Disclaimer: No recognizable characters and places are mine.
Okay.I had already posted this, but I worked some changes in, so I'm reposting. Sorry for those of you who had already reviewed!
Chapter One
Aragorn, a ranger of the North, sat beside the camp fire, smoking his pipe comfortably. His companion, Prince Legolas of Mirkwood, sat on the other side, away from the smoke of his friend's pipe.
With a low sigh, Aragorn put out his pipe, and stared at the few stars he could see through the canopy of leaves. It was a quiet, and all together, uneventful night. Sitting in the far reaches of Mirkwood, the elf and ranger had not encountered anything, and Aragorn was bored.
"Estel, if you have nothing to do, why don't you tell me one of your amusing tales?" Legolas started to say, before Aragorn cut him off.
"Me? Tell you a tale? I've told you all of my tales, Legolas. It is time for you to tell me a tale." Aragorn said, reaching out to cuff the elf on the head.
With a smirk, Legolas dodged the blow and sat back up. "Very well, Estel. I'll tell you one of my tales. It is only fair." The elf stated, grinning at his friend. Aragorn sat back, relaxing back to listen to Legolas. The elf rarely told tales, and he was surprised he was able to get the elusive elf to say another.
"What would you like to hear?" Legolas asked, watching the ranger through the fire.
"How about when you met Elladan and Elrohir? I haven't heard that one yet. From either you or my brothers." Aragorn said eagerly. He had always wanted to know how the three elves had met, since they were such good friends.
Legolas's face darkened with memories, and Aragorn wondered what could have happened when the three elves had met to make the memories that bad. Despite his rising curiosity, he was about to suggest a different subject, when the elf spoke.
"I will tell you, since you asked. But, it is a long and dark tale." Legolas said, thinking back through the long years to he was naught but a young elfling, just starting his duties as a prince.
~*~*~*
Standing at his balcony, Prince Legolas Greenleaf looked out over the wide expanse of Mirkwood, watching as elves went about their business. Legolas watched the elves, but his thoughts were somewhere else. A group from Rivendell was going to arrive in a couple of days to see just how bad the recent darkness was, and Legolas did not enjoy the idea.
Legolas hated the idea of meeting the strange elves. It meant politics, and he never could conceal his contempt for politics. Nearing seventy years old, only twelve in a mortal's eyes, Legolas was beginning his responsibility as a prince, and that included attending court, to the young prince's dismay. (AN: If anyone can tell me how to figure out an elf's age so that he would appear twelve, let me know please! I am taking a wild guess.)
The only thing to look forwards to was his weapons training, which he was starting. The training was the only way Legolas could interact with the elflings. Other than that, he was off with his one and only friend, Tylendal. Legolas did not have many to be able to relax around and be him self other than his friend. All of the other elflings would always call him 'my prince' or 'my lord' and be formal about everything. Only Tylendal was considered a friend by the prince, a somber elf of the same age. They had known each other for a long time, and they spent enjoyable with each other. Legolas shook off the thoughts as he rushed to the training grounds; it was nearing the time for his lessons to start.
He was out earlier than the rest of the class, and he waited impatiently for the Weapons Master to arrive. Other elflings began to come out as well, and greeted him. It was well known to the elves of Mirkwood that the prince did not like the formality, but proper respect was still accorded to him. No one bowed or saluted, but he was still called with the royal titles, much to his defeated annoyance. He knew it could not be helped.
Weapons Master Sigurd finally arrived, looking as strict as ever. His hair shone a dark creamy brown in the morning sun. He carried dull blades in his hand, and passing them out, he paired them up. Legolas was paired with a dark haired and stormy eyed elfling, who inclined his head to his prince. Sigurd wanted the basic attack and defense moves to become second nature and completely instinctive; and for now, until those moves became drummed into their blood and bone, they made their strokes to the rhythm of his clapping hands, speeding up as he increased the pace of his clapping. All the time he strode among the six students, watching and correcting. Faster and faster the pace went, and Legolas was pressed hard now.
He was frustrated. He never did well beyond this speed, and he did not know why.
Noticing his grimace of frustration, Sigurd leaned down and whispered to him.
"Relax, do not think. That is the trick." And the elder elf was up and correcting the stance of another elfling.
Relax? Don't think? How was he going to know what counter to use? What in the world did he mean? Thinking hard, suddenly, he realized what the Weapons Master meant.
In between his strokes, he told his muscles to loosen; he stopped trying to anticipate the next move - after all, they were working patterns, not actual fighting. Instead of thinking, he felt; getting into the way his sword swung into his hands, and stopped worrying about when Weapons Master Sigurd was going to increase the pace.
He felt like he was in a waking dream; his arms and legs stopped hurting, and his body accomplished the moves easily.
"All right! Very good, very good!" Sigurd shouted, breaking up the paired elflings. Legolas's legs and arms went back to hurting, and he panted with the rest of them. Giving up his dulled weapon with a sigh of relief, Legolas ran off with the others.
He stopped at the entrance to the palace, watching as the others shrieked with laughter and played their games. The young prince was never invited to join, and he never expected to be. It had bothered him a lot before he had met Tylendal. He would have liked to be asked to join in the games, but it didn't mean so much to him now than it did when he did not have Tylendal.
With a smile, he ran off to find Tylendal. Sometimes his friend could be irritating, especially with the way he spoke, mixing his sentences up the way he did, but Tylendal was as close as a brother to him.
Legolas slipped quietly through the trees that surrounded the palace, choosing a massive goldenoak to climb. In a moment he was up in the branches. Tylendal was around somewhere, and Legolas was bent on finding him before Tylendal realized he was being stalked.
He shaded his eyes and chose a route through the next three giant trees by means of intersecting limbs. He picked his way through the foliage, walking as sure-footedly as if he was upon the ground.
He moved onto a large candle pine and followed the new branch in to the trunk, then back out again to another conifer, this time swinging into the higher branches.
The young elf prince froze as his quarry was suddenly below him. Creeping down the trunk and staying next to it to hide him, Legolas prepared to run forwards in a running tackle.
Just as he leaped forwards, Tylendal turned and gave him a slight smile. The whole week since Legolas had first met him, he had never seen Tylendal give anything larger than that ghost of a smile.
Suddenly wary, Legolas could not stop himself in time and something shot up at ankle height, and though Legolas tried to avoid the tangle cord, it caught his foot and he fell.
Tylendal loomed over him, still with that slight smile on his face, his hazel eyes sparkling with amusement.
"Saw you from the training grounds, I did. Baited you, I have." The other elf said in his peculiar way of speaking. He smiled at his fallen prince, and stepped back out of Legolas's reach.
Legolas scowled, not enjoying his friend's amusement on his behalf. He stood and untangled his foot from the cord, then turned to look at Tylendal, who bowed mockingly and turned to leave.
With a loud "whoof!" the breath was knocked out of him and he was pushed to the ground as Legolas tackled him. They wrestled furiously for a moment, before Legolas halted his next attack and allowed his friend to stand.
"Let's go to the palace, and see if we can't find something to do!" Legolas said, to stall any more attacks and to he make sure Tylendal was not going to continue the fight. Together they left the woods and entered the palace, joking and not paying attention to those around them.
With a snicker, Legolas led his friend to the kitchens, hoping to filch some food before lunch. Tylendal stayed back in the door as Legolas crept up to the cook, making calf eyes at her and begging for a snack. With the appealing, sparkling blue eyes turned on her, the strict cook faltered in her refusal and smiled. It was said among Mirkwood's inhabitants that the young prince could charm anything or anyone if he wanted to, and nothing had done to dispute that. Passing over a couple of sugary pastries that were supposed to be saved for desert, she waved him on with a grin.
With a chuckle at his cleverness, Legolas gave one to Tylendal and the two of them wandered the halls, reaching the library and deciding to go inside. Finishing their pastries, and licking the left over sugar that coated their sticky fingers, they went in and began looking for something interesting to do.
Tylendal leapt lightly upon a high-backed chair and from there he went to the top of the nearest book case. He perched there, reaching for the nearest book below him, and flipped through it.
Legolas grinned at his friend's antics, and ran a finger over the spines of the nearest books. Nothing good, histories and maps.
Tylendal reclined against the wall, legs dangling carelessly, smirking at the contents of the book. With a derisive snort, he replaced the book and leapt lightly to the floor, six feet below him.
"Why wish I to know about Dwarves and their ilk?" He asked Legolas curiously.
"I do not know. It is a book, it is in a library." Legolas said with a shrug. Like all elves, he did not favor dwarves.
"The day sees I an elf and dwarf as friends, that day I shall spend with them, just to see what think they." Tylendal vowed with utmost solemnity.
Legolas snickered, and it was not long before he burst out laughing. He leaned against a wall, holding his sides as he tried to picture an elf and dwarf being friends. It was too much, impossible. No elf and dwarf could stand each others' presence for long, blood would spill after a couple of hours, maybe even minutes. With a last chuckle, he and Tylendal exited the library and went to find something to do.
~*~*~* The next day Legolas went to the training grounds as usual, and they had their practice. When he saw what Weapons Master Sigurd was carrying, Legolas could have jumped for joy. Legolas desperately wanted to learn archery, and the bows and quivers of arrows that Sigurd carried showed what the days lessons was going to be.
Sigurd passed out the bows one by one, adjusting the strings to each elflings' strength. He then passed out five arrows each, and set up a range of targets at different distances.
One at a time, he had the elflings fire an arrow, and then he would correct their stance or their aim, and they would fire another arrow, and he would do the same again. When it came to be Legolas's turn, the young prince had already watched the others and had the stance and something about the aim learned.
Nocking his first arrow, he aimed across the sleek white feathers on the end of the shaft and peered at the nearest target. The rings were easy to see, and the young prince focused on the center ring. He released, and the arrow whistled through the air.
Thwock! His arrow pierced the second ring from the center. His heart leapt in surprised joy. He had hit the target! He had hit the inner rings, unlike the other elflings, who had pierced nothing or the farthest outer ring.
"Very good! Very good, you're a natural at this, my prince." The Weapons Master said, and Legolas preened at the admiration and compliments. He was a natural! The other elflings smiled at their prince, though they felt a hint of jealousy.
Legolas had to attend court that afternoon, and he could not spend any time with Tylendal.
~*~*~*
Fully expecting another boring day the next morning, Legolas decided to appeal to his father to help the cook restock his larders. It took much persuading and begging, but the King finally gave in, allowing Legolas and Tylendal the permission to go fish and for the cook. The week the two had been friends had passed quickly, and they had become great friends.
Grabbing the fishing equipment, Legolas ran to find Tylendal.
"Hey! Tylendal! Wait up!" Legolas's shout rang across the Palace grounds. The other elf turned, and waited for Legolas to come up to him. The young prince carried two long fishing poles, and two baskets.
"Father said we could go fishing at the Lake! Cook's larders are getting low, and they said we could fish and then hunt for them!" Legolas said immediately. The Lake was actually more of a spring that branched off from the major river. It was a good place to fish, and Legolas had been dying for permission to go.
Tylendal gave the rods a dubious glance, but nodded. With a grin, Legolas led him through a well worn path and after about fifteen minutes of searching, they came upon the Lake. It was quiet peaceful, with the tall trees surrounding the calm spring, bushes and lush grass below them. Birds whistled and sang, adding to the tranquility.
"You do know how to fish, don't you?" Legolas asked when he saw the hesitation on Tylendal's part.
Tylendal turned solemn eyes towards him. "No."
"Then it's time for you to learn," Legolas said with a touch of glee. "It's a standard skill, and you should know how to do it. What if you were lost in the wild, somewhere? And you did not know how to fish?"
Legolas started teaching Tylendal how to fish, though he seemed to have no certain skill with it.
By the end of the afternoon, Legolas was quite satisfied. He had a bucketful of fish, all of good size. Tylendal, for his part, had managed to catch two fish. Both sun-perch, but both were large enough to make up for his inability to fish, since they were huge for the normally small fish.
Tylendal cursed under his breath at his rod, his line, the wretched fish, the bait, Legolas, the King for granting them permission, and Legolas again.
"Oh, really, Tylendal, it's so nice to find something you cannot do!" Legolas, making no secret of his mirth, snickered at the pained look on his friend's face.
"Glad I am, that such amusement given you I have," Tylendal said crossly. "Perhaps new skill, have I to learn?"
Legolas couldn't help it; he looked so irritated now that the giggles burst out all over again. With a wounded look, Tylendal walked faster, leaving Legolas laughing helplessly on the trail.
Sorry for the slow start, Elladan and Elrohir will appear soon!
Okay.I had already posted this, but I worked some changes in, so I'm reposting. Sorry for those of you who had already reviewed!
Chapter One
Aragorn, a ranger of the North, sat beside the camp fire, smoking his pipe comfortably. His companion, Prince Legolas of Mirkwood, sat on the other side, away from the smoke of his friend's pipe.
With a low sigh, Aragorn put out his pipe, and stared at the few stars he could see through the canopy of leaves. It was a quiet, and all together, uneventful night. Sitting in the far reaches of Mirkwood, the elf and ranger had not encountered anything, and Aragorn was bored.
"Estel, if you have nothing to do, why don't you tell me one of your amusing tales?" Legolas started to say, before Aragorn cut him off.
"Me? Tell you a tale? I've told you all of my tales, Legolas. It is time for you to tell me a tale." Aragorn said, reaching out to cuff the elf on the head.
With a smirk, Legolas dodged the blow and sat back up. "Very well, Estel. I'll tell you one of my tales. It is only fair." The elf stated, grinning at his friend. Aragorn sat back, relaxing back to listen to Legolas. The elf rarely told tales, and he was surprised he was able to get the elusive elf to say another.
"What would you like to hear?" Legolas asked, watching the ranger through the fire.
"How about when you met Elladan and Elrohir? I haven't heard that one yet. From either you or my brothers." Aragorn said eagerly. He had always wanted to know how the three elves had met, since they were such good friends.
Legolas's face darkened with memories, and Aragorn wondered what could have happened when the three elves had met to make the memories that bad. Despite his rising curiosity, he was about to suggest a different subject, when the elf spoke.
"I will tell you, since you asked. But, it is a long and dark tale." Legolas said, thinking back through the long years to he was naught but a young elfling, just starting his duties as a prince.
~*~*~*
Standing at his balcony, Prince Legolas Greenleaf looked out over the wide expanse of Mirkwood, watching as elves went about their business. Legolas watched the elves, but his thoughts were somewhere else. A group from Rivendell was going to arrive in a couple of days to see just how bad the recent darkness was, and Legolas did not enjoy the idea.
Legolas hated the idea of meeting the strange elves. It meant politics, and he never could conceal his contempt for politics. Nearing seventy years old, only twelve in a mortal's eyes, Legolas was beginning his responsibility as a prince, and that included attending court, to the young prince's dismay. (AN: If anyone can tell me how to figure out an elf's age so that he would appear twelve, let me know please! I am taking a wild guess.)
The only thing to look forwards to was his weapons training, which he was starting. The training was the only way Legolas could interact with the elflings. Other than that, he was off with his one and only friend, Tylendal. Legolas did not have many to be able to relax around and be him self other than his friend. All of the other elflings would always call him 'my prince' or 'my lord' and be formal about everything. Only Tylendal was considered a friend by the prince, a somber elf of the same age. They had known each other for a long time, and they spent enjoyable with each other. Legolas shook off the thoughts as he rushed to the training grounds; it was nearing the time for his lessons to start.
He was out earlier than the rest of the class, and he waited impatiently for the Weapons Master to arrive. Other elflings began to come out as well, and greeted him. It was well known to the elves of Mirkwood that the prince did not like the formality, but proper respect was still accorded to him. No one bowed or saluted, but he was still called with the royal titles, much to his defeated annoyance. He knew it could not be helped.
Weapons Master Sigurd finally arrived, looking as strict as ever. His hair shone a dark creamy brown in the morning sun. He carried dull blades in his hand, and passing them out, he paired them up. Legolas was paired with a dark haired and stormy eyed elfling, who inclined his head to his prince. Sigurd wanted the basic attack and defense moves to become second nature and completely instinctive; and for now, until those moves became drummed into their blood and bone, they made their strokes to the rhythm of his clapping hands, speeding up as he increased the pace of his clapping. All the time he strode among the six students, watching and correcting. Faster and faster the pace went, and Legolas was pressed hard now.
He was frustrated. He never did well beyond this speed, and he did not know why.
Noticing his grimace of frustration, Sigurd leaned down and whispered to him.
"Relax, do not think. That is the trick." And the elder elf was up and correcting the stance of another elfling.
Relax? Don't think? How was he going to know what counter to use? What in the world did he mean? Thinking hard, suddenly, he realized what the Weapons Master meant.
In between his strokes, he told his muscles to loosen; he stopped trying to anticipate the next move - after all, they were working patterns, not actual fighting. Instead of thinking, he felt; getting into the way his sword swung into his hands, and stopped worrying about when Weapons Master Sigurd was going to increase the pace.
He felt like he was in a waking dream; his arms and legs stopped hurting, and his body accomplished the moves easily.
"All right! Very good, very good!" Sigurd shouted, breaking up the paired elflings. Legolas's legs and arms went back to hurting, and he panted with the rest of them. Giving up his dulled weapon with a sigh of relief, Legolas ran off with the others.
He stopped at the entrance to the palace, watching as the others shrieked with laughter and played their games. The young prince was never invited to join, and he never expected to be. It had bothered him a lot before he had met Tylendal. He would have liked to be asked to join in the games, but it didn't mean so much to him now than it did when he did not have Tylendal.
With a smile, he ran off to find Tylendal. Sometimes his friend could be irritating, especially with the way he spoke, mixing his sentences up the way he did, but Tylendal was as close as a brother to him.
Legolas slipped quietly through the trees that surrounded the palace, choosing a massive goldenoak to climb. In a moment he was up in the branches. Tylendal was around somewhere, and Legolas was bent on finding him before Tylendal realized he was being stalked.
He shaded his eyes and chose a route through the next three giant trees by means of intersecting limbs. He picked his way through the foliage, walking as sure-footedly as if he was upon the ground.
He moved onto a large candle pine and followed the new branch in to the trunk, then back out again to another conifer, this time swinging into the higher branches.
The young elf prince froze as his quarry was suddenly below him. Creeping down the trunk and staying next to it to hide him, Legolas prepared to run forwards in a running tackle.
Just as he leaped forwards, Tylendal turned and gave him a slight smile. The whole week since Legolas had first met him, he had never seen Tylendal give anything larger than that ghost of a smile.
Suddenly wary, Legolas could not stop himself in time and something shot up at ankle height, and though Legolas tried to avoid the tangle cord, it caught his foot and he fell.
Tylendal loomed over him, still with that slight smile on his face, his hazel eyes sparkling with amusement.
"Saw you from the training grounds, I did. Baited you, I have." The other elf said in his peculiar way of speaking. He smiled at his fallen prince, and stepped back out of Legolas's reach.
Legolas scowled, not enjoying his friend's amusement on his behalf. He stood and untangled his foot from the cord, then turned to look at Tylendal, who bowed mockingly and turned to leave.
With a loud "whoof!" the breath was knocked out of him and he was pushed to the ground as Legolas tackled him. They wrestled furiously for a moment, before Legolas halted his next attack and allowed his friend to stand.
"Let's go to the palace, and see if we can't find something to do!" Legolas said, to stall any more attacks and to he make sure Tylendal was not going to continue the fight. Together they left the woods and entered the palace, joking and not paying attention to those around them.
With a snicker, Legolas led his friend to the kitchens, hoping to filch some food before lunch. Tylendal stayed back in the door as Legolas crept up to the cook, making calf eyes at her and begging for a snack. With the appealing, sparkling blue eyes turned on her, the strict cook faltered in her refusal and smiled. It was said among Mirkwood's inhabitants that the young prince could charm anything or anyone if he wanted to, and nothing had done to dispute that. Passing over a couple of sugary pastries that were supposed to be saved for desert, she waved him on with a grin.
With a chuckle at his cleverness, Legolas gave one to Tylendal and the two of them wandered the halls, reaching the library and deciding to go inside. Finishing their pastries, and licking the left over sugar that coated their sticky fingers, they went in and began looking for something interesting to do.
Tylendal leapt lightly upon a high-backed chair and from there he went to the top of the nearest book case. He perched there, reaching for the nearest book below him, and flipped through it.
Legolas grinned at his friend's antics, and ran a finger over the spines of the nearest books. Nothing good, histories and maps.
Tylendal reclined against the wall, legs dangling carelessly, smirking at the contents of the book. With a derisive snort, he replaced the book and leapt lightly to the floor, six feet below him.
"Why wish I to know about Dwarves and their ilk?" He asked Legolas curiously.
"I do not know. It is a book, it is in a library." Legolas said with a shrug. Like all elves, he did not favor dwarves.
"The day sees I an elf and dwarf as friends, that day I shall spend with them, just to see what think they." Tylendal vowed with utmost solemnity.
Legolas snickered, and it was not long before he burst out laughing. He leaned against a wall, holding his sides as he tried to picture an elf and dwarf being friends. It was too much, impossible. No elf and dwarf could stand each others' presence for long, blood would spill after a couple of hours, maybe even minutes. With a last chuckle, he and Tylendal exited the library and went to find something to do.
~*~*~* The next day Legolas went to the training grounds as usual, and they had their practice. When he saw what Weapons Master Sigurd was carrying, Legolas could have jumped for joy. Legolas desperately wanted to learn archery, and the bows and quivers of arrows that Sigurd carried showed what the days lessons was going to be.
Sigurd passed out the bows one by one, adjusting the strings to each elflings' strength. He then passed out five arrows each, and set up a range of targets at different distances.
One at a time, he had the elflings fire an arrow, and then he would correct their stance or their aim, and they would fire another arrow, and he would do the same again. When it came to be Legolas's turn, the young prince had already watched the others and had the stance and something about the aim learned.
Nocking his first arrow, he aimed across the sleek white feathers on the end of the shaft and peered at the nearest target. The rings were easy to see, and the young prince focused on the center ring. He released, and the arrow whistled through the air.
Thwock! His arrow pierced the second ring from the center. His heart leapt in surprised joy. He had hit the target! He had hit the inner rings, unlike the other elflings, who had pierced nothing or the farthest outer ring.
"Very good! Very good, you're a natural at this, my prince." The Weapons Master said, and Legolas preened at the admiration and compliments. He was a natural! The other elflings smiled at their prince, though they felt a hint of jealousy.
Legolas had to attend court that afternoon, and he could not spend any time with Tylendal.
~*~*~*
Fully expecting another boring day the next morning, Legolas decided to appeal to his father to help the cook restock his larders. It took much persuading and begging, but the King finally gave in, allowing Legolas and Tylendal the permission to go fish and for the cook. The week the two had been friends had passed quickly, and they had become great friends.
Grabbing the fishing equipment, Legolas ran to find Tylendal.
"Hey! Tylendal! Wait up!" Legolas's shout rang across the Palace grounds. The other elf turned, and waited for Legolas to come up to him. The young prince carried two long fishing poles, and two baskets.
"Father said we could go fishing at the Lake! Cook's larders are getting low, and they said we could fish and then hunt for them!" Legolas said immediately. The Lake was actually more of a spring that branched off from the major river. It was a good place to fish, and Legolas had been dying for permission to go.
Tylendal gave the rods a dubious glance, but nodded. With a grin, Legolas led him through a well worn path and after about fifteen minutes of searching, they came upon the Lake. It was quiet peaceful, with the tall trees surrounding the calm spring, bushes and lush grass below them. Birds whistled and sang, adding to the tranquility.
"You do know how to fish, don't you?" Legolas asked when he saw the hesitation on Tylendal's part.
Tylendal turned solemn eyes towards him. "No."
"Then it's time for you to learn," Legolas said with a touch of glee. "It's a standard skill, and you should know how to do it. What if you were lost in the wild, somewhere? And you did not know how to fish?"
Legolas started teaching Tylendal how to fish, though he seemed to have no certain skill with it.
By the end of the afternoon, Legolas was quite satisfied. He had a bucketful of fish, all of good size. Tylendal, for his part, had managed to catch two fish. Both sun-perch, but both were large enough to make up for his inability to fish, since they were huge for the normally small fish.
Tylendal cursed under his breath at his rod, his line, the wretched fish, the bait, Legolas, the King for granting them permission, and Legolas again.
"Oh, really, Tylendal, it's so nice to find something you cannot do!" Legolas, making no secret of his mirth, snickered at the pained look on his friend's face.
"Glad I am, that such amusement given you I have," Tylendal said crossly. "Perhaps new skill, have I to learn?"
Legolas couldn't help it; he looked so irritated now that the giggles burst out all over again. With a wounded look, Tylendal walked faster, leaving Legolas laughing helplessly on the trail.
Sorry for the slow start, Elladan and Elrohir will appear soon!