Where was that Eleina? In the midst of preparations for Legolas’ conception celebration, the little elfling seemed to have wandered off – which was, of course, not out of the ordinary for her. What was strange, though, was that Legolas, in all his expertise as a tracker, was unable to follow her quick little footsteps, her tittering voice, or the crashes, bangs, and thuds that tended to follow in her wake.

“Nereglin!” Eleina’s guardian happened to amble into view, two baskets overflowing with dark red blossoms hiding him from hip to nose. “Have you seen Eleina?”

“Good afternoon, Legolas. Is she not with you? Well, clearly . . . and she hasn’t broken anything or started shrieking for help? My, it’s a miracle. I do hope she hasn’t wandered off into the forest . . .” Legolas watched his retreating back, awed by Nereglin’s lack of concern for the missing elfling. Nereglin and his ward had a strange relationship. He certainly cared for the little imp, and she spoke highly of him. He didn’t treat her like the child she was, though – that was it! He laughed at her antics, but in all other ways spoke to her and about her as though she were simply another eccentric adult. But then, he spoke about everything in that same slightly monotone, airy voice. There was something a bit off about him.

With a sigh of frustration, Legolas continued his search, calling, “Eleina!” and looking under tables, in dark corners, behind curtains. He checked all her usual hiding spots, all her unusual hiding spots, and any new spots he thought she might have discovered. Really, what was she thinking, wandering off on his conception day? Had she forgotten and gone out visiting with some of the other servants? Amergin had offered to take her out to visit his family, sometime . . . but surely neither would be so foolish as to forget his conception day!

But then Amergin came into view, strutting around a corner with Elrohir. The latter and his brother had made the trek from Imladris for the celebration, never ones to be left out of festivities of any kind. The lady Arwen had just left to spend time with her aunt in Lothlorien, and so would be unable to make the evening banquet, much to Legolas’ disappointment. Next year, she promised in the letter sent with the twins, and she would bring the best present of all.

It was quite cold, even for typical January weather, and a thick layer of packed white snow would have given away her trail had Eleina wandered off into the outdoors. Though Elves could walk on top of the snow with ease, Eleina still managed to leave holes where she leapt to and fro, or swished her skirts, or threw herself down to make snow angels. Still Legolas looked, searching every entrance to and from the Halls for her tiny footprints, the smallest of anyone in the Hall by a longshot. None were to be found, though, and listening to the still woods, Legolas couldn’t hear any piping voice. Even were she alone, chances were Eleina would be chatting with herself, scolding herself, or entertaining herself with a song created on the spot to fit the occasion.

Legolas had about given up on finding her before his celebration when he suddenly heard the faintest of melodies carrying through the servants’ quarters, oddly enough the one place he had yet to look. Eleina often voiced her own dislike of the wing, of the mustiness, of the dark and damp. Understandably, the wing was the deepest and darkest of the halls, and sunny Eleina hated it. Now, though, she seemed to have forced herself to be content; after only a few short seconds of quick strutting through the halls – it was his conception day, after all – Legolas found the doorway behind which she had hid herself.

Someday, after a huge row and more than a little embarrassment, Legolas would be forced to sign a physical contract promising to knock before he entered any room which Eleina might be in. That was still a few years off, however, and Legolas thought nothing of throwing the door open and barking,

“Eleina, I’ve been looking all–“

”LEGOLAS! GET OUT – GET OUT – GET OUT!!” Eleina instantly shrieked, launching herself across the room and against the door, nearly breaking his fingers in the process.

“Eleina!”

“Legolas!” she hissed back, cracking the door open and sticking her nose and an eye out. “You can’t just come in here!”

“What are you talking about? Here I’ve been looking all over for you. You said you wanted to come help me get ready,” he reminded, choosing to forget the teasing that had ensued when Eleina learned there would be beautiful elven maidens present. They had nothing to do with his desire to look nice. It was his conception day. That was all. He didn’t care about some snotty elven maidens. If they thought he looked nice, so be it, but he certainly wasn’t dressing for them!

“Well I can’t help you anymore. I haven’t even gotten dressed yet, and I have to finish something first.”

“What something? I’ll help you and then you can–“ he offered, beginning to push on the door.

“No!” she yelped, pushing harder back and wedging her toe into the bottom to keep it from moving. “I told you, you can’t come in. Just . . . go away, I’ll come find you later.”

“But–“

”Go away, Legolas!” That said, she gave the door as hard a slam as possible without letting him see inside. Legolas could only glare at her through the door, then stomp off to get himself ready. What could she possibly be doing that was more important than helping him get ready like she had offered? Sure, he had acted like the idea annoyed him at the time, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want her help!

Despite what she had said, Eleina did not come find him later. In fact, Legolas arrived to his own celebration flanked only by Elladan, Elrohir, and Amergin. Already the Great Hall was flooded with dozens of important and familiar elves dressed in their finest, conversing as they drifted among the bouquets of red winter blossoms and boughs of holly. Against the growing dark outside, torches and candles cast flickering shadows against the walls, and a great bonfire roared in the central hearth, nearly scorching anything within a five-meter radius. Elladan and Amergin spent a good half hour chucking small balls of tinsel into the fire from a short distance away to watch the bursts of colored flame with raucous delight until a snooty elven maiden rolled her eyes and scolded them for being so childish.

Not all the maidens were snooty, though, of course. One in particular, a beautiful Maralien from Lakewood with the richest chestnut hair Legolas had ever seen, had smiled politely when they were introduced, exchanged kind pleasantries, and had on several occasions now made eye contact with the prince from across the room. Where was Eleina to help him carry on a coherent conversation with this . . . Legolas didn’t even know what to call one so beautiful.

Soon the feast was set, and Legolas found himself passed up to the head of the table, to the seat to the right of his father’s. The array of food was overwhelming, and even with the mysterious absence of Eleina, Legolas couldn’t focus on anything except the sweet promise of red wine, rosewood-smoked goose, and fluffy clorense soup.

Thranduil rose to make some formal, clearly rehearsed speech about the importance of remembering the conception of his only son, which Legolas listened to very little of. The aloofness of his father was bothering him more lately. But that was of no concern now.

Just as Legolas was about to make a rude but excusable faux pas in reaching instantly for the soup, the fire behind him suddenly turned a ghastly green shade. His eyes instantly searched for Elladan and Amergin to maturely lecture them on the stupidity of playing with the bonfire when everyone was watching – but they were nowhere to be seen. A drumroll seized everyone’s attention, and all eyes turned to the far entrance of the hall as the heavy wooden doors were suddenly flung open.

In marched little Eleina, buried beneath what looked to be a long white bedsheet. It trailed a good meter behind her and almost completely hid her pretty blue party dress that one of the royal seamstresses had made her for her own conception day a few weeks before. A red winter blossom was tucked into the curls of her hair, and she carried in her arms a soft crown of more red blossoms. On either side of her walked Elladan and Elrohir, in similar white sheets, and then Amergin, dressed in all black.

“What the–“

”Greetings!” Eleina announced over the sudden murmurs in the Great Hall. “I am Eru, the One!” The outright sacrilege of such an announcement was lost beneath the muffled snickers as she continued, “I have come to illustrate the conception of Legolas of Mirkwood!”

“Well, we aren’t exactly going to illustrate it–“ Amergin began, but Eleina hissed at him over her shoulder, “Hush! You don’t have any lines yet!”

Turning to face Legolas directly, she began again, “Hear ye, hear ye, I am Eru, the One, come to sing for you the story of Legolas’ conception.” With a broad sweep of both her hands, she began lowly chanting something, so softly that the words came out hardly a breath. Legolas leaned forward on the table to try and decipher them; suddenly all thought of food was gone. What was this silly little elf doing? Just as Legolas almost thought he could make out what she said, she suddenly fell silent and sat down.

“In the beginning, only I existed,” she shared, pulling her knees up to her chest. “But I was oh so lonely. So I created . . .”

“Me!”

“And me!”

“We are the Valar,” Elladan explained, bringing his sheet-robe out to the sides so that they looked like wings. There was something painted on the inside, though it wasn’t clear exactly what.

Elrohir added, “But apparently we weren’t good looking enough for Eru–“

”So I taught them some songs to try and entertain me,” Eleina explained, rising again and taking their hands. They began swaying side to side, the three of them singing together, “Lonely, lonely world sprung from a dark void. Lonely, lonely Eru, even the almighty want to be loved. The Valar were created to warm up the cold nights. But with no earth to build a fire upon, how much warmer can you really get?” One of the musicians managed to follow along on his violin for the last line, which earned a few laughs around the hall. Fortunately, Eleina thought this was great and sent him a not-so-secret thumbs up.

“But because we all got bored of each other real quick--,” Eleina told, turning her back to the audience.

“–Eru taught us different songs to create a world–“

”–And people!” Elladan and Elrohir announced together. At the declaration, both spun their sheets inside out to reveal quite charming paintings Eleina had done. One showed a beautiful beach with elves strolling about, making sandcastles or relaxing in the sun, some even wading around in the water. The other was clearly the snow-covered Mirkwood, with small black figures wandering amid the trees or making snowmen or patrolling with bows and arrows.

The three sang together, Eleina doing a silly little dance, “To fill the lonely and dark void, a world of beautiful people created. The Valar sang them into life, shaping each face with loving fingers, trying to find the one face that would help Eru end his search for happiness.” More of the musicians joined in this time, occasionally hitting wrong notes in their experimentation, though it only added to the scene.

“However, even all these beautiful elves weren’t enough,” Eleina sighed, falling back to the ground and resting her chin in her hands.

“But then suddenly I had an idea,” Elrohir smiled, holding up one finger. “We would go to the wise oldest of our kind to see what he thought we should do to make Eru happy.”

Amergin re-entered the stage with his black robe pulled over his head so that only his eyes showed.

“Amergin!” Eleina hissed. “We can’t see your face!” Legolas bit his lip to keep from laughing at Eleina’s clear frustration.

Instantly, Amergin pulled his robe down and sang, “I am the wisest of the wise, second only to Eru himself. I am ugly and alone in my cave of wonders, but at least I am clever and wise.”

“Amergin! Those aren’t the words!”

Amergin sent Legolas a wink, then fell silent as Elladan and Elrohir approached him to explain their desire to make Eru “stop crying already,” –at which point they sent Eleina pointed looks that went over her head. She was too busy appearing sorrowful as dramatically as she knew how.

“I have just the song for you to sing,” Amergin assured the two, bringing them in closer to him. He began the song this time, growing louder until the two joined in, “To make Eru happy, you must make him one as stubborn–“

”–wonderful!” Eleina corrected loudly.

“–as himself. Give him the face of the loveliest winter blossom and the breath–“

”–courage!”

“–of the foulest beast, the wisdom that I myself possess, and the happiness of the dumbest–“

”–brightest ray of sunshine!” Eleina belted over them, giving all three boys looks of pure hatred. “And thus was Legolas conceived!” Her smile returned as she pranced over to place the crown of winter blossoms on his head. It was a little big and slipped due to Legolas’ entire body shaking with suppressed guffaws. Mere laughter didn’t do this performance justice.

“After the creation of this fair and wonderful and beautiful and splendid–“

”–spoiled little princeling,” Elrohir interrupted Elladan, “Eru was . . .”

“Happy!” Eleina grinned, throwing her arms wide up in the air. “Finally I had someone besides these three buffoons to keep me company.”

“Hey!”

“Why you little–“

”Happy Conception Day, Legolas!” Eleina managed to rush out as Amergin pulled her up and flung her over his shoulder, forcing her to elicit shrieks of laughter. “Let me down! I have to curtsy! Amergin!” Eleina continued to yell as the Great Hall erupted in applause. Elladan and Elrohir bowed, and Amergin did the best he could manage with Eleina still wriggling to be let down. Finally he set her on her feet and she gave a low, dramatic curtsy before skipping off, sending Legolas one final smile.

Her own seat at the banquet, despite her close friendship with Legolas, was down at the far end of the table with a few less important guests, whom she apparently kept in stitches for most of the meal. Then, once the dancing and after-supper festivities began, Legolas hardly got a word with her.

Only once he approached her to begin, “Eleina, that was–“ but suddenly Maralien of Lakewood was by his side, blushing and smiling with all the loveliness of a shy young maiden.

“I didn’t realize you had a younger sister, Legolas.”

“Oh, she’s actually–“

”She’s adorable,” Maralien continued, watching Eleina’s curls bounce as she skipped off to dance with one of the older lords. “I bet you’re an excellent older brother.”

Legolas’ face flushed just the slightest bit as he stammered, “Well, you know, of course, I try. Children these days, though. Just into everything. . .”

By the time the party was wrapping to a close, and a majority of the guests were wandering off to their rooms, Eleina had fallen asleep in a cushioned chair near the fire. Legolas, bleary-eyed and flushed from all the excitement, found her and for a long moment simply smiled at the little imp. What a silly – and yet extraordinary – gift her little play had been. Clearly she had put a lot of work into it, and directing those three “buffoons,” as she termed them, was no easy feat.

As if feeling his eyes on her, Eleina cracked her lids open just the slightest, and whispered, “Is it time for bed yet?”

“Yes, little one,” Legolas smiled, leaning down to easily scoop her into his arms. “Come, I’ll give the fair lady a ride home.” Eleina gave the softest, sleepiest of giggles and buried her cold nose in his neck as they strode from the Great Hall amid the good night wishes of other exhausted guests.

“Did you enjoy your party, Legolas?”

“I loved it.”

“And my play?”

“I loved it even more.”

“Elladan and Elrohir and Amergin kept trying to ruin it.”

“It was still wonderful.”

“You can keep those paintings, too, okay? I made them for you.”

“All right.” They reached her room, no bigger than a small closet with hardly enough room for Eleina’s bed and a trunk for her clothes. “Here you are, little elf. Good night.”

“Good night, Legolas,” Eleina managed to breathe out before her eyes closed again for the night, not having entirely opened during their walk.

To make sure they wouldn’t get lost, Legolas stumbled back to the hall to grab her paintings, where they had been folded and set to the side. He liked the beach one, which probably was based on Eleina’s old home to the north. The Mirkwood one was lovely in its stark contrast of blacks, whites, and greys. But the third one, the one painted on the inside of Eleina’s sheet, was Legolas’ favorite: a small girl elf held the hand of a taller boy elf as the two walked off into the sunset. They were little more than black outlines against the bright yellows and oranges of the sky, but there was no doubt who they were.

“Good luck trying to top this, Arwen,” Legolas mumbled to himself, turning with the sheets in his arms to blindly find his way to his own bed. The music of the night still dancing through his head, he sang softly to himself, “To make Eru happy, you must make him one as wonderful as himself. Give him the face of the loveliest winter blossom and the courage of the foulest beast. . .”