Chapter Four
By Nemi and Sitrine, who also owns nothing
Legolas was on his way to the dungeons. The new prisoner, the strange yet elf-like male, who had--somehow--managed to confound, avoid being captured (for less than five minutes but still) by, both himself and a whole troop of guards while being surround by said troop and nose to nose with the prince!
Never mind the only reason they caught him the second time was because of that deep bite mark on his leg. Legolas knew from experience that the body oft ignored wounds when fleeing for ones life. He, along with many of the guards, surmised that this is what happened to the randir, and his body finally gave out.
Legolas wondered what it could have been though, he had never seen teeth marks quite like that before... He mused upon it as he walked, lifting his eyes momentarily to check his surroundings.
The guards outside the cell alerted him that it was the correct one. His father's dungeons had been rather empty since the quest, and now the stranger was the only one incarcerated therein.
"So quiet Banshee prince-ling?" Legolas snarled, causing the door guard to look at him, rather shocked. He had no idea what a 'Banshee' was but he knew instinctively that it was quite insulting, especially after being called time and time again on the trip back to the palace by the uppity randir.
"I am no Banshee prince-ling. I am 20 yen old, randir.." He could sense the mocking before it even started. "That's about 2961 human years." He turned to the guard. "Edra-I anon." The guard complied, glancing at his prince just to see if he was all right.
Though everyone knew he wasn't.
As soon as Maclyn saw the prince, he grinned.
"Perhaps my mother didn't lay with a warg, but rather your father; you have spared few enough kind words of him."
That seemed to change something in the prince.
"My father is a fine elf." Legolas heard the other's thoughts as well as he heard his own and paused to detangle himself. Coming to terms that the randir knew he was lying. "Nay, he's not. My mother was. Father--He likes to start wars. And kill his children in them, and steal gold and-and-. Why in Valar am I telling you this?" The moment of simple emotion was broken and Legolas felt a longing matched by the other prince within his mind...and it wasn't mocking.
But that one statement caught his attention.
"Steal gold?! Why?" The prince just stared at him.
"It does not just appear out of thin a-ir..." His haughty voice trailed when he looked around. His emerald eyes flicked around the cell, and the bars of the enclosure, for it wouldn't do to call it a cell any more.
Silk. Jewel toned and finely woven. In the dungeon. The bars were covered in it. His father wouldn't have provided silk to the dungeons even if he had silk of those startling colors and quality.
The room was well appointed, a bed, an oak table, silk and pillows everywhere and large pieces of colored glass embedded on the wall near the ceiling instead of moldings. He looked back at the apparent author of all this, focusing on Mac's re-disguised eyes. "Or does it, as this did?" Mac met Legolas's raised eyebrow with his own.
"Duh." Just to prove his point, Maclyn concentrated on the gold bar he had seen frequently Underhill, typical Fort Knox sort of thing. There was a shimmering and that very brick appeared in his hand. Maclyn lifted his gaze just in time to see the elf jump back. He was so very tempted to ken a huge pile of the stuff but when he looked at the prince's eyes he saw no greed for it. Part of him approved, the other part was annoyed that he couldn't use it to his advantage.
"A sorcerer." There was something behind that statement that made Mac uneasy. "Perhaps Mithrandir would know what to do with you." Legolas turned towards the door, starting towards it.
"Your father can't even ken a gold coin? A child of three human years could." The elf-prince stopped, turning sadly.
"We know not of this 'kenning'; tis unbeknownst to us on this side of Amman."
Mac raised his eyebrows. "Then perhaps more of your kin should mate with wargs." The gold disappeared as he watched Legolas. The prince was chuckling.
"You still do not know what a warg is."
He replied gruffly, "And you don't know what a banesidhe is, though I doubt you're related to one; your voice is too fair." A strange look passed through Legolas's face, and for the life of him Maclyn could not imagine why he had said that.
"You think my voice is fair?" he looked almost sorrowful. "Only 3 hath said those words before. Mother, Frodo and--" He shook his head.
"You aren't a Bard, though it is fair."
For a moment, Legolas became very annoyed. "Of course I am no bard! I am Prince Legolas Greenleaf Thranduilion! A Teleri elf of the sindar elves of Mirkwood. I am no mere bard."
Mac rolled his eyes, though the name reminded him of something. I know I have heard that name before.
"Not a bard.but a Bard." He watched the confusion flicker through Legolas's eyes. "Not the plain mistrals. It's...A type of Magic." He bit his lip for a moment, he had never met anyone who did not know what a Bard was. "I think we have stumbled upon a language barrier. Let me say this though, when I say Bard," and you could hear his capital 'B', "I speak of someone who is treated like royalty for their gift, and not a traveling minstrel."
Mac glanced at Legolas again.
"I have never met you."
Maclyn jumped back and narrowed his eyes at Legolas.
A wall slammed up between them, mentally. Solid, or at least it should have been. Legolas's mind instinctively reached out to explore the smooth 'surface,' pushing at it, there had been something like this before. When the randir had first landed upon him he was completely open, and then something 'snapped' into place when he disappeared right before his eyes. It was like a very fine piece of linen, shading the light, but now it was thicker, like a heavy velvet curtain.
Legolas could feel the other's horror, that though most of his thoughts did not reach him some of his emotions still reached past the curtain, he tasted the emotions. And he knew something.
He shouldn't be able to feel him.
The randir drew back slightly, and stiffly, and formerly, introduced himself, "I am Maclyn Arrydwyn, son of the late Dierdre Sherdeleth and the Prince of Elfhame Outremer. I am the rider of great metal steeds and horses of air and magic. Guardian of the Twilight Lands, Knight of the Light Court under Kevinghin Silverhair, immortal walker among mortals." He left off the 'And would you kindly get the fuck out of my head?' bit as he didn't think it would be polite.
A nod of understanding appeared as the prince smiled softly. "As the nine walkers." Maclyn's face reflected startlement, and disbelief.
He became canny then, sliding closer to the bars and speaking softly, "Perhaps, perhaps not. I bear a ring that binds me to uphold the Seleighe court and fight against the Unseleighe."
Legolas leapt backwards, avoiding the golden carved ring on the stranger's finger. Part of his mind wondering what 'Seelie'and 'Unseelie' were and coming to the conclusion that they were morgul, as obviously was the being's magic was. But there was something else he needed to be sure of before he did anything hasty.
"Tis not the One Ring, is it?"
=============================================
It's Background lesson that can't be fit into the story time!
The author of this chapter profusely apologies if it is ungainly but she needs to go over the past for those who don't know Mac's story and for those who do know to learn what happened to him after the book.
Since I don't think I'll be able to fit it in within this chapter I will state it here. In the books the Sidhe don't seem believe marriage is necessary for legitimate children. In fact there is one instance where a child of pure human blood is recognized as being part of the Elfhame. The child's mother was married to a Sidhe and fathered by proxy with a friend. See Sidhe and humans have a MUCH harder time breeding together.
In the books there seems to be a shortage of young elves. Near as we have figured out is that Sidhe are much more likely to die young, as in before 500, add this to a low birth rate. The Sidhe take it as a good idea to sleep around and have as many kids as possible, legitimacy be damned, they are children and that's all that matters. (which is why they have a tendency to adopt, or steal, human children if they see they are being treated badly)
There's only one known half-breed in Lackey's universe (Ria Llewellyn, the bitch who put Mac Underhill minus his Magic) and to sire her, well, many people had to die, their magic taped, and the mother ended up horrendously addicted to drugs and eventually died. They don't inherit immortality, but can gain it if they have enough access to Underhill magic. And it's a fair bet that they won't have a Sidhe's 'allergies' to Caffeine and Iron.
The reason for this difficulty is the difference in magic levels and type in humans and Sidhe. Recently (and canonically) a less dangerous, more humane, way has been found to enable a cross breeding.
*looks up* well I think that covers most of it. There is more to come about Daoine Sidhe (full proper name of Sidhe, Lackey's elves) in future chapters. There might be a little about Tolkien elves, but not a lot since it's easier to find info about them on the net.
By Nemi and Sitrine, who also owns nothing
Legolas was on his way to the dungeons. The new prisoner, the strange yet elf-like male, who had--somehow--managed to confound, avoid being captured (for less than five minutes but still) by, both himself and a whole troop of guards while being surround by said troop and nose to nose with the prince!
Never mind the only reason they caught him the second time was because of that deep bite mark on his leg. Legolas knew from experience that the body oft ignored wounds when fleeing for ones life. He, along with many of the guards, surmised that this is what happened to the randir, and his body finally gave out.
Legolas wondered what it could have been though, he had never seen teeth marks quite like that before... He mused upon it as he walked, lifting his eyes momentarily to check his surroundings.
The guards outside the cell alerted him that it was the correct one. His father's dungeons had been rather empty since the quest, and now the stranger was the only one incarcerated therein.
"So quiet Banshee prince-ling?" Legolas snarled, causing the door guard to look at him, rather shocked. He had no idea what a 'Banshee' was but he knew instinctively that it was quite insulting, especially after being called time and time again on the trip back to the palace by the uppity randir.
"I am no Banshee prince-ling. I am 20 yen old, randir.." He could sense the mocking before it even started. "That's about 2961 human years." He turned to the guard. "Edra-I anon." The guard complied, glancing at his prince just to see if he was all right.
Though everyone knew he wasn't.
As soon as Maclyn saw the prince, he grinned.
"Perhaps my mother didn't lay with a warg, but rather your father; you have spared few enough kind words of him."
That seemed to change something in the prince.
"My father is a fine elf." Legolas heard the other's thoughts as well as he heard his own and paused to detangle himself. Coming to terms that the randir knew he was lying. "Nay, he's not. My mother was. Father--He likes to start wars. And kill his children in them, and steal gold and-and-. Why in Valar am I telling you this?" The moment of simple emotion was broken and Legolas felt a longing matched by the other prince within his mind...and it wasn't mocking.
But that one statement caught his attention.
"Steal gold?! Why?" The prince just stared at him.
"It does not just appear out of thin a-ir..." His haughty voice trailed when he looked around. His emerald eyes flicked around the cell, and the bars of the enclosure, for it wouldn't do to call it a cell any more.
Silk. Jewel toned and finely woven. In the dungeon. The bars were covered in it. His father wouldn't have provided silk to the dungeons even if he had silk of those startling colors and quality.
The room was well appointed, a bed, an oak table, silk and pillows everywhere and large pieces of colored glass embedded on the wall near the ceiling instead of moldings. He looked back at the apparent author of all this, focusing on Mac's re-disguised eyes. "Or does it, as this did?" Mac met Legolas's raised eyebrow with his own.
"Duh." Just to prove his point, Maclyn concentrated on the gold bar he had seen frequently Underhill, typical Fort Knox sort of thing. There was a shimmering and that very brick appeared in his hand. Maclyn lifted his gaze just in time to see the elf jump back. He was so very tempted to ken a huge pile of the stuff but when he looked at the prince's eyes he saw no greed for it. Part of him approved, the other part was annoyed that he couldn't use it to his advantage.
"A sorcerer." There was something behind that statement that made Mac uneasy. "Perhaps Mithrandir would know what to do with you." Legolas turned towards the door, starting towards it.
"Your father can't even ken a gold coin? A child of three human years could." The elf-prince stopped, turning sadly.
"We know not of this 'kenning'; tis unbeknownst to us on this side of Amman."
Mac raised his eyebrows. "Then perhaps more of your kin should mate with wargs." The gold disappeared as he watched Legolas. The prince was chuckling.
"You still do not know what a warg is."
He replied gruffly, "And you don't know what a banesidhe is, though I doubt you're related to one; your voice is too fair." A strange look passed through Legolas's face, and for the life of him Maclyn could not imagine why he had said that.
"You think my voice is fair?" he looked almost sorrowful. "Only 3 hath said those words before. Mother, Frodo and--" He shook his head.
"You aren't a Bard, though it is fair."
For a moment, Legolas became very annoyed. "Of course I am no bard! I am Prince Legolas Greenleaf Thranduilion! A Teleri elf of the sindar elves of Mirkwood. I am no mere bard."
Mac rolled his eyes, though the name reminded him of something. I know I have heard that name before.
"Not a bard.but a Bard." He watched the confusion flicker through Legolas's eyes. "Not the plain mistrals. It's...A type of Magic." He bit his lip for a moment, he had never met anyone who did not know what a Bard was. "I think we have stumbled upon a language barrier. Let me say this though, when I say Bard," and you could hear his capital 'B', "I speak of someone who is treated like royalty for their gift, and not a traveling minstrel."
Mac glanced at Legolas again.
"I have never met you."
Maclyn jumped back and narrowed his eyes at Legolas.
A wall slammed up between them, mentally. Solid, or at least it should have been. Legolas's mind instinctively reached out to explore the smooth 'surface,' pushing at it, there had been something like this before. When the randir had first landed upon him he was completely open, and then something 'snapped' into place when he disappeared right before his eyes. It was like a very fine piece of linen, shading the light, but now it was thicker, like a heavy velvet curtain.
Legolas could feel the other's horror, that though most of his thoughts did not reach him some of his emotions still reached past the curtain, he tasted the emotions. And he knew something.
He shouldn't be able to feel him.
The randir drew back slightly, and stiffly, and formerly, introduced himself, "I am Maclyn Arrydwyn, son of the late Dierdre Sherdeleth and the Prince of Elfhame Outremer. I am the rider of great metal steeds and horses of air and magic. Guardian of the Twilight Lands, Knight of the Light Court under Kevinghin Silverhair, immortal walker among mortals." He left off the 'And would you kindly get the fuck out of my head?' bit as he didn't think it would be polite.
A nod of understanding appeared as the prince smiled softly. "As the nine walkers." Maclyn's face reflected startlement, and disbelief.
He became canny then, sliding closer to the bars and speaking softly, "Perhaps, perhaps not. I bear a ring that binds me to uphold the Seleighe court and fight against the Unseleighe."
Legolas leapt backwards, avoiding the golden carved ring on the stranger's finger. Part of his mind wondering what 'Seelie'and 'Unseelie' were and coming to the conclusion that they were morgul, as obviously was the being's magic was. But there was something else he needed to be sure of before he did anything hasty.
"Tis not the One Ring, is it?"
=============================================
It's Background lesson that can't be fit into the story time!
The author of this chapter profusely apologies if it is ungainly but she needs to go over the past for those who don't know Mac's story and for those who do know to learn what happened to him after the book.
Since I don't think I'll be able to fit it in within this chapter I will state it here. In the books the Sidhe don't seem believe marriage is necessary for legitimate children. In fact there is one instance where a child of pure human blood is recognized as being part of the Elfhame. The child's mother was married to a Sidhe and fathered by proxy with a friend. See Sidhe and humans have a MUCH harder time breeding together.
In the books there seems to be a shortage of young elves. Near as we have figured out is that Sidhe are much more likely to die young, as in before 500, add this to a low birth rate. The Sidhe take it as a good idea to sleep around and have as many kids as possible, legitimacy be damned, they are children and that's all that matters. (which is why they have a tendency to adopt, or steal, human children if they see they are being treated badly)
There's only one known half-breed in Lackey's universe (Ria Llewellyn, the bitch who put Mac Underhill minus his Magic) and to sire her, well, many people had to die, their magic taped, and the mother ended up horrendously addicted to drugs and eventually died. They don't inherit immortality, but can gain it if they have enough access to Underhill magic. And it's a fair bet that they won't have a Sidhe's 'allergies' to Caffeine and Iron.
The reason for this difficulty is the difference in magic levels and type in humans and Sidhe. Recently (and canonically) a less dangerous, more humane, way has been found to enable a cross breeding.
*looks up* well I think that covers most of it. There is more to come about Daoine Sidhe (full proper name of Sidhe, Lackey's elves) in future chapters. There might be a little about Tolkien elves, but not a lot since it's easier to find info about them on the net.