A/N: this is my first ff story- it's actually out under another name (layla146) but either my computer or ff.net is being stupid, and I can no longer log in under it. So here we are again, republished with some changes, and a new chapter (#8 for those keeping track) along for the ride. Let's just hope I don't have to do this every time I want to add a chapter, hmm? Anyway, on with the show…
Oh yeah- Disclaimer: you've read this kind of thing before, so do I really need to say who owns what and who and when? I didn't think so. (and by the by- the name Radames comes from the musical Aida, in case there's some copyright law there…)
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CHAPTER 1: A TREE GROWS IN RIVENDELL
The first thing Aragorn heard
when he awoke was laughter. A lot of it. Wondering who
was in his bedroom and what they were laughing at, he turned his head from side
to side. Instead of lying in a comfortable bed, he found he was on his back… on
the ground… in the forest. The laughter was coming from his brothers, Elladan
and Elrohir. He sat up, still clueless, when the memories came back to him. He
glared at the tree in front of him, and then back at the twins.
"I fell, didn't I?"
he growled moodily. The twins were laughing too hard to reply. Aragorn turned
to look behind him for an answer. "Arwen?"
She stepped out of the shade,
doing her best to keep a straight face. "It appears the tree was a
formidable foe, Estel." Which sent the twins into more
gales of laughter. Aragorn was about to reply when the sounds of hoof
beats filled the clearing. An Elf entered on horseback, obviously having
traveled nonstop for several days.
"I must deliver a
message to Lord Elrond," the Elf gasped out. The twins quickly jumped onto
their own horses and led the messenger to their father's house. Aragorn turned
to Arwen, curious, but went still at the tense look on her face.
"What is it?" he
asked, suddenly worried.
"That messenger was from
Mirkwood," she met his dark eyes with her own, mirroring his nervous
feeling. "From the Royal House."
It dawned on him; Arwen and
the twins were close friends with the princes of Mirkwood, especially the
younger of the two. Aragorn himself was also friends with Legolas, but only
knew the older prince, Radames, by reputation. Radames had been sent out on a
quest by his father before Aragorn had even been born, and had yet to return.
Still, he knew the brothers to be kind and true Elves, and he knew his own
brothers and Arwen loved them dearly. He grabbed Arwen's hand and the two of
them rushed back to Elrond's house.
There they met Elladan and
Elrohir, and waited with the twins outside their father's chambers for any sort
of news. Once the messenger had been sent away for food and rest, Elrond came
to his children, both true and fostered. He smiled at them.
"Legolas is fine,"
he assured them. He felt the tenseness leave the air. "It was he who sent
the message. It seems his father has been feeling a bit… ill, as of late, and the Prince wishes for my council and help."
They all accepted the
explanation. King Thranduil was frequently "ill" or, more accurately,
ill-tempered and on occasion it was required of Elrond to tranquilize-
sometimes literally- the king in person. Thranduil's temper was infamous
throughout Middle Earth. No one new that better than Elrond and the king's son.
Elrond decided to set out for
Mirkwood immediately, and after much pleading and bribery, allowed the four to
accompany him. This, he though as
they left the boundaries of Rivendell, is
bound to be quite an interesting visit.
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It was Legolas who met them at the gates
in Mirkwood. After a cheery welcome to his friends and Lord Elrond, he beckoned
them into his home and led them down a series of hallways.
"How is your father,
Legolas?" Elrohir asked. Something in Legolas' eyes flashed quickly, but
Elrond was the only one to notice.
"He is… as he always
his," the Prince replied.
"Any
word from your brother?" Elrohir's twin continued.
Legolas shook his head.
"No, we have had no word of Radames since he left Galadriel's home. He
said he was headed towards…" he hesitated. "…Rohan, I think he said.
Though I do not understand why he would travel there." Legolas smiled
slightly, almost sad, but with a quick shake of his head, he was himself again.
It was then that Elladan noticed the bruise on his cheekbone.
"Might I suggest to
whoever gave you this bruise that the shading is a bit too dark to go with the
color of your eyes?" he teased.
Legolas gave him a
good-natured glare. "I would gladly let you talk to the Warg who did this,
but I already killed it. You'll have to find someone else to discuss color
schemes with, Lady Elladan."
"Have you had much
trouble with Wargs, then?" Elrond asked as the others laughed.
"We did, briefly,
several days ago. But we handled it quickly enough," he answered, stopping
in front of their rooms. "I'm afraid I have some business to attend to,
but here are your rooms and you are free to go about the grounds as you please.
I'll see you at the evening meal."
"And
Thranduil?" Elrond asked.
Legolas hesitated again.
"I'm sure you can attend to him after evening meal, or tomorrow at the
latest."
"Legolas," Elrond
said sternly. "Does even know we are here?"
The Prince glanced down at his feet.
"By now, I'm sure he does. But if you're asking if I told him I had sent
you a message, the answer is no."
"Is that wise?"
Elrohir asked gently.
Legolas gave his sad smile
again. "There is no other way." With a courteous nod, he disappeared
down another hallway. The group from Rivendell stared after him.
"What do you make of
that?" Elladan said.
Elrohir shrugged. "You
know Legolas. He's probably acting this way on purpose to mess with us. Then
again, he can be as moody as Estel sometimes."
The twins dashed into their
rooms, laughing as Aragorn chased them. Elrond nodded to his daughter before
entering his own chambers. After Arwen was settled into her room, she left the
others in search of Legolas. She knew her brothers and Aragorn would look for
their friends among the Mirkwood Elves, and her father would most likely stay
and rest in his room. However she wanted to know what was bothering Legolas, for
unlike her brothers, she sensed that this was not something to joke lightly
about.
She was passing by the King's
private library when she heard angry voices inside, one of which she recognized
as belonging to Legolas. She glanced around and seated herself on a bench a
comfortable distance away from the library, one that still allowed her to hear
what was going on. This way it would not appear that she was eavesdropping, even though I am, she chided herself
silently.
The voices broke back through
her thoughts as she heard them switch to Meladil Rhyme. From her studies, she
knew that Meladil Rhyme was used only by the royalty of Mirkwood when a topic
of discussion was of the utmost important or private. Elrond had a book of
Meladil in his own library, so Arwen was familiar enough with it to understand
what was being said. She also found that if she positioned herself just so, she
could see through the slightly open door into the room. She watched and
listened as Thranduil spoke to his son.
"Don't come on so cocksure
boy.
You can't escape your genes.
There's
no point in feeling purer, boy,
Your background intervenes."
The King strode forward and
grabbed Legolas' arm, hard enough to bruise. Arwen winced at the tightness of
the grip, but Legolas barely flinched. Thranduil continued, his words sounding
harsh and angry.
"Now listen good and listen straight-
You're
not the master of your fate.
To this you must be reconciled.
You'll always be your
father's child.
At times acclaimed, at times reviled,
You'll wind up doing just as I have done.
Like Father, like son."
To the surprise of Arwen, and more obviously to the surprise of Thranduil,
Legolas roughly shoved his father's hand away and took a step closer. He too
began to speak in tongue.
"Don't assume your vices
Get handed down the line,
That a parent's blood suffices
To condemn the child's design.
I've
done wrong, I can't deny,
But atleast I know that I
Shouldn't blame that on my stock.
Well, this may come as quite a shock
But I'm no chip off any block.
I wouldn't wish
those words on any one.
Like father, like Son."
Legolas turned to leave, but
Thranduil stepped in front of him and nearly dragged him back into the room.
"Son you're nervous, take my
hand.
All is settled, all is planned.
You've
got the world at your command.
I don't think you understand."
Legolas shook his head in
disgust.
"I
appreciate too well
The squalor at which you excel.
It isn't
very hard to tell-
Evil's a distinctive smell."
There was a sudden silence,
except for Legolas' harsh breathing. Arwen waited a few moments before she fled
back to her room. She needed to tell her father what had just happened. Arwen
thought that she had witnessed the end of the conversation, but she was wrong.
They were just getting started.
Legolas stood, almost calmly,
as he waited for a response from his father. He knew his words, however true,
had crossed a line and he would probably pay for them.
He was right.
With an almost silent roar,
Thranduil came at his son, shoving him violently up against the library's door,
slamming it shut at the impact. Legolas felt his head snap back and connect
sharply with the solid mass behind him. But he did not cry out. It had taken
him many beatings to learn, but he had taught himself not to make a sound. He would
not give his father the satisfaction, or allow others to discover what was
going on.
Thranduil hissed at him,
"So you decide to bring Elrond again? To save me?
Or just to save yourself?"
Legolas tried to clear his
aching head. "You are not well," he stated firmly but softly. He then
felt a sharp pain in his side and abdomen. He wondered oddly if it had been a
kick or a punch this time, wondered if he had torn his tunic, and if he had, how he would mend it before anyone saw. Another pain
across his eyes as Thranduil backhanded him brought him back to reality.
"And who do you think
you are to decide that I am not well? You are overstepping your bounds, Princeling," he snarled. "Would you like to join
your brother?"
At the mention of Radames,
Legolas' eyes snapped open. In all these years, it had been an unspoken
agreement between father and son, the only bond the two shared, not to talk
about the other Mirkwood Prince. Now, hearing the name of his missing brother,
Legolas could take no more. He tried to struggle out of his father's grasp. He
wanted to run away, run to Radames, run to Elrond, anything
but be here. But he was now so weak that the only thing keeping him standing
was his father's bruising grip on his shoulders.
"Ah, you are defying me
now? Do I have to teach you another lesson in manners?" Thranduil released
from the wall and Legolas sank to his knees. He looked on in resignation as his
father reached into one of the pockets in his robes. He closed his eyes,
bracing himself for what was to come.
END OF CHAPTER 1
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yeah, that's me and my pitiful endings. Don't worry, you'll get used to them (hopefully). And another copyright suit prevention- the Meladil Rhyme is actually "Like Father, Like Son" by Tim Rice and Elton John.
And on a side note- i'm actually not a believer of the evil thranduil fics, i just thought it would be interesting to try and write one because it would be easily provided drama for a first time writer. Seriously, i don't usually write stories, i'm more of a poetry person. If you want to read the fics that I like of Thranduil, check out fics sheraiah like "Of a Father and Son," or anything by adromir (my favorite ff.net author)
Anyway, thanks for reading and for reviewing if you do. See ya in Chapter 2!
Namaarie,
Nell