Unspoken ( A Legolas Love Story )

2.6: A Thousand Years

Legolas arose early to savor the fresh air that was scented with spring and to clear his head, particularly on today of all days. He walked alone through the forest as the golden light of dawn sun begun to bathe the trees and their new growth in its glow. His plans for the cabin had been completed about a week ago and the cabin was now filled with various items of furniture made or donated by the villagers. About that time, Gelwin had spied the first of the niphredil poking through the crusty winter earth and had run back to the village excitedly telling everyone she met. The niphredil now lay in plentiful clumps under the trees, their delicate white heads whispering to each of their kin. There must have been a light frost in the early hours of that morning, as every surface around him sparkled gently in the new light, almost as if the forest had been dusted with gems.

His sharp eyes noticed that he was not the only one awake at this time, a being, whose footsteps were small and light, had gone ahead of him gently disturbing the thin layer of ice crystals. He followed the footprints and they took him to the place that he knew they would. He stood quietly on his arrival, at the foot of a large mallorn tree where the elanor were yet to flower and waited.

He did not have to wait long until a voice that made his heart light, spoke.

"Are you making sure I am not running away? Or perhaps you leaving yourself, elf-lord, before it is too late?"

He laughed, as he knew with certainty that she spoke in jest.

"There is no place in Middle Earth, I would rather be, than here!" He smiled and then called, "Are you coming down from your branch meleth e-guilen*?"

"Are you unaware that it is a bad omen for the groom to see his bride on the morn before they are wed?!"

"We have no such tradition amongst the Eldar, so make haste, before I come up there and get you myself!"

As she laughed, and it rippled through the forest like birdsong. She slipped down from her branch. She was dressed in her usual rough ranger's attire, her hair unkempt, but her eyes were twinkling. He felt a fierce, frightening, heart-pounding passion for this little creature as he reached for her hand, drew her into his arms. Wren only had time to utter a soft gasp before he kissed her, tasting what his heart and body desired more than anything. Longing and impatience warred within him, so it was some time before he loosened his embrace and was able to content himself with merely her presence. And it was yet another moment, before Wren found her voice and made a move to halfheartedly push him away.

"Do you want to feel the wrath of Nerwen?" She exclaimed, her eyes shining. "I thought elves were meant to be paragons of patience?"

"I have waited thousand years for this and my patience is now dancing around the edge of its limits!" He grinned as he pulled her back possessively to himself.

She did not resist his embrace, although she warned him. "Well, wait you must, if only for another couple of hours." Then she added "I hope you have enough patience left to grow old with me elf-prince, for I fear you shall need it in large quantities!"

He smiled at her, "I am sure that what patience remains, will suffice!"

Legolas then nodded in the direction of the base of the tree, the burial place of her birth mother, and said gently "Would you like to talk about why you are here?"

Her eyes had lost some of their sparkle, although her half smile remained, "It is my small way of honoring her. I found myself longing for her to be here today. Perhaps her spirit still lingers."

Legolas thoughts were turned towards the absence of his own father on such a day. A wave sadness swept over him at the thought of his own father's disapproval and determination not to be part of his future. "Your mother would have chosen to be here, if she could have," he said softly.