Alright, this is the first time I've ever written an Author's Note thing,
so bear with me. This is a short story about Legolas and an encounter at
the sea. It was originally planned to be Aragorn fic, and this was to be
the first chapter. However, due to a few emotional circumstances, I gave
this story the axe. However, I read it to several wonderful people, who
encouraged me to continue. So, depending on the reviews I receive, I shall
decide whether to let Legolas live, or to let him die. Let me know what you
think! Thank you so much for your time.
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Those That Wander
Legolas managed to slip away from the crowded city-fare of Minas Tirith, as he had done nearly everyday now. His friends knew he traveled to see the surf of Belegaer, and with many of their own businesses to attend to, they left him to his seclusion. Arwen, the Lady of Rivendell, would be coming in three days. After her arrival, Aragorn would be crowned King, and they would wed. It was a marvelous occasion for Gondor. Legolas promised to stay for the marriage, but that was all. He feared the call of the Sea.
Yet, he was drawn to it also. Many are warned to avoid the door that will seal their fate. Most of them do. But Legolas was not one of those people. Curiosity may kill the cat, but one day, it will genocide his people.
This is why Legolas came often, and alone. He was not afraid to challenge his fate, but it was needless to draw others into it. They wouldn't understand anyways.
He could see it now, though it was still far away. It seemed to tower above him, like so many buildings of the city, except it was wider and fiercer. Even from this distance, he could see the surf issuing over its belly. A salt breeze licked his face and combed his hair. It chilled him to be so close, and he drew his cloak more closely about him. Despite all his troubles and fears he continued, like a loving child to an abusive father.
Legolas set foot upon the beach's scattered sands, never sinking like a mortal might've, and strode effortlessly across the beaten shore. Broken sand hid any paths that might lead the Elf, but he needed it not. He knew full well where he was going.
He soon found a place where several large boulders stood in a stance against the angry ocean. The tide frothed violently around them, but they stood nonetheless, ever defiant. But even stone can keep up such a precarious defense, and Legolas knew it. Eventually, the rock would erode, and so would his heart.
As he climbed onto his favorite perch, the thought suddenly struck him to look behind. There, some distance behind, walking in the exact same steps as Legolas, was a man. He was tall and heavily cloaked, all in black. The hood of his cloak left a shadow on his face, and a mark of foreboding on Legolas' heart. But he gave the man little heed, and continued his climb to the top of his mount. There he sat, facing the sea. Now he could feel the cool ocean spray on his face with every slap of the waves.
"How rare it is to find an Elf in these lands; and rarer still to find him alone. That is unwise, my friend."
Legolas glared at the man. "Do you mean to threaten me?"
"Why should I threaten you? One of the Silvan Elves, who lighten hearts at their very appearance."
"You needn't be so insulting." Legolas said, and looked back to the Sea.
"I apologize. I mean to be truthful, not insulting."
Legolas regarded him again, and was shocked to see him standing directly beneath. He was leaning on the rock with his elbows, hands on his face, watching Legolas cautiously. The man's face was young and fair, and his unspoken eyes were blue, with white caresses, like the Sea itself. This only made him look more sinister, though Legolas could not place why. All his mannerisms were unnerving. Inside, Legolas felt the need to get away. His intuitions screamed at him for remaining. He can only do harm! Why do you remain?
Yet, the door now stood before him, and Legolas was determined to open it.
"Do you mind?" Legolas asked.
"I was about to ask you." The man replied, with a shrug of his broad shoulders.
Legolas decided he'd had enough. "What do you want? Tell me, or leave me in peace."
The man pulled himself onto the rock next to Legolas and looked evenly into his eyes. Legolas raised his hand in reaction to the sudden movement, and went to push him off again. But slowly, his hand froze in the air. In fact, he found he couldn't even flinch. Something about those eyes bore so deeply into his soul, that it captivated him. He silently cursed himself for being so weak. He tried again to move his wrist.
The man reached up and experimentally put his thumb on Legolas' forehead. "You know, Master Elf, I think I like you better when you are unable to speak."
Legolas couldn't even grimace. He could only return the glare.
The man pushed Legolas onto his back, and began to search his pockets. Finally, Legolas found the stamina to move again. He threw up his hand and hit the man in the nose with the palm of his hand. The man jumped back and grabbed the injury, blood oozing from his hands and onto Legolas' tunic.
Legolas tried to push himself up, but he was still stiff and lethargic from the enchantment. The man pulled him up by the shirt collar and pushed him off the rock. Legolas' head hit another boulder and he slipped into blackness. The man leapt easily off the rock and landed next to him. He pulled out a dagger, a weapon he had formerly concealed. He leaned over Legolas and slit his throat. He continued his search and left, leaving Legolas bleeding on the shore.
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Those That Wander
Legolas managed to slip away from the crowded city-fare of Minas Tirith, as he had done nearly everyday now. His friends knew he traveled to see the surf of Belegaer, and with many of their own businesses to attend to, they left him to his seclusion. Arwen, the Lady of Rivendell, would be coming in three days. After her arrival, Aragorn would be crowned King, and they would wed. It was a marvelous occasion for Gondor. Legolas promised to stay for the marriage, but that was all. He feared the call of the Sea.
Yet, he was drawn to it also. Many are warned to avoid the door that will seal their fate. Most of them do. But Legolas was not one of those people. Curiosity may kill the cat, but one day, it will genocide his people.
This is why Legolas came often, and alone. He was not afraid to challenge his fate, but it was needless to draw others into it. They wouldn't understand anyways.
He could see it now, though it was still far away. It seemed to tower above him, like so many buildings of the city, except it was wider and fiercer. Even from this distance, he could see the surf issuing over its belly. A salt breeze licked his face and combed his hair. It chilled him to be so close, and he drew his cloak more closely about him. Despite all his troubles and fears he continued, like a loving child to an abusive father.
Legolas set foot upon the beach's scattered sands, never sinking like a mortal might've, and strode effortlessly across the beaten shore. Broken sand hid any paths that might lead the Elf, but he needed it not. He knew full well where he was going.
He soon found a place where several large boulders stood in a stance against the angry ocean. The tide frothed violently around them, but they stood nonetheless, ever defiant. But even stone can keep up such a precarious defense, and Legolas knew it. Eventually, the rock would erode, and so would his heart.
As he climbed onto his favorite perch, the thought suddenly struck him to look behind. There, some distance behind, walking in the exact same steps as Legolas, was a man. He was tall and heavily cloaked, all in black. The hood of his cloak left a shadow on his face, and a mark of foreboding on Legolas' heart. But he gave the man little heed, and continued his climb to the top of his mount. There he sat, facing the sea. Now he could feel the cool ocean spray on his face with every slap of the waves.
"How rare it is to find an Elf in these lands; and rarer still to find him alone. That is unwise, my friend."
Legolas glared at the man. "Do you mean to threaten me?"
"Why should I threaten you? One of the Silvan Elves, who lighten hearts at their very appearance."
"You needn't be so insulting." Legolas said, and looked back to the Sea.
"I apologize. I mean to be truthful, not insulting."
Legolas regarded him again, and was shocked to see him standing directly beneath. He was leaning on the rock with his elbows, hands on his face, watching Legolas cautiously. The man's face was young and fair, and his unspoken eyes were blue, with white caresses, like the Sea itself. This only made him look more sinister, though Legolas could not place why. All his mannerisms were unnerving. Inside, Legolas felt the need to get away. His intuitions screamed at him for remaining. He can only do harm! Why do you remain?
Yet, the door now stood before him, and Legolas was determined to open it.
"Do you mind?" Legolas asked.
"I was about to ask you." The man replied, with a shrug of his broad shoulders.
Legolas decided he'd had enough. "What do you want? Tell me, or leave me in peace."
The man pulled himself onto the rock next to Legolas and looked evenly into his eyes. Legolas raised his hand in reaction to the sudden movement, and went to push him off again. But slowly, his hand froze in the air. In fact, he found he couldn't even flinch. Something about those eyes bore so deeply into his soul, that it captivated him. He silently cursed himself for being so weak. He tried again to move his wrist.
The man reached up and experimentally put his thumb on Legolas' forehead. "You know, Master Elf, I think I like you better when you are unable to speak."
Legolas couldn't even grimace. He could only return the glare.
The man pushed Legolas onto his back, and began to search his pockets. Finally, Legolas found the stamina to move again. He threw up his hand and hit the man in the nose with the palm of his hand. The man jumped back and grabbed the injury, blood oozing from his hands and onto Legolas' tunic.
Legolas tried to push himself up, but he was still stiff and lethargic from the enchantment. The man pulled him up by the shirt collar and pushed him off the rock. Legolas' head hit another boulder and he slipped into blackness. The man leapt easily off the rock and landed next to him. He pulled out a dagger, a weapon he had formerly concealed. He leaned over Legolas and slit his throat. He continued his search and left, leaving Legolas bleeding on the shore.