What is it with my internet breaking?! I hate technology! ARG!
Yea… I managed to pry myself from Zelda: Twilight Princess to get this chapter out. ::stares longingly at the GameCube:: I'll be back, my precious!
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Chapter 9-Whisper Back to Me
Grumbling in annoyance, a tall, dark haired ellon attempted to scrape up the parchments that had been knocked out of his arms by an overly playful feline. He had been minding his own business, on his way to deliver said parchments to the king, when that creature brought from some foreign land that he didn't know the name of came stalking around the corner and pounced upon him. He had expected his life to be over, waiting for the killing blow, but all he felt was a rough tongue licking at his face. Following that was a stream of giggles from around the same corner, then the appearance of the oldest princess and one elleth that he recognized as the prince's lover, but unsure of her name.
Once the creature had been called off, the ellith struck up a quick conversation with him, but he was too frustrated to actually listen. They soon departed, leaving him to clean up the mess.
A string of curses issued from his lips as he snatched up the last piece and, tucking the stack under his arm, continued on his way up to the king's chambers; he made a mental note to request the removal of that Komu- what ever it was.
Fortunately for him, he did not need to go all the way, for the king had come to him. Unfortunately, he did not seem in the best of moods, judging by the fact that he was grinding his teeth and his face had gone an unnatural shade of red. But still, the ellon had his duties, and so had every intention of fulfilling them.
"My lord," He started cautiously, "I've brought the-"
"Not now, Tandhir." Thranduil growled as he stormed past the elf, causing his maroon-colored robes to billow at his feet. However, Tandhir was adamant: he would deliver this papers, even if it was the last thing he did.
"But Thranduil," He started again, but he was cut off once more.
"I'm busy right now; I need to find Jaimea."
"Oh, you mean Prince Legolas' lady friend?" Tandhir asked, casually glancing over at the ellon. At one, the king snapped to attention and whirled around, staring demandingly at the elf.
"You know where she is?" He asked. Smirking, the other ellon examined his fingernails on his free hand.
"Perhaps."
"I'm in no mood for your games, Tandhir! Now, tell me where she is!" Thranduil bellowed, nearly causing the other to lose his grip on the stack of parchments. Glaring, Tandhir dropped his hand and tilted his chin in the air.
"She and the Crown Princess passed here earlier and told me that they were visiting the gardens before the first frost hit." He answered, but was left to stare blankly where the king once stood; he had left without even uttering a thank you. Tandhir scowled; he had never liked the king too much anyway.
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The golden falcon cackled from her perch on the windowsill, gazing out over the expansive forest. She could hear the elf behind her moving restlessly on the bed, letting out a heavy sigh every thirty seconds. The whole situation had begun to grate on her nerves, ever since it had started near an hour ago. It surprised her that she was able to tolerate it that long.
Another sigh.
Ruffling her feathers and hissing softly, the falcon waddled around and dropped to the floor. A bright light engulfed her small form, then quickly disappeared to reveal a tall woman with fair tresses and smoldering blue eyes.
"Legolas," She started tensely, "If you do not stop mopping around your chambers and go down to her, I believe it will be necessary for me to take matters into my own hands."
The young prince opened his eyes and looked up at the Muru, a small frown marring his lips. Much to her irritation, he sighed again and buried his face in his folded arms, "You do not understand." He muttered.
"I understand very well: you are too much of a coward to fix your mistakes!" She exclaimed.
There was silence for a long moment, in which the woman thought Legolas had simply chosen to ignore her. Growling, she made to shout at him again, but the prince suddenly spoke.
"Why are you suddenly talking to me, Espenshade?" He asked softly, a question that caught her off guard. The Muru stared at him curiously for a moment before he continued, "Before, you would change into a falcon whenever I came near. Now, you come to me, unbidden." Another silence reigned, but was broken by an aggravated huff.
"I believe I had every right to be angry with you, and I still do." She saw him flinch, but she ignored his discomfort, "After what you said to me, I should not ever forgive you." Then, her eyes softened and she allowed her body to relax. Slowly, she moved to him and sat beside him on the bed, placing a hand upon his back, "But you are still my friend, and I do not wish for you to be miserable."
Smiling ruefully, the prince said, "You have the healing arts; is there any way you can mend a broken love?"
"It is not broken, Legolas, only wounded. With proper care, it can prosper again." Espenshade answered.
"It heals too slowly."
"Some wounds are greater than others and require more patience."
Espenshade chuckled when the elf heaved a sigh, falling back onto the bed with his arms spread out above him. Her cerulean eyes gazed up at the ceiling for a moment, before they flashed downwards to meet those of the smiling Muru. He attempted to return it, though soon found himself looking away again. Another moment of comfortable silence ensued before the prince spoke:
"Maybe I'll talk to her." He said, almost to himself.
"That would be a good idea." Espenshade encouraged, her smile widening, "I miss the days when I could fly through the halls without being troubled by lovesick elves."
Legolas glared playfully, saying, "What about my brothers? Surely they were lovesick before either of them were betrothed. And I imagine that at one point you, too, were quite lovesick."
"That is beside the point." She answered, smacking him teasingly on the shoulder, "The point is, you shouldn't be laying around anymore. Instead, you should be making your way down the corridor to seek out Jaimea."
"Oh, but this bed is so comfortable." The ellon protested with a grin, stretching his arms and moaning softly.
"I will drag you to her by the tips of your ears, Legolas, if you do not start marching out that door!"
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For the majority of the trip down to the gardens, there had been silence except for the light padding of footsteps on the carpet, but neither ellith were uncomfortable. When they had emerged into the vast array of fading flowers, still more silence greeted them. The sound of birds was absent, except for the occasional chirping in the distance, and it was empty of all other elves. It seemed that most had opted to retreat into the palace early, retreating from the oncoming winter.
They had come to sit on a stone bench, large enough only for two or three. Jaimea had not uttered a word, content to simply stare at the cracks in the cobblestone pathways, and Lothron's attention had been fixed towards the mountains in the west. An ominous, grey cloud hung about the peaks of the Misty Mountains, and the wind was carrying it swiftly towards the forest. No doubt they would be experiencing the first snowfall in only a few short days.
"What has you so entranced that you would ignore your companion, my sister?" A voice called from the left, quickly gaining the princess's attention. Upon seeing the new occupant of the waning gardens, Lothron smiled.
"I'm just thinking." She offered as the Crown Prince took a seat beside her and placed a kiss on her forehead. He glanced over to the other elleth and inclined his head in greeting, and she repeated his gesture. His dark eyes scanned the garden briefly, landing temporarily on the Komuned rolling around in the last patch of blooming flowers.
"About the storm?" Nórui asked, smiling knowingly, "It has become the most discussed topic in the palace; some believe that it will be the largest we've had in many years."
"And so early in the season, as well." Lothron added.
"Do you think that the others will be alright?" Jaimea asked suddenly, her eyes, too, drifting towards the west, "Iaurtondariel and the Muruien, I mean."
There was thoughtful silence for a moment before Lothron answered, "They should be far away from here by now, Jaimea, probably nearly upon their homeland. You shouldn't worry about them."
The peace of the garden suddenly shifted so that both the prince and princess shifted in discomfort, aware of the abrupt increase in tension. They looked simultaneously towards Jaimea, who had once again averted her eyes to the ground. However, her stiff posture and tight lips revealed her anxiety. Lothron placed a hand on her shoulder.
"Is something wrong?" She asked softly, but Nórui was the one who gave her an answer.
"Legolas is here," He said, nodding his head towards the left, "He just entered. And, most surprisingly, it seems he has convinced Espenshade to speak with him again."
"He has no difficulty going to her to speak of his troubles, but he must send a messenger to talk me." Jaimea muttered stiffly; the two elves frowned, though did not say anything of the matter. Uncomfortable silence reigned as the pair slowly progressed towards them, one confident while the other obviously hesitant. As they approached, the two royals smiled pleasantly.
"I see you two are finally getting along again," Lothron greeted, "A relief."
"Indeed," Nórui agreed, standing up to place a kiss on Espenshade's forehead and to ruffle Legolas' golden hair. The young prince scowled at his grinning brother, batting his hand away.
"I came here to talk to someone else," Legolas muttered under his breath, "Not to be bothered by you."
This brought a pleased smile upon the Crown Prince's lips, gazing proudly at his brother. The golden haired ellon managed to return it faintly, though somewhat uneasily; as if to give him confidence, Nórui clapped his hand on his shoulder before turning away to talk idly with his sister and the Muru, leaving Legolas and Jaimea to themselves.
The elleth's obvious lack of interest sent a jolt of worry in his heart, and he wondered if he had finally upset their bond so much that it could never be repaired; he could not even decide whether to sit next to her or stay where he was. He much preferred to be alone without the distractions of the other elves present, and yet he feared how she would respond were he to ask her if they may leave.
But nothing came to him, and the only word that he could utter was her name. Still, she would not look at him, though he had a feeling she was listening. Chewing on his lip tentatively, he opted to take a seat beside her, careful not to sit too close.
Twiddling his thumbs, the prince would occasionally glance over to see whether she was watching him; he was most disappointed to see that she never even flinched. Sighing in defeat, Legolas looked over to Espenshade to find her narrowing her eyes at him, warning him not to try to escape. But he simply mimicked her expression, then faced the elleth again.
Taking in a deep breath, he finally said, "Jaimea, would you-"
But fate must not have wanted him to speak to the elf, for yet another disruption made itself known in the garden. However, said disruption did not seem apologetic for intruding.
"Adar?" Legolas called, rising to his feet in alarm at the raged expression on his father's face; even Jaimea reacted to the king's apparent anger. The conversation between the other three came to an abrupt halt as they watched curiously as the older ellon stomped his way towards them, his emerald eyes transfixed on one particular elleth.
Nórui stepped beside his brother, shielding the woman from his father's eyes, "What's the matter, Adar?" He called, but was not answered until Thranduil was right upon them, glaring down into their anxious eyes. The princess and Muru said nothing, only watching worriedly.
Narrowing his eyes, the Crown Prince started, "What can we do for you today, Adar?"
"You can step aside and let me take that elleth you seem to be protecting for some odd reason." He growled.
"Ada, what's going on?" Lothron asked, but she went ignored. She took a step towards the king, but Espenshade placed a stilling hand on her arm, preventing her from moving forwards.
Tension was thick in the air as the father and his sons stared defiantly into one another's eyes, daring the other to make a move. Behind them sat the elleth, gazing up at the back of their heads, her fingers nearly digging into the stone bench. She glanced over to the other two women for help, but found that they were just as transfixed as the three ellyn were.
Almost as if a silent agreement had been made, Thranduil took one step back, though did not avert his eyes. Dangerously low, he said, "I wish to see the three of you in my study this moment." He did not wait for a response, instead sweeping around and stalking rigidly the way he had come.
The two princes remained where they were until the king had disappeared around the corner, then simultaneously fell back onto the bench with heavy sighs of relief. Nórui glanced over to his brother with a small smirk, saying, "I thought he was going to tear our throats out, by the look on his face."
However, the younger elf did not seem as entertained as his brother. He shot the Crown Prince an admonishing look, "Nórui, this is no laughing matter. If this is about what I fear it is, his opinion is already evident."
The smirk on the older ellon's lips did not disappear, but shrank noticeably. He met Legolas's eyes for only a brief moment before looking down at his clasped hands. Carefully, he said, "Adar wouldn't get so angry about that, would he? Surely he is more levelheaded than you."
This jab went ignored by the other elf as he answered, "I wouldn't be too sure about it."
Jaimea suddenly stood from her seat, her back rigid and tense. Both ellyn shot each other worried looks; Legolas tentatively reached out to touch her arm, but her hard words stopped him.
"I would appreciate it if you wouldn't speak about me when I'm sitting right in between you," She stated tersely. Even when the Komuned popped up from its flower bed and ran to her leg to nuzzle into her hand, she continued, "We should go."
The three elves and Muru watched the elleth stride away swiftly, her fists clenched at her sides. Lothron once again opened her mouth to speak, but the Crown Prince held up his hand to stop her, and said, "Just come with us."
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Even when only half aware, the young Muru knew that something was wrong; he could not place what it was, but something felt unnatural, misplaced. As his eyes slowly cleared and his head stopped spinning, he suddenly became painfully aware what was 'unnatural': his arm had bent in such a position that he wasn't entirely sure that it was even his arm.
Hissing between his teeth, he forced himself into a sitting position, cradling his limp arm against his chest. However, stars burst in front of his eyes and his head swam on his shoulders again as soon as he was upright, sending him right back onto the cold ground with a crunching thud.
The next thing he was aware of was laughter floating in the air. He thought for a moment that it was the two females that they had been traveling with, but memories of the past night came swooping back to him. Groaning softly, he struggled to locate the direction of the voice.
His voice was raspy and rough as he called, "Ricamros?"
There was silence for a moment, and he began to wonder if he was only hearing voices, until the familiar sound of his brother nearby reached his ears.
"Aye," Was the Muru's response.
"Where are you?" Tarmikos croaked, raising his functioning arm to his forehead.
"Try opening your eyes."
Blinking rapidly, the Muru obeyed and glanced around wearily. The glares from the snow hurt his head, and a throbbing he hadn't noticed before increased tenfold. Narrowing his eyes to keep out the sun, Tarmikos turned his head slightly to find that his brother was laying not more than ten feet from him.
Ricamros offered his brother a small grin, "Good morning."
Rolling his eyes, Tarmikos smirked dryly, "I see you're in a good mood, despite the fact that we just fell off a cliff and now have no idea where we are."
"That's the spirit."
Sighing wearily, the younger prince examined his brother from head to foot: the most he could find in terms of injuries was a bruised face, scratches all over his body- some worse than others- and an oddly placed arm. Judging from his ragged breathing, he suspected a few broken ribs as well. He was shocked to see that there wasn't any other noticeable injury, considering what had just occurred.
When he looked back up to the prince's face, he found that Ricamros had noticed the examination, and was gazing at him sadly. Tarmikos smiled as if to console him that he hadn't found anything too extensive, but that seemed to only deepen his frown.
"How long have you been awake?" Tarmikos asked, once again trying to sit up. Using one arm to support himself, he turned to get a better look at his brother. The other arm continued to hang lifeless on the snowy ground.
"Not too long," Was the prince's quiet answer. Narrowing his eyes suspiciously, the younger Muru attempted to pull himself closer.
"What's wrong?" He asked before breaking into a fit of ragged coughing. Crumpling back to the ground, he held his hand over his mouth in an effort to soften the harsh noise. When he was sure that no more would come forth, he slowly moved his hand away and was most displeased to see a few trickles of blood. 'It seems I'm the one with the broken ribs,' he thought dryly.
"Are you alright?" He heard Ricamros ask worriedly, but Tarmikos shook his head.
"I'm fine," He answered, looking back over at him and resuming his awkward trek to his side, "But something isn't right with you."
"It's alright," The Crown Prince retorted quickly.
"If it was alright, you would be moving away," Tarmikos shot back, now looming over his brother, "Now, tell me."
Both princes stared expectantly into one another's eyes, one hoping the other would leave while the other hoping to find what exactly it was that was bothering his brother. Ricamros knew that he was destined to lose this battle, and so it took only a few moments for him to give in.
Sighing softly, he said, "Something's wrong."
"What is it?" Tarmikos prompted, his tone much softer now. It took the older prince a few moments to speak again, and when he did, the younger Muru almost wished that he hadn't forced this information out. To Ricamros, it felt like confirming a fear that he had hoped by ignoring would go away.
His voice trembling, he said, "I came to four hours ago, and…Tarmikos, I can't… I… I haven't been able to feel my legs since I awoke."
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Yes, I'm very late. I know. I'm not giving out any excuses. Let's just say that sometimes a good cry can make the whole world seem much better… and can give a writer a taste for angst.
I made this chapter a little longer, in hopes that maybe it would make the wait a little less… painful? I don't know, what ever you want to call it. Sorry if I left a few of you unsatisfied; just know that it isn't my intention. Sometimes things come up, and I just can't get around to writing. But anyway, I said no excuses, so I'm going to shut up before I start giving them.
Oh, and be aware that authors notes before the chapter are usually written days, sometimes weeks, before the last authors note it written. Just thought I'd point that out.
Next chapter WILL be posted much faster.
Until Next Time,
Manwathiel
