Trapped

Legolas is trapped in a prison he never even knew was there and he's desperate to get out. Legolas/Aragorn. Angst. AU.

Disclaimer: I own my fingers. I own my thumbs. I own my keyboard. I certainly own my brain. I don't own Lord of the Rings.

Warning: Slash in later chapters.

A/N: I am writing up a thanks to all the reviewers (25, the last time I looked); if you don't want your name to be on the e-mail, please say so, either by e-mail or review. I don't want you to think I clog up your e-mail.

Also, after questions, this story is pre-Fellowship, probably around sixty years, so Estel would have been a fairly young man. (Granted he was eighty when he went on the Fellowship)

Chapter Three: Resignation

"To give myself up to matrimony would to be to burden a girl with a loveless marriage. I could never do that. Thranduil, I know, doesn't understand. I don't expect him to. He got married and everything was perfect for him and then after the attack, everything seems to have been ruined. He's got harder on us though I can barely remember him as he used to be. Was he like this when I was a child, when my brothers were children? I can't remember, I confess it, I can't remember my mother. My mother."

Legolas looked at the page emotionlessly and shut the book and put it away, as if for the last time. His fingers went to the ring again.

"Amnien?"

"Yes, sir?"

She came into the room. "What is it?"

"Could you bring a messenger to me, I need to send word to Rivendell."

"Yes, sir."

Legolas turned the ring over in his fingers as he pondered over a note and then set it aside as he wrote it, quickly, in slightly cramped Westron and signed it, Dina. He put the ring and the letter in the envelope and handed it to Amnien.

"Send that to Estel, from Rivendell… the Man. You remember?"

Amnien nodded, "Yes, I remember."

"Tell the messenger that I'll meet Estel in the kitchen-gardens, but on no account is he to tell the Man that I am…"

"Yes, sir," Amnien's mouth twitched. She wasn't stupid, that girl. There'd be no problems with her.

Legolas closed his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair, a habit he had when stressed. He didn't know if Estel would come and if he did, would he refuse to help him?

No, Estel was his only card out of here; he had to play it well. Better than he had played his father.

*    *    *

Estel tapped his feet, his eyes scanning over the complex page of elvish he'd been told to translate for Elrohir, who was in Lothlorien, visiting his grandmother. Elladan was next to him now, ruing the separation and trying to keep himself usefully occupied.

"No," he said, groaning, "Estel, your grammar…! It's atrocious! That's the male tense, you just said that Beren kissed him. It was Luthien, who was female, so?"

"Oh." Estel quickly corrected it. "It's hard for you when it isn't your native language," he complained.

"You've known it since you were four. You should be fluent now, Estel."

"I haven't got the motivation, it's not my own language."

"You spent more time learning Westron."

"Because it's my own language," Estel snapped, losing patience. "I'm not an elf and I don't see why I should put that language over learning my own!" He dropped his voice, "Don't you see, Elladan, that I can't be an elf, even if I wanted to? I can't marry one, I can't have them as my family, we're a different species. As much as I hate it, I have to plan my own destiny now, not one that concedes with the elven language for the convenience of all that speak it!"

Elladan looked shocked, "Sometimes, Estel, you forget your thanks. You should be fluent in this language, you will be fluent in this language – even if I have to make you."

"Why?" Estel pleaded.

"Because it's ours!" Elladan snapped, "We have put years into teaching you, we regard you as one of the family. We want you to know our language so it's easier for all of us. Since when have you been so thankless, Estel?"

Estel sighed, "I am grateful for your tutoring, Elladan and yet, though I honour and respect this family you forget that I am not one of them."

"It's incredibly easy to forget?" Elladan murmured.

"Incredibly."

"I can't believe that."

"But it is true. Think about it, I've been in your care since I was a very young child, you've seen me through everything… and you think you can't watch my death without a pang of pain?"

"I suppose not," Elladan, hugging Estel. "I hate to think you are not immortal, I…"

Someone ran up, "Estel, lord? A letter to you from Mirkwood."

Estel jumped, "Dina?" he said, sharply, "Is it…"

"I don't know, lord."

Estel took it from him and opened the envelope.

-TBC-