Happy holidays, savepureness! -- Winter's Princess [LotR]
Title: Winter's Princess
Author: azalaisdep
Recipient: savepureness
Fandom: Lord of the Rings
Characters or Pairing: Legolas/Eowyn
Rating: G
Summary: An angsty moment in the Golden Hall.
Notes: Hope this double-drabble manages to combine the angst and the requested pairing with the theme of celebration, even if the romance is the barest hint... Grateful thanks to my beta, she knows who she is!
"Ferthu Legolas hal!" Strange music, my name among the rolling Rohirric on her tongue, as she moves from Theoden King to offer me the stirrup-cup; to celebrate his healing and to wish us speed.
I glimpsed her in the shadows behind the throne as we followed Mithrandir through the Golden Hall, cold pale silver birch hoping beyond hope for an end to winter; and her fragile mortal beauty stirred pity and more. How long has she kept vigil thus in darkness, powerless to strike at the worm coiled about the roots of this gnarled yet venerable oak?
Now she looks into my face steadily, eyes clear as a midwinter sky, and my heart is caught. Gravely I take the cup from her, and as I taste the dark wine my gaze does not leave hers.
And then she moves on: “Ferthu Aragorn hal!” I hear the sun's warmth breaking forth in her voice as she offers to him; and I know without looking what answer will be in his eyes, and I feel the icy pain of thwarted hope for this proud slender sapling of a mighty line, who must know frost once more before the coming of her Spring.
Author: azalaisdep
Recipient: savepureness
Fandom: Lord of the Rings
Characters or Pairing: Legolas/Eowyn
Rating: G
Summary: An angsty moment in the Golden Hall.
Notes: Hope this double-drabble manages to combine the angst and the requested pairing with the theme of celebration, even if the romance is the barest hint... Grateful thanks to my beta, she knows who she is!
"Ferthu Legolas hal!" Strange music, my name among the rolling Rohirric on her tongue, as she moves from Theoden King to offer me the stirrup-cup; to celebrate his healing and to wish us speed.
I glimpsed her in the shadows behind the throne as we followed Mithrandir through the Golden Hall, cold pale silver birch hoping beyond hope for an end to winter; and her fragile mortal beauty stirred pity and more. How long has she kept vigil thus in darkness, powerless to strike at the worm coiled about the roots of this gnarled yet venerable oak?
Now she looks into my face steadily, eyes clear as a midwinter sky, and my heart is caught. Gravely I take the cup from her, and as I taste the dark wine my gaze does not leave hers.
And then she moves on: “Ferthu Aragorn hal!” I hear the sun's warmth breaking forth in her voice as she offers to him; and I know without looking what answer will be in his eyes, and I feel the icy pain of thwarted hope for this proud slender sapling of a mighty line, who must know frost once more before the coming of her Spring.