Disclaimer: I own nigh the boys, nor the scenery.. naught do I own - everything. In other words: Don't Sue Just 'Cause It Turned You On.
Summary: AU - What if a just-coming-to-age Aragorn, as part of his service to the rangers, was sent to Rohan to learn the finer arts of horseback riding? What if Tharanduil revokes Legolas's immortality in a brash moment? Will be A/L slash a fair bit later on. Might up the rating. Maybe.
Notes: 'blah' is blah spoken in Elvish - "blah" is blah spoken in Common - |blah| is blah spoken in High Rohan. I don't go for translations, or the actual words - /I/ don't like it when I have to look something up every five minutes, so I won't suffer ya'll it, either.
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Prologue
Legolas Greenleaf passed through the gates of Rivendell, elven face starker than even it's perfect paleness; his white mare floated along with no guidance from her rider, following a route she alone knew, before stopping at the entrance to Elrond's palace.
Apparently in a daze - shocked - the bloodied, ripped, haggard prince dismounted automatically, turning and walking up the broad staircase. Elves stopped and stared as he passed, but he was oblivious - blue eyes were vacant, as he strode past the guards...
...and right into Elrond.
The half-elf caught Legolas as he fell, worry creasing his brow. 'Legolas!' he shouted. 'What has come of you, prince of Mirkwood?'
The young elf stared blankly at him, before his brow creased. 'Thranduil.. Mirkwood.. attacked..' was all he managed before passing out.
Elrond stared down at him in horror - elves had a resilience from within, and he knew that Legolas was no weakling; what caused him trama enough to faint dead away?
The only person left in the prince's entourage stepped up. A hardy, female warrior, she looked shaken herself; however, she managed to kneel to Elrond. 'Sir... Thranduil set a trap for Legolas. My prince had to leave; Thranduil beat him viciously, for no reason at all. Elrond.. His own bodyguards,' her voice broke. 'Sir... I do not think that Prince Legolas is safe in Mirkwood.' Her voice grew somber; 'The King thinks he is dead.' Eerie gold eyes shone upwards; 'And I think it is better that way.'
Summary: AU - What if a just-coming-to-age Aragorn, as part of his service to the rangers, was sent to Rohan to learn the finer arts of horseback riding? What if Tharanduil revokes Legolas's immortality in a brash moment? Will be A/L slash a fair bit later on. Might up the rating. Maybe.
Notes: 'blah' is blah spoken in Elvish - "blah" is blah spoken in Common - |blah| is blah spoken in High Rohan. I don't go for translations, or the actual words - /I/ don't like it when I have to look something up every five minutes, so I won't suffer ya'll it, either.
---
Prologue
Legolas Greenleaf passed through the gates of Rivendell, elven face starker than even it's perfect paleness; his white mare floated along with no guidance from her rider, following a route she alone knew, before stopping at the entrance to Elrond's palace.
Apparently in a daze - shocked - the bloodied, ripped, haggard prince dismounted automatically, turning and walking up the broad staircase. Elves stopped and stared as he passed, but he was oblivious - blue eyes were vacant, as he strode past the guards...
...and right into Elrond.
The half-elf caught Legolas as he fell, worry creasing his brow. 'Legolas!' he shouted. 'What has come of you, prince of Mirkwood?'
The young elf stared blankly at him, before his brow creased. 'Thranduil.. Mirkwood.. attacked..' was all he managed before passing out.
Elrond stared down at him in horror - elves had a resilience from within, and he knew that Legolas was no weakling; what caused him trama enough to faint dead away?
The only person left in the prince's entourage stepped up. A hardy, female warrior, she looked shaken herself; however, she managed to kneel to Elrond. 'Sir... Thranduil set a trap for Legolas. My prince had to leave; Thranduil beat him viciously, for no reason at all. Elrond.. His own bodyguards,' her voice broke. 'Sir... I do not think that Prince Legolas is safe in Mirkwood.' Her voice grew somber; 'The King thinks he is dead.' Eerie gold eyes shone upwards; 'And I think it is better that way.'