When Dreams Aren't What They Should Be.
A/N: Okay, so, after *refusing* to post this story til it was finished, I've finally given in. It's been a WoP since….well, for ages, and knowing how slow I am at updating, I hadn't wanted to post it til it was quite a bit in. I don't really know what to call it, as I'm still not 100% sure what I wanna do with it, but the beginning was in my head and wouldn't get out. The result? Yet another fic the The ONE and ONLY (aka, ME!).
I need suggestions in what to put in here (as in the fic, not the author's note. I have enough crap to share already, thank you very much), so please, please e-mail me at:
heven_vs_hell69@hotmail.com -OR- insaneasylumescapee@yahoo.co.uk .
Either that or you can just put it in a review.
So, as you can tell, I like talking crap, so here's some more of it…if you don't totally love Legolas and Aragorn, then SHAME ON YOU!!!!! I suggest you go and sort your twisted heads out (Oooo! That sounds like fun!…sorry, sorry, vague moment of insanity…). This fic is mainly Legolas for now, but will eventually be Aragorn too. Depending what sort of reaction/request/whateva I get from it, I'll decide where to take it (either way, someone's gonna end up upset and/or disgusted by what I eventually decide to do with it).
As I final statement, I would like to add that I am crazy (sorry…that's the first thing that came into my head).
DISCLAIMER: I woke up one day and realised that not only were Aragorn and Leggy not mine, but that none of the whole LOTR *legacy* was mine either. Blast. There goes my plan for world domination (did I happen to mention that I was crazy? And anyway, that was the phrase of the day so there – crazee, ok?).
Anyway, since I own nothing except for my lovely new character Kaïra, who features in this fic, I would like to beg my fave author IceFire (hello!!!), who has somehow managed to gain possession of –not only- Aragorn and Legolas ::drool:: , but of Elladan and Elrohir (among others), to let me borrow A and L (can't be bothered to write their names out all over again) every now and then. Please? Meanie. :~P
Okay…so enough rambling, and on with the story!
BTW, I think I might have overdone it with the adjectives….sorry!
Legolas' thoughts are in //thought//. Italics and stuff are in *italics* in case they don't come out properly again…
~*~*~*The ONE and ONLY*~*~*~
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Chapter 1: Restless.
Legolas stood proudly on a rock, shielding his squinting eyes from the scorching mid-day sun.
He had returned to his domain in the Mirkwood, and had been welcomed back by all the peoples, but somehow, he did not feel at home.
The Fellowship had broken, Frodo, Bilbo and Gandalf had departed over the sea, and Aragorn had finally reclaimed his throne in Gondor.
But Legolas, what had *he* done? He felt idle and useless. Mirkwood had become ever calmer since the banishing of the Dark Lord, and although the dangers still existed, they were often wary of the Elven stronghold.
His palms itched for the travels, the battles, the *energy* of the previous journeys, and he longed to leave his peaceful home yet again, in search of a new adventure.
He felt ashamed at having such a great desire to leave his home, his people.
"What do I do?!" he shouted into the air.
His voice echoed loudly, and the wind itself seemed to shrug in response, also unsettled by the unusual calm.
Legolas paced, backwards, forwards; backwards, forwards, and he fiddled with his bow.
"Nothing to do!" he muttered to himself, "No wars to fight, no dwarves to defend, no enemies to conquer. Just a bunch of peace. Boring bloody peace!"
He sat down and dug both his hands into the golden hair that fell down over his shoulders.
His mind was racing with thoughts of battles and achievements, both true and imagined. He closed his soft, grey eyes, and tried to clear his mind, to banish the thoughts that seemed to torment him so, and to achieve some sort of calmness within himself.
When he had reached this, he stood up again, and having deciphered his thoughts, resolution was now spreading over his face, and his thoughts were running like lightening, fast and clear.
He had everything he needed, did he not? A few loaves of lambas, a skin full of water; he had his bow and aquiver full of arrows, and most importantly, he had himself.
As his thoughts smoothly fell into place, the solution seemed to become more and more logical, as did his determination towards the matter.
Almost without realising it, he mounted his horse, and urged her forwards. He rode hurriedly, but not hastily. He was eager to be gone, but not so eager that he had reached desperation. He did not seem aware of what he passed, only of the steadily thinning trees, and the mare's clear, even breathing as she trotted along. He was in a daze, like one that has been hypnotised, and is not quite all there, so at first, when he heard his name being called, he did not register it.
"Legolas!" it said again, and he turned, slowing his horse to a stop.
A cheery elf maid sat before him, on the back of a sunny golden horse that contrasted against his own pearly white mare.
"Where are you going?" she asked, studying him softly.
"Nowhere, Kaïra, return to your home."
She watched him for a few moments, and he looked away from her reproachful gaze.
"You do not fool me, Legolas, you plan to leave us, don't you." It wasn't a question.
"What if I did?" he patted the horse's head, and wound his fingers through her silvery mane.
"You cannot, you *must* not. You have already been away for far too long, it is not right for you to depart again so soon after your return."
"I assure you that I do not intend on being away for long…
// Why do you lie, Legolas?// he asked himself, // You do not wish to return at all…but maybe…maybe if she believes that you do, she will….she will leave me in peace for a while…//
…you must tell the King, my father, if he should ask, that I will return soon. Assure him that there is no need for any worry."
"You don't fool me, Legolas," she repeated, eyeing him suspiciously, "but I will tell him none the less…have confidence that he will receive the message."
Legolas nodded, "Good."
He half smiled, and she smiled in return, her strangely tanned features brightening like magic.
"Be careful, Legolas, the forest can't always be there to look after you." And with that, she dug her heels into the horse, and rode away like lightening.
Legolas frowned slightly, until he heard the fading sound of her steed's hooves finally disappear.
The trees began to thin out, until they were so sparse that he could clearly see the open land outside the forest. He smiled expectantly to himself, feeling the tension begin to seep away from his body.
After a short break, he rode onwards, keeping to the edge of the forest, but riding South this time. He had a vague idea in his head of riding to Gondor, to see his friend, Aragorn there.
How he missed his friends, all of them. Sam, Merry, Pippin…even Borormir.
// You've always missed Boromir. // he told himself, // You just hadn't wanted to believe it, not after what he had done, not only to Frodo, but to me…and to Aragorn.//
Legolas had always known that Boromir was weak, that he could be easily influenced, but that in truth, even after that terrible deed…in truth, he had been a good man. His eyes teared slightly, remembering Boromir, his strength, and his courage when he had fallen, the pain in his eyes as he had confessed his deed to Aragorn.
Legolas had seen, and heard everything, although both Aragorn and Boromir had been unaware of this fact, and he had never spoken of it to anyone, even to the Heir of Isildur himself.
He sighed, and tried to think of happier times, becoming lost in a hazy dream where everything about his life had been so perfect, so blissfully…perfect.
It was midnight of that same day when Legolas finally arrived at the Southern reaches of Mirkwood; having passed the now deserted tower of Dol Guldur. He had ridden continuously all that day, with only a few short breaks to allow his mare to rest.
He dismounted and set camp, his joints slightly stiff, he had looked for some comfortable roots to rest in, but had then decided against it. He nimbly climbed a tree, and sat among its upper branches, wrapped in the silky warmth of his 'Lorien cloak.
The garment was precious to him, not because of its rich quality, but because of what it symbolised.
Again, Legolas drifted into silent thoughts of his friends, and slowly fell into a shallow sleep. Dreams came easily to him, and he willingly accepted them, as they brought images of the Fellowship as it had been.
::::: "You're so silent and secretive, elf, no wonder your kind are so mistrusted by us dwarves."
Legolas laughed, and glanced down at his stout companion, "What would you that I say then Son of Gloin?"
The hobbits ran up, "Sing us a song!" Legolas turned to se Merry and Pippin shouting out to him excitedly.
Gimli rolled his eyes and groaned. "Oh no! The crazy elf will bore us with his songs and lore of forests and trees again."
"Oh, dwarf, do I bore you?" the elf cooed teasingly, and the dwarf simply screwed up his face in reply.
He smiled, and looked up to see Aragorn and Boromir approaching them.
Aragorn was smiling kindly, as he always seemed to do, and Boromir was wearing an expression that was somewhere between amusement and frustration.
"Oh go on, Legolas, sing! Sing!" the hobbits insisted, "Tell us about your home and the elves and…."
The dwarf interrupted, "Yes, Legolas, *please* just tell us *one more time* about just how green and tall the trees are."
Suddenly the angle of his dream shifted, as they always
seem to do in dreams, and Legolas found himself back in
Mirkwood, sat on the same branch, with the stars twinkling
overhead. A sound caught his attention, and he grabbed his trusted
bow. He aimed towards the ground, where voices could be heard.
"That crazy elf's run off to gods know where." A familiar voice grumbled.
"Be sure not to touch anything or he'll shoot yer head off."
Legolas jumped down into the clearing, and aimed his arrow straight at the small group of dwarves he found in front of him.
"Legolas!" one of them cried, "What kind of greeting do you call this? I've always said he was a crazy elf." He added to his companions.
A short, shadowy figure stepped forward, and Legolas lowered his bow as he saw the stranger's face.
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A/N: Dum dum duuuuuuum! (That was my sad attempt at doing those funny drum things you get at the end of cliffies and stuff). Okay, as I *think* I might have mentioned earlier, advice on where to take this will be *really* appreciated. Any sort of review is highly welcome, even flames, if anyone can be bothered to write me one. Erm…I already have thank-yous, which go to (drum-roll, please) Mia for all the help with erm…stuff (I dunno, do I?!) and for the continuous encouragement on the matter. 'Ta very much to people like all my wonderful friends who have restrained themselves from giving me funny looks when I ask them things like "How long would it take to get form one end of Mirkwood to the other?" before realising that they haven't even bothered to read the books yet. Stupid people….but then, look who's talking…no comment.
Also, many thanks to anyone who actually bothered to read this far, or anyone who simply scrolled down and read enough of this last bit to hear me thanking you (Argh! Rambling again!)…now stop reading and get reviewing!!!! (please? – good manners never hurt anyone did they?).
*~*~*The ONE and ONLY*~*~*~
A/N: Okay, so, after *refusing* to post this story til it was finished, I've finally given in. It's been a WoP since….well, for ages, and knowing how slow I am at updating, I hadn't wanted to post it til it was quite a bit in. I don't really know what to call it, as I'm still not 100% sure what I wanna do with it, but the beginning was in my head and wouldn't get out. The result? Yet another fic the The ONE and ONLY (aka, ME!).
I need suggestions in what to put in here (as in the fic, not the author's note. I have enough crap to share already, thank you very much), so please, please e-mail me at:
heven_vs_hell69@hotmail.com -OR- insaneasylumescapee@yahoo.co.uk .
Either that or you can just put it in a review.
So, as you can tell, I like talking crap, so here's some more of it…if you don't totally love Legolas and Aragorn, then SHAME ON YOU!!!!! I suggest you go and sort your twisted heads out (Oooo! That sounds like fun!…sorry, sorry, vague moment of insanity…). This fic is mainly Legolas for now, but will eventually be Aragorn too. Depending what sort of reaction/request/whateva I get from it, I'll decide where to take it (either way, someone's gonna end up upset and/or disgusted by what I eventually decide to do with it).
As I final statement, I would like to add that I am crazy (sorry…that's the first thing that came into my head).
DISCLAIMER: I woke up one day and realised that not only were Aragorn and Leggy not mine, but that none of the whole LOTR *legacy* was mine either. Blast. There goes my plan for world domination (did I happen to mention that I was crazy? And anyway, that was the phrase of the day so there – crazee, ok?).
Anyway, since I own nothing except for my lovely new character Kaïra, who features in this fic, I would like to beg my fave author IceFire (hello!!!), who has somehow managed to gain possession of –not only- Aragorn and Legolas ::drool:: , but of Elladan and Elrohir (among others), to let me borrow A and L (can't be bothered to write their names out all over again) every now and then. Please? Meanie. :~P
Okay…so enough rambling, and on with the story!
BTW, I think I might have overdone it with the adjectives….sorry!
Legolas' thoughts are in //thought//. Italics and stuff are in *italics* in case they don't come out properly again…
~*~*~*The ONE and ONLY*~*~*~
_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_- _
Chapter 1: Restless.
Legolas stood proudly on a rock, shielding his squinting eyes from the scorching mid-day sun.
He had returned to his domain in the Mirkwood, and had been welcomed back by all the peoples, but somehow, he did not feel at home.
The Fellowship had broken, Frodo, Bilbo and Gandalf had departed over the sea, and Aragorn had finally reclaimed his throne in Gondor.
But Legolas, what had *he* done? He felt idle and useless. Mirkwood had become ever calmer since the banishing of the Dark Lord, and although the dangers still existed, they were often wary of the Elven stronghold.
His palms itched for the travels, the battles, the *energy* of the previous journeys, and he longed to leave his peaceful home yet again, in search of a new adventure.
He felt ashamed at having such a great desire to leave his home, his people.
"What do I do?!" he shouted into the air.
His voice echoed loudly, and the wind itself seemed to shrug in response, also unsettled by the unusual calm.
Legolas paced, backwards, forwards; backwards, forwards, and he fiddled with his bow.
"Nothing to do!" he muttered to himself, "No wars to fight, no dwarves to defend, no enemies to conquer. Just a bunch of peace. Boring bloody peace!"
He sat down and dug both his hands into the golden hair that fell down over his shoulders.
His mind was racing with thoughts of battles and achievements, both true and imagined. He closed his soft, grey eyes, and tried to clear his mind, to banish the thoughts that seemed to torment him so, and to achieve some sort of calmness within himself.
When he had reached this, he stood up again, and having deciphered his thoughts, resolution was now spreading over his face, and his thoughts were running like lightening, fast and clear.
He had everything he needed, did he not? A few loaves of lambas, a skin full of water; he had his bow and aquiver full of arrows, and most importantly, he had himself.
As his thoughts smoothly fell into place, the solution seemed to become more and more logical, as did his determination towards the matter.
Almost without realising it, he mounted his horse, and urged her forwards. He rode hurriedly, but not hastily. He was eager to be gone, but not so eager that he had reached desperation. He did not seem aware of what he passed, only of the steadily thinning trees, and the mare's clear, even breathing as she trotted along. He was in a daze, like one that has been hypnotised, and is not quite all there, so at first, when he heard his name being called, he did not register it.
"Legolas!" it said again, and he turned, slowing his horse to a stop.
A cheery elf maid sat before him, on the back of a sunny golden horse that contrasted against his own pearly white mare.
"Where are you going?" she asked, studying him softly.
"Nowhere, Kaïra, return to your home."
She watched him for a few moments, and he looked away from her reproachful gaze.
"You do not fool me, Legolas, you plan to leave us, don't you." It wasn't a question.
"What if I did?" he patted the horse's head, and wound his fingers through her silvery mane.
"You cannot, you *must* not. You have already been away for far too long, it is not right for you to depart again so soon after your return."
"I assure you that I do not intend on being away for long…
// Why do you lie, Legolas?// he asked himself, // You do not wish to return at all…but maybe…maybe if she believes that you do, she will….she will leave me in peace for a while…//
…you must tell the King, my father, if he should ask, that I will return soon. Assure him that there is no need for any worry."
"You don't fool me, Legolas," she repeated, eyeing him suspiciously, "but I will tell him none the less…have confidence that he will receive the message."
Legolas nodded, "Good."
He half smiled, and she smiled in return, her strangely tanned features brightening like magic.
"Be careful, Legolas, the forest can't always be there to look after you." And with that, she dug her heels into the horse, and rode away like lightening.
Legolas frowned slightly, until he heard the fading sound of her steed's hooves finally disappear.
The trees began to thin out, until they were so sparse that he could clearly see the open land outside the forest. He smiled expectantly to himself, feeling the tension begin to seep away from his body.
After a short break, he rode onwards, keeping to the edge of the forest, but riding South this time. He had a vague idea in his head of riding to Gondor, to see his friend, Aragorn there.
How he missed his friends, all of them. Sam, Merry, Pippin…even Borormir.
// You've always missed Boromir. // he told himself, // You just hadn't wanted to believe it, not after what he had done, not only to Frodo, but to me…and to Aragorn.//
Legolas had always known that Boromir was weak, that he could be easily influenced, but that in truth, even after that terrible deed…in truth, he had been a good man. His eyes teared slightly, remembering Boromir, his strength, and his courage when he had fallen, the pain in his eyes as he had confessed his deed to Aragorn.
Legolas had seen, and heard everything, although both Aragorn and Boromir had been unaware of this fact, and he had never spoken of it to anyone, even to the Heir of Isildur himself.
He sighed, and tried to think of happier times, becoming lost in a hazy dream where everything about his life had been so perfect, so blissfully…perfect.
It was midnight of that same day when Legolas finally arrived at the Southern reaches of Mirkwood; having passed the now deserted tower of Dol Guldur. He had ridden continuously all that day, with only a few short breaks to allow his mare to rest.
He dismounted and set camp, his joints slightly stiff, he had looked for some comfortable roots to rest in, but had then decided against it. He nimbly climbed a tree, and sat among its upper branches, wrapped in the silky warmth of his 'Lorien cloak.
The garment was precious to him, not because of its rich quality, but because of what it symbolised.
Again, Legolas drifted into silent thoughts of his friends, and slowly fell into a shallow sleep. Dreams came easily to him, and he willingly accepted them, as they brought images of the Fellowship as it had been.
::::: "You're so silent and secretive, elf, no wonder your kind are so mistrusted by us dwarves."
Legolas laughed, and glanced down at his stout companion, "What would you that I say then Son of Gloin?"
The hobbits ran up, "Sing us a song!" Legolas turned to se Merry and Pippin shouting out to him excitedly.
Gimli rolled his eyes and groaned. "Oh no! The crazy elf will bore us with his songs and lore of forests and trees again."
"Oh, dwarf, do I bore you?" the elf cooed teasingly, and the dwarf simply screwed up his face in reply.
He smiled, and looked up to see Aragorn and Boromir approaching them.
Aragorn was smiling kindly, as he always seemed to do, and Boromir was wearing an expression that was somewhere between amusement and frustration.
"Oh go on, Legolas, sing! Sing!" the hobbits insisted, "Tell us about your home and the elves and…."
The dwarf interrupted, "Yes, Legolas, *please* just tell us *one more time* about just how green and tall the trees are."
Suddenly the angle of his dream shifted, as they always
seem to do in dreams, and Legolas found himself back in
Mirkwood, sat on the same branch, with the stars twinkling
overhead. A sound caught his attention, and he grabbed his trusted
bow. He aimed towards the ground, where voices could be heard.
"That crazy elf's run off to gods know where." A familiar voice grumbled.
"Be sure not to touch anything or he'll shoot yer head off."
Legolas jumped down into the clearing, and aimed his arrow straight at the small group of dwarves he found in front of him.
"Legolas!" one of them cried, "What kind of greeting do you call this? I've always said he was a crazy elf." He added to his companions.
A short, shadowy figure stepped forward, and Legolas lowered his bow as he saw the stranger's face.
_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_- _
A/N: Dum dum duuuuuuum! (That was my sad attempt at doing those funny drum things you get at the end of cliffies and stuff). Okay, as I *think* I might have mentioned earlier, advice on where to take this will be *really* appreciated. Any sort of review is highly welcome, even flames, if anyone can be bothered to write me one. Erm…I already have thank-yous, which go to (drum-roll, please) Mia for all the help with erm…stuff (I dunno, do I?!) and for the continuous encouragement on the matter. 'Ta very much to people like all my wonderful friends who have restrained themselves from giving me funny looks when I ask them things like "How long would it take to get form one end of Mirkwood to the other?" before realising that they haven't even bothered to read the books yet. Stupid people….but then, look who's talking…no comment.
Also, many thanks to anyone who actually bothered to read this far, or anyone who simply scrolled down and read enough of this last bit to hear me thanking you (Argh! Rambling again!)…now stop reading and get reviewing!!!! (please? – good manners never hurt anyone did they?).
*~*~*The ONE and ONLY*~*~*~