To Love Thy Enemy (Legolas Greenleaf Love Story)

Where My Journy Began

As much as I try, I can not stop thinking about that fateful night.

The night where everything changed.

The night where my hatred for them began.

The night where I was ripped apart from my only family.

The night I lost my mother.

It was just like any other day, waking up to the sweet song of the Mirkwood birds. My mother was off at the bakery to slave away, trying to bring enough thrani home to make ends meet. She had to wake up earlier before me, specifically when the sun kisses the night sky, which means I have to fend for myself till she comes home.

My mother couldn't spend time to teach me like most elven children, nor did she have enough coin to hire me a tutor. She taught me the basics that I needed to know: to read, to write, basic medicine, and occasionally here and there history of all kinds. She mainly told them through stories before she tucked me in, with her busy schedule she alway had time to tell me a story before bed.

Everything else I had to learn on my own. Unlike what most eleven girls around my age would learn to be proper, and ladylike, and how to attract a husband I learned how to fend for myself with a bow, knives, and hand to hand combat, not with out help of course. All the children of my aged hated me or just thought plain strange, except for one boy.

That boy was Legolas Greenleaf.

Yes the prince of Mirkwood was friends with the poorest girl in town and he did not care for my status or how I wasn't like most girls, he liked me for who I was. Just as I did for him, everyone tried to befriend him or girls would try to seduce him because of his status but not me. Im pretty sure I was the only one that treated him like a normal person, that means calling him out when I needed to.

"HEY!" I yelled at the blonde bloke dressed in fancy robes. "You know its rude to knock a person over and not at least apologize!" I said glaring up at the bloke.

A elf around my age 110 to 112  dressed in a pure white fancy shirt, and trousers with brown boots stared down at me in suprisement. He had forest green eyes and medium long, blonde hair with a small braid on the left side of his face. His skin looked smooth and dainty, but pale with the hints of pink. He definitely looked more up on the noble status then some of the other rich elves that lived here.

"Excuse me? Do you know who your speaking too?" A snobbish eleven girl also around the age of 110 to 112 said to me.

"No and frankly I do not care." I retorted back to her.

"Well you should, you have no right to speak to the prince that way! Especially with a low status." She said swooning over him.

"The prince? Figures, your probably the worst out of all the noble children."

He was silent for a moment and offered his hand towards me.

"Your highness?!?! What are you doing?! Do you know who this is?!?! She is the poorest girl in Mirkwood! And your helping her?! I mean look at her!" The elven girl protested.

I mean she was right, I was the poorest girl in Mirkwood, and you could tell that by the I looked. I wore a dull, brown, tatterd dress unlike most of the pretter ones most of the girls wore here, I didn't own shoes so my feet were beated up and scratched a lot, plus I was always covered in dirt (for other reasons)

The prince ignored her screeches and offered his hand to me.

I looked at his hand questionly, but took it and he pulled me up.