A/N: I hope you are enjoying this so far. I don't think it will be that long of a fic. I read it to my mom last night, and she couldn't stop laughing at the thought of Legolas and Aragorn (She thinks Viggo is HOT), but would only say: "That is very well written….but PLEASE, don't write any more." HEHE This was my first attempt at a slasher, and I just don't think I have the talent for it…I take too much time getting to the good stuff…too much talk and not enough action, lol. So, without further ado…chapter 2.
"Have you found no remedy for your ailment, my son?"
Thranduil stared at his son, his mouth turned downward in a concerned frown. He worried about his son and wished to know what had caused him such sorrow that he had returned to his home unannounced. Whatever it was, the king was distressed by the change of demeanor in his only son.
"It is nothing that will not pass."
The remark had been the only words spoken from Legolas' lips that day. How wounded Thranduil felt in his heart to know that his child would not share his worries and sorrows. Speaking on the matter might ease the burden that weighed heavily upon him. Still, the king knew that no amount of pleading or coaxing would drag the private ache from the prince. He was too much alike to his father, and Thranduil knew it well. They were ones to keep affairs of the heart private.
"Very well, we will speak no further on the matter. Perhaps some sparring with Cargaladion would lift your spirits, even if only for a while. He is training some of the young ones in knife play and can be found in the sporting hall. If for no other than your dear father, please do this."
Legolas smiled weakly and nodded his agreement. He would seek out Cargaladion and spar with him for a while. It would serve to take his troubled mind off of Aragorn, and he welcomed the prospect. For weeks he had done nothing but think of Aragorn and their fiery outing in Lorien. The ranger's jealousy had shown itself one too many times, and Legolas had grown exhausted with the confrontations. His heart lied with Estel, and had been given to no other. But, his heart had not been the source of the conflict; it had been his body.
'How could he even consider such a thing: that I would give my body to another, Haldir least of all. If either of us has reason for distrust, 'tis I, for he has yet to divulge the secret of our relationship to Arwen. I know full well his reasons for that!"
Huffing inwardly, Legolas bowed to his father and made his exit from the hall. He knew that Aragorn's meetings with Arwen entailed more than empty words of love; there were also passionate embraces. If Aragorn wished to continue coveting the evenstar, then Legolas would give purpose to the ranger's jealousy. The more he thought on it, the more he angered. Aragorn was most probably with the evenstar at that very moment. Too much time had already passed, and Legolas had grown weary of the waiting. He would either have to move on, or do something drastic as a means of release. Cargaladion was tall, strong, and fair. He would make an excellent proxy for the unfaithful Estel.
The sounds of battle could be heard from outside the sporting hall. Cargaladion was a fierce soldier, and his mastery of knives was rivaled only by his mastery of a bow. Many an Orc had died by his hand, and the young elves of Mirkwood aspired to the greatness of the elf knight.
It had been ages since their last meeting, and Legolas wondered if he would embrace him as before when they were young and would sneak off for trysts in the forest. Taking a deep breath he pushed the doors open and entered, the sounds of clashing steel greeting him on the other side.
Legolas released an audible gasp as a knife flying rapidly in his direction, landed firmly in the ground near his foot. Cargaladion stood smiling, he had thrown the knife with purpose, to demonstrate his skill and also to catch the young prince off his guard.
"You should be more careful, my prince. Had I been an Orc, that would not have been aimed at your feet."
Legolas smiled. There could be no comparison between the elf warrior and a vile, despicable Orc, and Cargaladion knew it. There was an air of vanity about him as there always had been.
"Ah, but were you an Orc, I daresay you would be one of the loveliest creations of Sauron ever seen."
Dirty blonde hair swayed from side to side and Cargaladion laughed. The prince had not changed in all his years of absence from Mirkwood.
"I see you are the same sweet tongued rogue you have always been, Legolas."
'You have no idea how sweet.' Legolas thought to himself.
All the accusations of Estel would soon have merit, though his heart still lied with the rugged would-be king. Gazing on the fair form of Cargaladion, the elven prince knew his task would be an easily accomplished one.
"My father thought your company to be the ease of my troubled mind, but as knives fly around me I am beginning to have my doubts."
Legolas smiled broadly and began walking toward one of Cargaladion's students. When he had reached the boy, he motioned for his knives, and the boy obliged.
"Ah, green leaf, you seek to challenge me. Were we on the archery range, I might be worried, however, you have stepped into my territory. Have you any last words before we begin?"
"Yes, let us have a wager on the outcome of our match. If you are the victor, you may have whatever you ask."
Cargaladion eyed him warily and stroked his smooth chin.
"And if you are the victor? What then would the Prince of Mirkwood ask of a simple soldier?"
Legolas eyed his rival from golden head to booted foot.
"I think you know the compensation, should I win this match."
"It appears that either way, we both will reap the spoils of victory my lord." A twinkle shone in the soldier's gray eyes.
And reap the spoils they both would.
The students watched as their mentor and their prince circled one another, knives in fisted hands. Cargaladion clothed in a tunic of midnight and Legolas in a tunic of green, they would be easily distinguished from one another.
Soon, the clash of steel against steel resonated throughout the hall, and when it seemed they were evenly matched, Legolas kicked a firmly planted leg that sent Cargaladion to the ground with a thud. The prince kneeled down, bringing his face within a hairs' breadth of Cargaladion's.
"It appears that I am the victor. I will collect my reward at your ready sir Cargaladion."
Cargaladion gasped for breath, huffing in exhaustion. For the first time in his long life, losing a battle had not been the displeasure he thought it would be.