Post by Móreadhiel on Jun 13, 2006 15:11:58 GMT -5
Legolas leaned back, throwing a twig that he had found on the marble floor into the fire.
The sun light splayed upon his hair through the open window and beyond the tree.
He yawned and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, he could hardly remember what he had come down here to do, why had he gotten up and walked to the hall of fire?
The flames roared and leapt at the new pieces of wood that an elf had just put in. They devoured it and seemed to tell a story.
“Legolas!”
The name made his head snap and he looked back to the entry which was being held open by two wooden doorstops.
He knew the voice easily after the months and months it had been. He turned his face to the fair Lady Arwen as she ran in, a frantic look in her deep blue eyes.
“Oh, Legolas!” The prince stretched his arms out lazily in question and waited. “He’s gone!”
‘These Noldor elves think I know everything.’ he thought to himself as he patted the seat next to him, she sat down and put her head in her silky hands, sobbing hard.
Putting his own hand upon Arwen’s shoulder, he rubbed soothingly as he sat up and tried to calm her irregular breathing.
“Estel’s gone!” she breathed into her hands, her eyes straying to the door as Thranduil walked in. “Father and him had a fight.”
“Gone, what do you mean gone? Why? What fight?” the elven king ran forward and bent next to her. Her grabbed her hands and brushed them gently. “Where?”
“How am I supposed to answer these questions?” she flicked her hands away and hid them beneath the folds in her dress so no one could touch her. “He was not in his room, his bed had not even been slept in. He took no extra clothes or food. All that was missing was his sword. But he took that on our ride last night.”
Standing, the elven prince was about to leave, determination written all over his smooth features.
A strong grip on his shoulder made him turn, he saw his father’s blue eyes searching him. “Where are you going?”
Legolas rolled his shoulders until Thranduil’s hands had loosened. Beginning to walk again, he was called to a halt as the elven king’s voice broke and he looked at his child with mournful eyes.
“Why, Legolas? Estel has abandoned you. He has not invited you to be near him in months, he has spent more time with her-” he motioned to the still crying elven maiden behind him. “He cares not about you anymore, he left you alone, my son. He left you to tend to himself, that is the human way.” The king shook his head.
He had thought Aragorn was different, but in the end, he knew Estel to be the same as any other love-sick selfish man. ‘They think they can have any friend they want and then abandon them, all for the sake of a girl!’
Turning, a flare in his deep, sky blue gaze, the prince placed a hand on Thranduil’s strong shoulders. The elf king saw no hatred, no pain in his child’s eyes that day. For the first time in months, he saw the true Legolas. But he did more than see, he heard.
“B-because, H-he I-s m-my friend.” The elf prince’s voice was dry and he stuttered often from lack of speaking for so long. But for the first time, for a long while, the elven king watched as his boy did the thing he had been wanting for so very long!
Legolas watched as the crystal tears fell from the other’s proud eyes. This was all the convincing that Thranduil needed. To hear his son say it, that was enough for him! Oh, Eru! That was enough.
The elf king hugged the prince for a few more long minutes, his eyes still closed with joy, tears squeezing through the gap and falling down his pale cheeks. They glistened as they dropped from his chin to the marble floor.
As the blonde prince pulled away, he whispered something that Thranduil throughout his immortal life would never forget.
“I-I-I Love Y..you, A-ada.”
Restraining everything in him from pulling Legolas into another long hug. The king pushed his son away with a playful grin as he let the tears fall.
“Go get him, Legolas! Bring Estel home!”
~_~
Aragorn sat, his lithe form a lonely sight against the moon that shone high upon in the sky.
The stars shimmered and the winds whispered words that seemed to ache in the man’s tired ears, carefully he leaned over and closed his sightless eyes as he felt the weariness in his body released from the worry and fear.
Fear that his father hated him, fear that Legolas felt he was no longer a friend. Fear that his brothers thought him a snake and Arwen, fear that she though him to be a helpless blind man.
Finally his thoughts drifted away to far off memories and into near-by sleep.
“I love you, Arwen.”
The she-elf’s wavy, raven colored hair shifted in the breeze and she leaned forward, kissing him upon the cheek and playing with pieces of his hair around her pale fingers.
“I love you.” Quietly, she layed her soft head down upon his lap and let his fingers brush through her own silky hair.
As they sat darkness came, and the thunder roared, Aragorn began to shiver and he realized that he was no longer stroking his beloved’s hair. In fact, he was stroking nothing! She was gone!
He felt a rumble beneath him and his body shook all the more, he heard the echo of one loud and angry voice.
“You are weak!”
“You are helpless!”
“You will never be able to care for her!”
Shooting up, his breathing coming out hard, Aragorn felt around, feeling for some reality to grab onto.
“I am sorry, sorry,” he kept whispering. “I am sorry.” He felt only the patches of grass as they swayed in the wind and brushed against his arms.
Estel let his panting breaths die away and brought a hand up to his sweaty hair, he wiped the perspiration away and sighed.
He felt no light upon his skin, nor the smiling rays of the sun. A mist of cool rain washed upon him making the problems of his troubled life fade for one instant, but alas, they came back and threw his mind into an awful haze.
“I belong nowhere,” he whispered, wiping the dripping water from his smooth face.
He had grown accustomed to shaving when living in Imladris and his skin had retained the feeling that an elf might have, but now as he had no such utensils, and plus the fact that he did not care, a hard, bristling beard was beginning to form.
“What is my path, Eru?!” Aragorn’s cry was drowned out as the breeze picked up and became a steady gust of unforgiving wind.
Picking himself up off the ground, Estel grabbed up his cloak and wrapped it round his neck, then jumping upon his horse’s back, he kicked the creature in the sides; anger and mourning driving him ever farther from his home.
As he felt his horse’s swift beat beneath him, Aragorn felt tears trickle from his eyes and onto the beasts sleek body and combed mane.
As if in understanding of his master’s sorrow, the horse slowed to a careful trot and nickered.
“No, go, Harfin! I can manage, my friend. Please, I wish to be near my home no longer!”
A howl behind them made both man and beast start, Harfin reared in fear and Aragorn clung to his horse’s black main as if it was his life.
“Noro lim, Harfin! Our lives are hanging on your swift step!”
Hearing the words, Harfin leapt forward, his hooves beating the dust hard; behind them three howls of celebration rose up to meet the moon.
The sun light splayed upon his hair through the open window and beyond the tree.
He yawned and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, he could hardly remember what he had come down here to do, why had he gotten up and walked to the hall of fire?
The flames roared and leapt at the new pieces of wood that an elf had just put in. They devoured it and seemed to tell a story.
“Legolas!”
The name made his head snap and he looked back to the entry which was being held open by two wooden doorstops.
He knew the voice easily after the months and months it had been. He turned his face to the fair Lady Arwen as she ran in, a frantic look in her deep blue eyes.
“Oh, Legolas!” The prince stretched his arms out lazily in question and waited. “He’s gone!”
‘These Noldor elves think I know everything.’ he thought to himself as he patted the seat next to him, she sat down and put her head in her silky hands, sobbing hard.
Putting his own hand upon Arwen’s shoulder, he rubbed soothingly as he sat up and tried to calm her irregular breathing.
“Estel’s gone!” she breathed into her hands, her eyes straying to the door as Thranduil walked in. “Father and him had a fight.”
“Gone, what do you mean gone? Why? What fight?” the elven king ran forward and bent next to her. Her grabbed her hands and brushed them gently. “Where?”
“How am I supposed to answer these questions?” she flicked her hands away and hid them beneath the folds in her dress so no one could touch her. “He was not in his room, his bed had not even been slept in. He took no extra clothes or food. All that was missing was his sword. But he took that on our ride last night.”
Standing, the elven prince was about to leave, determination written all over his smooth features.
A strong grip on his shoulder made him turn, he saw his father’s blue eyes searching him. “Where are you going?”
Legolas rolled his shoulders until Thranduil’s hands had loosened. Beginning to walk again, he was called to a halt as the elven king’s voice broke and he looked at his child with mournful eyes.
“Why, Legolas? Estel has abandoned you. He has not invited you to be near him in months, he has spent more time with her-” he motioned to the still crying elven maiden behind him. “He cares not about you anymore, he left you alone, my son. He left you to tend to himself, that is the human way.” The king shook his head.
He had thought Aragorn was different, but in the end, he knew Estel to be the same as any other love-sick selfish man. ‘They think they can have any friend they want and then abandon them, all for the sake of a girl!’
Turning, a flare in his deep, sky blue gaze, the prince placed a hand on Thranduil’s strong shoulders. The elf king saw no hatred, no pain in his child’s eyes that day. For the first time in months, he saw the true Legolas. But he did more than see, he heard.
“B-because, H-he I-s m-my friend.” The elf prince’s voice was dry and he stuttered often from lack of speaking for so long. But for the first time, for a long while, the elven king watched as his boy did the thing he had been wanting for so very long!
Legolas watched as the crystal tears fell from the other’s proud eyes. This was all the convincing that Thranduil needed. To hear his son say it, that was enough for him! Oh, Eru! That was enough.
The elf king hugged the prince for a few more long minutes, his eyes still closed with joy, tears squeezing through the gap and falling down his pale cheeks. They glistened as they dropped from his chin to the marble floor.
As the blonde prince pulled away, he whispered something that Thranduil throughout his immortal life would never forget.
“I-I-I Love Y..you, A-ada.”
Restraining everything in him from pulling Legolas into another long hug. The king pushed his son away with a playful grin as he let the tears fall.
“Go get him, Legolas! Bring Estel home!”
~_~
Aragorn sat, his lithe form a lonely sight against the moon that shone high upon in the sky.
The stars shimmered and the winds whispered words that seemed to ache in the man’s tired ears, carefully he leaned over and closed his sightless eyes as he felt the weariness in his body released from the worry and fear.
Fear that his father hated him, fear that Legolas felt he was no longer a friend. Fear that his brothers thought him a snake and Arwen, fear that she though him to be a helpless blind man.
Finally his thoughts drifted away to far off memories and into near-by sleep.
“I love you, Arwen.”
The she-elf’s wavy, raven colored hair shifted in the breeze and she leaned forward, kissing him upon the cheek and playing with pieces of his hair around her pale fingers.
“I love you.” Quietly, she layed her soft head down upon his lap and let his fingers brush through her own silky hair.
As they sat darkness came, and the thunder roared, Aragorn began to shiver and he realized that he was no longer stroking his beloved’s hair. In fact, he was stroking nothing! She was gone!
He felt a rumble beneath him and his body shook all the more, he heard the echo of one loud and angry voice.
“You are weak!”
“You are helpless!”
“You will never be able to care for her!”
Shooting up, his breathing coming out hard, Aragorn felt around, feeling for some reality to grab onto.
“I am sorry, sorry,” he kept whispering. “I am sorry.” He felt only the patches of grass as they swayed in the wind and brushed against his arms.
Estel let his panting breaths die away and brought a hand up to his sweaty hair, he wiped the perspiration away and sighed.
He felt no light upon his skin, nor the smiling rays of the sun. A mist of cool rain washed upon him making the problems of his troubled life fade for one instant, but alas, they came back and threw his mind into an awful haze.
“I belong nowhere,” he whispered, wiping the dripping water from his smooth face.
He had grown accustomed to shaving when living in Imladris and his skin had retained the feeling that an elf might have, but now as he had no such utensils, and plus the fact that he did not care, a hard, bristling beard was beginning to form.
“What is my path, Eru?!” Aragorn’s cry was drowned out as the breeze picked up and became a steady gust of unforgiving wind.
Picking himself up off the ground, Estel grabbed up his cloak and wrapped it round his neck, then jumping upon his horse’s back, he kicked the creature in the sides; anger and mourning driving him ever farther from his home.
As he felt his horse’s swift beat beneath him, Aragorn felt tears trickle from his eyes and onto the beasts sleek body and combed mane.
As if in understanding of his master’s sorrow, the horse slowed to a careful trot and nickered.
“No, go, Harfin! I can manage, my friend. Please, I wish to be near my home no longer!”
A howl behind them made both man and beast start, Harfin reared in fear and Aragorn clung to his horse’s black main as if it was his life.
“Noro lim, Harfin! Our lives are hanging on your swift step!”
Hearing the words, Harfin leapt forward, his hooves beating the dust hard; behind them three howls of celebration rose up to meet the moon.
