The Elf from the North
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Info: This is totally fictional and personally this is what I would like to happen but secretly, as this is very personal.
I look around me and I see the golden woods standing proud and tall above me. The leaves let off a golden glow that moves my heart. Like pillars, the trees remain steady and still; like the Sun, ever aging, yet still strong and undying. Peaceful they are, just and nature lovers are they who live with them. That is what my mother told me long before the Third Age arrived and the War of The Ring began. It ails my heart when I start to think about the history of it all and the One who sits in the Dark Tower, the One who started it all.
The Golden Woods was the only place where I could go to. I have been living in the Golden Woods of Lothlorien for a long time now. The time I set my foot here I do not remember. However, I have never laid eyes on the Lady of Lorien once since I came to know these Woods. Never have I heard the Lady’s voice once too, nor felt her presence anywhere near me. I did set my eyes on her husband once, and only once and that was long ago too.
This is where the history stops and my tale begins. I first heard whispers of strangers from distant lands arriving on the Lands of the Golden Wood from wandering tongues. Eight strangers there were. Four were beings that were half our height. Two Men of great stature, proud and strong. A dwarf it seems was in our Woods too. And an elf, an elf from faraway made the trip here too. My heart skipped at the thought of the outside elf. I had to witness the elf stranger for myself. I quickly made haste and headed for the Lady’s House. That was where they were said to have arrived.
Scouring from high above a tree top, I could make out shadows of five short beings and three tall persons. This is the first time I have seen such queerness in the Golden Woods. Barely a whisper could be heard from my lookout. Hopes of them staying secretly rose in my heart. Minutes passed by and I saw them leave the House and set out for the west of the Woods. They would be staying there for that is where guests and visitors would usually sleep for the night. The Lady is very kind to her visitors. Walking lightly on my feet, I ran for the West of the Woods. Perhaps I could offer them my hospitality I thought.
Reaching there, I saw many others clamoring about the strangers. Especially about the strange elf. I could hear whispers about the elf hailing from Northern Mirkwood. That is a faraway place. What would an elf be doing so far away from his home? And why is he with these people not of his kind at all? I had to get the answers myself. I planned to speak with the elf when the stars shall shine and the Moon shows her pale silver face.
Hours passed by fast and soon it was time for me to make my move. I approached their resting place unnoticed and saw camps of tents put up with shadows moving about inside. The dwarf emerged out of the first tent, followed by one of the other short beings. A few feet away, on an overgrown tree root, the two men spoke to each other with solemn voices and faces in the common speech. Lastly and finally, my strange kinsman appeared from behind a towering tree. He had the same flawless fair skin as our race and was slightly taller than the men. Strangely enough, as I stared at him, my heart gave a leap or jolt as I continued to view him from afar. Never had I encountered such a feeling as this. What is this I am feeling? The only way I knew I would know was to meet this elf. My yearn to know him was too great and I emerged from my hiding place. Elves can sense the presence of anyone near oneself. He turned swiftly around and stared at me with deep interest. He was dressed in pearl white and his pale golden hair gave him a certain glow of beauty.
“It seems you yearn to know one of your own kind, though he appears strange and is not from these Woods. I do not deny I noticed you before. I saw you at a tree top at my first step into the Lady’s House. My kinsmen from Northern Mirkwood call me Legolas. By what are you called here?” asked Legolas in the elven speech.
“You are a Sindarin Elf, are you not? I have heard of your kind and the King of Northern Mirkwood, Thranduil. He has a son, and you are him,” I replied softly. So he is the son of Thranduil, Legolas Greenleaf. Now what would an elf prince be roaming the lands when he could be safe in his royal home. Legolas stared very intensely at me, as if asking me to go on.
“My mother gave me the name of Galendeloth. Have you any other questions? Otherwise I shall do the asking if you please,” I continued. Legolas merely smiled at me silently. “Galendeloth. That is a beautiful name. It is worthy of the Lady’s praise, I must say,” said Legolas. He looked very interested in me, “Why do you visit us now so late after light? Did our appearance surprise you before?” continued the elf prince.
“I do not intend to surprise anyone. Nor do you I believe. You appear as travelers I have noticed. What brings five dwarves, two men and an elf here? Surely not by the purpose of searching for the Lady of the Golden Woods. You would have brought every one of your people here if by that purpose. And what would a dwarf and Men be interested in the Lady by any chance.” My heart cringed at the word of ‘dwarf’. Elves are not fond of the dwarves since history would be told. And the dwarves that are resting here are the first dwarves to set foot in the Golden Wood since Durin’s Day.
Legolas held back a laugh as he heard me speak those words. And as if for the first time, I noticed he was very fair looking. In fact one of the fairest elves I have ever encountered. My heart gave that same jolt again, like the first time I saw him. What did this mean? I pursued further to get some answers about his strange tale.
“Are you sure by what you say? For my tale is long and tiresome. I’m afraid it may be too tedious for you, my fair elven maiden,” said Legolas gently. His words were like songs to my ears.
“I love tales from afar. My life too is a tale if you would believe me. I would most certainly love to hear yours. Your companions and you, my dear elf prince, intrigue me so,” I replied to his response. Legolas smiled and seemed pleased about something. He sat down on the soft leaf strewn ground and offered me to sit down next to him. Thus, he began to tell me his tale of where and when it all started. I was dazzled by his wondrous story and by Legolas himself too. We conversed throughout the night beneath the heavens of the stars. He was just as fascinated by my tale as I was amazed by his. When the Sun rose from the hills, we had just finished our story telling.
“She is waking from under the hills. Soon my companions and I will have to leave these Woods, and you, my fair Galendeloth,” said Legolas as his slender hand reached for mine. My hand rejected his. His face turned solemn. I was afraid. Afraid of Legolas, I could hardly believe that. My feelings for him rose desperately. I really wanted to be with Legolas. Forever if time allowed. I cannot hide my feelings anymore. But it is impossible, the other side of my heart said. Disheartened, I had to agree.
“My heart is aching, Legolas. We cannot be together. I am sure you know that. You are a traveler and a warrior, free spirited and strong. I, on the underside, have to remain here as Galendeloth, trapped and frail, in the Golden Woods with the Lady Galadriel and her people which includes me,” I told him with so much grieve in my voice, I swear I could have passed into the Grey Havens there. Legolas’ face showed much grieve as well. He could not take anymore sadness. He had just lost a companion in the shadows before the Fellowship came here.
We did not speak any more words, fearing of the grieve we might have to suffer later. Legolas and I rose, and looked into each others’ eyes. That was too much for me then as I quickly turned and ran off blindly leaving Legolas staring after me. A few days after, the Fellowship left on the boats of Lorien and with precious gifts that the Lady Galadriel gave them for their journey ahead. I did not leave Legolas anything behind regretfully. As the four hobbits, two men, the dwarf left, I saw Legolas looking out for the Lady. The I realized, he was not looking for the Lady Galadriel but for me, for I was standing behind her as she bid them farewell. Legolas’ eyes showed so much sadness I could barely face him any longer. As the last of the boats disappeared from view, I turned and walked away as tears crept down my face gently.