DISCLAIMER: same as before, yadda yadda yadda- the character of Mek is
mine, i think. thank you to all my reviewers! and i promise- this chapter
is better than the others! (atleast i hope so)
Aragorn stopped on his way back to his room to admire the view from a balcony. Thinking back on that day before in Rivendell, he ruefully thanked the Valar that the trees in his home did not grow as tall as the ones here in Mirkwood. He stood there, drinking in the sight and sounds when he suddenly heard a familiar voice behind him.
"Hello Aragorn."
He turned, smiling. "Gandalf! I did not know you were in Mirkwood!"
The wizard smiled in turn and settled himself next to Aragorn, looking up at the starry night sky. He finally said, "I did not think I would be here either, but there are some matters in Mirkwood I find too pressing to ignore."
"Thranduil?" Aragorn guessed. Like Arwen, he too had sensed that something was not right with Legolas' behavior. Gandalf merely nodded, but offered up no more information. Then another voice called from behind them.
"Mithrandir?" Legolas asked. They both turned to see the Prince, or rather the outline of the Prince, barely visible in the shadows of a tree.
"Yes, young friend. I decided to drop in for a visit. I trust my timing is acceptable?" he smiled at the Elf-shadow before him, but the smile did not reach his eyes. In face, Aragorn almost imagined that there was sadness in Gandalf's eyes.
Aragorn saw the Elf's head nod. "Perfect timing, in fact. I was just coming to tell Estel that the evening meal is ready." Aragorn nodded his thanks and began walking towards the dining hall when he noticed that Gandalf had yet to move.
"Legolas, will you be joining us for said meal?" the wizard asked softly. Aragorn heard a sigh just as soft from the shadows.
"I may be a little late, I am not feeling entirely well," came the reply.
"Then you know I shall not eat in the same room as that-"
"Mithrandir," Legolas' voice sounded strained, and Aragorn sensed they had had this argument before. He moved closer to Gandalf and watched Legolas, who was still concealed in darkness. Legolas continued, "You know you cannot call Thran- the King those names."
"I know no such thing," Gandalf said. His face finally turned to match the emotion in his eyes, sadness. "What do you call a King who hits his own son?" With that the pillar of Gandalf's staff shone brightly, casting away the shadows that Legolas had hidden in.
Aragorn managed to suppress a gasp, but his eyes widened in shock as he took in the appearance of his friend. Legolas has a much darker and larger bruise on his cheekbone than before, and his eye seemed slightly swollen. His lip was also cut and bleeding. His shirt and tunic were ripped in several places, showing cuts and bruises where skin should have been. He was holding on slightly to the tree beside him for support, as if he were too weak to stand on his own.
"Legolas," Aragorn said softly. Legolas flinched; he had thought Aragorn had left. He looked down, almost ashamed of himself.
"It is-" he was about to say it was nothing, but he doubted they would believe him. "He is just testing me."
"He's hurting you, Legolas," came another voice. Elladan and Elrohir appeared with Mekahb, Legolas' best friend in Mirkwood, and one of the few who knew about the King.
"Mek," Legolas began.
Mekahb shook his head. "No. This had been going on for far too long."
"Indeed it has," Elrond and Arwen also stepped onto the balcony.
Legolas groaned inwardly. His secret was unraveling too fast for his liking. He did not like being weak in front of so many, especially since he loved and respected those in front of him. He sat down on a bench and put his face in his hands, wincing at the pressure applied to his bruises.
Mekahb was next to him in an instant, placing a hand on one shoulder, and then hastily removing it when he felt Legolas shudder at the touch. Elrond also noticed this, and something clicked in his mind. The twins used to tease Legolas for being too jumpy, for flinching at sudden movements near him. But everyone, including Elrond himself, had always just dismissed it as part of the Prince's nature. But the truth was almost too much to comprehend. He shook his head sadly and watched as this same realization came over the faces of his sons. He wondered if they felt as guilty as he did.
A silence dragged on for several minutes. In that time Legolas sat, still shaking, his head still in his hands. Just when he thought he would scream from the tension in the air, he felt a new presence beside him. Arwen. She sat down on the bench, placing one calming hand on his arm and running the other hand over his head and through his hair, clearing out tangles she knew had come when he had been beaten. "Legolas," she whispered into his ear. He barely acknowledged her. The others stood around them, wanting to help but not sure how. Arwen brushed some strands of hair off of his face but still could not get him to look at her. She kept her cool hand next to his cheek, which felt burning and hot under her skin. "Legolas," she repeated. "We must do something about this. It cannot be allowed to go on anymore." She then thought of the bruise he had supposedly gotten from the Warg. How could someone do this? As if echoing her thoughts, Legolas shuddered again.
"Legolas," Gandalf's voice was gentle, but firm enough for the Prince to finally raise his head. "You must tell us. Everything."
Legolas sucked in a shaky breath, and after an encouraging nod from Mek, began to explain.
Aragorn stopped on his way back to his room to admire the view from a balcony. Thinking back on that day before in Rivendell, he ruefully thanked the Valar that the trees in his home did not grow as tall as the ones here in Mirkwood. He stood there, drinking in the sight and sounds when he suddenly heard a familiar voice behind him.
"Hello Aragorn."
He turned, smiling. "Gandalf! I did not know you were in Mirkwood!"
The wizard smiled in turn and settled himself next to Aragorn, looking up at the starry night sky. He finally said, "I did not think I would be here either, but there are some matters in Mirkwood I find too pressing to ignore."
"Thranduil?" Aragorn guessed. Like Arwen, he too had sensed that something was not right with Legolas' behavior. Gandalf merely nodded, but offered up no more information. Then another voice called from behind them.
"Mithrandir?" Legolas asked. They both turned to see the Prince, or rather the outline of the Prince, barely visible in the shadows of a tree.
"Yes, young friend. I decided to drop in for a visit. I trust my timing is acceptable?" he smiled at the Elf-shadow before him, but the smile did not reach his eyes. In face, Aragorn almost imagined that there was sadness in Gandalf's eyes.
Aragorn saw the Elf's head nod. "Perfect timing, in fact. I was just coming to tell Estel that the evening meal is ready." Aragorn nodded his thanks and began walking towards the dining hall when he noticed that Gandalf had yet to move.
"Legolas, will you be joining us for said meal?" the wizard asked softly. Aragorn heard a sigh just as soft from the shadows.
"I may be a little late, I am not feeling entirely well," came the reply.
"Then you know I shall not eat in the same room as that-"
"Mithrandir," Legolas' voice sounded strained, and Aragorn sensed they had had this argument before. He moved closer to Gandalf and watched Legolas, who was still concealed in darkness. Legolas continued, "You know you cannot call Thran- the King those names."
"I know no such thing," Gandalf said. His face finally turned to match the emotion in his eyes, sadness. "What do you call a King who hits his own son?" With that the pillar of Gandalf's staff shone brightly, casting away the shadows that Legolas had hidden in.
Aragorn managed to suppress a gasp, but his eyes widened in shock as he took in the appearance of his friend. Legolas has a much darker and larger bruise on his cheekbone than before, and his eye seemed slightly swollen. His lip was also cut and bleeding. His shirt and tunic were ripped in several places, showing cuts and bruises where skin should have been. He was holding on slightly to the tree beside him for support, as if he were too weak to stand on his own.
"Legolas," Aragorn said softly. Legolas flinched; he had thought Aragorn had left. He looked down, almost ashamed of himself.
"It is-" he was about to say it was nothing, but he doubted they would believe him. "He is just testing me."
"He's hurting you, Legolas," came another voice. Elladan and Elrohir appeared with Mekahb, Legolas' best friend in Mirkwood, and one of the few who knew about the King.
"Mek," Legolas began.
Mekahb shook his head. "No. This had been going on for far too long."
"Indeed it has," Elrond and Arwen also stepped onto the balcony.
Legolas groaned inwardly. His secret was unraveling too fast for his liking. He did not like being weak in front of so many, especially since he loved and respected those in front of him. He sat down on a bench and put his face in his hands, wincing at the pressure applied to his bruises.
Mekahb was next to him in an instant, placing a hand on one shoulder, and then hastily removing it when he felt Legolas shudder at the touch. Elrond also noticed this, and something clicked in his mind. The twins used to tease Legolas for being too jumpy, for flinching at sudden movements near him. But everyone, including Elrond himself, had always just dismissed it as part of the Prince's nature. But the truth was almost too much to comprehend. He shook his head sadly and watched as this same realization came over the faces of his sons. He wondered if they felt as guilty as he did.
A silence dragged on for several minutes. In that time Legolas sat, still shaking, his head still in his hands. Just when he thought he would scream from the tension in the air, he felt a new presence beside him. Arwen. She sat down on the bench, placing one calming hand on his arm and running the other hand over his head and through his hair, clearing out tangles she knew had come when he had been beaten. "Legolas," she whispered into his ear. He barely acknowledged her. The others stood around them, wanting to help but not sure how. Arwen brushed some strands of hair off of his face but still could not get him to look at her. She kept her cool hand next to his cheek, which felt burning and hot under her skin. "Legolas," she repeated. "We must do something about this. It cannot be allowed to go on anymore." She then thought of the bruise he had supposedly gotten from the Warg. How could someone do this? As if echoing her thoughts, Legolas shuddered again.
"Legolas," Gandalf's voice was gentle, but firm enough for the Prince to finally raise his head. "You must tell us. Everything."
Legolas sucked in a shaky breath, and after an encouraging nod from Mek, began to explain.