Disclaimer: All characters and places belong to or inspired by Tolkien.

El Gwedh Enni
(A) Star is Binding Me

Chapter IX – Disturbance


"Are you not coming?" Celebhil asked as he rose from his seated position.

"Nay," replied Legolas, lifting his head to glance up at his friend and then to the treetops. "I feel much more at ease now, but there is still much to consider about what should be done about the woman. Besides, the sunlight is warm and the grass soft here."

Celebhil could not help but smile as Legolas stretched out to lie in the grass, his hands pillowing his head and his eyes closing. He seemed to bask in the warmth of the sun, and a contented smile graced his fair features.

"It is good to see you like this, Legolas. I—," Celebhil stopped short, the harsh words they had said to each other only a few days ago coming suddenly to mind. He wished not to cause such a quarrel again. "The trees sing of strange things. Do you hear it?"

Legolas' brow creased in concentration and Celebhil immediately regretted giving voice to his observation. Legolas no longer heard tree song as well as he used to. "I hear it well," he said eventually, much to the relief of Celebhil. "They seem to be waiting...watching. They are amused, I believe."

"Indeed, they are tittering with anticipation as well as amusement, though I know not what amuses them. You, perhaps," Celebhil said, chuckling. "Remember the time your sire found us napping on the forest floor?"

The smile returned to Legolas' face, more radiant than before, but his brows drew further together. "You foolish elflings will find yourselves as orc fodder or spider bait one of these days!" Legolas bellowed, eyes still closed. Several birds took quick flight from the trees overhead and a few squirrels ceased their chattering. "Perhaps you will not enjoy sleeping under tree bough so much if you were to have to patrol them from now until eternity."

Celebhil laughed uproariously. Legolas had intoned King Thranduil perfectly, as always. That the reprimand came with an expression quite different from the one the king usually wore added to the amusement he gained from the performance.

"He was correct, was he not?" Celebhil asked once his laughter began to settle. "I, for one, did not nap under tree for at least three hundred years after we finally finished that century-long assignment. Of all places he had to assign us, it had to be the northern borders. That was the most boring century of my life."

"It was not a century," Legolas said, opening one eye. "It was ninety-nine years." The eye slid shut. "And consider how Talathion felt. Then consider how I felt, stuck on countless patrols with one bored-to-death elf and one seething mad warder who would not let me forget that, once again, it was my actions for which he was being punished." Legolas sighed. "I still haven't slept under tree since, and I still will not have if you are going to stand there all day and block my sun."

"Are you saying you would like me to join you?" Celebhil asked playfully.

"No," came the curt reply. "Go away. You've gotten your story. Go blab it to Daewen and Mordil, if you must."

"It was a good story, Legolas."

"It was the truth," Legolas said, his voice firm, his jaw rigid.

"I am certain it was," Celebhil appeased with a note of glee as he bent down over Legolas, blocking the bright sunlight streaming through the forest canopy.

Legolas' eyes flew open, storm clouds of alarm and anger rolling in as he was met with the widening grin of his friend just a mere few inches away.

"Pleasant dreams, my sweet prince," Celebhil sang, kissing him quickly on his cheek and leaping back just in time and just far enough to avoid Legolas' counter-maneuver.

"Go find Daewen, Celebhil," Legolas ordered, glowering as he moved back into his stretched position in the grass once more. "And it will be the western wood for you!" he called out.

Celebhil ceased his buoyant steps. "I think not, Legolas. Privileges and liberties after all," he said mirthfully, spinning around to continue heading back to Edhilbar so that he could follow his prince's first order.

"Celebhil."

Legolas' voice was soft but stern, and Celebhil feared that he might have crossed the line. He turned around slowly to face his prince. A clod of dirt exploded as it hit him square on his forehead.

"It was not my aim," was all Legolas said, as he smiled pridefully and lay back down.

Celebhil was about to retort when he noticed Legolas held another clod of dirt in his other hand, and so decided it best to keep silent. Rubbing under his eyes and spitting dirt out of his mouth, he swiftly turned and left the prince to himself.

As he made the short journey back in the main village of Edhilbar, Celebhil found himself pondering over the story Legolas had told him. He still doubted it to be entirely true. Legolas' several insistences that it was truth, coupled with the reappearance of his fidgeting quirks, had served to further the elf's suspicions that it was not truth but that Legolas was hiding something else, though what that would be, he knew not.

Perhaps the woman really is in the glade, and he had more of an encounter with her than he wishes to tell of. Celebhil dismissed the foolish thought quickly. For whatever reason, the woman had been deathly afraid of them when she had awoken from her deep sleep. It did not seem likely that she would consent to any kind of contact with an elf, nor was it likely that Legolas would initiate such contact. The stories told and jests made around campfire of the prince's renowned experience with maidens, whether they be elf or mortal, were shared in good fun and had little basis in reality. Indeed, as far as Celebhil knew, Legolas had not been with another since he had returned home from the War of the Ring and established the elven colony in Ithilien.

Celebhil shook his head, abandoning the line of thinking, and returned to consider instead what purposes Legolas would have for not revealing the true reason he did not use the bow Galadriel had given him. Surely avoiding an awkward encounter with the woman, if he had really encountered her, and thus having to leave behind clothing and bow was not something of which to be so ashamed that one would feel the need to keep such an unfortunate occurrence to oneself. Celebhil was certain he would have made the same decision had he been in that situation. Of course, I would not have put myself in that situation in the first place. Yet Celebhil was not Legolas, and Legolas was whimsical like that. He could scarcely resist enjoying a relaxing dip in a pleasant stream whenever the mood took him, or when he found the need to think straight pressing, and at such times the prince gave little thought to consequences and even less attention to surroundings. Perhaps Legolas was speaking truth.

Then for what reason did he seek the comfort of the stream?
Celebhil questioned further. A troubled mind.... Legolas had said that, had he not?

Celebhil's stomach churned with worry that the sea-longing had engaged Legolas in yet another bout. He really should have been immune, or at least accustomed, to such feelings of fret and concern for his friend's well being by now. After all, he had had to both live and deal with the prince's moodiness ever since his return from the War of the Ring. He had witnessed too many times both the crippling and unhinging effects the sea-longing wrought on Legolas.

Celebhil pushed his ill feelings aside, recalling Legolas' earlier antics. The prince was in a much merrier state of mind as of late, more so than he had been in quite some time, and Celebhil told himself he had no real cause to be so concerned. After all Legolas had said the tree song had been strong and he seemed quite at ease lying beneath their boughs, listening to their deep musical voices. Perhaps it was possible for him to be content living under tree for a while longer.

But the Call of the Sea will one day take him from these shores, and it will be all too soon for him. Indeed, that was what saddened Celebhil most. For him, Legolas departing Ennor would mean nothing more than being separated from his friend for a short time until eventually the Call stirred within him and they were reunited on the shores of Valinor. For Legolas, however, leaving the shores of Middle-earth meant leaving behind dear friends whom he would never see again, from whom he would be sundered forever. Celebhil was not ignorant of the pain of sadness and regret that this knowledge caused Legolas. The prince had inherited the heart of his mother—whenever he gave his love, he gave it fully and without regard for what that love would cost him. He knew it would tear Legolas to pieces whenever he finally would succumb and follow the desire of his soul. It was cruel, for in answering the Call of the Sea, Legolas would quench the constant ache he had endured for so long, but his heart would throb with painful loss because of the permanent severing of friendships.

Celebhil sighed. Soon enough Legolas would be faced with making the choice to follow his soul rather than his heart, and when he did, Celebhil would be there to pick up the pieces. He was quite relieved that his misfortunate bungling of Legolas' "departing" words had been what it was. He had not looked forward to informing the other elves of Edhilbar of Legolas' departure, nor King Thranduil, nor Gimli and King Elessar for that matter. He was also quite relieved that Legolas had taken the misunderstanding well and had not been upset with him for thinking he would leave in such a hushed manner. Indeed, Celebhil was surprised Legolas had laughed about it and had appeared to even enjoy his blunder. Surprised, and relieved.

He was also relieved that it was only Talathion he had told of Legolas' departure, as that would make the emendation of his mistake much easier. He had not seen the warder since they had last spoken. Talathion had not taken the news well, which Celebhil regretted, but the warder would someday have to face the truth that Legolas would leave these shores and no longer have need of his protection. Celebhil did not understand Talathion's overly protective nature as of late. He knew not what he sought to protect Legolas from, nor why he fought so hard to protect him from whatever it was. True, the warder had always been watchful over his prince, King Thranduil's threats had assured that, but there was no reason now why he should be so overbearing. This was a time of peace—the threat of fell creatures that had served Saruman and Sauron had been greatly reduced, and those that remained were seldom foolish enough to venture into the wood or close to any civilization of elves or men. Additionally, Legolas had proven himself many times over to be a mighty warrior who could take care of himself.

Celebhil breathed a resigning sigh. He had known the warder for nearly three millennia, and he was certain it would take just as long to even begin to understand him and his ways. For whatever reason, Legolas' eventual departure would evidently be hard on Talathion, and again Celebhil vowed to himself to be there to pick up the pieces.

Suddenly Celebhil realized, Talathion still believes Legolas to have left.

Opposing thoughts crashed within his mind as he mulled over what to do to rectify the situation of which he had ultimately been the cause. He debated if he should go searching for Talathion, but he had no idea where to start his search. Besides, Talathion had probably gone to seek solitude in order to come to terms with his prince's departure, and thus would want to be left alone. If that was the case, Celebhil was certain he did not want to know in what condition he would find Talathion. Of course, it might provide a future means of extorting favors from the warder, Celebhil briefly considered, a smile tugging on his lips.

"Celebhil, where is Legolas?"

The sound of Daewen's frantic voice shunted all of Celebhil's whimsies and worries aside.

"Greetings to you too, beautiful one," he said, sweeping her hand up in his and kissing it.

"Celebhil, where is Legolas?" she asked again, more fervently.

"He is in one of the practice glades," Celebhil answered, wondering as to the reason he was feeling slightly jealous. "Why?"

"Thank Elbereth!" Daewen exclaimed, tucking a strand of dark hair behind an ear. "We have arrived in time. Has he said when he means to depart?"

"Daewen...." Celebhil stared at her, studying the distraught lines of her face. "How did you know? I mean, why did you think Legolas to be leaving? He is not, by the way."

"He isn't?" She sighed upon his nodded confirmation. "Then why did you tell Talathion he was? Celebhil, if this was your idea of a prank, it has gone horribly awry."

"It was not a—," Celebhil began, frustrated by her tone and feeling his concern for the warder's well being stir again. Taking in a cleansing breath, he started again. "I told Talathion so because I thought it true at the time. I now know otherwise. Forgive me if my honest misinterpretation of Legolas' words caused any trouble." He winced at the defensive tone his voice had taken. "Is Talathion well?" he asked, focusing on imparting his feelings of concern instead.

"I know not," she said, her brow furrowing even more, a sign that her anxiety continued.

"Then what is the problem? What has gone horribly awry?" Celebhil inquired. Sometimes I do not understand her at all. Daewen had a tendency to make a big deal out of something that any other would pay little heed. Normally he loved the fussy side of her nature as he took great pleasure in calming her woes, but at times it annoyed him to no end.

"Oh, Celebhil!" she cried, throwing her hands up. "Talathion went to Minas Tirith and informed King Elessar of Legolas' departure," she explained. "And King Elessar has come here, to Edhilbar, expecting that to be the case, though I suppose he might be quite relieved to find out otherwise...," she finished, tugging on a braid. Anxious hope colored her voice.

Celebhil's stomach plummeted.

"Ai, Valar."

~~~


Someone had been here. She was certain it was the same someone who had given her the cloak. The tunic, the trousers—they carried the same wooded scent.

He had left his bow and some arrows behind too. She knew not why. She had no use for them.

The bow—it was strung with the Lady's hair.

It was a fine gift, one that he would not so easily part with. He would come back for it.

And then it would begin.

Nay, it had already begun. As a star follows its set course, he had followed his.

And she would follow hers....

~~~


Aragorn stood in the doorway to Legolas' personal chamber, debating whether or not he should venture in further and look around more thoroughly. With the careful scrutiny of a Ranger's eyes, he had already determined with just a quick combing glance that nothing had changed since he had last been here. And that was nearly two years ago, he pointed out to himself, feeling regretful that their stations in life kept them from seeing each other more often.

Deciding that if Legolas had already departed then he would never know about this invasion of his privacy, Aragorn stepped into the room and walked over to the hearth. Upon the mantle, he counted the nine figures whittled from wood that stood grouped on the left and were similar to his own set which graced a small table back in his private apartment, and there on the right stood a small stone statuette carved by Gimli. Scattered between on the dustless mantle were other tokens—dried flowers of niphredil and egoloth* from the gardens of Arwen and the prince's mother, respectively; a splintered arrow, undoubtedly the same one that had once "accidentally" found itself pinning Gimli by the beard to a tree; a picture of the four hobbits sketched by the trembling hand of an aging Bilbo after he had finally begun to feel his years; and an old pipe of his that was given to the elven prince to be used as a snuffer only. Each piece that Legolas had collected over the years still remained, and this gave Aragorn hope that he had not missed saying farewell to his friend. Each piece also sat in exactly the same place it always had, and this caused him to chuckle, though it surprised him not in the very least.

Having grown up in a Noldorian household, Aragorn knew well the neat and orderly nature of elves, but Legolas took the meaning of those words to new heights. The Sindarin prince was obsessed with tidiness, and everything had its own designated and rightful place. Merry and Pippin had had quite the field day when Aragorn had accidentally let slip this fact one night during the first part of the Quest. For several days following the disclosure, they made it their mission to rearrange items within Legolas' pack whenever the elf scouted ahead. Aragorn had been amazed at how well the hobbits could hold back their snickers as Legolas would search through his pack trying to find whatever item he was looking for or dumping it out entirely and reorganizing it, all the while muttering some choice words in Avari and sending glares toward Gimli, whom he was certain had been the culprit, until finally the elf would storm off in a very unelvish huff, taking the pack with him. Of course, Aragorn was not at all innocent in the game, for it was he who was responsible for signaling when the elf was out of earshot, at which time the camp would fill with hobbit laughter, as well as a chuckle or two from wizard, man, and dwarf. Aragorn had been equally amazed that it took four occurrences until Legolas realized he should just take his pack with him whenever he scouted ahead.

Aragorn was still unsure as to whether Legolas had ever discovered the identities of the true culprits. The cooperative efforts of Gimli and he certainly kept the elf guessing. Legolas visited the king more frequently than Aragorn visited Edhilbar, and being royalty and a close friend he was given his own private quarters in which to stay whenever he was in the White City. Gimli had made similar arrangements for Legolas whenever he visited the Glittering Caves, the elf's rooms being along the outer wall of the caverns with several windows open to the outdoors. No one was allowed access to Legolas' rooms, save for the occasional servant who was under strict orders to clean only, never rearrange. This ensured that furniture and other items within the elf's rooms remained exactly how he had left them, how he wanted them. Of course, Aragorn and Gimli both allowed themselves access to the elf's rooms, and neither followed their own orders.

The game had quickly evolved into an art. Only one item was ever moved, and it was always subtle enough so that the elf would have difficulty discerning the change yet noticeable enough so as to drive said elf mad. The first night of Legolas' stays in his friends' cities was spent always with the elf scouring the room; he would pick up several items only to place them back down in exactly the same spot they had been. From the adjoining room, king or dwarf-lord or sometimes both would watch and listen victoriously. There were advantages to being a ruler of a city—rulers could have peeping and listening holes cut through walls.

A hollow pang of sadness coursed through Aragorn as he gently flicked the pipe with a finger. I suppose he'll never know.

Aragorn squared his shoulders and glanced about the room again. Legolas' cloak from Lorien, his silver-hafted knife, and his bow and quiver were all missing from their place behind the door. The candles distributed throughout had yet to be lit, and the bed did not look to have been slept in for days. Aragorn's scouring grey eyes eventually settled on a wooden chest that was against the wall next to the head of the bed. It stood perhaps five hands tall, and was nearly as wide and as deep. It bore no lock. Crossing over to the chest, Aragorn crouched down beside it and slowly traced the ornate oak leaf pattern.

He knew not why he was tempted to find out what lay within, for surely there was nothing in the chest that would confirm or deny whether or not Legolas had already departed. Furthermore, if he had missed Legolas, it would contain nothing that could alter the course the past few days had taken. Still, Aragorn felt a need to open it, and his curiosity was piqued. It was an odd place to keep a chest. He would have expected it to sit at the foot of one's bed, or perhaps near a writing desk, but Legolas kept this one beside the bed and he wondered why.

An image of the first time he had gotten caught snooping around in the prince's rooms in Mirkwood flashed through his mind, and he was nearly dissuaded from opening the chest. It was how Aragorn had discovered Thranduil's youngest son was just slightly obsessive and took not at all kindly to others disturbing his things. And you thought Elladan was bad. He had been met with a look that was both an icy glare and a fiery gaze, which had caused him to sputter out something that may have remotely sounded like an apology. Legolas had ripped the jeweled circlet off the Ranger's head and placed it back in its place on the vanity. Aragorn was still uncertain if Legolas' anger had been ignited due to his teasing of the prince or to his disturbing the elf's things. He had not been anxious to find out, and so never again messed with the prince's belongings nor gave voice to his opinions concerning the gaudy decorations King Thranduil expected his sons to wear.

The game he and Gimli played now with Legolas was merely that—a game, which Legolas understood and to which the elf had resigned himself several years ago. What Aragorn was about to do was outright snooping.

Aragorn shrugged his shoulders. You were a young Ranger then, and you are King of Gondor and Arnor now. Surely you'll not quail under his gtare this time, he told himself, lifting the lid to the chest slowly. Aragorn glimpsed inside and sighed, disappointed to find only a soft woolen blanket dyed a deep blue.

He knew he should close the lid and leave well enough alone, yet he also knew that a chest that size held more than just one blanket. Lifting it up, he found cushioned on top of another identical blanket a portfolio bound with a leather tie. A single green leaf was painted upon the paper bark covering. Aragorn picked it up as gently as he had picked Eldarion up from his crib for the first time, and removed the binding. Opening the portfolio, he discovered that it served as a keeper of Legolas' personal correspondences. On top was the most recent letter he had sent to the prince, and beneath that he saw the flowery script of Arwen, written on the same pale gold parchment, the wax seal bearing the likeness of the White Tree of Gondor carefully broken. Aragorn thumbed through the pages. There were more from Arwen and him, and just as many if not more from Gimli, his writing sharp and jagged. Others there were from the Shire and Eryn Lasgalen, as well as a scant few from Imladris and Edoras. He's kept every one of them.

Aragorn resisted the urge to read the correspondences, save the ones he and Arwen had sent, as that would have been a total invasion of privacy. Smoothing out the top parchment, he made to replace them in the portfolio when something caught his eye. He shuffled through the letters again, his brow furrowing more deeply as he went along. There's one, and there's another. Aragorn had gotten only a quarter of the way through the stack and already had counted several of the silvery grey parchments that bore half a broken seal of a graceful curve. He scrutinized the partial emblem, the deep blue color of the wax seeming to stop his blood cold. He recognized the seal, and the wax, and he found it disconcertingly odd that Legolas should received so many correspondences from Dol Amroth, from Prince Imrahil, Lord of the Swan Knights.

Aragorn carefully laid the first few parchments upon the bed, leaving the most recent correspondence from Imrahil exposed on top of the stack. His eyes traveled slowly over the noble script, his heart beating faster and faster as he skimmed through the words—sea, ship, sail....

"Great Valar, Legolas," Aragorn breathed.

"I doubt that even your status as King of the Reunified Lands gives you right to deem me such a being, worthy of it though I may be."

Aragorn rose hurriedly to his feet, grabbing the other parchments from upon the bed and placing them on top of the stack, trying his best to at least fumble gracefully. Legolas crossed from the door to where he stood in a manner of mere seconds and, saying not a word, snatched the papers from Aragorn's hands, returning them quickly yet reverently to the portfolio and then replacing it within the chest in similar manner.

It was clear to Aragorn that Legolas was incensed, though nothing settled itself upon the elf's countenance to give indication of it. Annoyance, anger, amusement, anger again—all seemed to flit across the elf's features in a stream of endless explosions, all precisely contained and controlled.

"Legolas, I beg your forgiveness," Aragorn said, feeling as if he were being consumed by the fires of Mount Doom while at the same time being buried under an avalanche upon Caradhras.

Legolas closed the chest with a loud thud and straightened, towering over Aragorn, even though the man had at least an inch on the elf.

"It is good to see you again, Aragorn," Legolas greeted him, his voice frigid, his gaze aflame. "Come, let us sup," he said, and then started to walk toward the door. He stopped abruptly and strode over to the hearth, tapping the pipe Aragorn had disturbed earlier into its prior position.

Elf and man walked in silence as they made their way down to the forest floor and to the private dining hall. Aragorn struggled to walk beside Legolas, whose strides were long and determined. As they drew closer to the small building, the smell of dinner wafted to him on the air.

"Will others be joining us?" Aragorn asked, gaining the courage to break the weighty silence and hoping he would not be left alone with the enraged elf just yet.

"Many of my people are still out tending the fields. The village is quiet this time of year. Worry not. I have asked Mordil and Daewen to see to the needs of your men. They will be well taken care of and will eat elsewhere," Legolas assured him, though coldly.

"I don't worry," Aragorn replied. "Daewen is very capable, very intelligent."

"Aye, normally she is."

"Legolas, do not blame Daewen for my transgression."

Aragorn barely heard the grunt that came from Legolas in response.

"I take full respons– "

"Celebhil," Legolas interrupted straightforwardly, "upon alerting me to your presence, also alerted me to his overwhelming desire to patrol the western wood, and so he also will not be joining us." The prince stopped his steps and opened the door to the dining hall, indicating with an arm for Aragorn to enter first. "Talathion—, " he stopped and shook his head curtly. "It will just be you and I tonight," he said.

For the briefest moment, Aragorn believed he glimpsed a snarl turning itself up on Legolas' lips as he passed by. Yet in the same moment, there was a sparkle set deep in his blue eyes, as if the elf was taking great pleasure from the king's discomfiture. It took all of Aragorn's effort not to cringe as he walked past the elf and into the room.

Though the dinner that awaited the prince and king was not nearly as extravagant as other elven feasts he had attended in recent years, Aragorn was still impressed with the offerings, especially as his presence had been unexpected and the village was indeed very quiet as Legolas had pointed out. Venison steak, apples baked in cinnamon compote, crusted bread, and a few other dishes all looked and smelled extremely delicious, though Aragorn found he really had no appetite despite the fact that he had not eaten since breakfast that morn. However, the king was rather anxious to have at the carafe of wine that stood in the center of the table.

"Your father's Dorwinion?" Aragorn asked, incredulous, picking up the carafe and sniffing the contents.

"Only the best for King Elessar," Legolas confirmed. His voice held neither cheer nor contempt.

"Lego—"

"Sit," the prince bade, pulling out a chair at the head of the small table.

It never occurred to Aragorn to do anything but obey.

"And eat," Legolas continued, gesturing to the table grandly. He picked up the carafe of wine and filled each of their cups, then took his place across from Aragorn. He sat regally, though rigidly.

Aragorn smiled his thanks and nodded, then took a generous helping of each of the dishes. The impending silence would be easier to endure and not so awkward if he kept his mouth full of food.

Legolas' eyes followed Aragorn's movements as he filled his plate, and then the prince helped himself to a piece of crusted bread, a slice of the roasted venison, and a serving of the apples. Aragorn concentrated greatly on transferring each bite from plate to mouth, chewing the appropriate number of times before swallowing, giving added attention to make sure the food went down the right pipe. Of course, once the food got to his stomach, there was no guarantee it would stay down, so uneasy was he. Only once before had he ever felt this way—when Elrond had spoken to him of his intentions toward Arwen. He had experienced his dinner all over again that night, though it was far from pleasant the second time around. Aragorn was certain he would be having a similar experience this night.

Aragorn swallowed and took another bite of venison, then stole a glance at Legolas.

Great Valar, he is livid!

Legolas had yet to take one bite of his food, but his meat was entirely cut into very precise, very small pieces, and the prince was working on cutting them even smaller. Aragorn knew not whether to be awed by the knifework or frightened, and he fought hard not to grimace at each scraping sound of knife against plate. Eventually Legolas no longer could cut his meat any smaller, so he moved on to his bread, tearing it in half, and then in half again. When the bread was sufficiently mutilated, he picked up his fork and started mashing the apples. All this the elf did very grandly and without taking his eyes off Aragorn.

"May I help you?" Legolas demanded finally.

Aragorn swallowed hard. "No, it's just that you've not eaten a thing," he stated, then gulped down the rest of his wine when Legolas hardened his gaze even more. Aragorn poured himself another cup of wine. He was already on his fourth; Legolas had yet to take a sip of his first.

"And you were chewing on the same piece of meat for the past five minutes," the prince observed. Setting his napkin beside his plate, Legolas pushed his chair away from the table and stood in one rigid motion. "I find I have little appetite."

Little appetite for food, you mean, Aragorn clarified silently.

Legolas walked out of the small hall, and Aragorn debated whether he should follow or let the elf be. Any attempt to talk to him at this point would fail horribly. Legolas was naturally reserved, choosing to listen carefully to the assessments of others first and offer his views only once he had garnered all the information he deemed necessary, but when the elf's anger flared, he shut down completely. No words would he hear, nor would he give any. One was left to only guess what exactly his thoughts were. That is, unless the elf was entirely enraged. Then he would let fly every thought that came to mind, without censure. Elladan and Elrohir termed it "Thranduil mode." Over the years, Aragorn had made it a practice to retreat without dishonor whenever Legolas entered into such a volatile state.

But you are the one who ignited the fire, and it is only right that you should be the one to try and put it out.

Heaving a sigh, Aragorn pushed his chair back from the table and rose to follow Legolas.

Once outside, Aragorn found no sign of the elf. He felt his hesitance to face his friend dissipate a little, for Legolas' quick disappearance gave evidence that the prince was just slightly angry and wanted to be left alone. He had not entered "Thranduil mode"...yet.

Aragorn glanced up into the trees, knowing that it was a futile quest in which he was engaging. If an elf did not want to be found, he would certainly not be found, no matter if the searcher was another elf or a former Ranger who had been taught by elves. Regardless, Aragorn felt it necessary to at least make the attempt. His eyes raked through the trees, watching for a flicker of movement upon their boughs, searching for an odd twist upon a branch, but Legolas was nowhere to be seen.

The evening sky was darkening and the waning moon afforded him only a little light by which to search. Aragorn soon found himself walking back towards the aged oak in which Legolas had made his dwelling. It went against his better judgment, as that would be the last place Legolas would seek escape. Yet Aragorn thought briefly that perhaps he may have returned to his chambers, knowing that would be the last place the former Ranger would come looking for him. Besides, the king's own guest chambers were located near to the prince's, and Aragorn felt wearier as night fell. The urge to talk to Legolas and apologize for his wrongdoing was quickly being replaced by an urge to lay his head upon a soft pillow and escape the worries and fears of the past two days. He knew that no such escape would come this night and that he would be lucky to get even a couple hours sleep. He knew his mind would be restless, reliving all he had seen and done this day, racking itself for the words he would say to Legolas in apology for all that had passed and for when it came time to bid a final farewell to his friend.

Aragorn stopped his steps abruptly, surprised. Upon the balcony of his dwelling, both hands resting upon the balustrade and gazing up towards the first stars glimmering in the pale night sky, stood Legolas. His eyes were closed, his intent of listening to a song muted to Man's ears written on his serene face.

Aragorn was loath to interrupt, to stir Legolas from the peaceful state, even though he still desired greatly to speak with his friend. He was not an elf and thus he would never comprehend the sea-longing, but Aragorn was aware...Aragorn knew Legolas was seldom able to converse with the trees so deeply since its stirring. He would not take this moment from Legolas. He would not tear the elf away for an unpleasant conversation. He would wait for the new day to say his own farewell to Legolas.

*****


A/N:

*egoloth – this flower is a creation of mine for yet another one-chapter story I am working on. The story is currently stalled, but I do mean to come back to it, and mentioning it here will hopefully give me the added push to do so. I won't translate the meaning of egoloth here, but I'm sure you can figure it out if you consult any of the Sindarin dictionaries out there.



Speaking of other stories, I wrote a one-chapter ficlet, movie-verse, that explores Lego's hissy fit from TTT. (Wasn't that a nice segue into a shameless plug?) It can be found here: http://www.fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=1217253. If you haven't checked it out already, please do.



And now for the moment YellowSun has been waiting for—

Response to Reviewers


TreeHugger – Sorry I didn't include the warder in this chapter, mellon-nin. I know you wanted to see him again, but he is not yet recovered from your date the other week. What did you do to him? It had to be more than just dinner. LOL. Legolas knows how to play his game well. As you can see, Celebhil still doesn't know what to believe. :) Sorry about the angst I inserted about Legolas' mother and sister; however, it will get worse. But I do find I need some lighter moments, and that's what Mordil is all about. Teehee. I love my young elves. Yes, elves are strange and mysterious creatures, and just when you think you have them figured out, you find you really don't. I love that about them. Aragorn has found Legolas, but I don't think that's helped his state of mind any bit. Hehe. I love torturing Aragorn—Poor Aragorn! (c. PP)

Stimpy – Sorry, I'm a really slow updater. I try, but it just takes time. I'm glad you're reading along anyway at my slow pace. And about Celebhil—hmmmm, we'll see.

VladimirsAngel – It seems only natural that Legolas plays Thranduil when he finds himself with the need to exert his lordliness. Such is not in his nature so he must imitate his Ada. LOL at the comment about Haldir needing a whole new forest. I do so love him, but he is arrogant. ROTFL – I constantly find myself typing Legolas-speak, and not on purpose either. Make sure you keep those cruise brochures away from your Legolas. And just to be safe, keep those credit cards hidden as well. You might find a charge from Carnival Cruises on your next monthly statement. I would always let Legolas have his way if it were truly Legolas. Alas, it's not Legolas but his evil twin Legoals, who is the muse on this story. Of course, you might reconsider once you see what Elladan and Elrohir are inspiring. I hope you'll find out soon, if you're interested.

opaque – LOL I have had those last night reading frenzies once or twice in my fan fiction lifetime as well. Okay, maybe more like hundreds of times. I'm honored that it was my story that keep you up late. Oops. I see my author's bio is a bit confusing. I'm really 24, not 15. I just feel like 15 sometimes because I've got this puppy love fascination with Legolas. ::blushes:: Thanks for the review!

Melian – Legolas squirming. MMMmmm...that's a bit yummy. Legolas squirming because of Celebhil—even yummier. But that's another story. You've totally hit the nail on the head—we girls do love the mysterious types. I think that's why there are so many of us out there writing fan fiction about our favorite elf. I'm glad you like Daewen, especially as we will be seeing just a tab bit more of her. ::snicker:: I do enjoy writing the elves; it's quite a challenge. They've got this great mystique about them, and balance mirth and staidness all in the same moment. I love that about them, the younger elves especially. The older ones, like Talathion, have lost their fun side. :( No, you did not miss it in the beta. I decided to go for a bit more angst. There is a story to it. You will hear it as soon as this one is done. Well, we've gotten just half of Legolas' reaction to Aragorn's journey. The other half will most likely be in the next chapter. Legolas still won't be finished—you're right. Talathion's got his coming too.

Earl Grey – Eep. This story has been going on for quite a few months, hasn't it? And I think we're only halfway there. I so wish I could get this out faster! I've had most of it planned out since the beginning and the ending has been sitting in my head for a couple of months. Alas, RL. ::sigh:: I'm glad you like the detail—sometimes I think I might bog you down in it, but I can see each scene perfectly in my head and I really want to convey those images to the readers. Alas, if I were a movie director and New Line Cinema would fund me and Orli and Viggo and a cast of other actors and actresses to make this a movie instead, you would get it all at once, complete with fish scene. Hey, I can dream. I'll let you know where and when you can find the other story, whenever it gets finished. ::PP yells at Elladan and Elrohir to pay her a little attention:: Thanks for reading and reviewing!

bryn – How exciting to see you checking this story out! Your review hit on a few things that others haven't, specifically the woman. There is a reason that her sections are written very simplistically, but it is not due to any trauma she has experienced. Keep thinking about her. I'm getting ready to reveal more about who she is, but it's still a couple of chapters away. LOL I'll tell Talathion to look for the leash next time he's in Minas Tirith. MMMmmm, Legolas on a leash....Oh, sorry! Got lost in a vision. I totally agree that Romance and Angst are hard genres to write in, since I really want to keep the characters true to themselves. But it is how I love my romances, with plenty of angst, so I will continue to plod ahead and do my best. Thanks for the great review!

Teanna – And you're checking this out too! I'm so honored that more and more of my favorite authors are reading this little story of mine. LOL – Elves in baseball hats and pickup trucks. That is a good image. I do love Legolas in a doorag. Heh – I don't know much about horses at all. al can tell you that story. I just try to find stuff on the net. Good to hear you don't see a Mary Sue, though you might soon (Eep!). You're the first to have mentioned the hawk; you'll see more of it. Interesting about the meaning of a dropped feather. And LOL about the fish. Fortunately for Legolas, I'm—I mean—IT was a rather small fish. :) Thanks for all the reviews and helpful comments!

Nebride – Yay! You're back! You've joined the rest of the crew here that enjoys Celebhil and his antics. I like him too. He's fun to write, but I do have to tame him sometimes. Sorry I haven't revealed much more about the woman. I'm getting there though—just a few more chapters. Heehee – Legolas in the stream is my favorite scene so far. Totally written on a whim, but I love it. So did Legolas, I think. :) Thanks for reviewing!

Ithilien – For me, I envision Legolas walking on an edge, very unstable when the sea-longing is bad. That's why everyone is assuming the worst. They're beginning to find out their assumptions were wrong, one-by-one. Always bad to assume. I'm sure you know the saying. It didn't bother Legolas when it was only Celebhil, but he is definitely more than a little miffed that Celebhil's mistake went as far as to bring the King to Ithilien. Be prepared for fireworks courtesy of Legolas next chapter. I'm glad you like Daewen. There will probably be more of her, if all goes according to plan. One day, I'll give you the backstory for Legolas and Celebhil. Every day, more and more of it comes to me. And I'm still working on the other story. Elladan and Elrohir are two busy entertaining themselves and not me. Eventually, you get to read it and I'm certain you'll enjoy it.

YellowSun – Nasty emails? They weren't that nasty, were they? I know how you can rid yourself of them – sign-in when you review and then click the author alert box. :P They fire some of the time. LOL – I put those in on purpose. I like it. You don't? Well, fine. One Avalanche of Advil coming your way. ::PP resists urge to point out the alliteration of WW::

al and Legolas – Between mentions of leashes and ropes, I'm having great visions. LOL – no, I don't think a shoe string will do, not for what I have in mind anyway. Heehee – I think Mordil enjoyed Aragorn's move too, after the fact. Celebhil does get around—he's been to Eryn Lasgalen and Ithilien of course, and to Rivendell and Minas Tirith, and probably Esgaroth a couple of times...Oh. You meant a different kind of getting around. Well, maybe. She does like to hang with the boys. Dangit! ::PP scoops another plot bunny and puts it in a cage for later:: LOL – it's not cruel. It's great fun to imagine the twins and Legolas ganging up on the smelly man. Hey Marty—erm, I mean—Legolas! I'm trying to figure out how you'll get your bow back. I think I've got it figured out. You'll have to wait at least another chapter though. Can you make do without it until then? Patience, melethron. Somebody will eventually kiss you. Actually, Celebhil gave you a nice sweet peck on the cheek. Was that good? LOL. He wanted to do more, but I slapped him on the—ANYway, you'll get kissed, and more. Just wait. Until then, *POP*