DISCLAIMER: same as before, yadda yadda yadda- thank you SO MUCH to all my
reviewers! i didn't think anyone would ever actually read this, and i get
so excited when i see a review in my inbox. and sorry about the delays
between chapters, but it's hard for me to hop off the writer's block. cya
in chapter 5, hopefully!
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Legolas sucked in a shaky breath, and after an encouraging nod from Mek, began to explain.
"I couldn't tell you the exact date when it all began. It was a. . . . . . gradual change. He wasn't always like this. So much happened to him, he suffered so greatly-"
"Legolas, there is no need for you to excuse his behavior," Gandalf quietly interrupted. Legolas looked as though he were about to reply, but the Wizard held up his hand. "Just continue, please. I want you to tell me what you can remember about this change."
Legolas nodded, the painful memories flooding back to him. He had been young, still too mischievous for his own good. Thranduil had caught him sneaking into the armory to look at the bows and quivers. They had fought, as most fathers and sons do, but something in the king had snapped. Without seeming to realize it, he had backhanded Legolas across the face. "He was so distraught; the first time he hit me, he didn't really mean it. His emotions were simply beyond his control. The look on his face. . . . . he honestly didn't mean any harm. But then it happened again some nights later. I think he felt it was a good release for those emotions." He took a pause, finally meeting the questioning eyes of Elrond and Gandalf. "It was after my mother died."
The reactions were as he suspected. His mother had died almost two thousand years ago; Legolas himself had only been about eight centuries old, the equivalent to a young child in human terms. Two thousand years?! Aragorn felt sick. How could someone go through so many years of torment- by his own father! It would be a burden Aragorn did not think he could ever bear.
"What about Radames?" Elladan asked suddenly, his voice shaking slightly. "Does he know?"
Legolas visibly paled at the mention of his brother. He opened his mouth to reply but found his voice had left him. Mek immediately jumped in to help his Prince.
"Radames not only knew, he endured the same. When he found out that his father was doing this to Legolas on a fairly regular basis, he confronted the King, only to be punished for it as well. You see, the King discovered he could 'let out his emotions,'" he spat out the phrase, disgusted, "more efficiently when using a weapon. Which meant both Princes were hurt more often and more severely as the beatings went on. But everything was kept so carefully hidden. Most Elves here know nothing of the king's anger. I only found out because I am a healer. Radames came to me for supplies when Legolas had had several ribs broken. Even that seems so long ago." Legolas nodded in agreement, eyes closed, instantly regretting the motion as the cuts and bruises on his body began sinking in and make him feel dizzy and weak. Mek looked him over with a practiced and calculating eye, before turning to the rest of the group. "Legolas really should not be here. He needs to heal and rest. I'll take him back to his room, if that is all right," not expecting any argument, he stood up and helped Legolas into a standing position.
"Just a second, Mekahb," Elrond said. "You speak of Prince Radames in the past tense. What is it that you are not telling us?"
Mek stared at the Lord of Rivendell, and felt Legolas freeze in mid-stride as well. "What do you want to know?"
Elrond softened at the anxious and pained expressions on the Mirkwood Elves' faces. "Radames is known for his loyalty and compassion, especially when it concerns his younger brother. I would like to know why it is he would leave his brother alone with Thranduil and go off on some minor excursion to as far away as Rohan in such times. Where is Radames truly?"
Mek was about to reply when a quiet voice cut him off. "We don't know," Legolas answered. He let that sink in. "We don't know where he is. One day he is here and the next, he is gone. Mek and I have searched all over Mirkwood, as far and deep as we can without garnering too much suspicion from my father. I . . . I even searched the dungeons and our resting place for bodies. Radames has disappeared. My heart has told me many times that Thranduil is behind this and he knows where my brother is, but any time I get close to mentioning Radames to him, I-" he trailed off, gesturing to his slightly battered body.
"So you can do nothing?" Elrohir asked softly, still finding all this information hard to process.
"I have tried everything I physically can. I do not think I can afford to bring much attention on myself. Part of me thinks that my father still believes that I accept his explanation of Radames' absence. If he knew what I suspected," Legolas almost seemed to shudder, something his friends were not used to seeing from their brave and lively friend. 'This treachery indeed runs deep,' Gandalf thought to himself.
The wizard's gaze turned concerned as he saw the Prince falter slightly, now leaning more weight against Mek's support. "Legolas, I believe Mekahb is right. You do need some rest to recover from your injuries."
Legolas nodded slightly, before bowing his head. "I am sorry, Mithrandir. I wanted to tell you but I was. . . I was afraid. I do not blame you for thinking me weak. It is my fault that Radames-"
Gandalf's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Legolas!" his voice rang firmly and full of shock. "None of this, in any way, is your fault. You have been faced with a hardship that none, be it Elf, Man, or Dwarf should have to face. Many more might have crumbled when you have not. Your mother and Radames would be proud of you. This is not your fault." The others said nothing, but silently voiced their agreement.
His head still down, Legolas successfully hid the tears threatening to fall down his face. "Thank you," was all he said before allowing Mek, also throwing Gandalf a grateful look, to lead him back to his room.
There was a shocked and uncertain silence that held those that remained on the balcony. Surprisingly, it was Arwen that spoke first.
"Well then," she said, her eyes flashing with anger and purpose. "Would anyone be so kind as to instruct me on the proper ways to kill an Elven king?"
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Legolas sucked in a shaky breath, and after an encouraging nod from Mek, began to explain.
"I couldn't tell you the exact date when it all began. It was a. . . . . . gradual change. He wasn't always like this. So much happened to him, he suffered so greatly-"
"Legolas, there is no need for you to excuse his behavior," Gandalf quietly interrupted. Legolas looked as though he were about to reply, but the Wizard held up his hand. "Just continue, please. I want you to tell me what you can remember about this change."
Legolas nodded, the painful memories flooding back to him. He had been young, still too mischievous for his own good. Thranduil had caught him sneaking into the armory to look at the bows and quivers. They had fought, as most fathers and sons do, but something in the king had snapped. Without seeming to realize it, he had backhanded Legolas across the face. "He was so distraught; the first time he hit me, he didn't really mean it. His emotions were simply beyond his control. The look on his face. . . . . he honestly didn't mean any harm. But then it happened again some nights later. I think he felt it was a good release for those emotions." He took a pause, finally meeting the questioning eyes of Elrond and Gandalf. "It was after my mother died."
The reactions were as he suspected. His mother had died almost two thousand years ago; Legolas himself had only been about eight centuries old, the equivalent to a young child in human terms. Two thousand years?! Aragorn felt sick. How could someone go through so many years of torment- by his own father! It would be a burden Aragorn did not think he could ever bear.
"What about Radames?" Elladan asked suddenly, his voice shaking slightly. "Does he know?"
Legolas visibly paled at the mention of his brother. He opened his mouth to reply but found his voice had left him. Mek immediately jumped in to help his Prince.
"Radames not only knew, he endured the same. When he found out that his father was doing this to Legolas on a fairly regular basis, he confronted the King, only to be punished for it as well. You see, the King discovered he could 'let out his emotions,'" he spat out the phrase, disgusted, "more efficiently when using a weapon. Which meant both Princes were hurt more often and more severely as the beatings went on. But everything was kept so carefully hidden. Most Elves here know nothing of the king's anger. I only found out because I am a healer. Radames came to me for supplies when Legolas had had several ribs broken. Even that seems so long ago." Legolas nodded in agreement, eyes closed, instantly regretting the motion as the cuts and bruises on his body began sinking in and make him feel dizzy and weak. Mek looked him over with a practiced and calculating eye, before turning to the rest of the group. "Legolas really should not be here. He needs to heal and rest. I'll take him back to his room, if that is all right," not expecting any argument, he stood up and helped Legolas into a standing position.
"Just a second, Mekahb," Elrond said. "You speak of Prince Radames in the past tense. What is it that you are not telling us?"
Mek stared at the Lord of Rivendell, and felt Legolas freeze in mid-stride as well. "What do you want to know?"
Elrond softened at the anxious and pained expressions on the Mirkwood Elves' faces. "Radames is known for his loyalty and compassion, especially when it concerns his younger brother. I would like to know why it is he would leave his brother alone with Thranduil and go off on some minor excursion to as far away as Rohan in such times. Where is Radames truly?"
Mek was about to reply when a quiet voice cut him off. "We don't know," Legolas answered. He let that sink in. "We don't know where he is. One day he is here and the next, he is gone. Mek and I have searched all over Mirkwood, as far and deep as we can without garnering too much suspicion from my father. I . . . I even searched the dungeons and our resting place for bodies. Radames has disappeared. My heart has told me many times that Thranduil is behind this and he knows where my brother is, but any time I get close to mentioning Radames to him, I-" he trailed off, gesturing to his slightly battered body.
"So you can do nothing?" Elrohir asked softly, still finding all this information hard to process.
"I have tried everything I physically can. I do not think I can afford to bring much attention on myself. Part of me thinks that my father still believes that I accept his explanation of Radames' absence. If he knew what I suspected," Legolas almost seemed to shudder, something his friends were not used to seeing from their brave and lively friend. 'This treachery indeed runs deep,' Gandalf thought to himself.
The wizard's gaze turned concerned as he saw the Prince falter slightly, now leaning more weight against Mek's support. "Legolas, I believe Mekahb is right. You do need some rest to recover from your injuries."
Legolas nodded slightly, before bowing his head. "I am sorry, Mithrandir. I wanted to tell you but I was. . . I was afraid. I do not blame you for thinking me weak. It is my fault that Radames-"
Gandalf's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Legolas!" his voice rang firmly and full of shock. "None of this, in any way, is your fault. You have been faced with a hardship that none, be it Elf, Man, or Dwarf should have to face. Many more might have crumbled when you have not. Your mother and Radames would be proud of you. This is not your fault." The others said nothing, but silently voiced their agreement.
His head still down, Legolas successfully hid the tears threatening to fall down his face. "Thank you," was all he said before allowing Mek, also throwing Gandalf a grateful look, to lead him back to his room.
There was a shocked and uncertain silence that held those that remained on the balcony. Surprisingly, it was Arwen that spoke first.
"Well then," she said, her eyes flashing with anger and purpose. "Would anyone be so kind as to instruct me on the proper ways to kill an Elven king?"