Legolas grimaced. “The cup proves more difficult to drink than I had anticipated,” confessed he. “I can hardly bring myself to partake of it.” He sighed heavily.

“My nights, they are not without their fears; and my days, what must I say, they also are not without their anxieties. At every turn there are my actions to consider; and decidedly, they are not without consequence.” A somber expression heightened the elven beauty of his face as he proceeded, “It is befitting that I should be thus conflicted. Little do I deserve the regard of such a one whose noble heart still cleaves to me. Yet, even so would I be a liar if I feigned that my heart has not been stirred to rejoice. A glimpse of happiness, an ocean of regrets, and my fate is sealed. I have thought it over many times; I have chided myself for my former want of reserve; I knew in my heart, however vaguely, that I was not free to love; at least, not without ascertaining the nature of those hopes that I had left behind in Mirkwood; not only for my honor’s sake, but for the sake of the past. I never dreamt that my path would lead me to this place, bridled as it is with remorse.”

As Aragorn listened to his companion, admittedly he felt little sympathy for his situation. Indeed, since that was the course upon which the prince was determined, he prayed only that he would embark thereupon directly. He was of the opinion that the sooner this business was settled, the better it would be for all involved. For, while he esteemed and respected the affairs of love, he was no connoisseur on the intricacies of that delicate state and rather hoped that it would occupy progressively less of his conversations.

“Yes, I see how it is,” Legolas half-heartedly chided; it was almost as if he had divined the thoughts of his friend. “There is no commiserating with the foolish,” pursued he. “However be it so, I bear you no ill will in that conclusion. Indeed I have carved for myself a most undesirable situation.”

“Easily lamentable but nonetheless reconcilable,” Aragorn encouraged. “Perhaps, Legolas, it is time for you to relinquish all thoughts of Melian. I hesitate to speak unreservedly, without your leave, but if you will hear me, it might be the thing you need to hear.”

Legolas inhaled deeply and nodded. “I will trust to your judgment.”

“You first need to acknowledge that there can be no happy conclusion to this situation and inescapably, one or more persons entangled therein are destined to be injured. You do more harm in your hesitation by allowing hopes to flourish on one side and suspicion to germinate on the other. “

“Think you then that I should marry directly?” Legolas queried in a mildly irritated tone, which did not go undetected by his companion.

“Where the timing of your nuptials are concerned, I accede to your judgment,” Aragorn declared. “However, where Melian is concerned, and I say this not only as her kinsman but as one who has her happiness close to heart, I do not think that you see clearly enough how your words, your kindness, your presence, torments her.”

Legolas nodded though he uttered not a word. His lips, which were moments before decidedly compressed in a stern line, now softened into a slight feeble smile, as the veracity of AragornÂ’s words demanded their justice of him.

———————————————————–

Quiet reflection had brought Melian to that abject place of perfect mortification. The complete abandonment of her rational sensibilities had left her quite socially incapacitated for the duration of the evening. Her companions found her to be inexplicably mundane and soon forfeited any hopes of further engaging her in the eveningÂ’s diversions. All the while our fair elven maiden was sensible only to the inner turmoil of her mind and heart and rather wished herself back in her own suite where must needs be solitude and quiet, whereupon affairs can be pondered and resolutions made.

Melian thought herself utterly wretched. She was entirely insensitive to the fact that her feelings exaggerated themselves. She was quite vexed by what she erroneously perceived to be her current predicament and was in danger of becoming quite vexed with everything and everyone. Not to mention that harmonious laughter of Lady VanaÂ’s that taunted her hearing every so often. Melian deemed it near insufferable to endure and therefore sought to discover any means of escape that was open to her.

Consequently, she soon found herself in the cool evening air endeavoring to put as much distance as possible between her tormented soul and the merry bouts of laughter that drifted to her from forsaken gaieties. How could it be that her heart, formerly contented in its slumber, had awakened to unrequited love? What offense had she committed? What transgression exacted this of her?

And so her thoughts rambled on seeking some answer for this penance unheeding the light sound of footsteps ahead until she was almost upon the owner thereof. A deep flush tainted her cheeks when she realized it was the prince. Most impressively on her mind was the revival of that eveningÂ’s disagreement.

Both were immediately apologetic for interrupting the other and gave voice to those effusions in marked discomfiture.

The prince was the first to regain calm composure and entreated Melian to abort her intended retreat to the house. Both were ill at ease and both privily reproached themselves for lacking the foresight that would have prevented their situation.

Nevertheless, Legolas rose to the situation and began by engaging Melian in light banter about the pleasant weather they were having that evening. It was the safest subject that he could then think of while his emotions were still revolting against the judgment of AragornÂ’s words.

Melian, who had been thinking of every conceivable excuse there was to disengage herself from the princeÂ’s company, was forced by her more noble sensibilities to submit. That is, until his tone assumed a peculiar note that forewarned her that there was trouble ahead.

The prince had halted abruptly. There was something that weighed heavily upon his heart that must needs be unburdened. He dared not kiss her hand, though he longed to; he dared not brush the stray strands of hair from her cheek, though he yearned to; he dared not trace the beauty of that face, though he pined to.

Instead, he resigned himself to that which was in his power to do in the asking of MelianÂ’s forgiveness.

As the fates would have it, the petition for forgiveness and the suspense of its answer was abrogated by the sound of approaching footsteps accompanied by an assault of merry laughter. All intentions of conciliation were temporary abandoned, even leaving one prince somewhat relieved lest in his perturbed state of mind he had revealed too much.