Building Ithilien [Legolas] LOTR

And She Said Yes

Dinners of state in Minas Tirith were usually held in a large room suitable for numerous tables with a wide floor made for evening entertainments or dancing. On this night however, the Queen had foregone the larger hall for a smaller, more intimate setting. When the elves joined the room, a hush ran over the table among the few noble folk who regularly dined with the queen and king. Celeril and Miredhel were in lovely form, and Legolas and Adrendil, with their intense eyes, height, and broad shoulders, cut imposing figures among even the most hearty of men in the room. The captain pulled Miredhel's seat out for her, as was custom for an escort to do. She quietly took her place toward the center of the table, but her eyes lingered on the prince across the way, on her far left. He had obviously taken more care than usual with his appearance this night. His hair was sleek, his cheeks rosy, as though he had scrubbed his face not too long ago, and his tunic fit perfectly upon him. He was immaculate. When he turned his eyes toward her, she quickly looked away. She did not blush as one might usually do when caught staring, but merely looked down at the elaborate place setting before her. Miredhel dared not look up, for she still felt the mighty thrust of his gaze upon her. There was no way of knowing whether he looked upon her with pity or perhaps distrust, or even anger, and for perhaps the thousandth time that day, Miredhel regretted their argument in the garden that afternoon. Although his words at the time had merely served to anger her, she had relived every syllable since, many times over, and now she simply felt horrible. And convicted too. She had lost his trust, and rightfully so, for her actions had done little to recommend it.

She did not look up again until she heard the lifting of glasses in a toast.

"Friends and subjects," called Aragorn standing before his chair at the end of the table, "we face the beginning of a great deed tomorrow. Our brave men, guards and soldiers of Gondor and the White City, will leave at first morning's light. We go to defend our people and freedom from the wrath of our enemies." The king eyed the elf beside him.

"Prince Legolas has pledged his aid and warriors to join us in this cause as well."

Miredhel sucked in her breath.

Aragorn solemnly continued, "Let us rejoice in our friends who lend us strength in this dark hour." The king lifted his cup in the air. "To brotherhood! And to Victory!"

"Brotherhood! Victory!" the room thunderously echoed.

Yet one lonely maiden hardly heard them. Miredhel only thought of Legolas and the fact that he would leave in the morning. She assumed that the war party Aragorn spoke of would head for Calenfen. She would not ask Legolas if she might go with him. From their conversation earlier, Miredhel felt that she could safely predict what his answer to that question might be. And even though she had longed to go as one of the soldiers into battle, Miredhel's thoughts now dwelled on Legolas alone. He would leave in the morning, their bitter fight unresolved, oblivious to the knowledge of her true sentiments.

For the rest of the meal, she stoically choked down the helpings of food before her, nodding complacently to Adrendil's witty, or so he thought, conversation. Now and then her eyes flitted to the prince at the end of the table, and with every stolen glance, Miredhel felt like her heart might twist into some permanently unrecognizable, painful shape. Grief too now lurked in the dark corners of her mind, greedily anticipating the pain that would follow losing Legolas. Miredhel morbidly supposed that she would not be so fortunate as to stave off fading this time around, but with this said, she neither regretted meeting Legolas, nor loving him. Little would she change if given a second chance to be with him. When he dared her to compete in the archery tournament, she still would have chosen to make the bet against him winning and gladly accept kissing him as his award. She still would have loyally followed him to his father's wood. She would have ridden to his side at the bridge at the Anduin to help him against the dragon. She would have let him decorate her hair with his flowers at that bonfire and kissed him in his tent. None of these events, and few in between, would she have changed for any price.