CHAPTER THREE
A/N: Ah, back for more, are we? Yay, I feel loved! It's been an extremely boring day, so I'm just feeling very spurned and unloved since no one will do anything with me. Wah, I want my Raquel to return from Florida! MEH! Ahem. I'm better now. It's just, the Middletown Giants have their first game tonight and Aleta is here but Raquel isn't and we always go together. That's very depressing to know we won't be going. Oh well. BACK TO THE SUBJECT AT HAND. This is obviously continuing where we left off, with the two boys going down to dinner. Mayhem continues, this time with a bit more Legolas angst. Ah, gotta love angst.
Once again, // for thoughts and * for italics.
Chapter Three
Elrond drummed his fingers against the tabletop. The two boys were late. Dinner had started ten minutes ago, and there was no sign of them yet. Five minutes later, loud, violent sounds came from the staircase at the opposite end of the dining hall, accompanied by loud voices, obviously bickering with each other. Elrond sighed.
"Hurry *up*, you clumsy oaf!"
"I am not *clumsy*, you stuck up prig!"
"I'm not stuck up, I'm just better than *you*!"
"OW! Don't *push*, Legolas!"
"Then get out of my *WAY*!"
With that, a loud thump echoed down the staircase, followed by a startled cry and a series of tumbling thuds. Seconds later, Estel and Legolas tumbled into view, tangled together in a mass of flailing legs and arms as they struck out at each other wildly.
"BOYS!"
Both boys stopped what they were doing, turning to stare at Elrond in surprise. Legolas gave Estel one last punch for good measure, not breaking his eye contact with Elrond as he did so.
"OW!"
"LEGOLAS!"
The younger elf stared unflinchingly up at his superior, not even batting an eye. Elrond sighed.
"Boys, I would like you to explain to me exactly what happened here."
"It was all *his* fault," Legolas said, shoving Estel back down to the floor and standing up, dusting himself off. "He was making us late."
"*MY* fault?!" Estel cried indignantly. "You pushed me!"
"You were in my way! You fell, and then you grabbed me and dragged me down with you, you ninny!"
"Well, you shouldn't have *pushed me*, you horse's ass!"
"ESTEL!"
Estel jumped guiltily at the angry tone in his foster father's voice. Elrond did not look at all pleased.
"Boys, you are already fifteen minutes late for dinner. I will not tolerate ANY FURTHER DISRUPTIONS!"
Estel gulped nervously; Legolas hid his unease underneath the usual air of disdain he showed to everyone. Elrond glared right on back until Legolas nervously looked away. "All right then. Now, if you boys would just...follow me." Elrond bowed slightly to the elves at the table, then turned away and began walking in the opposite direction, leading the two young boys through a pair of large doors. Moments later, Elrond stopped in front of a small table. "Here you are, boys. Your new dining accommodations."
Legolas and Estel looked around the room, eyes wide with shock. "We...we're going to be eating in the *kitchen*?!" Legolas was incensed.
"Yes, Master Legolas," Elrond sighed. "I believe I told you this earlier."
"This is an OUTRAGE!" the young elf continued angrily, completely ignoring the elf lord, "How can you treat us like this?! This is *servants* stuff!"
"Ah, but even the *servants* are behaving better than you are right now!" came a merry voice from behind them. Legolas glared at it's source.
"Thanks for the help, Elrohim. Why don't you just mind your own business," the young elf grumbled. Elrohim smiled down at him.
"In trouble again, young Master, hmm?" he laughed. "I'd advise you to start behaving, or you'll be stuck in these arrangements for a very long time. You don't leave until next spring, remember? It might work to your best interests to heed Lord Elrond's words."
//Shit.// Legolas felt realization dawning on him with Elrohim's words. //I'm going to be here for a very long, long, long long time. Shit. Shit shit *shit*!// Sighing yet again, he glanced up at Elrond. "My apologies, my Lord Elrond, Elrohim," he stated, nodding to each in turn. "I shall try to mend my ways." //Like *hell* I will.// he thought silently.
//Bullshit,// Estel thought, shaking his head as he glared balefully at the young elf.
"I am glad to hear it, young master Legolas. I must go and rejoin the table now. Enjoy your meal." With that, Elrond left, the double doors swinging behind him.
"You should not lie to Master Elrond, young master."
Legolas glared up at the source of the voice. Estel was stunned. "You knew he was lying?!" the young mortal was incredulous. Elrohim laughed.
"I have known young Legolas since he was born. I can *always* tell when he is lying."
"Yeah, you need to stop doing that," Legolas interrupted crossly.
"Doing what, young master?" Elrohim asked innocently.
"Analyzing what I say. Telling people when I'm lying." Legolas scowled. "It's *annoying*."
Elrohim shrugged. "Sorry, young master, I can not help it. It's instinctive. Now, I suggest that you two sit down and enjoy this spectacular meal." He smiled at Legolas, who returned it with a glower, and then to Estel, who rolled his eyes at Legolas and smiled back. Elrohim walked back to his own table, leaving the two boys staring belligerently at each other. Without speaking, each plopped down into chairs on opposite sides of the table and began eating.
Legolas ate very daintily, taking very small bites of everything and eating slowly, not taking much interest in his food. Elves ate mainly for sustenance, though they took pleasure in food as they did with everything else. Because of this, they often eat with a sense of almost...detachment. This was how Legolas ate. Taking a sip from his goblet, his eyes caught Estel and he paused, slowly setting the goblet on the table as he stared in rapt attention at the young mortal.
Estel, unlike Legolas, was taking huge bites, quaffing his drink in mammoth gulps, and making a general mess of himself. Normally, Legolas would have regarded the mortal with disgust for a moment, possibly made a rude remark, and then turned back to his own food. This time, however, something struck him. The amount of enjoyment Estel took in the food was clearly etched on every corner of his face. Legolas had never seen anyone take food with such zeal. It was a new experience for him, and he was captured completely by it, a thrill coursing through him for reasons unknown.
After some minutes, Estel became aware of Legolas' attention. He slowly lifted his head to meet Legolas' gaze, his eyes very cautious. "What?" he asked, staring in guarded confusion at the young elf.
Legolas hadn't realized that he had been so obvious in his attentions. He immediately averted his eyes, blushing for the second time that day. "What?" he asked, knowing what Estel was asking but reluctant to answer the mortal's question.
"Why are you staring at me?" Estel asked bluntly.
"I wasn't staring at you, you crazy human," Legolas responded in a surly manner. Estel's eyes narrowed.
"Careful, you prissy elf. I might just have to knock some sense into that pretty blonde head of yours."
"Ah, but your 'daddy' won't like that, will he?" Legolas taunted dully, not even caring for the sport of making fun of Estel.
"Like your dad would!" Estel shot back. "That stuck of prig of a father of yours!" Then, he recalled something he had heard once about Legolas' father...
*FLASHBACK*
"Poor young Legolas." The voice was full of a great sense of pity.
"What do you *mean* 'poor young Legolas'?!" the second voice demanded. "He's a spoiled brat!"
"Yes, but his father pays him no mind whatsoever, nor does any other in the royal family," the first voice continued. "He should have someone to care for him. He's all alone."
*END FLASHBACK*
A wicked gleam lit Estel's eyes. "But then again," he continued "maybe he *wouldn't* care what you do. I mean, it's not like he cares about you at all." Estel watched Legolas closely with extreme satisfaction. The young elf's reaction was instantaneous. He froze immediately, back ramrod straight and eyes glassing over. The hand that had been holding his goblet clenched tightly around the delicate glass chalice. He didn't look at Estel; his glassy eyes stared off into space, the look in them a cross of emotions that the young mortal couldn't begin to comprehend. Estel felt a tiny twinge of guilt as he stared in shock at the power his words had, but pushed it down right away. //He made fun of me for having no father...he deserves this.// Then, Estel noticed something else: Legolas was shaking. The ice in his goblet plinked gently against the side of the glass as he grasped it tightly. Without any warning, the glass shattered into a million pieces, unable to withstand any longer the pressure that the young elf was exerting on it. Bits of glass dug into Legolas' hand, making deep cuts. Blood ran down his hand and dripped onto the tablecloth. Estel stared in horror, but Legolas had not reacted at all.
"Legolas! Are...are you all right?" he asked timidly. Without answering, Legolas' face took on a more normal expression, eyes clearing as he placed both hands flat on the table and stood up. Without further ado, he calmly picked up the water pitcher and brought it crashing down over Estel's head. Estel cried out, more in surprise than in pain. Luckily for him, the goblet had made a clean break and barely cut him. He looked up at Legolas with shocked eyes just in time to see the young elf dive across the table, one hand reaching for Estel's throat, the other driving straight into Estel's face with a violent blow. Legolas knocked Estel backwards, the chair tipping over and bringing both boys to the floor, Legolas on top of Estel. The young elf straddled Estel's chest and began hitting the boy over and over, barely able to see through the tears that had flooded his eyes, the tears that blurred all vision as he refused to let them fall.
"Bastard!" Legolas seethed, voice catching in his throat. "Rotten mortal *bastard*!"
Elrohim was at his side in an instant, hooking his hands under Legolas' arms and dragging the young elf off of Estel. "Legolas!'
Enraged, Legolas pushed at Elrohim, trying furiously to get back to Estel, who was scrambling to sit up, blood running from his nose and from a newly split lip.
"I hate you!" Legolas screamed, the tears now pouring down his face. He furiously brushed them away, fighting with renewed vigor at the arms that held him. "I *HATE* YOU!"
The double doors swung open and Elrond strode into the room, robes flapping behind him. He looked in shock at the scene he saw before him. "What happened here?" He looked to his foster son, obviously expecting Estel to answer.
Estel turned and looked back at Legolas. The elf was glaring at him, lip trembling with fury and emotional pain. Legolas continued to glare, his eyes meeting Estel's. Estel's gaze was no longer one of anger. It was now one of infinite sorrow and silent apology. //I'm sorry.// Unable to hold the gaze any longer, Legolas turned his face away. His anger leaving him with nothing but pain and exhaustion, he collapsed into Elrohim, trying to subdue his emotions again.
Estel looked up at Elrond. "N...Nothing, sir," he said softly. Elrond obviously didn't believe a word Estel said, but could tell when not to push the issue. He nodded once, a small, forced smile playing across his lips, then turned and left the room once more. Estel turned to look at Legolas, collapsed in Elrohim's arms, looking as if he were dead except for the silent sobs which still wracked his lithe form. Elrohim spoke inaudible words to the young elf: gentle, soft words, stroking the blonde hair in a soothing way. Legolas' body shook a little less. Elrohim carefully scooped Legolas into his arms, carrying him as if he were a baby and not a semi-grown young elf. He smiled a quick, strained smile at Estel. "I think we had better go upstairs, young Master Estel," Elrohim said softly. "I'll help you get cleaned up after I tend to Master Legolas."
Not wanting to speak lest he disturb the already upset elf, Estel simply nodded and followed Elrohim out of the room.
~*~
Estel stood in the washroom, staring into the bedroom through the small crack left open by the practically shut door. Elrohim continued to speak soothing words to Legolas, still stroking the long golden hair. Estel backed away from the door, not wanting to spy in on such a private moment when he himself was responsible for the damage.
Moments later, Elrohim pushed his way into the room, smiling wearily at Estel, who suddenly found that he didn't have the courage to meet Elrohim's gaze.
"I'm sorry," Estel mumbled, staring at his feet.
"For what?" Elrohim responded carefully.
"It's my fault," Estel uttered softly.
"Was it?" Elrohim asked gently. "What did you say to Legolas?"
"I...I said something about his father...about his father not caring about him." Estel scuffed the floor with his foot.
"Ah...I figured that it was something like that." Elrohim's voice was carefully neutral. Estel snuck a peek up at the older elf from underneath shaggy brown hair. Elrohim looked down at him. Placing his hands around Estel's waist, he lifted the young boy into the air and set him down to sit on the edge of the dresser, next to the washbasin. Dipping a towel into the water, he began to scrub gently at the dried blood on Estel's face. "I'm afraid that was not the best course of action."
"He insulted *my* father before," Estel interrupted as if protesting the unfairness of Elrohim's words.
"I'm not saying that your words were unjustified," Elrohim continued carefully. "But I do not think that either of you should say such hurtful things to each other, especially when you are so obviously destined to be together. I am simply saying that Master Legolas is extremely sensitive about his father..." He rinsed out the cloth and began gently washing the last remnants of blood from Estel's face. "...Where did you hear such rumors about he and his father?"
"From some visiting elves," Estel said, once again pacified and feeling guilty.
"Hmm...Such elves should learn to keep their mouths shut," Elrohim commented. From the tone of his voice, Estel could tell that the conversation was closed, and that any other questions on the subject would not be answered.
"What did you mean, sir...about Legolas and I being destined to be together?"
Elrohim smiled. "I should think it quite obvious. Have you ever truly looked at Legolas, young Estel? *Truly* looked at him?" Estel shook his head wordlessly. "You should do so." Estel made a face and Elrohim laughed. "Whether you want to or not right now, one day, you will. You will find yourself watching him for no reason at all, and it will happen more and more frequently. You will study him, determined to figure out what I meant. Eventually, you will understand." He lifted Estel off the dresser and set him gently on the floor once again. "Off to bed, now. It's getting late."
Estel complied obediently, changing swiftly into his nightclothes and crawling into bed. Elrohim drew the covers up for him, tucking him gently in and brushing back the uncombed hair affectionately before leaving and shutting the door behind him.
Estel lay flat on his back, determined not to do what his heart was tugging at him to do. Finally, he was unable to resist anymore. He rolled abruptly onto his side and stared across the room.
In the darkness, Legolas shone with a radiance previously unknown to Estel. The only light that shone into the room, moonlight from outside, had fallen across Legolas' face as if worshiping him, as though the young elf was the only thing in the world worthy of it's light. The golden hair spread across the pillow like brilliant rays of sunlight in the mostly darkened room. His chest rose and fell gently with each breath, eyelashes tracing delicate patterns on his alabaster skin. Estel stared at him. //What did Elrohim mean?// he asked himself. //What did he *mean*?// Finally, frustrated with his inability to answer the question, he rolled over onto his stomach, but it was some time before he finally fell into a very restless sleep.
~TBC~
A/N: Yeah, I know there are some sketchy things in this chapter, such as "Do people in Middle Earth swear the way we do?" Extremely sketchy, as is the question "Do elves even use ice in their drinks?" The answer to both of the questions is I have no bloody clue. Tolkien never gave specifics for situations like this. I doubt that they would swear the way we do, but I don't know how they *would* curse, therefore you have to deal with my version of swearing. As to the ice, I really don't give a flying frog either way. I like the mental image of Legolas shaking so that the ice in his glass clinked against the goblet...it makes me happy. Therefore, I shall use it. So there. ; D