Meaning of Sacrifice
By Evil Windstar
Summary: A/L slash. A human king who hopes to come back someday and claim back of what is his. A grieving and bitter Elven-King. Sons and daughters of both want their father back, not the imposter who beds their 'mother' every night.
Pairings: SLASH. Mpreg. Mainly Aragorn/Legolas. *scowls* Implied Haldir/Legolas. Boromir/Legolas. NOT A TRIANGLE. [God forbid that…]
Author's Notes- My first fic in the LoTR section. I have read two of the books [does reading the Cliff Notes of LoTR count??]; the knowledge that I do know of LoTR is from reading other LoTR fics. I do plan to read the books. *grin* This fic has an actual *gasp* plot. Basic things of the plot: Aragorn and Legolas were married for 81 years. They had four children that are recognized by Gondor and Mirkwood as heirs: Celeb'loki, Uuranor, Alfirin, and Wilwarin [Female and male Elves can have children in my fic]. It's so AU.
Disclaimer- I do not own LoTR or the characters. Only the five children of Legolas.
~~*^*~~
When the cold of Winter comes
Starless night will cover day
In the veiling of the sun
We will walk in bitter rain
But in dreams
I still hear your name
And in dreams
We will meet again
When the seas and mountains fall
And we come, to end of days
In the dark I hear a call
Calling me there
I will go there
And back again
~ Edward Ross, "In Dreams" featured in "The Breaking of the Fellowship"
Prologue: Delusion
He was at the shore of the detached sea, again, standing silently; the winds whipping blond strands away from his face. The shore was clouded by fog for he could not see more than three feet away, something that should have set a warning in his head; but he dismissive it with cold indifference. He no longer cared, cared whether he lived or died.
He took a deep breath, his nostrils filled up by the icy wind and the salt of the sea. The sea sang for him, to him, luring him towards the West with the promise of happiness and finally, peace. He made a step towards the sea, an eager look in his emerald eyes, mixed with sorrow and heartache. If he went to the West, then he would no longer tied down by his nuptial and no longer be responsible for the well being of his children… but his children were also the children of…
'Legolas?' a strong and confident voice that was so familiar that the Elf could have swear on his very life that it was…
He sharply turned around and gazed directly into silver orbs. A small gasp escaped his throat as his eyes widen with pure shock, mixed with a tiny bit of apprehension. A Man. His Man. He shook his head in denial, it wasn't likely. No. Impossible. The logic of his mind told him that the Man currently in front of him was dead. Nevertheless, he ran towards the Man's awaiting arms.
When the arms were secured around him, giving him quiet strength; Legolas finally let himself cry out, crying over his Mortal husband. Liquid crystals ran down his pale face, sobbing out his grief and pure sadness. He put his head against the chest of the Man that he had longed for so long. This was a simple act; an act that he had taken for granted in the past. No longer would he take it for granted; he cherished it in his heart now. Soft lips kissed away his tears and fears; Legolas had missed this, this tenderness that the Man had given him in the long years before. The Man wrapped his arms around Legolas' waist, holding him possessively.
Finally, Legolas freed himself the comforting arms. He wanted to believe this; he wanted to believe that the Man was still alive somehow. But all hope had been stripped away from him. Everyday having the knowledge that the Man was deceased sent arrows at his heart. Yet he had learned to live with it; he had learned to move on, even though it hurt to do so. But… he had to acknowledge it, to himself, to his heart, to his soul, to his body. 'You are dead,' Legolas whispered futilely into the wind, his lips and his heart trembling with terror.
'No, Legolas. I have been alive, inside of you and our children: Celeb'loki, Uuranor, Alfirin, and Wilwarin. Your soul has call for me, begging for me to return and I have complied. Your soul is turning the color of despair, black. I fear for you, my love,' the Man pressed his lips against a soft cheek as he again took the trembling Elf into his arms. 'One thing you must never forget in your torment; I have always love and will keep on loving you, even if you find another to comfort you. I am sorry for your many years of suffering, something that that I could not stop.'
'Aragorn, nae saian luume' [It has been too long.],' Legolas chocked out, another sob threatening to come out. 'Don't leave me again. Stay. Please.' Pleading shone in his gloomy eyes. 'Come back. Take your position again as the King of Gondor and husband of the King of Mirkwood.' Heavy bitterness entered into his voice as he spoke again. 'Fill in the place where Haldir has placed himself, the father and sire of my children.' His hands had grabbed the Man's shirt as he finished his last sentence, holding the rough cloth with a tightening grasp.
'It has not been the same, since the day you left. You left without saying goodbye, you left our argument without any remedy. I was angry with you, but I forgave you in the end. Everyday I prayed for your safety and each day hoping I would receive a message from you. Then it came.' A stoned face was set, reflecting emotional pain and grief. 'That day two things hit me at the same time, one proved to joyful; but the joyfulness was crushed by the end of the day.
'You were dead, simple as that. The messenger apologized for being the transmitter of death. I wish that the other Men in your army had mistaken you for somebody else. They presented to me your sword… It was broken to pieces, no hope of being pieced together again, like my soul. After that, I do not know, or wish to know, what happen over the next few days. The children tell me I went insane for a while; they were scared to approach me because I would cling to them and not let go. But Boromir tells me I went to a faint. I do not who to believe, Aragorn,' Legolas babbled, frantic to keep Aragorn by his side for more time. He always went away.
'Quiet, my prince-ling. You talk too much. And you are wasting time, which we could be using for something else,' Aragorn smiled mischievously. Currently both were pressed against each other rather deliciously. Legolas moaned softly as a pleased smile graced his face when he discovered their predicament. That simple smile erased away the lines of years of pain and sorrow that were etched upon his forehead. The Man started planting affectionate butterfly kisses, lips barely brushing against soft, pale skin.
The Elf king arched against his dead husband's body, wanting frantically to remove his memories of suffering. He placed his lips against the throat of the Man, brushing against rough hair, and began sucking skillfully. Aragorn had tightened his embrace upon his Elf, who was hoping that the Man would never let him go ever again. The flames of yearning was once again running though his Elven veins, the intensity nearly overwhelming him after not feeling this for over 1500 years. He hadn't forgotten this at all.
Slowly were shirts and tunics were stripped off burning bodies. Hands were renewing its territory. The Man lowered Legolas towards the sand of the shore; the waves gently adding background music. It was almost romantic and peaceful, not quite.
Aragorn reached down to remove the Elf's leggings. He slowly brought them down, wanting to see the desire upon Legolas' face. A harsh gasp was heard throughout the wind as a gentle hand caressed with such tenderness that the Elf had pine for.
Suddenly, a hand grasped his wrist and roughly yanked him up. Legolas gasped with fear as threatening fog surrounded Aragorn and made him disappeared. This hadn't happen before! Aragorn would always leave at his own accord when they had finished their lovemaking and always Legolas would mourn over his Mortal lover until night would come again. Never had the Man just disappeared in an instant.
Legolas tried to run towards the spot where the Man used to be, but the unknown hand stopped him by wrapping itself around his bare waist, inforcing the fact that the Elf was vulnerable in this position. He struggled violently, vainly trying to run off.
'Aragorn! Aragorn!! Come back! Aragorn!!' Screams tore his throat.
'Amada. [Fool.] He won't be coming back, my prince-ling. Ever. I have taken care of that,' a voice said in his pointed ear. A voice that Legolas had grown to despised, with a passion, ever since when he had been forced to married him. Haldir.
'Haldir, let me go!!! Utinu en lo kirim! Amin delatha lle! [Son of snakes! I hate you!],' Legolas said fiercely, his eyes turning into a furious jade green.
'Fine.' The hands released him. Legolas ran. Then the sinister fog enveloped around him, confusing him with darkness. He had no idea where to go now. The fog faded away in an instant, as if it could sense his bewilderment…
He found himself near a cliff, looking over the now roaring, furious sea. He shivered slightly as an eerie feeling came over him, telling him that something was misplaced, giving him a vivid shrill warning in his mind. This hadn't happen to him. This was out of the ordinary and he was afraid. This was a fear that was unknown to him. This was a fear that sent goose bumps spread over his pale flesh.
Out of the blue, Aragorn came into sight, a few feet away from him, right at the edge of the cliff. His back was towards Legolas, facing the fierce sea. The fog was clinging unto him, like an ugly shadow of death looming over Aragorn.
Happiness shone on Legolas' face as he began walking in the direction of the noble Man. 'Aragorn,' he called softly to his lover. The Man turned to him, an ever-present mischievous smile on his lips. A whistle ran throughout the air, a warning.
A soft whistle of an Elven arrow flying in the thick fog, aiming exactly where it would hurt the Elf the most. The heart. Death had come.
Legolas heard it too late.
The Elven arrow buried itself into the Man's heart, its aim true and through. It pierced the object of Legolas' love, killing him instantly. Fresh crimson blood spurted out of the wound; the Man still had the now abnormal playful smile. Legolas was bewildered, frozen for a minute; but to him, it seemed years and years had passed in an instant. Not truly believing the Man was gone forever. Again.
Rolls of horror swept through him as he realized, and finally accepting, that the arrow had struck the Man's body.
Legolas got out of his stupefied position and cried out too late. The dead body was still standing, as if it wanted to taunt him… It swayed in the angry wind. The body tipped over to the unforgiving sea, lost eternally.
Legolas tried to catch it; even his Elven skills could not help him in this one. He ran to the cliff as the sea with no mercy swallowed the body. He watched helplessly. He cried bitterly, knowing who fired the arrow. For he had seen the carvings on the arrow with his keen eyesight as it fell with the corpse.
Haldir. 'Utinu en lo kirim. [Son of snakes] One day, I shall have the pleasure of killing you for what you have done to me and my children.' It was said in a quiet voice, but you could hear the threat nevertheless. The speaker said the warning with so much resentment and fury.
A cry went through the air. All of those heard thought it was an animal that was surely dying. 'Estel… come back! Estel!!'
~*~^~*~
Chapter 1: Forsaken
'Estel!!!'
Legolas was startled out of his dream as he shouted. Life came upon again the emerald eyes of the Elf King. He quivered as he remembered his dream. It had been so real. He could have sworn that Aragorn was with him again. He had felt again the heartbeat that had lain next to him for so many years. But that was gone. Gone over 1500 years.
It was just a dream. Just harmless dream that had raised his hopes again. But the truth remained, the truth stayed the same. It was like rubbing salt on not-yet closed wound in his heart and soul. Legolas hurriedly wiped away his salty tears from his still pale face; he did not want Haldir, or Estel, to know that he still cried for his dead husband. That was the price of having a mortal love. And Legolas had paid, and still paid the price harshly.
Then, he recalled where he was. Gondor. His sanctuary. Boromir would be waiting for him to eat breakfast… and his children!!! He could see Uuaranor, Celeb'loki, Alfirin, and Wilwarin again! He had not seen them in years.
'Atara?' [Mother?] a soft voice said cautiously, as if waiting for Legolas to snap.
'Yes, Estel?' he replied tiredly. He had traveled for days, without rest, to reach Gondor.
'Atara, you cried out in your sleep. You said "Aragorn" and then my name,' his son said as he carefully took note of the silvery tears on his Atara's face. He hadn't wiped the tears swiftly enough for him not to become aware of.
Legolas hesitated for a moment. 'I was having a nightmare, my son.'
'Who is "Aragorn", Atara?' Estel said quietly.
'Nobody for you to fret about,' Legolas said curtly as he got himself out of bed; the nightmare still lingering in the back of his mind. Sharp pain went through the Elf as he heard his son ask who was Aragorn.
As he stood up, a barely concealed painting caught his keen eyes. A pleased smile formed on his face, 'Please open the curtains, Estel.'
His son hurried to comply with the request. Fresh, new light burst into the room, lightening it up and bringing in a promise of life. Legolas could now see the painting. There was his family, preserved and etched forever on a piece of canvas. A family he had created with Aragorn, until fate had thieved away from Legolas. A sorrowful, and wistful, look came into his tormented eyes and Estel noticed it.
He followed the gaze of his Atara and stared at the beautifully painted canvas. It was indeed a piece of art. It was a portrait. He could clearly see his Atara, his stepsisters, and stepbrothers. There was his favorite half-sibling: Alfirin. He was just a little boy with upsetting white-blond hair that was almost unseen on Elves and amber eyes. The boy was playing with a white wolf pup! Wolves were forbidden, and still persecuted, in Mirkwood.
Estel was taken aback. Too many Elves still feared them from what happened during the years when the Evil Ones ruled, but apparently not his half-brother. He recognized his older stepbrother, Uuranor. He stood between Legolas and a Man, who look dignified and worthy of turning heads. Estel frowned, as he looked closer at the Man. He and the Man looked analogous. No. Impossible. The light was just playing with his keen Elven eyes.
There was Celeb'loki and Wilwarin, his half-sisters. Celeb'loki was the first child that Atara had bear in his life. He had not seen them in years and he was, kind of, delighted to see them again.
However, Estel hated it when he, Atara, and Atar [Father] came to the Gondor kingdom. Atara ignored him and Atar, putting all of his concentration to the Gondor ruler and his other children as if wanting to forget for a moment that he, Estel, and Atar exist. He was the only child between Atar and Atara. Atara's other children came from another previous marriage.
Estel put all of this into the back of his mind, to ponder over later.
As Estel thought about his confusing blood-line family, Legolas had went to clean himself and change into fresh, clean clothes that portray him just as a simple, ordinary Elf. He was not here as a king, but as a friend. But one looking at the golden-haired Elf would immediately notice that he was no normal Elf, even by Elven standards.
The light steaming from the open window highlighted the high cheekbones. Right now, his eyes were a tormented jade green. His ivory skin was slightly flushed as he thought of what was waiting for him down at breakfast, beside the meal, of course. His tall, slim body was graceful and had soft planes and wondrous curves that Men would not mind tracing with their hands. The Elf was a feast for the eyes, tempting and extradionary exquisiteness. Anybody could see the Elf's beauty; even his youngest son could see it. Estel knew many Elves and Men sought his Atara out, but he had saved himself for his father, Haldir, or so believed.
Legolas took a deep breath, taking in the scent of Gondor and her people. He truly loved this place. Not because it was the kingdom destined for one of his four children, or because he had his concealed lover here. Nay, it was none of those explanations. Gondor was a memoir. A daily reminder of what he had lost in an instant. His refuge, his home. Gondor was more home than Mirkwood, if one could even say in private conversation.
He felt assured, he felt no destruction would come upon him because this place …used be Aragorn's. So, it made sense to Legolas, he felt be to out of harm's way; except to other people of the world. Why keep returning to the place where you had the most painful, yet glorious, memories? Why remember? Why have more torture than what was already more than necessary?
Legolas did not comprehend why he kept returning. He had a feeling; a feeling that something would happen in Gondor that would ease his anguish and Legolas did not want to miss the event. Except, he did not understand what was going to be. So in the long run, Legolas did not know a lot of things, but one could forgive him for that. He has had too many other things to worry about. Like…
'You are thinking of him, aren't you, Atara?' Estel questioned in a quiet voice. Again, Legolas was startled out of his stupor and that his son yet again had not failed in his depth of unraveling things that should not be unravel. Apprehension gnawed inside of him at the thought that Estel knew about Boromir. Was his son accusing him of adultery? 'Of your first husband, of course. Who else would it be? Who was he, Atara?'
'Yes, I am. He was a breathtaking husband to me and sire to your siblings,' Legolas replied, relief evident on his pale face. 'One day, I shall tell you more about him. But today is not that day. Your siblings, and Boromir, await us at breakfast.' He did not voice out his resentful thoughts. They were forbidden to tell. Shame would come to him if he did tell what was on his mind. 'He was King Elessar Telcontar of Gondor; he was loved among his people, and mine. He proved to be a devoted husband and father. I love him, and he too loved me. Everyday you mock me by calling Haldir "Atar" when the title does not truly belong to him. Boromir is your truer father than that arrogant Elf.'
Estel noticed carefully how Atara's face had glowed when he had said "Boromir". He got a slight suspicion that things were not how they first seemed to appear to be. He made a mental note to investigate this further when he had time. 'What are you hiding, Atara? Why are you afraid of me knowing the truth about your deceased husband? Was he malevolent? Or was he nothing like Atar?' Right now, he had a duty as one of the princes of Mirkwood to come into view with the rest of his stepsiblings at the Royal Table of Gondor.
'Come on, Estel. We are late as it is,' Legolas called him back to the real world. A servant had come to tell him that they were very behind schedule and that the occupants of the Royal Table were getting impatient.
Estel unquestioningly, and devotedly, followed Legolas, who walked swiftly. Turning right and left in corridors and hallways, Legolas could find the Royal Table blindfolded, if the occasion ever arose. They managed to find their way to the impressive table. The Royal Table was set up with numerous luscious plates of food. The table was obviously fit enough for a king and his visitors.
A Man arose from his place at the head of the table as soon as he caught sight of Legolas. A crown was upon the brow of his dignified face, which declared him as the King of Gondor. Five other people followed his suit. "King Legolas of Mirkwood," the man said formally as he smiled knowingly when Legolas came upon the table. "My friend, I have not seen you in a extended time. It is a pleasure, as always, to have you and your-" he motioned a hand toward Estel and a blond Elf, "-family at Gondor. Your children have done terribly well in their training, no doubt they will be fine sovereigns in the near future."
"King Boromir, good morning. Many thanks for giving me such lovely compliments about my children. I expect no less of them," Legolas said in return. The Elf sat down at the right side of Boromir. With that, official formalities were given and finished, everybody, at the table and in the room, relaxed and sat down. Well, almost everybody.
One platinum-locked Elf was still standing and everybody was looking intently at the Elf and then glanced at Legolas. The King Elf gritted his teeth and said what was needed to be said. "Good morning, husband. I do hope you had a good sleep." He almost spited out the word "husband"; but his good breeding did not allow him to do this, and Estel would be hearing this.
The arrogant Elf sat down with a satisfied smile on his face as he once again achieved in bringing Legolas down. His eyes were a cerulean blue-gray and his golden hair was long and braided back. Estel sat down in the empty place beside his Atar.
'Good morning, Atar,' Estel said properly as the servants filled his plate with food.
'At least one family member acknowledges me,' Haldir said wryly. 'Yes, good morning to you, son. These humans are too time-consuming for my likening. I do not understand why your Atara likes being here in the first place.' He shook his head, rippling golden waves of hair glistening in the light and Estel was appalled with this. Again, he wondered why had he not inherited platinum hair. Both of his parents had it, but not why not him?
A thought came unbidden into his mind. Was it possible that his Atara had relations with another Elf? A dark-haired Elf, perhaps? And he was a bastard? 'No,' he thought uneasily. 'Atara could not have another lover in his life. He is faithful to Atar… I hope.' He shook his head, as if doing that, the thought would go away. Well, pondering over this again was not going to get him anywhere. He had to be discreet and observe everything that would happen in the future. Maybe it would soothe his fears of being a bastard child if he watched everything.
So Estel began by noting the sitting arrangements. Legolas had sat down at the right side of King Boromir. He and the Elf King were in deep conversation, exchanging ideas for training over Legolas' children. They were sitting too close for comfort. Boromir had laid his hand over Legolas' shoulder, who was grinning. A smile. Estel was amazed. He had hardly seen his Atara smile like that, hardly ever. He, or Atar, could never make Atara smile like that… So, what was so special about the King of Men? Estel narrowed his eyes suspiciously as he shifted his attention to another person.
In front of Legolas was another fair-haired Elf. No, not an Elf; but a half-Elf. Estel recognized his elder half-brother, Prince Uuranor. He had not aged at all; or changed, unfortunately for Estel. The eldest prince was aloof and cold towards him, as if he didn't approve of him existing. In fact, Uuranor didn't; but he kept that to himself. He did not demonstrate the hostility in front of Legolas, lest he would break Legolas' heart.
Uuranor was named after his hair; it was bright as the flaming sun, thus his name meant "fiery sun" in Western. Estel could see the startling similarities between Uuranor and Legolas. It was keenly seen that he was the true son of Legolas. The only difference between the males was their eyes. Uuranor had icy-blue eyes; ones that could pierce into your very soul and make a person shudder with alarm. He was the most arrogant of Legolas' children and the one most likely to pick a fight with anyone who disagreed with him, which Legolas frowned upon greatly.
Sitting in front of Uuranor was his sharp contrast of personality, the beautiful daughter of Legolas, Celeb'loki. She had rippling waves of light brown hair, which surrounded two wise emerald eyes. Her appearance greatly hid her true personality. Sweet and silent would most people describe her of being, but those people did not truly know her. She could be just as supercilious as Uuranor, even more at times; and be good-natured at the different times and at times, she could be rageful and spiteful. Yet, she was considered a true lady among Gondor's people and a royal in the midst of Elves. All acknowledge her commanding presence and her slight arrogance. The wood-Elves of Mirkwood viewed her as their next ruler; the throne was basically secured for her. Which caused some covetousness among her younger siblings.
She glanced at his way and gave him a small smile towards Estel. She had noticed his probing gaze at her and that worried her greatly. Then she glanced worriedly at Uuranor. She hoped that he would notice also what Estel was doing, but no avail. Estel thought she was going this because Uuranor was known to disapprove against her actions. Celeb'loki tore her glance away from her brother and glanced back at Estel again. She smiled sweetly and once more turned her attention to the lively, and quite fascinating, chatter of the table.
Estel frowned at Celeb'loki and then shook his head in bafflement. 'I swear by Elbereth, they seem to behave more peculiar towards me than before. Well, it has been a rather (not really) long time since I have seen them. What is it? Over a hundred years?'
Sitting next to Celeb'loki was Wilwarin, the fourth child of Legolas. She was eating hurriedly for she had a valuable lesson to teach her faithful Mortal warriors. She had handpicked them out by herself. She impatiently persuaded a strand of stubborn auburn hair to stay put, for it blocked her emerald-eyed predatory gaze. She never once glanced at Estel; he knew that Wilwarin despised him. He snorted quietly to himself at the irony of her name. She was anything but a butterfly; she was ferocious as any Man or male Elf. She was an excellent archer, next to Legolas, of course and had perfect swordsmanship. It was clearly seen that she was the flawless representation of a warrior. It helped that she had intelligence on her side.
She was almost done with her breakfast when a soft male voice in front of Celeb'loki spoke up:
"Whoa, Wilwarin. Why are you such in a hurry?" Estel could not catch sight of the speaker, but he knew who it was. Alfirin, the peacemaker.
"None of your business, Alfirin." Always the well-mannered speaker, she was. A pointed glare at her brother, who ignored it.
"You should stay here. Talk more. Join in the conversation," Celeb'loki spoke up. Wilwarin blanched at the thought, as if doing that would kill her.
"No way. Anyways, nobody invited you into this 'conversation', Celeb'loki. Silver dragon, indeed," Wilwarin said with venom in her powerful voice.
Uuranor joined in too. "Wilwarin, shut up. Listen to your elders."
"Like you listen to yours?" she shot back, her azure eyes glittering dangerously.
"Quiet, young one," he hissed as wrath penetrated into his cold blue orbs. "Tis not my fault that I was born second."
"Hey!" Celeb'loki scolded. "You brat!" Estel watched with heavy amusement shining in his bright silver eyes as the siblings squabbled amongst themselves, excluding Alfirin.
Alfirin's head shot up as he yelled at the table, "QUIET! All of you! By Elbereth, for once we're altogether, and the three of you start disputing like intoxicated Men! Twas easy to see that this was going to happen." This did not bring about anything for they kept on quarreling. They did not even acknowledge the ferocity in Alfirin's voice, it was as if they did not hear him at all.
The irony was that a quiet voice stopped them in an instant. "Celeb'loki, Uuranor, Wilwarin, please calm down. You are acting like fools. Alfirin is right (as always). This is the first time we are together as a family," Legolas said softly. "I did not," he continued gently, "raised you like this. Neither did your father and he would not approve of this."
That stopped dead in their tracks. Estel watched with satisfaction as they all turned red with shame. And they called him childish!
"We are sorry, Daddy," Celeb'loki whispered with downcast eyes. Uuranor made a noise in agreement. "I know Father would be most unhappy if he saw us like this. Wouldn't he, Wilwarin?" She nudged her with her elbow.
"But the thing is Father will never see us like this," Wilwarin finally said bitterly. The elbow nudged her harder and now a foot kicked her. "So this doesn't really matter? Now does it?" A cynical tome had entered her voice and she knew she was going to have black and blue bruises on her right side and right leg. Pain was nothing to her; but pain was like needles to her Daddy. Finally, she relented. She may have a heart of ice, but one thing she could not stand seeing her father in anguish. "I apologize for my ill words, Daddy. I did not mean that."
"Do not lie, Wilwarin. That was never one of your best skills," Legolas said amusedly, a slight, dim twinkle in his eyes. He watched with amusement as the face of his youngest daughter turned a rather interesting deep red scarlet. Everybody roared with laughter as they watched Wilwarin's well-built profile, enjoying the way her pride went down a notch.
She sniffed haughtily and return back her breakfast. Deciding that breakfast could not damaged her already offended pride that it already was. The laughter of the others was very irritating. So to change this, she sent a death glare to everybody. In her glare, she promised a very painful torture and then a not dignified death and nobody doubted she wouldn't live up to her threat.
Legolas smiled a bit when he saw the expression on Wilwarin's pale face; she was so like Aragorn in too many agonizing ways. All of the children, that both of them created because of the love they shared for each other were too much like Aragorn. Too many remembrances. Bittersweet memories. The smiles, the honor, the stubbornness, the pride, the nobleness… it was if Aragorn had deliberately put all that was him in all of his children. It was a proud mark that all of them bore within their souls. Legolas shook his head to clear himself out of his thoughts and gave out a small sigh that spoke volumes of sadness.
Boromir glanced at the Elf sitting beside him. He had heard the sigh clearly enough and he knew for who the sigh was for. He could not blame the Elf for missing the Man because he had not forgotten either. He could not forget the tenderness he and the other shared when they were younger. But that was way beyond the past, wasn't it?
They all finished their breakfast quietly for the rest of the time. One by one, everybody left to their various activities that had to be done. Boromir left to go to the Royal Chamber and to do very important things to see and people to do. Legolas went off to his private personal room to rest a bit. Celeb'loki went off to the Royal Stables to ride her favorite stallion. Uuranor and Alfirin practiced their sword fighting with each other to pass the time. Haldir wandered off to Gondor's gardens, marveling at the peace of it, and then stopped by the stables.
The golden-haired Elf chose his fine chestnut stallion named Faier. Haldir told his horse in Elfish to take him to a beautiful meadow. He found there, much to his delight, Celeb'loki. She sat on an ebony stallion, who had a silver star on his forehead and a silver tail. Where Celeb'loki was, she could see the whole entire city of Gondor; and beyond the borders that separated the human city from the others.
Haldir came up to her softly with the horse making no sound; he laid a hand upon her shoulder and massaged it gently. 'What do you see, daughter of Gondor?' he said softly into her half-pointed ear; she did not even flinch when she became aware of his presence. She had grown accustomed to her stepfather's little "games". Haldir moved his hand from her shoulder to her hips, tightening his grip on her.
She urged her steed forward and moved to face him. "I see my father," she said simply. Startled, Haldir looked up with slight fear on his face. With his keen eyes, he could see a very far-away figure moving towards him.
'You lie, lovely princess,' Haldir taunted, 'your father will never come back.' She stiffened at his words and arrogance entered into her crystal eyes. Haldir smirked and moved his horse, so he could touch Celeb'loki's face. She made no reaction to his move. 'Why do you defy me? He has already submitted to me the last time I came here. Twas a wonderful experience.' She gasped and backed away from him. He came towards her again and reached to caress her sensitive ears. She shuddered as a wave of acquiescence washed over her. 'Tell me why your brother does not have ears like yours?'
With that question asked, she snapped out of her stupor and answered, "Which one of my brothers? I have many." Terror claimed her as she thought wildly, 'He cannot find out that Estel is not his! He cannot!'
'You know which one I refer to,' he said slyly as his long fingers continued the torture pleasure upon the half-Elf's ears.
"Let me go, Haldir. I shall tell my-"
'Tell him?' he sounded incredulous. 'You know he cannot deal with this. You would put him into despair like when your father died.'
'I have an idea. Why do you not stop this ridiculous urge to bed us?! You do not care about him, leaving him like a broken toy! You only wedded Legolas so you could say that you bedded the most beautiful elf in Middle-Earth every night!!!' she shouted angrily in her native Elfish.
'What do you know?!' he hissed, raging because of her hurtful words. Because they were true. But he had come to care about Legolas, against his will. He could not say that in front of Legolas' face because he knew he would be rejected immediately.
'I know that my father is one of the most desirable beings that ever existed in Middle-Earth. Fairer than Lady Arwen, many say,' she snarled as she moved her stallion to circle Haldir's teed. 'I see how other Men and Elves, throw themselves at his feet to please him, so they can bed him later. But he does not let them.' 'For he has another to pleasure him,' she thought smugly.
'Quiet,' he said softly as if he had read her thoughts.
'You do not like hearing the truth, is that it, Haldir? Arrogance is your unbec-' Haldir's stallion jump on her and the Elf's slender hand reach out for her throat. It made contacted. She gasped and desperately tried to back away. Her hands clawed at Haldir's tunic, attempting anything to loosen his hold.
"Let go of her," a voice said coldly. Haldir release his hold from the half-Elf's pale throat and glared at the stranger in front of him.
'Who are you, peasant, to tell me what to do?' Haldir said haughtily, acting as if he hadn't been suffocating a member of the Royal Family of Gondor. Celeb'loki raised her hand to her neck and grimaced, hopefully the bruises would fade away by the time she got back to the castle. Then she set her eyes upon the person who had just saved her life. She frowned slightly as she gazed at the hooded stranger; she felt like she had seen him before, déjà vu.
"I am only a mere ranger, roaming through lands just for pleasure at beauty," the stranger replied as he regarded at Haldir. The outsider wore a black-ripped cloak over him and his hood covered his face. Only in the face of darkness, there could be seen two glittering silver orbs floating. The only skin showing were his hands, hands covered by calluses and diminutive scars. He sat upon a white horse that its coat shimmer silver in the light, who snorted as if it was agreeing with its master.
"A Ranger?" Celeb'loki wondered faintly, and then reality crashed into her. "Rangers exist no more. The last of the Rangers died more than 1500 years ago. His name was Strider-" she swallowed with emotion "-and he was my sire."
The Ranger turned his head towards her and seemed to study her with scrutiny. "Just the person I was looking for," he said suddenly. "You are the most prized jewel of Gondor, Princess Celeb'loki Telcontar. I wish to speak-"
She cut in smoothly, "If I am a jewel, then my King is far more beautiful and sought-after than I. Have you ever seen him? His eyes are an exquisite emerald, green as any valley or forest. His hair golden like newly spun gold. His face fairer than mine; his skin a pale ivory. He is male, but he rivals any woman's, or Elf-maiden's, beauty, even mine." She paused for a moment. "I do not know how I am to fill in his place when he is gone, for he is a just and kind king to all, even though most of them are worthy enough to receive it. Many expectations fall unto to me. Nay, I shall not tell you more. I fear I have stray from my original intention," she gave out a small laugh, "and also I have bore you about my father and I. What would a stranger want to know about a land he has not seen?"
"You will be surprise, my princess," the Ranger said quietly. Haldir bristled at the endearment and lashed out with all of the haughtiness he could muster.
"Do not call her like that. You are no courtier or suitor to call upon her. You are only a 'mere Ranger'," Haldir quoted haughtily. But with his uncanny Elven senses, Haldir could tell that the Ranger smiled underneath his hood. "What do you hide under your hood? Are you afraid to show your face? Is your face scarred beyond handsomeness?"
"Tis no business of yours. I have a matter to talk about with the Elven-king Legolas of Mirkwood. I wish to speak with him, Princess Celeb'loki," the Ranger said seriously. He feared the princess would also ask the same question as that arrogant Elf had. It did not come.
Her perfectly formed eyebrows shot up with slight surprise. "Very well then, I shall take you to him. It will be his decision to see you or not. I fear he will be very active with somebody else if we do not hasten," she answered. "Come, Ranger. Tis a rather long walk, even on steeds."
'You cannot invite a stranger into the palace grounds!' Haldir shouted out angrily, his madness making his cheeks flare with fire. 'As ruler of Mirk-'
'Nay. Boromir rules this palace,' she stressed out the last word, ' and I have higher status than you do. I am daughter of the Immortal King Elessar Telcontar and the Elven-king Legolas! They both ruled Gondor together!'
'I already know your blood line, your highness,' Haldir said sarcastically, but he knew the half-Elf before him was right. She did have higher status… when she was in Gondor. Haldir grinned wickedly as a thought came to him. 'Very well, princess. I submit to you, this time.'
Celeb'loki watched Haldir warily at the sudden submission. This was not his type of act. Her eyes narrowed into slits as suspicion entered her mind, what game was Haldir playing?
It seemed that Haldir could read minds because he answered the question immediately. "My princess, and Ranger," he added afterthought, "I proposed to you both that we have race to the castle. A test of agility and speed if you want, of who has the fastest horse among us. Also we shall get there much faster if we quicken." Here was the reason of Haldir's backing down so quickly.
"I shall take your challenge, Elf," the Ranger declared.
"So shall I," Celeb'loki answered. "Be prepare to be left in the dust, gentlemen!" With that, her stallion reared up in the air and whinnied out a challenge and took off. Haldir gave out a small laugh, delighted that both of them had taken the bait, and raced out to join her.
The Ranger was left alone, literally in the dust. 'Alkar show them what you have.' The horse whinnied in response and took off after the two stallions ahead of it. Its long legs gave it wondrous strides that in not time at all, the Ranger managed to see two blurs, one black and the other chestnut. The two of them were neck to neck, each of the stallions giving all of they have inside of themselves, the will to win. The steeds strained their necks to give them the lead. Both of them traded the lead.
In the far off distance, the castle of Gondor could be seen. Slowly, Haldir's stallion began pulling ahead for the stallion was Elven-bred, probably the pride of the Golden Wood. Celeb'loki urged her won horse to go even more swiftly, she whispered, 'Faster, Quicksilver, faster.' Her horse obeyed her and pulled ahead of Haldir's. Out of the corner of her eye, Celeb'loki could see a whitish-sliver blur racing up to them. She was amazed by the horse's speed; it went faster than any other she had seen, not even the steeds of Rohan could go this rapid.
The white steed of the Ranger caught up with the two Elves. The stallions snorted angrily as soon as they saw the whitish blur passed them. They pulled all of their remaining strength out of their powerful muscles. Both riders urged them to go more rapidly; they were enraged what a Ranger's steed could out-speed their own Elven-bred horses. What they did not know was that the horse was a descant of Shadowfax, the legendary horse that bore Mithrandir upon his back during the dark times of the War of the Ring.
The wind whipped back the Elves' long hair back like banners of haughtiness and pride, each one declaring what they were and what they were not. One darker saying she had the blood of Men inside of her. The other lighter proclaiming that he was a pureblooded Elf. Each one could not afford to be defeated. Slowly Faier went ahead of Quicksilver, gaining enough ground to pass the white blur. But it seemed that fate had other plans. All three reached the fighting grounds of the castle, where all of the soldiers of Gondor trained faithfully and willingly.
Suddenly, a high-pitched scream splited into the wind and a startled whinny reach into the air. Alkar rose up on its hind legs and pawed at the sky angrily. Quicksilver and Faier were forced to stop, digging their feet into the ground. In their path was a frightened golden-haired maiden. She trembled with terror as she saw the great white horse rise up. It was a truly magnificent sight she declared, after she recovered from the fright, of course.
'Get off, girl!' Haldir shouted, so sure that he would have won of the girl hadn't been there. The girl gave an alarmed squeak, but she did not move. Fear did not release its grip from her. Celeb'loki gasped as soon as she identified whom the girl was. She nervously looked around for somewhere to hide. Being around here, at the scene of the crime, was not a very good idea. Her protector would soon come, Uuranor. She did want to be here when Uuranor would exploded, even though she had seen this happen a hundred times before; it was still not a good experience. The Ranger just looked at the girl curiously, feeling that the girl awfully look like…
'Voranda! Are you all right? Are you hurt?' the golden-haired half-Elf asked frantically as he rushed to her side. He had heard the scream too well. He looked at her quickly, checking for any unhidden hurts the girl would have gotten.
'Nay. I am all right,' Voranda said softly as she put her hand upon her breast. 'I was just frighten by that.' She pointed at the white horse. 'I was daydreaming. I heard the thundering of hooves too late, the horse stopped on time.' She gave a weak laugh. The half-Elf looked accusingly at Celeb'loki.
'You are supposed to protect her, not harm her,' he hissed.
She opened and closed her mouth, looking like a flopping fish gasping for water. She sputtered, 'you heard her! She was not paying attention! Tis no fault of mine! The Ranger-'
'I put you within my trust, Celeb'loki!' he shouted, blithely ignoring Haldir. He flatly refused to acknowledge the elf's presence. The said Elf kept all of his haughtiness on his face, making it look like he didn't mind being ignored.
And though all of this, the Ranger carefully looked on. At Celeb'loki's denial. At Haldir's anger. And then he looked at the beautiful angry blond half-Elf in front of him. He must be…
"Legolas," the Ranger called out softly, wonder in his voice. "Tis not you to be like this." Sudden silence fell upon the arguing pair and the Elf on the stallion. Haldir twitched in apprehension, that voice… it sounded so familiar… Celeb'loki shivered in excitement for the Ranger's voice was enticing like a lover's would… Uuranor stood still with dread, another who saw him like his father. True, they did look alike, but that's where it all ended. Uuranor greatly resented it when others saw him like Legolas. It angered him beyond belief. It took all of his will not to kill the person who sat upon the offending white horse, who actually dared to voice out loud his resemblance to Legolas.
Then it struck him. The person though he was Legolas. This could be interesting. "Nay," Uuranor answered back, altering his voice to sound like Legolas'.
"Your daughter. How old is she?" the Ranger said pleasantly.
"She is barely 500 years old, Ranger. She is not old enough to be courted," Uuranor hissed with cold steel in his voice, dropping his ridiculous façade of being Legolas.
The Ranger blanched, but no one could his expression. His hood still covered his face; he would not remove it until the time was right. He was sadden by the fact the Legolas had already mated with another.
'Stupid boy. You are not Legolas,' Haldir flung at Uuranor. The words stinging way more that Uuranor would have liked. 'You are a father of one! Act like it!' Uuranor flinched. 'You are too young to be one, Uuranor!' The said half-Elf made himself smaller if it was even possible. Celeb'loki was flabbergast by her rebel brother's response; it seemed that Haldir's words hurt him more than all of the words flung at him n the past by her or by Legolas.
The Ranger shifted uncomfortably, knowing he had made a very awful mistake of speaking of Legolas. He would not do that again. What was wrong with him? The first thing he learned as a Ranger was to listen, observe, then ask later. But he felt pity for the cowering half-Elven boy; even though the half-Elf had played with him.
'Who are you talk about my father like that?! You do not know him,' Voranda defended her suddenly-weakened father. She did not know who she was talking to. If she had known who exactly the Elf was, she would have surely leapt at his throat and tear it off.
'I know him well enough, little girl,' Haldir hissed. 'I am ruler of Mirk-'
'You are not ruler of anything!' Celeb'loki's fierce voice spoke up. Her love for her brother and niece made her do that. 'King Legolas is!'
'Guess what, Princess Celeb'loki?! I am the husband of King Legolas. Have been ever since I wedded him lawfully!' Haldir screamed.
'Against his will!' Uuranor snapped, back to his old self. He put a protective around his daughter and held her close to him. At once, Haldir's eyes caught the movement and smiled maliciously. He thrown back his head with all the haughtiness he could muster; his long golden glittering in the sunlight.
'How would you know, prince-ling? You were not there. You should have seen your father give himself willingly to me, for me, only me. Twas delicious seeing him so broken,' Haldir whispered to Uuranor's ears only. Uuranor trembled with suppressed anger, wanting desperately to kill the Elf in front of him. The chestnut stallion pawed the ground and snorted angrily as if it could sense Uuranor's intentions. It flicked its ears calmly, waiting patiently for the attack. Then it neighed warningly, which caused the other two horses to act violently.
Quicksilver lunged at the chestnut's neck, its aim at the life-giving vein found in the throat. The white horse made a move up into the air onto its hind legs and to strike down the chestnut with its powerful hooves. Celeb'loki's quick Elven reactions stopped her stallion from doing critical damage, but just enough for a scar to be visible. The Ranger managed to calm down his own steed. Even though, he sympathized with his horse's urge to kill both Elf and stallion.
'Haldir, run. Flee from our sight. You have three people willing to murder you, even though the price will be our heads,' Celeb'loki warned, her voice rash. Her pale hands were gripping the reins tightly. 'And two very strong stallions.' Haldir smiled wickedly, knowing he could escape if such an event occur. He, of course, was an Elf. Not unlike these half-Elves, who had the weak blood of Men flowing within them.
'Very well, I will go,' Haldir laughed coldly. He turned his own stallion around and galloped back to the forest. Silence fell upon until the thundering of hooves could be no longer be heard. Somebody coughed lightly as she came into view.
'Well, that was interesting,' Wilwarin said dryly as she climbed down from her tree. She wore a simple outfit that camouflaged her well; brown leggings and a gray tunic. She sent a pointed look to her sister and brother. Each silently agreeing not to tell Legolas of what had happened right now.
'Draug! [Wolf!]' Voranda pointed at the ground as she dropped to the ground upon her knees, finally freeing herself from her father's embrace. 'Tis a pretty white draug. May I pet it?' No one answered, still startled by the outburst. No one had noticed the draug sitting next to them, except the Ranger.
"Yes, you may, child," the Ranger answered roughly. The white wolf had calmly watched the whole entire ordeal, sitting on its haunches by its master's feet. The wolf gracefully rose from its comfortable position and walk to the girl, letting her pet it. "She is tame," the Ranger assured Uuranor.
He turned to Celeb'loki, "Tis always like this?"
She regarded him evenly, deciding if he was trustworthy enough to be told. "Ay," she said sadly, "tis always ends with a spat between us. Only Alfirin and Estel do not participate in this."
"Estel?"
"Ay. He is my bro- I mean, half-brother. Haldir sired him," she informed him. Not many people outside of Mirkwood knew that Estel even existed and the fact he was Haldir's son. Those that knew when he was born were long dead; those that aided in his birth. "You must be eager to speak with my father. Wilwarin, may you please go notify Father that someone wishes to speak with him?"
Wilwarin gave a slight frown, "Very well." In a flash, she was gone.
'Come on, Voranda. I must finish practicing,' Uuranor called to his over-exuberant daughter, who was still petting the white draug. 'Leave the wolf alone! Her master wishes to leave now to speak with your grandfather.'
'Ai,' the girl sighed softly as she gave the wolf one final pat on the fine head. 'Goodbye, draug. I hope I see you again.' The wolf waved its long bushy tail as a silent goodbye. The two golden-haired half-Elves walked off towards the direction of the training field.
'I would have never thought that any offspring of Uuranor would a delight,' she chuckled to herself. 'She brings joy to our lonely lives of being heirs to the throne.'
"You see it as a burden?" the Ranger questioned. Both of them were alone, save for the wolf and their proud steeds.
"Nay. Tis just a heavy responsibility," she answered quietly. She quickly changed the subject. "Wilwarin has already gotten there and telling Legolas that we are to arrive. She is swifter than most Elves and Men." There was quiet pride in her voice. "Let us go. I must ask, Ranger. What is your name? You know ours."
"I am sorry, princess. Many call me, Wraith. But I prefer Ranger," he responded.
"Very well, Ranger," she said, amused. "Come." She told Quicksilver to move towards the castle and he obeyed. The Ranger followed, by his side was the wise white draug.
~*~^~*~
Soft laughter and delighted giggles sounded throughout the chamber of the King of Gondor. The walls were covered with tapestries of glorious battles and triumphant victories. The Horn of Gondor was hung with great care and it was obvious to anyone who saw how it was hung could see that it was the King's greatest possession. Fine carpet with delicate designs sewed upon them covered the cold floor. A floor that was stepped upon by many of the ancient Kings of Gondor.
'Naughty Elf,' a whisper of lust. 'You will pay for that.'
'Nay,' a musical voice responded as the owner moved enticingly over the other's lap. 'You cannot resist me.'
A pleasant laugh. 'You know me too well, Legolas,' Boromir said; lust flaming in his hazel eyes. He dipped down his head to kiss tenderly the lips of the Elf, who responded with fervor that surprised the Man.
'I need you, Boromir. Cleanse me. Make his touch fade away and replace it with yours,' Legolas whispered brokenly as he bowed down his head in shame. 'He demands too much of me. He wants me to give him what he cannot have.' He ceased moving on Boromir's lap.
'I am sorry. Tis my fault I came too late, Legolas,' Boromir replied softly. He caressed softly the Elf's tender cheek as he shoved his hips upwards. Legolas moaned as he was spurred into action; he wanted to forget. Boromir was the only one who gave him the comfort he really needed.
The Elf's hunger-filled eyes closed as moved his nude buttocks over Boromir's lap, making a swift erection to appear. Legolas rode Boromir shamelessly with fierce desperation. The Man groaned as he took the Elf's hips and raised the Elf high enough to pierce him. Legolas opened his eyes and stared into Boromir's eyes, managing somehow to stop time with his stare.
Something traveled through Legolas' soul as he looked into the Man's eyes. It was almost the same thing that he had felt once for Elessar. But the Elf could not afford to love again, last time he did… he lost his heart along with his mortal lover. 'Aragorn,' he called out futilely.
Boromir's half-lidded eyes opened widely. He dropped the elf back to his lap, startled by the name that the Elf had called him. He felt a deep sadness course throughout him as the thought hit him. The Elf still saw him as Elessar. And that hurt, stinging him beyond measure. He turned his head away from the Elf and stared right at where the Horn of Gondor hung.
Awkward silence fell upon them.
Legolas got up from Boromir's lap and hurriedly tried to put his leggings back on. 'Forgive me, Boromir,' he whispered brokenly as he finished tying the strings of his leggings.
'Tis all right, Legolas,' Boromir said as he tied his own leggings and got up from the chair. The moment of passion was broken. He raised a hand and gently caressed the Elf's cheek. 'Still you grieve for him. Tis understandable.'
Legolas leaned into the touch as he argued, 'But tis no reason for me to call you by his name. I beg you to forgive me.'
Boromir laughed softly. 'All is forgiven, lovely Elf. Come here.' He opened his arms and Legolas moved into him gratefully. The embrace reassured both of them that they would never leave the other in despair or heartache. Boromir rested his hands on the Elf's slender waist and the Elf had his arms around the Man's neck. Legolas nuzzled tenderly the throat of the Man and kissed it softly. Boromir stroked the Elf's back comfortably. If anybody had intruded upon them like this, then they would conclude that they were in love with one another. But alas, they were not. One could not love with a full heart again; too many lovers had left him. And the other needed love too frantically.
'Your scent is all around me, Boromir.'
'Then you must bathe before you depart. We do not want Haldir to know.'
'Ay,' a sigh departed from his lips. Kisses were exchange between eager mouths. But unfortunately, something just had to interrupt them. A knock on the heavy doors that led entrance to the King's chambers.
An obscene word was heard. "Enter," Boromir called out, knowing whom it was.
"Forgive me, Your Majesties," Dulin the personal butler of Boromir said apologetically, "but somebody wishes to speak to the Elven-king Legolas." The butler was not taken aback by the image of seeing his King holding the Elven-king in his arms. The Elven-king had his long legs wrap around the King's waist and delicate hands that had made sandy hair disarranged. The King had his own hands on top of the buttocks of the Elf, hands still massaging them. Apparently, Dulin had trespassed into a throb of passion, but he was used to this. How many times had he seen the Elf in his King's arms and heard them too? Too many times to count.
"Oh," Boromir said as he let go of Legolas as soon as the Elf's legs were on the ground again. "Well, tell that 'somebody' to wait awhile. Legolas is too preoccupied with me to go to speak with him."
"Nay, Boromir!" Legolas laughed as he turned to the stony butler. "Dulin, tell him I shall come down in a few minutes." The butler bowed down to both Kings and closed the doors as he left.
Boromir cursed loudly. 'You seem to be expecting him. Who is he?' He tightened his hold on the pretty Elf, who was rather cozy in his arms.
'By Elbereth!' Legolas laughed lightly as he turned his eyes to Boromir's sober eyes. 'I swear you are far worse than Haldir.' There was no change in the Man's grave posture. The Elf could sense the tenseness of the Man and he could read the fear of losing him. He coyly escaped the trap of Boromir's and came behind him, putting his slender hands upon the Man's shoulders. 'You know,' he whispered into Boromir's ear as he began gently massaged the tense shoulders, 'this guest is no importance. I could stay here and pleasure you until the night's end if you rather I miss Mithrandir's guest.' He began nibbling on Boromir's ear, sensing shudders running throughout the Man's body.
'What?!' Boromir roared as he broke away from the Elf's hold on him. 'You sly Elf!' Legolas just looked at him innocently, widening his emerald eyes.
'Nay, Boromir! I am not that,' Legolas denied as he hid a smile. 'I am wounded that you think of me that way. You surely jest!'
'Quit playing games, Elf,' Boromir grumbled as he sought out the Elf's warmth again. Legolas moved away from him.
'I must leave, Boromir. I am sorry,' Legolas said worriedly, seeking out the Man's eyes. 'This is urgent, Mithrandir told me to receive him with gladness in my heart.'
'Why?' Boromir said suspiciously as he looked straight into Legolas' eyes.
'If you think I will go into his arms, Man, you know me not,' Legolas raised his voice a bit. 'I already have another's arms to comfort me. I do not need another, Mortal.'
'I think no such thing, Elf,' Boromir bit out. 'So tell me, oh fey Elf, who is this that comforts you?'
Legolas suddenly chuckled and stepped closer to Boromir. 'He is the King of Men of Gondor. I fear that jealousy clouds his rational mind and he will lose me if he tries to bend me to his will.' Boromir was silent and turned away his head away in shame. 'But,' Legolas paused, 'I fear that I could not leave him even if I tried.'
'Go, Elf. Duty calls to you as it does to me,' Boromir said dully as he finally turned away from Legolas and walked away. Legolas sighed, wondering what he had said that made the Man so upset. The Elf shook his head in bafflement as he moved toward a wall that was near the Royal bed. A bed where almost all heirs of Gondor were sired. Legolas paused and glanced at the bed, tears wanting to pour out. He recalled how Elessar made loved to him as he whispered tender Elvish words in his pointed ears. Legolas closed his eyes in grief, wanting to block off the torturous image of what he could no longer have. He managed to recollected his bitterness and lock it away somewhere deep within his heart. He purposely touched a carved leaf on the stone wall and a door was revealed. He took one last look around the chamber and then went toward the door. The wall moved silently to conceal its secret door.
~*~^~*~
He moved quickly, keeping his grace only like an Elf could. He walked through dark corridors and hallways that were within castle walls, turning instinctively toward his room. He reached his chamber within a few minutes and walked towards his private bathroom. He bathed swiftly, scrubbing away the Man's scent all around him. He could not have Haldir discover his affair with the King of Men. But he knew his infidelity was not one-sided. He knew Haldir took others to his bed.
He stepped out of the tub of steaming warm water and was handed a towel by one of his servants that had been standing silently by the wall. He wrapped one around his hips and another around his silky wet hair. He walked toward another room that connected his bathroom to his chamber. There he was handed clothes to wear to present himself formally to this 'guest' of Mithrandir. He put those on and sat down upon a stool that was in front of a mirror. He unwrapped the towel and another servant swiftly dried his hair.
'Wilwarin, please step out of the shadows,' he requested as he picked up a brush and handed it to his personal servant.
'Ay, Father. You are still the only one who can sense me,' Wilwarin complained as she stepped out from the wall and walked toward her Elven father. She shooed away the servant and started to brush her father's long golden hair. 'Also Alfirin can tell I am there, but he does not count.'
'So not much has changed,' he smiled. 'Has Alfirin seen this stranger coming?'
'I have not ask him, but knowing him, he is probably on his way down here now,' Wilwarin answered as she put down the brush and started to braid the traditional braids of Mirkwood Elves. Her long fingers made delicate braids that would keep hair from spilling into her father's face. She must to that to her own hair, but unfortunately, her hair was cropped off to her ears. Something that was disapproved by the counselors of Gondor because no heir, or a princess, should have her hair like that. But as always, she defied everyone and did things her way. Which, Legolas privately approved of.
Both Elves and their ears twitched as they acknowledged the sound heard the door that led entranced to Legolas' chamber opened. They could hear the soft steps and judging that alone, they could deduce who was the intruder into this rare moment that was between father and daughter, considering whom the daughter was.
Alfirin came solemnly towards Legolas; he was dress formally also. 'Father,' he said gravely as he made a move to bow down.
'No need to do that, Alfirin. No one is here to view,' Legolas realized that he just stated what Alfirin already knew. 'Pray tell, my son, what is wrong?'
'I fear for you, Father. He unnerves me. His mind is shadowed away from me,' Alfirin stated carefully, not wanting to spill out unnecessary information. 'He is called Wraith. It reminds me of the Nazgul, of the Ringwraiths. He claims he is a Ranger. But I sense no evil from him, just an intent to reveal something that has been long concealed in the past. He is to bring damage to us all with his truth… and yet, cure us with the same truth. Tis strange.' He knew that his father was going to protest and answered before even the dispute came. 'Yes, he has Mithrandir's approval and even Galadriel's.'
Legolas frowned as he listened to his son. He rose and seemed to be in deep thought. It was then that Wilwarin noted how small her brother was compared to their Elven father. She passed Alfirin by a few inches, but both passed the general height of the Men of Gondor. Yet compared to the Elves, they were small, even more with their father's presence.
The sudden silence that had fallen upon father and children was broken by Legolas, 'Wilwarin, clean up and put on your most formal gown.' He did not see Wilwarin's horrified face. He called to his servant and requested them to call Uuranor and bid him to dress formally also.
'I shall not put on a gown, Father,' she stubbornly refused.
He ignored her. 'Did Celeb'loki… never mind.' He again seemed to be in deep thought as he walked to his chamber and sat on his bed. His children followed him.
'Ay, she did have a dress on, Father,' Alfirin answered.
'Why not call on Estel too?' Wilwarin questioned because she knew that he too hated to wear formal attire. And she wanted to bring him down with her, after all, misery does love company.
'Because he is not to be present in what is going to happen.' Alfirin answered for Legolas. 'And he was not sired by our father.'
'What do you know, oh so wise brother of mine?' she rolled her eyes as she realized her mistake. 'Ai. Do not answer the question, Alfirin.' She put a slender hand on her forehead and groaned out loud. She knew she was going to gain a headache. This was the price she paid for having a psychic brother that was very much like Galadriel. Legolas smiled as he watched his two youngest children playfully bantered with each other. But this was no time to play games.
'Wilwarin, go and dress, please,' Legolas said firmly. Wilwarin sighed in defeat and she left the chamber, going slowly to her own chamber. 'Alfirin, are they here yet?'
'Nay, Father. They will be. Uuranor has enough time to dress and Wilwarin will not if she does not hurry up,' Alfirin finally smiled. The smile was like a ray of light pushing itself through raining clouds. So grave was his pale face. Having the ability of foresight was a heavy burden upon his shoulders because he knew he could never tell anybody of what he had seen of what was going to come in the future. He knew who was the sire of his niece and the true sire of Estel, but he could never utter the words, lest bringing disgrace to his older brother and his kind father.
'Come, my child. So let us go to Throne Room,' Legolas said and Alfirin followed. They walked together and those who saw them, nodded in approval. Their Elven-king was tall and fair and his son was small and strange with his amber eyes.
When they reached the Throne room, they were not surprised to see Uuranor and Wilwarin standing by two thrones. One was made of white gold and jewels were carved into there, Uuranor stood by that because of his status. While Wilwarin fidgeted with her gown by a silver throne, here was where her status put her. Alfirin walked to his sister and stood by her. Legolas followed his son, climbing the steps one by one slowly. Only one of his children was missing and a voice announced her presence. He sat on the silver throne and he felt a little lost because the golden throne was beside him was empty forever. It had been a long time since he had sat upon the throne of Gondor. He could almost feel a large hand reaching out for his own left hand and squeezing it in reassurance. But nay, it was just a figment of his imagination. He closed his eyes as he tried to get his scatter senses back in order.
He opened to them again and was surprised to see his daughter and a Man cloaked in battered clothes bowing before him. For a moment, Legolas thought the man was Strider. But as the man raised his head, Legolas saw two dangerous silver orbs watching him carefully and Legolas felt fear wash open him as he thought that this Man was going to reveal all his secrets into the open. He knew that Alfirin was true in his prediction and he wondered, 'Gandalf, what have you done?'
"Welcome, Wraith the Ranger to Gondor," Legolas proclaimed as he sensed the astonishment vibrated out of the Man. "Ay, I know who you are and who send you and what you mean to do here." The Man seemed at a loss of words. "And I will not let you do that."
"Father!" Celeb'loki exclaimed in shock.
"Be silent, princess of Gondor," Legolas said quietly as he looked hard at the Ranger. "Do you have everything with you, Ranger?"
"Aye, Your Majesty," the Man sputtered with a slight accent of the North as he recovered all of his operating speech capabilities. Legolas frowned; he felt he had heard the voice somewhere… long ago. The Man reached to his side and all in the room rose to attention, their hands in the hilt of their swords, wary of this stranger. Wilwarin practically had her sword out. And the Man took out-
A feather, a bottle of ink, and several pieces of parchment. The Ranger was a scholar also and he was here to write about the Elven-king's past. He was going to write a book on Legolas' life. Relief shone upon the elite guards of Gondor and Wilwarin was heavily disappointed; she was looking forward for a good fight. She put her trusty sword away.
"I must request for all to be silent for I shall speak for a lengthy time. My sons and daughters, I bid you not to interrupt me as I speak what happened long ago," Legolas said. All of his children were extremely puzzled by the change of their Elven father's behavior, except Alfirin. He knew. He closed his eyes and prayed to Elbereth, 'Make us strong enough to endure the words that my father will utter today. For the truth shall destroy us all, especially Estel.'
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So… how was it? Yea, I know I put A/L in the beginning. But don't worry it will be!… In the next chapters or so… Probably in the third chapter.
Pleaz review if you want the next chapter! If I get enough reviews, I will put the next chapter soon enough!