Well, this chapter is...er...interesting... you get many peculiar
things... leering paintings, dancing candle light, the origin of the word
'pimp', and flopping Elven ears... In short...be afraid...be very afraid!
Oh, and an odd little battle scene at the end where I SO stole the
'Scorpion Kick' from Trinity in the opening scene of The Matrix Reloaded!
Lol. Also, be happy, it is a little shorter then most chapters have been
recently - this one is only 15 pages long... yes, I worry about myself...
Enjoy!
*****
The Thrill of the Chase
Chapter Six
The Stranger Within
*****
Legolas felt as if he were about to explode. His blood had heated, his face burned, and his hands were clenched into such tight fists that even his short fingernails had the capability of digging into his skin. He felt as if he were trapped, as if the walls were closing in on him as he stormed down the long corridors of the main house of Rivendell. Paintings leered and watched his every move, stones laughed and the very air seemed to whisper taunts of such a kind that Legolas wanted to cover his delicate ears and never hear again.
He did not like Estel! He was not upset about hurting his feelings and he was incredibility angry about what happened in the garden: not at all pleased! He did not care what the walls sort to tell him nor for the way in which the portraits winked at him in a suggestive manner...what did they know anyway?
By the time the Elven Prince reached the door to his room he was thoroughly convinced that he was going insane, that he had a headache and that if his surroundings did not stop taunting him he was going to give them an earful.
His room greeted him with blissful silence, the walls within opting to offer the prince relief instead of more false accusations and the darkness shrouding anything that may feel the need or want to sneer at him with absurd suggestions.
A single candle stood burning near the door, having obviously been lit by one of the housekeepers at the setting of the sun. With a wistful sigh, Legolas lent down and picked it up, mindful of the wax which threatened to run down the long pillar and coat his hands. He moved slowly about his room, knowing full well where everything was and yet not having the energy or the will to make his way across the room in his normal swift pace. He was just longing for sleep, to be able to completely unwind and allow his mind to clear of everything. Of the past nights activities, of any and all thoughts of Estel and especially of the irritating need to be forever proper and respectable; the dignified Prince of Mirkwood.
Reaching the table by the edge of his bed, he angled the candle that he carried down slightly and lit the tall pillar that sat on the polished surface. As soon as the wick caught alight the room was transformed from a collection of dark shapes into recognizable objects, the oranges, yellows and reds of the candle light casting a soft glow over everything as the small flame flickered up and around the wick. The light was soothing, reliving. Unlike the strong and bright glow of the dinning halls, the two candles helped to put Legolas at ease with the way in which their light danced with the darkness which had previously claimed the room for its own, their intricate steps reflected upon the pale walls and making the paint glow like the moon.
A soft clunk resounded around the room as he placed the first candle over on the chest near his bed and grabbed the nightclothes that lay folded on the corner. A soft clunk that was closely followed by another...one which was not of Legolas' doing.
Attention soaring, all thoughts of the peaceful appearance of his chambers banished from his mind, Legolas listened intently to the tiniest sounds around him as he pulled his garments into his arms. Slowly walking towards the wash room in the same manner that he had across his room before, he made sure that naught about his actions portrayed his awareness, even as his senses suddenly pricked up at a faint sound.
An exhale of breath.
Acting as if he had not heard it, Legolas kept his eyes towards the washroom and his steps deliberately slow and lethargic while all the while focusing in on where the sound had come from.
The right side of the room...the back corner...the second window...the curtain!
His senses had already confirmed that it was not just a small gust of wind and the strange feeling of being watched had already kicked in. Perhaps he had not been insane when he had felt as if the painting were watching him in the hallways.
With all the grace of an exhausted prince, Legolas placed his clothes down on a stool in the washroom whilst subtly pulling a curved dagger from his boot. Flicking his wrist, he sent the blade parallel to his arm, hiding it behind his armguard while still keeping a deadly hold on the soft leather bound handle.
Muttering something softly to himself about it being drafty, he crossed the room to the window in fluent, silent steps, not allowing his attention to roam to the curtain even once else risking the chance of the intruder noticing. Pulling the window shutter closed, Legolas tightened his grip on the dagger and, in one swift movement, slammed the window and ripped back the curtain. Grasping the shadow that lurked there, the prince hauled the gasping being out into the light of the room and pressed his blade under the person's neck. His other arm wrapping around the figures upper body, he pushed the stranger closer into the knife as he placed a foot behind those of his intruder, keeping him in a tight position and allowing him to easily trip the foreigner if need be.
"Easy," the captive said while trying to back away slightly, only succeeding in hitting into Legolas' foot and being knocked off balance.
Having half a heart to just drop the man, having automatically recognized the voice, Legolas sighed as he retracted the dagger from the human's throat and stood back, pulling the man to poise as he did so.
"Thank you," the other muttered as he self-consciously started to straighten up the front of his dark tunic, "you were always so warm on the welcoming aspect! What? Are you not happy to see your good old friend?"
"Shh!" Legolas hissed at the man, even the way that he simply hissed coming out as a threat. "Remind me of the day that I have ever been happy to see you, Rolf!" Legolas whispered as he slotted the dagger back into his boot. "How did you get in here anyway?" Legolas continued suspiciously as he hurried over to the main door of his room. Silently turning the handle, Legolas pulled the door open and poked his head through the small slit, looking down both ends of the corridor. He was not willing to go taking any chances with anyone overhearing the conversation, let alone run the risk of some poor Elf thinking that he may need assistance. The last thing that he needed was for someone to come barging through that door to catch any scraps of speech and find a stranger of Rivendell making himself at home in the Prince's chambers.
Satisfied that there was no one, namely Estel, creeping about outside his quarters, Legolas turned his attention back on the human that stood patiently across the room, regarding him with unhidden curiosity.
"Now, now," Rolf chided with a small laugh, "you know that I never reveal my secrets, Legolas. It is what keeps me ahead in the race, you see!"
Scoffing to himself, his eyes rolling on their own accord and his head turning away from the human for a moment, Legolas once again looked to the flickering candle that stood by his bed...his comfy, soft, warm bed that would help to clear his mind...
"Fine," Legolas sighed, not wanting this to carry on for any great length of time as it took away from the sleep that he so desperately needed. "I do not think that I want to know anyway. But new question, *what in Valar's name are you doing here*?" he hissed out angrily, the candle light dancing across his narrowed eyes and plunging the hollows of his face into darkness.
"Well it is nice to see you to, Legolas," Rolf spat out sarcastically, "how are you? Life treating you well? Me? Why, I am fine, thanks for asking! 'Tis so kind of you to do so!"
"Rolf!"
"Always so proper. Never any niceties or inviting me around for drinks and to meet your friends..." Rolf continued, knowing that with each word he spoke he was testing Legolas' patience even further. Indeed it was a dangerous thing to do, but he was always one that liked to 'flirt with danger' as he so put it. "I do not hear from you, you never write let alone pop in and say 'hello'! My cousin Marten had a child by the way. Well, he did not, but Lucinda did - you know what I mean!"
Legolas' face just crumbled, his tightly drawn mouth dropping to the point of hanging slightly open as his eyes rolled back into his head which fell forward while his shoulders dropping painfully. Skulking over to the bed, he dropped unceremoniously onto the end and buried his head in his hands, cursing the Valar yet again for sending him far too many annoying acquaintances.
He already knew that there was no point in protesting, no chance this side of Mordor that he would be able to get the man to stop talking, that is, not unless he killed him, and given the circumstances that was not a good idea. One, a human body found murdered in Rivendell would do no good and would likely spark conflict with the surrounding towns, something that the Elves did not need. Two, killing him would be bound to be messy and, not only did Legolas not want to have to clean up after the act, he had the sneaking suspicion that Rolf would somehow still be able to talk even without a head. And lastly, as much as he hated to admit it, he needed Rolf. This upstart of a human was his contact, his 'pimp' as Rolf liked to call himself, though Legolas had no clue what the word actually meant. In fact, he was pretty much convinced that Rolf had either made the word up or had no knowledge of the meaning himself. All Legolas knew was that Rolf was the one that brought his clients to him. With his status, Legolas could not simply go walking into a known hideout of less then respectable beings and just hope not to be seen, so that was were Rolf would come into it. As someone who had grown up around those types of people, he was the perfect person to hear of future jobs and, in some cases give those doing the conspiring the needed push to put their thoughts into actions. He would then arrange a meeting place and a date which he would pass onto Legolas, who would meet with the client and find out the finer details. The rest was then up to Legolas and the conspirator though of course Rolf received his cut of the reward. While he did not need the types of Rolf to help him with the actual job, he would be lost without the boy to actually get him the job in the first place, and, given his occasionally homicidal urges, Legolas was not entirely sure if he was ready to get rid of Rolf quite yet...
"...Lovely baby boy, he is. Dark hair, grey eyes, overly bold - you would like him!"
The last part of Rolf's babbling caught Legolas' attention, the sly tones of his voice bringing Legolas' head snapping up to glare at the human.
"What did you say?" the Elf demanded of the smirking man. It was not that he really needed the man's speech repeated for it was merely a reaction to the way in which the others voice dripped with suggestion. Well, that and the fact that Legolas knew all too well what it was that he was suggesting.
"Resembles that dashing, though rather audacious, young fellow that you were making eyes with - well, tongue with in the garden earlier today..."
"WHA-"
"Now, now Legolas, do not go losing your temper with me like you did him. You know it will get you nowhere as, unlike him, your fiery personality will not attract me, but shall turn me away." Offering the startled Elf one of his best and biggest smiles, Rolf turned his attention from the other and started to pace around slowly. "Now, where was I? Oh yes, you know it would be polite if you would came and offer your thanks once in awhile, meet my family...though, then again, if I had such a passionate secret relationship with such a great kisser then I..."
"We are not together!" Legolas protested in anguish, the mere idea turning his insides and making him almost woozy. Glaring up at the man, he saw him nod his head in forged understanding as he winked repetitively at the Elf.
"Of course not..." Rolf's eyes lit up, his hand moving to cover the base of his collar bone as he let out a dreamy sigh. "Your secret is safe with me!" he mouthed over to the stunned Elf.
"No! I mean it! I hate him!"
"Of course you do!" Legolas wanted nothing more then to beat that patronizing tone out of the man's voice...well, that and wipe that half dreamy, half jealous look from his face.
"Rolf! Listen to me!" the Elf said slowly, sounding out ever syllable as if he were teaching a small child to pronounce a word correctly, "I. Do. Not. Like. Him! I do not even *know* him!"
At that Rolf's face fell and his posture slumped as a wistful look full of longing overtook his features. "Oh, what I would not give to be in one of those relationships," he sighed out as he looked upon the Elf with jealousy, "knowing people is so overrated anyway. As long as they can..."
"ROLF!" Legolas interjected before he found out far more then he ever wanted to know about the human. As it was they were treading dangerous ground. It was a personal rule of Legolas'; never get attached. You never know who is going to try and stab you in the back or which innocent will get hurt due to being associated with you.
"Rolf, please, cut to the chase. Why are you here?" Legolas asked, his patience finally worn out. Why should he care what Rolf thought he was up to anyway? Let him believe that he and Estel were involved in some great love affair; it was not like he had anyone to tell.
"Ah, see, I knew that you would ask that sooner or later." Rolf said with a big grin and with that same, almost insane tone of voice as he completely ignored Legolas who tried to point out that he had in fact asked the same question awhile ago. "I do in fact have another job for you - you are quite popular, you know! Guess we can all see why, especially if you treat people that you do not know like you did that young man..."
"He kissed me, not the other way around..." Legolas slipped in, knowing full well that Rolf was paying no heed to him whatsoever.
"That's nice," Rolf replied, though Legolas was sure he could have told Rolf that he resembled an Orc and he still would have received the same response. "But anyway, that...well, let just say that that is not the *real* reason for my coming all the way here! And it is an awfully long way, I will have you know!"
Waiting for Legolas to nod his understanding, Rolf then proceeded to make a show of reaching into his left breast pocket, imitating the sound of a drum roll with his tongue as he produced a folded sheet of paper.
"Da-da-dum. You should be proud!" he stated with a bow while handing the parchment over to the seated Elf. As Legolas' fingers closed around one corner, he found that the young man was unwilling to let the letter go and thus he was made to sit there, holding onto half the paper as Rolf continued to talk.
"Never before have the stakes been so high, let alone one of out humble few having been," he paused, his eyes rolling to the side and his lower lip disappearing between his teeth as he searched for the right word, "shall we say...nominated!"
Snatching the note from the other, Legolas inspected the weather worn parchment with a curious eye before slowly unfolding it. "Nominated?" he asked as he opened the last crease.
Eyes quickly scanning over the Westron words, Rolf could visibly see Legolas' face drain of all colour. His hands started to shake as his eyes expanded in a fashion that looked as if they were attempting to take over his entire face. Even the tips of his ears, normally a slight rosy-red went pale and, in his rumor entertained mind, Rolf imagined that if the Elf before him really wanted to, those points could flop in defeat, adding further visuals to his woe.
After a few moments of utter silence, the relative calm of the room was finally broken in a way that gave suggestion to the fact that all of Rivendell would now be awake...
"WHAT?"
*****
He had been pacing for almost an hour - back and forth, back and forth. To the window, to the washroom door and back again, pausing only to stare intently at the piece of paper, checking to see if his eyes were playing tricks on him, before scoffing and starting up again. The sheet of paper looked as if it were years and years old, it having been folded again and again while being turned around in the pacing Elf's hands.
Legolas was horrified to say the least. Granted that he was not scared, though he knew that he should be, he just seemed to have difficulty getting his head around the entire situation.
Who in Valar's name would put two thousand gold pieces on his head? Did they not know what they had done? Not only would he officially have every fool with a sword or pitchfork trying to get his head, he now ran the risk of someone seeing this. What if his father saw this, or Lord Elrond? Admittedly, it did not say his name or the fact that he was Elven royalty, or even the fact that he was an assassin, but the picture was real enough and, even someone with only half the normal senses would be able to tell that it was he. His picture with a reward of two thousand gold pieces written in large, bold writing was floating around in places that only the Valar knew. There was not even a contact listed! No time or place to claim the reward, making it all the more dangerous. He had no way of trying to backtrack the progress of the flyers, especially since Rolf had picked some random man's pocket only to chance upon this. He did not even know whom it was that he stole it from.
To say that this was not a good thing would have been the understatement of his lifetime!
"Now, contra to what you may be inclined to think," Rolf finally broke the silence, his index fingers raised in the air to state his point, "I did not come here to collect the reward - though I must say, two thousand gold pieces...my, my!"
"Shut up and let me think!" Legolas snapped at the human, his pacing still in full swing as he folded the paper back up again.
"Oh, I forgot that you can be a little testy sometimes," Rolf muttered to himself, his eyes drifting down to examine his nails.
"Rolf, let me make this simple for you," Legolas offered as he stopped right in front of the man, "I have a great disdain for your race and if you so much as make another sound, I promise that you shall have a first hand encounter with the product of my hatred!"
Rolf's eyes merely widened in shock and surprise at the Elf's threat, knowing full well that it was not wise to test Legolas' word. Annoying him was one thing, but when the Elf was in such a mood, even he saw the logic in either making himself scarce or being utterly silent in hopes of allowing the Elf to forget of his presence. Making a dramatic point of pressing his lips together and raising his hands in a form of compliancy, Rolf settled for sitting back in his chair and watching the Elf continue with his pacing. It was rather quite interesting if you looked at it in a certain light...
"Anyway," Rolf piped up after awhile, his courage returning - either that or it was desperation setting in due to the fact that he wanted to be gone as soon as possible. Legolas' constant pacing was starting to put him on edge. Normally the Elf was bursting with energy and unbridled excitement at the prospect of a new job. But this? This was just unnatural. His silence, his rhythm and the way in which he persisted to stare at the flyer actually placed a small smidgen of fear in Rolf's heart - fear that Legolas would suddenly just snap, that his anger would well up and that he would take it out on Rolf. Now that was something to be greatly feared...
"As I said, I have another job for you," Legolas' 'pimp' continued, "Real heart wrenching stuff, if you know what I mean. Son wants his old father and village overlord dead so that he can claim his estate and 'set things right within the village.' The way I hear it, the son lost all his money in a bet and thus needs a quick fix to save his head. So what better way to gain wealth quickly then by having your own father whacked in his sleep?"
"Charming," Legolas muttered to himself, his eyes still locked onto the reward poster as he continued his pacing.
Frowning at the Elf's actions and obvious disinterest, Rolf bit his lower lip and snuck across the room towards the small table. "Well, since you are all for listening to me at the moment," he said as he pulled a wad of paper from one of his pockets and snapped open the pot of ink on Legolas' desk, "I shall just write down everything that you need on this little piece of paper here and leave it for you to peruse at a later date. No meeting is necessary as the client wants it over and done with. So just do your thing and he will be waiting for you at...and you are not even listening to me. How nice!"
"Yaha," Legolas murmured, words now seeming to be placed in the same category as paying attention: non-existent.
"Well then, since we are on such a high note," Rolf said while slowly stepping backwards and towards the window, his hands raised in front of his body in defense, "I guess that I shall be going." He offered the Elf a small bow, touched his closed fist to his forehead, blew him a kiss and wiggled his fingers, his mind telling him to do whatever he could to get the hell out of that room before the Elf blew. "Have fun, enjoy life, kill the old guy and get as many of those 'I was not kissing him' kisses as you possibly can!"
With that he retreated out of the room and swung easily onto one of the closer tree branches, leaving the almost catatonic Elf to his pacing and thoughts.
*****
The utterly satisfying sound of wood splitting into wood resounded around the small clearing, taking some of the troubles from the anxious Elf. After Rolf's visit the night before, Legolas had naught in the way of sleep, his thoughts much too troubled to even allow his mind a moment's rest. The rest of the darkened hours were spent in contemplation. He had paced the night away, his hands folded behind his back and his head lowered as he walked circles around his bedroom. Even the time that he had spent on his balcony, looking out into the moon and firefly lit forests had done little to calm the speeding of his heart or silenced the questions that raced about his mind. In the end, he had resided himself to mindless pacing until the morning hours came, bringing with them a touch of slightly renewed concentration. He skipped breakfast, not wishing to be within the company of anyone with his present state of mind and had instead gone over and over the plans and notes that Rolf had given him, successfully formulating an unflawed line of attack for his next job.
He had decided, after thinking long and hard on it, to delay the assignment for another day or so, this conclusion reached due to a number of circumstances. For one, his mind was far to preoccupied to be trusted to be fully alert, clear and rational if faced with a difficult situation and two, his excuse for leaving would seem more believable if delayed for as long as possible. Legolas planned to inform Lord Elrond that he wished to travel the countryside of Rivendell and reacquaint himself with the wonders of the forest that he had not visited for many a year. The only problem with such an excuse was his claim to fatigue the night before. If he were to attempt to leave today and Erestor were to find out his plans, Legolas was more then sure that the advisor would do all within his power to keep the Prince in the city or worse, insist that Legolas be accompanied by an escort. It was needless to say that both instances were the worst case scenario and would only cause more problems then what the day's head start was worth.
Thus acquiescent to his fate, Legolas had turned his attention to a small clearing that he recalled from the days that he and Elrohir used to practice their bowmenship. He had been there for close to three hours and within that time there was hardly a moment when he bow left his hand. Draw, hold, release, fetch. Such a steady rhythm and unchallenged sequence of events did wonders with quenching both his anger and the hits of fear that ebbed at the corner of his conscience.
Left eye squinting only slightly, Legolas fluently drew one of the long, slender arrows from the quiver strapped to his back, gripping just above the fletching with curved fingers. The arrow slipped from the quiver with a move so smooth and quick that it was hard to see, and it was not until the notch at the top of the shaft surrounded the string that any onlooker could correctly conclude what was occurring. As Legolas pulled back on the string with his right arm, his elbow bent and stretched out to his side without so much as the slightest of muscle spasms as would be expected when drawing a bow of such strength and resilience. Feet apart, left in front and body sideways to the target, Legolas easily kept the string pulled back, defeating the constant need for the Elven-hair line to snap back to its place and for the bowed wood to return to its original shape. Legolas allowed his head to move forward, his cheek coming to rest of his wrist bone as his right eye fell naturally into line with the shaft. He could see the perfectly straight line of the arrow, the slightly rounded base of the tip before it fell away to a razor sharp point, and the dead centre of the target - all that he would ever need to see.
His movements were so slow and yet so rehearsed, showing his need to fell grounded to something. Larnfield, Estel, the bounty on his head. Within merely the last two nights his known world had abandoned him, leaving him stranded, completely lost and feeling utterly vulnerable and out of control. He needed familiarity, to feel that he was apart of something and that despite all that had transpired, there were still things that he was wholly in control of. For someone like himself, someone whose entire life revolved around his knowledge that he could trust his actions and that his thoughts were stable and sound, his current situation seemed like a harsh slap in the face before being disarmed and shoved to the ground in submission. He could not trust his actions since he was unable to hold confidence in his thoughts; not while they all spoke of apprehension and, strangely enough, Estel. Everything that he was sure he had been had just turned away from him, the unknown uprooting itself from the deepest recesses of his being and strangling all that he held to faith like ivy to a tree. In short, it was the most unnerving thing that he had ever encountered.
Finally uncurling his fingers, Legolas allowed the string of his bow to snap back to place, releasing the built up tension and with that the arrow. The shaft flew with a speed and grace that even struck the Elf as being astounding before burring it head deep into the center of the wooden target, a hair breadth from the last that he had fired.
"You are an excellent shot," a voice noted as a figure walked into the clearing, actually causing the Elf to startle ever so slightly.
Gulping to hide his shock, Legolas once again found his mind seemingly lost within the unusual realms of self-doubt and trepidation. How in Valar's name had that pathetic human been able to sneak up on him? Normally Legolas would have heard him, if not sensed him coming from nigh on a mile away.
Intent on banishing all such thoughts from his head, Legolas pulled another arrow from his quiver and focused his eyes upon the target ahead as he repeated his last actions, feeling his body react to the natural flow of the movements.
"What?" Legolas asked with a little laugh, not even looking to the human in acknowledgment, "you did not receive your fill yesterday? Back for another altercation of tempered words?" Letting the arrow fly, Legolas could tell that Estel was watching the target, waiting to see where it hit. He on the other hand, found himself interested in only one thing: getting rid of the human that had once again disturbed his peace. "For if that is the case, you may as well save yourself the aggravation of trying and just leave, for I shall not apply myself to such a folly cause again."
As only Legolas would have predicted, the arrow nestled itself neatly within the tiny gap that once existed between the first two that he had fired.
Smirking softly at the amazed look that passed over the human's face, Legolas busied himself with drawing another arrow and checking the fletching while waiting for the man to leave.
"Actually," Estel said off-handedly, his eyes still glued to the proof of Legolas' deadly accuracy, "I came in hopes of amending what was spoken last night."
Legolas could have cried; could have shouted out his annoyance and anger into the otherwise unoccupied clearing. When would the human ever give up? Why did he seem to find it impossible to see that nothing would ever happen between them and that Legolas preferred that they kept this riff between them?
Estel's eyes switched from the target to the Elf, an action that Legolas was all too aware of. Still looking at the flawless fletching of his arrow as if there was something seriously wrong with it, Legolas tried to put some of his feelings into words, finding that with each passing second it was harder and harder to do.
Opting for silence, the Prince of Mirkwood merely settled for fitting the arrow that he had been looking at so intently to his string, allowing his next movements to come from the practiced steps that seemed like a permanent etching upon his mind.
"Come now, Legolas. You cannot just not speak to me," Estel half implored, his eyes roaming over the form of the Elf as he slipped so easily into his firing stance.
"Watch me!" the Elf spat out as he released his arrow, his blood starting to boil due to the presence of the arrogant man that crowed his space.
Watching the shaft fly, Estel jumped slightly when one of the other arrows practically burst into splinters as the razor-sharp steel tip split it straight down the middle. Having grown up with Elves, Estel was past the point of believing that nothing could shock him anymore - well, that was until the display that he had just witnessed. Not even Elrohir, rendered the best marksmen in Rivendell could split one of his arrows in half with such ease as Legolas had exhibited.
When the soft sound of Estel's gasp reached Legolas, the Elf merely turned and smirked at the human, his left eyebrow arched in both a sinister mock and disparagement. Seeing that he had in fact successfully shocked the man into silence, Legolas slipped his bow over his back and made ready to leave, not intending to spend any more time in the clearing with the infuriating human then was needed.
"Spar with me?" The question caught Legolas completely by surprise, stopping him dead in his tracks, his eyebrows quirked in a mixture of utter disbelief and inclusive annoyance. Once the moment passed and the human asked yet again, this time sounding a little more confident, Legolas' upper lip curled up as he replayed the question over in his head, still not believing what he had heard.
"Please?"
Rolling his eyes and biting gently at his tongue, Legolas looked over his shoulder, seeking out eye contact with the human before answering him with a resounding, "No."
"No?" Estel echoed, this time it being his turn to show shock as his face lit up with questioning. Taking a careful step forward, he looked the Elf right in the eyes as he continued, "do not tell me that you have not longed to put me in my place. To show yourself as my better."
Not to be taken in such a way, Legolas merely offered the human a patronizing smile as he turned to fully face the man. "That statement alone proves that I need not trouble myself. You already know what is in my heart in regards to such a matter, just as you know what the outcome of the sparring session would be. So why should I put myself through the bother?"
"Why, for the challenge, of course," Estel offered as if it were the most obviously clear thing in the world.
"And here I was thinking that you were the one that was simply in it for the challenge," Legolas retorted, his words standing to describe more then just the issued contest.
From the smile that spread across Estel's face, Legolas could tell that he took the meaning of his words. "Indeed, I have always loved a good challenge..." Estel mused as he looked the Elf quickly up and down, an action that made Legolas' blood boil with contempt.
His anger working against him, Legolas found that no matter how he tried he could not get his body to comply with what he knew was right, and so instead of turning away as he knew he should, he found himself slipped his bow from his shoulder and casting it to the ground.
"Fine!" Legolas acknowledged defeat, his eyes flashing ice-cold as he turned to face the young human.
Watching the man intently, Legolas just stood still as a statue, his eyes and the subtle rise and fall of his chest being the only parts of him that remained animated; that seemed alive. Even his hair, normally quick to catch in even the slightest wind remained hanging loosely over his shoulders, the fine strands never venturing out into the air around him.
Estel reached for the sword that hung by his left hip, his hand pausing in its action as his fingers curled around the leather wrapped hilt. Both just stood there, Estel clutching at his weapon and Legolas merely with his hands by his sides, glaring each other down and trying to foresee the others actions. The clearing that they stood in appeared to halt its very existence, stilling so that its entire concentration was focused at the two beings that stood face to face, resentment and uncertainty hanging heavily in the cool air.
Then, like the rapid swelling of the incoming tide upon a sandy shore, the world came whirling into action and back into perspective.
Estel's knuckles flexed ever so slightly, the tiny and almost undetectable movement being all that the highly trained Elf needed to know exactly what was going to happen and how.
Given the chance, Estel would have drawn his blade quickly, pulling it high and, by the way in which his left foot had subtly buried itself into the earth, he would have spun to his right, trying to come in under whatever defense the Elf invented.
Instead, with Legolas having seen the man's intentions as clearly as if he had simply told the Elf what he was about to do, Estel found his sword being kicked forcefully from his hand as soon as it was free of the scabbard. Before the blade even had the time to hit the ground, Legolas had reached over his shoulders, grabbed his two bow-knives and brought them forward, spinning them skillfully over his knuckles as he closed the gap between them with a small step. Within an instant he had a blade pressing against either side of the human's throat, his slender wrists crossed in an automatic reaction which supplied him an easy scissor motion in order to sever the head if need be.
Grey eyes locked with icy-blue ones, the latter issuing an inimitable challenge as a darkened eyebrow rose in complacency.
"Do you yield?" Legolas asked with a small smirk, making the way in which he eyed the position of his daggers painfully apparent.
Attempting to keep his face as schooled as possible, Estel took a small step back, bowing his head to the Elf in a respectable form of submission and admittance to the fact that he had been defeated.
Once the human's throat disappeared from between his two daggers, Legolas casually spun them over his hands again as he brought his arms down, dropping them by his sides and allowing his grip to slacken slightly.
"Well done," Estel said as he crouched down to grab his sword. One knee pressing into the dirt, he closed both hands around the grip of his weapon and looked up at the Elf almost innocently. "But I am not yet ready to yield!" The last word was emphasized by a quick and forceful sweep at the Elf's feet with the length of the man's blade.
Eyes widening, Legolas only just had time to jump into the air, seeing the flat of the sword whoosh harmlessly through the very place that Legolas' legs had just been. As Legolas landed lightly upon the ground, Estel found himself leaning to his left in a way to counter the shifting weight of the blade as it swung to his right. A well placed tap of Legolas' boot, hitting the man on the top of his left shoulder, saw Estel lose his balance completely and topple over.
Using the tip of his sword to keep him upright and bracing his body with his right hand, Estel recovered faster then Legolas would have expected of any normal human. Within a moment the man had pushed himself to his feet, his temporary lost of control all but forgotten as he took yet another swing at the Elf.
The stroke aimed for the Elf's midriff, forcing Legolas to fold in the middle, his upper body bending as he breathed in, keeping his stomach just out of reach of the blade.
To say that Estel was impressed would have been an understatement. He had long been sparring with the best Elves in Rivendell, and, on occasion, he had even participated in tournaments which were open to all the Elven lands, but never ever had he seen such a versatile Elf. Even Elrohir or Elladan could not compare with the Mirkwood Prince, this being a thought that made Estel secretively wonder why the blond had never competed in any of the contests.
Easily dodging out of the way of the swing, Legolas waited until the sword passed out of harms way before he threw himself into the moment once again. Leaning over further, he expertly balanced his weight, his arms stretching out behind him to give him more breadth and to keep him upright. With practiced skill, Legolas sent his right leg flying out behind him and, as he lent over even further, brought the flexible limb over his shoulder to hit the man square in the chin.
Utterly dazed and not quite comprehending the extent of the move the Elf just pulled, Estel stumbled back, his hand flying to his jaw as he openly gaped at Legolas as he righted himself. The Elf seemed unfazed, as if such a movement was an everyday thing for him, and, before Estel had time to lace all his thoughts into a coherent order, Legolas was coming at him again.
A flash of silver was all the warning the human had as one of Legolas' blades sliced through the air, dangerously close to the man's nose. Ducking and rolling out of the way, Estel attacked the Elf from the side, keeping his thrusts both fast and forceful in hopes of hindering the Prince's ability to turn and face him.
His tactic was short lived however, especially when the Elf surprised him once again by dodging his attack in the strangest of ways.
Seeing that Estel was not about to give up anytime soon, Legolas decided that it was high time he called upon a few of his more original moves and hopefully scare the human off that way. With the man attacking from his side, Legolas knew that Estel would expect him to turn and face him, at which time Estel would try to swoop under Legolas' defense as he turned and catch him that way. Yet that was a scenario that Legolas did not plan to have any part in.
Instead he simply threw his weight backwards, lifted his arms and clutched tighter at his twin blades. Springing off the ground with his toes, he easily felt his body falling into the natural routine of a back-flip, only this time he was prepared for something a little different as he thrust the tips of his blades towards the ground.
The blades dug deeply into the soil as Legolas threw his weight back. A small flex of his arms saw his body follow its original path, right over the embedded knives as if he merely completing a normal flip. As his feet passed his center of balance, Legolas wrenched the blades free of the earth, successfully having them free before his boots touched the ground.
The human, still amazed at what the Elven prince had just done, was caught completely off guard and Legolas raced at him, his blades up as he dealt blow after blow upon the man's sword. Legolas' arms seemed to move of their own accord, gaining speed with each and every thrust and power with each stroke. Ground was stolen out from underneath the human's feet as he was forced backwards, the mere intensity of the Elf's attacks enough to send him wheeling back, not to mention the swiftness in which the Elf attacked. Estel was hard pressed seeing Legolas' arms moving, let alone the blows and where they were aimed.
He felt trapped. As if he were locked on the inside and looking out through someone else's eyes as he forcefully drove the human back. It was deeper then usual, the pull and need stronger then anything he had ever experienced before. For so long it had been a granted that he fought to kill, that he was trained to take life with as little effort as possible and that he was to be unrelenting. And yet he could not kill Estel, he knew that and it was the only reason that he tried to fight against that desperate urge to finish the man off as quickly as probable. Yet that was not the entire situation. He always trusted himself; always put his faith and his life in that force that drove him on and ever closer to the kill, and yet this time it felt as if it were not actually him. As if he were a stranger on the inside, looking out at this practically unstoppable killing machine. It was odd, alien to him and, as much as he tried not to admit it, it scared him beyond belief.
Finally nicking at the underside of Estel's hand, all thoughts of 'sparring' scattered into the wind, Legolas saw to it that Estel released his blade. Using one of his own knives to clip the sword, the Elf sent it up into the air at the same time that he threw his right blade into the ground behind him. Thrusting his left bow-knife at the human's throat, Legolas easily caught Estel's sword as it fell. He drew his right arm back at the elbow, bringing the tip of the man's sword in line with the tip of his dagger and, keeping the weapons trailing on the human, stalked towards Estel with deadly grace. With each step the tips of the two blades threatened to prick Estel's skin, Legolas driving forward with eyes so darkly clouded that Estel actually found it wise to retreat.
"Do you yield?" Legolas demanded, his voice as fierce as the fire that burnt behind his usually emotionless eyes.
He was just tense, he told himself as he backed the human towards the ring of trees. Larnfield still played upon his mind, his shoulder ached, Estel had done naught but irritate him, the discovery of the substantial price on his head and the fact that he had not taken any rest in numerous days were all just taking their toll. He had no reason to fear that which he should embrace. He relished in this feeling of power, in the fact that he knew, even when Estel had started to fight back, that he would win. He lived for it; loved it. He did not fear it for such a thought was preposterous!
Nodding his compliance, Estel clenched his jaw tight, not entirely sure he liked this situation at all. He could see something within the Elf, hidden deep under that raging fire, which he could not place. Fear? Uncertainty? It was something that did not belong, that did not make sense to be seen in such a fair being, let along in one with as much spark as Legolas. Perhaps the Elf truly was not all that he seemed.
"I yield," Estel said, much more smoothly then he thought possible.
As soon as he had spoken the words it was as if a physical mask lifted off the Elf's face. The fire was quenched, his eyes once again that seemingly bottomless pool of ice-cold water and his face again at ease, the tightness and hint of something wilder all but lost as the refined and beautiful Prince of Mirkwood returned. Legolas almost looked startled; scared as he seemed to take in the sight before his eyes as if for the first time. It appeared as if he had been elsewhere during the battle, caught up in the world that would not permit Estel access and yet a world that the Elf was not entirely free to move about in as he pleased. He almost looked disgusted with the way that he held Estel's sword and his own knife, and, with little more then a moment having past, he rearranged his grip on the blade and threw the sword tip first into the ground as if it were a vulgar object akin to an Orc blade.
"Good," was the only word that he said as the Elf turned on his heels and stalked towards his discarded bow-knife. Kicking at the dirt just in front of the blade, he sent the dagger flying into the air where he easily caught it before placing it and its twin back into the sheaths strapped to his back. Grabbing up his bow, Legolas did not even look about the clearing as he swiftly exited, walking quickly out of Estel's vision for the third time in two days.
*****
To be continued...
*****
Next chapter preview:
Running swiftly across the lawn, Legolas was little more then a smudge upon the darkened grass and a fleeting silhouette mingling with the shadows of the tall house. As soon as he reached the wall of the separate kitchen, he flattened his back against the cool stone despite the fact that there was no sign of any guards or resistance. It was just a matter of old habits refusing to be overruled within the heat of the moment.
Later on:
Then there was the fact that as strong as Legolas wanted to make himself seem, even he had his limits, his boundaries - his breaking point - and, if the way his entire body shook with each movement, the way he found it difficult to do up the ties of the bag and the way that his head did not lift were signs that could be trusted, he was treacherously close to stepping over that dangerous line. Of passing that point of no return.
*****
Replies to reviews: (beware of the length...)
Eddie Uwnhai" LOL! It is always so interesting to see all the moronic mistakes that I make and never even pick up on! So, as usual, thank you for your help!
Aislynn Crowdaughter: Oh, I want Estel to be clumsy - where is the fun if he is some smooth talker that can win our homicidal Elf over with a mere word? He needs to screw up a few (many) times as it makes it more enjoyable for me (who does not like him) and actually is the thing that creates the basis of the story. I am glad you like it, but expect a lot of problems as they go...
Rabbit of Iron: *wonders about your sanity....* LOL! The chin-fuck comment, well, I guess I should have explained that. It is really simple really, nothing gross (such as your thought...) or kinky of anything. Just came about when I was talking about him with this guy I know and I could not remember his name...so I was there pressing my finger into my chin to try and recreate his monged dimple thing and the guy was like 'chin- fuck..oh Aragorn!' That's it, nothing too great, but yes, 'chin-fuck' or 'Arafuck'... I hope it is getting better as we go, else I am in trouble! Lol. And yes, as you just saw, Legolas kicked Arafuck's arse! *waves goodbye*
Ihni (both reviews) Oh, he is taking FAR too much for granted. And, may I just ask, who said anything about Legolas 'falling in love with him'? I mean, this is me. ME!!! have a hope, my dear friend, have a hope.
Lol, like I said, the whole "that has never happened" thing never crossed my mind. Of course it has never happened else he would not be there arguing with Erestor about it in the first place! Must have been one of those not-so-rare moronic moments! Lol.
*Gags over the falling for each other in fluff and pastels* Please! This is me, as I said. The day that they fall for each other in fluff and pastels will be the day that I write a story about them holding hands and singing as they skip happily through the daises - and they will be singing a Britney Spears song!
...so yes, do not worry about that as it will NEVER happen! And yes, hostility is the only way to go - also (normally) gets rid of a lot of hindrances! Legolas talking to himself is a reflection of both of us and the fact we say it is healthy. I was looking for a way to make that a little more comical, so I decided to do what I would do and make him talk/yell at himself! Lol.
Oh, I know what you mean about the school comment - 'tis horrible. But yes, poor Legolas...*eyes light up* it was fun to watch, wasn't it? *pokes you until you agree* And yes, I am learning, but I hope you realize just how hard this actually is!
Kael Kalespel: Oh, it is, isn't it. In fact, such a thought is utterly delightful! Thank you, thank you, thank you! *once again does Jack Sparrow style bows* and when will Legolas realize...well, if I told you that I would have to kill you...seriously! LOL!
I have worked out that Estel is like a stray dog...you feed it once and it keeps coming back even if you kick it...LOL. So yes, he is not about to give up after the little make-out session in the garden. And yes, he has his moments of perception...and then he has his moments of pure stupidity...LOL!
Tracy: *Smiles* I am glad that you can also picture Legolas with that bitchy look on his face - don't you think it suits him? 'Tis very condescending and scornful and yet at the same time I can so picture him just going 'dar!' Female influence? Ok, now I am just confused? Which female are you speaking of here? I normally make a point of keeping females out of my stories for a number of reasons. One, I can't write them (ok, I know that sounds odd considering that I am a girl and all, but I just can't) and two, I do not want to run the risk of creating the spawn of some-evil-god aka a Mary-Sue. Would fall upon my own blade before I created a Mary-Sue, and for that matter, most of the characters that I create will all be guys. So much easier to handle!
Iara: 'A little feisty'? LOL! Ah, but it is so much fun to make them fight! I am happy you like it, and thank you for the review!
Tainted Fortune: Favorite story? *is torn between feeling deeply honored or suggesting that you read some of the other wonderful fics out there which far surpass this poor excuse* Yay! I was worried that the little touches of humor would not be noticed, but it makes me feel better knowing that you saw it. The dinner scene was fun - the way he was so bored and actually showing it for once. Fun to write! I want to show that beneath that nasty, murderous and homicidal exterior there is a little bit of fun and innocence left in him, and that shall only be further elaborated upon as we go... but I hope you liked this chapter and I shall see you again next week!
whispers of an angel: Legolas is a bitch! LOL! But yes, he is mean, but that is the way that he had kept himself alive for so long... not that I feel sorry for Estel or anything, personally, I think Legolas should just kill him and move on...but they won't let me *glares at evil muses*
ivorybrowneyes: You are sick? *hands up over the blanket she stole from Elrohir, the herbal tea she pinched from Aragorn and Legolas' fluffy pillow that she ran off with last time she tried to tie him to his bed...* thank you for your review and I sincerely hope this finds you feeling better.
Analia: *Offers you a big smile* Were you forming images of Legolas' bed? Or Legolas *in* the bed...or Legolas *naked* in the bed, or was it Legolas *tied* to the bed... *slaps self out of sadistic daydreams*
I am glad you like his musings, and even gladder (is that even English?) that you believe I can do them well. Thank you for the compliment, although I tend to steer clear of too many musing as: one, I have too many thoughts myself, two, I can never distinguish when mine end and a characters' begin, and three, all of them are such a mess that I fear they shall not sound right. But yes, I have this thing for planning out something and then laughing evilly in the face of the characters as I make them do something else, which, on a whole, is much less entertaining for them! *cackles*
It does? Hi voice sounds like Frodo's? Ok, I so have to investigate this *pulls out popcorn, FotR DVD and the RotK trailer* Lol, but yes, the trailer was cool, and the Elf in the hood! Screw the bloody movie, just see it for the Elf in the hood! Lol, oh, and the prospect of sadistic enjoyment when you see Legolas surrounded by the Orcs...
Strangely enough, even I am unsure of why Legolas has pain in his shoulders... I needed something to put in there and then it just sort of continued on...knowing me I shall make something out of it that will not make sense and will be entirely over done, but it is worth a try! Lol. Legolas' steps being heavier - well, when I read over it again didn't make sense to me, so you are right. It was meant to be him stomping off, but "Legolas stomped off" sounded so...tacky and un-Elf like so I did it that way which didn't work either...
I am sorry that you suffer during the week; that was not my intention, it is just that there is no HUMANLY POSSIBLY way that I can update this every couple of days. As it was, I was hard pressed getting this chapter up on time. So please, invest in a stress ball or nail harder to help you stop any anxious habits!
AHHHHHHH!!!!! *claws at eyes* PLEASE!?!?! No thoughts of Arafuck and Legolas having wild monkey sex...I am far too innocent for such thoughts... HA! ...sorry...
Not having a point good. I mean look, I have just typed 414 words which have no point in reply to your review which had no point. To have no point not only leaves you open to the notion that you may create one, but it also is a great conversation starter! See look, none of that had a point, but it both filled in the time and actually made me think...LOL. Seriously now, thank you for the review and for the complements and I hope this finds you well!
Sirithiliel: For the majority of the story, it is going to be this 'I hate you, get the fuck away from me' relationship, so rest assured. After that, remember that I am not a huge slash fan myself, so do not expect anything over the top or graphic or anything like that. And oh, you got your wish - Legolas hurt him. actually, that entire battle scene was added in at the last minute - it was meant to be a short chapter with only his conversation with Rolf, but your review gave me the idea so I kinda changed quite a few things... Lol, so thank you!
CareLess: *Meows back at you while doing moronic clawing action with her hand* Thank you! Though I am sure that you would not believe how many people have informed me that I am far too sarcastic for my own good - it seems to be a 'S' thing with me: sarcasm, sadism and stupidity! Oh, and Estel being one of the assassins hunting Legolas? I think someone else has already asked that and I gave them one of my 'trying-to-be-cryptic' answers that did naught but make no sense! Lol. In other words, I am going to leave you hanging on that one and get back to you later... and oh, hurt him anyway, I don't like him! *hands you swords, whips, thumbscrews and other such implements*
Silvertoekee: *Grins hugely* I am so glad that you liked the 'lovers spat'. And yes, the future screams of the prospect of more arguments...or then, it might not...but t could (ok, that was me trying to keep you in suspense and failing miserably! LOL!) Legolas seems good with the denial thing - it suits him... And his problems? Well, I am starting to think that he will never figure them all out - there are just too many of them! Thank you kindly for letting me know what you thought!
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All right, that was long... sorry about that people. Anyway, I hope to see you all next week,
Minka.
Enjoy!
*****
The Thrill of the Chase
Chapter Six
The Stranger Within
*****
Legolas felt as if he were about to explode. His blood had heated, his face burned, and his hands were clenched into such tight fists that even his short fingernails had the capability of digging into his skin. He felt as if he were trapped, as if the walls were closing in on him as he stormed down the long corridors of the main house of Rivendell. Paintings leered and watched his every move, stones laughed and the very air seemed to whisper taunts of such a kind that Legolas wanted to cover his delicate ears and never hear again.
He did not like Estel! He was not upset about hurting his feelings and he was incredibility angry about what happened in the garden: not at all pleased! He did not care what the walls sort to tell him nor for the way in which the portraits winked at him in a suggestive manner...what did they know anyway?
By the time the Elven Prince reached the door to his room he was thoroughly convinced that he was going insane, that he had a headache and that if his surroundings did not stop taunting him he was going to give them an earful.
His room greeted him with blissful silence, the walls within opting to offer the prince relief instead of more false accusations and the darkness shrouding anything that may feel the need or want to sneer at him with absurd suggestions.
A single candle stood burning near the door, having obviously been lit by one of the housekeepers at the setting of the sun. With a wistful sigh, Legolas lent down and picked it up, mindful of the wax which threatened to run down the long pillar and coat his hands. He moved slowly about his room, knowing full well where everything was and yet not having the energy or the will to make his way across the room in his normal swift pace. He was just longing for sleep, to be able to completely unwind and allow his mind to clear of everything. Of the past nights activities, of any and all thoughts of Estel and especially of the irritating need to be forever proper and respectable; the dignified Prince of Mirkwood.
Reaching the table by the edge of his bed, he angled the candle that he carried down slightly and lit the tall pillar that sat on the polished surface. As soon as the wick caught alight the room was transformed from a collection of dark shapes into recognizable objects, the oranges, yellows and reds of the candle light casting a soft glow over everything as the small flame flickered up and around the wick. The light was soothing, reliving. Unlike the strong and bright glow of the dinning halls, the two candles helped to put Legolas at ease with the way in which their light danced with the darkness which had previously claimed the room for its own, their intricate steps reflected upon the pale walls and making the paint glow like the moon.
A soft clunk resounded around the room as he placed the first candle over on the chest near his bed and grabbed the nightclothes that lay folded on the corner. A soft clunk that was closely followed by another...one which was not of Legolas' doing.
Attention soaring, all thoughts of the peaceful appearance of his chambers banished from his mind, Legolas listened intently to the tiniest sounds around him as he pulled his garments into his arms. Slowly walking towards the wash room in the same manner that he had across his room before, he made sure that naught about his actions portrayed his awareness, even as his senses suddenly pricked up at a faint sound.
An exhale of breath.
Acting as if he had not heard it, Legolas kept his eyes towards the washroom and his steps deliberately slow and lethargic while all the while focusing in on where the sound had come from.
The right side of the room...the back corner...the second window...the curtain!
His senses had already confirmed that it was not just a small gust of wind and the strange feeling of being watched had already kicked in. Perhaps he had not been insane when he had felt as if the painting were watching him in the hallways.
With all the grace of an exhausted prince, Legolas placed his clothes down on a stool in the washroom whilst subtly pulling a curved dagger from his boot. Flicking his wrist, he sent the blade parallel to his arm, hiding it behind his armguard while still keeping a deadly hold on the soft leather bound handle.
Muttering something softly to himself about it being drafty, he crossed the room to the window in fluent, silent steps, not allowing his attention to roam to the curtain even once else risking the chance of the intruder noticing. Pulling the window shutter closed, Legolas tightened his grip on the dagger and, in one swift movement, slammed the window and ripped back the curtain. Grasping the shadow that lurked there, the prince hauled the gasping being out into the light of the room and pressed his blade under the person's neck. His other arm wrapping around the figures upper body, he pushed the stranger closer into the knife as he placed a foot behind those of his intruder, keeping him in a tight position and allowing him to easily trip the foreigner if need be.
"Easy," the captive said while trying to back away slightly, only succeeding in hitting into Legolas' foot and being knocked off balance.
Having half a heart to just drop the man, having automatically recognized the voice, Legolas sighed as he retracted the dagger from the human's throat and stood back, pulling the man to poise as he did so.
"Thank you," the other muttered as he self-consciously started to straighten up the front of his dark tunic, "you were always so warm on the welcoming aspect! What? Are you not happy to see your good old friend?"
"Shh!" Legolas hissed at the man, even the way that he simply hissed coming out as a threat. "Remind me of the day that I have ever been happy to see you, Rolf!" Legolas whispered as he slotted the dagger back into his boot. "How did you get in here anyway?" Legolas continued suspiciously as he hurried over to the main door of his room. Silently turning the handle, Legolas pulled the door open and poked his head through the small slit, looking down both ends of the corridor. He was not willing to go taking any chances with anyone overhearing the conversation, let alone run the risk of some poor Elf thinking that he may need assistance. The last thing that he needed was for someone to come barging through that door to catch any scraps of speech and find a stranger of Rivendell making himself at home in the Prince's chambers.
Satisfied that there was no one, namely Estel, creeping about outside his quarters, Legolas turned his attention back on the human that stood patiently across the room, regarding him with unhidden curiosity.
"Now, now," Rolf chided with a small laugh, "you know that I never reveal my secrets, Legolas. It is what keeps me ahead in the race, you see!"
Scoffing to himself, his eyes rolling on their own accord and his head turning away from the human for a moment, Legolas once again looked to the flickering candle that stood by his bed...his comfy, soft, warm bed that would help to clear his mind...
"Fine," Legolas sighed, not wanting this to carry on for any great length of time as it took away from the sleep that he so desperately needed. "I do not think that I want to know anyway. But new question, *what in Valar's name are you doing here*?" he hissed out angrily, the candle light dancing across his narrowed eyes and plunging the hollows of his face into darkness.
"Well it is nice to see you to, Legolas," Rolf spat out sarcastically, "how are you? Life treating you well? Me? Why, I am fine, thanks for asking! 'Tis so kind of you to do so!"
"Rolf!"
"Always so proper. Never any niceties or inviting me around for drinks and to meet your friends..." Rolf continued, knowing that with each word he spoke he was testing Legolas' patience even further. Indeed it was a dangerous thing to do, but he was always one that liked to 'flirt with danger' as he so put it. "I do not hear from you, you never write let alone pop in and say 'hello'! My cousin Marten had a child by the way. Well, he did not, but Lucinda did - you know what I mean!"
Legolas' face just crumbled, his tightly drawn mouth dropping to the point of hanging slightly open as his eyes rolled back into his head which fell forward while his shoulders dropping painfully. Skulking over to the bed, he dropped unceremoniously onto the end and buried his head in his hands, cursing the Valar yet again for sending him far too many annoying acquaintances.
He already knew that there was no point in protesting, no chance this side of Mordor that he would be able to get the man to stop talking, that is, not unless he killed him, and given the circumstances that was not a good idea. One, a human body found murdered in Rivendell would do no good and would likely spark conflict with the surrounding towns, something that the Elves did not need. Two, killing him would be bound to be messy and, not only did Legolas not want to have to clean up after the act, he had the sneaking suspicion that Rolf would somehow still be able to talk even without a head. And lastly, as much as he hated to admit it, he needed Rolf. This upstart of a human was his contact, his 'pimp' as Rolf liked to call himself, though Legolas had no clue what the word actually meant. In fact, he was pretty much convinced that Rolf had either made the word up or had no knowledge of the meaning himself. All Legolas knew was that Rolf was the one that brought his clients to him. With his status, Legolas could not simply go walking into a known hideout of less then respectable beings and just hope not to be seen, so that was were Rolf would come into it. As someone who had grown up around those types of people, he was the perfect person to hear of future jobs and, in some cases give those doing the conspiring the needed push to put their thoughts into actions. He would then arrange a meeting place and a date which he would pass onto Legolas, who would meet with the client and find out the finer details. The rest was then up to Legolas and the conspirator though of course Rolf received his cut of the reward. While he did not need the types of Rolf to help him with the actual job, he would be lost without the boy to actually get him the job in the first place, and, given his occasionally homicidal urges, Legolas was not entirely sure if he was ready to get rid of Rolf quite yet...
"...Lovely baby boy, he is. Dark hair, grey eyes, overly bold - you would like him!"
The last part of Rolf's babbling caught Legolas' attention, the sly tones of his voice bringing Legolas' head snapping up to glare at the human.
"What did you say?" the Elf demanded of the smirking man. It was not that he really needed the man's speech repeated for it was merely a reaction to the way in which the others voice dripped with suggestion. Well, that and the fact that Legolas knew all too well what it was that he was suggesting.
"Resembles that dashing, though rather audacious, young fellow that you were making eyes with - well, tongue with in the garden earlier today..."
"WHA-"
"Now, now Legolas, do not go losing your temper with me like you did him. You know it will get you nowhere as, unlike him, your fiery personality will not attract me, but shall turn me away." Offering the startled Elf one of his best and biggest smiles, Rolf turned his attention from the other and started to pace around slowly. "Now, where was I? Oh yes, you know it would be polite if you would came and offer your thanks once in awhile, meet my family...though, then again, if I had such a passionate secret relationship with such a great kisser then I..."
"We are not together!" Legolas protested in anguish, the mere idea turning his insides and making him almost woozy. Glaring up at the man, he saw him nod his head in forged understanding as he winked repetitively at the Elf.
"Of course not..." Rolf's eyes lit up, his hand moving to cover the base of his collar bone as he let out a dreamy sigh. "Your secret is safe with me!" he mouthed over to the stunned Elf.
"No! I mean it! I hate him!"
"Of course you do!" Legolas wanted nothing more then to beat that patronizing tone out of the man's voice...well, that and wipe that half dreamy, half jealous look from his face.
"Rolf! Listen to me!" the Elf said slowly, sounding out ever syllable as if he were teaching a small child to pronounce a word correctly, "I. Do. Not. Like. Him! I do not even *know* him!"
At that Rolf's face fell and his posture slumped as a wistful look full of longing overtook his features. "Oh, what I would not give to be in one of those relationships," he sighed out as he looked upon the Elf with jealousy, "knowing people is so overrated anyway. As long as they can..."
"ROLF!" Legolas interjected before he found out far more then he ever wanted to know about the human. As it was they were treading dangerous ground. It was a personal rule of Legolas'; never get attached. You never know who is going to try and stab you in the back or which innocent will get hurt due to being associated with you.
"Rolf, please, cut to the chase. Why are you here?" Legolas asked, his patience finally worn out. Why should he care what Rolf thought he was up to anyway? Let him believe that he and Estel were involved in some great love affair; it was not like he had anyone to tell.
"Ah, see, I knew that you would ask that sooner or later." Rolf said with a big grin and with that same, almost insane tone of voice as he completely ignored Legolas who tried to point out that he had in fact asked the same question awhile ago. "I do in fact have another job for you - you are quite popular, you know! Guess we can all see why, especially if you treat people that you do not know like you did that young man..."
"He kissed me, not the other way around..." Legolas slipped in, knowing full well that Rolf was paying no heed to him whatsoever.
"That's nice," Rolf replied, though Legolas was sure he could have told Rolf that he resembled an Orc and he still would have received the same response. "But anyway, that...well, let just say that that is not the *real* reason for my coming all the way here! And it is an awfully long way, I will have you know!"
Waiting for Legolas to nod his understanding, Rolf then proceeded to make a show of reaching into his left breast pocket, imitating the sound of a drum roll with his tongue as he produced a folded sheet of paper.
"Da-da-dum. You should be proud!" he stated with a bow while handing the parchment over to the seated Elf. As Legolas' fingers closed around one corner, he found that the young man was unwilling to let the letter go and thus he was made to sit there, holding onto half the paper as Rolf continued to talk.
"Never before have the stakes been so high, let alone one of out humble few having been," he paused, his eyes rolling to the side and his lower lip disappearing between his teeth as he searched for the right word, "shall we say...nominated!"
Snatching the note from the other, Legolas inspected the weather worn parchment with a curious eye before slowly unfolding it. "Nominated?" he asked as he opened the last crease.
Eyes quickly scanning over the Westron words, Rolf could visibly see Legolas' face drain of all colour. His hands started to shake as his eyes expanded in a fashion that looked as if they were attempting to take over his entire face. Even the tips of his ears, normally a slight rosy-red went pale and, in his rumor entertained mind, Rolf imagined that if the Elf before him really wanted to, those points could flop in defeat, adding further visuals to his woe.
After a few moments of utter silence, the relative calm of the room was finally broken in a way that gave suggestion to the fact that all of Rivendell would now be awake...
"WHAT?"
*****
He had been pacing for almost an hour - back and forth, back and forth. To the window, to the washroom door and back again, pausing only to stare intently at the piece of paper, checking to see if his eyes were playing tricks on him, before scoffing and starting up again. The sheet of paper looked as if it were years and years old, it having been folded again and again while being turned around in the pacing Elf's hands.
Legolas was horrified to say the least. Granted that he was not scared, though he knew that he should be, he just seemed to have difficulty getting his head around the entire situation.
Who in Valar's name would put two thousand gold pieces on his head? Did they not know what they had done? Not only would he officially have every fool with a sword or pitchfork trying to get his head, he now ran the risk of someone seeing this. What if his father saw this, or Lord Elrond? Admittedly, it did not say his name or the fact that he was Elven royalty, or even the fact that he was an assassin, but the picture was real enough and, even someone with only half the normal senses would be able to tell that it was he. His picture with a reward of two thousand gold pieces written in large, bold writing was floating around in places that only the Valar knew. There was not even a contact listed! No time or place to claim the reward, making it all the more dangerous. He had no way of trying to backtrack the progress of the flyers, especially since Rolf had picked some random man's pocket only to chance upon this. He did not even know whom it was that he stole it from.
To say that this was not a good thing would have been the understatement of his lifetime!
"Now, contra to what you may be inclined to think," Rolf finally broke the silence, his index fingers raised in the air to state his point, "I did not come here to collect the reward - though I must say, two thousand gold pieces...my, my!"
"Shut up and let me think!" Legolas snapped at the human, his pacing still in full swing as he folded the paper back up again.
"Oh, I forgot that you can be a little testy sometimes," Rolf muttered to himself, his eyes drifting down to examine his nails.
"Rolf, let me make this simple for you," Legolas offered as he stopped right in front of the man, "I have a great disdain for your race and if you so much as make another sound, I promise that you shall have a first hand encounter with the product of my hatred!"
Rolf's eyes merely widened in shock and surprise at the Elf's threat, knowing full well that it was not wise to test Legolas' word. Annoying him was one thing, but when the Elf was in such a mood, even he saw the logic in either making himself scarce or being utterly silent in hopes of allowing the Elf to forget of his presence. Making a dramatic point of pressing his lips together and raising his hands in a form of compliancy, Rolf settled for sitting back in his chair and watching the Elf continue with his pacing. It was rather quite interesting if you looked at it in a certain light...
"Anyway," Rolf piped up after awhile, his courage returning - either that or it was desperation setting in due to the fact that he wanted to be gone as soon as possible. Legolas' constant pacing was starting to put him on edge. Normally the Elf was bursting with energy and unbridled excitement at the prospect of a new job. But this? This was just unnatural. His silence, his rhythm and the way in which he persisted to stare at the flyer actually placed a small smidgen of fear in Rolf's heart - fear that Legolas would suddenly just snap, that his anger would well up and that he would take it out on Rolf. Now that was something to be greatly feared...
"As I said, I have another job for you," Legolas' 'pimp' continued, "Real heart wrenching stuff, if you know what I mean. Son wants his old father and village overlord dead so that he can claim his estate and 'set things right within the village.' The way I hear it, the son lost all his money in a bet and thus needs a quick fix to save his head. So what better way to gain wealth quickly then by having your own father whacked in his sleep?"
"Charming," Legolas muttered to himself, his eyes still locked onto the reward poster as he continued his pacing.
Frowning at the Elf's actions and obvious disinterest, Rolf bit his lower lip and snuck across the room towards the small table. "Well, since you are all for listening to me at the moment," he said as he pulled a wad of paper from one of his pockets and snapped open the pot of ink on Legolas' desk, "I shall just write down everything that you need on this little piece of paper here and leave it for you to peruse at a later date. No meeting is necessary as the client wants it over and done with. So just do your thing and he will be waiting for you at...and you are not even listening to me. How nice!"
"Yaha," Legolas murmured, words now seeming to be placed in the same category as paying attention: non-existent.
"Well then, since we are on such a high note," Rolf said while slowly stepping backwards and towards the window, his hands raised in front of his body in defense, "I guess that I shall be going." He offered the Elf a small bow, touched his closed fist to his forehead, blew him a kiss and wiggled his fingers, his mind telling him to do whatever he could to get the hell out of that room before the Elf blew. "Have fun, enjoy life, kill the old guy and get as many of those 'I was not kissing him' kisses as you possibly can!"
With that he retreated out of the room and swung easily onto one of the closer tree branches, leaving the almost catatonic Elf to his pacing and thoughts.
*****
The utterly satisfying sound of wood splitting into wood resounded around the small clearing, taking some of the troubles from the anxious Elf. After Rolf's visit the night before, Legolas had naught in the way of sleep, his thoughts much too troubled to even allow his mind a moment's rest. The rest of the darkened hours were spent in contemplation. He had paced the night away, his hands folded behind his back and his head lowered as he walked circles around his bedroom. Even the time that he had spent on his balcony, looking out into the moon and firefly lit forests had done little to calm the speeding of his heart or silenced the questions that raced about his mind. In the end, he had resided himself to mindless pacing until the morning hours came, bringing with them a touch of slightly renewed concentration. He skipped breakfast, not wishing to be within the company of anyone with his present state of mind and had instead gone over and over the plans and notes that Rolf had given him, successfully formulating an unflawed line of attack for his next job.
He had decided, after thinking long and hard on it, to delay the assignment for another day or so, this conclusion reached due to a number of circumstances. For one, his mind was far to preoccupied to be trusted to be fully alert, clear and rational if faced with a difficult situation and two, his excuse for leaving would seem more believable if delayed for as long as possible. Legolas planned to inform Lord Elrond that he wished to travel the countryside of Rivendell and reacquaint himself with the wonders of the forest that he had not visited for many a year. The only problem with such an excuse was his claim to fatigue the night before. If he were to attempt to leave today and Erestor were to find out his plans, Legolas was more then sure that the advisor would do all within his power to keep the Prince in the city or worse, insist that Legolas be accompanied by an escort. It was needless to say that both instances were the worst case scenario and would only cause more problems then what the day's head start was worth.
Thus acquiescent to his fate, Legolas had turned his attention to a small clearing that he recalled from the days that he and Elrohir used to practice their bowmenship. He had been there for close to three hours and within that time there was hardly a moment when he bow left his hand. Draw, hold, release, fetch. Such a steady rhythm and unchallenged sequence of events did wonders with quenching both his anger and the hits of fear that ebbed at the corner of his conscience.
Left eye squinting only slightly, Legolas fluently drew one of the long, slender arrows from the quiver strapped to his back, gripping just above the fletching with curved fingers. The arrow slipped from the quiver with a move so smooth and quick that it was hard to see, and it was not until the notch at the top of the shaft surrounded the string that any onlooker could correctly conclude what was occurring. As Legolas pulled back on the string with his right arm, his elbow bent and stretched out to his side without so much as the slightest of muscle spasms as would be expected when drawing a bow of such strength and resilience. Feet apart, left in front and body sideways to the target, Legolas easily kept the string pulled back, defeating the constant need for the Elven-hair line to snap back to its place and for the bowed wood to return to its original shape. Legolas allowed his head to move forward, his cheek coming to rest of his wrist bone as his right eye fell naturally into line with the shaft. He could see the perfectly straight line of the arrow, the slightly rounded base of the tip before it fell away to a razor sharp point, and the dead centre of the target - all that he would ever need to see.
His movements were so slow and yet so rehearsed, showing his need to fell grounded to something. Larnfield, Estel, the bounty on his head. Within merely the last two nights his known world had abandoned him, leaving him stranded, completely lost and feeling utterly vulnerable and out of control. He needed familiarity, to feel that he was apart of something and that despite all that had transpired, there were still things that he was wholly in control of. For someone like himself, someone whose entire life revolved around his knowledge that he could trust his actions and that his thoughts were stable and sound, his current situation seemed like a harsh slap in the face before being disarmed and shoved to the ground in submission. He could not trust his actions since he was unable to hold confidence in his thoughts; not while they all spoke of apprehension and, strangely enough, Estel. Everything that he was sure he had been had just turned away from him, the unknown uprooting itself from the deepest recesses of his being and strangling all that he held to faith like ivy to a tree. In short, it was the most unnerving thing that he had ever encountered.
Finally uncurling his fingers, Legolas allowed the string of his bow to snap back to place, releasing the built up tension and with that the arrow. The shaft flew with a speed and grace that even struck the Elf as being astounding before burring it head deep into the center of the wooden target, a hair breadth from the last that he had fired.
"You are an excellent shot," a voice noted as a figure walked into the clearing, actually causing the Elf to startle ever so slightly.
Gulping to hide his shock, Legolas once again found his mind seemingly lost within the unusual realms of self-doubt and trepidation. How in Valar's name had that pathetic human been able to sneak up on him? Normally Legolas would have heard him, if not sensed him coming from nigh on a mile away.
Intent on banishing all such thoughts from his head, Legolas pulled another arrow from his quiver and focused his eyes upon the target ahead as he repeated his last actions, feeling his body react to the natural flow of the movements.
"What?" Legolas asked with a little laugh, not even looking to the human in acknowledgment, "you did not receive your fill yesterday? Back for another altercation of tempered words?" Letting the arrow fly, Legolas could tell that Estel was watching the target, waiting to see where it hit. He on the other hand, found himself interested in only one thing: getting rid of the human that had once again disturbed his peace. "For if that is the case, you may as well save yourself the aggravation of trying and just leave, for I shall not apply myself to such a folly cause again."
As only Legolas would have predicted, the arrow nestled itself neatly within the tiny gap that once existed between the first two that he had fired.
Smirking softly at the amazed look that passed over the human's face, Legolas busied himself with drawing another arrow and checking the fletching while waiting for the man to leave.
"Actually," Estel said off-handedly, his eyes still glued to the proof of Legolas' deadly accuracy, "I came in hopes of amending what was spoken last night."
Legolas could have cried; could have shouted out his annoyance and anger into the otherwise unoccupied clearing. When would the human ever give up? Why did he seem to find it impossible to see that nothing would ever happen between them and that Legolas preferred that they kept this riff between them?
Estel's eyes switched from the target to the Elf, an action that Legolas was all too aware of. Still looking at the flawless fletching of his arrow as if there was something seriously wrong with it, Legolas tried to put some of his feelings into words, finding that with each passing second it was harder and harder to do.
Opting for silence, the Prince of Mirkwood merely settled for fitting the arrow that he had been looking at so intently to his string, allowing his next movements to come from the practiced steps that seemed like a permanent etching upon his mind.
"Come now, Legolas. You cannot just not speak to me," Estel half implored, his eyes roaming over the form of the Elf as he slipped so easily into his firing stance.
"Watch me!" the Elf spat out as he released his arrow, his blood starting to boil due to the presence of the arrogant man that crowed his space.
Watching the shaft fly, Estel jumped slightly when one of the other arrows practically burst into splinters as the razor-sharp steel tip split it straight down the middle. Having grown up with Elves, Estel was past the point of believing that nothing could shock him anymore - well, that was until the display that he had just witnessed. Not even Elrohir, rendered the best marksmen in Rivendell could split one of his arrows in half with such ease as Legolas had exhibited.
When the soft sound of Estel's gasp reached Legolas, the Elf merely turned and smirked at the human, his left eyebrow arched in both a sinister mock and disparagement. Seeing that he had in fact successfully shocked the man into silence, Legolas slipped his bow over his back and made ready to leave, not intending to spend any more time in the clearing with the infuriating human then was needed.
"Spar with me?" The question caught Legolas completely by surprise, stopping him dead in his tracks, his eyebrows quirked in a mixture of utter disbelief and inclusive annoyance. Once the moment passed and the human asked yet again, this time sounding a little more confident, Legolas' upper lip curled up as he replayed the question over in his head, still not believing what he had heard.
"Please?"
Rolling his eyes and biting gently at his tongue, Legolas looked over his shoulder, seeking out eye contact with the human before answering him with a resounding, "No."
"No?" Estel echoed, this time it being his turn to show shock as his face lit up with questioning. Taking a careful step forward, he looked the Elf right in the eyes as he continued, "do not tell me that you have not longed to put me in my place. To show yourself as my better."
Not to be taken in such a way, Legolas merely offered the human a patronizing smile as he turned to fully face the man. "That statement alone proves that I need not trouble myself. You already know what is in my heart in regards to such a matter, just as you know what the outcome of the sparring session would be. So why should I put myself through the bother?"
"Why, for the challenge, of course," Estel offered as if it were the most obviously clear thing in the world.
"And here I was thinking that you were the one that was simply in it for the challenge," Legolas retorted, his words standing to describe more then just the issued contest.
From the smile that spread across Estel's face, Legolas could tell that he took the meaning of his words. "Indeed, I have always loved a good challenge..." Estel mused as he looked the Elf quickly up and down, an action that made Legolas' blood boil with contempt.
His anger working against him, Legolas found that no matter how he tried he could not get his body to comply with what he knew was right, and so instead of turning away as he knew he should, he found himself slipped his bow from his shoulder and casting it to the ground.
"Fine!" Legolas acknowledged defeat, his eyes flashing ice-cold as he turned to face the young human.
Watching the man intently, Legolas just stood still as a statue, his eyes and the subtle rise and fall of his chest being the only parts of him that remained animated; that seemed alive. Even his hair, normally quick to catch in even the slightest wind remained hanging loosely over his shoulders, the fine strands never venturing out into the air around him.
Estel reached for the sword that hung by his left hip, his hand pausing in its action as his fingers curled around the leather wrapped hilt. Both just stood there, Estel clutching at his weapon and Legolas merely with his hands by his sides, glaring each other down and trying to foresee the others actions. The clearing that they stood in appeared to halt its very existence, stilling so that its entire concentration was focused at the two beings that stood face to face, resentment and uncertainty hanging heavily in the cool air.
Then, like the rapid swelling of the incoming tide upon a sandy shore, the world came whirling into action and back into perspective.
Estel's knuckles flexed ever so slightly, the tiny and almost undetectable movement being all that the highly trained Elf needed to know exactly what was going to happen and how.
Given the chance, Estel would have drawn his blade quickly, pulling it high and, by the way in which his left foot had subtly buried itself into the earth, he would have spun to his right, trying to come in under whatever defense the Elf invented.
Instead, with Legolas having seen the man's intentions as clearly as if he had simply told the Elf what he was about to do, Estel found his sword being kicked forcefully from his hand as soon as it was free of the scabbard. Before the blade even had the time to hit the ground, Legolas had reached over his shoulders, grabbed his two bow-knives and brought them forward, spinning them skillfully over his knuckles as he closed the gap between them with a small step. Within an instant he had a blade pressing against either side of the human's throat, his slender wrists crossed in an automatic reaction which supplied him an easy scissor motion in order to sever the head if need be.
Grey eyes locked with icy-blue ones, the latter issuing an inimitable challenge as a darkened eyebrow rose in complacency.
"Do you yield?" Legolas asked with a small smirk, making the way in which he eyed the position of his daggers painfully apparent.
Attempting to keep his face as schooled as possible, Estel took a small step back, bowing his head to the Elf in a respectable form of submission and admittance to the fact that he had been defeated.
Once the human's throat disappeared from between his two daggers, Legolas casually spun them over his hands again as he brought his arms down, dropping them by his sides and allowing his grip to slacken slightly.
"Well done," Estel said as he crouched down to grab his sword. One knee pressing into the dirt, he closed both hands around the grip of his weapon and looked up at the Elf almost innocently. "But I am not yet ready to yield!" The last word was emphasized by a quick and forceful sweep at the Elf's feet with the length of the man's blade.
Eyes widening, Legolas only just had time to jump into the air, seeing the flat of the sword whoosh harmlessly through the very place that Legolas' legs had just been. As Legolas landed lightly upon the ground, Estel found himself leaning to his left in a way to counter the shifting weight of the blade as it swung to his right. A well placed tap of Legolas' boot, hitting the man on the top of his left shoulder, saw Estel lose his balance completely and topple over.
Using the tip of his sword to keep him upright and bracing his body with his right hand, Estel recovered faster then Legolas would have expected of any normal human. Within a moment the man had pushed himself to his feet, his temporary lost of control all but forgotten as he took yet another swing at the Elf.
The stroke aimed for the Elf's midriff, forcing Legolas to fold in the middle, his upper body bending as he breathed in, keeping his stomach just out of reach of the blade.
To say that Estel was impressed would have been an understatement. He had long been sparring with the best Elves in Rivendell, and, on occasion, he had even participated in tournaments which were open to all the Elven lands, but never ever had he seen such a versatile Elf. Even Elrohir or Elladan could not compare with the Mirkwood Prince, this being a thought that made Estel secretively wonder why the blond had never competed in any of the contests.
Easily dodging out of the way of the swing, Legolas waited until the sword passed out of harms way before he threw himself into the moment once again. Leaning over further, he expertly balanced his weight, his arms stretching out behind him to give him more breadth and to keep him upright. With practiced skill, Legolas sent his right leg flying out behind him and, as he lent over even further, brought the flexible limb over his shoulder to hit the man square in the chin.
Utterly dazed and not quite comprehending the extent of the move the Elf just pulled, Estel stumbled back, his hand flying to his jaw as he openly gaped at Legolas as he righted himself. The Elf seemed unfazed, as if such a movement was an everyday thing for him, and, before Estel had time to lace all his thoughts into a coherent order, Legolas was coming at him again.
A flash of silver was all the warning the human had as one of Legolas' blades sliced through the air, dangerously close to the man's nose. Ducking and rolling out of the way, Estel attacked the Elf from the side, keeping his thrusts both fast and forceful in hopes of hindering the Prince's ability to turn and face him.
His tactic was short lived however, especially when the Elf surprised him once again by dodging his attack in the strangest of ways.
Seeing that Estel was not about to give up anytime soon, Legolas decided that it was high time he called upon a few of his more original moves and hopefully scare the human off that way. With the man attacking from his side, Legolas knew that Estel would expect him to turn and face him, at which time Estel would try to swoop under Legolas' defense as he turned and catch him that way. Yet that was a scenario that Legolas did not plan to have any part in.
Instead he simply threw his weight backwards, lifted his arms and clutched tighter at his twin blades. Springing off the ground with his toes, he easily felt his body falling into the natural routine of a back-flip, only this time he was prepared for something a little different as he thrust the tips of his blades towards the ground.
The blades dug deeply into the soil as Legolas threw his weight back. A small flex of his arms saw his body follow its original path, right over the embedded knives as if he merely completing a normal flip. As his feet passed his center of balance, Legolas wrenched the blades free of the earth, successfully having them free before his boots touched the ground.
The human, still amazed at what the Elven prince had just done, was caught completely off guard and Legolas raced at him, his blades up as he dealt blow after blow upon the man's sword. Legolas' arms seemed to move of their own accord, gaining speed with each and every thrust and power with each stroke. Ground was stolen out from underneath the human's feet as he was forced backwards, the mere intensity of the Elf's attacks enough to send him wheeling back, not to mention the swiftness in which the Elf attacked. Estel was hard pressed seeing Legolas' arms moving, let alone the blows and where they were aimed.
He felt trapped. As if he were locked on the inside and looking out through someone else's eyes as he forcefully drove the human back. It was deeper then usual, the pull and need stronger then anything he had ever experienced before. For so long it had been a granted that he fought to kill, that he was trained to take life with as little effort as possible and that he was to be unrelenting. And yet he could not kill Estel, he knew that and it was the only reason that he tried to fight against that desperate urge to finish the man off as quickly as probable. Yet that was not the entire situation. He always trusted himself; always put his faith and his life in that force that drove him on and ever closer to the kill, and yet this time it felt as if it were not actually him. As if he were a stranger on the inside, looking out at this practically unstoppable killing machine. It was odd, alien to him and, as much as he tried not to admit it, it scared him beyond belief.
Finally nicking at the underside of Estel's hand, all thoughts of 'sparring' scattered into the wind, Legolas saw to it that Estel released his blade. Using one of his own knives to clip the sword, the Elf sent it up into the air at the same time that he threw his right blade into the ground behind him. Thrusting his left bow-knife at the human's throat, Legolas easily caught Estel's sword as it fell. He drew his right arm back at the elbow, bringing the tip of the man's sword in line with the tip of his dagger and, keeping the weapons trailing on the human, stalked towards Estel with deadly grace. With each step the tips of the two blades threatened to prick Estel's skin, Legolas driving forward with eyes so darkly clouded that Estel actually found it wise to retreat.
"Do you yield?" Legolas demanded, his voice as fierce as the fire that burnt behind his usually emotionless eyes.
He was just tense, he told himself as he backed the human towards the ring of trees. Larnfield still played upon his mind, his shoulder ached, Estel had done naught but irritate him, the discovery of the substantial price on his head and the fact that he had not taken any rest in numerous days were all just taking their toll. He had no reason to fear that which he should embrace. He relished in this feeling of power, in the fact that he knew, even when Estel had started to fight back, that he would win. He lived for it; loved it. He did not fear it for such a thought was preposterous!
Nodding his compliance, Estel clenched his jaw tight, not entirely sure he liked this situation at all. He could see something within the Elf, hidden deep under that raging fire, which he could not place. Fear? Uncertainty? It was something that did not belong, that did not make sense to be seen in such a fair being, let along in one with as much spark as Legolas. Perhaps the Elf truly was not all that he seemed.
"I yield," Estel said, much more smoothly then he thought possible.
As soon as he had spoken the words it was as if a physical mask lifted off the Elf's face. The fire was quenched, his eyes once again that seemingly bottomless pool of ice-cold water and his face again at ease, the tightness and hint of something wilder all but lost as the refined and beautiful Prince of Mirkwood returned. Legolas almost looked startled; scared as he seemed to take in the sight before his eyes as if for the first time. It appeared as if he had been elsewhere during the battle, caught up in the world that would not permit Estel access and yet a world that the Elf was not entirely free to move about in as he pleased. He almost looked disgusted with the way that he held Estel's sword and his own knife, and, with little more then a moment having past, he rearranged his grip on the blade and threw the sword tip first into the ground as if it were a vulgar object akin to an Orc blade.
"Good," was the only word that he said as the Elf turned on his heels and stalked towards his discarded bow-knife. Kicking at the dirt just in front of the blade, he sent the dagger flying into the air where he easily caught it before placing it and its twin back into the sheaths strapped to his back. Grabbing up his bow, Legolas did not even look about the clearing as he swiftly exited, walking quickly out of Estel's vision for the third time in two days.
*****
To be continued...
*****
Next chapter preview:
Running swiftly across the lawn, Legolas was little more then a smudge upon the darkened grass and a fleeting silhouette mingling with the shadows of the tall house. As soon as he reached the wall of the separate kitchen, he flattened his back against the cool stone despite the fact that there was no sign of any guards or resistance. It was just a matter of old habits refusing to be overruled within the heat of the moment.
Later on:
Then there was the fact that as strong as Legolas wanted to make himself seem, even he had his limits, his boundaries - his breaking point - and, if the way his entire body shook with each movement, the way he found it difficult to do up the ties of the bag and the way that his head did not lift were signs that could be trusted, he was treacherously close to stepping over that dangerous line. Of passing that point of no return.
*****
Replies to reviews: (beware of the length...)
Eddie Uwnhai" LOL! It is always so interesting to see all the moronic mistakes that I make and never even pick up on! So, as usual, thank you for your help!
Aislynn Crowdaughter: Oh, I want Estel to be clumsy - where is the fun if he is some smooth talker that can win our homicidal Elf over with a mere word? He needs to screw up a few (many) times as it makes it more enjoyable for me (who does not like him) and actually is the thing that creates the basis of the story. I am glad you like it, but expect a lot of problems as they go...
Rabbit of Iron: *wonders about your sanity....* LOL! The chin-fuck comment, well, I guess I should have explained that. It is really simple really, nothing gross (such as your thought...) or kinky of anything. Just came about when I was talking about him with this guy I know and I could not remember his name...so I was there pressing my finger into my chin to try and recreate his monged dimple thing and the guy was like 'chin- fuck..oh Aragorn!' That's it, nothing too great, but yes, 'chin-fuck' or 'Arafuck'... I hope it is getting better as we go, else I am in trouble! Lol. And yes, as you just saw, Legolas kicked Arafuck's arse! *waves goodbye*
Ihni (both reviews) Oh, he is taking FAR too much for granted. And, may I just ask, who said anything about Legolas 'falling in love with him'? I mean, this is me. ME!!! have a hope, my dear friend, have a hope.
Lol, like I said, the whole "that has never happened" thing never crossed my mind. Of course it has never happened else he would not be there arguing with Erestor about it in the first place! Must have been one of those not-so-rare moronic moments! Lol.
*Gags over the falling for each other in fluff and pastels* Please! This is me, as I said. The day that they fall for each other in fluff and pastels will be the day that I write a story about them holding hands and singing as they skip happily through the daises - and they will be singing a Britney Spears song!
...so yes, do not worry about that as it will NEVER happen! And yes, hostility is the only way to go - also (normally) gets rid of a lot of hindrances! Legolas talking to himself is a reflection of both of us and the fact we say it is healthy. I was looking for a way to make that a little more comical, so I decided to do what I would do and make him talk/yell at himself! Lol.
Oh, I know what you mean about the school comment - 'tis horrible. But yes, poor Legolas...*eyes light up* it was fun to watch, wasn't it? *pokes you until you agree* And yes, I am learning, but I hope you realize just how hard this actually is!
Kael Kalespel: Oh, it is, isn't it. In fact, such a thought is utterly delightful! Thank you, thank you, thank you! *once again does Jack Sparrow style bows* and when will Legolas realize...well, if I told you that I would have to kill you...seriously! LOL!
I have worked out that Estel is like a stray dog...you feed it once and it keeps coming back even if you kick it...LOL. So yes, he is not about to give up after the little make-out session in the garden. And yes, he has his moments of perception...and then he has his moments of pure stupidity...LOL!
Tracy: *Smiles* I am glad that you can also picture Legolas with that bitchy look on his face - don't you think it suits him? 'Tis very condescending and scornful and yet at the same time I can so picture him just going 'dar!' Female influence? Ok, now I am just confused? Which female are you speaking of here? I normally make a point of keeping females out of my stories for a number of reasons. One, I can't write them (ok, I know that sounds odd considering that I am a girl and all, but I just can't) and two, I do not want to run the risk of creating the spawn of some-evil-god aka a Mary-Sue. Would fall upon my own blade before I created a Mary-Sue, and for that matter, most of the characters that I create will all be guys. So much easier to handle!
Iara: 'A little feisty'? LOL! Ah, but it is so much fun to make them fight! I am happy you like it, and thank you for the review!
Tainted Fortune: Favorite story? *is torn between feeling deeply honored or suggesting that you read some of the other wonderful fics out there which far surpass this poor excuse* Yay! I was worried that the little touches of humor would not be noticed, but it makes me feel better knowing that you saw it. The dinner scene was fun - the way he was so bored and actually showing it for once. Fun to write! I want to show that beneath that nasty, murderous and homicidal exterior there is a little bit of fun and innocence left in him, and that shall only be further elaborated upon as we go... but I hope you liked this chapter and I shall see you again next week!
whispers of an angel: Legolas is a bitch! LOL! But yes, he is mean, but that is the way that he had kept himself alive for so long... not that I feel sorry for Estel or anything, personally, I think Legolas should just kill him and move on...but they won't let me *glares at evil muses*
ivorybrowneyes: You are sick? *hands up over the blanket she stole from Elrohir, the herbal tea she pinched from Aragorn and Legolas' fluffy pillow that she ran off with last time she tried to tie him to his bed...* thank you for your review and I sincerely hope this finds you feeling better.
Analia: *Offers you a big smile* Were you forming images of Legolas' bed? Or Legolas *in* the bed...or Legolas *naked* in the bed, or was it Legolas *tied* to the bed... *slaps self out of sadistic daydreams*
I am glad you like his musings, and even gladder (is that even English?) that you believe I can do them well. Thank you for the compliment, although I tend to steer clear of too many musing as: one, I have too many thoughts myself, two, I can never distinguish when mine end and a characters' begin, and three, all of them are such a mess that I fear they shall not sound right. But yes, I have this thing for planning out something and then laughing evilly in the face of the characters as I make them do something else, which, on a whole, is much less entertaining for them! *cackles*
It does? Hi voice sounds like Frodo's? Ok, I so have to investigate this *pulls out popcorn, FotR DVD and the RotK trailer* Lol, but yes, the trailer was cool, and the Elf in the hood! Screw the bloody movie, just see it for the Elf in the hood! Lol, oh, and the prospect of sadistic enjoyment when you see Legolas surrounded by the Orcs...
Strangely enough, even I am unsure of why Legolas has pain in his shoulders... I needed something to put in there and then it just sort of continued on...knowing me I shall make something out of it that will not make sense and will be entirely over done, but it is worth a try! Lol. Legolas' steps being heavier - well, when I read over it again didn't make sense to me, so you are right. It was meant to be him stomping off, but "Legolas stomped off" sounded so...tacky and un-Elf like so I did it that way which didn't work either...
I am sorry that you suffer during the week; that was not my intention, it is just that there is no HUMANLY POSSIBLY way that I can update this every couple of days. As it was, I was hard pressed getting this chapter up on time. So please, invest in a stress ball or nail harder to help you stop any anxious habits!
AHHHHHHH!!!!! *claws at eyes* PLEASE!?!?! No thoughts of Arafuck and Legolas having wild monkey sex...I am far too innocent for such thoughts... HA! ...sorry...
Not having a point good. I mean look, I have just typed 414 words which have no point in reply to your review which had no point. To have no point not only leaves you open to the notion that you may create one, but it also is a great conversation starter! See look, none of that had a point, but it both filled in the time and actually made me think...LOL. Seriously now, thank you for the review and for the complements and I hope this finds you well!
Sirithiliel: For the majority of the story, it is going to be this 'I hate you, get the fuck away from me' relationship, so rest assured. After that, remember that I am not a huge slash fan myself, so do not expect anything over the top or graphic or anything like that. And oh, you got your wish - Legolas hurt him. actually, that entire battle scene was added in at the last minute - it was meant to be a short chapter with only his conversation with Rolf, but your review gave me the idea so I kinda changed quite a few things... Lol, so thank you!
CareLess: *Meows back at you while doing moronic clawing action with her hand* Thank you! Though I am sure that you would not believe how many people have informed me that I am far too sarcastic for my own good - it seems to be a 'S' thing with me: sarcasm, sadism and stupidity! Oh, and Estel being one of the assassins hunting Legolas? I think someone else has already asked that and I gave them one of my 'trying-to-be-cryptic' answers that did naught but make no sense! Lol. In other words, I am going to leave you hanging on that one and get back to you later... and oh, hurt him anyway, I don't like him! *hands you swords, whips, thumbscrews and other such implements*
Silvertoekee: *Grins hugely* I am so glad that you liked the 'lovers spat'. And yes, the future screams of the prospect of more arguments...or then, it might not...but t could (ok, that was me trying to keep you in suspense and failing miserably! LOL!) Legolas seems good with the denial thing - it suits him... And his problems? Well, I am starting to think that he will never figure them all out - there are just too many of them! Thank you kindly for letting me know what you thought!
*****
All right, that was long... sorry about that people. Anyway, I hope to see you all next week,
Minka.