A/N: Okay, here it is! Legolas and Ziendriel finally talk! I just hope it's not too icky-wicky, mushy-wushy for ya!
Chapter 32
Two Days Later
Ziendriel smiled to herself as she ran through the gardens of the main house, occasionally glancing over her shoulder. In the distance she heard her sister call out her name again, the exasperation clear in her voice. Ziendriel just giggled to herself, then quickly ducked into a nearby bush.
She watched as a few moments later, Ariel came stomping down on the garden path, mumbling to herself. From her hiding place, Ziendriel could see the frown creasing her little sister's fair face; it took everything she had to hold back her laughter at the sight.
"Ziendriel!" Ariel yelled, throwing her hands up in frustration, "This is not amusing!" She paused for a moment, glancing around the gardens, listening. Finally, she sighed. "You should be resting, sister dear!" she added, "Velia might have cleared you but Mama wants you home and in bed!"
Ziendriel merely smiled, silently shaking her head. Earlier that morning, Velia had examined her in her room at the House of Healing and proclaimed her healed enough to return home. Her eyes had readjusted to light faster than the Healers had anticipated and she would no longer need to walk with her hood pulled up during the day. The knife wound and the torn skin at her wrists and ankles were now smooth and pink, leaving behind scarcely visible scars, if any. The bruising from the beatings she had received were now turning yellow and fading, while the claw marks from Adrianna's nails had all but disappeared. The skin of her burned hand had been saved, too; Velia had worked hard to heal it, applying a foul-smelling salve that glooped and piled upon her hand for three days straight. The pink skin that had appeared underneath the blackened and peeling skin had been a welcomed sight to both of them.
All of this, however, did not change the overprotective nature of her mother. Once Lilia Yalith had been informed of her daughter's impending homecoming, she had the servants quickly dust and clean the entire house before allowing Ziendriel home, saying, "I will not allow germs or dust to hinder my daughter's healing!" And when she had Ziendriel in the house, she refused to let her out. It had been strict orders that she go straight to her room and to bed and stay there. Ziendriel had felt herself going crazy after only an hour of bed rest.
She had tried to go downstairs to retrieve a book from her father's study, hoping to be able to stretch her legs with the short distance. But, upon opening her door, she had found two servants standing guard. They had told her she was not allowed out of her room and that they would gladly fetch anything she wanted. After a few protests that fell on deaf ears, Ziendriel had retreated back to her bed, while one of the servants went downstairs to fetch her book.
The book, nor the afternoon meal, had not raised her spirits. The familiar restlessness in her legs was now becoming unbearable and Ziendriel knew that pacing her room would not dissipate it. So she had done what any Elf who had been confined to a bed for the last week or so would do.
She climbed out her window.
A large tree stood right beside her bedroom window, its long branches reaching out just below the window sill, creating nice and sturdy footholds. She had been using this tree as a secret escape since she had been a mere elfling and hoped that her parents did not know of it. If they did, they gave her no indication.
Her escape had been nice and quiet and Ziendriel had felt pleased with herself. However, Ariel had just entered the room just as Ziendriel had started to walk away, and discovered her sister's escape.
And thus was the reason the Yalith sisters were now playing an impromptu game of tag.
Ariel was now pacing the path in front of her sister's hiding spot, once again mumbling under her breath. After a few moments of this, she angrily stomped her foot and stalked off and away, yelling, "Mama is not happy, Ziendriel!"
Ziendriel watched as her sister disappeared around the corner, then quietly laughed. She found it amusing whenever her sister was upset, for it did not compliment her beauty. And, it was not that she belligerently disobeyed her mother so willingly; she just needed to move around, to be able to encircle herself in the wonderful atmosphere of her home. She missed the forest, the sunlight, the air; she needed to be out there, walking among the falling leaves and the sweetly fragrant air.
She needed to be an Elf of Mirkwood.
The moments passed and Ziendriel finally emerged from her bush. With a quick glance, she saw no sign of her sister and quickly disappeared down the opposite direction of the path. A tiny breeze fluttered across her face, causing her to smile as she inhaled it. She broke out into a run as she allowed the wind to swirl around her, flinging her arms out towards the sky, welcoming the sun to her. She laughed, merrily as she reached the end of the path and continued into the forest.
She had missed being in the forest, missed the way the sun filtered in between the lush leaves of the tall trees. She had missed the smells of the earth and of the foliage, missed the scurrying animals that hid among the trees and brush. She stopped for a moment, allowing herself to revel in the sight before her, then let out a delighted laugh. There was something in the air that agreed with her, causing her entire body to tingle with happiness.
With Ariel no longer chasing her, Ziendriel was finally able to contemplate the direction she wished to go. She glanced slowly to her left, then to her right. After a brief moment of deliberation, she took off running into the forest straight ahead.
Legolas held his sides as he roared with laughter. He looked at Lorith, who was openly glaring at him. "Where has your concentration gone to?" he jested, chuckling.
Lorith grunted, his frown deepening. "You cheated!" he exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at him. He shook his head when the prince continued to laugh. "I would have made the shot if you hadn't distracted me," he grumbled, glancing at his arrow imbedded in a tree a few feet away from the target.
"So you admit that Ariel is a distraction?" Legolas asked, smugly.
"When you shout her name as I release my arrow," Lorith returned, "then yes, I would call it a distraction!" Annoyance flashed in his eyes as he realized his face was burning.
Gragoc laughed. "I do not think that a mere shout would distract you," he announced, smirking, "Methinks it is the maiden that claims the name that has your attention." He knowingly winked at Legolas and Jhad who stood nearby.
Lorith felt his face flush, then turned back to the target. "Are we in a competition here or not?" he demanded, grabbing another bow from his quiver. He held it so tightly, it was close to snapping in half.
Legolas laughed. "By all means," he said, gesturing to the target, "I believe it is still your turn." He stepped back from his sulking friend and waited until he had notched his arrow before adding, "If you are able to concentrate, that is." He chuckled when he heard his friend growl.
Lorith pulled back his arm and took careful aim. He was not really angry with the prince; after all, he was usually the one to instigate all the mocking and jesting, so he could of course handle any teasing that came his way. What he was angry with was the fact that he became a blushing elfling every time Ariel's name had been thrown into the conversation. He had been infatuated with her since the day he had met her and during her abduction, he had come to realize that he genuinely cared for her. It was a great relief to his shoulders and to his heart that he recognized this; unfortunately, it also dictated he be teased mercilessly by his friends about it.
Taking a deep breath, Lorith checked his aim and was about to release his bow when he heard Legolas shout, "Hold!" The command was directed at him and had such urgency in it that Lorith felt his hand jolt, releasing his arrow. He watched as it shot through the hem of a dark blue dress, then buried itself in the dirt beneath it.
All four elven-lords stood silently, the shock written on their faces as Ziendriel said, "If you wanted to talk to me that badly, Lorith, I would have obliged; you need not pin me to the ground." There was an amused smile on her face as she bent down and gently tugged at the end of the arrow. When it refused to budge, she straightened up and returned her eyes to them. "Must I faint first to receive aid?" she demanded, arching a brow at them.
At that, they all sprung into action, rushing towards her side. Lorith reached her first, the shock still on his face. "I apologize, Ziendriel!" he exclaimed, almost horrified, "I did not see you! I would never have shot at you on purpose!" He bent down then, slapping away Gragoc's hands, which had been working on pulling out the arrow. Gragoc grunted and punched him in the arm.
They were surprised when they heard her laughing. She stopped when she found their eyes on her, but did not cease the amused smile on her lips. "I fear it is I who is in need of apologizing," she told them, "For in my happiness of being back in the woods, I did not heed where I was wandering." She smiled sheepishly.
Despite his shock of having Ziendriel before him, Legolas found himself smiling at her. She clearly was on the mend and her good humor had not suffered from her ordeal; at least from what he could tell. Velia had said, through his daily inquires of her, that Ziendriel had been begun coping with the torrid emotions that plagued her and occasionally faltered. But those, Velia had assured him, was becoming far and in between. He watched as she began to giggle as she watched the other three argue over which method would be best to remove the arrow. It was a welcomed sight to his heart to see her smiling, to see the light in her eyes had not been diminished.
"Can we not just tear the hem?" she suggested, amid their arguing. She laughed openly at the disbelief in their faces at the suggestion. "It is, after all, just a dress," she added, "I could have it repaired before the end of the day. Granted, you do not tear it too much." She looked expectantly at them.
Lorith glanced at Jhad, who was glancing at Gragoc, who was looking at him. It was obvious they were trying to decide who would do such a thing and looking very nervous about it indeed.
Finally, Legolas sighed in exasperation and stepped forward. "Oh, I will do it!" he said, bending down. He got a good grip on the protruding end of the arrow and pulled. After a moment of twisting and tugging, the arrow slid easily out of the dirt and through the thin material. He stood up, then froze when he found himself just inches from Ziendriel.
For her part, Ziendriel was just as surprised. She found herself staring back at him, unsure of what to do, but knew that she did not want to move away from him. This was the first time in a long time that she had been near him and she found his presence very comforting.
Jhad, Lorith and Gragoc watched the two with great amusement. It was obvious what the couple felt for one another and it was obvious that the feelings were returned and wanted. The glanced at one another, then discreetly removed themselves from the area.
Legolas did not notice his friends' departure. He was too caught up in the dancing sunlight in Ziendriel's eyes. It reminded him of the time he had seen the dancing fairy lights in Lothlorien; the sight of the tiny creatures flapping their silvery wings in the moonlight had very nearly taken his breath away. But, it was nothing now compared to Ziendriel's eyes. He felt himself being drawn into them, then realized his mouth had gone dry and a large lump had formed in his throat. He swallowed hard, still glancing at her and realized he needed to say something, anything, to keep her in his presence.
"Where is your hood?" he managed to croak.
Ziendriel seemed taken aback by his question. She looked at him, puzzled, then giggled. "Pardon me?" she asked.
Legolas blushed. Idiot! He thought to himself, This is the first time you've been able to talk to her since everything happened and all you can think of to say is 'Where is your hood?'? You will be lucky if she does not walk away from you this moment! Aloud, he said, "Velia told me of the temporary damage to your eyes. I merely wondered why your hood is not up in such bright sunlight."
Ziendriel smiled. "My eyes have healed more quickly than Velia anticipated," she replied, "In fact it was only this morning that she allowed me to return home."
"Why are you not in bed?" he asked, concerned, "Should you not be in bed?" He became puzzled when she burst into laughter.
"Now you are beginning to sound like my mother!" she exclaimed, "And if that is the case, then I will take my leave for it is because of her motherly smothering that I escaped from the prison they call my room!" She said this all in jest, but Legolas took it to heart.
His hand shot out to gently capture her arm. "Then I beg of you to forgive me," he said, sincerely, "For I would that you stay here…with me." He felt her tense at his words and feared he had gone too far.
Ziendriel, however, blushed and turned away. "Of course, milord," she murmured. She felt her heart painfully thumping against her chest and her face grow warm. She was sure the prince could hear her heart beating and ducked her head in embarrassment.
Legolas saw her embarrassment and suddenly felt pleased. Judging by her actions, he felt a small spark of hope race through his body, for it seemed that she still felt the same way about him the night of the ball; before everything had come crashing down around them. He felt the smile on his face grow wider with each passing second.
He gently tugged on her arm and asked, "Will you walk with me?" There was a hopeful look in his eyes that endeared him to her even more that she could not refuse him. She nodded and tentatively took his arm.
For the longest time they walked in a comfortable silence, weaving in and out among the trees. The wind tickled their faces as it occasionally swept past them, blowing their hair about them. Legolas stole a glance at her often, watching as her face lit up at one thing or another. He could not believe that he had her here, holding onto him as they strolled through the forest.
They soon found themselves walking the familiar path of the gardens, but did not question how they had gotten there. Instead, the found their way to spot that their adventures had begun, the spot that held "their" bench.
Legolas waited until Ziendriel had comfortably seated herself, then sat down beside her. She had let go of his arm and he instinctively scooted closer to her, wanting to reacquaint himself with her touch. He stared at her as she watched the flowers gently sway in the wind, a soft smile tugging at her lips. He turned, trying to imagine the scene before him through her eyes.
He heard her sigh, then returned his gaze to her. He found her looking down at the bench, her fingertips gently tracing its surface. "This is where it all began," she whispered, her smile still there. She continued run her fingers over the bench, then stopped abruptly to look up at him, her eyes so startling green. "Is it not?" she asked.
Legolas felt the lump return to his throat and found he could not swallow it. He simply nodded, remembering the first time they had met. She had been sitting on this very bench, smiling and laughing to herself. He remembered the way the sunlight had fell upon her that day, much in the same way it did now. His heart was beginning to scream in protest, madly wondering where her own stood in the matter. He so desperately wanted to ask her, to know, but he was also afraid of that which he desired to know.
"I was happy that day," she was now saying, her voice barely a whisper, "Sitting here that day, surrounding myself with memories of my life is something I have always done to remind me of the happiness I have so I would not take it for granted. Memories have always sustained me and have always given me reason to greet each new day."
Legolas sat beside her, listening to her. Though her voice was soft, he could hear the belief that she held for her thoughts and knew that the words she spoke now came from her heart.
"Sitting here now," she continued, "after everything that has conspired, I now realize that memories are no longer enough for me; I do not think I have been able to acknowledge that until this moment." She turned to him then, her eyes clear and focused on him. "You have made realize this, Legolas," she told him, "You have made me realize that although memories of love are cherished, it does not take the place of having that love within your arms to touch and hold and to see before you. Love for another is something one must truly experience in order to cherish it in the way that is required." She smiled sadly to herself. "I thought that after I discovered your wager that I could live with simply the memories of our short time together; I thought that I could exist without having you in my life." She shook her head.
Legolas swallowed hard, then asked, ever so hesitantly, "And…now?"
She smiled at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "I was wrong," she whispered, "I have greatly missed you these past several days, but I fear it is my heart that has suffered the most." She took a deep breath, averting her eyes from him, making him realize her nervousness. When he gently took her hands in his, she smiled gratefully at him. "I plead with you now to allow me back into your life, in whatever capacity you desire," she said, blushing furiously at her boldness, "Whether it be friend…or more, I will accept it. You need only tell me." She ducked her eyes from him and waited.
Legolas stared at her, the disbelief evident in his eyes. He could not believe the words he had just heard from the maiden seated next to him. Despite everything she had been through—betrayal, kidnapping, torture, starvation—Ziendriel was now begging him to allow her back into his life. He was the one that should be doing so, for he was the one responsible for the deeds that had been executed against her. He marveled at the humility she now exhibited; where did all of her strength come from?
Ziendriel grew more and more nervous the longer the prince remained silent. She braved a glance at him and realized he was staring at her, a large smile gracing his handsome face. Before she could question him, she felt his arms go around her, nearly crushing her to him. She heard herself gasp in surprise at such an action, but was silenced when in the next instant she felt his lips capture hers in the gentlest hold. Any resolve or doubt she had in her head or heart immediately melted, as she felt her mind revel in his kiss. Her body relaxed and she giggled at his surprise when she boldly kissed him back. He recovered quickly and eagerly returned the gesture, smiling against her lips.
When the kiss had ended, Legolas refused to let her go, but Ziendriel did not protest. They sat there, arms wrapped tightly around the other, their foreheads pressed together. Several moments of silence passed before Ziendriel giggled. "Was that merely a distraction or an answer to my plea?" she asked, smiling.
Legolas chuckled. "You will have to decide for yourself, melamin," he told her, kissing her once again.
She pretended to think, then said, "I will assume it means you love me; if not then I will gladly settle for your distractions anytime!" She laughed.
Legolas joined her, then quickly leaned in for another kiss.
Just around the corner from the kissing couple, Gragoc, Lorith and Jhad stood spying on them, the grins on their faces threatening to split their faces. They watched their friends for a moment longer, then quietly moved away.
High above on a balcony looking down upon the gardens, King Thranduil stood watching his son. He stood within the shadows of the balcony, much like the first time he had first spotted the young lovers in the gardens. He watched as Legolas stood from the bench and offered his hand to Ziendriel, who take it with a smile.
Thranduil smiled as he watched them walk away from the bench, his heart bursting with pride for the woman that had captured his son's heart. Her eloquent plea for mercy against those who had wronged her had been amazing and moving; his cabinet had spent less than a day deciding that her solution had been in the best interest for all those involved. It had actually been a relief to him, for he disliked the thought of exiling his own people, no matter what the crime.
He had held off telling Ziendriel about agreeing to her ideas, feeling a day or so would benefit the maiden. Seeing his son with her now, reaffirmed his wisdom in his decision.
Thranduil stood for a moment longer, before allowing a soft smile to break upon his face. A sudden wind swirled around him and he swore he felt the light brush of lips against his cheek. He closed his eyes and smiled, feeling the love and happiness of his wife had sent along the wind, all the way from her place in Valinor. It warmed his heart as he heard the whisper of her voice, knowing that what he felt now, would be experienced by his son and Ziendriel.