The Shame of Mirkwood
by Elfish Arrow
Chapter I
Young Isil was always different from the other Elfish children, and his parents were starting to worry. He was the youngest of their children, and it was of the utmost importance to his father that he be normal. King Thranduil's son wasn't normal, though, not by his standards, which made a mockery of all his ideas, all his laws, and could put the Kingdom of Mirkwood to shame.
Ever since Thranduil had ascended to the throne, he had begun to make changes in Mirkwood society. He didn't believe that any elf should be dramatically different from his neighbor, that by keeping to strict rules, they were far superior than any other elf in Middle Earth, and so, he started to enforce his own laws. First and foremost, no elf under his reign was to be sexually involved with the same gender; secondly, he banned all half-elves and other races from his kingdom. All those who remained were to stay to themselves most of the time, unless dining in the hall. Thranduil hoped that by keeping his subjects ordered and disciplined, they would soon out-shine even the Golden Wood with their crafts and skills, for he assigned each elf to a certain task. Strangely, there was very little protest when he first came to power, the kingdom just accepted that this was the way it was, and they best just go along with it, for the greater good.
Now that King Thranduil's own son was so obviously different, so unnatural, he had to come up with a plan. The child was young; perhaps he had wandered into a sparing match and was fatally wounded. Whatever the lie Thranduil told, it worked. The kingdom believed that the young Prince Isil was dead... except he wasn't. Though as cold-hearted the king was, he could not bring himself to kill his own son. Instead, he sent him quietly one night with the prince's nurse to the door of a servant Elf who had just recently lost her own child. She accepted Isil and the terms that King had ordered: he was never to know of his parentage.
As the years past, Isil grew up never knowing his real parents. As far as he was concerned, he was Legolas, a servant-elf that never quite fit in. He couldn't understand it, his mother always marveled and told him that there had never been a more beautiful elf in all of Mirkwood, and every once in a while, when strangers would visit, they'd tell him so too. No one in Mirkwood seemed to think so, though. They ignored him when he greeted them, and pretended not to notice when he'd introduce himself to them. Eventually, Legolas stopped questioning the odd behaviour and just accepted what was yelled at him every time he passed. He was ugly, unnatural, and sick.
Once, though, someone had made him feel different. And that is why they hate me... He thought to himself one rainy morning. He was sitting at the window of his room, watching the water droplets slowly twist and wind their way to the bottom of the glass. He had felt love before, only... with another male. Lomion. Legolas had worked in the kitchens of the great hall before King Thranduil refused to even let him socialize with others, he was to be kept a secret from outsiders - no one like him could have possibly been born in Mirkwood. Before, however, he prepared meals and desserts for great balls and banquets, and there was just one time when he dared look out into the hall...
~
He wished he wasn't so different, evil. All the elves in the hall were dancing, and singing, story telling, and playing small instruments. If only he hadn't been born poor, if only he was like everyone else, than maybe he could be out there too, dancing and laughing. He sighed and turned back into the kitchen.
"Hello, there," came a musical voice from the hall.
Legolas held his breath for a moment, Is he talking to me..? He turned around and found himself staring at a tall, very well off, and very handsome elf. His long hair was done in simple braids, and brushed behind his pointed ears. He was wearing the garments of a hunter, though he somehow made them look nobler than they should.
"Yes, you, young one," His voice was not demanding, jesting, yes. Legolas decided he loved that voice.
'Um.. hi." Legolas silently cursed himself, he was not used to social situations, and certainly wanted to make a good impression on this elf.
Lomion smiled softly at the servant-elf, he had been watching him through the kitchen doors all night and had finally worked up the courage to approach him, "I thought I should let you know, the bread out here is nearly stale."
Legolas's eyes grew wide and he immediately backed up, "Yes, of course," he mumbled quickly, "I'll get you some more..." He disappeared back through the door.
Lomion smiled again and chased after him, finally cornering Legolas at the cupboards, "I was just kidding," he purred, as he ran a hand along the soft skin of Legolas's cheek, "you really must learn to take a joke."
Legolas's eyes closed reflexively upon feeling Lomion's hand on his cheek, "I- I'm sorry..." He didn't know what to think. All his life, no one had ever so much as looked at him, and here he was in the kitchens with a handsome hunter stroking his cheek and moving ever closer.
"Don't be sorry..." Lomion trailed off, realizing he had no idea of the name that belonged to the beautiful elf he was pursuing.
"Legolas," the other breathed quietly, "and you are?"
Lomion bent down and gently pressed his lips against Legolas's, kissing him softly, but not expecting much a response, not yet, anyway, "Lomion," he whispered against the younger elf's lips.
~
And that was how it started, Lomion and him. Lomion was what Thranduil called 'unnatural' as well, he just hid it better. He, of course, knew about Legolas liking other males, but he had never seen him before that night. They were both lonely, and thought that they could fill the void with each other, but Lomion grew tired of the game before Legolas. Legolas had come to depend on his lover for everything he had lacked, growing up shunned from his community, but Lomion had never intended to keep Legolas around, he just needed someone to use who would never dream of telling anyone else.
None of that mattered, however, one summer morning when their secret was loosed. The two had spent the night in Legolas's sparsely furnished room, laughing and making love. Legolas had awoken to the sound of arguing, it was Lomion and another hunter elf. Legolas had seen her around the hall before, but never knew her name.
She had come for Legolas; his mother had volunteered him to go and work for her family, so that he could still make money, and avoid the public. When she arrived though, she saw them together, and had confronted Lomion. They were arguing because she told him it was her duty to report what she saw to the King, and he was trying to convince her not to.
As it turned out, the strange elf had told what she saw, and Lomion had profusely denied any responsibility, saying that Legolas forced him, and that if his friend hadn't come along, he didn't know what would have happened. No one really believed him, of course, but it was easier to accept his words, and deal with one 'unnatural elf' than two.
Legolas sighed and pressed his forehead against the glass, remembering all that had happened him the past two years. The rain was coming down harder now, and it seemed fitting to him - he didn't deserve anything else, why should he deserve sunshine? Wiping his eyes with his sleeve, he stood gracefully and made his way over to the bed, maybe if he was lucky, he might not wake up in the morning.
TBC…
