Part Two: Your Secrets
A/n: K, more lyrics for this one. 1 A.M. by Beautiful Creatures (a most kick ass band), but here's the part I mainly used to write this chapter.
I was just about a breath away
When I was thinkin' 'bout the words you tried to say
That you'd stand by me that you cared for me
But in the end you mother f***in' lied to me
1 A.M. and I'm cold again
I'm alone again and I need a friend
Feeling down in the dirt again
Getting burned again
Where the hell are you?
Disclaimer: Short disclaimer on the phoenixes. They're like the Harry Potter ones. If you haven't read Harry Potter, I'm very sorry to inform you, you have no taste in books. I will not explain phoenixes to a Harry-hater. Think large, extravagent bird. But pay attention to them anyway, they might become important. (Or they might not, I just enjoy taunting.)
Chapter Twenty-One: Call of the East
"Prince Legolas?"
Legolas sighed. How he loathed that title. When was the last time he heard his name? His REAL name? "I am he, what is it?"
The messenger elf drew himself up, importantly. "A message from the East. They are holding the trials in a few days, your presence is requested."
The prince shook his head. "Trials? I know nothing of it. I'm sure my father will be happy to go in my-"
"NO, your highness. They request your arrival, specifically."
Legolas wanted to slap the messenger for his insolence, but he shoved that thought away. It was nothing but a trait of his father's he did not want. "Allright," Still wanting to exercise his power, he added, "And do not interrupt me again, unless you want to be running messages on the stumps that were once your legs."
The poor messenger had began to sweat from the moment he dared to interrupt Legolas, so he bowed out as quickly as he could, trying to stop the shaking in his bones.
Legolas folded the letter up and slipped it into his robes. "The East..." He muttered to himself, he hadn't set foot there in eight hundred years. The loneliest eight hundred years of his life, after she had left. "Ha, here I am again. One A.M., feeling sorry for myself and longing for a lost friendship." The words left his mouth before he thought them and he felt the bitter stinging on his heart. He hadn't given up on her, he just liked to pretend he had. Heart, be still, no more of this. "KIRAN!"
"Sir? Did you call?" His red-haired servant poked his head in the room. He was no more than a boy, and would be going to the Castle in time.
Legolas fought the memories of the wretched place from his mind. "Ay, saddle my horse. I'm leaving."
The boy looked at him, confused. "Sir?"
"I am called to the East. Do as I say." He turned his back on Kiran and walked to his room. Kiran followed.
"Shall I tell your mother and father you have gone?"
"Yes, Kiran, now DO AS I SAY!" He snapped, annoyance turning to anger.
The boy winced and backed out of the room. "Yes, your highness."
Legolas sighed, putting some food in a bag for the trip. It wasn't his fault everyone was being so damned irritating. At least now he could get away from home for a few days. Everyone in the whole palace was insistant on him choosing a bride and preparing to take the throne and other things he should be doing. He would've much preferred not to do anything.
"Hmph, the East." He was still talking to himself when he entered the stables at daybreak. No one would be awake for another couple of hours, not even the garden phoenixes were stirring yet. "Is my horse ready?"
"Yes sir."
Legolas could tell from Kiran's voice that he was scared. He didn't waste time reassuring him. "I'll send word when I am to return."
"But sir, I won't be here," He looked ecstatic about it. "Who am I to turn my duties over to?"
"Whoever you feel is qualified. I trust your judgment." The prince trusted nothing of the sort, but he felt no need to say so. "I'll be back soon."
*~*~*~*
"Father? Has Prince Legolas come yet?"
King Felair did not look up from his book. "I told you, Filior, he is on his way. Why such urgency?"
The young prince shrugged. "Things would just... go a lot smoother if he came before the Northerners did, that's all."
The King finally glanced upward. "And why is that?" Filior smiled mysteriously and left the room. Felair looked back down. His son had been jumpy over these last days. They were sending one elf to go amongst mortals yet again. Lumaeus had been the last one to do such a thing. But now they had perfected the spell, now no elf would age past what they were considered in the mortal realm. It was safe, but Filior seemed more wary and distant since the topic arose. Felair couldn't have that. Not after his daughter had left him.
He slammed the book down. Thinking of that made him ill and he couldn't stand that. It hurt him just to look at his wife. Not even he knew what had become of his only daughter, and it was Minele who had driven her away.
"King Felair?"
The elder elf jerked himself from his thoughts. "Oh, well-met Prince Legolas." He remembered Legolas. The last time he saw the young one happy was with Elorelei. "You made good time."
"I had a good horse," he replied stiffly. The overall air of him was colder than when they last met. His family was turning him into the hard, dictating overlord they wanted him to be.
Felair sighed. "That is good."
The Prince shifted. "Pardon me, King Felair, but why was I summoned and not my father?"
"I don't know, it was on Filior's insistence you came at all." He looked around for a nearby maid. "Take Prince Legolas to his bedchambers, please."
He glanced at the maid, she looked terrified at the thought of showing him to anywhere. "I am sure I can find it for myself. I have not forgotten the palace walls." Believe me, I've tried.
Felair looked at him oddly for a moment then sighed. "Very well. And please, enjoy yourself before tomorrow night. The trials are exhausting."
"What trials?"
"We're choosing one to enter the mortal realm again. It is grueling."
Legolas knew this all too well. He father had been present at the first trals when Lumaeus was selected. They were the only thing King Rykim talked about with fear in his voice. "WHY?"
"Tomorrow," the King said simply, then left the room.
*~*~*~*
Legolas stared out over the green hills of the East. Farther still were mountains, and farther still was his home. He liked it much better when he wasn't there.
"Homesick already?" A familiar voice.
Legolas turned. "Filior... You have grown." He had, his hair was no longer a frosty blonde, but snow white like his father's. His hair wasn't tied back, but worn loosely, without braids to hinder it. He was well-muscled and had the look of a great sword-fighter, but his sea-green eyes were cool, playful, and betrayed too much about his true self.
He nodded. "I can't say you have, except you look a little more..." He searched his vocabulary for an unoffending word.
"Old?" Legolas suggested. The younger prince nodded again. He laughed. "I suppose so... Why did you want me here, Filior?"
"You miss her," He replied. Immediately, Legolas did all he could not to listen but the words bored into his mind. "You miss her as much as I do."
Legolas's short fuse was shortening quickly. "And what of it?"
"Someone," The prince sounded almost gleeful. "Someone is coming who will be able to find her-"
"NO ONE can find Elorelei, Filior. SHE IS GONE. You waste your time-"
The prince was adamant. "This elf is a great hunter with many followers. They will find her, she will come back."
Legolas finally could take no more. "Out of my way, your brains have been in addled in my absence." The door slammed behind him and Filior was left alone.
"... I wonder when he'll remember that this is his room?" He said aloud, then turned and walked out through a different door. He spent the whole night in his own room, waiting for tomorrow night's trials.
*~*~*~*
"Where are you going, young prince?"
Legolas stopped walking, or rather stomping, down the hall at the sound of Lumaeus's voice. Young? You think me young? I am 1,600. I am not young. He willed himself into not speaking these disrespectful words and instead said, "To the forest, to clear my head for tomorrow."
The old man smiled. "My granddaughter's forests," He looked lost in a world he invented in his head. Legolas wanted to turn around and scream that the man's granddaughter was gone. Six hundred years had he waited for her, and she never even sent so much as a letter. Lumaeus looked back up. "Be careful," he warned. "Do not harm anything there, or she will know."
Why did everyone assume she was alive? It infuriated Legolas beyond all reason. She was not coming back, she was gone for good. Dead or alive, he didn't care. He felt abandoned and the mentioning of her around every corner he turned was driving him insane. Still, he held himself together and nodded stiffly in reply.
The night air gave him a type of freedom he felt almost as soon as he stepped outside. The forest sat still, as if it were patiently waiting for him. He was drawn to it, like it was the thing that had called him here. It also released emotions he did not want to feel. Loneliness, hurt, helplessness, and a bubbling rage. He could only say one thing when he was like this. Even if she didn't hear him, he had to say it. His eyes stung and his throat choked on itself.
"You promised." He said to the forest. She wasn't there, but he could tell it had been hers. She was still hanging in the air, still connected to this place. "You promised to come back." The forest swayed soothingly, but it did no good. He sat there, listening to the trees and waiting. He shut his eyes as he realized it. For three hundred years, he thought he had given up. But here he was. Back in the East. Waiting.