Author's Note: I can't believe how long this story has gone on for, and I look back on some of the earlier chapters and cringe in horror… but this story is my baby, so onwards we go! Many apologies for the delay. Oh yes, this is being switched to R because of the violence back in the beginning chapters, not quite sure why I didn't leave it that way in the first place. Enjoy this longer than usual chapter!
Chapter 21
^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^
From the moment the sun spilled across the honey-glazed wood of her room, she knew that the time for action was now. No more escapades and twirling around the subject, but rather a quick-footed ambush. She dressed quickly and walked with short steps to the door of Legolas' quarters, knocking forcefully at the heavy oak door.
He came out alert and fully dressed, and her subconscious grinned in the knowledge that he was as ready to do this as was possible. They had no plan but to wait in seclusion, watching the tread of all who walked by upon the snow.
Isorfir, unbeknownst to the rest of the community, was resting alone in a far tower of the palace, abandoned by all until now. His mind weakening, Fiothiel knew that the best recovery for him would be to rest in warmth, lie in medicinal dreamless sleep until the caresses of time soothed his jangled nerves. She left him alone last night with a brush of lips against his forehead, his recovery never far from her mind. She knew Legolas understood the situation, for the careless prison guard had hurriedly spat the news to him the previous night. Assured by Fiothiel's nod from across the room, he told the guard to keep an eye out, and sent the befuddled elf away.
Their footsteps grazed silently over the top of the deepening snow, leaving nothing but slightly ruffled ice crystals in their wake. Without speaking, the two elves stepped a fair distance into the sunrise-lit woods, and settled down to wait behind a group of shrubs that stubbornly held onto their leaves, despite the cold. The path that they watched was well used during the day, frequented by both handmaidens and royalty alike. No one could be ruled out. Elrohir was laying in wait beside the east wing, alone but still deadly with a precise accuracy when handed a bow.
Finally taking the time to acknowledge the other's presence, the guard and the archer locked gazes. Memories of fire-glazed eyes rippled through their thoughts, of honey-coated tongues and sunlight-ridden hair. Both brushed away such daydreamings with a careless hand, but drops of glowing embers still lingered in the present icy mindset of both. Finally deciding to speak, Fiothiel opened her mouth, whispering hoarsely.
"We have quite a task set out for us today, Greenleaf. I hope you are prepared to endure long hours spent waiting."
He smiled lopsidedly in response, and leaned the full length of his spine up against the rough tree bark, his cloak catching on the corrugated wood.
"After spending so many years in pursuit, I think waiting will be a welcome change."
They bantered back and forth so quietly that even elven ears couldn't catch their mutterings, further muffled by the snow-burdened evergreens, bending over with the white weight. Both felt a sense of comfort aided by the slide back into a friendship, but the skipped heartbeat when their eyes met spoke of something missing, however easily overlooked by the project at hand.
Their soft words ceased as the first travelers of the day began to traverse the path, their heritage reflected through their footsteps when their delicately pointed ears were hidden. Fiothiel felt the cold begin to seep through her heavy wool cloak, and shifted positions fairly frequently, as did the Prince. The urgency of their task only fueled the adrenaline that still lingered despite the cold and the lack of change in the consistently light-footed tread marks. The hours rolled by, gathering the shadows and the fading light to trail behind it in a glittering brocade of chiaroscuro. Their mouths grew solid as the silence melted their jaws together, lips like sandpaper in the dry chill.
Finally the fading light disappeared with a wink of a sunset, sliding off behind the blackened hills. With muscles feeling like blocks of ice and breath exhaling in ice crystals, the two cramped elves took their leave from the darkening glade. Walking defeated side by side, the palace doors gleamed welcomingly in the distance like twin embers in ash. Slowly working apart her clamped jaw, Fiothiel asked the one question that had been on her mind since the time she tackled an elven stranger in the woods.
"Legolas," she queried, "why is it you have not taken your journey across the seas? You have seen many years, and surely after the quest was fulfilled, the seas have crossed your mind more than once."
He stopped walking then, and glanced down at the ground as if in thought before answering her. "I would be speaking untruthfully if I said that the sea does not call to me, for it does, more often than I think I can stand. But I know that something is keeping me here, something unfinished and unknown to myself. When I am in the company of some, the cry of the gulls and the crash of the waves diminishes, and I remain in the world I have known all my life."
Fiothiel nodded her head in understanding, and the ice crystals trapped in her hair caught the light of the fading moon. Still inquisitive, she spoke again.
"What is it that keeps you here?"
Legolas lifted his head to the stars and smiled, closing his eyes as if expecting a gift from the heavens. He turned to face her, and she felt her question catch in the back of her throat as he stepped closer, and she reached out a hand to place upon his shoulder. He placed his hand on the skin between her jawline and throat, sweeping the gentle waves of her hair behind her shoulder. She unwittingly closed her eyes, and the silvery light cast curving shadows along the top of her cheekbones as she felt her pulse catch when his hand brushed against her neck.
After the cacophony of senses began to dwindle into familiarity, he leaned in closer to her, speaking into her ear and igniting a flame near her trapped heart, crashing in her ribs.
"Something enchanting keeps me here, an enchantment that appeared before me in the flesh, filling out my doubtful dreams like a river in a dry creek bed. Nae saian luume it has been too long, Fiothiel."
She blinked slowly, trying hard to sweep away the feeling of his warm cheek against hers, the mist of their breath expanding and disappearing in the frozen air like clouds after a storm. She drew back, her hands still grasping his forearms. Staring blankly at the night-lit shadows of his face, she raised her hands to his face as she spoke, forgetting all rational thoughts.
"It has been a full cycle of the moon, my lord," their profiles moved closer, like two links of a chain waiting to be fit, as her voice dropped in tone, "but even a day would be too long."
Their lips met with a sweetness that faded the reality of their situation to a blurry cloud of grey and white. She grasped his cornsilk hair, running her fingers along the nape of his neck as if to take the shape to memory. She could feel his hands softy following her jawline, the blunt tips of his fingers leaving flushed skin in their wake. His lips left hers for a brief snatch of time, but that heartbeat was enough to brush the cool wind across their faces, snuffing the soft warmth that pushed away all qualms.
Fiothiel looked at the snow-brushed ground, and lowered her hands from his shoulders to grasp his and bring them down to his sides as he stood unmoving. She glanced up, and saw that he was looking beyond her, staring at the woods from which they came. She could feel her heart drop down to her knees as he spoke, still staring blankly, not even a glimmer in his eye as his voice broke from a whisper.
"Meleth nîn…" his voice trailed off to nothing as she blinked away a glimmer in her eye, knowing that even if she was to let a tear fall, it would lie frozen on her cheek.
"Goodnight, my lord." Her legs stood ready to flee, but her spirit lingered as she leaned forward and kissed the bridge of his nose, standing on tiptoe with her head leaned back, both hands holding onto him as if he was keeping her from slipping into oblivion.
^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^
Unexpected, yes, but irrelevant? On the contrary, very relevant. Those two elves are together wise beyond their countless years, both skilled in the art of physical and mental combat. Their embrace came as a surprise to me, as well as their timing. Why would they be out on this path at this hour of the night? The answer should be obvious, but their tryst seems to be something that even they couldn't have predicted.
I hear whispers about the palace, the prison guard confused about the loss of the prisoner. I knew he wouldn't stay long, he's far too clever to be trapped. Always sneaking out of things. It will not be long until I find out where he is being kept, I am far too plain to be noticed wandering in places I shouldn't be. He knows my face, oh yes he knows it well. Hazel eyes are not forgotten for long.
^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^