Disclaimer: I own nothing. It all belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien.
Adamzgal: I actually didn't really think about it before I killed off Leofwyn and Gleothain. Realistically, I kill of characters of my own all the time, and I looked back and thought *oops well that was graphically put.* I'm so glad you enjoyed Aragorn and Legolas' moment!
Bigpattern: I think Aragorn's ability to pardon the dead is somewhat hereditary; as Isildur had the ability to curse the living into a state of undeaddness, so it would make sense if it was passed down through generations. Every detail in this story is important, and I'm always happy to see readers paying close attention to the little things.
Aralas: Like I said previously…I killed off Gleothain and Leofwyn, posted the story, and was kind of like "oh…that's a little harsh isn't it?" I really wanted Yusraa to be evil and I think I took it over the top without thinking about it. You have so many great speculations! And I can't answer any of them! I grinned the whole way through reading your review and it's such a struggle to remain silent. I will address one thing. The whole thing with Moria was sort of informational filler. I THINK it was mentioned that at some point after Sauron's downfall Moria was purged, and I thought it only logical that Aragorn might have had a hand in it. I don't have any plans to tie it in with this vein of plot as of right now, but it's always a possibility.
Gondor was in a state of turmoil.
I always imagined my reign as a peaceful one. Perhaps I'd have some trouble flushing orcs out of hard-to-reach pockets of darkness, but otherwise I'd always supposed my rule would be rather straightforward. Now, I was faced with the mad antics of the lunatic spawn of darkness personified. People were dying left and right, in gruesomely calculated ways. Yusraa treated the act of murder like an art. She put her kills out on display in order to spread panic and disorder. Each death was a statement, and unfortunately, the message was disconcertingly clear.
While Legolas was the prime target, causing a state of unrest in a city unused to subtle turmoil made Gondor's defense weak. While Minas Tirith panicked and pointed fingers, Yusraa could slip in and out undetected. While my attention was divided between a distraught husband and a city that wanted to see someone hang for the atrocities committed, our vulnerability was a gaping wound. Now, our departure from the city seemed like escape and cowardice. Regardless of our good intentions, a King disappearing in the midst of a bloodbath brought an amount of ire that was unprecedented. Emyn Arnen was now bringing in commerce daily, but no one cared about that. They cared about the men, women, and children who had been slaughtered like livestock with no recompense.
Upon our return, we were greeted by a mob at the Gate. The thunder of thousands of angry shouts and screams was purgatory to my ears. Even as Faramir led us to a guarded side passage and ferried us to the Council Hall in secrecy, I was sick to my stomach. I had been so, so careless. No matter what my intent, the results were catastrophic and I had no idea how I was going to repair the damage. It wouldn't matter if I held every funeral under the White Tree with an assembly of the Revered Guard; I couldn't bring back the dead, and the dead were numerous. Minas Tirith's Treasury was vast, but as much as I wanted to pretend I could pay everything forward, I knew it was impossible. The people wanted a name and a face, and I could only give them an assumed identity, veritably a phantom. Without someone to prosecute, and the death toll rising, the people were becoming mistrustful and angry. I was at odds. If I presented the truth of the situation, I risked ire being directed at my spouse. Someone might try to eliminate Legolas simply because he was a threat, and we had enough to deal with in the assassination department already.
Having avoided the bulk of the angry mob, Faramir took us to his office and locked the door. He shot a weary glance at Rilien, who was leaning against the wall looking disturbingly unperturbed, and gestured for us to sit down. My Steward was pale and drawn, and I the guilt I was already feeling only mounted further.
"I should never have let you go" he said hoarsely, slumping in his chair. "It was a foolish, careless decision."
"I'm as much at fault as you" I replied, brushing the dust off my travelling clothes. "I thought if we left, Yusraa would follow. I was wrong."
"Rohan wants recompense" Denethor's son continued. "Their people were slaughtered, they want to know why."
"What does the Lady Eowyn say?" Legolas queried.
"She's been a blessing in all of this" Faramir replied, covering his brow. "Honestly, I think she's the only reason Eomer hasn't stormed the Gates. She rode out to Rohan right after the attack, and hasn't been back since. She'll have told him the cause, as she knows the truth of it all." He shifted in his seat. "The people want an explanation, and the only reason I haven't given it is because I think it would hurt Legolas, but we must give them something."
"You could always fabricate something" Rilien said smoothly, from his place in the shadows. "If you cannot tell the truth, you must lie."
"And what do you suggest, Son of Veryan?" I asked wearily.
The dark-haired elf stretched like a cat and stalked forward.
"Yusraa seeks not only to kill Legolas, but to ruin your reign" he purred. "What better way to do it than to cause unrest between a King and his People? Sauron has fallen, but that does not mean his denizens have forgotten him, nor have the people of Gondor. Tell them that one of his Underlings seeks revenge, by bringing down the Men of the Earth from the inside out."
"And what happens when the killings don't stop?" Legolas snapped. "When we cannot bring a face to the public despite the hundreds that have fallen in the name of this so-called 'revenge?'"
"None of us have ever seen Sauron's face" Rilien said smoothly. "But he was still powerful enough to strike fear in every heart. Evil is born in the art of subtlety. If your people do not understand the intricacies of a plot to bring down one of the greatest reigns in Middle Earth, I shall be sorely disappointed."
"You put a lot of faith in a fearful people's ability to put two-and-two together" I said drily. "And Legolas is right, what if we can't stop Yusraa? We're practically helpless without Gandalf, and she's shown no indication of having a weakness. Sauron's weakness was the One Ring, but there is no Mount Doom and no trinket we can throw into everlasting flame."
"Everyone has a weakness" my husband's attendant replied sagely. "This will buy you time to find it."
As much as I wanted to deny it, Rilien was right. We needed calm and order in order to make progress locating Yusraa, and we wouldn't have it until the public had some sort of explanation. Explaining that the attacks were aftershocks of Sauron's demise was logical, calculated, and believable. The memory of his tyranny was still fresh, and as much as I hated to lie, it shielded Legolas from any kind of backlash. Faramir arranged for the announcement to be held under the White Tree the next day, his logic being the sooner we could announce the fabricated problem, the better the opportunity to address the real one. Legolas, in a brilliant gesture of generosity, arranged an admirable memorial service in the palace gardens. A tree was planted for each life that had been lost, and a stone plaque was set up with the names of the dead. He also arranged a mail service for people who had questions or grievances about the attacks. Each letter was brought directly to his office, and he answered every missive personally. I let him do it, because I knew he felt a great amount of responsibility for the whole affair, and it brought him some small measure of comfort. The people took the announcement with no small measure of incredulity. They didn't like the idea that Sauron still had a hold over Gondor, but at the same time they understood that even monarchs were often stymied under the weight of such great evil. The city was nervous, but no longer angry at its caregivers. I thought it a small blessing, and took none of the subsequent peace for granted.
A letter from Gandalf came in the day after the announcement. It was fraught with concern and trepidation, and he informed us that he would be back in the city within the next two weeks. The Hobbits had settled back into the Shire, and though Frodo was weary, he was moving forward. All of our short-statured friends sent their love and concern, and it warmed my heart to hear from them. Gandalf cautioned us to have care, and to limit the amount of traffic we had in and out of the city until his return. He also recommended a curfew and to instate a degree that required everyone to be accompanied by at least one other when out in public. Legolas wrote up a doctrine that required children to be supervised at all times, and set up various tutelages for them to attend in favor of running about the streets. Elrond and the Captain of the Guard arranged combat training sessions that were free for the men of the city to attend, and the Healing Houses advertised tutelage on bandaging wounds and identifying various healing herbs for the women. It was a small comfort, as those of us who knew Yusraa's nature were aware that there was little any of it would accomplish should she strike again. But it gave the people a sense of security and structure, and a unified functionality was our ultimate goal.
Legolas and I were afforded very little time together while we tried to restore some semblance of peace to the city. Each of us had paperwork separate from the needs that were forefront, and we were obligated to accomplish it during time we normally would have reserved for each other. Rilien spent a great amount of time ferrying affectionate missives between the two of us, and seemed to take great pleasure in reading them before the receiver had had a chance to look it over. I was beginning to suspect his only purpose in life was to a get a rise out of everyone, though he was very good at doing it in a way that made you want to laugh about it afterwards. I didn't have much time to think on it, really, I had no time to think about anything but the responsibilities laid out before me. If I wasn't busy scouring every text known to man for a mention of the weaknesses of Necromancing, I was pouring over documents Faramir left on my desk with weary fervor. More often than not, I found myself catching spare hours of sleep in my chair in the wee hours of the morning; nodding off over trade proposals and the odd treaty while the fire burned low. It was stressful and mind-bending, I had to remind myself more than once that all of it was utterly necessary.
It was late in the afternoon, perhaps three weeks after our return from Emym Arnen, that I suddenly found myself with nothing to do. I'd been going through a stack of documents that proposed a new road from Minas Tirith to Linhir. When I reached from the next leaf of parchment, my fingers closed on empty air. Momentarily stymied, I rose and peeked over the edge of the desk, sure that I had dropped something on the floor. When a discovery of the similar sort was not forthcoming, I sat back and tried to recall if Faramir had told me to do that I had possibly forgotten. When nothing came to mind, my thoughts immediately turned to Legolas. My heart sank, as I realized that though I was-for the moment-not busy at all, he would surely be. Nevertheless, I held on to the small sliver of hope that we would both be somehow simultaneously lucky. Putting away my quill and inkwell, I methodically cleared my desk before stepping out of my office and locking the door. I passed a few attendants and an elderly Council member, who offered me cheerful, perfunctory greetings, but was otherwise undisturbed. Nosing my way up to the agricultural constituent, I nearly collided with Rilien, who was carrying a large tomb in his hands. Momentarily stymied, I almost missed as his long fingers moved to cover the title, his lips curling into a duplicitous smile. He settled the book on his hip, carefully turning the front of it into his body. I debated on pressing him for it, but decided that even the most ostentatious of us must have our secrets.
"Mae govannen, Estel" he drawled, and I winced at his use of my childhood name. "What brings you to this section of government?"
"I have some free time" I replied, folding my arms. "And I thought I might spend it with Legolas, is he here?"
"Pity" the dark-haired elf sighed dramatically. "You've just missed him. He went up to your quarters to look over some paperwork, though he wouldn't say why he wanted to do it there rather than here." He tapped his lip pensively. "If you like, I can escort you to him."
"It's not necessary" I said dryly.
"Oh, I insist" he trilled, turning to disappear into what I assumed was his office. He reappeared a moment later, bookless. "After all, as King you should emphasize your two-by-two edict."
He took my arm and cast me an adoring glance that was so see-through it might as well have been glass.
"I wish you'd stop being so impossible" I grumbled as we fell into step.
"You shall wish long and for nothing" he quipped as we exited the Council Hall. "I'm afraid my eccentricities are rather ingrained." He winked. "You should learn to love them instead."
"As much as I respect your kind, I can't help but think you must have been raised among the fey" I remarked, trying to tug my arm free to no avail.
"Quite the contrary" he said amusedly, drawing his bright orange robe up to step over some gathered rainwater. "I was raised in the highest of Courts." He stopped to adjust his grip on my arm and I gritted my teeth. "My mother" he continued with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Was a great woman, with many unconventionalities. My father adored her, but he was a serious man with fierce ambition and she could not tie him down. He had great dreams, and even us children couldn't keep his attention overlong. He taught us the necessities for survival and longevity, but was soon bored, so we were left with my Naneth."
"It sounds a sad tale" I remarked.
"I think it's all rather joyous" he laughed, earning a few strange looks from passerby. "He taught us everything he could, and when he was no longer useful, he left. I think that's the way it ought to be."
"A parent should be there for their children whether they need them or not" I said calmly.
"Ah yes, your father, he died didn't he? Such a shame, and a great man too."
"Another took his place" I replied as we passed under the gate to the sixth tier. "And he was just as good a father as my first, if not better."
"Because he survived" Rilien said dryly. "Not much you can do as a parent when you're in the ground, I'm afraid."
"You do like to shock" I replied exasperatedly.
"A jester is only as amusing as his tricks" he remarked with roll of his eyes.
"What made you decide to come to Gondor?"
"I have a vested interest in the future of Men" Rilien replied, smiling distantly. "After all, my kind are leaving these shores. I would see the future of Middle Earth upheld, before I decide what to do with my future."
Privately, I thought his words rather empty. As flamboyant and energetic as his gestures were, there was an blankness behind them. I sensed that he overcompensated for something he greatly lacked, and I couldn't decide if it alarmed me or not. He entertained Legolas, but his ministrations were based on my lover's tolerance, and I guessed that if Legolas were kinder to him he would soon grow bored. Rilien needed confusion and dissention as much as I needed order, he thrived upon it. I disliked the thought of him about when there was little else to do. He was troubled in a way that was not a little bit unhealthy, and if he were to feed even the slightest bit of his innocuous nature to Legolas, I was ready to ensure his dismissal at any given time. He knew this, and it seemed to make him more determined than ever to permanently fuse himself into our everyday lives. I couldn't say I disliked him, but I certainly didn't trust him.
Legolas was sitting on a chaise lounge in a courtyard in the Tower of Ecthelion. He had a blanket drawn up to his knees, and was looking rather pale. Before him were a scattering of papers, but he appeared to be nodding off in front of them. I frowned, a flutter of concern stirring in my chest as I looked at him. Rilien detached himself from my arm and moved forward with the grace of a traveling dancer.
"Mellon, sut naa lle umien?" he purred. "You have a visitor."
"Ya?" the golden-haired elf sighed, pulling himself up. His eyes traveled over his advisor before settling on me. The tiredness in his gaze lifted slightly as he smiled. "Aragorn, how good to see you. I wasn't expecting to hear from you today."
"Nor I" I commented, striding forward to sit on the edge of the chaise. I took his hand. "I have some time to myself, and wondered if you would like to spend it with me." I gestured to his scattered paperwork. "But I can see that you are busy."
"I wasn't doing much of anything" he chuckled quietly, pressing the heels of his palms against his eyes. "I'm afraid I'm so very tired today, I can't seem to get anything done."
"I could fetch you both some dinner" Rilien offered, still standing in the same spot. "Perhaps you could share a meal together."
Legolas frowned as his stomach gave a growl of agreement, and I laughed.
"I think we have the answer to that" I commented. "If it wouldn't be too much trouble, we'd like that very much."
"I'll be back soon" the dark-haired elf promised before disappearing down a shadowed corridor.
Legolas watched him go before sighing heavily, his fingers trembling slightly as he drew the blanket closer to him.
"Are you well?" I asked, concerned. "You look pale."
"I'm just hungry" he replied, brushing a lock of hair away from his face. "I haven't been eating well these past few days. It's catching up to me, I'm afraid."
"You need to take better care of yourself" I soothed him. "I know we've had a lot of work to do between the two of us, but you can still afford to take some time for yourself."
"I've gotten over two hundred letters asking over the whole 'Sauron' affair" he grumbled. "I thought you made it rather clear when you spoke to the public."
"People are going to have questions, no matter how much I say and do" I chided him gently. "And you did sign up for it."
"Still no word from Gandalf?"
"No" I murmured, momentarily sobered. "He should be here any day now."
"I hope he can help us" the elf remarked. "I'm getting tired of looking over my shoulder."
Rilien returned then, with two servants. They set out a table in front of the couch, with an assortment of fruits and vegetables for Legolas and a plate of lamb for me should the need arise. Wine was poured and I sipped mine but Legolas didn't touch his, looking faintly sick at the very thought of drinking it. The attendants left and Rilien went to sit in a corner with a book, out of earshot. The lamb was very good; someone had taken the trouble to season it to perfection and I made a note to send a missive down to the chef with my compliments. There was a lemon sorbet for dessert, and I eyed it with predatory anticipation as I waited for my husband to finish his meal. Legolas had taken a few pieces of fruit, but slowed down after a few bites, looking faintly green. At my glance, he seemed to steel himself to try again, but gasped and appeared to gag, pushing his plate as far away from him as he was able.
"Legolas" I said flatly. "What in Illuvatar's name is wrong?"
"I don't know" he said shakily, reaching for a pitcher of water and pouring himself a glass. "I…I just can't eat…it all smells terrible."
Unable to finish my own meal when my spouse was in such obvious discomfort, I put down my fork and engaged him in a discussion about trade. He was happy to oblige and we were soon swapping ideas, while the food went untouched. I was grateful to spend any amount of time with him, even if he wasn't in the best of spirits. His presence was uplifting and I was reminded again of why my life held so much meaning. We were discussing the niceties of a bridge over the river Serni when I noticed Legolas was eyeing the lamb on my plate. Every so often his hand would sneak forward as if to steal my fork, only to hesitate and snatch itself back. I let it go on, more for my own amusement then anything, before offering him a piece. He looked uncertain for a moment, as if he'd been caught doing something terrible, before he threw all caution to the wind and popped a piece into his mouth. I grinned as his eyes went wide and his lashes fluttered.
"You can have the rest" I said encouragingly sliding the plate over to him.
It was as if I'd told him Midwinter had come early. He polished it off as if he'd been starving, and I guessed he rather had been. It was with one part mirth and more parts disbelief that I watched him reach for the other slice of lamb that had been allotted and devour it as well.
"I knew you would realize the benefits of protein eventually" I commented cheerfully.
"There are no benefits in protein" he snapped, then flushed. "It was…uniquely flavored."
"It's the same that we had a week ago" I remarked. "And you didn't show the slightest interest in it then."
"Don't bully me" he groused. "It was a one-time thing."
And yet, he seemed he was wrong yet again on that front. It wasn't but the very next day that I watched him try his hand at pheasant and practically fall head over heels. The day after that it was veal, then bacon. Every time he found a new meat that he enjoyed, he had a mental crisis. This usually involved desperately insisting this was the very last time he would try it, and he'd never do it again. He'd always eaten with grace, but there was a newly discovered wonder in his expression that was endearing. I found it amusing but at the same time disconcerting. Elves naturally avoid meat, it does terrible things to their digestive tract, but Legolas didn't seem to experience any negative effects. He in fact seemed healthier for it, with a soft glow replacing the washed out pallor I'd witnessed on him a few days before.
Rilien had little to say on the matter, commenting that he thought it was absolutely disgusting but as long as no adverse effects were forthcoming he didn't see anything wrong with it. I asked him to keep an eye on him nevertheless, and he was grudgingly forthcoming. Gandalf arrived four days after Legolas had discovered his new-found love of all things carnivorous. He was weary from his journey, as the weather had made it longer than he anticipated. We greeted him at the Gates and left him to settle into his rooms before inviting him for an afternoon lunch. He acceded, and we joined him in the palace gardens a while later. I had sent off the missive approving the road, and Legolas had several agricultural progress reports to look over before we could come together without any further judicial obligations. I met Elrond at the entrance to the Healing Circuit, and we made our way to the gardens together.
Faramir had arranged the gathering in a circuit overlooking the ovular curve of the wall, with a thicket high-growing holly giving us some semblance of privacy. Inside were the herb gardens Legolas so loved to tend, thriving in the warm summer sun. Wicker chairs had been set in a vaguely circular pattern for us to sit on, each with its own rectangular table with tall spindly legs on the side. A luncheon had been set out, with an assortment of bread, honey, fruit, cheeses, and cold cuts. Legolas was already there, eyeing a glass of cold tea with an expression of utmost suspicion. He and Elrond exchanged pleasantries while I poured myself a glass of wine and settled into a chair next to my husband. A moment later, Rilien swept in and curled himself around Legolas feet in a catlike manner, blinking sleepily at my exasperated expression. Gandalf joined us not long after that, having changed from his dust grey travelling cloak to his traditional white robes. He accepted an attendant's offer of a glass of water before choosing a whickered seat with a direct view of the rest of us, leaning his staff on the arm.
"It is good to see you, Mithrandir" Elrond said smoothly. He shifted a plethora of scrolls he'd brought up from the library so he could sit more comfortably. "We've had great need of you here."
"Well met, Elrond Half-Elven" Gandalf rumbled. "And I hope I can be of good service." He made to speak once more then stopped, his gaze finally falling upon Rilien. "Who are you?"
"Rilien Caunwaithon" he replied, rubbing his cheek on Legolas' robes. "At your…revered service."
"That doesn't answer my question" the old wizard said sternly, raising a bushy brow.
"Rilien has been very helpful with reconstructing Gondor's trade, commerce, and agricultural divisions" Elrond replied.
"I said I'd be useful" the dark-haired elf purred. "And I am."
Gandalf gave me a hairy look and I shrugged.
"Faramir vouched for him" I muttered. "He's cleverer than he looks."
"And he's also your…kept man?" he asked Legolas.
"Oh, I like the sound of that" Rilien drawled.
"Do shut up" Legolas said lightly. "He's just imposing like this, you'll learn to tolerate it."
"Indeed" Gandalf said slowly. "And do you know of our topic of concern for this meeting?"
"If you're speaking of our darling Yusraa, yes I do" was the flippant reply. "She's been quite out of reach but incredibly active." He smirked. "If you want my suggestion, I would start at the site of the last slaughter."
"You could trace the magical signature" I supplied, catching on to his train of thought. "Like you did with the Gondorian Toadstool."
"It all depends on the amount of traffic the area has seen" Gandalf said slowly, still apparently reluctant of Rilien. "And if you've had any hard weather in the past weeks, I'm afraid it's just not a possibility."
"We had some light rain a week ago" Elrond supplied. "But there may still be traces." He picked a dusty-looking tomb out of his pile of scrollwork. "I've been looking into texts regarding Necromancy. Apparently, those with such a proclivity can't use their powers properly unless surrounded by a large amount of the dead."
"Well Gondor's certainly in no shortage of corpses" I commented dryly. "Rath Dinen is brimming with the Honored Dead."
"But the Dead there are Virtuous" Elrond countered calmly. "A Necromancer couldn't draw power from them because they died with Honor. It explains why Yusraa's power isn't a constant. She can gather it from someplace like the Dead Marshes, and use it in great bursts and displays of tyranny, but once her power has been depleted she can't force her hand."
"So we take a census of who comes and goes within the city" Legolas said calmly. "We record where they go and when they'll return. Once we have a list we can start narrowing it down."
"That could take years" Gandalf said gruffly. "Minas Tirith has an unprecedented amount of traffic, and you've already limited it. Any more and your trade will suffer."
"What will a magical signature tell us in any case?" Legolas questioned.
"As long as Yusraa hasn't cast again, I can detect a soul signature in the magical one" Gandalf replied. "Once I have a clear picture of it, I'll be able to identify the perpetrator by sight." He frowned. "If she acts again, I'll have to start over. The problem with Necromancy is that it warps the soul. Each time a spell is cast, it warps the individual in different ways, making them impossible to identify except by their most current magical endeavor."
"Then we should get started right away" I said grimly. "The sooner we begin, the closer we get to-Legolas, what are you eating?"
Caught mid-bite, my lover froze, looking like a deer caught in a torchlight. I couldn't identify it from the distance I was away, but it looked green and yellow.
"It has the smell of avocado and sharp cheddar" Rilien said mildly. He inhaled and made a face. "Oh, and a little bit of shrimp."
"I think you should see a doctor" I muttered. "You're appetite has slid terribly out of line."
"I'm fine" Legolas complained, rolling his eyes. "Just…adventurous."
"You say his eating habits have changed?" Elrond said curiously, suddenly looking intently at Legolas. "How so?"
"He started eating meat a week ago" I replied, and Gandalf's eyebrows disappeared into his hair.
"And you've suffered no ill effects?" the old wizard grumbled.
"What?!-No!" Legolas protested. "I've just…been hungry for certain things."
"You like bacon" I said darkly.
"It's unprecedented for an elf to like bacon" Elrond said, sounding astounded. "If you'd just let me-"
For the moment, our quarrel with Yusraa was forgotten. Gandalf was utterly fascinated by the fact that a member of a solidly vegetarian species had abruptly become a carnivore. Elrond insisted that he examine Legolas right there, right then. Both men clamored with each other as their rising excitement clashed with differing professional interests. I desperately tried to keep the peace, cajoling my love, who was looking increasingly thunderous, and begging the differing involved parties to just be quiet for a second. It wasn't until Legolas threw an outright tantrum, refused to be examined, and left the garden in a glorious elvish huff that anyone regained any semblance of sanity. It was then that I noticed Rilien. He was sitting where Legolas had left him, at the foot of the chair, but he was looking to the way Legolas had gone and unaware that he was being watched. On his face was a vicious, unadulterated look of boiling, ravenous hate.
Translations:
Mellon, sut naa lle umien?-Friend, are you well?
Ya?-Who?
Author's Note: *breaths heavily* I wrote this today! I kind of can't believe it myself. I was all set up for an entire week of writer's block and then I woke up and this chapter just happened. I think it went pretty well. So, I hope some of your questions have been answered. If not, please feel free to post them and I will address them in the coming chapters. As always, I'm thrilled to have your reviews. Hmm. I wonder what's wrong with Legolas? Thank you for you dedicated reading!
R&R