01.24.03 - hi, I have updated again. Part VI of Solitude… I still haven't gotten over my lost reviews yet, but I'm recovering!
Anyway, on with the show!
Disclaimer: Characters © J.R.R. Tolkien ~ Fanfic? MINE!
Part VI : Anticipating
The prince met her hand with his own, "Mae Govannen (happily met) Arwen, I am Legolas Greenleaf Thranduillion (son of Thranduil)."
Arwen was shocked, this was the royal prince of Greenwood the Great, the acknowledged 'wimp' of all the wood elves, but there he was, standing tall, and proud in all his glory --
with that very unique mask. Arwen giggled, she never saw anything so peculiar in her life before.
She didn't dare say what she thought of his mask of course, it would be impolite.
The idea of hiding your face in a celebration dedicated for you was indeed bizarre, how ironic for she also thought of it as appealing. There was something behind the disguise though, something that she couldn't figure out, its as if she was drawn to it.
He smelled nice, aromas of herbs and blossoms was radiating from his lean body. His silver mask gleamed and covered the whole of his face however it didn't hide his dark sapphire eyes which she thought was extremely alluring.
He reminded her so much of…him.
Quite truthfully she didn't imagine that Legolas would look so valiant, lithe, and tall. And she never thought that he can deliver a decent conversation with anybody. She always fancied him to be scrawny, thin, and stutter a lot in accordance to what his own father said about him.
His strong grip on her hand woke her up from her reverie. She shook her head to rid of her thoughts as she felt his cool smooth skin against her own when they shook hands.
She took her hand back lightly and she curtseyed at his presence.
"Your majesty, it is a pleasure to have finally met with you."
"Ahh, the pleasure is all mine Lady Arwen," He stooped down to kiss the knuckle of her hand. "A beauty like yours should never be left unattended."
Arwen felt the cold steel against her hand, and she shuddered, delighted by his dashing spirit and valor.
"My lord is too kind…" She replied timidly. Despite the steel barrier on his face she can feel that he was smiling at her.
"Prince Legolas --"
"Call me Legolas please," he insisted.
"Legolas. Pray tell me what that mask is for?" She questioned.
"Ahh. Yes. I have a nasty scar across my face. I don't want it to be seen. I have received It whilst I was practicing with my sword." He answered weakly. "I hope it won't leave a scar. It's not that deep really."
"I see… I hope my lord recovers soon." She said.
Legolas writhed, feeling uncomfortable by the minute. He wasn't very good at lying. "As much as I desire to converse more with you my lady, I'm afraid I must attend to my father, I will see you again tonight at the ball. Hopefully you will save a dance for me?" He asked with a twinkle in his eyes. "You most delight me… The fairest of them all."
"Also, I thank you for your concerns and well-wishes. Lady Arwen I will see you again tonight, but for now fare-thee-well." He bowed courteously , and left for his father's chambers.
Arwen watched as the prince walked off. What she experienced today was far from what she expected to be.
---
Legolas knocked at his father's door. And a booming sound from an irritated king answered. "Who is it!? If this is about the garden's flowers being all dead go bother the gardener about it!"
The prince sighed. "Father, its me Legolas, I have the need to ask you something, if I'm not bothering you of course. But this is of serious matter."
"Enter young Greenleaf. I'm sorry about my irritated behavior today, damn servants keeps on pestering me about the dead plants outside the palace. I am a king for valor's sakes, not a gardener! I worry about more important things than some malnourished weed!"
Legolas entered his father's room, he noticed that the king was haphazardly signing piles and piles of documents with a quill.
"Father…"
Thranduil stopped, and looked up to his son.
"Oh dear gods, son! What is this folly!?" he cried, standing up from his chair, referring to his mask.
"Father, let me explain--"
"Do you intend on wearing this tonight??"
"Yes, well--"
"Young elf, what is the explanation for this! This is madness!"
"I have a shameful slash on my face adar (father). From swordplay." He lied.
"Sword play by yourself? Young Greenleaf I don't believe your lies"
"I practiced with a dummy."
Thranduil skillfully pulled the mask from his face, and Legolas hung his head, afraid by the king's reaction.
"Legolas, what is the meaning of this? Why are you hiding your face? I don't see any wounds, why do you lie?"
"Father, please let me keep this," taking the mask from his father's hands. "I don't want to be recognized. Please, I beg of you, I will tell you in time, it is complicated --"
"Then why don't you start now so you'll make it less complicated???"
"It is a lady sir, I have lied to her my identity, I want to be accepted, and I am afraid she will find out who I am, and soon she too, will scorn me. Father, I am not blind, I see what tattles goes around the palace and I am more than ashamed and humiliated. And it hurts me, please…" he begged
"Legolas…"
"Father, I know you do not approve, but I wish this. I wish this for my birthday, I wish to be accepted. And I can never be accepted like this!" He broke, pointing madly to himself, as if he was a cancer to the elven society.
He continued his eyes watering, "I want to start anew, build a new life. See what is out there when I am not who I really am. I want to see what people would think of me if I'm not prince."
Thranduil sighed, acknowledging his son's bitter emotions. He lifted his hand to massage his aching temples, as he contemplated Legolas' distress.
"Are you sure this is not about winning the lady's heart?" The king asked with a lifted eyebrow.
"N-n-no…This is of my personal dilemma my lord. It does not concern or regard others. It wasn't my plan to make her a part of this, if a dwarf was there, then I reckon I would do the same thing with the dwarf." He laughed weakly, trusting that the humor would make the king believe. But Thranduil knew better, he acted wisely and decided not to ask more.
"Very well young Greenleaf. You can wear the mask if you want…"
"Adar! (father) I very much thank you. Worry not, I shall explain to the guests." He beamed happily.
He groaned. "Hopefully they'll be stupid enough to believe that you do have a nasty gash on your face."
He turned his heels to leave, but Thranduil stopped him.
"Oh young prince?"
"Yes sir?"
"Have you practiced for your performance yet?"
"Yes I have m'lord."
"I wish you good luck my son. I have brought you something you might take interest in, you will receive it when you pass the test."
He walked to his closet and brought out 6 silver daggers made out of pure mithril.
"It is very light, light as a feather. Yet…"
he took out one dagger, and sliced it through a diamond chunk that served as a décor. The blade slid through the crystalline gem with the likeness of how a bread knife would slice through a butter.
"…It can cut through everything, easily."
Legolas watched in amazement. "My Father gave it to me when I was knighted officially, and now I present it to you. As a gift, when you pass your test." He returned one of the daggers with the rest of it.
The prince fingered the daggers, feeling its coldness and lethality.
"I remembered how you always had a fascination for daggers."
"I love it. Father I will not disappoint you."
Thranduil smiled earnestly. "Son, you will never disappoint me."
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Too short? Bleh. Review as usual. Please.