The Prince's Visions

Chapter Twenty Two

    Legolas

    Riding bareback upon Arod, I race through Mirkwood forest with my heart full of anticipation. It has been months since I have last laid eyes upon my beautiful wife, and my heart has been heavy every passing moment without her. I missed waking up beside her in the early morning light, kissing her deeply in the morning when she would tell me that I must leave our room in order to get my duties as king finished for the day, and holding her in my arms when I finally found my way back to our room at the end of a long day. She is always patient, a perfect trait for a queen. She was my wife, my queen, and my bestfriend. Leaving her is always the most difficult thing I ever have to do.

    I weave in between the thick trunks of trees. The sun filters through the bright green leaves creating a kaleidoscope of color that, long before I had Eilonwy in my life, would have proven to be the only thing to send warmth, peace, and contentedness swimming in my heart. I smell the soft, musky scent of the soil and feel the cool, refreshing breeze brushing its fingers over my cheeks and through my hair. Arod runs so fiercely beneath me that I assume he must be as anxious as I am to arrive home.

  The large gates of my homeland lie ahead of me, and as I approach they begin to open, welcoming me home like a warm, comforting embrace. Arod's hooves thunder onto the stones of the courtyard, and I pull back on his reins, bringing him to a smooth, effortless stop. I am immediately greeted by guards and servants, all welcoming me home with relieved, kind smiles, but I pay them little attention as I slide off of Arod and stride to the doors of the palace in search of my queen.

        "Where is my wife?" I ask one of the guards I pass.

        He immediately answers. "I believe she is in your bedchambers, my king."

        My throat tightens at his words, and I only manage a nod as I begin to make my way into the palace.

        "My king," he says in confusion as I simply brush past him, "There is much to discuss since your absence."

        My mindset doesn't waver as I continue in my stride toward mine and Eilonwy's room. "We may discuss things later," I tell him using the most patient tone of voice I can muster, calmly dismissing him.

        I wander along the corridors in search of her, wanting nothing but to look into her gorgeous green eyes for the first time in what feels like centuries. I come to the large oak door of our bedroom, taking a deep breath of excitement before opening it. My gaze travels around the room, not seeing her in our bedchamber. I walk through the opening in our wall that joins the bedchamber to the library, and my heart stops in my chest when I see her.

        She stands in front of her easel, her hand guiding the paintbrush elegantly, gracefully over the canvas paper. Her flame colored hair cascades down her back in beautiful curls, and her thin white nightgown adorns her body, hugging her small and dainty curves in ways that make my pulse thunder through my veins. My gaze travels down her short, porcelain legs admiringly. She is oblivious to my presence, completely immersed in her artwork, and a smile makes its way to my lips as I watch her. She stands there, looking like a wonderful, ethereal dream, and I have to remind myself, as I have had to do hundreds of times, that she is my wife and queen, that she is real.

        I approach her slowly and quietly, not wanting to alert her to my presence just yet. As I come to stand behind her, her natural flowery scent floats up to me, wrapping me in its comforting arms. I step even closer to her when she pulls the brush away from the canvas for a moment in order to appraise her work. I take this moment to wrap my arms around her waist softly, pulling her against me completely. She gasps in fright, tensing in my arms for a moment before relaxing.