Laure: (does a little dance) I've reached double digits with my chapter amount! Yay for chapter ten! (And sorry I was on a hiatus, semester turn-around and everything put me off for a bit)
Legolas: Chapter ten? Already? Boy, does time fly…
Haldir: Considering we are elves… no kidding!
Legolas: You are no elf, you horrid, horrid excuse for a living being.
Haldir: Silence, blue-eyes, or I'll accidentally shove this sword down your throat.
Legolas: Try me, tough stuff.
Laure: (sigh) Does the bickering ever end?
Lynx: Nope… anyway. Thanks to all my wonderful reviewers! You guys rock my socks off!
Legolas: I like socks. X3
Haldir: So sock it, pixie man.
Legolas: Bug off, idiot. For one, I am and elf not a man, and for two, you suck!
Haldir: That was rather lame of you…
Legolas: … shut up…
Lynx: (nervous laugh) Oh by the way, Leggy pie, my buddy fluffyrachel says helloooo. She also told me to tell you that she doesn't think you are an idiot.
Legolas: (tears up) Finally someone who doesn't believe that I am an idiot! I must find this fluffyrachel and glomp her to show my thanks. Justice for me! (Wipes away his tears and runs off in a random direction)
Laure: Whoa! Hey! Hello! I don't think you are an idiot… (Pouts as Legolas runs by her) Jeez, I am so ignored… by the way; the reviewers lobby is that way… (Points in opposite direction)
Legolas: … I knew that… (Runs off)
Artanis scratched her ear in annoyance while anxiety and worry nibbled at her already frayed nerves. Raking a long-fingered hand through her ebony locks, she opened the door to her chamber and left hurriedly, she did not even bother to check her appearance as was usual of her.
This was horrible! The tension that ran through the remaining people of Elvirin was so thick that if she wanted to she could swim through it. Amros and Valandil had left yesterday for war, leaving Artanis in charge until they returned.
That is if they returned…
Artanis tried to banish all the cynical thoughts from her mind; this was not the time for negativity. Her people needed all the hope and faith that they could get, and she would have to help supply it. With the knowledge that soon one of their princess' was to be killed, their level of hope had been left at close to none.
Artanis remembered the last time she had seen her beloved little sister… the comical smile that had graced her lips and had been reflected upon her own face. She loved her sister dearly; they may have had a few disagreements in the past, a few arguments and clashes of personality, but regardless, she cherished her sister nearly more than anything in the world.
Growing up, it had been hers and Valandil's responsibility to look after Laure, to keep an eye on her and make sure she never got into trouble. The feeling of obligation had more than tripled when the old city of Altarien had been attacked and their mother slain saving her three children from harm. Upon the founding of Elvirin, Amros, having fallen into the deepest of despairs and desperations towards the remaining memories of his beloved, had buried himself in his duties. His duties towards his people were what kept him from remembering… Was it fair that Eresse, his love, had been taken so soon after his dear brother, Amondel, had been slain in battle by his enemy? So busy with his duties, Amros had not the time to care properly for his children, so Valandil and Artanis had taken it upon themselves to take care of the young and innocent Laure, watch over her, teach her, and show her the wrongs and rights of the world around them. Even though they were young in years themselves, only children compared to that of the elder around them, they had been old enough to understand that Amros needed time before he was ready to come back to them.
They patience had been rewarded…
The royal family of Rhûn was a tight group, an eternal circle that never broke…
And now this? Laure's life threatened with execution? Her brother and father risking their lives in war? Artanis left behind to grieve for the future and to worry herself sick?
Why was this happening to them? What had they ever done…?
Artanis laid her hand on the cold granite wall, stopping before the throne room as she buried her face in her other hand. Unshed tears began to assault her vision, threatening to fall if she did not close her eyes.
What would she do were her family members to perish?
She could almost hear the insane, war-stained cackle of the King Thranduil upon disposing of his opposition, free to take what he had been victorious to gain…
Artanis cared not for the ownership of the plains; a simple stretch of scorched blood-stained grassland was not important… no… She cared only for her family, her people…
Laure…
Where was she now to jest with her and make fun of her obsession with appearances?
Where was she now to give her that famous smug look she donned often?
Where was she to look up to her for guidance?
Where was she now to call her 'big sister'?
Where was she now?
"Big sister! Big sister! Look! I caught one!"
"Wow, 'Re-re, that's a big one." Artanis grinned broadly, clapping together her hands at the hysterical look of victory on Laure's little face.
Today, Valandil was having his first lesson at archery, and Amros had once again disappeared to engross himself in his duties. Artanis had taken her kid-sister outside to hunt bugs, an activity she did not much enjoy herself, unlike Laure who was beginning to reflect the early signs of a tomboy. Artanis may not have shared the interest, but she loved watching her baby sister run around the garden on her short little legs trying to catch these little insects that hid amongst the greenery.
Laure gazed at the small green creature in her tiny hands, smiling toothily with triumph and wonder. She hobbled over to her lounging older sister, proudly presenting her with the 'trophy'.
Artanis looked at the grasshopper, not really keen on taking it, so instead she came up with a better idea.
"Listen, 'Re-re, I'm hungry." Artanis ruffled her sister's messy mahogany tresses, "Why don't we go down to the kitchens and sneak some blueberry pastries?"
Laure's eyes lit up in delight; she dropped the grasshopper, forgetting completely about her little game. "Blueberry pastries are the best!"
Artanis grinned and stood up, being nearly double little Laure's toddler height. She took her sister's hand and began to lead her from the gardens.
After a moment, Laure spoke up in a cute, questioning voice; "Big sister? What does 'love' mean?"
Artanis was a bit taken aback by the sudden question, but smiled softly at the aura of innocence and purity that surrounded the bundle of light that was her sister. "Why do you ask?"
"'Cause I always hear you, Val, and papa saying it…"
After a moment of thinking of the rights words to use to describe it, Artanis replied, her black fox ears flattening slightly. "Love? It's the feeling you have when you…well, when you care about someone. Yes, when you care about someone a lot…"
"Really?" Laure stared up at her with wonder before a big smile came onto her face. "That means that I love you, big sister!"
Artanis beamed amiably, stopping mid-walk so she could bend down and hug Laure tightly.
"I love you too, 'Re-re. I love you a lot and don't you ever forget it."
"My lady…?" The call drew Artanis from her reverie; looking up between her fingers, her eyes fell upon the lithe form of Tari, her sister's good friend.
"Ah, Tari," Artanis hastily wiped the tears from her face, "What brings you to the throne room?"
Tari did not respond immediately; the timid girl looked disturbed and upset, even a little ashamed. She hung her head slightly, her snow-white ears drooping in disgrace.
"What is wrong?" Artanis ducked her head slightly so she could see the shorter tauren's eyes.
"I… have to tell you something…" Tari said, her voice almost a whisper, "And I am shamed that I did not tell you sooner…"
"What is it?" Artanis raised an eyebrow in confusion; what could possibly be so important? Unless it had something to do with Laure…
"I… well…" Tari looked embarrassed and disappointed with herself. "Well… the night Laure disappeared…"
Artanis immediately froze with her eyes wide; Tari had known something and had not told anyone?
"Tell me everything." Artanis gently grasped the mortified girl by the arm and pulled her into the throne room that no one else occupied. Closing the large, magnificent doors, Artanis turned her gaze back to Tari who was staring at her with large sea green eyes; the tauren looked as if she expected reprimanding.
"Please tell me." Artanis said with an air of pleading in her usually complacent voice.
Tari drew in a breath, "The elves did not take Laure like everyone believes…"
Artanis looked at her with confusion, "But how is that so? How do you know?"
"… She was leaving on her own will, leaving because she believed she could put an end to the war." Tari slid a hand down her face, looking more worn than her young age should have allowed.
"What!" Artanis shook her head, her upper lip rising and her brow furrowing in a look of angry bewilderment.
"I ran into her on her way to the stables." Tari continued, looking frightened, "She had with her Prince Valandil's armour and sword, she even took his horse… she was going to impersonate him in order to negotiate with King Thranduil…"
"Why have you told no one sooner?" Artanis seized her by her slim shoulders, shaking her less than gently.
"She told me not to!" Tari wailed in distress, throwing her hands over her head, "I could not hold it inside of me any longer! It is my fault she is to be executed! She is going to die because of me!"
Artanis abruptly stopped shaking her, her livid expression slowly softening. "I am sorry… I… I did not mean to overreact." She let go and dusted off the tauren's shoulders, looking slightly ashamed of herself.
"… I should have told sooner." Tari reasoned timidly, "… I am sorry also…"
"Although there is nothing we can do with that information now…" Artanis sighed, rubbing her hands together, "It would do nothing for father and Valandil and cannot be brought to them in time… nor would it change the outcome of the battle…"
At that, Tari looked even more mortified. Artanis gave her a gentle look, "It is not your fault, Tari. It is good that you told me, because if something happens at least we will know the truth. If anything I am to blame because I did not stop my sister the night she left." Artanis brushed back a stray ebony lock, a faraway look taking residence in her silver-grey eyes; "I should have seen through her façade… I was always able to, why not that night out of so many? Archery practice, my foot…"
Tari looked down at her hands as she replied, "I have faith in Laure and I am sure she will be able to pull out of this… she always does. She is strong, she will survive."
"You're right… I must have faith…" Artanis nodded once in agreement, "Laure will be fine."
"Besides," Tari continued, "If you were not able to sense it that one night out of many, maybe that means that this is Fate's will. Perhaps some good will come out of this after all."
"Again, you're right." Artanis drew in a deep, calming breath, "Maybe Laure will be the one to shape our future."
The company was silent; one would find more noise in a deserted graveyard. No one moved; no one talked; no one did anything but stare at the slight dust rising on the bright horizon.
Valandil's expression was hard and impassive; war was a province that allowed no thought of compassion or yielding. His jade eyes were dark and shaded, the same look reflected in the face of his father. Amros sat to his right upon the broad back of his horse, sub-consciously clutching the handle of his weapon. There was a numbing sort of tingling eating away at his stomach; the pre-battle jitters, knowing that soon he would either have to take life or have his life taken.
Amros spared his son a glance; despite the situation he could not help but feel the pride swell within him. His son was a fine warrior; that was for sure. Valandil would be a great ruler when Amros' time came to pass, he would defend the country valiantly and keep safe all that was held dear. He returned his attention to the horizon; from where he and his company waited, they could see Thranduil's army approaching slowly like a bad omen.
Did they have Laure with them? Or had they already killed her… At that thought, a very familiar feeling hit him hard in the chest, the same feeling he had experienced after Eresse was killed. Laure could not be dead… no, she had too strong of a will to live. That was at least what his heart told him, but his mind spoke differently, saying not to get his hopes up lest he be disappointed…
A shroud of despair began to overcome him as he watched Thranduil signal for his army to halt less than fifty metres away from where his own army was situated. From the corner of his eye he saw Valandil raise his hand very slightly. Immediately the soldiers in the army put themselves into their battle stances, professional looking and intense.
"Father," Valandil gestured his head forward slightly before nudging his horse into a decent pace towards Thranduil. Amros nodded in agreement and copied his son's actions, noting that Thranduil had decided to come forth also, followed closely by another.
That was odd. The elf-prince did not often come to battle, he had only done so once before but that had been a while ago. Why the sudden change? Peculiar indeed… Did Thranduil foresee the battle's outcome different than any of those before? Most likely… a lot more was at stake now than ever…
The two parties met halfway, stopping a mere five feet apart. It was silent for a few moments after they dismounted before someone decided it was time to speak.
"Lord Amros." Thranduil inclined his head slightly, a smirk faintly visible on his lips. "Ah and Prince Valandil; I had never seen you up close before… my, you look like your sister." The elven-king's eyes flashed with mocking.
Valandil merely stared at him, his emerald eyes narrowed.
"Tell me, Thranduil, why have you decided to make your son present this time?" Amros voiced the question that had been eating at him. At his mentioning, the young blonde elf brought his cobalt eyes up to meet his.
"What do you mean?" Thranduil gave him an inquisitive look, "Legolas is my country's pride and has attended nearly every battle we have come to." He then added an afterthought, his eyes glinting maliciously. "You just never see him because he often leads the soldiers included in the surprise attack."
At this, Amros said nothing in response.
"Well, any negotiations to be had? Or perhaps final wishes?" Thranduil enquired smoothly, cool confidence leaking from every pore on his skin.
"No." Valandil replied, his tawny ears pressing against his head in irritation towards the king's arrogance and self-confidence. The blonds were about to turn back to their horses when Valandil suddenly spoke again, "But I do have a proposition for you to contemplate."
"What sort of proposition?" Thranduil raised a silver-blond eyebrow with interest.
"A proposition?" Amros hissed at Valandil under his breath, seizing one of his shoulders in an excruciatingly tight grip.
"Trust me, father." Valandil gave him an earnest look as he twisted his father's grip loose. Amros gazed intently at him for a moment before sighing and releasing him, allowing his son to continue.
"The proposition is very simple and will avoid the unnecessary death toll we were about to undergo."
"Go on." Thranduil said after Valandil paused, "You've caught my curiosity."
"Instead of fighting here today and spilling another hundred pints of blood on these already stained grounds, why do we not solve this the easy way?" Valandil's eyes sparked with seriousness, "Return Princess Laure to us and we will relinquish these plains to you."
Thranduil looked at him for a long moment before he suddenly burst out laughing. "Are you serious? You are really naïve enough to believe I am only herein for the plains?" He chuckled again, "I plan to take over your country, Valandil, not just the plains! Have you not known that? By Elbereth, I thought it was obvious!" Thranduil leaned back and allowed himself a devious smile, "With the victory and extension of my kingdom, Mirkwood will once again be known as Greenwood the Great! We will no longer have to fear our enemies or hide amongst our trees and I will be known as the greatest elven-king in existence!"
Amros scowled angrily while Valandil merely watched him with disdain.
"You witless, self-absorbed tyrant!" Amros barked with rage, his dark eyes flashing furiously, "You think this merely a game of chess?"
"Watch your tongue, tauren." Thranduil' upper lip curled slightly as he drew his blade threateningly.
Amros ignored his threat, "You're not a king! You're a fool!"
Thranduil gave an infuriated growl and launched at him, "I'll kill you right here!"
"Ada, no!" Legolas shouted, leaping forward and preventing him from going any closer to the two tauren rulers. "Consider what Valandil has offered! We need not spend the lives of our soldiers for such an irrelevant cause!"
"Legolas, you know as little of war as that tauren princess." Thranduil hissed dangerously, pressing slightly against Legolas' firm hold. "It's either conquer or be conquered. That wench must have instilled her foolish optimism and ideals upon you! This is war; much must be sacrificed!"
"That is not true!" Legolas countered. "Can you not see, ada? You are slowly turning your own people against you with your thirst for power and renown! Why can you not be content with what you already possess? You already have a powerful kingdom and a great reputation! Salvage what nobility and pride you have left!"
"Silence!" Thranduil roared, his fist swiftly connecting with Legolas' jaw. The prince stumbled back a step or two, momentarily stunned. "Do not speak as if you know what it is you speak of!"
Legolas brought his sleeve up to his mouth, brushing away the bright crimson blood that suddenly appeared there.
"What will it take for you to return Laure to us?" Valandil exclaimed, his eyes pleading and desperate.
Thranduil slowly turned his head to look at him, smirking; "What will it take? Dear Valandil… Do you not learn?"
"Is it Elvirin you want?" Valandil asked, his father blanching in surprise.
"Well… I suppose you could say that." Thranduil shrugged, sheathing his sword as his temper died.
"Fine," Valandil set his jaw, a look of impassiveness blanketing his features. "You restore Laure to us unharmed, and we will surrender the city to you."
"Valandil?" Amros suddenly cried out in alarm, "Have you gone mad!"
"The city is worth nothing compared to my little sister!" Valandil shouted back fiercely, "You of all people should realize this!"
Amros became silent, knowing that Valandil was right; Laure was much more important than some city that could be rebuilt someplace else…
"Hmm…" Thranduil thoughtfully smoothed his silver blond hair to his head. "Not a bad idea…" From there he could slowly dominate the rest of Rhûn… "Then it is a bargain!"
"But first you must return to us Laure unharmed." Valandil added carefully, "Only then will we forfeit Elvirin."
"So be it." Thranduil nodded in agreement, "I shall see to it that it is done. No blood will be shed tonight. My company and I will bring the princess to your city this day next week." Maybe he wouldn't have to brandish Valandil's precious weapon in their faces this time… oh well, there was always the next battle…
Valandil bowed his head then turned to his father as Thranduil spun around on his heel, grabbing Legolas roughly by the arm and half-dragging him to the horses. The elf-prince sharply jerked his arm from the warlord's grasp and mounted his horse, his cobalt eyes flaming with annoyance.
The taurens watched as the blond pair rode silently away, ready to take their army back to Mirkwood.
"I feel bad for Prince Legolas." Valandil suddenly voiced, "All he has is good intentions for his father and his people and all he receives in return is a blow to the face…"
"Thranduil is a fool, that's why." Amros responded darkly, bringing his gaze back to his son, "He will not realize what he has until he loses it. Come; let us return to Elvirin…"
"Father, I am sorry about my decision, but I felt I had no choice." Valandil stared at the ground in shame as they lead their horses back to their soldiers.
"You think I would have let you proceed had I not agreed with you?" Amros spared him a half-hearted smile. "Laure is my daughter; I would choose her over the richest pile of treasure or the greatest amount of glory."
Valandil smiled softly at him in return. "As would I…" He looked over his shoulder as they reached their fellow warriors, watching the dust rise once again as the legions of elves began to head back to their trees.
He heaved a noiseless sigh, suddenly feeling much better. They would lose Elvirin… but at least Laure would be safe.
Laure stopped for a short break, settling herself onto a large root that jutted out of the moss-covered ground rather randomly. The sun was low, hidden behind the dark shroud of trees that shadowed her head; it must have been the early evening, only an hour or so since she lift the palace.
Usually forests were beautiful and alleviating, with birds chirping and the leaves sparkling like the greenery back home, but no. This forest was cold… terrifyingly magnificent and overrun by shadows and strange sounds. The trees were gnarled into peculiar shapes and the forest floor was naught but moss, dirt, and sinister looking roots. The air was close… so close that it was moist and almost suffocating.
Laure sighed, leaning back slightly against the smooth gnarl of an ancient tree trunk. She looked around for any other signs of life other than herself. There were none, it was almost deathly silent except for the occasional rustling or stirring amongst the foliage. The trees were especially silent, not social like the trees within the confines of the elven palace. But who in their right mind would live within such a god-forsaken heap of trees?
Rubbing her leg, Laure blew a stray lock of hair from her face. About ten minutes ago, her foot had gone through an invisible pothole in front of a well-placed root, earning her quite a number of scratches a bruises considering that she had fallen rather heavily. She did not want to admit it, but she was tired… tired and scared. She had not had a decent sleep since the night before that blasted Anaro had incarcerated her… Maybe she should take a quick nap, it is not like anything is going to saunter by and eat her while she is sleeping.
Deciding that it was a good idea to sleep and regain strength for the journey, she perched herself in between two large roots comfortably. After checking for any hiding bugs and becoming satisfied, she lay down and fell asleep almost immediately, the day's events taking their toll on her.
It was a few hours until the elves came upon the gates to the elven-king's halls, feeling quite victorious and successful with their new gain.
The people of Rhûn would never know what hit them…
"Hail King Thranduil!" The shout from above came just before the gates began to open. "The King returns!"
Legolas stared irately at his father's back as they rode through the majestic gates, the elven soldiers behind them chattering animatedly amongst themselves and hurrying off to greet loved ones.
Thranduil waited until the crowd died and the elves filed away to continue with their day's duties before signaling to Legolas. Out of the corner of his eye, the elven prince saw his father's hand go up, two fingers simply gesturing forward. Nonchalantly, Legolas complied and approached his father, leading his horse along with him.
"I am disappointed in you, Legolas." Thranduil sighed, turning to face his only son, "I thought I had taught you better than that."
"Spare me the lecture, father." Legolas retorted calmly, "Do not attempt to reprimand me as if I was an elfling. I have no regrets and I dare say that I am as stubborn as you: my thoughts will not change on this matter."
Thranduil simply stared at him, unsure of whether to be proud of his son's excellent self-assurance or whether to smack him for crossing his word.
"You no longer have my support in this affair." Legolas added objectively, shaking his head as if to prove his point.
"I see..." Thranduil's eyebrows furrowed slightly in displeasure, "We shall council on this problem later; I am going to go speak to the tauren princess." He added before Legolas could leave, "You are going to accompany me."
"Very well then..." Legolas consented and proceeded to follow his father into the palace, thanking the stable boy as he advanced to care for their horses.
Tailing his father towards the dungeons, Legolas allowed himself a tired sigh. He disliked being on such terms with his father, but he was sick of being the King's pawn in war. It was time he voiced his own opinions and defended what he believed in. He felt ill every time he thought of the taurens he had felled during the many previous battles, innocent, undeserving people that fought to protect their name and place in the world. Was that fair? The elves fought for power and supremacy and the taurens for self-preservation and for the sake of their country… why were the elves the ones to receive victory over the nobler of the two warring nations?
Legolas stepped down the steps after Thranduil and entered the silent and eerie dungeons. He felt bad for any poor soul that had to reside in such a horrible place…
"Blazes! What has happened here?" Thranduil shouted angrily as they came across the unsightly scene. The sentinel lay on the ground before them, dried blood caked and matted to a wound upon his forehead. The door to the cell before him stood ajar, the space inside empty and looking like it had never been occupied.
Legolas rushed past his father and dropped to his knees before the guard on the floor, checking to make sure he was alive.
"He is alive." Legolas breathed in relief to no one in particular as he lifted the guard's eyelid, watching how the pupil reacted, "He has a concussion, though, he should be brought to the healing wing immediately." Legolas looked over his shoulder at his father, slightly disconcerted by the rage emanating from Thranduil's body.
"A-ada?" Legolas solicited uncertainly, his cobalt eyes somewhat widened.
"That… that tauren princess…" Thranduil forced the words between his gritted teeth, his fists clenched at his sides. "She is jeopardizing everything I have just gained!"
"It was maybe four hours ago…" A silky voice sounded from seemingly no where.
Legolas slowly turned his head to face the pair of glowing blood-shot eyes residing in the shadows of the next cell closest to them. The setting sun from the high windows only served to reveal the lower half of the person's body, his face and torso still masked by darkness. Legolas looked at the pair of arms that sat upon the stranger's lap, one hand clasping his arm that accommodated an ugly looking burn. The skin around the large burn was black and purple with many odd blood stains here and there; a yellow substance leaked out of the penetrated skin and bubbled grotesquely, causing Legolas to wince unintentionally at the sight.
"She knocked out the guard and unlocked the cell before grabbing her things and fleeing." The elf's dark eyes glinted dangerously as their owner spoke slowly, "She can't have gone far."
Thranduil narrowed his silver-grey eyes in anger, "The bloody wench…"
Legolas pulled himself to his feet, his eyes darting between the prisoner and his father as he waited for someone to talk. After a few moments when no one spoke, he decided to break the silence.
"What action are you going to take, ada?" Legolas enquired tentatively, his father's narrowed eyes now turning on him in an instant.
"I am going to send out a squadron of our best to hunt her down and return her to captivity." Thranduil replied after a moment's thought, "I cannot let her risk the loss of Elvirin; she is our leverage."
Legolas frowned slightly, but said nothing more about it, "I shall send for the healers." He turned to leave.
"No, I will handle that." Thranduil suddenly smirked rather peculiarly in the dawning of an idea as Legolas looked upon him in mild confusion. "You, my dear son… you are one of my greatest warriors, and you are a great hunter as well… I would say you are the best there is here."
"Where is this leading?" Legolas knew the answer to the question before it even fell past his lips.
"You repentance for today's little incident relies upon whether you can track the tauren princess down and return her to this dungeon." Thranduil crossed his arms indignantly, rather pleased with how things turned out despite the risk to his plans.
Legolas scowled in disagreement, but made no complaints. His father's mind was set and there was no way to challenge his word and win after the king had made a decision, he was simply too stubborn.
"Now I suggest you go and gather the necessities for your trip, Legolas." Thranduil moved out of the way of the exit to the dungeons, gesturing very slightly with his hand. He raised a single silver-blond eyebrow at Legolas, observing the prince's reaction to such a task.
"Very well then…" Legolas nodded his head slightly at the challenge; if this was how it was to be, so be it… He glanced one last time at the unsettlingly mysterious prisoner before going back up the stairs and leaving the dungeons without another word.
What would he do once he actually found Princess Laure? He did not know why but he felt as if it was a betrayal on his behalf… To make himself feel better, he tried to convince himself that she was the opposition. He and Laure were enemies, so he should not have any hesitations of any sort about apprehending her, but no matter how much he told himself this as he gathered his things, he could not bring himself to believe it. What would he do? Refuse to hunt her down and get disowned upon treason? His father was probably that determined, too… He also had to ask himself why he felt bad about such a simple task... Well, the only plausible explanation was that he believed in her cause. Yes, that was it. He simple agreed with her views of the war, and that it had to be stopped before a whole nation was destroyed. How this was going to be achieved was a mystery, but where there's a will there's a way.
Nothing was impossible.
Sighing he tied the small pack of healing supplies onto his back before he took his weapons down from their rightful place. He didn't think he'd really need them, but one can never be too precautious this day and age. Every time he went out on some errand on his own or with a small group, something always happened to him, so it was a good idea to take them.
He shoved his sheathed dagger into his belt and slid a knife into the side of his boot. Satisfied, he fastened his dark green cloak around his neck and shoulders before strapping his full quiver onto his back and also his dual white knives.
He took a long, calming breath, determined to figure out whatever it was that he had to do after he found her, and then he would think about the consequences afterwards.
Right now, his first priority was finding Princess Laure.
Lynx: Sorry for the wait guys, if indeed you were waiting at all, but semester change through me off biiiig time. I finally got around to it so here is the result! I hope you enjoyed it! I appreciate donations in the form of reviews! Hint hint.
Legolas: (still off glomping random people who don't think he's an idiot)
Laure: (pouting)
Haldir: (playing with a Legolas voodoo doll) I think I'll stick a pin here, and here, and oh yesss, definitely here.
Lynx: Okayyyyy… RUN! (Runs off into the horizon flailing her arms and screaming like a madwoman)
Laure: (sigh) Still the only sane one.