Disclaimer: All characters and places belong to or inspired by Tolkien.
Much gratitude goes to al for beta'ing, both this chapter and the last. Thanks for putting up with my ever-changing mind, nin mellon! ::hugs::
Forgive the long time between postings. Legoals is most unelven; he took off for warmer weather when the bitter cold really set in here. Damn elf didn't even bring me back a souvenir from Jamaica as an apology. Anyway, on with the long overdue chapter. Hope it doesn't disappoint.
El Gwedh Enni
(A) Star is Binding Me
Chapter X – Revelations
It was morning. Pale sky was washed in warm blue, tinted only by the soft yellow light of the morning star, distant and yet half-hidden in the eastern horizon. Birdsong lifted on the air from tree bough, the warbling melodies continually greeting the dawning day. The grass was soft and cool, as morning dew clung to blades of healthy green that glistened in the warmth of the sunlight. Multihued flowers raised vibrant heads and verdant arms in preparation to catch life-giving sunbeams, their invigorating scents infused with the fresh spring air to impart a sense of lazy peace.
Indeed, it was a glorious morning, one that whispered promises that a glorious day was to come—perfect for sitting upon a riverbank and being spectator to the slow progression of the sun in the clear sky, and allowing the harmonious song of trees and birds and murmuring stream to caress one's ears until one fell into a languid state.
The glory of the morning, however, only served to sour his mood even more. Everything about it seemed to mock him—the promised brightness of a rising sun, the persistent cheer of babbling brook, the inspirited ovation of daisies dancing in the breeze.
Those two bickering birds, he muttered inwardly, glowering at the creatures, willing them to cease their unendless and annoying prater in whatever way was quickest, even if that way involved the swift means of death by spontaneous combustion due to being the unfortunate recipient of an elven glare.
The two birds—mockingbirds coincidently enough, which only added to his being convinced that the Valar were on a mission to irritate him to the fullest degree this morning—quickly took flight when their own annoyance with the dour elf grew to be too much. He wished he could do the same, wished he could escape like that. Their movements were quick and effortless, and they lifted lightly from branch onto breeze.
Indeed he envied them, for he felt heavy and weighted down like a lumbering dwarf in bulky chainmail. Stuck like a fly in honey. All his senses, all his perceptions, seemed dulled and delayed, and he felt as if any action he might make would come much too late and be far too little to delay this departure and stop this progression of events.
He felt trapped, trapped inside a tenebrous tunnel of emotions—anger, regret, pain, and sorrow, and worst of all, for he knew not from where it stemmed, desperation.
~~~
Ceasing his slow ministrations with a currycomb upon the barrel of his horse, Legolas rested one arm upon the proud steed's back and laid his head down upon it with a heavy sigh.
"We understand each other, my friend."
The whispered words were barely audible to his ears, but Aragorn still heard the slight note of plea in his voice. It was almost as if he were looking for confirmation, or needing confirmation. Regret once again tugged hard upon his heart. Friends such as they were not supposed to lead each down troubled roads. Friends such as they were not supposed to tread on each other's trust. Friends such as they.... A wince, and the thought was cast away upon the morning breeze.
"Legolas?"
Arod shifted his weight uneasily and Legolas stirred, reposturing himself and returning quickly to his task. Aragorn stepped out of the shadows of the stable entry and into the brightness of the sunlight streaming down into the small pasture. A long and uncomfortable silence loomed as he walked over to Legolas. Making his steps as slow as he could without his delay becoming too conspicuous, he racked his brain in search of the right words, frustrated to the point that he wanted to shout out words incomprehensible to even him.
All throughout the night he had tossed and turned, mulling over what he might say to Legolas, how he would apologize, how he would bid farewell. The words had come then—fast and plentiful—and everything that had presented itself seemed the perfect thing to say—straightforward, to the point, heartfelt, and honest. He had formed his apology and shaped his farewell with all the appropriate words; they had been neither excessively flowery nor coldly dispassionate. During the ubiquitous silence of the night he had practiced over and over within his torrent-filled mind how he would deliver those words, focusing on relaying the root sentiment behind them and conveying how much the friendship they had shared over the years really meant to him, and expressing his true hope that Legolas would find contentment across the Sea.
Yet all words escaped him now, in this moment when he needed them most, fleeing from him as a deer would flee from a greedy band of careless hunters. Any phrase of careful greeting or humble apology that came to him now was fleeting like a fluff of tree cotton floating on the air just beyond the grasp of a young child, and they fell far short of expressing his deep sorrow and guilt. Balling his hands into tight fists at his sides, Aragorn silently cursed himself that he should have lost so much sleep last night and now had nothing to show for it this morning.
"Aragorn," Legolas said, nodding brusquely to him in acknowledgement of his presence. The elf wore a mask of stolidity, but it was poorly crafted, as it did nothing to hide the remnants of personal hurt. "Was your lodging unsatisfactory, the bed uncomfortable? You look terrible." Elven eyes remained fixed on his horse.
Aragorn allowed a tense chuckle to escape. "I suppose I'll always look terrible standing next to your fairness, Elf."
No response came to his nervous remark—no twitching of the corners of the mouth, no gleam in the eyes, no quirk of an eyebrow. Nothing.
"Nay, I slept not well last night, Legolas, but it is not the bed to blame. The accommodations were beyond satisfactory. Perfectly pleasant as elvish accommodations always are." Aragorn sucked in a deep breath. "I would say sleep has eluded you of late as well, friend," he ventured in almost a whisper. He paused to consider his course. A strong desire pulled within him to avoid discussing the real reasons for their lack of sleep, but deep down he knew that he could not put it off forever, that he would eventually have to make amends for his actions of yesterday, and the sooner, the better. "I suspect we both know why we do not sleep well."
"I am of the Eldar, Aragorn. I need not this beauty sleep that Men so obviously require." The words were said with no hint of mirth lilting on the crisp voice, no ripples breaking upon the surface of the dark blue, almost black, pools.
"Nay, it would do little good," Aragorn jested in another effort to ease the tension between the two of them. Again, he met with failure. The elf does not want to talk about it. Leave it be. But the King in him, the Ranger in him, the human child raised in the noble house of Elrond in him could not—would not—let it be. It was not how he was brought up.
Ever during his childhood his twin brothers had delighted in leading him astray, and more often than not Aragorn found himself in trouble. He had learned that it was far better to face the consequences of his actions rather than ignore them or run from them, allowing them to amass and become more terrible than they would have been had he admitted whatever wrongdoing he had committed that week in the first place. Elrond was much less stern and much more understanding when it was the perpetrator who informed him of ill happenings within his household rather than the Lord of Imladris stumbling upon the evidence of such himself, or being informed of it by the lords Glorfindel or Erestor.
"Legolas, we cannot let what happened yesterday lie dormant. I would not see you depart—"
"Aragorn—"
Aragorn held up a hand, the practiced motion of a king beseeching his royal subjects to remain silent. "Please, Legolas. I cannot let you leave without an apology. My actions of yesterday were inane and senseless. I know not what came over me."
"Nor do I," Legolas said. His voice was frosted with the biting chill of a dead winter's day.
Aragorn shook his head, his transgression replaying all over again in his head. Had he been thinking properly—nay, thinking at all—he would have known Legolas had not yet departed. The clues had all been there. Nothing of true meaning, besides his bow, had been missing from his chambers, and that meant nothing as Legolas seldom went anywhere without the gift of Galadriel or his silver-hafted knife. "I wasn't thinking, my friend," Aragorn confessed. "I should have realized you had not left. It is clear to me now that you would not have without taking with you the gifts and mementos you have garnered over the years that you so obviously hold dear. Truly I am sorry, Legolas, for my intrusion. It was wrong and dishonorable of me."
Ice broke then, and the fires of Mount Doom erupted.
"And still you do not think, Aragorn!" Legolas seemed to roar and hiss at the same time. His face contorted in rage. "Do you not think I hold friendships dearer than the mere trinkets that represent them?! Do you not think that I will bid farewell to those friends when the time does come for me to sail the Sea?! Do you think I would be so cold and so heartless?! Do you think me so weak as to succumb so easily?"
Aragorn stared wide-eyed and speechless at the elf. Never had he heard so many furied words fly out of Legolas' mouth at once. He was beyond "Thranduil Mode," and Aragorn wondered momentarily if this was perhaps the fabled "Oropherian Mode." Regardless, the words struck Aragorn's heart, their sharpness and pointed truth wounding him, and he realized with a great sinking feeling that he had wronged his friend in a way far graver—far, far worse—than just a simple invasion of the elf's privacy.
"Legolas—"
"Leave it, Aragorn," Legolas cut him short, turning briskly to walk away.
"Nay, Legolas," Aragorn said, grabbing his arm. The Sindar prince whipped around, first staring hard at Aragorn's hand, then fixing the king with a most elven glare that brought with it the command 'release me or else,' but Aragorn refused to obey. "Nay, Legolas," he repeated, determination steeling his voice. "Not until we settle this matter."
Aragorn had thought it not to be possible, but the weight and fire of Legolas' glare increased tenfold. "And what is this matter, Aragorn? Truly, do you know?" he demanded, his voice taking on an almost mocking tone.
"Legolas...." Aragorn hesitated. His own voice was harsh, and he regretted the aggravation stirring within him that Legolas' tone had managed to incite. He started again, softening his speech. "Legolas, I am aware now that it is not so much anger that fuels your words, but hurt. I should not have doubted you."
For a long moment, Legolas made no reply. Instead he returned his attention to Arod, stroking his muzzle with a slender hand, his eyes gazing deeply into the horse's eyes. If not for the pervading tension, Aragorn would have considered it a most serene moment.
"And yet you were not alone in your doubt," he whispered. The statement was made as almost an admission of something, but of what Aragorn knew not.
"Legolas?"
The elf shook his head, then spoke brief and imperceptible words to Arod who trotted reluctantly off across the pasture to join Roheryn where she grazed idly.
"Legolas," Aragorn tried again, his tone passably commanding the elf to share.
"Nay," Legolas said, shaking his head once more, though not with the forlornness with which he had done so before, but rather more stubbornly, more resolutely. The son of Thranduil would not discuss the matter.
Aragorn ignored him.
"Please, Legolas," he coaxed, gently squeezing the elf's arm. "Please."
Legolas dropped his gaze to the ground and his eyes closed as he inhaled a slow, deep breath, as if he were preparing himself to make a confession. Silence stretched out between them, long like a midsummer's day. Then slowly his head rose, and his eyes opened, heavy with unspent tears.
"You were not alone in your doubt," he said again, his voice soft and strained, a hint of a waver.
"I do not understand—"
"You were not alone in your doubt. Celebhil, Daewen, even Talathion.... You were not alone in your doubt." His head bowed and shook again as he repeated the phrase for the fourth time; the forlornness had returned.
"Legolas, you—"
His head came up, and his eyes stared hard into Aragorn's. "I know what you will say, Aragorn. You would tell me I am not at fault, that I am mistaken, but I am not and I am to blame." His tone would brook no argument.
"Legolas—"
"Nay, Aragorn. I am." Legolas had firm control of their conversation now, and it was clear from his voice and his gaze that he was not soon relinquishing it. "Had it stopped at Celebhil I would have found it amusing, for ever is he mucking things up, but for you, and Daewen, and Talathion.... And I wonder now if Gimli would have come barreling upon horse, had word reached him." A pause; a slight shake of the head. "Nay, for all of you to think me leaving—to think me to slink away, wordless and wistful—it speaks of me, of my mood, of the way that I must have been treating you over the years. You expected this of me."
"Nay, Legolas," Aragorn said matter-of-factly, finally given the chance to speak. "Gimli would not have come." Legolas' eyes narrowed at his statement. "Gimli has more sense than that. Gimli does not doubt true friendship."
The words were authentic and honest, and were meant to soothe. The softening of the lines upon Legolas' face gave evidence that they had accomplished their purpose, but only to a degree.
"Besides, I think not that seeing you off would be enough to get that dwarf on a horse again, not after what happened last time from what I have heard," Aragorn jested delicately.
A faint smile turned itself upon the corners of Legolas' lips, the sight of which warmed Aragorn's heart.
"I warned him not to use his heels, and had he seated himself properly he would not have bruised so badly," Legolas replied, an allusion of mirth surfacing upon the ocean-hued pools of his eyes, but still they had yet to return to their more brilliant shade of blue.
"Never will he learn, for he is as stubborn as you," Aragorn said, feeling a tinge of relief that he and Legolas seemed to be on their way to closing the rift between them. Still, the heart of the matter went unresolved and Aragorn felt the need to make further amends pressing down on him, for Legolas' sake as well as his own. He would not let his friend hold the guilt of the previous days' events, though he knew the elf would put up a valiant fight to retain it. The Lord of Edhilbar had as many issues with responsibility as the King of Gondor and Arnor.
"Legolas." Aragorn lingered over his name and his tone disclosed that he was returning to a more serious matter.
Legolas flinched and looked away, crossing his arms, a clear indication that the son of Thranduil would hear no more.
"Legolas, I know you wish to abandon the matter and I will let it rest, but I want you to hear this first. To understand—nay, to really know this."
Despite the authority ringing clear in his voice, Legolas would still not meet Aragorn's eyes.
"Legolas, look at me when I say this, for I would have you see the genuineness of my words."
The elf turned his head to look upon the king, but still there was aloofness in his gaze and in his stance.
Aragorn took what he could get. "Though I can only speak for myself, I am certain you would find Celebhil and Daewen and even Talathion to be in agreement with this assessment." He paused, wanting to give more weight to his next words. "Our judgment of your intent was clouded, Legolas. It had nothing to do with you, with how you have shared yourself—your friendship—over these past years. For myself, I can say judgment was clouded by regret, and selfish wishes. I cannot deny that deep down I want you to stay, my friend." Legolas made to reply, but Aragorn quelled him with a raised hand and a shake of his head. "But I know you cannot. I know the Sea calls constantly to you. Still, I cannot deny my hope that you would remain yet a little longer, until Edhilbar was more firmly established, until the land of Ithilien grew green with content, until my time on this earth has passed." The last words were whispered—barely a breeze on the air—and immediately Aragorn regretted giving breath to them; but it was too late, for elven ears had heard them and had heard them clearly.
A look of divine glory seemed at first to settle itself in Legolas' eyes and upon his face, but quickly it flickered away and was replaced by an amused light gleaming within the sparkling blue orbs and a smile playing along his lips.
"Aragorn, I do not leave yet," he told him, his voice unwavering.
"Legolas, I do not ask you to stay. I know—"
"Aragorn," he interrupted, bringing both hands up to grasp the sides of Aragorn's shoulders firmly. It was an odd sort of feeling for Aragorn and it quite literally threw him off balance, for rarely did Legolas initiate such contact. "I do not leave yet."
It was Aragorn's turn to protest, but Legolas quashed all his attempts with his indomitable gaze.
"I stay not for you, Aragorn, nor for Gimli. I stay not for anyone but myself, and for myself I would stay for the length of your days. I know not if I will be able, but if it is in me then I will."
So touched was he by the words, and still not understanding entirely why Legolas had said that he was not leaving yet, that Aragorn stood speechless for several long moments. Overwhelming pride in his friend welled up inside him, yet at the same time he found himself more than a little confused by Legolas' revelation. Here the elf had said he would try to hold off answering the Call of the Sea and yet Aragorn had come to Edhilbar with the purpose of bidding farewell to his friend whom he had been told would be departing. And did not the letters from Imrahil allude to his leaving soon? He wondered if this was the elvish flare for contradicting oneself and yet not really contradicting oneself that was rearing its ugly head. He wondered if this were some elaborate hoax that the elf had generated, but the vividness of Legolas' anger and hurt from only a few moments ago quickly convinced him it was not. Finally, when he felt his brow could knit no further together, and this he believed the elf did deliberately wait for, Legolas bestowed upon him an explanation.
"'Twas Celebhil's doing, though not on purpose, and I suppose I am not entirely guiltless in the matter, for it was my words which were vague that led him astray," Legolas elucidated. "I have made no decision to leave, Aragorn. I am sorry that you came here expecting otherwise."
"Nay, Legolas," Aragorn objected, though unable to restrain a low chuckle brought about by the irony of the elf's apology. Had the apology been made entirely in jest, Aragorn would have played along, as he was accustomed to the notoriously flitting moods of elves. However, Legolas had been completely sincere and Aragorn suspected he felt some guilt for inconveniencing his friend, though no such inconvenience existed. "I am more than relieved to find that you do not depart. You need not apologize. It is I who should apologize."
"You have already, Aragorn, and I accept your apology. Now I would have us forget about all this so that we may move on with the day and enjoy each other's company, for soon will you not need to return to your city? Your people expect their king to be present for the celebration of the New Year, do they not?" Legolas asked, leading the way back towards the stable.
"They do, but Faramir is there and he and Arwen oversee the preparations," Aragorn replied. "I will not have to return until the day after next."
"That is good," was all Legolas said.
Returning to the stable, Legolas began to tidy Arod's stall aided in part by Aragorn. Silence again fell between them, but this time it was comfortable silence, the kind in which only good friends on good terms could share. Indeed, Aragorn treasured moments such as these, for it was at such times that he felt closest to Legolas. Words needed not be spoken because it seemed they knew what the other would say. Legolas, he was certain, would comment on the beauty of the day, despite the fact that he was currently holding a shovel-full of manure, or on the merry melody being sung by a pair of birds, perhaps even joining his voice to the song. Aragorn, on the other hand, would have commented on how impressed he was with the elven colony and then inquired further about how their work progressed in Ithilien. Legolas no doubt was already aware of Aragorn's gratitude to the elves so there was no need to voice his appreciation; and in answer to his question about their task of restoring Ithilien, the elf would most likely only say, "It progresses well," and the king would be forced into playing a game of "Quest for Answers" in order to get the information he wanted. It was not that Legolas would want not to share with Aragorn the progress of his people's work; in reality, Aragorn knew Legolas to be quite proud of all that they had accomplished thus far. The youngest son of Thranduil simply took much pleasure in being difficult. It was a trait he had inherited from his father.
Thankfully he inherited not his father's proclivity for holding grudges, nor for cruel and unusual punishments when one does wrong by him, Aragorn thought, realizing all of a sudden how readily Legolas had forgiven him for invading his chambers and reading through some of his personal correspondences. Indeed, it seemed not to bother the elf at all, and Legolas appeared to have forgotten the incident had ever occurred. Had it been Thranduil's chambers in which he were snooping, Aragorn was certain the people of Minis Tirith would be seeing their king no time soon as he would surely be detained in one of the Woodland King's wine cellars and forced to listen to several renditions of "The Barrel Song" over and over. Either that, or the Good and Wise King* might possibly find it within him to release me, were he in a particularly sporting mood, though no doubt I would be missing a few digits, Aragorn gulped mentally.
Just then, Aragorn noticed Legolas had finished his tidying, apparently satisfied with their work, and was gifting him with an odd sort of look. The elf chimed a laugh that was long and light.
"What?" Aragorn asked, oblivious to what had sparked the elf's amusement.
"You looked both positively horrified and overwhelmingly relieved for a brief moment there, Lord King," Legolas said, his voice lilting still with his merriment. "I've never seen you look so."
"Oh," Aragorn replied, unaware that he had allowed his musings to show on his face. "'Twas nothing," he said unconcerned, in an attempt to dodge.
"Ai," Legolas laughed. "You'll not get off that easily, Aragorn. I remember now that you've possessed that look once before, when first you visited my father's realm, bringing the creature Gollum along."
Aragorn remembered well how hesitant he had been to meet Thranduil and then ask of the king that his people keep Gollum, who at the time had been most wretched and vile.
"Nay, Aragorn, you dreaded it," Legolas said, grinning a grin that scraped against Aragon's nerves. Rangers dreaded nothing, or were supposed to anyway.
"You were thinking how lucky you are that I am not my father."
Aragorn failed in stifling a laugh at Legolas' observation. It was uncanny how well the elf could read him at times.
"Something like that, yes," Aragorn confirmed. He chose his words carefully, for he wished not to rehash their earlier words to each other, yet still he felt like he owed Legolas something more for invading the elf's privacy.
"You believe me to have been too lenient," Legolas said, and again Aragorn was amazed at the elf's seeming clairvoyance. "Thranduil would have strung you up by your heels for your trespass," he continued, being just vague enough, Aragorn noted, to ensure his banter did not stray into matters still tender. "I would emulate him, if you wish me to."
"Nay, Legolas, that is alright. Do not trouble yourself."
"You are certain?" he asked. Aragorn smiled and nodded his head, almost sketching a bow. Legolas harrumphed disappointedly. "I will save the string for Talathion then."
It came as a jest, though Aragorn could tell there was something more smoldering beneath it, for the mirth that had been dancing in Legolas' eyes halted suddenly and the blue orbs seemed to flash darkly. It was obvious Legolas was extremely angry with Talathion, and he had good reason to be. Aragorn feared for the warder, but in truth he felt deep sorrow and sympathy for Talathion more than anything else, for he had witnessed the pain and desperation the warder so clearly experienced because of Legolas' seeming departure. He regretted having stirred these emotions within the elf, and this dampened his mood considerably.
"Legolas, be not harsh or hasty when you speak with him about...about the misunderstanding that has occurred. He cares for you deeply. He acts only out of love for you."
"Talathion is my concern, Aragorn, not yours," Legolas said, highly affronted.
"Yes, Legolas, I am well aware," Aragorn said, placating yet wanting still to impart his worry for the warder. "I only ask that you try to understand him, and the reasons for his actions. It is clear he suffers still from the loss of his wife and son, and will be greatly pained by your departure, whenever that will be."
Eyes flashed again, a warning that a storm was beginning to brew. "Aragorn, abandon this," Legolas warned. "It is my concern, and I will deal with him as I see fit."
"Fine," Aragorn conceded, not wanting to go two rounds with the elf in one day. He didn't think he would survive. "How can I argue with you and win when you sound most positively like Thranduil?"
It was clear Legolas recognized Aragorn's attempt at humor as a tactic, but he grinned all the same and the storm seemed to blow itself out of his eyes.
"Yes, there is that," he said, crossing his arms in front of his chest. One imperial eyebrow arched up. "We've yet to decide upon the recompense for the earlier misdeeds of a certain Ranger with quite the penchant for snooping."
Aragorn knew the elf to be jesting, yet at the same time he was being quite serious. "I am sorry, Legolas, and I would make it up to you. You need only tell me how," he apologized again for good measure. No honey and spiders, no honey and spiders, Aragorn pleaded mentally.
"I would seek your aid, and then perhaps your counsel," Legolas said simply.
The request, for that was what it was, took Aragorn completely by surprise, and he shook his head to make sure he heard correctly.
"My aid?" he inquired.
"Yes, your aid in tracking, and based upon what we find, your counsel," Legolas explained. "You see, we found this woman...," the elf began.
"A woman?" Ai, Valar. What has he done now?
*****
*"The Good and Wise King" is TreeHugger's. Well, no; I should clarify that. Thranduil is not TreeHugger's. Thranduil belongs to nobody but himself. The aforementioned phrase is TreeHugger's. I hope you don't mind that I borrowed it again, nin mellon!
From PP: Heh. Shameless plug time again. Check out my bio on the profile page for it.
Response to Reviewers
Amber a.k.a. Stimpy – I like Legolas angry too. Quite the turn-on. He is indeed a whole person—er, elf—with complex emotions. He feels them all. And he ain't done yet. I'm glad you still love Celebhil. He's off patrolling the western woods for a while but he'll be back in this story. Thanks for reviewing!
TreeHugger – Celebhil and Legolas did have an interesting childhood; their story is ever on my mind and I will tell it one of these days, but I want to finish this one first. Who know it would grow to be this long? I certainly didn't. Originally I had thought it would be around 12 chapters. That ain't going to happen. I'm not even going to try and give an estimate on how many are left, even though I know where it's going. As you can probably see, the mystery lady will finally begin to come into this story more. I might keep you in the dark for a couple of more chapters, but you should eventually find out who she is and why she is here. Heh. Yup, Legolas is a neat freak, though I've heard not so when he gets into a lingerie drawer. I guess he gets a little too excited and forgets himself. Grrrrr, TreeHugger. You just keep wanting more and more one-chapter stories. Stop feeding my bunnies! I'm running out of cages! LOL – "Mad Elf." ::giggle:: I like that. Thanks for your review, Tree!
VladimirsAngel – LOL. You want a back-story too about Legolas' mementos. Hmmmm, maybe.... I had no plans to fill in those details, figuring the readers might have fun filling them in themselves, but we willl see. Of course Aragorn was bound to be caught. No fun would be had if he hadn't been. I'm glad to hear I pulled off Mad Elf (c. TreeHugger) well. Legolas is not done yet. There's Talathion still.... Thanks for the review! Hope your Legolas didn't put you too badly into debt. LOL Legolas has a bad speeding habits, doesn't he—cruises, theater candy....
Ana – A new face! Welcome, Welcome! I know you're confused; you're meant to be and I assure you that you are not alone. In fact, the confusion will become even greater I fear before this is through. It's how I like to write; I like to watch the readers flounder for answers while I sit there dropping very vague hints and say, "It will come. It will come. Be patient." ::grin:: Anyway, your first question was answered. Legolas is not leaving. It was all just a misinterpretation of words that got out of hand. Will he be leaving in the future? Yes. I'm not sure we're really any closer to finding out what's going on, but we are quickly getting there now. When I first conceived of this bunny, I didn't think any other character—canon or original—would really come into play in the story, but they have demanded attention and I like that it has evolved beyond just a story of Legolas and this woman and instead has become more about relationships and the struggle to maintain them in tough times. Thanks for reading and reviewing. I hope you continue to stick with me as I try to get you to the answers you are looking for.
al & Legolas – LOL You and your commas I'm smiling all over again as I read your review. I see your mind wandered there a couple of times throughout. That's okay though. My mind wanders there constantly. I might need some of your countermoves should I give into to Tree's persuasions and write up some of those stories. I'll let you know. Yes, Legolas is very much like his Ada and he is very much a neat-freak. LOL Legolas and I soooooo would get along great; I was the same way with my crayons and markers—black, brown, purple, blue, green, red, orange and then yellow. They had to go back in the box in that order. Don't even get me started on the box of 64 crayons! Hey melethron! Sorry you didn't like the kiss from Celebhil. He liked it! The woman will come, or will she? Or perhaps it will be Daewen? Or maybe it won't? Keep tapping those long fingers of yours. You'll get what's due to you, I promise.
Um, yeah, that was intentional. Yeah. [Note to self: Run grammar check on Reviewer Responses]
Melian – You and I must have a little math lesson, but it's makes me happy to hear that you enjoyed the humor of the last chapter. I enjoyed envisioning it all—"Thranduil Mode," the meat slicing. Our elf is very yummy when he's "Mad Elf" (c. TH). Nope, Legolas can't hear the trees as well as he used to sometimes. I've just always thought that about him, and I'm surprise more people don't. Galadriel's message makes it very clear that he'll no longer delight in the trees and I think that's partly due to the fact that the Call of the Sea is ever in his mind so he can't hear treesong as clearly anymore. Just my overactive imagination I guess. LOL I didn't mean for the trees being amused to turn into such a riddle for you, my dear. They were amused because they knew Aragorn was coming, and here Legolas and Celebhil were thinking the whole misunderstanding was settled. Trees have a wicked sense of humor, don't they? ::grin:: Ah, the women...Of all people, Melian, you should be most patient. I know I haven't told you all, but you know more than the others. Insert standard mantra here: "The answers will come. Be patient." LOL You are just as turned on by "Mad Elf" (c. TH) as I am it sounds. Hmmmmm, where'd that plot bunny go to? I'm glad you enjoyed the dinner and the dropped side-stories in the last chapter. I had quite the fun time coming up with those. I would be more than happy to inspire you for your own "Mad Elf" (c. TH) writing especially if that means seeing a new chapter coming from you. It's longer overdue than mine was. LOL Melian!!! No tongue from Celebhil! I have a hard time reining him in as it is; I can't have you egging him on. You'll get that story eventually, and Celebhil will get his tongue—er, I mean Legolas will get Celebhil's tongue. ::grin:: Thanks for your awesome review, nin mellon!!
reginabean – Another new face! Welcome to you as well! Good to have you here! Alas, I bet your snow is gone now, isn't it? Mine is, and we are having beautiful weather in Minnesota, and here I am inside sitting at the 'puter and not out enjoying it. Oh well. Yes, Legolas was really mad at Aragorn, but that anger has shifted and it is now himself he is mad at. Of course, that won't be so when Talathion comes back. Look out, Tal! No, he won't stay mad, though I think by the time this story is through, he'll wish his anger had stayed. It is a much easier emotion to deal with, I think. We'll see.... Thanks for reviewing!
Ithilien – It is sad that Legolas can't hear the trees as he once had. I think that why I love Legolas in sea-angst so much. Here, he should be content and happy, for Shadow has been destroyed and he's made great friends, yet he is longing for something else, something that will take him away from those friends. I love that sense of yearning, and it makes our elf very laudable that he should be able to deny the Call for so long because of his friendships with Aragorn and Gimli. ::sigh:: What a loyal husband he would make. ::grin:: Yes, Aragorn should have known better than to snoop; he knows that now. He should have known that Legolas will not have leave without saying goodbye to his friends first. Or will he? LOL. "Sexual intent for our elf." LOL You must have her confused with me. ::grin:: I'm sorry my updates are slow. It takes awhile for the muse to recuperate, or to come back from his vacations. I'm hoping now that the weather is nicer, Legoals will stick around more and won't abandon me again. Thank for the great review, as always!
taoist elf - Thanks for your reviews on chapter 1 and 2. I hope you can catch up soon. And I hope I can catch up quickly with you as well. Heehee, Legolas definitely is a dirty fighter, at least when it comes to Talathion. And yes, the elf did ask for the cut on his cheek. Bad karma indeed! I'm glad you love my Legolas! I love him too!
Well, that's it for now. Don't know when the next update will come; hopefully, it won't be as long, but then again you know me, and my bratty muse.
Happy Spring all!
Much gratitude goes to al for beta'ing, both this chapter and the last. Thanks for putting up with my ever-changing mind, nin mellon! ::hugs::
Forgive the long time between postings. Legoals is most unelven; he took off for warmer weather when the bitter cold really set in here. Damn elf didn't even bring me back a souvenir from Jamaica as an apology. Anyway, on with the long overdue chapter. Hope it doesn't disappoint.
(A) Star is Binding Me
Chapter X – Revelations
It was morning. Pale sky was washed in warm blue, tinted only by the soft yellow light of the morning star, distant and yet half-hidden in the eastern horizon. Birdsong lifted on the air from tree bough, the warbling melodies continually greeting the dawning day. The grass was soft and cool, as morning dew clung to blades of healthy green that glistened in the warmth of the sunlight. Multihued flowers raised vibrant heads and verdant arms in preparation to catch life-giving sunbeams, their invigorating scents infused with the fresh spring air to impart a sense of lazy peace.
Indeed, it was a glorious morning, one that whispered promises that a glorious day was to come—perfect for sitting upon a riverbank and being spectator to the slow progression of the sun in the clear sky, and allowing the harmonious song of trees and birds and murmuring stream to caress one's ears until one fell into a languid state.
The glory of the morning, however, only served to sour his mood even more. Everything about it seemed to mock him—the promised brightness of a rising sun, the persistent cheer of babbling brook, the inspirited ovation of daisies dancing in the breeze.
Those two bickering birds, he muttered inwardly, glowering at the creatures, willing them to cease their unendless and annoying prater in whatever way was quickest, even if that way involved the swift means of death by spontaneous combustion due to being the unfortunate recipient of an elven glare.
The two birds—mockingbirds coincidently enough, which only added to his being convinced that the Valar were on a mission to irritate him to the fullest degree this morning—quickly took flight when their own annoyance with the dour elf grew to be too much. He wished he could do the same, wished he could escape like that. Their movements were quick and effortless, and they lifted lightly from branch onto breeze.
Indeed he envied them, for he felt heavy and weighted down like a lumbering dwarf in bulky chainmail. Stuck like a fly in honey. All his senses, all his perceptions, seemed dulled and delayed, and he felt as if any action he might make would come much too late and be far too little to delay this departure and stop this progression of events.
He felt trapped, trapped inside a tenebrous tunnel of emotions—anger, regret, pain, and sorrow, and worst of all, for he knew not from where it stemmed, desperation.
Ceasing his slow ministrations with a currycomb upon the barrel of his horse, Legolas rested one arm upon the proud steed's back and laid his head down upon it with a heavy sigh.
"We understand each other, my friend."
The whispered words were barely audible to his ears, but Aragorn still heard the slight note of plea in his voice. It was almost as if he were looking for confirmation, or needing confirmation. Regret once again tugged hard upon his heart. Friends such as they were not supposed to lead each down troubled roads. Friends such as they were not supposed to tread on each other's trust. Friends such as they.... A wince, and the thought was cast away upon the morning breeze.
"Legolas?"
Arod shifted his weight uneasily and Legolas stirred, reposturing himself and returning quickly to his task. Aragorn stepped out of the shadows of the stable entry and into the brightness of the sunlight streaming down into the small pasture. A long and uncomfortable silence loomed as he walked over to Legolas. Making his steps as slow as he could without his delay becoming too conspicuous, he racked his brain in search of the right words, frustrated to the point that he wanted to shout out words incomprehensible to even him.
All throughout the night he had tossed and turned, mulling over what he might say to Legolas, how he would apologize, how he would bid farewell. The words had come then—fast and plentiful—and everything that had presented itself seemed the perfect thing to say—straightforward, to the point, heartfelt, and honest. He had formed his apology and shaped his farewell with all the appropriate words; they had been neither excessively flowery nor coldly dispassionate. During the ubiquitous silence of the night he had practiced over and over within his torrent-filled mind how he would deliver those words, focusing on relaying the root sentiment behind them and conveying how much the friendship they had shared over the years really meant to him, and expressing his true hope that Legolas would find contentment across the Sea.
Yet all words escaped him now, in this moment when he needed them most, fleeing from him as a deer would flee from a greedy band of careless hunters. Any phrase of careful greeting or humble apology that came to him now was fleeting like a fluff of tree cotton floating on the air just beyond the grasp of a young child, and they fell far short of expressing his deep sorrow and guilt. Balling his hands into tight fists at his sides, Aragorn silently cursed himself that he should have lost so much sleep last night and now had nothing to show for it this morning.
"Aragorn," Legolas said, nodding brusquely to him in acknowledgement of his presence. The elf wore a mask of stolidity, but it was poorly crafted, as it did nothing to hide the remnants of personal hurt. "Was your lodging unsatisfactory, the bed uncomfortable? You look terrible." Elven eyes remained fixed on his horse.
Aragorn allowed a tense chuckle to escape. "I suppose I'll always look terrible standing next to your fairness, Elf."
No response came to his nervous remark—no twitching of the corners of the mouth, no gleam in the eyes, no quirk of an eyebrow. Nothing.
"Nay, I slept not well last night, Legolas, but it is not the bed to blame. The accommodations were beyond satisfactory. Perfectly pleasant as elvish accommodations always are." Aragorn sucked in a deep breath. "I would say sleep has eluded you of late as well, friend," he ventured in almost a whisper. He paused to consider his course. A strong desire pulled within him to avoid discussing the real reasons for their lack of sleep, but deep down he knew that he could not put it off forever, that he would eventually have to make amends for his actions of yesterday, and the sooner, the better. "I suspect we both know why we do not sleep well."
"I am of the Eldar, Aragorn. I need not this beauty sleep that Men so obviously require." The words were said with no hint of mirth lilting on the crisp voice, no ripples breaking upon the surface of the dark blue, almost black, pools.
"Nay, it would do little good," Aragorn jested in another effort to ease the tension between the two of them. Again, he met with failure. The elf does not want to talk about it. Leave it be. But the King in him, the Ranger in him, the human child raised in the noble house of Elrond in him could not—would not—let it be. It was not how he was brought up.
Ever during his childhood his twin brothers had delighted in leading him astray, and more often than not Aragorn found himself in trouble. He had learned that it was far better to face the consequences of his actions rather than ignore them or run from them, allowing them to amass and become more terrible than they would have been had he admitted whatever wrongdoing he had committed that week in the first place. Elrond was much less stern and much more understanding when it was the perpetrator who informed him of ill happenings within his household rather than the Lord of Imladris stumbling upon the evidence of such himself, or being informed of it by the lords Glorfindel or Erestor.
"Legolas, we cannot let what happened yesterday lie dormant. I would not see you depart—"
"Aragorn—"
Aragorn held up a hand, the practiced motion of a king beseeching his royal subjects to remain silent. "Please, Legolas. I cannot let you leave without an apology. My actions of yesterday were inane and senseless. I know not what came over me."
"Nor do I," Legolas said. His voice was frosted with the biting chill of a dead winter's day.
Aragorn shook his head, his transgression replaying all over again in his head. Had he been thinking properly—nay, thinking at all—he would have known Legolas had not yet departed. The clues had all been there. Nothing of true meaning, besides his bow, had been missing from his chambers, and that meant nothing as Legolas seldom went anywhere without the gift of Galadriel or his silver-hafted knife. "I wasn't thinking, my friend," Aragorn confessed. "I should have realized you had not left. It is clear to me now that you would not have without taking with you the gifts and mementos you have garnered over the years that you so obviously hold dear. Truly I am sorry, Legolas, for my intrusion. It was wrong and dishonorable of me."
Ice broke then, and the fires of Mount Doom erupted.
"And still you do not think, Aragorn!" Legolas seemed to roar and hiss at the same time. His face contorted in rage. "Do you not think I hold friendships dearer than the mere trinkets that represent them?! Do you not think that I will bid farewell to those friends when the time does come for me to sail the Sea?! Do you think I would be so cold and so heartless?! Do you think me so weak as to succumb so easily?"
Aragorn stared wide-eyed and speechless at the elf. Never had he heard so many furied words fly out of Legolas' mouth at once. He was beyond "Thranduil Mode," and Aragorn wondered momentarily if this was perhaps the fabled "Oropherian Mode." Regardless, the words struck Aragorn's heart, their sharpness and pointed truth wounding him, and he realized with a great sinking feeling that he had wronged his friend in a way far graver—far, far worse—than just a simple invasion of the elf's privacy.
"Legolas—"
"Leave it, Aragorn," Legolas cut him short, turning briskly to walk away.
"Nay, Legolas," Aragorn said, grabbing his arm. The Sindar prince whipped around, first staring hard at Aragorn's hand, then fixing the king with a most elven glare that brought with it the command 'release me or else,' but Aragorn refused to obey. "Nay, Legolas," he repeated, determination steeling his voice. "Not until we settle this matter."
Aragorn had thought it not to be possible, but the weight and fire of Legolas' glare increased tenfold. "And what is this matter, Aragorn? Truly, do you know?" he demanded, his voice taking on an almost mocking tone.
"Legolas...." Aragorn hesitated. His own voice was harsh, and he regretted the aggravation stirring within him that Legolas' tone had managed to incite. He started again, softening his speech. "Legolas, I am aware now that it is not so much anger that fuels your words, but hurt. I should not have doubted you."
For a long moment, Legolas made no reply. Instead he returned his attention to Arod, stroking his muzzle with a slender hand, his eyes gazing deeply into the horse's eyes. If not for the pervading tension, Aragorn would have considered it a most serene moment.
"And yet you were not alone in your doubt," he whispered. The statement was made as almost an admission of something, but of what Aragorn knew not.
"Legolas?"
The elf shook his head, then spoke brief and imperceptible words to Arod who trotted reluctantly off across the pasture to join Roheryn where she grazed idly.
"Legolas," Aragorn tried again, his tone passably commanding the elf to share.
"Nay," Legolas said, shaking his head once more, though not with the forlornness with which he had done so before, but rather more stubbornly, more resolutely. The son of Thranduil would not discuss the matter.
Aragorn ignored him.
"Please, Legolas," he coaxed, gently squeezing the elf's arm. "Please."
Legolas dropped his gaze to the ground and his eyes closed as he inhaled a slow, deep breath, as if he were preparing himself to make a confession. Silence stretched out between them, long like a midsummer's day. Then slowly his head rose, and his eyes opened, heavy with unspent tears.
"You were not alone in your doubt," he said again, his voice soft and strained, a hint of a waver.
"I do not understand—"
"You were not alone in your doubt. Celebhil, Daewen, even Talathion.... You were not alone in your doubt." His head bowed and shook again as he repeated the phrase for the fourth time; the forlornness had returned.
"Legolas, you—"
His head came up, and his eyes stared hard into Aragorn's. "I know what you will say, Aragorn. You would tell me I am not at fault, that I am mistaken, but I am not and I am to blame." His tone would brook no argument.
"Legolas—"
"Nay, Aragorn. I am." Legolas had firm control of their conversation now, and it was clear from his voice and his gaze that he was not soon relinquishing it. "Had it stopped at Celebhil I would have found it amusing, for ever is he mucking things up, but for you, and Daewen, and Talathion.... And I wonder now if Gimli would have come barreling upon horse, had word reached him." A pause; a slight shake of the head. "Nay, for all of you to think me leaving—to think me to slink away, wordless and wistful—it speaks of me, of my mood, of the way that I must have been treating you over the years. You expected this of me."
"Nay, Legolas," Aragorn said matter-of-factly, finally given the chance to speak. "Gimli would not have come." Legolas' eyes narrowed at his statement. "Gimli has more sense than that. Gimli does not doubt true friendship."
The words were authentic and honest, and were meant to soothe. The softening of the lines upon Legolas' face gave evidence that they had accomplished their purpose, but only to a degree.
"Besides, I think not that seeing you off would be enough to get that dwarf on a horse again, not after what happened last time from what I have heard," Aragorn jested delicately.
A faint smile turned itself upon the corners of Legolas' lips, the sight of which warmed Aragorn's heart.
"I warned him not to use his heels, and had he seated himself properly he would not have bruised so badly," Legolas replied, an allusion of mirth surfacing upon the ocean-hued pools of his eyes, but still they had yet to return to their more brilliant shade of blue.
"Never will he learn, for he is as stubborn as you," Aragorn said, feeling a tinge of relief that he and Legolas seemed to be on their way to closing the rift between them. Still, the heart of the matter went unresolved and Aragorn felt the need to make further amends pressing down on him, for Legolas' sake as well as his own. He would not let his friend hold the guilt of the previous days' events, though he knew the elf would put up a valiant fight to retain it. The Lord of Edhilbar had as many issues with responsibility as the King of Gondor and Arnor.
"Legolas." Aragorn lingered over his name and his tone disclosed that he was returning to a more serious matter.
Legolas flinched and looked away, crossing his arms, a clear indication that the son of Thranduil would hear no more.
"Legolas, I know you wish to abandon the matter and I will let it rest, but I want you to hear this first. To understand—nay, to really know this."
Despite the authority ringing clear in his voice, Legolas would still not meet Aragorn's eyes.
"Legolas, look at me when I say this, for I would have you see the genuineness of my words."
The elf turned his head to look upon the king, but still there was aloofness in his gaze and in his stance.
Aragorn took what he could get. "Though I can only speak for myself, I am certain you would find Celebhil and Daewen and even Talathion to be in agreement with this assessment." He paused, wanting to give more weight to his next words. "Our judgment of your intent was clouded, Legolas. It had nothing to do with you, with how you have shared yourself—your friendship—over these past years. For myself, I can say judgment was clouded by regret, and selfish wishes. I cannot deny that deep down I want you to stay, my friend." Legolas made to reply, but Aragorn quelled him with a raised hand and a shake of his head. "But I know you cannot. I know the Sea calls constantly to you. Still, I cannot deny my hope that you would remain yet a little longer, until Edhilbar was more firmly established, until the land of Ithilien grew green with content, until my time on this earth has passed." The last words were whispered—barely a breeze on the air—and immediately Aragorn regretted giving breath to them; but it was too late, for elven ears had heard them and had heard them clearly.
A look of divine glory seemed at first to settle itself in Legolas' eyes and upon his face, but quickly it flickered away and was replaced by an amused light gleaming within the sparkling blue orbs and a smile playing along his lips.
"Aragorn, I do not leave yet," he told him, his voice unwavering.
"Legolas, I do not ask you to stay. I know—"
"Aragorn," he interrupted, bringing both hands up to grasp the sides of Aragorn's shoulders firmly. It was an odd sort of feeling for Aragorn and it quite literally threw him off balance, for rarely did Legolas initiate such contact. "I do not leave yet."
It was Aragorn's turn to protest, but Legolas quashed all his attempts with his indomitable gaze.
"I stay not for you, Aragorn, nor for Gimli. I stay not for anyone but myself, and for myself I would stay for the length of your days. I know not if I will be able, but if it is in me then I will."
So touched was he by the words, and still not understanding entirely why Legolas had said that he was not leaving yet, that Aragorn stood speechless for several long moments. Overwhelming pride in his friend welled up inside him, yet at the same time he found himself more than a little confused by Legolas' revelation. Here the elf had said he would try to hold off answering the Call of the Sea and yet Aragorn had come to Edhilbar with the purpose of bidding farewell to his friend whom he had been told would be departing. And did not the letters from Imrahil allude to his leaving soon? He wondered if this was the elvish flare for contradicting oneself and yet not really contradicting oneself that was rearing its ugly head. He wondered if this were some elaborate hoax that the elf had generated, but the vividness of Legolas' anger and hurt from only a few moments ago quickly convinced him it was not. Finally, when he felt his brow could knit no further together, and this he believed the elf did deliberately wait for, Legolas bestowed upon him an explanation.
"'Twas Celebhil's doing, though not on purpose, and I suppose I am not entirely guiltless in the matter, for it was my words which were vague that led him astray," Legolas elucidated. "I have made no decision to leave, Aragorn. I am sorry that you came here expecting otherwise."
"Nay, Legolas," Aragorn objected, though unable to restrain a low chuckle brought about by the irony of the elf's apology. Had the apology been made entirely in jest, Aragorn would have played along, as he was accustomed to the notoriously flitting moods of elves. However, Legolas had been completely sincere and Aragorn suspected he felt some guilt for inconveniencing his friend, though no such inconvenience existed. "I am more than relieved to find that you do not depart. You need not apologize. It is I who should apologize."
"You have already, Aragorn, and I accept your apology. Now I would have us forget about all this so that we may move on with the day and enjoy each other's company, for soon will you not need to return to your city? Your people expect their king to be present for the celebration of the New Year, do they not?" Legolas asked, leading the way back towards the stable.
"They do, but Faramir is there and he and Arwen oversee the preparations," Aragorn replied. "I will not have to return until the day after next."
"That is good," was all Legolas said.
Returning to the stable, Legolas began to tidy Arod's stall aided in part by Aragorn. Silence again fell between them, but this time it was comfortable silence, the kind in which only good friends on good terms could share. Indeed, Aragorn treasured moments such as these, for it was at such times that he felt closest to Legolas. Words needed not be spoken because it seemed they knew what the other would say. Legolas, he was certain, would comment on the beauty of the day, despite the fact that he was currently holding a shovel-full of manure, or on the merry melody being sung by a pair of birds, perhaps even joining his voice to the song. Aragorn, on the other hand, would have commented on how impressed he was with the elven colony and then inquired further about how their work progressed in Ithilien. Legolas no doubt was already aware of Aragorn's gratitude to the elves so there was no need to voice his appreciation; and in answer to his question about their task of restoring Ithilien, the elf would most likely only say, "It progresses well," and the king would be forced into playing a game of "Quest for Answers" in order to get the information he wanted. It was not that Legolas would want not to share with Aragorn the progress of his people's work; in reality, Aragorn knew Legolas to be quite proud of all that they had accomplished thus far. The youngest son of Thranduil simply took much pleasure in being difficult. It was a trait he had inherited from his father.
Thankfully he inherited not his father's proclivity for holding grudges, nor for cruel and unusual punishments when one does wrong by him, Aragorn thought, realizing all of a sudden how readily Legolas had forgiven him for invading his chambers and reading through some of his personal correspondences. Indeed, it seemed not to bother the elf at all, and Legolas appeared to have forgotten the incident had ever occurred. Had it been Thranduil's chambers in which he were snooping, Aragorn was certain the people of Minis Tirith would be seeing their king no time soon as he would surely be detained in one of the Woodland King's wine cellars and forced to listen to several renditions of "The Barrel Song" over and over. Either that, or the Good and Wise King* might possibly find it within him to release me, were he in a particularly sporting mood, though no doubt I would be missing a few digits, Aragorn gulped mentally.
Just then, Aragorn noticed Legolas had finished his tidying, apparently satisfied with their work, and was gifting him with an odd sort of look. The elf chimed a laugh that was long and light.
"What?" Aragorn asked, oblivious to what had sparked the elf's amusement.
"You looked both positively horrified and overwhelmingly relieved for a brief moment there, Lord King," Legolas said, his voice lilting still with his merriment. "I've never seen you look so."
"Oh," Aragorn replied, unaware that he had allowed his musings to show on his face. "'Twas nothing," he said unconcerned, in an attempt to dodge.
"Ai," Legolas laughed. "You'll not get off that easily, Aragorn. I remember now that you've possessed that look once before, when first you visited my father's realm, bringing the creature Gollum along."
Aragorn remembered well how hesitant he had been to meet Thranduil and then ask of the king that his people keep Gollum, who at the time had been most wretched and vile.
"Nay, Aragorn, you dreaded it," Legolas said, grinning a grin that scraped against Aragon's nerves. Rangers dreaded nothing, or were supposed to anyway.
"You were thinking how lucky you are that I am not my father."
Aragorn failed in stifling a laugh at Legolas' observation. It was uncanny how well the elf could read him at times.
"Something like that, yes," Aragorn confirmed. He chose his words carefully, for he wished not to rehash their earlier words to each other, yet still he felt like he owed Legolas something more for invading the elf's privacy.
"You believe me to have been too lenient," Legolas said, and again Aragorn was amazed at the elf's seeming clairvoyance. "Thranduil would have strung you up by your heels for your trespass," he continued, being just vague enough, Aragorn noted, to ensure his banter did not stray into matters still tender. "I would emulate him, if you wish me to."
"Nay, Legolas, that is alright. Do not trouble yourself."
"You are certain?" he asked. Aragorn smiled and nodded his head, almost sketching a bow. Legolas harrumphed disappointedly. "I will save the string for Talathion then."
It came as a jest, though Aragorn could tell there was something more smoldering beneath it, for the mirth that had been dancing in Legolas' eyes halted suddenly and the blue orbs seemed to flash darkly. It was obvious Legolas was extremely angry with Talathion, and he had good reason to be. Aragorn feared for the warder, but in truth he felt deep sorrow and sympathy for Talathion more than anything else, for he had witnessed the pain and desperation the warder so clearly experienced because of Legolas' seeming departure. He regretted having stirred these emotions within the elf, and this dampened his mood considerably.
"Legolas, be not harsh or hasty when you speak with him about...about the misunderstanding that has occurred. He cares for you deeply. He acts only out of love for you."
"Talathion is my concern, Aragorn, not yours," Legolas said, highly affronted.
"Yes, Legolas, I am well aware," Aragorn said, placating yet wanting still to impart his worry for the warder. "I only ask that you try to understand him, and the reasons for his actions. It is clear he suffers still from the loss of his wife and son, and will be greatly pained by your departure, whenever that will be."
Eyes flashed again, a warning that a storm was beginning to brew. "Aragorn, abandon this," Legolas warned. "It is my concern, and I will deal with him as I see fit."
"Fine," Aragorn conceded, not wanting to go two rounds with the elf in one day. He didn't think he would survive. "How can I argue with you and win when you sound most positively like Thranduil?"
It was clear Legolas recognized Aragorn's attempt at humor as a tactic, but he grinned all the same and the storm seemed to blow itself out of his eyes.
"Yes, there is that," he said, crossing his arms in front of his chest. One imperial eyebrow arched up. "We've yet to decide upon the recompense for the earlier misdeeds of a certain Ranger with quite the penchant for snooping."
Aragorn knew the elf to be jesting, yet at the same time he was being quite serious. "I am sorry, Legolas, and I would make it up to you. You need only tell me how," he apologized again for good measure. No honey and spiders, no honey and spiders, Aragorn pleaded mentally.
"I would seek your aid, and then perhaps your counsel," Legolas said simply.
The request, for that was what it was, took Aragorn completely by surprise, and he shook his head to make sure he heard correctly.
"My aid?" he inquired.
"Yes, your aid in tracking, and based upon what we find, your counsel," Legolas explained. "You see, we found this woman...," the elf began.
"A woman?" Ai, Valar. What has he done now?
*"The Good and Wise King" is TreeHugger's. Well, no; I should clarify that. Thranduil is not TreeHugger's. Thranduil belongs to nobody but himself. The aforementioned phrase is TreeHugger's. I hope you don't mind that I borrowed it again, nin mellon!
From PP: Heh. Shameless plug time again. Check out my bio on the profile page for it.
Amber a.k.a. Stimpy – I like Legolas angry too. Quite the turn-on. He is indeed a whole person—er, elf—with complex emotions. He feels them all. And he ain't done yet. I'm glad you still love Celebhil. He's off patrolling the western woods for a while but he'll be back in this story. Thanks for reviewing!
TreeHugger – Celebhil and Legolas did have an interesting childhood; their story is ever on my mind and I will tell it one of these days, but I want to finish this one first. Who know it would grow to be this long? I certainly didn't. Originally I had thought it would be around 12 chapters. That ain't going to happen. I'm not even going to try and give an estimate on how many are left, even though I know where it's going. As you can probably see, the mystery lady will finally begin to come into this story more. I might keep you in the dark for a couple of more chapters, but you should eventually find out who she is and why she is here. Heh. Yup, Legolas is a neat freak, though I've heard not so when he gets into a lingerie drawer. I guess he gets a little too excited and forgets himself. Grrrrr, TreeHugger. You just keep wanting more and more one-chapter stories. Stop feeding my bunnies! I'm running out of cages! LOL – "Mad Elf." ::giggle:: I like that. Thanks for your review, Tree!
VladimirsAngel – LOL. You want a back-story too about Legolas' mementos. Hmmmm, maybe.... I had no plans to fill in those details, figuring the readers might have fun filling them in themselves, but we willl see. Of course Aragorn was bound to be caught. No fun would be had if he hadn't been. I'm glad to hear I pulled off Mad Elf (c. TreeHugger) well. Legolas is not done yet. There's Talathion still.... Thanks for the review! Hope your Legolas didn't put you too badly into debt. LOL Legolas has a bad speeding habits, doesn't he—cruises, theater candy....
Ana – A new face! Welcome, Welcome! I know you're confused; you're meant to be and I assure you that you are not alone. In fact, the confusion will become even greater I fear before this is through. It's how I like to write; I like to watch the readers flounder for answers while I sit there dropping very vague hints and say, "It will come. It will come. Be patient." ::grin:: Anyway, your first question was answered. Legolas is not leaving. It was all just a misinterpretation of words that got out of hand. Will he be leaving in the future? Yes. I'm not sure we're really any closer to finding out what's going on, but we are quickly getting there now. When I first conceived of this bunny, I didn't think any other character—canon or original—would really come into play in the story, but they have demanded attention and I like that it has evolved beyond just a story of Legolas and this woman and instead has become more about relationships and the struggle to maintain them in tough times. Thanks for reading and reviewing. I hope you continue to stick with me as I try to get you to the answers you are looking for.
al & Legolas – LOL You and your commas I'm smiling all over again as I read your review. I see your mind wandered there a couple of times throughout. That's okay though. My mind wanders there constantly. I might need some of your countermoves should I give into to Tree's persuasions and write up some of those stories. I'll let you know. Yes, Legolas is very much like his Ada and he is very much a neat-freak. LOL Legolas and I soooooo would get along great; I was the same way with my crayons and markers—black, brown, purple, blue, green, red, orange and then yellow. They had to go back in the box in that order. Don't even get me started on the box of 64 crayons! Hey melethron! Sorry you didn't like the kiss from Celebhil. He liked it! The woman will come, or will she? Or perhaps it will be Daewen? Or maybe it won't? Keep tapping those long fingers of yours. You'll get what's due to you, I promise.
Um, yeah, that was intentional. Yeah. [Note to self: Run grammar check on Reviewer Responses]
Melian – You and I must have a little math lesson, but it's makes me happy to hear that you enjoyed the humor of the last chapter. I enjoyed envisioning it all—"Thranduil Mode," the meat slicing. Our elf is very yummy when he's "Mad Elf" (c. TH). Nope, Legolas can't hear the trees as well as he used to sometimes. I've just always thought that about him, and I'm surprise more people don't. Galadriel's message makes it very clear that he'll no longer delight in the trees and I think that's partly due to the fact that the Call of the Sea is ever in his mind so he can't hear treesong as clearly anymore. Just my overactive imagination I guess. LOL I didn't mean for the trees being amused to turn into such a riddle for you, my dear. They were amused because they knew Aragorn was coming, and here Legolas and Celebhil were thinking the whole misunderstanding was settled. Trees have a wicked sense of humor, don't they? ::grin:: Ah, the women...Of all people, Melian, you should be most patient. I know I haven't told you all, but you know more than the others. Insert standard mantra here: "The answers will come. Be patient." LOL You are just as turned on by "Mad Elf" (c. TH) as I am it sounds. Hmmmmm, where'd that plot bunny go to? I'm glad you enjoyed the dinner and the dropped side-stories in the last chapter. I had quite the fun time coming up with those. I would be more than happy to inspire you for your own "Mad Elf" (c. TH) writing especially if that means seeing a new chapter coming from you. It's longer overdue than mine was. LOL Melian!!! No tongue from Celebhil! I have a hard time reining him in as it is; I can't have you egging him on. You'll get that story eventually, and Celebhil will get his tongue—er, I mean Legolas will get Celebhil's tongue. ::grin:: Thanks for your awesome review, nin mellon!!
reginabean – Another new face! Welcome to you as well! Good to have you here! Alas, I bet your snow is gone now, isn't it? Mine is, and we are having beautiful weather in Minnesota, and here I am inside sitting at the 'puter and not out enjoying it. Oh well. Yes, Legolas was really mad at Aragorn, but that anger has shifted and it is now himself he is mad at. Of course, that won't be so when Talathion comes back. Look out, Tal! No, he won't stay mad, though I think by the time this story is through, he'll wish his anger had stayed. It is a much easier emotion to deal with, I think. We'll see.... Thanks for reviewing!
Ithilien – It is sad that Legolas can't hear the trees as he once had. I think that why I love Legolas in sea-angst so much. Here, he should be content and happy, for Shadow has been destroyed and he's made great friends, yet he is longing for something else, something that will take him away from those friends. I love that sense of yearning, and it makes our elf very laudable that he should be able to deny the Call for so long because of his friendships with Aragorn and Gimli. ::sigh:: What a loyal husband he would make. ::grin:: Yes, Aragorn should have known better than to snoop; he knows that now. He should have known that Legolas will not have leave without saying goodbye to his friends first. Or will he? LOL. "Sexual intent for our elf." LOL You must have her confused with me. ::grin:: I'm sorry my updates are slow. It takes awhile for the muse to recuperate, or to come back from his vacations. I'm hoping now that the weather is nicer, Legoals will stick around more and won't abandon me again. Thank for the great review, as always!
taoist elf - Thanks for your reviews on chapter 1 and 2. I hope you can catch up soon. And I hope I can catch up quickly with you as well. Heehee, Legolas definitely is a dirty fighter, at least when it comes to Talathion. And yes, the elf did ask for the cut on his cheek. Bad karma indeed! I'm glad you love my Legolas! I love him too!
Well, that's it for now. Don't know when the next update will come; hopefully, it won't be as long, but then again you know me, and my bratty muse.
