whole land, leaving no shadow or cavern left untouched by the warm glow.
Though night had fallen several hours ago, the beautiful country appeared as
if the sun was rising over the horizon. However, it was not the sun that
shined so brightly but the moon. The pale orb in the sky bathed Imladris,
playing gleefully with the lanterns, as if they were in a battle of which
could light up the world brighter.
and light rose-coloured flowers sprinkled the delicate green grass; Legolas
Greenleaf stood and gazed at the beautiful man yards away. His long, brown
hair fell on his shoulders and around his finely chiseled face, and Legolas
could see his bright blue eyes twinkle with laughter. His name was Aragorn,
a man Legolas met many fortnights ago...
worry never ceased from his young, but rough-looking face, especially
concerning the One Ring and Gollum's claim over it. Whereas, he brought him
to Legolas' father in Mirkwood a year ago. Therefore, Legolas knew his face
immediately upon his arrival to Imladris, where his father, Thranduil, the
King of the Elves in Northern Mirkwood, said the last heir of Isildur would
be to assist a hobbit in bringing the great ring to Rivendell.
Rivendell and Elrond's daughter. Their love for each other was clear as the
diamonds in the Glittering Caves. Which caused a pang of jealousy deep in
Legolas' heart. He felt for Aragorn, more so than a close friend. However,
he knew Aragorn was off limits to him; he belonged to Arwen. And he wouldn't
even conceive of the idea to break them apart. With a forlorn sigh, Legolas
walked away gracefully from the merry couple. His light feet stepped softly
on the cool grass, making no noise as he left the garden and retired to his
room for the night.
the rhythmic patter of the waterfalls surrounding his bedchamber. Aragorn's
lovely face came to mind, keeping him from falling asleep; although, his
eyes closed involuntarily from exhaustion of a long day's journey. The smile
that caressed Aragorn's lips while he spoke with Arwen in the garden would
not leave Legolas' memory. He yearned to kiss those lips, but he knew that
would never happen. His heart ached for the man he could never have, causing
his pale face to crease into a frown.
flame in the lantern next to his bed and closing his eyes, drifting into a
pack, removing out a leather-bound journal. He took out his feathered pen
and dipped the tip into the ink.