Feä Bond (Legolas x OC)

Skating worries away

After a few days, the young lady couldn't take it anymore, and found her refuge in books. There, she sometimes met Bilbo. He told her about middle earth stories while they drank tea, and showed her many maps. One day, Estel joined them, in need of some distractions from his duties. Hobbit, girl and ranger settled around a table to recall the songs of old. Frances was totally enthralled by the legends of Númenor, and those of the first age. She asked so many questions that even Estel could not respond. With time, she was starting to fathom how heavy the ranger's destiny weighted over his shoulders, and she was getting to know the man under the cloak of appearances. As for the hobbit, his jovial self hid something much darker, some kind of melancholy which origin she could not pin point. When Bilbo stated something about eating cakes and went away, Frances dared asking to the ranger about it. Estel's eyes darkened.

- "I believe it is the presence of the ring, and its loss at the same time that affects Bilbo" he said, his eyes lost into nothingness.

After all, Frances had seen the ring before Glorfindel came to collect Frodo. It was only fitting that she knew of its origins. This is how Frances heard about the full story, and needless to say that it darkened her mood. The imminent war motivated her, and it was in a brand new state of mind that she came back to her sword fighting lessons.

On afternoons, Arwen had decided to teach her how to ride. The young girl's dislike of horses had probably shown a tad too much, because the mare she was to mount seemed very nervous at first. Little by little though, she became accustomed to being carried around by the white beast. It didn't mean she liked it though, much preferring long strolls to any kind of horse riding. However, when Frances didn't struggle so much with her mare, the promenade with Arwen could be interesting. Standing alongside legendary beings was unreal, and Frances felt that her life had become a daydream as time flew by. A routine started to set up. A friendship developed with all siblings of Elrond, and little by little her fighting and riding skills improved. When she had time though, Frances spent it in the library, or wandering alone in the mountains around Rivendell.

Winter came, and with it some ice and snow. This is how she found out a frozen lake at the top of the mountains, a few hours from the magnificent city of Imladris. With a little help from the twins, the young lady managed to build a pair of ice skates. This is how her free time was spent while winter's clutches finally settled in the valley.

One day, the prince of Greenwood arrived in the city with a delegation. The next day, a company of dwarven pilgrims came to visit Lord Elrond's last homely house, a rarely feat indeed ! Something was building up, but Frances was oblivious to this, caught into her routine. She would, however, not escape the political dinner that the master of Imladris had organized for the evening. Therefore, as snow covered the ground and it wasn't fit for riding, the young lady escaped towards the lake to release the pressure of such formal dinner.

The prince Legolas, accosted by the sons of Elrond, agreed to an afternoon stroll as his legs ached from the long ride from his homely kingdom. This is how he came to see the young human whose prophecy had been chanted over generations, albeit he was oblivious to it.

Gracefully gliding over the ice was an unusual feminine silhouette, her movements fluently creating a strange choregraphy. It was too harsh and energetic to be of elvish influence, and so was she. Turning infinitely around an invisible axis, her long reddish hair was flowing around her as if inhabited by a spirit of its own. Her moves denounced her as a descendant of men, but there was such a mystical dimension escaping from her skidding form that he could not relate to any of the people he had met. His bright eyes narrowing to get a closer look, he eventually managed to get a glimpse at her face. Appearing and disappearing from his sight were her delightful hazel eyes, her expression most of the time hidden by tangled red hair covering her face while she danced. It was difficult to get a precise idea of her height, but she didn't seem very tall. However, her thin body screamed of muscular and equilibrium control. After all those years fighting evil, the prince knew at first sight how to recognize a potential warrior, and she definitely was. This information sunk into his brain as a shock. There was only one place were women could be allowed to fight, and those women were shieldmaidens of the Eorlingas. Her deep red hair denounced her from another place; she could not hail from Rohan.