“It is not that they don’t like us,” the Elf had explained gently, “they are merely being cautious. “I don’t think they like us,” Legolas had overheard the youngest hobbit say to his cousin. Their manner remained reserved, cool though somewhat distant in the eyes of the Fellowship. Clad in their cloaks of gray, they moved soundlessly and blended effortlessly into their ancient forest. The Galadhrim were tall and fair of face. Still, it was good to be among the Eldar. But the tale of Nimrodel and her star-crossed lover, the Elven Prince Amroth, had a bitter end and his voice faltered as his memory failed him. As they rested by the gentle stream, Legolas had found it within himself to sing once again. Relief spread through the Fellowship to be away from the living darkness of Moria, and the company had soothed their feet in the healing waters of Nimrodel. Even the Dwarf’s mutterings about an evil sorceress of great power had failed to dampen his spirits.
A sense of peace had overcome him the moment he had stepped foot within this sacred realm, easing the burden of Gandalf’s loss. The Mirkwood Prince had never visited the Golden Wood before, and it was though the tales and songs he had heard about the glory of Lothlórien had sprung to life. Their bark was smooth and shone silver gray in the moonlight.
Legolas stood at the edge of the large wooden flet, still looking about in wonder at the mallorn trees that surrounded him. Thanks to her for the inspiration and to Panthera for providing beta. The great man is nubt ubt turning in his grave.Īuthor's Notes: This fic is a response to Catz's challenge. Some dialogue and descriptions are lifted or liberally paraphrased from both mediums.ĭisclaimer: All characters and places belong to Tolkien and New Line Cinema. Pairing(s): Legolas/Haldir, Legolas/Aragornįeedback: Always welcome at AU, OOC, combination of book and movie verse.
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