Irulan dreamt about Legolas that night. She dreamt that they were walking
through dark, tall stone corridors, lined with torches. It was as silent as
a tomb and her soft footfalls were the only sound echoing in the dream,
while Legolas walked beside her soundlessly. Even though she felt elated to
have him with her, the walls frightened her and Irulan felt caged and
depressed. They walked and walked as the corridor winded around and around,
seemingly without end.
"Would you not stay with me?" Legolas said finally as she once again thought about how depressing it was in here.
"Would you not come with me?" she said to that, thinking that surely the elf needed to leave this place as much as she did.
Legolas remained standing at that, and looked down at her. His eyes were so different in this light. There was sadness and pain in them, and yet also a blank determination that evaded her understanding. She waited for him to speak up, but he did not. Finally she shifted on her feet in unease and realized that the corridor had changed after all - it was splitting in two and Irulan looked into the dark ends of the two mirror images.
"Where do we go?" she said, feeling very anxious now, for no reason at all. The darkness and the stagnant air, along with the silent gaze of the elf made her very uneasy.
"Wherever we go, we can not part," he said then and she followed his gaze only to see that she was tied to him with silver shackles on her right wrist. Uttering a gasp she pulled and picked at it, while the elf regarded her in silence. It would not let go! She felt the metal biting into her wrist, scratching it and hurting her.
"Undo it!" she yelped in frustration.
"I can not," he said slowly, "it is not of my doing."
Irulan kept pulling at the shackles hard enough for them to finally cut into her flesh. Merely moments later the cuts swelled an ugly red before they began to bleed ferociously. "Legolas!" she said, "Undo them! Now!"
"It is too late, Irulan," was his quiet reply as he locked eyes with her. She almost shivered at the intensity of his gaze. "Too late."
Irulan woke with a start and unconsciously began to rub her wrists. She scrambled from her bed, past her usual time to begin the tiring day that lay ahead of her, but even though the sun was glaring in an impish and beautiful summer sky when she stepped out of the basement, she failed to shake off the dread and desperation that had descended on her.
*****
"Finally Her Majesty has arrived!" sighed Eowyn as she stepped into the clearing.
Both Chemarit and the old man who was sitting across him looked up at that. "Irulan! What is that horrible expression on your face?" protested Chemarit.
Irulan just kept walking toward them and waved her hand dismissively. "I am in no good mood today, Chemarit."
"AGAIN!?" moaned Eowyn and Irulan just glared at her as she sank on the grass next to her.
"You do not sleep well, do you?"
"I sleep very well, thank you," Irulan snapped with a tense tone.
Her friend regarded her with a long, dubious look. "If I didn't know better, I would say that something is eating you."
"Yes and she is certainly most annoying."
"You have dark circles under your eyes and look definitely exhausted. And...you lost some weight, you know?" the blonde girl continued, seemingly unaffected by her sourness.
Irulan looked away. It was true, she had seen it in the mirror herself, today. The tiring marathon that her family was putting her through along with her nightly meetings with the Prince were taking their toll on her. She squinted her eyes and swept her gaze around the clearing, for the sake of leaving the comment unanswered. That action made her eyes collide with those of the old man, who removed the pipe from his mouth and grinned deftly.
"Lady Irulan! What a pleasure to finally meet you! I have heard about you for too long now," he said and Irulan found herself amazed by this man. She swiftly looked him up and down to understand the reason for her sudden liking of him, but found no reason or indication for it. He wore a blue- grey robe and his pointed hat lay on the grass beside him, looking older than Middle Earth itself. A staff was leaning on the tree bark a few feet away and his long, unruly grey-white hair was mixed with his equally long beard. She looked up to his twinkling blue eyes again, a slight frown on her face.
The man patiently waited for her to finish the inspection, then replaced his pipe and continued his merry smoking. "You know mine, but I do not know your name," she said finally, still unable to shake the odd liking and trying very hard to sound cold and distant.
"Ah, how rude of me!" he exclaimed as his blue gaze rested on her again. "I am getting old, no doubt! Gandalf is my name, dear friend."
Irulan regarded him for another moment before she turned to Chemarit. "THIS is Gandalf?!"
"Yes, the old goat himself! He has come to observe this Ball," groaned Chemarit in disinterest and gazed at the sky.
"So Chemarit has mentioned me!"
"Well of course!" Irulan said, now unable to keep the excitement from her voice. "He told me that you are a constant traveler. A wanderer of Middle Earth. That you have gone to many places and seen more than anyone else!"
"Indeed, I have seen a lot," mused the old man, a smile on his lips. "Still, there is much more to see."
Irulan groaned with glee at that. "I mean to travel too, you know," she said hastily and watched the man's eyes widen with amusement. "Yes! Perhaps in a few days' time, too," she added. "I have never been farther than two towns from here. Is Middle Earth really as big as they say it is?"
"Oh, it is grand, my dear!"
"I want to go everywhere!" Irulan yelled, beyond herself.
Gandalf laughed out loud at that. "What a spirit!"
Chemarit snickered. "Tell me about it! And Eowyn here was talking about how tired she looks!" He snickered again.
Eowyn shook her head, smiling. "Not when it comes to dreaming, she is not."
"Who is talking about dreaming! I will go, you know that."
"Well, you still have the Ball before you. And since you might die from such an unusual act as socializing, you might end up not going, anyway."
Irulan stuck out her tongue. Eowyn mimicked her. Chemarit and Gandalf shared a meaningful glance and decided silently to ignore the childish action.
"So you will be attending the Ball, too?" Irulan asked, turning to their visitor once more.
"It sounds interesting. Everyone is coming, it seems. Legolas must be frustrated beyond his wits!"
Irulan looked away at the mention of his name, afraid that -though it made no sense at all- someone might, in a miraculous way see through her disguise. And indeed, Gandalf gave her an odd look, narrowing his eyes, but thankfully Eowyn spoke up at that moment: "Legolas? You forgot the title, I think, old man."
The wanderer just chuckled. "He was merely an elfling when I first laid eyes on him and no matter what, when one sees a king so, it becomes impossible to see him as Your Highness. He will always remain Legolas to me, I'm afraid."
"You know him that well?" asked Irulan, baffled and oddly alarmed. Gandalf gave her another inspecting look and only nodded to that. Feeling even more uneasy now, she looked away again and began to rip grass.
"Irulan insulted him, you know."
"Eowyn!"
"What?" was the innocent response. "Is it not true?"
"Oh my!" said Gandalf in amusement and mock shock. "How did THAT happen?"
Irulan rolled her eyes and felt herself blushing despite all her control as Eowyn and Chemarit began to tell that dreadful tale again. No need to say that they exaggerated -as they did with each and every time- and Irulan had to intervene several times to say that no, the Prince had not chased her and no, he had not stammered when he gazed into her eyes and no, he had not insisted that she should visit him in the castle as soon as possible. Gandalf regarded her with a cocked head all the time and showed utmost interest in the tale. Finally, unable to take it any longer, she sprang to her feet, a sudden dislike taking replacing her admiration for the man, although her logic kept repeating that there was no way for him to sense something as far-fetched as her meetings with the Prince.
"I have things to do!" she mumbled and not waiting for a reply, hastily walked away.
All three remained staring after her. "She is acting so strange lately," murmured Eowyn, for the first time showing concern since Irulan's state was not changing as she had hoped it would. She turned to Chemarit who was watching the swaying branches above. "Did you hear me, Chemarit? She has become so strange."
"I never noticed her becoming anything else in the first place" was the dreamy reply.
"I mean it!"
"So do I! It is the Ball, Eowyn."
The girl did not say anything for a while. "What if it is something else?"
"Like what?"
She shrugged and looked towards the direction her friend had disappeared.
"Perhaps it's her boyfriend," Gandalf said suddenly. Eowyn and Chemarit looked at each other and a moment later broke into a soft laughter.
"She does not have a boyfriend, Gandalf," Chemarit chuckled.
"Oh really?" He sucked a little on his pipe. "I could have sworn that she did."
Chemarit shook his head as the grin spread on his face. "You are worse than me! Ever the romantic!"
"No. You are the romantic," the man replied dryly, "I am the meddler, that's all."
****
Irulan climbed the hill with great effort and for a moment actually felt rather dizzy. She had not found the chance to rest the whole day as her stepmother mercilessly had her cleaning the bathroom, down to the finest detail. She felt her vision darken and told herself that it was only the darkness of the night, nothing else. But in her heart, she knew that Eowyn was right. She had begun to get sick with the effort and the tension and all the conspiracy as well. 'That darn Ball is going to be the end of me!' she thought in bitter desperation and afraid to fall on her face, sat on the ground to clear her vision again.
She heard Legolas softly calling her name then and a moment later he was kneeling by her side. How he had appeared there so fast, was beyond her. He looked at her face with great suspicion, then leaned back a little, giving her an overall look. "Are you ill?". Legolas had no experience with illness, but had of course observed it on the humans around him. It remained a state of mysterious terror to him and made him extremely anxious because it was beyond his elven understanding and nature.
"No," Irulan said and smiled softly, knowing that he could see her easily enough under the moonlight. "Just tired."
The elf looked at her for a long dubious minute. "You seem thinner...and weaker every time I see you," was his late statement.
"Oh don't start!" Irulan moaned, rolling her eyes, "I have been lectured about the very same thing today by another."
"So it is true!"
She shook her head again and proceeded to rise. "I am well. I have survived worse." Legolas was already on his feet, grasping her elbow and softly pulling her up. He fell in step beside her as they walked further into the woods and Irulan realized that he did not let go of her arm.
"Though I am certain that you have, it is no reason to over-exert yourself so. Perhaps I should join you in your room from now on and...-"
"NO!" The Prince blinked with surprise and turned to her, very slowly crossing his arms on his chest. "I...I don't like that room. I would prefer to be out here," she said finally. He could not argue with that, so he sighed and fell in step beside her again.
"I am worried for you, Irulan. It is not right or just for you to live like this. I'm afraid I will not be able to keep myself from intervening, soon."
"Intervening?" was her question, her tone reflecting her bafflement. The Prince nodded and kept his gaze ahead. Irulan could not help a loud gulp. "What exactly does that mean?"
"It means that I will stride into your house, and take you back with me to the palace against your wish," was his cool answer.
"What?! You dare not!" She felt terrified of such an option and yet at the same time also oddly excited.
He gave her a long, cold look. "And who would stop me?" he said a moment later with a low voice. "Who would question me? Who would object?"
"Well...I, for one, would!"
Legolas chuckled at that. "Yes, and once again it would prove you only to be unique, I suppose," was his soft reply.
Irulan did not speak for a while, then a grin crept up her face. She squinted her eyes to look into the distance and leisurely added: "Besides...I doubt that your wife would like that."
"My wife?!" was the shocked exclamation as the elf almost missed a step.
Irulan, overjoyed by his unusual shock and clumsiness, suppressed a laughter, and went on with disinterest. "Yes. The one you will marry after this Ball." It was amazing how with each meeting and each conversation they were becoming more comfortable around each other. Soon enough Irulan suspected that she would address him like she would address Chemarit, or Eowyn. And that was not even the horrible part! The horrible part was that the Prince would probably enjoy that immensely!
Legolas exhaled bitterly and pinched the bridge of his nose, keeping silent. "Oh so now you don't object anymore!" was her amused observation. "I can see that the idea is growing on you, Legolas."
The elf shrugged deftly and gave her a sidelong glance. "As a matter of fact, it is."
Irulan offered him a sarcastic smirk. However, at the serious expression on his face, her amusement ended with a gasp of surprise and she remained looking at him agape. Finally Legolas returned her look with raised eyebrows. "What is it?" was his casual question.
"You want to get married?!"
"I never said the contrary," he said, his tone matter-of-fact.
She realized that it was true - he had only complained about the Ball, never the marriage itself. And why did that make her feel so...itchy? "Fine," was her final comment as she tore her gaze away. "Do get married then. Big deal!"
Legolas observed her for a few minutes and found her reaction most peculiar. She seemed rather disturbed by that news. And it made him incredibly happy. He dared not think that at the moment Irulan actually liked him the way he had so desperately begun to like her, but he realized that if he fought hard enough, she had it in her to do so.
The Prince suddenly realized then that he had never really pursued a woman like this, before. Legolas was not naïve. Neither was he a fool. He was well aware of both his looks and his title and what the combination of those accomplished in the world around him. True, he was an elf and a royalty raised with incredibly good manners, so it had never occurred to him to use these things to his advantage - especially in relationships. But it did not mean that he was not aware of the number of women throwing themselves at his feet.
And again, being an elf, it was only natural that -though he reveled in beauty and admired it- physical attractiveness was not important for him when it came to women. Or yet better said, his concepts of beauty and charm were quite different from what they were for his human counterparts. The reason for that being that elves had an unique gift of seeing beyond the surface of things. He glanced at Irulan again and understood that he enjoyed the pursuit more than anything. It brought something out in him...A different side that had not been evoked by anyone else, before.
"Why do you object to such a union with so much fervor?" he said finally, his heart beating with joy at her grumpy expression.
Irulan only shrugged. "A man can not understand it."
"Perhaps I can?"
"I doubt it," she said flatly, still not looking at him.
"Please explain."
"All right," she shot back and turned to him with hot fury, having waited for this opportunity and glad that he had insisted. "Because marriage is not to a woman what it is for a man, that's why!"
Legolas kept staring down at her with those blank blue eyes. "What is it for a woman?" was the late question.
"A cage," retorted Irulan curtly.
"I beg your pardon?"
"You heard me. I said 'cage'."
A moment later she realized that he was not walking next to her anymore and turned around to find him standing a few feet behind, staring with disbelief. She pushed up her chin and clasped her hands behind her, staring right back. After many moments of cold confrontation Legolas finally growled "You can not seriously believe that."
"Oh but I do."
He took a deep breath and clenched his jaw. "Explain!"
Irulan momentarily flinched at the tone of command and for an instant remembered him to be the ruler of Ithilien. But with the discussion at hand, it was only temporary. For after all, he was also a man. "I told you that you would not understand," she said as casually as possible. "Men marry and gain a partner. Or a servant." She watched his eyes widen slightly at that and continued in a dismissive manner: "Women marry and gain a master. Or..." -a bitter smile followed- "a guard!"
The Prince took a step towards her. "That is not true," he said with a low voice.
"You know it is," was her growl of a response.
He took another step and Irulan had to force herself to remain where she was, even though he looked quite dangerous at the moment.
"You are generalizing. Prejudice again, Irulan?" he countered with slight amusement.
"No. Observation," she said briskly and watched him slightly cock his head.
"You may be right in some occasions. But do not speak for the whole male gender."
"Show me an exception, then," was her defensive answer as she crossed her arms on her chest.
Legolas looked at her for a long moment, and it was such a peculiar look that she began to feel uncomfortable. "I would not treat my wife so."
Irulan, in expectation of that answer, huffed a sarcastic "Hah! Of course!"
He raised an eyebrow. "You do not believe me," he said with a soft, surprised tone.
"No offense, Legolas, but no man would accept that statement."
The elf took another step towards her and this time Irulan DID step back, despite herself. "You are making unjust assumptions," was his final reply, his reaction perhaps too emotional for a matter like this.
"Very well. Let me ask you a question then..." With that Irulan began to walk back and forth in a horizontal line in the soft, waist-high grass of the clearing as the elf remained in silent observation of her. "Let us assume you are married." She glanced at him and he pushed up his chin and nodded curtly. "And you love your wife very much."
"Naturally. Since I have married her," was his dry intervention.
Irulan ignored his statement. "You want to make her happy. Would you allow her to do whatever she wants?"
"Such as?"
"Aha!" she yelped with triumph. "So there are things that you would NOT allow!"
"Well..." began Legolas, his tone slightly uneasy, "...I did not say that. I asked what those 'things' would be. It is a normal and fair question."
Irulan gave him a sly and dubious look. "Let us assume then..." she began, and Legolas suddenly understood what Gimli meant when he said that women were far better fighters. Irulan looked downright dangerous at the moment. "...that she is a very free-spirited person." Another nod from Legolas.
She halted momentarily. Now this was not a good example. Not good at all. She swallowed softly, realizing that unconsciously she had drifted into a tender area. And she did not want to give the elf the wrong impression. She bit her lower lip, growing a little anxious.
"Yes?" he said when her hesitation continued for several moments.
Her head jerked up at that nudge and she nervously smoothed her skirts, avoiding eye contact. "What was I saying?" She said with mock confusion, hoping that Legolas would not remember.
But of course such a thing was impossible. "You were elaborating about my free-spirited wife," he said with a smile.
"Oh...yes. Well...so she is!" she exhaled, fighting to lose the nervous tone in her voice and slowly succeeding in doing so. "She does not want to be tied down or anything. She wants to...well...do other things."
The elf cocked his head in amusement. "Once again...such as?"
"Such as..." began Irulan and shrugged casually, continuing to pace once more, "...you know...traveling...adventures, and things like that."
"That is a very peculiar wife," Legolas laughed softly.
The woman stopped in mid-track and gave him a furious look. He held her gaze and took another step towards her. "Yes, Irulan?" was his husky and amused question that made her shiver for no reason at all.
"I'm trying to make a point here! It's only normal that I would not pick an ordinary example but someone like... like me! Simply because it is MY opinion on the matter and I am trying to prove you why *I* don't believe in marriage!" she burst. A moment later she congratulated herself. It made sense! In a weird way.
Legolas pursed his lips and clasping his own hands behind him, said softly: "Yes, of course. Please continue." However, the twinkle in his eyes remained and for the first time since she had met him, Irulan felt the desire to stride over and choke him to death.
"All right," she began again, then could not help herself from adding hastily: "But this someone is NOT me! It is just someone LIKE me."
"Of course," was the matter-of-fact response and she urge to choke him only grew stronger at that. If she had known that Legolas was beyond himself with ecstasy, perhaps her fury would have been replaced by amazement and embarrassment.
She took a deep breath and kept pacing. "So anyway...Would you allow her to go away on such adventures while you remained behind?"
The Prince thought in silence for a moment. "Why can't we go together?"
"Well you are busy being the king, that's why."
"A queen would be busy, too."
Irulan rolled her eyes. "Yes but she is free-spirited."
"And I am not?"
"Legolas!" He shrugged in all innocence, once again enjoying the childish debate with sharp and unparalleled pleasure. "Let us just presume that you can not go," she seethed.
"Very well. In that case, yes, I would of course grant her such freedom. It is only natural."
"You lie!"
The elf blinked with surprise. He had not been called a liar too many times in his life. Especially in that tone. He crossed his arms across his chest again. "I do not," he said slowly, his tone both daring and careful. "But I suppose it is easier for you to say that than to accept the fact that you are mistaken about me."
Irulan swallowed. She had just called the Ruler of the Seven Districts and the sole heir of the Nine Tribes a liar. He didn't want to be treated like a Prince, but her behavior was still VERY unbecoming. "Perhaps I am," she managed to say with a softer tone and Legolas nodded in satisfaction, thinking that the conversation had come to a conclusion and that he had convinced her that he was different from the image of a man in her mind. Feeling very happy and content with that, he attempted to close the distance between them and continue the walk that had been interrupted.
"But..." she began then, and his feet froze, "...I am not finished yet." Her tone said the real torture was just beginning. He pursed his lips and once more pushing up his chin, waited for the next battle. 'This is far easier than I thought,' he mused silently. 'Probably she will ask me now if I will force my wife to do certain things or to be in a certain way!'
Very confident in that assumption, he took a relaxed stance and boring his eyes into her, waited for the question. Irulan gave him one last long look, then began pacing again. This time, it was far slower and idle. "So you will allow her to go..." she mused and gave him a sidelong glance, observing the cool posture of the Prince, "...but what if she intends to go with another?"
The question was so unexpected that Legolas only managed to blink in reply. An odd vortex appeared in his mind then, though he could not exactly understand why that was.
"Another?" he said finally, his mind refusing to analyze with its usual sharpness. Irulan nodded with a smile. "What other?"
"Ah you know,!" was her casual and dismissive sigh.
His eyes narrowed at their own accord. "No, I do not. What other?"
"Well...another person. A friend," was the reply, followed by a sly smile.
That word had been rubbing Legolas the wrong way for a long time now. He clenched his jaws and tried to think straight. But his emotions would not allow him a clear logical process. "What kind of friend?" was the question. He was aware that he was tensing, but felt unable to relax nevertheless.
"How many kinds of friends are there?" Irulan said with a tinge of exasperation. "Him and her have...-"
"This friend is a MAN?!"
She looked at him with bafflement and even the elf himself realized that his tone of voice was far too emotional for such a simple and innocent conversation. Only, in his mind, this conversation was swiftly becoming something far less than innocent.
"Yes. So?"
Legolas took a deep breath and looked away. All he wanted to do was to tell her that she had been right about anything and everything and end this conversation. For it was doing strange things to him and he was helpless in preventing it. Instead, though, other words flew out: "Nothing. Continue."
"All right. Him and her...-"
"Does he have feelings for my wife?!" he bolted suddenly, his tone laced with anger. After clear surprise settled on her features, he blinked and added, "For her, I mean."
"Well..." Irulan began, a little puzzled. She looked up to the evening sky, thinking that maybe it was time to change the subject, for Legolas was reacting in such a strange way. It could be that he was reacting out of a past experience, for instance. She should be kind and mature and let it go. Taking advantage of a weakness like that was most unbecoming. Yes, she should definitely change the subject. "Well, yes," she finished, thinking that she was a woman after all and that women were cruel until the very last breath.
The elf's eyes widened slightly at that and he unconsciously took a step towards her. "What kind of feelings?" he whispered with an edgy voice.
Irulan shrugged again. "He likes her." Once again she thought of letting it go, then added: "A lot."
The blue fire that set in on Legolas' gaze was certainly not what she expected. She swallowed softly as he fixed her for what seemed like eternity, then growled "He wants to go to...adventures with MY wife?" with a tone, frostier than any man could muster.
Irulan only managed a dumbfounded nod in reply. Then, thinking that she should not push things too much further, hastily added "Yes but she...she is loyal to you, Legolas! She is trustworthy. This is your wife we are talking about here, for Heaven's sake! She would never...-"
"No."
"Excuse me?"
"I said no. There is your answer. No." Legolas said, his chest aching with something unexplainably hot.
"NO?!"
"Precisely," was the elf's dry reply. "I forbid it."
"You what?!"
"Am I not being clear enough?" was his dangerous question.
Irulan blinked with surprise and shock and a moment later found the strength to raise her voice: "You do not trust your OWN wife?"
"I trust her completely. It is HIM that I do not trust. And for good reason too! What kind of 'friend' would engage in such a thing?!"
"Oh so now *I* am not the one who is making general assumptions about the male gender!" Legolas had to fight with all his might to keep his mouth from dropping open. She was so....right! But that did not change the facts. Not a bit. "A little prejudiced, aren't we?" Irulan continued with slight amusement, although the humor of the situation was running dry.
"As you have said before, it is more a result of observation," was his cool response.
"So you will take that choice away from her..." she said slowly and with obvious disbelief, looking him up and down and wondering what was making him so sensitive about the issue. "What if she insists?!" was her sudden and louder addition.
"She INSISTS?!"
"Yes. She wants to go, period."
"Then I shall eliminate this man!" Legolas said and his voice rang with such force that Irulan immediately decided to change the subject and never mention it again.
"All right. Point taken. You are ri-...ELIMINATE him?" she said in amazement. "Whatever does that me-"
"It means..." seethed the elf and began to stride towards her as Irulan became extremely uneasy and walked back timidly. "...that I shall erase him from this world so utterly, that none in Middle Earth will even remember a SINGLE thing about him!"
A moment later he stood looming above her and as Irulan gazed up into the eyes of the elf, all rational thought deserted her. Suddenly she understood what the enemies of Ithilien saw right before they were killed. It was this...this creature. This force. She would not dare to define him as a mere man then - for something so powerful was emanating from Legolas, that just the sight of him would cause a wave of tremble around him. She had heard all about his skill at war and how he was ever victorious and unsurpassable. But until this minute, it had been a string of empty -and probably exaggerating- words. Who knew they were very, very true?
"Does my wife have feelings for this man, too?" he said suddenly, and Irulan felt like she would faint from her effort to breathe. She gulped audibly and tried to move away, but her muscles refused to obey.
"Does she?!" he shouted and she jumped despite herself.
"Wha-Legolas! This is ridiculous!" She tried to move back again, but only managed a single step, which Legolas covered easily enough.
"I have asked a simple question," he seethed. "Why won't you answer?"
"No! For the love of the Valar, she does not!" she yelled, wishing to end this madness more than anything else.
Legolas blinked and gave her a long look at her. So long, that Irulan felt her muscles ache from remaining so tensely in the same position. "That is...good to know," he whispered then, and his tone seemed softer. Although she had no intentions of trusting such a sign. She took another step back and only then managed a shaky breath.
"Your wife, Legolas -whoever out-of-her-mind woman that will be- will probably JOIN you in his 'elimination'!" she yelped with a mixture of both fear and anger.
He took a deep breath and remained silent for a long time as his senses whirled in a mad dance and the world seemed to shake with their intensity. In his entire life, he had never been engaged in any conversation or debate that had made him lose his control and calm. Not even Lord Haldir had managed to succeed in that! 'I am not invincible, after all,' he thought bitterly and looked up to a terrified Irulan who was watching him with narrowed eyes. "I am sorry. Please forgive me," was his quiet statement. "That was very...uncalled for."
"I thought you had gone mad, Legolas!" Irulan managed to say, trying to shake off her terror.
'Honestly, so did I,' he thought as he ran his hand through his hair with desperation. "Please say you do forgive me," he whispered again a moment later, and he could not remember ever begging for forgiveness like that. Of course he could not remember ever losing control like that, either. For the first time since he had set eyes on her, Legolas realized that, as much as she could be a supportive one, Irulan could also be an incredible hazardous factor in his life. Just like she was able to erase all his sadness and sorrow, if she chose to do so, she seemed to be very capable in erasing all his happiness and joy as well.
And why would that...relieve him? Legolas remained still, feeling utterly confused and surprised of this odd emotion. Why would that -instead of making him feel weak and desperate- make him feel like, after all, he too, was slave to another, servant to a master and...lighter for it? Why, in the name of Valar, would he think that being at the whim of Irulan was so...ecstatic? Why was it not a disturbing and frightening idea that, as masses kneeled to him, he would kneel to her?!
"There is nothing to forgive," she said, tryin to sound as casual as possible. She was aware of his discomfort and felt ashamed of having brought it upon him. A tense silence came between them while both Irulan and Legolas tried to analyze the strange mutation this elf was going through - without success. "You have been reading it, haven't you?" was her sudden question.
Legolas looked up in surprise. "Reading what?" he said, a trifle disturbed.
Irulan rolled her eyes. "Master Gimli's book of course!"
"Well I..."
"I knew it!"
Legolas pushed up his chin and looked into the forest. "It is a good book."
"Legolas, the book might be good but the timing is beyond horrible!" Irulan moaned. "I mean...right before the BALL, you read this...this war-cry of a book! And look what it does to you!"
"What does it do to me?" retorted the elf, his tone cool and calm. When Irulan clenched her jaws and kept staring at him, he sighed in defeat. "I must admit that it is a little...provoking. However, that does not hinder its usefulness."
She shook her head and turned around to resume her walk and the elf jogged to join her side. They did not speak again until they reached Arod, each wondering in silence what madness had taken hold of their hearts tonight, and neither knowing that it was the very same thing that made the universe pulsate with life.
***
"Would you not stay with me?" Legolas said finally as she once again thought about how depressing it was in here.
"Would you not come with me?" she said to that, thinking that surely the elf needed to leave this place as much as she did.
Legolas remained standing at that, and looked down at her. His eyes were so different in this light. There was sadness and pain in them, and yet also a blank determination that evaded her understanding. She waited for him to speak up, but he did not. Finally she shifted on her feet in unease and realized that the corridor had changed after all - it was splitting in two and Irulan looked into the dark ends of the two mirror images.
"Where do we go?" she said, feeling very anxious now, for no reason at all. The darkness and the stagnant air, along with the silent gaze of the elf made her very uneasy.
"Wherever we go, we can not part," he said then and she followed his gaze only to see that she was tied to him with silver shackles on her right wrist. Uttering a gasp she pulled and picked at it, while the elf regarded her in silence. It would not let go! She felt the metal biting into her wrist, scratching it and hurting her.
"Undo it!" she yelped in frustration.
"I can not," he said slowly, "it is not of my doing."
Irulan kept pulling at the shackles hard enough for them to finally cut into her flesh. Merely moments later the cuts swelled an ugly red before they began to bleed ferociously. "Legolas!" she said, "Undo them! Now!"
"It is too late, Irulan," was his quiet reply as he locked eyes with her. She almost shivered at the intensity of his gaze. "Too late."
Irulan woke with a start and unconsciously began to rub her wrists. She scrambled from her bed, past her usual time to begin the tiring day that lay ahead of her, but even though the sun was glaring in an impish and beautiful summer sky when she stepped out of the basement, she failed to shake off the dread and desperation that had descended on her.
*****
"Finally Her Majesty has arrived!" sighed Eowyn as she stepped into the clearing.
Both Chemarit and the old man who was sitting across him looked up at that. "Irulan! What is that horrible expression on your face?" protested Chemarit.
Irulan just kept walking toward them and waved her hand dismissively. "I am in no good mood today, Chemarit."
"AGAIN!?" moaned Eowyn and Irulan just glared at her as she sank on the grass next to her.
"You do not sleep well, do you?"
"I sleep very well, thank you," Irulan snapped with a tense tone.
Her friend regarded her with a long, dubious look. "If I didn't know better, I would say that something is eating you."
"Yes and she is certainly most annoying."
"You have dark circles under your eyes and look definitely exhausted. And...you lost some weight, you know?" the blonde girl continued, seemingly unaffected by her sourness.
Irulan looked away. It was true, she had seen it in the mirror herself, today. The tiring marathon that her family was putting her through along with her nightly meetings with the Prince were taking their toll on her. She squinted her eyes and swept her gaze around the clearing, for the sake of leaving the comment unanswered. That action made her eyes collide with those of the old man, who removed the pipe from his mouth and grinned deftly.
"Lady Irulan! What a pleasure to finally meet you! I have heard about you for too long now," he said and Irulan found herself amazed by this man. She swiftly looked him up and down to understand the reason for her sudden liking of him, but found no reason or indication for it. He wore a blue- grey robe and his pointed hat lay on the grass beside him, looking older than Middle Earth itself. A staff was leaning on the tree bark a few feet away and his long, unruly grey-white hair was mixed with his equally long beard. She looked up to his twinkling blue eyes again, a slight frown on her face.
The man patiently waited for her to finish the inspection, then replaced his pipe and continued his merry smoking. "You know mine, but I do not know your name," she said finally, still unable to shake the odd liking and trying very hard to sound cold and distant.
"Ah, how rude of me!" he exclaimed as his blue gaze rested on her again. "I am getting old, no doubt! Gandalf is my name, dear friend."
Irulan regarded him for another moment before she turned to Chemarit. "THIS is Gandalf?!"
"Yes, the old goat himself! He has come to observe this Ball," groaned Chemarit in disinterest and gazed at the sky.
"So Chemarit has mentioned me!"
"Well of course!" Irulan said, now unable to keep the excitement from her voice. "He told me that you are a constant traveler. A wanderer of Middle Earth. That you have gone to many places and seen more than anyone else!"
"Indeed, I have seen a lot," mused the old man, a smile on his lips. "Still, there is much more to see."
Irulan groaned with glee at that. "I mean to travel too, you know," she said hastily and watched the man's eyes widen with amusement. "Yes! Perhaps in a few days' time, too," she added. "I have never been farther than two towns from here. Is Middle Earth really as big as they say it is?"
"Oh, it is grand, my dear!"
"I want to go everywhere!" Irulan yelled, beyond herself.
Gandalf laughed out loud at that. "What a spirit!"
Chemarit snickered. "Tell me about it! And Eowyn here was talking about how tired she looks!" He snickered again.
Eowyn shook her head, smiling. "Not when it comes to dreaming, she is not."
"Who is talking about dreaming! I will go, you know that."
"Well, you still have the Ball before you. And since you might die from such an unusual act as socializing, you might end up not going, anyway."
Irulan stuck out her tongue. Eowyn mimicked her. Chemarit and Gandalf shared a meaningful glance and decided silently to ignore the childish action.
"So you will be attending the Ball, too?" Irulan asked, turning to their visitor once more.
"It sounds interesting. Everyone is coming, it seems. Legolas must be frustrated beyond his wits!"
Irulan looked away at the mention of his name, afraid that -though it made no sense at all- someone might, in a miraculous way see through her disguise. And indeed, Gandalf gave her an odd look, narrowing his eyes, but thankfully Eowyn spoke up at that moment: "Legolas? You forgot the title, I think, old man."
The wanderer just chuckled. "He was merely an elfling when I first laid eyes on him and no matter what, when one sees a king so, it becomes impossible to see him as Your Highness. He will always remain Legolas to me, I'm afraid."
"You know him that well?" asked Irulan, baffled and oddly alarmed. Gandalf gave her another inspecting look and only nodded to that. Feeling even more uneasy now, she looked away again and began to rip grass.
"Irulan insulted him, you know."
"Eowyn!"
"What?" was the innocent response. "Is it not true?"
"Oh my!" said Gandalf in amusement and mock shock. "How did THAT happen?"
Irulan rolled her eyes and felt herself blushing despite all her control as Eowyn and Chemarit began to tell that dreadful tale again. No need to say that they exaggerated -as they did with each and every time- and Irulan had to intervene several times to say that no, the Prince had not chased her and no, he had not stammered when he gazed into her eyes and no, he had not insisted that she should visit him in the castle as soon as possible. Gandalf regarded her with a cocked head all the time and showed utmost interest in the tale. Finally, unable to take it any longer, she sprang to her feet, a sudden dislike taking replacing her admiration for the man, although her logic kept repeating that there was no way for him to sense something as far-fetched as her meetings with the Prince.
"I have things to do!" she mumbled and not waiting for a reply, hastily walked away.
All three remained staring after her. "She is acting so strange lately," murmured Eowyn, for the first time showing concern since Irulan's state was not changing as she had hoped it would. She turned to Chemarit who was watching the swaying branches above. "Did you hear me, Chemarit? She has become so strange."
"I never noticed her becoming anything else in the first place" was the dreamy reply.
"I mean it!"
"So do I! It is the Ball, Eowyn."
The girl did not say anything for a while. "What if it is something else?"
"Like what?"
She shrugged and looked towards the direction her friend had disappeared.
"Perhaps it's her boyfriend," Gandalf said suddenly. Eowyn and Chemarit looked at each other and a moment later broke into a soft laughter.
"She does not have a boyfriend, Gandalf," Chemarit chuckled.
"Oh really?" He sucked a little on his pipe. "I could have sworn that she did."
Chemarit shook his head as the grin spread on his face. "You are worse than me! Ever the romantic!"
"No. You are the romantic," the man replied dryly, "I am the meddler, that's all."
****
Irulan climbed the hill with great effort and for a moment actually felt rather dizzy. She had not found the chance to rest the whole day as her stepmother mercilessly had her cleaning the bathroom, down to the finest detail. She felt her vision darken and told herself that it was only the darkness of the night, nothing else. But in her heart, she knew that Eowyn was right. She had begun to get sick with the effort and the tension and all the conspiracy as well. 'That darn Ball is going to be the end of me!' she thought in bitter desperation and afraid to fall on her face, sat on the ground to clear her vision again.
She heard Legolas softly calling her name then and a moment later he was kneeling by her side. How he had appeared there so fast, was beyond her. He looked at her face with great suspicion, then leaned back a little, giving her an overall look. "Are you ill?". Legolas had no experience with illness, but had of course observed it on the humans around him. It remained a state of mysterious terror to him and made him extremely anxious because it was beyond his elven understanding and nature.
"No," Irulan said and smiled softly, knowing that he could see her easily enough under the moonlight. "Just tired."
The elf looked at her for a long dubious minute. "You seem thinner...and weaker every time I see you," was his late statement.
"Oh don't start!" Irulan moaned, rolling her eyes, "I have been lectured about the very same thing today by another."
"So it is true!"
She shook her head again and proceeded to rise. "I am well. I have survived worse." Legolas was already on his feet, grasping her elbow and softly pulling her up. He fell in step beside her as they walked further into the woods and Irulan realized that he did not let go of her arm.
"Though I am certain that you have, it is no reason to over-exert yourself so. Perhaps I should join you in your room from now on and...-"
"NO!" The Prince blinked with surprise and turned to her, very slowly crossing his arms on his chest. "I...I don't like that room. I would prefer to be out here," she said finally. He could not argue with that, so he sighed and fell in step beside her again.
"I am worried for you, Irulan. It is not right or just for you to live like this. I'm afraid I will not be able to keep myself from intervening, soon."
"Intervening?" was her question, her tone reflecting her bafflement. The Prince nodded and kept his gaze ahead. Irulan could not help a loud gulp. "What exactly does that mean?"
"It means that I will stride into your house, and take you back with me to the palace against your wish," was his cool answer.
"What?! You dare not!" She felt terrified of such an option and yet at the same time also oddly excited.
He gave her a long, cold look. "And who would stop me?" he said a moment later with a low voice. "Who would question me? Who would object?"
"Well...I, for one, would!"
Legolas chuckled at that. "Yes, and once again it would prove you only to be unique, I suppose," was his soft reply.
Irulan did not speak for a while, then a grin crept up her face. She squinted her eyes to look into the distance and leisurely added: "Besides...I doubt that your wife would like that."
"My wife?!" was the shocked exclamation as the elf almost missed a step.
Irulan, overjoyed by his unusual shock and clumsiness, suppressed a laughter, and went on with disinterest. "Yes. The one you will marry after this Ball." It was amazing how with each meeting and each conversation they were becoming more comfortable around each other. Soon enough Irulan suspected that she would address him like she would address Chemarit, or Eowyn. And that was not even the horrible part! The horrible part was that the Prince would probably enjoy that immensely!
Legolas exhaled bitterly and pinched the bridge of his nose, keeping silent. "Oh so now you don't object anymore!" was her amused observation. "I can see that the idea is growing on you, Legolas."
The elf shrugged deftly and gave her a sidelong glance. "As a matter of fact, it is."
Irulan offered him a sarcastic smirk. However, at the serious expression on his face, her amusement ended with a gasp of surprise and she remained looking at him agape. Finally Legolas returned her look with raised eyebrows. "What is it?" was his casual question.
"You want to get married?!"
"I never said the contrary," he said, his tone matter-of-fact.
She realized that it was true - he had only complained about the Ball, never the marriage itself. And why did that make her feel so...itchy? "Fine," was her final comment as she tore her gaze away. "Do get married then. Big deal!"
Legolas observed her for a few minutes and found her reaction most peculiar. She seemed rather disturbed by that news. And it made him incredibly happy. He dared not think that at the moment Irulan actually liked him the way he had so desperately begun to like her, but he realized that if he fought hard enough, she had it in her to do so.
The Prince suddenly realized then that he had never really pursued a woman like this, before. Legolas was not naïve. Neither was he a fool. He was well aware of both his looks and his title and what the combination of those accomplished in the world around him. True, he was an elf and a royalty raised with incredibly good manners, so it had never occurred to him to use these things to his advantage - especially in relationships. But it did not mean that he was not aware of the number of women throwing themselves at his feet.
And again, being an elf, it was only natural that -though he reveled in beauty and admired it- physical attractiveness was not important for him when it came to women. Or yet better said, his concepts of beauty and charm were quite different from what they were for his human counterparts. The reason for that being that elves had an unique gift of seeing beyond the surface of things. He glanced at Irulan again and understood that he enjoyed the pursuit more than anything. It brought something out in him...A different side that had not been evoked by anyone else, before.
"Why do you object to such a union with so much fervor?" he said finally, his heart beating with joy at her grumpy expression.
Irulan only shrugged. "A man can not understand it."
"Perhaps I can?"
"I doubt it," she said flatly, still not looking at him.
"Please explain."
"All right," she shot back and turned to him with hot fury, having waited for this opportunity and glad that he had insisted. "Because marriage is not to a woman what it is for a man, that's why!"
Legolas kept staring down at her with those blank blue eyes. "What is it for a woman?" was the late question.
"A cage," retorted Irulan curtly.
"I beg your pardon?"
"You heard me. I said 'cage'."
A moment later she realized that he was not walking next to her anymore and turned around to find him standing a few feet behind, staring with disbelief. She pushed up her chin and clasped her hands behind her, staring right back. After many moments of cold confrontation Legolas finally growled "You can not seriously believe that."
"Oh but I do."
He took a deep breath and clenched his jaw. "Explain!"
Irulan momentarily flinched at the tone of command and for an instant remembered him to be the ruler of Ithilien. But with the discussion at hand, it was only temporary. For after all, he was also a man. "I told you that you would not understand," she said as casually as possible. "Men marry and gain a partner. Or a servant." She watched his eyes widen slightly at that and continued in a dismissive manner: "Women marry and gain a master. Or..." -a bitter smile followed- "a guard!"
The Prince took a step towards her. "That is not true," he said with a low voice.
"You know it is," was her growl of a response.
He took another step and Irulan had to force herself to remain where she was, even though he looked quite dangerous at the moment.
"You are generalizing. Prejudice again, Irulan?" he countered with slight amusement.
"No. Observation," she said briskly and watched him slightly cock his head.
"You may be right in some occasions. But do not speak for the whole male gender."
"Show me an exception, then," was her defensive answer as she crossed her arms on her chest.
Legolas looked at her for a long moment, and it was such a peculiar look that she began to feel uncomfortable. "I would not treat my wife so."
Irulan, in expectation of that answer, huffed a sarcastic "Hah! Of course!"
He raised an eyebrow. "You do not believe me," he said with a soft, surprised tone.
"No offense, Legolas, but no man would accept that statement."
The elf took another step towards her and this time Irulan DID step back, despite herself. "You are making unjust assumptions," was his final reply, his reaction perhaps too emotional for a matter like this.
"Very well. Let me ask you a question then..." With that Irulan began to walk back and forth in a horizontal line in the soft, waist-high grass of the clearing as the elf remained in silent observation of her. "Let us assume you are married." She glanced at him and he pushed up his chin and nodded curtly. "And you love your wife very much."
"Naturally. Since I have married her," was his dry intervention.
Irulan ignored his statement. "You want to make her happy. Would you allow her to do whatever she wants?"
"Such as?"
"Aha!" she yelped with triumph. "So there are things that you would NOT allow!"
"Well..." began Legolas, his tone slightly uneasy, "...I did not say that. I asked what those 'things' would be. It is a normal and fair question."
Irulan gave him a sly and dubious look. "Let us assume then..." she began, and Legolas suddenly understood what Gimli meant when he said that women were far better fighters. Irulan looked downright dangerous at the moment. "...that she is a very free-spirited person." Another nod from Legolas.
She halted momentarily. Now this was not a good example. Not good at all. She swallowed softly, realizing that unconsciously she had drifted into a tender area. And she did not want to give the elf the wrong impression. She bit her lower lip, growing a little anxious.
"Yes?" he said when her hesitation continued for several moments.
Her head jerked up at that nudge and she nervously smoothed her skirts, avoiding eye contact. "What was I saying?" She said with mock confusion, hoping that Legolas would not remember.
But of course such a thing was impossible. "You were elaborating about my free-spirited wife," he said with a smile.
"Oh...yes. Well...so she is!" she exhaled, fighting to lose the nervous tone in her voice and slowly succeeding in doing so. "She does not want to be tied down or anything. She wants to...well...do other things."
The elf cocked his head in amusement. "Once again...such as?"
"Such as..." began Irulan and shrugged casually, continuing to pace once more, "...you know...traveling...adventures, and things like that."
"That is a very peculiar wife," Legolas laughed softly.
The woman stopped in mid-track and gave him a furious look. He held her gaze and took another step towards her. "Yes, Irulan?" was his husky and amused question that made her shiver for no reason at all.
"I'm trying to make a point here! It's only normal that I would not pick an ordinary example but someone like... like me! Simply because it is MY opinion on the matter and I am trying to prove you why *I* don't believe in marriage!" she burst. A moment later she congratulated herself. It made sense! In a weird way.
Legolas pursed his lips and clasping his own hands behind him, said softly: "Yes, of course. Please continue." However, the twinkle in his eyes remained and for the first time since she had met him, Irulan felt the desire to stride over and choke him to death.
"All right," she began again, then could not help herself from adding hastily: "But this someone is NOT me! It is just someone LIKE me."
"Of course," was the matter-of-fact response and she urge to choke him only grew stronger at that. If she had known that Legolas was beyond himself with ecstasy, perhaps her fury would have been replaced by amazement and embarrassment.
She took a deep breath and kept pacing. "So anyway...Would you allow her to go away on such adventures while you remained behind?"
The Prince thought in silence for a moment. "Why can't we go together?"
"Well you are busy being the king, that's why."
"A queen would be busy, too."
Irulan rolled her eyes. "Yes but she is free-spirited."
"And I am not?"
"Legolas!" He shrugged in all innocence, once again enjoying the childish debate with sharp and unparalleled pleasure. "Let us just presume that you can not go," she seethed.
"Very well. In that case, yes, I would of course grant her such freedom. It is only natural."
"You lie!"
The elf blinked with surprise. He had not been called a liar too many times in his life. Especially in that tone. He crossed his arms across his chest again. "I do not," he said slowly, his tone both daring and careful. "But I suppose it is easier for you to say that than to accept the fact that you are mistaken about me."
Irulan swallowed. She had just called the Ruler of the Seven Districts and the sole heir of the Nine Tribes a liar. He didn't want to be treated like a Prince, but her behavior was still VERY unbecoming. "Perhaps I am," she managed to say with a softer tone and Legolas nodded in satisfaction, thinking that the conversation had come to a conclusion and that he had convinced her that he was different from the image of a man in her mind. Feeling very happy and content with that, he attempted to close the distance between them and continue the walk that had been interrupted.
"But..." she began then, and his feet froze, "...I am not finished yet." Her tone said the real torture was just beginning. He pursed his lips and once more pushing up his chin, waited for the next battle. 'This is far easier than I thought,' he mused silently. 'Probably she will ask me now if I will force my wife to do certain things or to be in a certain way!'
Very confident in that assumption, he took a relaxed stance and boring his eyes into her, waited for the question. Irulan gave him one last long look, then began pacing again. This time, it was far slower and idle. "So you will allow her to go..." she mused and gave him a sidelong glance, observing the cool posture of the Prince, "...but what if she intends to go with another?"
The question was so unexpected that Legolas only managed to blink in reply. An odd vortex appeared in his mind then, though he could not exactly understand why that was.
"Another?" he said finally, his mind refusing to analyze with its usual sharpness. Irulan nodded with a smile. "What other?"
"Ah you know,!" was her casual and dismissive sigh.
His eyes narrowed at their own accord. "No, I do not. What other?"
"Well...another person. A friend," was the reply, followed by a sly smile.
That word had been rubbing Legolas the wrong way for a long time now. He clenched his jaws and tried to think straight. But his emotions would not allow him a clear logical process. "What kind of friend?" was the question. He was aware that he was tensing, but felt unable to relax nevertheless.
"How many kinds of friends are there?" Irulan said with a tinge of exasperation. "Him and her have...-"
"This friend is a MAN?!"
She looked at him with bafflement and even the elf himself realized that his tone of voice was far too emotional for such a simple and innocent conversation. Only, in his mind, this conversation was swiftly becoming something far less than innocent.
"Yes. So?"
Legolas took a deep breath and looked away. All he wanted to do was to tell her that she had been right about anything and everything and end this conversation. For it was doing strange things to him and he was helpless in preventing it. Instead, though, other words flew out: "Nothing. Continue."
"All right. Him and her...-"
"Does he have feelings for my wife?!" he bolted suddenly, his tone laced with anger. After clear surprise settled on her features, he blinked and added, "For her, I mean."
"Well..." Irulan began, a little puzzled. She looked up to the evening sky, thinking that maybe it was time to change the subject, for Legolas was reacting in such a strange way. It could be that he was reacting out of a past experience, for instance. She should be kind and mature and let it go. Taking advantage of a weakness like that was most unbecoming. Yes, she should definitely change the subject. "Well, yes," she finished, thinking that she was a woman after all and that women were cruel until the very last breath.
The elf's eyes widened slightly at that and he unconsciously took a step towards her. "What kind of feelings?" he whispered with an edgy voice.
Irulan shrugged again. "He likes her." Once again she thought of letting it go, then added: "A lot."
The blue fire that set in on Legolas' gaze was certainly not what she expected. She swallowed softly as he fixed her for what seemed like eternity, then growled "He wants to go to...adventures with MY wife?" with a tone, frostier than any man could muster.
Irulan only managed a dumbfounded nod in reply. Then, thinking that she should not push things too much further, hastily added "Yes but she...she is loyal to you, Legolas! She is trustworthy. This is your wife we are talking about here, for Heaven's sake! She would never...-"
"No."
"Excuse me?"
"I said no. There is your answer. No." Legolas said, his chest aching with something unexplainably hot.
"NO?!"
"Precisely," was the elf's dry reply. "I forbid it."
"You what?!"
"Am I not being clear enough?" was his dangerous question.
Irulan blinked with surprise and shock and a moment later found the strength to raise her voice: "You do not trust your OWN wife?"
"I trust her completely. It is HIM that I do not trust. And for good reason too! What kind of 'friend' would engage in such a thing?!"
"Oh so now *I* am not the one who is making general assumptions about the male gender!" Legolas had to fight with all his might to keep his mouth from dropping open. She was so....right! But that did not change the facts. Not a bit. "A little prejudiced, aren't we?" Irulan continued with slight amusement, although the humor of the situation was running dry.
"As you have said before, it is more a result of observation," was his cool response.
"So you will take that choice away from her..." she said slowly and with obvious disbelief, looking him up and down and wondering what was making him so sensitive about the issue. "What if she insists?!" was her sudden and louder addition.
"She INSISTS?!"
"Yes. She wants to go, period."
"Then I shall eliminate this man!" Legolas said and his voice rang with such force that Irulan immediately decided to change the subject and never mention it again.
"All right. Point taken. You are ri-...ELIMINATE him?" she said in amazement. "Whatever does that me-"
"It means..." seethed the elf and began to stride towards her as Irulan became extremely uneasy and walked back timidly. "...that I shall erase him from this world so utterly, that none in Middle Earth will even remember a SINGLE thing about him!"
A moment later he stood looming above her and as Irulan gazed up into the eyes of the elf, all rational thought deserted her. Suddenly she understood what the enemies of Ithilien saw right before they were killed. It was this...this creature. This force. She would not dare to define him as a mere man then - for something so powerful was emanating from Legolas, that just the sight of him would cause a wave of tremble around him. She had heard all about his skill at war and how he was ever victorious and unsurpassable. But until this minute, it had been a string of empty -and probably exaggerating- words. Who knew they were very, very true?
"Does my wife have feelings for this man, too?" he said suddenly, and Irulan felt like she would faint from her effort to breathe. She gulped audibly and tried to move away, but her muscles refused to obey.
"Does she?!" he shouted and she jumped despite herself.
"Wha-Legolas! This is ridiculous!" She tried to move back again, but only managed a single step, which Legolas covered easily enough.
"I have asked a simple question," he seethed. "Why won't you answer?"
"No! For the love of the Valar, she does not!" she yelled, wishing to end this madness more than anything else.
Legolas blinked and gave her a long look at her. So long, that Irulan felt her muscles ache from remaining so tensely in the same position. "That is...good to know," he whispered then, and his tone seemed softer. Although she had no intentions of trusting such a sign. She took another step back and only then managed a shaky breath.
"Your wife, Legolas -whoever out-of-her-mind woman that will be- will probably JOIN you in his 'elimination'!" she yelped with a mixture of both fear and anger.
He took a deep breath and remained silent for a long time as his senses whirled in a mad dance and the world seemed to shake with their intensity. In his entire life, he had never been engaged in any conversation or debate that had made him lose his control and calm. Not even Lord Haldir had managed to succeed in that! 'I am not invincible, after all,' he thought bitterly and looked up to a terrified Irulan who was watching him with narrowed eyes. "I am sorry. Please forgive me," was his quiet statement. "That was very...uncalled for."
"I thought you had gone mad, Legolas!" Irulan managed to say, trying to shake off her terror.
'Honestly, so did I,' he thought as he ran his hand through his hair with desperation. "Please say you do forgive me," he whispered again a moment later, and he could not remember ever begging for forgiveness like that. Of course he could not remember ever losing control like that, either. For the first time since he had set eyes on her, Legolas realized that, as much as she could be a supportive one, Irulan could also be an incredible hazardous factor in his life. Just like she was able to erase all his sadness and sorrow, if she chose to do so, she seemed to be very capable in erasing all his happiness and joy as well.
And why would that...relieve him? Legolas remained still, feeling utterly confused and surprised of this odd emotion. Why would that -instead of making him feel weak and desperate- make him feel like, after all, he too, was slave to another, servant to a master and...lighter for it? Why, in the name of Valar, would he think that being at the whim of Irulan was so...ecstatic? Why was it not a disturbing and frightening idea that, as masses kneeled to him, he would kneel to her?!
"There is nothing to forgive," she said, tryin to sound as casual as possible. She was aware of his discomfort and felt ashamed of having brought it upon him. A tense silence came between them while both Irulan and Legolas tried to analyze the strange mutation this elf was going through - without success. "You have been reading it, haven't you?" was her sudden question.
Legolas looked up in surprise. "Reading what?" he said, a trifle disturbed.
Irulan rolled her eyes. "Master Gimli's book of course!"
"Well I..."
"I knew it!"
Legolas pushed up his chin and looked into the forest. "It is a good book."
"Legolas, the book might be good but the timing is beyond horrible!" Irulan moaned. "I mean...right before the BALL, you read this...this war-cry of a book! And look what it does to you!"
"What does it do to me?" retorted the elf, his tone cool and calm. When Irulan clenched her jaws and kept staring at him, he sighed in defeat. "I must admit that it is a little...provoking. However, that does not hinder its usefulness."
She shook her head and turned around to resume her walk and the elf jogged to join her side. They did not speak again until they reached Arod, each wondering in silence what madness had taken hold of their hearts tonight, and neither knowing that it was the very same thing that made the universe pulsate with life.
***