A/N: sorry it's been such a long time... it's been how long? Two months? The teachers have decided that 'oh, she's giving them a ton of homework, why don't I follow her example?'. Gah. But here it is anyway. The third one will be up once I write the fourth... heh.
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Legolas sat in the Dining Hall, twiddling his thumbs as he politely conversed with the elves of the Greenwood. They elf-maidens in particular seemed to be ecstatic when they entered the hall and saw him sitting next to the King's seat at the long table. They rushed up to him and batting their eyes and cooing adoringly.
"Good Morning, milady." Legolas said robotically with a brief nod, trying to suppress his exasperation. 'Where in Middle Earth is Ada?' he thought as yet another elf-maiden scurried away from him to join her friend at a bench, giggling happily. He had grown accustomed to a completely different way of breakfasting during his years of lordship over the elves of Ithilen. Here, the servants served the Prince and the King only when they were both present together; there, the prince could just simply sit himself in any random chair and take a roll out of any random basket that had been placed on the any of the tables.
"Good Morning, Prince Legolas! Such a –"
"That is enough Ailin, you may converse with the prince later." The dark haired elf pouted her lip at the king and swept away, her long hair missing the prince's face by a mere fraction of a centimeter.
"Thank you ada, I do not know if I could have coped with any more maidens trying to win my hand." Legolas muttered as his father sat down with great gusto. "Life certainly has not changed around here one bit."
"I know you hate the attention you are receiving from the maidens, Legolas Thranduilion, but you really must begin thinking about we–"
"Father, how many times must I tell you? I do not wish to wed. At least not yet."
"But you are a member of the royal family. It would be such a shame if a handsome elf prince like yourself did not–"
"They do not love me, ada, they love my title."
"I understand, my son, but you will be able to find love in one of th–"
"Your Highness!" A shout erupted from the doorway out to the lawns, causing all the fair heads scattered around the hall to whip around to face the noise. 'Thank you...'
"Your highnesses! King Thranduil, Prince Legolas." A golden haired scout in forest green traveling attire bobbed his head frantically at the two elves respectively.
"What is it, Túrante?" King Thranduil asked the panting elf that stood in front of them at the very end of a trail of muddy footprints.
"Yrch!" the scout replied dramatically.
Thranduil snorted and leaned back in his chairs, tapping his fingertips together, an amused expression upon his face. "No really, Túrante. What is it?"
"Your highness, what I have just told you is true. Our camp has been attacked by orcs. I have here with me the poisoned orc arrow that felled Erucallo."
Thranduil looked flabbergasted. "Orcs? The creatures have not been sighted in this part of the land for many a year. Are you sure of this?"
Something snapped in Legolas' mind. "Ada,"
Thranduil's gaze was upon him in a split second. "yes, Legolas?"
"When I riding here, I saw a very clear orc print embedded in the dirt path."
Thranduil's healthy hue disappeared into a deathly white as he took the . "B-but... what did they look like?"
"Dark. Hideous. Black hair twisted into thick braids. They bore the G rune." replied Túrante.
Whispers broke out among the elves that were close enough to the King and the scout to overhear the conversation.
Legolas' eyes widened in shock and let out an involuntary gasp. "The G rune?"
Túrante turned himself towards the prince and nodded slowly, his face clouded over with confusion. "Yes, Prince Legolas, the G rune. Of the script of Angerthas." Túrante produced a form of something wrapped in dirty cloth from what seemed to be nowhere. He set it down on the table and stood back, evidently waiting for some form of clarification of what had caused Legolas' sudden distress. Legolas gingerly raised his right hand and pressed the first fold of cloth between his thumb and index fingers and peeled it back. His other hand automatically raised itself onto the table and did the same to the other side. Sure enough, in the middle of the cloth was a bloodstained breastplate. Upon it, painted smack in the middle, was indeed a shining white G rune.
"Mithrandir..." Legolas knew of only one being who's sign was the angerthas rune standing for the letter G.
"What was that?" Thranduil pried his eyes away from the arrow that he was turning over in his fingers and directed them back towards his son while Túrante looked on, his face screwed up in frustration and curiosity.
"G... Gandalf... Mithrandir?" Legolas muttered slowly, as if he were trying to solve a particularly hard arithmetic problem.
"Don't be foolish, dear boy, Mithrandir passed across the sea many a year ago."
Legolas stood from the table and walked out of the Hall, his eyes glazed over, barely concentrating on where his feet were leading him. His stomach gave out a low borborygmus as if trying to call him back to the table, but he continued to walk slowly across the Entrance Hall, his shoes gently padding the white stone floor.
He found himself sitting at his desk a few minutes later, a piece of paper under the spread out fingers of his left hand, a pen enclosed within his right hand, hovering just millimeters away from the S of his signature. He furrowed his eyebrows and looked down at the letter he had just written.
Aragorn,
I am currently in the Greenwood, and am in dire need of your assistance. Orcs have killed our scouts while camping in the forest, their armor bearing a symbol that only one person has ever used. If you and Gimli could ride as fast as you could here, I would be most gratified and indebted.
Please pass my regards on to Arwen and the unborn child,
Prince Legolas Greenleaf ---A/N: hope you enjoyed it even though it can't compare to some of the stories I've been reading recently. I realize that Gandalf is more likely to use Olórin or something else as it symbolizes him in a more powerful form.
Her: a mary sue... such an insult you hypo.
Lomiothiel: thanks mellon nin, I appreciate the review and I'm terribly
sorry for not updating sooner
Wilwarin: thanks for the correction. I'll keep Laiqualasse in mind for
next few stories... if I ever find the time to write this one. I'll jot a note
down to reupload the first chapter.
Deana: even I'm not too sure what danger he'll get into. Lol!
[soccer freak]: thanks, Audrey. I think.
