The Innocence of an Assassin

by venenatus.venustas

**WARNING: SLASH** Bit of an AU - Legolas, brought up to be an emotionless assassin, has difficulty understanding his new feelings when he meets Estel, who doesn't realise the depth of Legolas' innocence and naivety.

Title: The Innocence of an Assassin

Pairing: Legolas/Aragorn

Rating: R

**WARNING**: THIS STORY CONTAINS SLASH THEMES – WHICH MEANS HOMOSEXUAL RELATIONSHIPS BETWEEN TWO MALE CHARACTERS. YOU ARE ADVISED TO LEAVE IF YOU HAVE A PROBLEM WITH THIS.

Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story do not belong to me, but to Lord of the Rings by J.R.R Tolkien. This is all FICTION; none of it is true. No profit was made from this story. I bear no responsibility for anything you may claim from this story, you have been warned.

LAST WARNING. SLASH. HOMOSEXUALITY. LEAVE IF YOU DON'T LIKE.

Plagiarism is a crime. But I'm sure you know that already.

***

Legolas hummed to himself as he shot the Orc, discordant shrieks ringing in his sensitive ears. He hummed as his silver daggers flashed in the moonlight and cut open the necks of two more of those vile creatures, and there was a slight smile on his face as they finished – they, the warriors of Mirkwood, led by their prince, Legolas Greenleaf – standing amongst a sea of dead bodies as they rotted and stank in the setting sun.

Turning, Legolas motioned to his lieutenant, who hastened to his side. "If we depart now," said Legolas, "we could return before midnight. How are my soldiers faring?"

"We are well, my Lord, with only one loss on our side. His friends are wrapping him up for the journey as we speak."

Legolas bowed his head, arm held across his chest, making a fist over his heart; the elven gesture of honour. "My heart weeps for our loss." There was a brief moment of silence as his lieutenant bowed his head, too, before lifting it up again in search of instructions on what to do next.

Legolas took a look around him and saw his soldiers standing tall, but some were weary, leaning against trees to support their heavy legs. "We shall set off now," he decided. "But we shall not make haste and move at a slow pace. I, like you, am eager to leave this battlefield, and I sense that many have been weakened from the fight. Are we in need of sleep?"

"No, my Lord."

"Then we shall set off in five minutes."

By the time the returned to Mirkwood, late next morning, they were greeted by a great celebration of their triumph – having defeated one of the last few groups of Orcs that remained drifting around Middle-earth. Legolas went to his father almost immediately after arrival, as was custom of their princes after long journeys, and found him in the hall entertaining guests from Rivendell. He had seen Elrohir and Elladan before, but they were accompanied by a strange, dirty human that took the name of Estel, and Legolas knew at once that this must be Elrond's famous foster son.

He stared at the human curiously before retreating to his rooms to prepare for the feast and dance tonight in honour of their return. The human stayed in his thoughts during the few hours it took him to rest, bathe, and rest some more before a servant came to call him to dinner.

Just his luck, he was seated next to Estel for dinner, and for the first fifteen minutes or so, neither made any move to conversation. Legolas was never one to start and, apparently, neither was Estel. It was Thranduil, who sat on Legolas' right that spoke first. "Estel," he said. "You are known in Rivendell as one who is quick with the sword. I daresay you will find no match to Andruil in tomorrow's competition."

"Nay," said Estel, glancing at Legolas quickly. "Prince Legolas is famed throughout many lands of Middle-earth as a great warrior, and I look forward to sparring with him tomorrow."

At these words, Legolas looked up, a slight tilt to his lips, before resuming his dinner.

Thranduil didn't look the least bit bothered that Legolas could possibly be acting rude; after all, he was always like this. "And you, son?" he asked, turning his dark gaze to the prince.

"I, too, look forward to the match tomorrow," he said. "With Estel," he added, nodding towards the Man on his left. He heard a slight quickening of breath before a slight sigh, and Legolas continued eating his dinner as if nothing had happened.

The dancing after dinner was getting along splendidly, the tiny lanterns of light strung around the treetops, the cove lit by the silver moonlight. Legolas stood off to the side, in the shadows, and hummed along with the song as he replayed the images of the battle in his mind. The sound of his blades sinking into Orc-flesh, the colour of the blood as it gushed out, the squelch of the metal against soft tissue and hard bone.

He was startled out of his reverie by a rustle to his right and he turned sharply to see Estel's silhouette make his way towards him.

"Prince Legolas."

"Lord Estel."

"Why are you not dancing, fair Prince?"

"My Lord – that is the same question I could ask of you."

Estel avoided his frank stare and his blurry human eyes scanned the area quickly. "There are many beautiful elfin ladies. Do none of them catch your fancy, O Prince?"

"And what of yours?"

"They are no match to the beauty that holds my heart."

"Mm. I have heard of the Evenstar's wondrous beauty from many folk, and have yet to see her. Are you two to be engaged?"

"Evenstar?" Estel looked confused. "Arwen? No, we are not engaged, and neither shall we be in the future." He paused and cast a sly look at Legolas. "The one that caught my eye has beauty that far outshines that of the Evening Star."

Legolas was confused. He had not heard of any elf-lady that had yet been praised of beauty surpassing that of the Evenstar's. "Oh?" was the only answer he could think of.

"Aye." Another sneaky glance. "Will you be staying at Mirkwood for long?"

"'Tis my home," said Legolas, surprised.

"Yes, but I have heard of the great many battles you fight for your people, and of your constant absence from the lands on your wandering journeys."

"I will be staying longer this time," said Legolas. "Perhaps another hundred years, if there are no more enemies to be fought, before I venture out for another journey. I have missed the woods of Mirkwood."

"Indeed," breathed Estel, moving closer, so that he stood not two feet away.

Legolas felt a bit more puzzled than he already was. Was he speaking too softly? No other elf, or indeed, human, had found themselves hard of hearing at his soft, whispered voice. And here was Estel, moving towards him with his head tilted to the side, a look of pure concentration on his face. Perhaps he should speak up. "And what of you, Estel? How long are you to stay in Mirkwood for this visit?"

Estel blinked at him, and Legolas frowned at himself again, confusion growing with each second. "Not quite sure as of yet. But I hope for it to be a long time, for the beauty I speak of resides here."

That was it. Legolas didn't like being in the dark. "And who is the fair lady that you speak of?"

Estel laughed softly, and gave him a look that Legolas felt very strangely about. "'Tis not a lady, but an elf lord, O Prince."

"And which elf lord would it be?" Legolas pressed, tilting his own head so that strands of blond silk hair fell unknowingly fell in tantalising waves over his smooth jaw and strong shoulders.

Estel breathed in rather loudly, and blinked, staring at the hair before his eyes flickered back to meet Legolas' own. "Can you not tell even now, Prince Legolas?"

Legolas felt like pouting, but didn't. "No," he replied shortly.

And Estel moved all the closer, until he was within arm's reach of Legolas, and his lips lifted into a gentle smile as he parted them to speak a name, but a sudden shout turned both their heads and they saw the twins, Elladan and Elrohir, waving and grinning at the pair of them.

"Estel!" they called. "Come! We have something to show you!"

Estel sighed, muttering to himself in soft tones that Legolas heard quite clearly. "And what mischief is it this time, my dear brothers, which will only give cause to trouble?"

"Ai!" Elrohir – or was it Elladan? – called. "We can hear you!"

Turning back to Legolas, Estel nodded his head, his blue gaze penetrating. "I must take leave now, fair Prince, for my brothers are beckoning. It has been a pleasure conversing with you."

"And I with you," Legolas returned, and watched as the Man turned and strode over to his brothers, the three of them hurrying off, giggles floating back towards him.

It was late at night, and the partygoers had long dispersed, foreign guests returning to their suites in the palace, guests of Mirkwood going back to their respective homes. Legolas, however, could not sleep, not even amidst the silence that surrounded him. He wandered in the gardens of the palace, fingertips trailing along the tips of leaves and petals as he walked slowly, silently, humming quietly to himself as he thought how beautiful the leaves and flowers would look if the blood of Orcs were splashed upon them, warm, still throbbing with life as they blossomed into patterned –

There were footsteps coming closer, and Legolas knew at once who it was. "Estel," he said, as the human entered into the little alcove he was in.

"Legolas."

He turned. "Are you not in want of sleep, Estel?"

"Perhaps there is something much more desirable than sleep at this moment."

Legolas nodded in understanding. "Aye, that there would be. The gardens are –"

"And pray," Estel cut in. "What is the Prince of Mirkwood doing at this late hour? Should not you, too, be resting, if not sleeping, after the great trek from the Orc battle? All the other soldiers have long since retired to their quarters."

"I do not tire easily."

"Aye; that you do not."

"And I enjoy walking through the gardens at this hour, when everything is so much more peaceful. It calms oneself after a long fight against enemies, and indeed, even after a normal day of work or play."

Estel fingered a flower blossom that he was standing by, eyes fixed on Legolas. "Mm," he said, and moved closer. "We have yet to finish our conversation from the dance."

"Oh. Yes."

"I haven't finished telling you, either, the name of the lord whose beauty far outshines that of the Evenstar and, undoubtedly, any other elf in existence."

"Aye, that was when our conversation was stalled by your brothers."

"And does the prince still want to know?" Estel asked, slinking closer, movements sleek and liquid.

"My interest remains piqued."

Estel was practically breathing on him now, and Legolas felt a strange feeling in his stomach and chest. "They call him," he said, slowly, each syllable floating over Legolas, caressing him. "Legolas Greenleaf, Prince of Mirkwood."

Legolas stepped back, eyes wide. This was not what he had been expecting at all. But then, he didn't really know what to think. "Surely you jest," he said, continuing to move backwards as Estel continued to advance on him. Eventually, however, there was no escape as he backed himself into a tall hedge, with Estel inches away from him.

"I am completely serious, fair Prince," he said huskily, and Legolas felt a new sensation blooming on his skin at the sound. He put both hands on Estel's chest as he moved even closer, managing to keep from a full-on body press. His upper arms were held tightly by Estel's rougher, larger human hands, and they felt comfortingly hot against his night-chilled skin, even through the thin fabric of his clothing.

Estel leaned in, and Legolas closed his eyes, heart hammering away in his chest and the strange feeling in his stomach increasing by tenfold. A hundredfold. He felt vaguely apprehensive. "Please, Estel," he whispered. "Don't."

Estel paused, a breath away from Legolas, and his lowered lashes lifted from their fixation on his lips. "Must I?"

Legolas' lips were parted and his breaths were quickened, though they were silent still, as he tore his gaze from Estel's. "Yes." He felt as if he would wake the entire palace with the beating of his heart any second.

Pushing himself away from Legolas, Estel turned to walk away quickly, but did not leave before pausing to cast another look at Legolas, who stood, completely still, watching. "Good night, Prince Legolas," he said, and left.

The two of them did not look at or speak to each other the next day, until after the competition, when the first words were uttered by Legolas. "You lost on purpose!" His voice was a whisper no longer, and echoed in the empty bathing room.

Estel was refusing to look at him. "Did not. I lost in a fair match to you."

"Do not insult me further. That was no fair match!"

"It was," Estel replied stubbornly, head still bowed, fiddling with his belt.

"Are you trying to deny the fact?" Legolas almost placed his hands on his hips, but kept his arms at his sides.

Estel spun around. "Yes." He looked deep into Legolas' eyes, causing him to almost falter. Almost. He was still too heated from today's competition. He held the trophy in one hand, and now threw it at Estel, hard, who dodged quickly to avoid it. It hit the tiled wall and fell to the floor, rolling off and disappearing somewhere. "I didn't lose to you on purpose," he said, voice soft, soothing.

"That is a lie if I ever heard one. I am not one for swords, and Andruil remains the undefeated champion of Middle-earth."

"Until today."

"Today was a hoax you conjured up, for some unimaginable reason that only you know."

"Legolas – do not be angry with me any longer. 'Tis no use arguing further; the competition is over and has declared you its winner."

"How can you expect me to accept what is not rightfully mine?"

"And how can you expect me to strike you in a manner that will cause you great pain? I told you last night, Prince Legolas, that you are the one that holds my heart. How can you expect me to act towards you in such a fashion?"

"And do you think that losing purposely to me would not hurt me as well? Am I not worthy of being your opponent? Am I so not worthy of meeting Andruil in a combat that you would have to relinquish the match in my favour?"

"I told you, Legolas!" Estel said, voice rising as he strode over to Legolas and the two stood, toe to toe, nose to nose. "I couldn't bring myself to do it! The injury could have been very serious, and could have taken a long time to heal. How could I possibly –" He stopped, swallowing thickly.

Legolas was just staring at him, hurt apparent in his eyes, but no other emotion on his unblemished features.

"How could I possibly –" Estel tried again, almost whispering the words, but still did not finish the sentence.

"How could you possibly what?" Legolas stopped shouting, and spoke the words in his usual quiet murmur.

"How could I possibly hurt someone I love so dearly?"

"Well you have."

Shock was blatant in the Man's features, and Legolas felt a bit uncomfortable, but it was true, and it needed saying. "You have disgraced me," he continued. "You have disgraced me in front of my father, my family, my servants, your brothers, my guests and all of Mirkwood. And most of all, you disgraced me in front of my soldiers. How am I to lead them now that they know a human man had to deliberately lose before their commander could win? How do you expect them to obey me now?" Legolas made to leave, but Estel reached out and grabbed his elbow.

"Legolas, please," he begged. "I did not mean for you to be hurt and I had no intention of causing so much distress either. I wasn't thinking then – I just knew I couldn't strike and you caught me in the hesitation. It was my hesitation that caused you to win; I was not going to give you the match intentionally. Please. Please believe me."

"Why should I?" Legolas was glaring at him out of the corner of his eye. "How do I know that you are not lying?"

"Because as an elf, you should know that kisses never lie," blurted out Estel, reaching out wildly and pulled him close, catching him off-guard, and touched their lips together chastely.

Legolas blinked as Estel moved away, the grip on his elbow less confining but still there, more of a warm weight than a restraint. "Fine," he said.

Estel smiled, but it dimmed when his eyes searched Legolas', looking for something that Legolas did not know. "Legolas –" he began, but did not finish. "Do you…feel – do you care – for me? At all?"

Legolas' heart was thundering away again, and there was a new sort of tingle in his lower stomach as the odd sensation from last night returned. "Feel?"

He cocked his head to the side. Feel. Hm. How does one care for another?

Estel's eyes were widening, and he let go of Legolas, taking a few steps back, almost stumbling in his sudden haste. "Legolas, if you –"

"Feel?" he asked again. How does one feel?

"I shouldn't have – I should never have kissed you just now…"

"Estel," he said, which shut the human up immediately. "You did nothing wrong."

"I…I shouldn't have…I…"

"Shh. I am not offended."

"…I…But…" Estel made a sort of strangled sound and slumped over even as he stood in front of Legolas, whose eyes widened in slight alarm. He had not known any elf to act in such manner before. But then Estel was a human, and Legolas had never stayed long in the company of Men before.

"Really. I know you meant no harm." He wondered if he should be blushing at the memory of the kiss, and the frankness that he had felt when those lips were pressed against his.

"Is there…someone else?" Estel asked, refusing to look him in the eye.

"Someone else?" Legolas mused. What someone else? For what? "Around, you mean?" Someone else around spying on their conversation from the door as he had heard ten minutes ago?

"Yes."

"Someone else," he repeated. "Why, yes, there actually is. He's by the entrance."

Estel's breath hitched, and his eyes shone suddenly, going glassy. "Who is he?"

"Haldir."

"Guardian of Lorien." Estel groped his way towards the bench, and sat down heavily into it.

"Yes," said Legolas. Was it that bad that Haldir was listening onto their conversation? It wasn't as if they had been quiet – half the elves around the bathing house must have heard them by now, at least at first. Haldir was probably just worried that they might fight, and stood close to stop them if necessary.

"I suppose it's only…" Estel sighed, deeply, and Legolas wondered at it for a moment. "Haldir is very handsome," he said, and Legolas puzzled even more.

"Yes."

"Does he treat you well?"

"Yes." Their closeness as friends was only natural. They had trained together in his father's army before he had moved away to be the Lady Galadriel's Guardian and Legolas had worked his way up to being commander.

Estel sighed again, leaning his elbow on his knee and his forehead in his palm. "I see."

"I believe I should go. There is to be another feast tonight, and I need to prepare, as do you," said Legolas, after a moment of silence.

Estel remained still, and Legolas turned. "I'll see you later," he said, and left.

Haldir was indeed at the entrance as Legolas thought, and the two of them walked towards the palace, a comfortable silence hanging between them. "Legolas," Haldir finally said, before they separated to go to their respective rooms. "Do you think perhaps the Man thinks wrongly of our connection?"

"What do you mean?"

"I suspect he thinks of us as lovers, Legolas."

Legolas arched an eyebrow. "And why would that be?"

"Just from the way he spoke afterwards. Perhaps it's because of the wording in both your speeches? I'm not sure."

The expression in Legolas' eyes was amused, but his face betrayed no emotion as per usual. "Perhaps. I doubt it. I asked him if he meant by 'someone around'. There is no way he could make such a mistake."

"You are right. Unless he was deaf, which he probably is, seeing as he is human."

"Yes," said Legolas. "He probably is."

"You will rectify him tonight, will you not?"

"Why are you so concerned that I do?"

"It's just that. I don't want him to go round telling –"

"I understand," said Legolas. "I will speak with him tonight."

To Be Continued…I think. Probably. Yes.