly grown from the very rock itself.
Lord Elrond stood at the entrance, his ageless face a mask of serene welcome. "Welcome to Rivendell," he intoned, his voice as timeless as the valley itself. "We have been awaiting your arrival."
As I dismounted, my legs stiff from the long ride, I inclined my head in respect. "Thank you, Lord Elrond. Your hospitality is most appreciated." I paused, choosing my next words carefully. "I confess, I'm uncertain why my mother sent me in her stead. It seems there's much left unexplained."
A flicker of... something passed across Elrond's face. Surprise? Amusement? It was gone before I could decipher it. "Indeed, Princess Liairse. Perhaps the coming days will bring clarity to us all." His gaze shifted to the rest of our company. "Your companion, Frodo Baggins, is recovering. You may visit him if you wish."
As the hobbits scurried off, eager to reunite with their friend, Elrond turned back to me. "Before you rest, Princess, there is someone I believe you should meet."
My heart sank. I knew exactly who he meant, and the realization brought a fresh wave of anxiety. Legolas. The Elven prince I was betrothed to, a stranger I was expected to marry for the sake of political alliance.
Elrond must have sensed my hesitation, for his expression softened. "Do not fear, Princess. He is as nervous as you are."
I couldn't help but let out a laugh. "I highly doubt that, Lord Elrond."
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The garden Elrond led me to was a masterpiece of Elven culture. Flowers of impossible colors bloomed alongside ancient trees, their leaves whispering secrets in the gentle breeze. And there, standing beneath an archway of intertwined vines, was Legolas.
My first thought, much to my chagrin, was that he was unfairly handsome. Tall, with hair like spun gold and eyes that seemed to hold the wisdom of ages. As our gazes met, I saw my own reluctance mirrored in his expression.
Elrond, either oblivious to or purposely ignoring the tension, made the introductions. "Princess Liairse of the Fae, may I present Prince Legolas of Mirkwood."
We exchanged formal bows, our smiles strained but polite. At this, Elrond tactfully excused himself, leaving us alone in the garden.
For a moment, we simply stood in awkward silence. Finally, unable to bear the tension any longer, I spoke.