Legolas

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Admitting Without Words

Harthriel sat alone at Rivendell. She had arrived with the elves of Mirkwood as she had taken over from Captain of Guard. Her older sister, Níniel, had greeted her with open arms and was determined to tear her away from the job she had been sent to do. There was also Níniel's husband, Arradion, who was just as determined. And so, despite Harthriel's protests, she was dragged away. And she couldn't return to her people until  the meeting took place in which they escorted her too. It almost made her late. And she hated being late: she prefered to be early or on time. Regardless, she had decided to join the fellowship.

She had hoped to get underway quickly, but Elrond's scouts were scouting the perimeter, checking that the coast was clear for them to leave. Currently, she was sat down on an elegantly carved wooden bench that looked out at the view of the mountains. Her hands were in her lap as Harthriel looked away from the view and down to her hands. Her dark green pants were a darker shade than usual, almost looking black, and her dark brown boots were stained with mud.

 

Harthriel enjoyed the silence. It was relaxing and calming. She could just think and not get distracted. She was worried - concerned - for those on the journey to destroy the ring. The halflings, Frodo, Sam, Merry and Pippin, had never been out of the Shire, or Hobbington for that matter, just like every other hobbit to have lived. She could roughly understand Frodo and Pippin as they were both related in some way. Even it was just via Bilbo's mother being a Took. She was worried all the same.

"Nae saian luume', Harthriel." Came the voice of a familiar Sindarin elf. She stood out of respect and turned towards the voice. In front of her was a sight she did not think to see until they began the journey. It was the Prince himself. 

"Ar' amin ped- i' atya' lle, Legolas." Harthriel bowed her head in respect. She looked back up to find Legolas standing beside her, gazing at the view.

"It is beautiful, is it not, Harthriel?" Legolas asked her softly.

Harthriel nodded, "Indeed it is, my Lord." She looked back out to the horizon. The wind had picked up to be a mere breeze. But she couldn't help but look at the Prince of Mirkwood. His fair hair came down to the small of his back, as most elven hair did, and it fluttered steadily in the air.  It looked so soft and silky. She badly just wanted to touch it, but it was against protocol. She was still a Mirkwood guard.

She remembered when he first looked at her. She had seen him around, but her promotion was the first time he had noticed her. Harthriel had quickly fallen in love with his serene blue eyes. 

"Please," Legolas' voice brought her out of her thoughts, "Don't call me 'My Lord.' Legolas will do fine."

Harthriel  wasn't sure how to respond. Sure, she often called him Legolas, but only in greeting. Most of the time she called him 'My Lord' out of respect and protocol. "But - My Lo - Legolas, that is not protocol."  She stated, shocked.

Legolas smiled, and she thought her heart shattered like weak glass, "Who cares about protocol?" He asked rhetorically, "Because I don't. " He looked at her, staring into her emerald eyes. 

Now that comment really did hit the Sindarin elf. Not once had she heard him say that he did not care about protocol. Not once. And that made her feel suspicious. She looked back at the horizon, "And what makes you say that, Legolas?"

"Well," Legolas began, "There's this guard. She's brilliant. The best I ever saw." 

Harthriel felt her heart grow heavier. Like jealously had began to pour into her soul. "What's she like?" 

"She's strong, determined and stubborn. She believes in protocol and she would never back down from a fight, even if it meant risking her own life. And she certainly isn't afraid of death." The Prince of Mirkwood described, "She has the heart of a lion. She is skilled - a mighty warrior and bowman - but i fear that she is hiding away from me. I catch her stealing glances on the way here, but then nothing. She hides away. Just like she is now, and I cannot seem to find her." He paused and looked at Harthriel, "Tur lle tua amin?"

Harthriel blinked as a small blush crept onto her cheeks, "But I believe you have found her, hîr nín." She said bluntly, " For this woman who have described is deep in your heart and thoughts."

"And yet she is not even allowing herself to come to terms with it as she stares off into the distance." The Prince finished. 

And then, silence followed. It wasn't a silence that people hated, it was a comforting silence. Though the tension quickly built as dusk began to fall. The scouts would be returning soon.

"Vanimle sili tiri hen dû." Legolas stated, a smile on his lips. He put a finger under Harthriel's chin. He wanted to see her face. He wanted to see what he had accomplished. He wanted to know if he was any closer to his goal. And she looked at him.

Harthriel blushed, "There is a man," She stated, "Who has driven me onto a quest with dangerous paths. For I would not have gone if he had not obliged to. But I was worried for, not only the hobbits, but for him as well. For he is my everything. But I fear that he does not see me as such as his father would not allow such a thing."

"And why wouldn't his father allow this feeling to grow?"

"Because the man I love is a prince, and his father a king. It is against protocol to-"

But before Harthriel could continue, she felt soft lips crash onto her own. She was taken aback, but replied after her resistances failed. She was definitely breaking protocol, but she did not care as her head swam at how perfectly his lips moulded with hers. But it ended all too soon.  She allowed herself and Legolas to catch their breaths for a few moment before pulling him again, kissing him passionatly. After a while, they broke apart again.

And Legolas chuckled. "Now look who rebelled against their protocol."

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Elvish :
Names -
Harthiel;
((Hartha - To Hope) + (iell - Daughter of))

Níniel - Tear-maidan

Arradion
(Arrad - (Without a path )+ ion - son of))

Phrases-
Ar' amin ped- i' atya' lle - And I say the same to you
Nae saian lumme' - It has been too long
Tur lle tua amin - Can you help me?
hîr nín - my lord
Vanimle sili tiri hen dû - your beauty shines bright this nightfall

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