A Voice That Lingers
by KimmyLynn

Pairing: L/E
Rating: PG-13
Category: AU
Disclaimer: They don't belong to me, and I am using them without permission. Covington Glen is the Faire name at TNRF, and I have used it here without permission. Queen Musette and Aramont belongs to me. I am fully aware that Greensleves was written by Henry VIII, but I didn't fugure he would mind a little creative liscense. I am making no profit from this, so please don't sue me.
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Have you ever loved someone so much that it hurt? Have you ever fallen in love with someone that you knew would only bring you pain and heartache? Have you ever loved someone so much that you would walk away from everything, only to be in their arms? He has. Once he was a gentleman of the court of Queen Musette of Aramont, a child born to wealth and prestige; a man of nobility. He had everything he could have ever wanted, everything that people dream of. Wealth, honor, a place in court, access to the queen herself. He traveled in the grandest of circles, surrounded always by beauty. He knew nothing of the world outside castle walls, and cared not to learn. The world was a dirty place full of the poor and destitute; full of gypsies and heathens. And he was above all of that, he was above them. He lived not in their world, but in a world seperate from them. They passed through his world when needed, but were never a part of it. They were there to serve him, to make his life simpler. And he walked through their's on the rare occasion, to amuse himself; to remind himself that he would never be one of them. Do not judge him for those beliefs, they were all he knew. That was how he had been brought up, those were beliefs and values instilled in him from birth. They were his heritage, his birthright.

He was Lord Elrond of Rivendell, only child of a great nobleman. He was once a gentleman of the court, once the pride of many a beautiful noble. You do not believe me? Look at the portrait, tell me that you don't see the magical beauty that made him the courtier he was. How do I know? Because that is my heritage, my birthright. Because I have heard the story all of my life, the story of their love. The grand, sweeping saga of the Lord Elrond and his handsome gypsy love. Would you care to hear it, it is a while still before the Tower closes; and I have plenty of time. Very well, make yourself comfortable here on this bench. It is not a happy tale, not in the end. I feel that I must warn you of that before we start. You seem like the sentimental type, and I do not wish to trouble you. But it is a beautiful story of how love can overcome many things, how love endures. You wish me to continue? Very well, let us start at the beginning.

Lord Elrond, as I said, was a courtier in the court of Queen Musette. It was a wonderful time to be a courtier, but yet it was frought with danger. One walked a fine line in those days, especially where the queen was concerned. Everyone wished to be lover to the queen, but few wanted to be king. Being king was itself frought with danger, as Musette was seemingly fond of having her husbands killed when displeased. Elrond was one of the lucky few to walk the line well, to stay just this side of marriage. It is said that he was the most beloved of all the queen's lovers, the most revered. It has often been speculated that Greeensleves was written for him, although that has never been proven. The point being that Elrond was in a very enviable position in court, a position that brought him much happiness. And perhaps he would have lived out his life amongst the glittering finery and court intrigue, if not for the arrival of Legolas.

Legolas was an elf by birth, a gypsy minstrel by trade. He came to the court quite by accident really, having been heard singing by Musette herself. It was during a faire given in the queen's honor, by the people of Covington Glen. The whole court was in attendance, and Legolas was part of the entertainment at the royal feast. He, along with two others, entertained the masses with song and dance for many an hour. It was said that Elrond himself was the one that suggested perhaps the castle could use such entertainment. Queen Musette, not often willing to deny him, had asked the three gypsies to come for an extended stay at court. They had graciously denied the offer at first, knowing of the consuquences should one come to displease the queen. Musette, however, made it clear that it was not an invitation; but more a demand. And thus the three came to the court, and the wheel of fate began to turn.

Legolas feel in love with Elrond from the moment that he saw him, even though he knew the consequences of such love. He was a courtier, a noble; Legolas was a gypsy. They were from two seperate worlds, worlds which would never meet. He watched him from afar, dreamed of him, spent hours writing poetry in his honor. His friends feared for him, feared the changes that they saw in him. He became quiet and withdrawn, no longer the merry elf that he had always been. Things may have gone on that way forever, had fate not stepped in. It had been a warm spring morning, one of those days that comes so very rarely here. A day that offered promise, the sort of day that lingers in the memory of men. And it was on this morning that Lord Elrond encountered the love-sick Legolas in the castle's garden. He was secreted away amongst the roses, daydreaming of his love. Elrond had stumbled across him quite by accident, and had stopped to watch him. His eyes were closed, his long lashes lying against dusky skin. A smile played at the corners of his lips, lips that were full and sensual. He was beautiful, a fact that had not escaped Elrond's notice. For Elrond himself had been suffering of late, dreaming of the handsome gypsy with the icy blue eyes.

Elrond had found himself intrigued by the handsome Legolas, something that had come as quiet a shock for him. He had never paid much attention to gypsies, especially the males. They were simply a necessary evil in his world. But after his first performance at court, he had found himself enraptured. It was his voice, the soft voice of an angel, that had first drawn Elrond in. And as he had watched and listened, he had begun to notice the fair beauty that the elf possessed. Soon, he found himself thinking of him often; found him drifting through his dreams. He had fallen in love with Legolas, but had been unwilling to admit that even to himself. Then the fateful day had dawned, the morning when his life would change forever. He had found himself unable to walk away from the elf, had wanted only to stay and watch him as he slept. His eyes had fluttered open, his gaze falling on Elrond.

"I did not mean to startle you.", Elrond had whispered.

"Odd, my dreams have never spoken to me before.", he had said.

"I am no dream Legolas, I am as real as you."

"You...know my name?"

"Of course I know your name. Why would I not?", he had asked.

"You are...a noble of the court. And I am..."

"And you are a gypsy. Yes, I know. Perhaps that is the allure."

"Perhaps.", he had whispered as he walked to him.

He had taken Elrond in his arms, kissing him as he had always dreamed he would. It was a kiss that would inspire and condemn, a kiss that was both life and death. From that kiss was born a love that defied the rules, a love that would transcend life and death; a love that would speak to the masses throughout the ages. It was the sort of love that legends are made of, a love that has inspired bards and poets; sinners and saints. They hid their love as best they could, not an easy task in the court of Queen Musette. But hide it they did, for almost three years. But pride was to be the death of that, the wounded pride of a gypsy minstrel. It was all because of Greensleves, the song written by Queen Musette herself. You have heard of the song I presume? Yes, of course. And it was believed, especially amongst the court, that the song was about Elrond. Legolas had believed it as well, and had sat about writing his own homage to the love of his life. It was no wonder, came as no surprise to his friends. Elrond was his life, his heart, his muse. He had inspired him for so very long, inspired him in secret. It is said that Legolas wrote some of the most beautiful ballads ever heard in court, songs that brough tears to the eyes of all that heard them. Sadly, none have survived; having been banned by the queen herself after... Well, we will get to that. For now, let us focus on the song.

Now, Lord Elrond was well known amongst the courtiers; a favorite of many. He was often called Rose Red, because of his flaming hair and his delicate beauty. It was a name that was well known to all, and it was that name that Legolas used in his ballad. It was the most moving thing that he had ever written, a ballad destined for greatness. A song that very well could have echoed through the ages, rivaling Greensleves in its movement and fragility. Elrond was unaware of the ballad, Legolas had kept it secret from him; knowing that he would only try to stop him. He knew the consequences of his actions, and why he did what he did will forever remain a mystery. Perhaps he thought that the queen would be moved by their love, that she would grant them her pardon. More likely, he wrongly believed that Elrond would not be implicated. Perhaps his life was less important than telling the world what was in his heart, perhaps it was a love worth dying for. No one knows for sure, although many still debate the possibilities. No, I do not know the answer; although I have my beliefs. I believe that he did love Elrond more than life, and that love became the driving force of a life that had been lived so much in obscurity.

So, the ballad was debuted at the queen's birthday ball; an event that was to be the grand culmination of a week of festivities. The court was stunned by the beauty of it, and shocked by the implications of his words. Elrond himself had been stunned, the words that flowed past Legolas' lips a homage to the love that they had so long shared in secret. Perhaps the queen would have overlooked the song, written it off as the desperate words of a love-sick gypsy; words meant for the man that he could never possess. But it was the hidden message in the words that sealed their fate, the meaning of which was all to clear to the queen. Simply words, that carried a wealth of meaning. "Rose Rose Rose Red, shall I ever see thee wed? I would marry at thy will sire, at thy will" A question that still echoes today, the only portion of the song that remains. You have heard it? Oh yes, they did incorporate it into a longer song. One can only imagine what the rest held, the magic that his words would have conjured. All that is known is that Queen Musette flew into a rage, and the world began to fall down around them all.

Legolas and Elrond made an attempt to escape, hoped to become lost in the chaos that the court fell into. They made it as far as the garden, before they were overtaken by the queen's guards. Legolas died there, trying to protect Elrond. He died in his arms, there in the garden where their love had first bloomed; his name the last word on his lips. As for Elrond, he was brought here to the Tower. That should tell you something of the love that the queen had felt for him, of the power that he had over her. She had been unable to see him put to death, and yet could not allow him to go free. She kept him here in the Tower, visited him often. Elrond spent the rest of his life in a suite of rooms on the top floor, dying eventually of a broken heart they say. Today, the suite is a part of the Tower tour. You did not see it? Ahh, some of the guides skip it. They are afraid of the suite, claim to feel a presence there. Yes, it is foolish. But the guides are not alone in that belief, there have been many tourists that have claimed to feel someone brush past them in the rooms. Many have claimed to see a man standing at the window, and others have claimed to hear him sing. And there are those that have claimed to smell the fragrance of roses there, most often accompanied by the appearance of the man at the window. Rose Red he is called, because of the scent and his red hair. What, bells? No, I don't think that anyone has ever heard bells. Odd that you mentioned bells, because that was a part of the legend that I forgot to mention. Legolas had always worn a string of bells around his wrist, a gypsy custom they say. After his death, it is said that Elrond took the bells and wore them around his wrist. It was his homage to Legolas, to his handsome gypsy love. It is said that they jingled when he moved, and that Queen Musette was driven almost mad by them. Perhaps what you heard where Legolas' bells; forever wrapped around the wrist of Elrond.

Well, that is the tale of Lord Elrond and his handsome gyspy prince. As I said, it is not a happy tale; and I can see that it has made you sad. But you must remember, I warned you. No, I do not work here at the Tower. I do come here often, mostly to look at the portrait and imagine what they were like. Yes, there is a portrait of Legolas; in Elrond's suite. It was painted by him, during his imprisonment. It is a shame that you did not get to see it, you look rather like Legolas. Perhaps you are.... No, it is not as impossible as you might think. Legolas had a family, brothers and sisters; and his blood still runs in the veins of their descendants. So, perhaps you are more than you thought when you came here; perhaps there was a reason that brought you to the Tower. Perhaps this story is your heritage, your birthright. And you do resemble him a great deal, especially the eyes. Maybe that amazing voice was a gift from him, a gift that came to you across the centuries. At any rate, the hour has grown late; and it appears that the Tower will soon be closing. It was very nice to meet you, I hope that the story was to your liking. Perhaps we will see each other again. My name? It is not important, not really. You may call me Ronnie if you like, it is a pet name. And there are your friends now, I see that it is time for you to go. Goodbye, and remember the story; it is your heritage now.


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