Arandil, Princess of Mirkwood: 4. Some Enchanted Evening

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4. Some Enchanted Evening

I lay beneath the stars in one of the secluded gardens of Rivendell, a thin blanket protecting my bare skin from the cool late October breeze. The soft grass tickled my back as I rolled over to face my companion. My breathing was still heavy and my heart was still racing, and I could tell by one look at him that he was also still feeling the after effects of what we had just done. He reached up to brush a stray lock of hair from my face. I managed to tear my eyes from his perfectly chiseled bare chest and meet his glance.

"You are so beautiful, out here in the starlight."

"Oh, stop." I giggled. "You're just saying that…"

"No, I speak the truth. You are more beautiful than any elf or woman I have ever met."

I blushed and dropped my eyes from his gaze. "Thank you," I answered demurely.

"Whatever happens from here on will pale in comparison to this night I have spent with you. You are absolutely amazing." He propped himself up on one elbow so he could look down at me and gently cupped my face with his long hand. "I shall take you back to Mirkwood and declare my love for you openly to my father. I will make you my wife. You will be Princess of Mirkwood."

"Oh, Legolas," I whispered as I reached up to run my hands through his soft hair. "I can't believe this. It is a dream come true!"

"I love you, Arandil. You are my everything." Chills!

"I love you too, Legolas." I murmered.

"What did you just say?" he asked, his voice taking on an angry, demanding edge.

"I said, I love you." I blinked a few times to clear the haze away from my eyes. What was happening? It had been going so perfectly!

"What did you just call me?" Why did he suddenly sound so much like Justin? And why was everything so fuzzy looking?

The stars began to dim and the trees started to fade. In their place appeared columns and a ceiling. Instead of Legolas looking adoringly into my eyes, I found myself locked in the angry stare of my husband.

"Dammit, Justin." I swore as I pushed him away from looming on top of me. "I was having the best dream."

"Keh." He sat up in bed and folded his arms across his chest. "I'll bet."

"Oh, come on," I pleaded as I sat up next to him, "don't be angry. It's not like it was real. It's not like anything would ever happen."

"That's true," he conceded. "He would never look at you like that."

Now that stung. "And why not?" I stood up and faced him. "What? Do you think I'm not pretty enough for him?"

"That's not what I said." Justin answered in an even tone.

"Oh, you didn't have to say it. That's what you meant. He would never think I was pretty. I get it Justin." I felt tears well up in my eyes and bit my lip to keep them from falling.

"That is not true. Actually, if you have to know, he told me before that you were pretty." The tears that had been threatening to fall vanished and my insides began to dance. Before I could get too happy though, Justin held up his hand. "But there's something different about him. I don't know. There's just something off about him."

"Oh, don't even start with the whole gay thing…"

Justin shook his head disgustedly. "That's not what I'm talking about, and you know it. I mean, he looks like us, but he's not like us. I can't put my finger on it."

I rolled my eyes. "He's an elf, Einstein. Of course he's not like us."

Suddenly Justin jumped up from the bed and began to pace the room, ranting as he went. "This is all so retarded. We shouldn't be here! Come on! Elves are not real. These people are not normal!"

"You didn't seem to mind before when the two of you were all buddy-buddy shooting Gimli's hood off."

Justin stopped and turned to me. "Don't get me wrong, he's a cool guy. He's just… I just… we should. Not. Be. Here."

I sighed and grabbed Justin's arm, pulling him back to the bed. I sat down and waited for him to follow my lead. When it was apparent he was not going to, I stood back up.

"Don't you believe in fate?"

"No." He said flatly.

I rolled my eyes again. Typical Justin. "Well I do, and that's why I think we're here."

"That's bullshit." He leaned on the dresser with one arm and put the other hand on his hip. "We are here because you wanted to 'touch pretty elves'".

I took a deep breath and pleaded with my patience to not run off just yet. "Maybe. But my means of getting us here was in place long before I even knew what an elf was." I sat down again and indicated that Justin should do the same. This time he did sit down and I took his hands in mine. I was going to need a firm hold on him to keep him there while I told him of how we came to be in Rivendell.



The best thing to do was wait it out. The yelling would have to come to an end at some point. With it, the storming around, angry glares and occasional hand colliding with a wall would also cease. Sooner would be better than later, but I didn't think this tirade was going to be a short one.

Finally, after he had probably exhausted himself and most likely bruised the palm of his hand, Justin turned to me. "So let me get this straight," he began, holding his hands out in front of him as if they would help to ground him or calm him down. "you read an incantation in a fake language from a fiction book that you found in your grandparents attic, and now we're here."

"Yeah, that's pretty much the gist." Minus the hours of hard work I spent learning the language and deciphering the incantation, but bygones, right?

"So you knew you'd end up here." If anybody thinks an elvish stare is intense, you haven't met my husband when he's mad. He'd put a Noldo to shame.

"I didn't know…" I smiled at him, hoping he would calm down and appreciate the great opportunity laid ahead of us. Ha. Yeah right. "I suspected…" I think the correct word would have been 'hoped,' but that would probably have just added fuel to the fire.

"And you did it anyway?" I saw him clenching his teeth and knew how frustrated he must be. "Think, Carrie, then act."

"My name is not Carrie. It's Arandil."

"YOUR NAME IS NOT ARANDIL." I could seriously hate him when he bellowed like that. I think he realized that because he lowered his voice. "Look, I don't know what kind of little fantasy game you're playing here, but I would appreciate it if we could go home now."

"Fine." I snipped at him. "You can go wherever the hell you want. Me? I'm going to find Legolas. But don't you worry," I sneered at him. "even though he thinks I'm pretty, he could never look at me like that."

Exhibiting extraordinary maturity, I turned and huffed out of the room.


This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.

Story Information

Author: Arandil

Status: General

Completion: Work in Progress

Era: 3rd Age - Ring War

Genre: Humor

Rating: General

Last Updated: 01/19/14

Original Post: 11/24/04

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