Elenath

Summer Templeton's grandmother had always told her never to talk to strange Elves in the woods, or anywhere else for that matter, or she might find herself swept away to another world never to be seen again. As a child growing up in rural Indiana, this warning had frightened her greatly and she always stayed away from the forests that grew and creeks that ran all about her house. Then as a teenager, she rolled her eyes at the very idea of Elves. Elves! She began to agree with some of the locals who said her grandmother had a few screws loose.

“Crazy old woman thinks she met an elf one day back in `76!” they'd guffaw when they thought that Summer was out of earshot. “I hear those mountains down south'll do that do a person - make `em think they see things they really don't.”

Summer never understood anything they were talking about and didn't much care. Having no memory of her father or mother, she bestowed all of the love she would have given both on this one dear old woman who had raised her from infanthood.

That love hadn't grown less now that Summer was 25, and that fact certainly didn't make saying goodbye any easier. Her grandmother was dying and Summer felt that her heart would surely break. On that final day as she waited for the Hospice nurse to arrive, the young woman slowly ran a brush through her grandmother's long silver-white hair and thought about all of the wrongs Grandmother had righted, and all of the hurts she had soothed. Junior high school had been particularly rough, she recalled. The other children teased her mercilessly because of her ears. They were not overly large and didn't stick out as is the case with most ears that are laughed at. In fact they were perfectly lovely ears aside from the fact that they were pointed. Oh, they'd called her names. Summer smiled as she remembered some of them, and Grandmother asked what she was thinking of.

“You couldn't stand the thought of being Mrs. Spock. You wanted to marry Captain Kirk. You were always such a fanciful child, thinking up grand adventures and writing poetry. And always singing too…. Would you sing a song for me now, Summer?”

Summer thought for a moment, twirling a ringlet of her dark auburn hair around her finger. Merriment danced in her hazel eyes and she stood up and put her hand over her heart and sang a song about a fair maiden who sat on a rock and did not want to marry a Vulcan named Spock.

“No, Child. There will be plenty of time for that where I'm going.” She sighed. “Please sit here next to me because there is something that I would like to tell you. My time to do so grows short. I can feel it in these old bones.”

Grandmother smiled and patted Summer's hand. “Then trust my judgment now, child, and know that it is necessary to tell this story. I pray that you believe what I say.” She paused and looked the young woman right in the eyes as she said, ”Your mother and father were Wood-Elves, Summer, and so are you.”

And the old woman told of the vacation she took back in the Summer of '76 to the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina all by herself “because I was a stubborn old mule,” she laughed. She told how she had hiked deep into the mountains and found the most wonderful, pure mountain stream and had sat there on a rock just basking in the sun, listening to the burbling water and watching the trees sway back and forth when, out of nowhere, two radiantly beautiful people appeared, one with a small bundle in her arms.

“When I say they appeared out of nowhere, Summer, I mean it. They didn't pop out from behind a tree or a rock. One moment there was nothing and the next moment there were the two of them, panting and gasping for breath as if they had been running from something and very frightened. They were your parents and the bundle was you.”

She told how the Elven couple had spoken to her desperately, begging her to take the child and care for her until she was fully grown because their world was no longer safe for such a treasure. “They said they would come back for you, Summer, if the evil lessened in their land, and to keep you near water and wood that they might find you.

“I warned you away from the wood and water because I so came to love you that I never wanted to let you go, not even when you were fully grown. But now I am leaving this world and have realized the error of my ways. Of course you must go back, Summer, and soon.”

She walked carefully away to get it, shaking her head. Poor Grandma. It was bad enough that the cancer had stolen her ability to care for herself and enjoy life. Now it seemed to be taking her mind as well. Perhaps she would never know the truth about her parents. Lifting the shoe-box out of its hiding place, her fingers tingled a bit but she took no notice. On the lid her grandmother had written the word “Elenath.”

“Elenath,” her grandmother whispered when the box was handed to her. It send a warm sensation through Summer's heart. “That was your Elven name, you know. Here.” She lifted the lid and pulled out a delicate chain of the purest gold Summer had ever seen. On it hung a green jewel that seemed to move inside when she gazed into it. “Look into the stone, child. I never could see anything, but your mother swore you'd be able to see right to your true home if you ever longed for it.”

“See,” said Grandmother, “Your old Grandma still has her wits about her.” She took a map from the box as well and handed it to Summer. “You must go back. I've marked the place in red and I hope that they'll send someone for you. If not, there is a curious marking on one of the stones there. All you have to do is touch it and speak your name and you will be home.”

That night long after her grandmother had gently passed on to her heavenly home and the hospice nurse had gone away, Summer sat and thought. She felt such great sorrow at the loss she had just experienced that she felt she herself might die. Restlessly pacing the old house, she realized that there was nothing here for her now. What would it hurt to follow the old map? Who would notice her disappearance aside from a few scattered acquaintances? What did she have to loose? After all, if she got there and nothing happened, she could always come back and return to life as usual. No one would blame her for taking a long vacation.

friend Kara who was due to return from a Caribbean Cruise later that day, and David, her Jui-Juitsu (martial art) and Ken-do (Japanese fencing) sensei (teacher). She sighed, realizing that she would be unable to say goodbye to either and wrote notes to both of them, detailing what her grandmother had told her the previous evening and

apologizing for leaving so suddenly. David would take it especially hard, she knew, for he was like an overprotective brother to her. However, it could not be helped and she left the notes on the kitchen table, picked up her few little pieces of luggage, and walked out of the door.

It was hard to leave that little church behind after the service that morning. The little fellowship of believers had become her safe haven in a world full of children who berated and made fun of her: little girls who were jealous of her pretty eyes and little boys who despised her because she could beat them at everything from foot-races to make-believe sword-fights. At the church, she had always just been Summer. Not Summer the Vampire Bat or Mrs. Spock. In fact she would never forget the words that Pastor Mike spoke to her the day after she got stood up for the Prom.

everything familiar behind because of those pointy ears. She stood contemplating this until Pastor Mike asked her if there was anything he could do for her. "I'm sorry to hear your grandmother died," he said softly, compassion showing in his kind eyes. Summer nodded. "She isn't suffering anymore. I will miss her terribly, but I know she's much happier where she is." "And you will see her again someday," he said. Unless I really do live forever, she thought but said, "Pastor Mike, do you believe in Elves?" His eyes sparkled, like a child's when it makes a new

quite a journey." "How do you know that?" she asked. The Pastor shrugged. "Just a feeling, I guess. Sometimes the Good Lord gives me an idea of what's to come. Don't forget your Bible." She smiled and hugged him goodbye, and soon found herself behind the wheel of her green Saturn driving toward the mountains of North Carolina with a backpack full of clothes, food, water, and a Bible. The old map lay on the passenger seat next to her and the Elven

necklace hung prettily around her neck. "By this time tomorrow, I will either be among the Elves… or I'll still be here." She laughed at her obvious statement and began to sing a song of her own about wonderful grandmothers and ridiculous quests and Pastors who seem to know too much.

The place her grandmother had been twenty-five years earlier had changed quite a bit, so much that Summer had to stop and buy an updated map at a gas station. The attendant gave her directions to the Blue Ridge Parkway which, he said, would be a good place to start if she were looking for natural beauty.

there a tendril of smoke rose from a distant cabin. But she knew she could not linger here for long, so she sat down on the grass, unfolded her grandmother's map once again, and sat puzzling over it for a long time. Finally a park ranger pulled off the road next to her and jumped out of his Jeep Cherokee, his hands in his pockets. "Well, then, you're lookin' kinda lost. Anythin' in perticular you're lookin' for?"

She smiled at his accent. It seemed to go perfectly with the setting she was in. "Yes, actually. My grandmother visited here a long time ago and hiked to a certain spot. I'm trying to find it, but the road has changed and so have the trails. Can you help me?" "Let me see…" he looked at the old map and smiled. "You only lack just a few miles. It's just down yonder, that a'way. Should be a sign there, says `Camp Creek Overlook.' Trail there'll lead you pretty

close to the place. It'll be a short hike, actually. Back in the day this map was printed, it would have taken you a good hour or two to hike in from the trailhead, but now it'll just take you about five minutes." And so, with many thanks to the ranger, she set off down the road toward the Camp Creek Overlook, becoming more nervous and excited by the moment.

Summer parked her car next to the sign the Ranger had told her to look for and climbed out. There were no other cars there, and for that she was thankful. She began to wonder, though, how wise it really would be to go into the woods all by herself without a weapon of some kind. It would be just her luck to get attacked on her way to

meet the Elves. Shrugging, she opened the trunk of the Saturn and took out her Japanese Katana. Many a sparring match she had won with the sword in her Ken-do classes back in Indiana. It felt perfectly natural tucked into her belt. That out of the way, she put on her day pack, took a swig of water from her canteen and started happily down the trail without even looking back. The trees were dense and green on either side of the path, and after she walked a short while, she saw more and more mountain laurel until it was so thick it seemed she was walking through a tunnel of it. Then suddenly, the path opened up to the rocky banks of a babbling stream. The place was exactly as her grandmother had described it - the pure mountain stream, the trees, the burbling water and mossy rocks. "Hello?" she called tentatively, hoping against hope that maybe someone would be here waiting for her. "Anybody here?" She chuckled, wondering if perhaps she had gone insane. "Any Elves around?"

She leapt spryly onto a rock in the middle of the water and looked around, breathing the fresh mountain air deep into her lungs. Is this where her parents had appeared? And where were they now? Were they still alive or… would she never come to know them? Slowly, she sat down and sighed, hoping that someone would show up to escort her home to… To where? She didn't even know that much. She looked into the jewel that hung around her neck once again to bolster her confidence and saw the forest and the Elves who roamed through it. This was no

An hour passed, and then two and she began to eat a light snack of trail mix. She wrote a few things in her journal during the third hour and sang a little song during the fourth until finally she could stand the suspense no more. She would find the mark herself, unescorted, and pray that she did not get herself utterly lost in whatever new world she found herself. From rock to rock she hopped, upstream and down looking for the `curious mark' Grandmother had described. For a while she feared she would never find it, but then, just as daylight was beginning to fail her, she found a well-worn strangely scratched symbol on the side of a tall rock that was level

Immediately, the world began to spin fast around her and she clung onto the rock for dear life, screaming and scrunching her eyes closed. After what seemed like an eternity, the sensation stopped and she tentatively opened one eye and then the other only to find that she was in the exact same spot as she had been just moments ago: on a rock in the middle of a little stream. Only the light seemed a little different. And the terrain wasn't so hilly.

"Tampa! Mankoi naa lle sinome?" Shouted a male voice suddenly, and she scrambled to her feet. Turning around, she gasped. There were three Elven archers there, their arrows at the ready and fixed on her. So majestic were they that, if she was not in fear of her life, she would have thought they were angels. As it was, however, each of

The three Elves began to talk to each other in serious tones, using a language so rich and beautiful that it sounded as if it were made of the earth and the wind and the water. Elenath marvelled at it and wondered if she would ever speak so beautifully herself.

This answer seemed to satisfy her and she took his hand and gracefully leapt to the bank on which he stood. "Thank you, Thorondil. I… Please forgive me. Where I come from, there are no Elves." She paused. "Except for me, I guess, and I didn't even know I was one `til a couple of days ago."

She looked down at herself and shrugged. What was so strange about her sturdy hiking boots, blue jeans, and flannel shirt? The sword was a little much, she had to admit, but a woman has to protect herself. Besides, the Elf seemed to be keenly interested in it especially.

"I have a third degree black belt in Jui Juitsu," she said and was met with three bemused looks from the Elves. She sighed. "I'll show you if you want. One of you has to attack me." She set her pack on the ground and mentally prepared herself. "Go ahead. Try and grab me like you're trying to beat me up."

For a long moment, the three exchanged confused glances until suddenly one of Throrondil's friends obliged and lunged at her head-long. She simply stepped out of the way and he splashed into the water. He was up in a flash and grabbed her from behind. Before anyone really knew what happened, she sent him flying through the air

Thorondil nodded. “But do not worry or be afraid. It has been different for you than for most of our kind. Elves are not usually reborn as children. In your case, the Valar made an exception that you might be protected from the wrath of the orcs. Maybe someday yet you will remember.”

They hiked for hours after that through the forest until Elenath began to grow weary and stumble over tree roots, rocks, and, once, even her own feet. It had been early evening when she left her former home behind and now it was late afternoon here. She must have arrived just after dawn and had gone nearly 24 hours without sleep. Finally they stopped for a short rest, during which she lay her head against a tree and fell fast asleep.

Legolas, the heir to the throne of Mirkwood, had been watching the shadows move with the sun as it crossed the sky. He worried about the small scout party he had sent to the Northern border of the Wood. They should have returned hours ago with news of the enemy's movements. With his father away, he took his responsibility to keep the realm safe seriously. The sun was dipping low in the sky when he called a small party together to go in search of the missing Elves, and just as he was about to mount his horse, he was stopped.

The prince let out a relieved sigh and turned to see his scouts returning and Thorandil carrying something… or actually someone. Someone with long dark auburn curls and delicate features, he saw as the little party came nearer. She bore a strong resemblence to someone he had known, though it took a moment for him to place her. When he finally did, his eyes widened.

“Elenath…” Legolas spoke the name as if it were a prayer, and as he did so a change came over his face. Brightness returned to his blue eyes and joy to the curve of his mouth. Even his long blond hair seemed to shine with new luster in the setting sun. He gazed at the Elf in Thorondil's arms. “Who is this?” he asked, hardly daring to hear the answer. “And why do you carry her so?”

Trouble clouded the prince's eyes for the briefest of moments. “It matters not,” he replied, just gazing at her as she slept. He never would have believed it possible, but she was even more beautiful than she had been in her previous form. “She is home at last and that is what matters.” He leaned near and kissed her forehead lightly, whispering, “Cormamin lindua ele lle, Amaelamin. My heart sings to see thee, my beloved.”

Elenath awoke briefly in the night to hear heavenly voices singing hauntingly beautiful melodies in a tongue she did not understand. Had she arrived in heaven, she wondered? For a brief moment, she thought about getting up out of bed to find where the lovely music was coming from. Then she changed her mind, afraid she would disturb the singers and cause them to stop. In a way, she thought she was still dreaming, but she also knew that she was fully awake, though she drifted in and out of slumber. That feeling lingered as she woke the next morning with a song on her lips.

It came forth softly at first as she stretched luxuriously out on the bed and grew stronger as she rose and donned a silken robe that had been left for her. She sang as she carefully brushed her hair out and as she gazed out into the forest. Somehow the absence of solid walls did not disturb her here. She didn't care who could hear her, who could see her.

Elenath gasped in surprise, spinning around and dropping her hairbrush in the process. Her surprise doubled as she met the gaze of the Elf who stood there and could have sworn she was looking into her own eyes. She opened her mouth to say something, but no words would come.

“Yes. Twice have I given you birth. Twice have I lost you. And now have I found you again at last. I cannot tell you how happy I am that you are home. Nae saian luume. It has been too long.” With that, she stepped forward and wrapped Elenath in a warm embrace.

“My WHAT?!” Elenath had never been one for fainting spells and did not intend to faint now, though the room seemed to tilt at an odd angle. She sank into a nearby chair and closed her eyes for a moment, taking deep breaths. “Thorondil failed to tell me that Prince Legolas is my husband.” It felt strange to say that word, and she suddenly felt oddly cheated. She had been on precious few dates, had never been truly courted or proposed to, and now she found out she was married. She began to be afraid. “What if I don't like him? What if I don't want to be his wife? What if I don't want to be a princess? Will he toss me in the dungeon?”

Llilwen did her best to calm her as she helped her daughter to bathe and arrange her waist-length hair prettily away from her face so that it cascaded beautifully down her back. The gown they chose was pale green and seemed to shimmer in the light.

“You will like Legolas,” said her mother. “He is gentle, good and kind, fierce in battle and skilled with the bow… and very handsome. Many an Elf maiden wept on the day that you married him. He would never do anything to hurt you, least of all lock you in a dungeon. He loves you very much. On the day that you died we almost lost him as well, so strong was his grief. As for being his wife, you already are that, the same as you are already a princess. Do not worry or be afraid. The memories will come.”

Elenath looked into a mirror and almost didn't recognize herself. The ears she had so long tried to hide were uncovered for the whole world to see, and she liked them. The flowers twined through her hair made her look like something from a fairy tale, and the color of her dress caught the hint of green in her hazel eyes perfectly.

Elenath had never been so nervous in her life. She wrung her hands as she walked through the wood with her mother, trying to put herself into the shoes of the Prince. She knew he must remember every moment of their life together while she herself remembered nothing. He had loved her very much according to Llilwen. What would it be like for him to look into the eyes of his beloved after… how many years?… and see no hint of recognition there? Well, Elenath had had her heart broken too many times in that other world to wish the same pain on anyone else. If the prince really did love her she would try her best to return that love. “Help me, Father,” she prayed under her breath. “Help me remember him. Help me not to be afraid. Let him not be disappointed in me.”

Prince Legolas was pondering the very same thing as he drew back his bowstring and took aim at a target far off in the woods. It had been fifty long years since he had held his wife in his arms. Fifty years! Was it true that she remembered nothing? He had only gazed upon Elenath's sleeping face once since she returned to him, yet though her appearance was certainly different than before, he already knew that she was lovelier than ever. And the spirit within her… of course that would have remained unchanged.

Her spirit had always been a veritable canvas of vibrant colors: the gentleness of a lamb mingled with the fierceness of a warrior; delicate femininity entwined with strong independence; cool detachment mixed with fiery passion. Her complexity, along with her beauty, was what had attracted Legolas to her in the first place; and now it was also what held him to her. That, and his love. His heart had never known such love.

The arrow flew to its mark and he sighed, worrying that he would not be able to control himself in her presence. He longed to kiss her, hold her, caress her, whisper words of love in her ear. But he did not want to frighten her. He had waited for fifty years, and he would wait a thousand more if necessary.

Elenath could only stand there staring in unbelief, her hands trembling visibly despite her effort to still them. He was the most beautiful creature she had ever seen. Legolas stood a good six inches taller than herself; he had chiseled features and long blond hair adorned with a very few small braids. Her fear subsided a little bit when she saw his eyes. Eyes bluer than any sky she had ever beheld, and filled with more love than she thought could possibly be directed at her. How could she ever forget such eyes? Surely it would be impossible. Yet, try as she might to remember, she had no recollection of him.

His voice sent shivers up her spine and suddenly her legs seemed to have a mind of their own. They carried her closer to him where she knelt on the leafy forest floor. Opening her mouth, she was utterly surprised at what came out. “Amin naa tuall Caun Legolas.”

She tore her gaze away from him and glanced back at her mother, questions in her eyes. Llilwen seemed to read her mind. “You just said, `I am your servant, Prince Legolas.' It is in this way that you greeted him upon your first meeting over one thousand years ago.” With that, she turned and walked away saying, “I will take my leave now.”

Elenath turned her gaze back Legolas who said, “My love, your beauty shines bright.” He pulled her toward himself gently and held her close for a brief moment, realizing by the rapid beating of her heart and the slight tremble of her breath that she was still afraid. How could she be afraid of him? He felt a painful tugging at his heart but backed away at once and let her go. “I am sorry.”

“Mirkwood used to be overrun with evil things. Orcs - hideous creatures. They prowled about the wood seeking to kill, steal, and destroy. You died fighting them… and you took their leader with you. That is why the orcs hated you so much. They swore they would find and destroy you when you came back, so you were gifted with a new body in hope that they would not be able to recognize you. Unfortunately, shortly after you were born, they learned of your identity and tried to hunt you down. It was then that you were brought to the crossing point and left with a human woman who was supposed to tell you who you were, where your true home was, and how much your people loved you, when you were old enough to understand.”

Legolas nodded. “Though much reduced in numbers and scattered without their leader. The Elves who found you last night were patrolling for them…. It was lucky that Thorondil found you when he did. And as for your last question, Elenath, I do not know. The Gate opens for whomever it so wishes. I tried many times to pass through in search of you, but it was not to be. Thorondil tried as well.”

“Because he is your mother's brother and he cares about your safety. Besides, he has always been interested in such things,” chuckled the prince. “It is his way. He taught you everything you knew about how to fight, from the moment you could walk until…” his voice trailed away. “Until the moment you gave your life to save mine.”

He overtook her quickly and smiled. “Then it shall be so.” He took her hand and escorted her into more populated areas. Now and then an Elf would greet the couple with a nod or a smile. Many reached out to grasp Elenath's hands as they passed, speaking brief words that she did not understand. Some even kissed her hands, her cheeks, or even her forehead.

Legolas looked thoughtful for a moment. “It is not entirely true, what you said about there being no Elves where you come from. There was one sent after you through the Gate. I would be curious to know what befell him - if he ever found you or was able to help you in any way. He was a half-elf.”

“There is evil there. Things that I could never begin to describe to you.” She thought of nuclear weapons, domestic violence, and the cruelty of men hungry for power. “If I had known how wonderful this world would be I would have…”

Nodding, she replied, “There were two.” And she told him about Kara, her best friend. “She has such a kind heart, always willing to help. She has this guitar,” Elenath laughed, “and we used to stay up all night long writing songs. She wrote the music and I sang the words. She was always there for me when I needed her. Always. I cannot believe I left her behind… I guess my mind was just clouded by the grief of losing my grandmother… and the desire to see if this place really existed.”

Elenath smiled and said, “He is probably really mad at me right now, running off like I did.” Then suddenly her smile faded. “David would have loved it here. I would not be in the least surprised if you told me he were an Elf. It was always as if he had come from some other place, or some other time.”

“Well,” she tried to explain, “For example, he pledged his sword and his life to protect me a few months ago. Just out of the blue, he got all serious and knelt in front of me right in the middle of a crowded park and said, `I will follow you anywhere to protect you.'”

“It just isn't done in that other world. For one thing, most people do not carry swords. For another… nobody cares about anyone else like that! It is a very selfish world.” She paused. “When I asked him later what he meant by his promise, he said, `I meant just what I said.' When I asked him why, he could only shrug and tell me he knew… somehow he knew that I was different and special and very important. He said he would not be surprised to find out,” she laughed at the irony of it, “that I was a fairy princess of some sort.”

At that moment, a merry band of Elves approached, singing and dancing along the path. They stopped before the Royal couple and bowed. “Prince Legolas and Princess Elenath, Tula vasa ar yulna en emereth! Come, eat and drink of the feast. There will be much merriment this night to welcome home the one who was lost and is now found!”

Elenath knew what this meant. Her father had also returned and she was in for yet another meeting with someone who loved her and whom she did not remember. She wasn't sure how much more she could take and grew very quiet as they walked toward the woodland palace.

“Patience comes easily when you remember that we have an eternity to work out the puzzles of life,” he said. “For twenty-five years you have believed that you are a mortal human. That belief weighs heavily on you. Hear me Elenath! You are not a mortal!”

The firm tone of his voice startled her a little bit but it seemed to do the trick. The truth of his words began to sink in. What was the rush? Why hurry? She had forever to remember; forever to live; forever to love, forever to recall her father and mother. Realizing this, she stopped on the path and laughed.

The entire party stopped and looked back, but the prince waved them on. “Tell my father that we respectfully send our love and will join him…” he glanced at his wife who looked about as if she had been given new eyes. “We will join him when the time is right,” he said at last.

The sound of the party faded down the path as Elenath turned to Legolas and smiled. “I am sorry. You must think that I am a very strange Elf indeed. Laughing at nothing and-” she spun around a couple of times- “dancing when there is no music.”

As they walked, she began to sing about magical gates, enchanted forests and beautiful Elven princes named Legolas. The Prince walked alongside her, his heart filling anew with awe and wonder at the world around him and especially at the Lady beside him.

Elenath and Legolas entered the Great Hall of King Thranduil hand-in-hand and smiling, and all around Elenath heard the lilting tongue of the Elves. She wished that she could understand what they were saying because it seemed that all eyes were on her. She was feeling much more confident than she had that morning and met their admiring gazes with gracious smiles and even reached out to a few that she recognized from her long walk with Legolas.

They had almost reached the throne of King Thranduil when Elenath met the eyes of a raven-haired Elf who stood smiling. As soon as their eyes met, a memory flashed through her mind; followed quickly by another and another until her mind reeled with them and she held tight to Legolas's hand to keep from losing her balance. He slipped an arm around her waist to help steady her as happy tears came to her eyes.

She did not answer him but suddenly broke loose from his embrace, launching herself at the raven-haired Elf who now stood with arms open wide. “Ada! (Dad!)” she cried as she lost herself in his embrace. “I remember you, and our moonlit walks through the wood and songs sung late at night and…” her voice trailed off. “It is good to see you again!”

Legolas watched, laughing with the rest of the Elves as the happy father and daughter embraced. It was only a matter of time now, he knew, until she would remember him as well. Llilwen appeared at his side smiling. “She wins all of our hearts anew. It is as if she never left us.”

The merriment went on for two days with such feasting, dancing, music, and tale-telling as she had never known or even dared dream of. The foods were unfamiliar but wonderful to taste; the wine potent and sweet. She had to be careful not to drink too much too fast. The elaborate dances intimidated her at first, but Legolas coaxed her gently until she joined him. At first she only muddled through, but soon enough her feet seemed to remember the steps and she spun faster and faster with the others until she fell dizzily into Legolas' arms. There she stayed while she listened to the heavenly Elven music, enjoying his closeness and sighing at his voice when he joined in the singing. She began to nod off during the tales, the rhythmic Elven tongue lulling her until she felt herself being lifted and she shook herself awake.

The next morning when she began to wake up she felt something soft and silky on her face and hands, under her fingertips and upon her bare shoulders. Opening her eyes, she gasped, then giggled. The whole chamber, including her bed and herself, had been covered in rose petals.

They got ready quickly, crushing some of the petals between their fingers and rubbing the fragrance in Elenath's hair and on her skin. Six perfect thornless roses had been left intact on the small bedside table and her mother wove them into a crown for her, setting them gently atop her head and choosing a silvery white gown. The effect was quite dramatic and Elenath had never felt so beautiful in her life.

Legolas's room was not far from her own, just down the hall and around a corner or two. She peeked shyly inside, wondering what she would sing and gasped, jumping back out of the doorway. “He is already awake!” she whispered to her mother.

Llilwen peeked around the corner and whispered, “No, he still rests, though his eyes are open. Most of our kind do not close their eyes to sleep. You will get used to this.” She began to walk away. “I will see you at breakfast!”

“Tualle,” he replied, “I will help you to remember.” With that he brushed her lips softly with his, expecting then to release her. But she looked at him with such trust in her eyes that he kissed her again with a slow and gentle passion that warmed her to her toes and brought back the shadow of a memory to her.

She only nodded in reply and let out a relieved breath when she saw David being escorted under heavy guard and Kara apparently asleep in the arms of one of the Elves. David looked about himself as if in complete awe of everything, unbelieving, and not a little afraid.

“Jesus…” was all she had time to pray before he moved like lightening and acquired one of the guard's swords. Why had she allowed herself to be left unarmed? He was coming fast and she reached back instinctively to the last place she saw a blade - at Legolas' waist - and drew it with a long hissing metallic sound. Not a moment too soon she swung it around to block the powerful blow that David had aimed at the Prince's head. Sparks flew as the two Elven blades met. A dozen archers surrounded them in an instant, arrows nocked and fixed on David. Seeing this, she shouted, “Drop your weapons!” and her eyes locked with those of her old friend.

His eyes were full of surprise and questions; full of confusion and then, suddenly, understanding. He stepped back and sent his blade clattering to the floor, lifting his hands in the air. She had never seen him speechless before and it was a little unnerving to see him that way now.

Elenath wasn't sure what to do. David stood before her, brown hair tousled, anger and concern in his blue eyes, every inch of his muscular frame tensed, though he stood in a posture that said “I surrender.” She wanted to hug him and yell at him for attacking Legolas all at once. Instead she turned to her husband and returned the intricately carved blade with many apologies. “Are you all right?”

She turned her attention back to David then who seemed to be recovering slowly from his speechlessness. “Summer?” he said and she could stand it no more. She ran to him and let herself be hugged and kissed by the young man who was, for the first time since she met him, having trouble keeping his emotions in check. She was not surprised to find that happy tears were falling from her own eyes as well.

“You could have been killed! Kidnapped! Raped or worse! You know better than to pull a stunt like this, Summer Templeton. I know you know better because I taught you myself!” He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her a couple of times. “Didn't I tell you I would follow you anywhere? Didn't I? Why didn't you call me?”

His tone softened a bit. “We were worried sick, Summer. We thought… Everyone thinks you're dead. And now look at you! You're wearing a dress! I was so shocked when I saw you I thought I must be dreaming. And I thought you were in some kind of trouble….”

“And what's up with Kara?” Elenath walked over to her slumbering friend and gasped at what she saw. The left side of Kara's face was black and blue, her arms bruised and battered. She had to look closely to be sure her friend was still breathing. She turned on the Elves who brought them in, fire in her eyes. “Who DID this to her?”

Legolas watched curiously as his wife made quite a ceremony of pouring the hot water, adding tealeaves, mixing, and turning the cup a certain way before handing it to him with a bow. She did the same for David who took it with a bow, and then for herself. They sat in silence drinking the bitter liquid for half an hour. Legolas could not help but notice that each movement and motion seemed to be meditated upon by the other two and he couldn't help but be lulled into the intricate simplicity of the ritual.

“Look,” he said, “I know this isn't very romantic and we aren't even alone. But… You know that saying, `You don't know what you've got till it's gone?' I've done a lot of thinking since you left. A lot of thinking about us.”

“I have to,” he said, “It's true I've always told you that I'm not the kind of guy to want to settle down with anyone. But you're different, Summer. Something about you just…. You need to be protected. And I would be honored if you would agree to let me protect you, as your husband.” He slid down onto the floor on one knee. “Summer Templeton, will you marry me?”

She laughed. “Even you can't hide how relieved you are, David. Sometimes I think that you take your self-imposed duty a little bit too seriously. You don't want to get married any more than I want to eat a big `ol bowl of lima beans.”

Elenath looked over at the Prince and smiled. “Yes, I am very, very happy. David, please meet my husband, Prince Legolas, heir to the throne of Mirkwood.” She smiled and motioned to the Elf who had only just recovered from the shock of watching someone propose to his wife.

David was mortified. His head dropped into his hands. “I tried to kill your husband. Then I proposed to you right in front of him. Summer, I am so sorry. Prince Legolas…“ He could do nothing but shake his head. “Please accept my apology.”

David looked over at Elenath for a long moment. He had never seen her look so beautiful, the roses matching the slight blush in her cheeks; her skin seeming to shimmer in the sunlight that streamed into the chamber. “Elenath…” he chuckled. “I wish that jerk who stood you up for the prom could see you now.”

“It was my honor,” replied David, “and my pleasure. In fact, I plan to continue looking after her, and if you ever do anything to hurt her - Your Highness - so help me, I'll kill you.” With that he bowed and walked away, smiling as the Prince's laughter echoed down the corridor. They understood each other very well, it seemed.

Kara was out of bed dressed in an Elven gown when Elenath arrived at her chamber. The swelling in her face had gone down considerably and the bruises were barely visible. In her three years of nursing at the local hospital, Elenath had never seen anything like it.

“Yes, Kyle. The jerk. I can't believe it. He was so nice before we got married… Then on the honeymoon cruise he started getting weird. Our first night back home I was so tired and I didn't want to… and he did… and he beat the crap out of me.” She bravely choked back a sob. “But I held my own. I'm still alive anyway.”

“I ran out of the house and got in the car - Thank God we only have one - and came right over to your Grandma's house. I was pretty sure you'd be there and not at your apartment since she's been so sick.” Kara's tears were really flowing now. “I… I'm sorry to hear that she died,” she said and broke down sobbing.

“I think I did there for a while. How else could I have left the way that I did?” sniffled Elenath. “But then I found myself here… and… it's so wonderful. Please tell me you'll stay here forever with me. Kyle can't find you here and David has already agreed to stay.”

He smiled a little sadly, holding a sheathed sword in his hand. “The realm of Northern Mirkwood is indeed a wonderful and beautiful place, and you are safe here. However, beyond the borders, there are many dangers and much evil. We never leave Thranduil's kingdom unarmed. Indeed it is wise to carry a weapon any time you leave the palace.”

“He was wise to do so. There are orcs and there are other creatures who will kill anything they can get their hands on. Here.” He handed her the weapon in his hand. “You proved this morning that you have at least a basic knowledge of sword technique, even without remembering all of the years that you trained with me. Keep it at your side at all times.”

“The place of your birth. Prince Legolas sent our fastest riders out this morning. They should be back in four weeks' time if they are not attacked or held up. And if your Grandfather Lord Elrond does not insist they stay for a time. He is renowned for his hospitality. One day soon, we shall take you to visit him.”

Kara played a bar or two of lively Mexican music, stopping to fine-tune the strings. The guitar had a bit of an other-worldly resonance to it but the intonation and quality of sound were perfect. “Yes you will. Ever since I taught you Flamenco, you have said you wanted to dance it for your husband one day. Well, today is the day!”

“Sure you can.” She set the guitar aside and got up to assess the situation. “The skirt is plenty full enough. Look.” She took the silver-flecked overskirt and held it out to demonstrate. “All you need is…” She gently removed the roses and took the hair tie out of her own hair, using it to put Elenath's hair in a loose bun, revealing the smooth curves of her neck and shoulders. The Elves looked on, intrigued. “And maybe…” Kara stepped back for a moment and looked. “Just a little…” Reaching forward with a sly grin, she slid the loose straps of Elenath's dress just barely off her shoulders.

The music started and she stepped forward toward the Prince, immediately losing herself in the rhythm. The music seemed to move her. The sweep of her skirt, punctuated clapping of her hands, and flirtatious glances into Legolas' eyes as she danced around him combined to awe both the Elves and Kara who had never seen her friend dance like this.

As Legolas stood watching her, he had to fight for control of himself. This was a dangerous dance - a dance full of passion. No wonder she had saved it for her husband and no one else. Elenath had not even touched him. Not even once. Yet his skin felt as if it were on fire and he longed to take her in his arms. He was at once relieved and disappointed when the music ended and she stopped in a symphony of cheers and shouts for more from the Elves.

Scarcely a week had passed since the celebration of Elenath's return to Mirkwood. A week spent in learning about the new world around her, taking moonlit walks with her mother and father, and starlit walks with Prince Legolas. She began to learn the Elven arts of war and to teach Thorondil a few things about Jui Juitsu. And she watched the Prince; indeed she could not take her eyes off of him. It did not matter if he was in council with his father and his advisors, singing merry songs with his friends, helping with everyday Palace tasks, taking his own lessons with Thorondil, or simply resting beneath a tree. He was exquisite… beautiful in spirit and in body. Often she would wake in the middle of the night to hear him singing to her, though he always remained out of sight. He sang of the love they had shared, the places they had been, the sweet passionate secrets they had learned in one another's arms. Though her mind remembered none of it, she knew that her spirit must. For whenever he came near, her heart warmed. When he was away, she longed for him and especially for his sweet kisses, which he gave in plenty whenever they found a moment by themselves.

“My Beloved,” he called her, “My love, my beautiful princess, my life…” The passion in his eyes was unmistakable, yet each night he left her at the door to her room with a gentle kiss and the same request, “Seek me out when you wake, my love. I shall count the moments until I see you again.”

A mere week it had been since she first saw him, yet she could not imagine her life without him. Her prince, her beloved, her life. She laughed as she walked through the wood that morning thinking of the looks on the King's advisors' faces yesterday when Legolas left them mid-sentence to present her with a particularly lovely wildflower. He had whispered something outrageous in her ear before taking his leave and she had blushed. What had he called her? Oh, yes. “Lothamin; My Flower.” He had whispered, “I could not have created one more perfect than you, Lothamin,” as he let his eyes roam over her body. She blushed again just thinking about it.

Her life in Mirkwood was like a wonderful dream. Only one thing ever troubled her and that was her confusion regarding her faith. It was this confusion that had woken her this morning and driven her out of the safe haven of Thranduil's kingdom. She was beginning to come to terms with the fact that she was not human, not a descendent of Adam and Eve. Who then was she? What was her place in God's Kingdom? Did Jesus die for the Elves too, or were Elves beyond the need for such a sacrifice? The only thing she knew for sure in her heart was that God created everything and that He still reigned over all. She clung to that knowledge and often quoted the Psalmist who said, “Let everything that has breath praise the Lord.”

Her song was disrupted by the sound of hoof beats in the wood that grew rapidly nearer. She looked around and realized how far from home she was, but before she had time to even think about hiding, three Elven riders galloped by, followed by a fourth rider - a Man - who somehow managed to reach down and take hold of her as he raced past, hauling her up and slinging her over his saddle. Dirt kicked up by the horse's hoofs smacked her in the face as the trees streaked by.

She regarded him with a mixture of contempt and curiosity. His shoulder-length brown hair was a mess, one of his eyes already beginning to blacken from her strike. Unshaven and a little ragged, he appeared to be somewhere between the ages of twenty-five and thirty-five. It was hard to tell. He stood there with his hands up, staring at her.

“We were being pursued by a band of orcs,” he said, “And were almost to the safety of your realm when I saw this vision of beauty standing in the wood.” He turned his attention to Elenath. “You should not wonder outside the borders of Northern Mirkwood alone or unarmed, My Lady. I couldn't just leave you there-“

“To bring you this.” He held out a sword sheathed in a scabbard so ornate that she knew it must be worth more than her grandmother's whole house. Bedecked with stunning metalwork and precious stones, it glinted in the sun and seemed to whisper her name. It was almost like seeing a long lost friend. She reached out her hands to take it, but Legolas stopped her.

Estel sighed. “The orcs have learned of her return and have chosen a new leader. A great band of them pursued us to the edge of your kingdom. They cried her name in rage when they saw us, Legolas. They have only one thing on their mind, and that is revenge.”

Elenath's body seemed to go numb with shock as Elves rushed around her, arming themselves for battle. Legolas left her side at once in search of his father, then returned moments later wearing armor and leading a horse. “Do not let yourself be seen, My Love,” he said, embracing her. “I must fly.”

The wait was the most torturous thing that Elenath had ever experienced. She huddled next to Kara with a small group of female Elves who had stayed behind and they could hear the sounds of vicious battle not far off. She slept fitfully, waking at the faintest noises and crying out to God for the safety of her friends.

When she saw her father being stretched out on the floor she began to weep. For though the Elves did their best to work their magic, he had lost too much blood. She could tell by the pallor of his skin. She took his hands and kissed them. “Ada (Dad), ada, I love you. Please don't leave me.” He was quickly slipping away and she cried, “Don't we have a way to do a blood transfusion?” The Elves looked blankly at her and she knew there was nothing to be done.

An eerie silence fell when the King was brought in, arrows piercing his flesh in more than one place. Her training as a nurse told her at first glance that he might be saved if he did not go into shock. The blood loss was much less than in her father. “Ada,” she whispered, “I love you. I must help the King.”

The Elves tended Thranduil gently and in complete silence as Legolas leaned near to him, concern etched in his face. He himself had a nasty gash on his forehead but seemed to take no notice of it as he listened to his father's final words, which were inaudible to everyone else. Now and then a cough wracked the King's body and he grew weaker and weaker even as Elenath bound what wounds she could. He was fading fast.

Rage and denial and hope welled up in Elenath's heart all at once. “Not if I can help it!” she said. “Kara! David! Help!” She practically pushed Legolas out of the way to kneel there, her ear close to the King's nose and mouth, her fingers expertly finding the pulse point in his neck. Her friends came running as she announced in her calm emergency room voice, “He has no pulse, no respiration. Kara see to those wounds. Don't let them bleed. David, help me count. Now!”

The Elves were utterly astounded and immediately began to care for him again as Elenath quietly made her way back to her father, away from the throng. Llilwen cradled his head in her lap, tears falling softly down her lovely face. She looked up at her daughter and said, “He has gone to Mandos. I am sorry.”

Legolas knelt next to his father King Thranduil who, a few moments ago, had been dead. No breath had Thranduil taken; his heart had ceased in its rhythm. And, aside from the grief at loosing his father, Legolas had only had one thought during those few minutes when Elenath had seemingly gone mad:

But Elenath had not gone mad. She had come with some kind of powerful magic that caused Thranduil's heart to beat again; caused him to draw breath anew. Only the Valar was capable of such miracles, yet she had done it, seemingly at the sacrifice of her own father.

But he could not run to her. His father was speaking to him. With the Elves' ministrations, color had returned to the King's face though he still lay helpless on the floor, going on and on about seeing the Valar. “He says there is one whose ways are strange but who can stop an advancing army with a song. One who can raise the dead. One who can push back the darkness that has come to our Kingdom.”

The Princess' sobs had died away after only a few short moments, and when Legolas looked up again after a time, she had calmed herself and walked among the wounded, healing with the herbs given to her by the other Elves. It seemed that she brought comfort with a glance; eased pain with a touch.

He longed for that touch now as his head throbbed painfully. He sat back on the floor as his father was taken away to a comfortable bed elsewhere in the Palace. He closed his eyes for a brief moment to try and stop the world spinning around him and when he opened them, Elenath was there, kneeling next to him. She said nothing but her eyes spoke volumes. At first, they were so full of pain and regret that Legolas feared for her very life. Then after a moment, some of that pain began to melt away into the love that she had for him; love and also anger. The two seemed to war within her for a moment until her love for him overflowed in the form of tears.

He dared not disobey after all she'd been through and he did as she asked. The poultice burned like fire when she applied it to the wound on his forehead and he let out a slow, hissing breath. The sensation did not last but a few seconds and was followed with the relief of cool water on his face and the gentle patting of dry cloth on his skin. All pain was banished from his body as she kissed his forehead.

She helped him to stand and then stood quietly in his arms as he embraced her, whispering words of comfort in her ears. “You did well, my love. Your father would be proud. He smiles down upon you even now, I know. One so young would usually panic at such a scene as this….”

She stepped back from him and met his gaze. “Legolas, I have seen far worse than this. Daily, on the other side of the Gate, people would bring their sick and wounded to me. It was my job to care for them. Only there, I had medicines, equipment to give people new blood if they needed it…. That would have saved my father.”

White light. Blinding white light that enveloped and blinded her. Elenath felt as if she were floating through space with no sense of direction. Then shapes began to appear as if a fog were lifting. Her eyes adjusted. She found herself on a horse, sword drawn, looking into the face of the ugliest creature she had ever seen. Legolas was behind her, fighting two of the beasts off with the skill of a master. Legolas. Her heart seemed to expand with love at the very thought of him. He must be kept safe. At any cost, the Prince must not die.

“Then why did he insist on handing her an object that has the ability to bring it all back at once? Not only does the sword carry two thousand years of her own memories. It carries thousands upon thousands of years more of the memories of other Elves who have wielded it in battle!”

Legolas sighed. He could not deny hearing the blade whisper his wife's name when Estel presented it to her the first time. “She is so young and vulnerable. You have not seen her as I have, exploring this world with the eyes of a child. Is it wrong for me to want her to enjoy that yet a while longer?”

Estel placed a comforting hand on the Prince's shoulder. “I have seen her, my friend, standing in the Wood like one newly born, too innocent to realize the importance of being armed and lacking the good sense to stay inside the borders of your father's kingdom. It is a dangerous time for children. Lord Elrond is wise to give her back the wisdom of her true lifetime.”

The Prince shook his head and walked away, toward Elenath's chamber. Estel followed, along with David and Kara. They watched as Legolas laid her gently on the bed and kissed her lips, whispering words in her ear that they could not hear.

The sword seemed to fight of its own accord in Elenath's hand, the motions strange to her. It was very unlike the Japanese style she was used to. More and more she began to feel a spectator in this battle, at once involved and detached, as if she were trapped in a very vivid nightmare.

The battle was fierce but she was skilled with the sword. The orcs had let out a horrendous scream when their leader fell beneath her blade. Hours upon hours they sought their revenge against her until the sight of blood no longer disturbed her and the pain of her thus-far superficial wounds no longer bothered her. She was weary… so weary. But the sight of Legolas fighting hard strengthened her.

She raced to Legolas' side. They would not touch him while she drew breath. Other Elves surrounded him, bravely beating back the hideous creatures until they were almost defeated, some already fleeing into the dark places of Middle Earth. It was then that she saw the arrow, drawn back and pointed at her Beloved. The one who would fire it stood not twenty feet away. Too far to slay him before he shot. Too near to hope for a miss. She spurred her horse forward as the orc let fly and took the arrow through her heart as the enemy retreated.

All was white again. White that enveloped and blinded her. White that made her tears fall harder. How could she go on without him? Her heart had been pierced for the love of him and only the Valar knew when or if they would see each other next.

The Prince of Mirkwood stood helplessly by as his unconscious wife shrieked in pain, tears forming in the corners of her eyes and running in streams down her face. Kara and David paled and reached out to her. “What is it?” asked Kara. “What's happening?”

Legolas bent over her bed and gathered her up in his arms, trying to kiss her tears gently away. He did not like this feeling of powerlessness. What good was being a prince at a time like this? He could not command her to wake up. He could not command the memories to stop. He was at the mercy of a higher power. “I am here,” he said softly, his own tears mingling with hers. “Elenath, if you will only just come back to me, I am here.”

“Elenath…” a gentle whispering voice pierced the whiteness. “Come to me, my daughter. I wait for you with open arms…” Continuing to weep and wishing only to return to Legolas, she did not move. “Elenath…” the voice comforted her, caressed her every sense. “Do not be frightened…”

She heard a sound like a deep breath being exhaled, felt a warm breeze caress her face. Momentarily, the whiteness lifted and she found herself on a path - A path made of pure gold that led to a gated city of jasper and gold inlaid with every kind of precious stone. Feeling a presence behind her, she turned slowly and gazed into a pair of brown eyes that seemed to look into the depths of her soul.

She chanced a glance upward and found him to be smiling at her, hands extended to help her up off the path. “I have waited not nearly so long, My Lord, but it seems so.” Elenath rose to her knees and took the hands in her own, one at a time, and turned them palms-up. Her tears fell upon the scars she saw there. “Who am I, Lord, that you stand here waiting for my arrival? I am but your servant.”

“There is much yet to be revealed to you, child. But you must never think that you are any less precious to me because of those pointed ears.” He touched them. “I was there when my Father created you, Elenath. I know the plans that He has for you - plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Your purpose in that world has not yet been fulfilled.”

“He is weak with worry for you.” He smiled. “I was there also when my Father created Legolas the Elf. The Prince of Mirkwood was made for you, and you for him. You are a perfect match. Does your heart not feel completed in his presence?”

Legolas' touch felt like fire against her bare arms, her skin had grown so cold. She gasped for air and shivered violently beneath the heaps of blankets that had been piled on top of her. The light gown she was wearing had become tangled about her legs and she could hardly move at all. Her teeth chattered, though she knew it must still be summer by the green leaves dancing in the morning light outside her chamber.

Legolas kissed her cheek. “Kara said that your body temperature dropped far too low… that your… “ his brow creased as if trying to remember the word, “metabolism dropped to almost nothing. I do not know what this means. But she said that because of this you would feel cold when you woke up.”

Legolas had remembered too, hoping that doing so would help her somehow. He remembered the way she looked at him as she said goodbye, the deep sorrow he felt at losing her. Mostly he remembered the sight of her blood. Blood on his hands. Blood shed to save his life. “Elenath… Lle naa belegohtar. Lle ume quell. You are a mighty warrior. You did well.”

Legolas propped himself up, gently running a hand through Elenath's beautiful hair. “Tell my father that Elenath has only just come back to us and I will not leave her side. She is weary and needs to rest - and I with her. Give my apologies to Lord Elrond.”

“Legolas,” she spoke softly when they were alone again. “Though I would delight to stay here with you forever… I think that I would like to see my grandfather. He has traveled a long way, and I have many questions about the sword that he sent.”

He pulled the covers back for her. “She mourns your father, but has been holding to the hope that you will recover. She rode with our messengers to Rivendell. Said she needed to flee from this place for a time. Now, I will go to my father. This is twice since his return that I have refused his summons. I fear you have been a bad influence on me and I have become rebellious.” His smile warmed her heart.

The King laughed and turned to his honored guest. Lord Elrond sat in a throne next to the King's. He was tall and regal with long brown hair and blue eyes that radiated a strange combination of power and kindness. An Elven crown of woven silver rested upon his head.

The king's laugh turned to a chuckle. “It seems that my son has become so entranced by your granddaughter's beauty that he rebels even against his own father! This is the second time since my return from your kingdom that he has refused my summons.”

"You mean OUR misgivings, Elrond," said the King. "If you'll recall, I was just as hard on your lovely granddaughter as you were on my son. Yet their marriage has brought about many good things, and I have come to love Elenath as my own daughter. She is the most beloved Princess that Mirkwood has ever known."

Legolas paused in the doorway of the Great Hall. Having heard his father's comments and those of Lord Elrond, he could not help but recall the events that preceded his marriage to Elenath. Rivendell and Mirkwood had nearly gone to war as he courted her, his heart unwilling to conform to his arranged marriage with another young maiden in Rivendell who no more wanted to marry him than an orc. He stepped into the Great Hall with a bow and a flourish before smiling at Lord Elrond. "As much as I would enjoy living in your beautiful city, my lord, I am the only child of my father and must remain here in Mirkwood with my lovely wife."

Legolas paused before answering, surprised at the anger that leapt up in his heart. He wanted to say, "Fine before you sent that blasted sword," but held his tongue. "She is weak and needs her rest, but she wishes to see you first, My Lord."

“With all due respect, My Lord,” returned the Prince, “You were not here to see her suffer during the past three days. She cried out in pain in her sleep. Her skin grew icy cold. She lay as one dead, and I could do nothing for her. Absolutely nothing. If you were not my wife's grandfather and a good friend of my father, I would not hesitate to tell you in no uncertain terms what you can do with that sword.”

Elrond sighed. “If I had known that she would experience her first battle, lose her father, and save King Thranduil's life all in one day, I would not have sent it when I did. I made a mistake.” He paused and regarded the Prince with an apologetic look. “Legolas, I am sorry. Will you forgive me?” He held his hand out.

The Prince was taken aback. He had expected a much tougher resistance from Elrond. But the old Elf seemed sincere. Legolas sighed. Of course Elrond loved his granddaughter and would never knowingly do anything to harm her. The younger Elf reached out slowly and grasped the hand that was offered for a brief moment. “Yes, of course I'll forgive you Lord Elrond. I am sorry for my harsh words.”

“Neither can I… but then I cannot deny it either. He kissed me on my forehead. My tears fell upon the scars in his hands. He held me close and told me he had been waiting since the beginning of time to greet me there. I… I didn't want to come back.”

“Oh, Elenath… Legolas would never have understood. He was distraught the entire time you were out. Last night, I poked my head in to see if he needed anything and he was bent over you, just weeping as if his heart was broken, saying something over and over in Elvish. I just left him alone. What else could I do?”

Legolas grew restless as he exchanged pleasantries with his father and Lord Elrond. He idly ate grapes off of a huge platter of fruit as he listened to their talk of days gone by. He wished that he had stayed with Elenath instead of coming here. Finally, he summoned David and asked him if he would see that his Beloved had everything she needed.

Elenath's eyes grew wide. “Pastor Mike…. He said, `Don't forget your Bible' and it seemed odd to me at the time. I wonder…” She pointed to the small trunk at the foot of her bed. “My Bible is in that trunk,” she said, a little ashamed that she hadn't cracked it open even once since her arrival in this place. Kara rummaged for a moment and then handed it to her.

“It's not a matter of being smart,” she answered. “It was a matter of a certain Pastor who reminded me to bring it. She took the book gently by its spine and dangled it in the air, shaking it a few times and watching as objects began to fall out of it: three bookmarks, assorted church bulletins, a photo of her grandmother, and one envelope with the name “Elenath” scribbled on it. The handwriting was that of Pastor Mike. “I knew it!” she exclaimed.

“By marriage and birth, apparently,” added Elenath as she sat down and carefully tore into the thick envelope. Her friends watched over her shoulders as she pulled the letter out and unfolded its many pages. Elenath planned to read it slowly and glean all of the knowledge she could from it. Her eyes hungrily found the first line of ink and her heart fell. “Oh no!”

The three made their way slowly toward the Great Hall. Every 20 feet or so, Elenath stopped to rest, leaning her head against a column and murmuring a prayer for strength. She had never been so tired. Finally when they were about halfway there, she sank to the floor, rested her head in her hands, and tried not to cry.

David found the Prince sitting in a throne to the right of his father, tossing grapes into a goblet on the floor a few feet away. Each one landed with a muted splash that sent droplets of wine into the air. David could tell Legolas did not want to be there and chuckled at the contrast between the two noble kings and the melancholy prince.

The Elf on the throne to the left of King Thranduil would have terrified Elenath if she had not seen something rather familiar in his eyes. He had the air of one who was used to commanding and being obeyed; one who she would not want to anger. She felt as if she should fall on the floor before him, but settled for a small curtsy next to her husband instead.

Lord Elrond was taken aback by the beauty of the creature before him. Was this really Elenath? It must be. He could see a slight resemblance about the eyes and mouth, but she was much more fragile-looking than she had been in her previous form. About three inches shorter and with a much more delicate frame, she gazed at him with eyes the color of spring leaves flecked with amber. Eyes that regarded him with curiosity and reverence. She received his embrace graciously, even kissing him lightly on the cheek as he drew away.

They looked blankly at her and she sighed. “You don't understand, do you?” She felt very alone at that moment, wishing that Kara and David were with her to help explain. “I have a book in my chambers that contains the history of the world from which I came and tells a story so amazing that few believe it, though many seek after its Truth. Many who were inspired by God himself wrote it. The Sword speaks to me mostly using the words of this book.”

“It is a long tale,” she replied slowly, “About God who created the world and everything in it, but the most precious of these creations were Man and Woman. He loved them very much and they were like His children until they rebelled and disobeyed Him, causing all kinds of terrible trouble and trials for themselves. Worst of all, they so distanced themselves from God that they no longer remembered His awesome love or desired to be with Him. It is hard to explain fully in a short time, but suffice it to say that God sent His own Son, Jesus, to make things right again. Jesus sacrificed Himself, taking all of the punishment that should have been given to Man and Woman so that they could have a relationship with God again. He died a terrible death at the hands of those He had come to help.”

She took a deep breath. “They made a cross of wood and….” She shook her head. She had told this story so many times before, but now that she had seen Him, touched the scars in His hands, and heard His voice full of love for her, it seemed so much more real; so much more terrible. She whispered, “They drove nails through His hands and feet into the cross and put a crown of thorns upon His head. They raised the cross up and let Him hang there until He died, mocking Him and spitting at Him even as he said, `Father forgive them for they know not what they do.'” Elenath set the orange she had been peeling aside and wiped her tears away without apology.

She nodded. “Jesus conquered death. He rose from the dead three days later and appeared to those who had followed Him and who had loved Him. Then He returned to the Heavenly Realms to sit at the right hand of His Father where He lives still, to this day. I saw Him there after I remembered my own death. He greeted me as His child and I touched the scars in His hands. He is just as alive as you and I, and He sees and hears everything that happens everywhere.”

Her audience was quiet, mulling this over for a long moment before Elrond finally spoke. “The Sword, which is called Calmacil, was given to the Elves at the beginning of time by the Valar himself. Its bearer was to be a guardian and protector of our people, taking insight and direction from the blade. It has, however, remained mostly silent for many thousands of years, speaking only the name of its bearer for all to hear. No one knows why.”

“The meaning is unclear to me as well,” said Elenath. “I am confused about many things right now, My Lords. Much has changed in my life in a very short time and I am still trying to make sense of it all.” She leaned on one arm and closed her eyes for a moment, the weariness she had felt in the corridor welling up within her anew. “Legolas, if you are able to help me later, I have a letter from Mike that will, I hope, explain things to me. But it is written in the alphabet and language of the Elves.”

Legolas had left his throne and now sat at his father's feet next to Elenath. He reached for the orange and put it gently into her hand. “Of course I will help. Now eat, Melamin (My Love). You have not had sustenance for three days except for the water Kara somehow managed to give you.”

Elenath almost fell fast asleep face-first into her food twice during the meal, though she tried valiantly to pay attention to the talk of her Grandfather and King Thranduil and eat as much as was polite. Elrond watched her with concern in his eyes until finally he said, “Ed iear ar elenea (By the sea and stars), Legolas! She is exhausted! Take her to bed and go there yourself. You are looking quite weary as well.”

“Diola lle, Heruamin (Thank you My Lord),” replied Legolas, standing up and gently lifting Elenath into his arms. He realized just how tired she was when she did not protest but lay her head against his shoulder and promptly fell asleep.

A maidservant waited in her room and removed Elenath's gown as the Prince gazed out into the hazy afternoon. Leaving the Princess wearing only a silken chemise, she nodded to Legolas and left the room. “The Princess should be comfortable now.”

Legolas waited for the maidservant to leave and then sat on Elenath's bed. He arranged the blankets snugly around her, remembering how cold she had been just hours earlier, and kissed her whispering “Quel kaima, Ai Lirimaer (sleep well, Little Lovely One)” before starting toward the door and his own room.

She unabashedly watched as he removed his boots and outer clothing and folded it neatly on her chair. He was beautiful - all smooth creamy skin and muscle. “I fear that I haven't any choice in that matter, My Love. You saw me almost fall asleep in my lunch.”

He slid under the covers with her and wrapped her in his arms. “So be it. I shall rest here next to you, Elenath, and keep you safe from all harm.” He smiled as she nuzzled closer to him and closed her eyes, sleep claiming her almost at once.

Elenath woke up the next morning to a pair of blue eyes staring intently into hers. She had woken up in the dead of night to find Legolas looking at her in the same way, and now warmth filled her as she remembered the sweet kisses, warm caresses, and the passionate love they had shared in the moonlit room.

They could hear someone in Elenath's bathing chamber drawing a bath for them. Legolas chuckled. “We've been seen,” he said. “News will be all over the kingdom that Mirkwood truly has a princess again by the time we arrive for breakfast.”

Kara did not come in to help her that morning. Neither were any maidservants sent. In fact, it seemed as though everyone purposefully avoided Elenath's chambers after the one who drew their bath had retreated in delighted silence. That was fine with the royal couple as they helped each other get ready for the day. They took their time with lingering touches and not a few kisses. Legolas sighed as she brushed and braided his hair, still wet from the bath. Then he turned and did the same for her.

He shook his head. “I was just remembering the argument you had with him when I left Rivendell to return to Mirkwood. He swore you would never see me again and you told him he would have to shackle and chain you to make you stay. When you were not there to bid me farewell the next morning, I came in search of you, much to the chagrin of Lord Elrond. I found you chained by your wrist to one of the pillars in your room, weeping bitterly. Your father was with me and he was furious.”

“My father was summoned from Mirkwood and a great council was held between the high-ranking Elves of both kingdoms. I tell you, Elenath, war almost broke out. Rivendell did not want to let you go, and Mirkwood could not let the only heir to their throne walk away, even though I offered to give up my crown and my throne for you. The conclusion was reached that nothing could be done. I would return to Mirkwood and you would remain at Rivendell. It was to be for the good of both of our kingdoms.”

“You did, Melamin (My Love). You fell ill that very day from the grief of knowing we could never be together. `Why must I stay here?' you asked them, `I will never sit on the throne of Rivendell. There are many in line before me for that honor.' They thought that you would recover, but you grew weaker and weaker until Elrond finally gave in. Since your birth, you have always been his light and his joy, Elenath. He could not bear to see you suffer so. He came to you on his knees begging for your forgiveness and giving you permission to come to me if that was what you wished.”

“I know, it is hard to believe. But, I saw it with my own eyes. You recovered quickly and we were wed at Rivendell not a month later. Even that was an ordeal. We had the ceremony at Rivendell but you did not truly become my wife until we arrived at Mirkwood nearly a month later. That was the deal that was struck at yet another council.”

“Good,” he replied. “The orcs have retreated for now, but it is almost certain that they will return.” He turned to a small box on the table behind him and pulled out two crowns, similar in style to the one of woven silver worn by Lord Elrond. One was larger and thicker than the other and he handed it to Legolas. The more delicate one he gave to Elenath. “The Elves in the Great Hall expect to see their Prince and Princess crowned properly this morning, it seems.”

And indeed they did expect it. When Legolas and Elenath entered the Great Hall, they were greeted by the cheers and well-wishes of their subjects who threw flower petals over them and danced for joy. “Long live the Prince!” they shouted, “Long live Princess Elenath!”

Elenath laughed. “First of all, don't be curtsying me, and second of all, I'm sorry. Apparently the ceremony took place over a thousand years ago at a place called Rivendell. Now I'll never get my revenge for that horrible dress you made me wear at your wedding!”

The merriment went on all day, and it was early evening before Legolas finally took Elenath back to his chambers where all of her belongings had been placed. The Bible lay in the middle of their bed with the letter from Pastor Mike next to it. David had left a note there as well. It read: “Thought you might want to read this, El. Also wanted to let you know that I've already threatened Legolas' life if he ever hurts you. Ha ha. Seriously, he is one lucky Elf and now I have two of you to look after. Just don't make it three for a while yet, okay? I am only one man, after all. Love, David.”