Note: This chapter contains more naked ellith in baths and increased... steaminess. I've decided to make some of my elves pansexual, because it's an AU and it pleases me to do so. Carry on!
The evening had utterly exhausted me. I'd never dreamed when I'd found the arcane piece of music in the library that it might have been so beloved by the late queen. Wearily, I floated like a ghost back to my quarters, pulled open the heavy door, and went in.
Once again I noticed the cold spaciousness of my new apartments. Everything was pristine. Tidy, clean. I have servants now, I reminded myself incoherently.
I walked to my dressing mirror to peer in at myself.
The elleth who looked back at me seemed depleted, with haunted eyes and pale skin. I reserved judgement, deciding to be kind to her, as not many others seemed inclined to do so.
The King. The Elvenking. Thranduil King, Son of Oropher. Again and again, his image came unbidden to my mind, and I wondered if I'd been too subservient, too cowed by him. But the Prince had encouraged me to fight for myself, and I had. Valar forgive me, I had. I recalled my shaking hand clutching at the edge of his robes and lowered my aching head into my hands.
My body felt numb with fatigue, and I obeyed when it led me to the large bed and sank down. There was a warm silken blanket artfully arranged on top of the coverlet and I took hold of it, cradling myself in the pleasant texture of it. Thus arrayed, and even in my long, studded gown, I fell quickly into sleep and knew no more.
Prince Legolas found a joy when engaged in archery that he was hard pressed to explain to anyone else. He had heard peers and elders exclaim over his abilities, so he knew on some level that his gifts on the subject were unusual, but he never thought of that—he simply dwelt on his love of the strongbow taut in his hands, the deadly grace of his arrows, and the beauty of movement as he worked.
On this particular morning, he had a late summer breeze to contend with. No—to play with. For it was always a challenge, a pleasure, to discern the given conditions of each day and then adapt his exercises to work with them and not against them.
The practice range situated at the edge of the Mirkwood Court was unparalleled.
He knew cognitively that many ranges were comprised simply of standing targets. How boring it must seem! he thought in amusement.
Not so here. Here, a rambling, complicated set of wooden structures had been built—it was a maze, really, diverse in its height and makeup—and targets large and small had been arranged in both obvious and surprising places. Many of them had been hung and were meant to be undulating, swinging, or otherwise moving. Some were impossible to hit unless the warrior lay prone or hung upside-down from one of the support beams. He loved it, loved coming here of a morning and practicing alone for hours until his shoulders ached and his arms trembled from the strain.
He did wonder at times if it might be updated. Or if he might find a new range in another city that might challenge him even more—for he knew this one so well by now, knew its secrets—that it seemed he cheated whenever he practiced there.
This morning, he wore a fine leather jerkin and his favorite vambraces. His fine blond hair had been braided back into a warrior's tail. At the slight stirring of an early breeze, he lifted his head to scent the air.
These were the throes of a dying summer. Crisp autumn would be upon them all soon, and taking exercise outdoors would be a different experience altogether. The Prince stretched his lithe neck and limbered his arms, gazing about at the foliage of the trees in the Mirkwood. Not yet tinged with reds and yellows, but soon. Very soon.
After he'd strung his bow and donned his quiver, adjusting the strap so it hung as he liked it, Legolas fired off a few experimental shots, targeting a small protrusion toward the top of the immense practice structure. They struck true, though not quite dead center. The capricious breeze made his attempts list slightly left today.
He changed his mark, and shot arrows two at a time. Then three at a time. He exhaled a breath, slowing. If he weren't more conservative, he'd have to climb up and retrieve them all faster than he would have liked to.
The Prince of the Mirkwood backed up and dropped his broad shoulders, then glanced up at a swinging target about eighty paces from himself—locked its position in his mind. He nocked an arrow, took two slow breaths, and then sprang forward, racing until he'd built up enough momentum to spring into an aerial flip and land lightly on one knee. Without allowing himself to think, he loosed the arrow and watched it fly toward its mark. The satisfying thunk! told him it had hit.
Standing to adjust his gear, he turned back toward the sprawling city of Mirkwood and a flash of movement caught his eye. It was an an elleth—he regarded her—she seemed familiar, but he did not recall her immediately
"My Prince," she called, her reedy voice carrying on the wind.
He watched her approach, standing the butt of his bow upon the ground.
She was beautiful, true—but whom of Elfkind was not? Her long brown locks had been half-coiled on her head in intricate braids; a practical choice. The brilliant green of her eyes struck him as she neared.
When she was close enough to be heard, the elleth knelt graciously before him. "Chalia," she said by way of introduction. "Chalia Ravaxalim, Highness, at your service."
He nodded to her, glancing momentarily back at his waiting targets.
"I do not wish to disturb his Majesty," she continued, noticing. "But there is something troubling me that I would voice. The idea to approach you seized me and I knew you might be able to assist."
Legolas turned his attention back to her. "I would help you lady, of course," he replied in assent. "You have my ear."
The elleth folded her lips in thought and came to her feet.
He noticed the practiced ease with which she moved and wondered what her profession might be if she had one.
"I wish," she said slowly, "to join the King's guard."
He frowned. "The traditional tests and inductions have already been performed for the year," he said, a comment, really—not necessarily an argument. The timing seemed odd to him.
The elleth nodded. "I know, my Prince," she conceded. "And I cannot sleep for the thought that I might have made a grave mistake in failing to enlist. I have strong feelings on the subject, and a desire to serve my kingdom well and be useful."
Legolas considered this very seriously, interested now.
"Truly, Highness," she added. "I would wait until the next matriculation, were it not for the warning in my heart. I felt moved to seek you out, and so here I am."
The turns of phrase were so specific that he felt inclined to hear her out.
"It has not been done in several hundreds of years," he said. "But I believe an exception may be made under the right circumstances. Let us talk further of this."
Chalia's beautiful face lit with relief. There was a comeliness to her appearance that he found very pleasing, and the way she spoke of her own desires and abilities made him wonder at her prowess. She would need to be carefully tested, of course, and if her results were exemplary, he would do his best to speak for her at court.
A little wistfully, he unstrung his bow and moved to take a turn through the compound, inviting her to join him.
When I awoke, it was to the sound of late summer birdsong and my own still apartments.
The blanket I still clutched to myself was creased with my own weight, and I saw now that I'd barely moved at all during the night. The gown I had foolishly decided to sleep in had pressed itchy imprints into my skin and I rose, disgusted and determined to peel it off of my body.
I shed it quickly, like a snake, and donned a thin robe. I patted uselessly at my face and hair and left at once for the baths.
There was thick steam rising off of the surface of the water today, the temperatures between water and air finally vying for dominance as early autumn had a way of instigating. I walked slowly in until the warm water reached my shoulders and submerged myself, relieved.
At the soft sounds I'd made, I heard a smooth voice call, "Hello?"
It was Chalia, and I turned about, blinking water out of my eyes until I could discern her direction. "Good morning," I said sleepily.
She'd come up behind me and embraced me now, pressing her warm breasts to my upper back in a shower of displaced water. I could feel her center align against my rear and shivered involuntarily at the pleasure this invoked.
"Good morning," she replied silkily against the tipped shell of my ear.
I reminded myself to breathe as she took hold of my shoulders and turned me tenderly to face her. She was such a beautiful elleth, and the unexpected tactile contact had set my heart to racing.
Chalia seemed to know what I was feeling without my divulging it to her, but that wasn't why she'd sought me out this morning. I sensed news, some new information.
"What has happened?" I asked her, stifling a yawn as I played languidly with her floating hands.
She brushed wet hair away from my face, and those stroking fingers strayed dangerously close to my ear. I sighed in frustration and blinked up at her, and she laughed.
"I met with the Prince yesterday," she told me.
My eyes came open a little wider. "Really?" I asked.
"Yes," said Chalia. "I told him that I wanted to enlist, and he's agreed to administer the test!"
I knew she was excited, but I felt only trepidation for my dear friend. The King's guard was dangerous. Accidents happened. Battles—happened. I hugged her close to me, intending to comfort her but setting myself aflame instead.
"I am glad for you, my friend," I told her. My fevered pulse hammered away at her beauty, and I swallowed with effort.
It was common among my kin to indulge physical affinities if social constructs weren't upset by it. Ellith and ellyn alike coupled with their counterparts and with each other, though it was best done class to equivalent class, and when those engaged were in no danger of bonding. Bonding and then separating from a mate could be fatal.
I knew what this was. This was pure lust, and I would not act unless she returned my feelings. The likelihood of us being able to continue as friends once these urges were dealt with was extremely high, and I comforted myself with a silent, not yet. Think on it first.
She pulled away and moved her hand smoothly through the water, contemplating. "We talked about the forest beasts, and I brought up the recent attack," she continued. "He seemed reluctant to discuss it at first, but I pressed him and he eventually admitted that they could be doing more to ensure our borders are safe."
I nodded in surprise. "He is a very sensible ellon," I remarked. "Willing to listen to reason, and capable of easily admitting a wrong when he is found culpable." Unlike his father, a rebellious part of me echoed silently.
But Chalia shifted her gaze back to mine. "That's right," she remembered. "You must speak with him frequently on all manner of subjects."
"Some," I admitted. The conversation was straying into some unknown territory I wasn't sure I liked, though I could not discern why.
She shrugged. "Well, anyway. I am to be tested, and soon. This horrible feeling that I have failed to obey some cosmic directive is easing a little. It will be so gratifying to know I have done well by our kingdom."
"Good," I replied easily. "I will be eagerly watching your progress. I support you in all things, and wish for your safety and happiness above all."
