*Is sitting here playing with her early Christmas present from a friend - A
'The Lord of the Rings, The Two Tower, Helm's Deep Legolas action figure
with Shield Skateboard' and wondering if it will work like a Voodoo
doll...* Hehe, yes, I had a deprived childhood but I have never had an
'action figure' before so I am having fun. All I ever had were stupid
Barbie's that ended up missing feet and being painted blood-red as I became
sadistic at a really early stage...
ANYWAY! Moving on. Here is the next chapter and again, be afraid, some of you more so then the others. There are some very 'un-Minka-ish' happenings in this chapter so consider yourself warned, though, I must say in my own defense, that there was no other way to set up the happenings of later on...but again, I am getting ahead of myself...
Oh, and just a word of warning: I was in a really feral mood when I wrote the battle scene to this chapter, and thus Legolas sort of goes all crazy- killer and it is a little bit of a blood bath...so yes, lots of violence this chapter even though the battle is only short.
So, without any more talk from me, let Legolas' slow spiral into darkness begin!
*****
The Thrill of the Chase
Chapter Seven
Phantoms of the Night (Black Velvet)
*****
Staring up at the manor with indifference, Legolas assessed the best way in which to enter unnoticed. It was a dull job really. Sneak in, make it look like an accident and sneak out; novice work and definitely nothing to get excited about.
Night had crept upon the land many hours ago, cloaking the world with her deep blackness in an usually swift manner.
It had been three days since Legolas left Rivendell under the guise of wanting to travel the forests and it was needless to say that the task of getting away had not been an easy one. Erestor, never one to disappoint, had been insistent on Legolas taking an escort with him, or, if he refused that, Erestor himself was set to come with him. Finally rending to the others wishes, Legolas had accepted the escort reluctantly which meant another day and night was spent in idleness while wandering the woods and listening to the chatter of the other Elves. Much to his chagrin, the Elf - whose name Legolas still did not know - who had been his dinner guest for the night of his arrival was one of those which volunteered to 'protect the Elven prince with his life as he reacquainted himself with the gardens of Rivendell'. Though a little Valerian in their water supply on the second night of their expedition saw he and the others pass out like drunken dwarves and Legolas heading out into the night on his own. He would surly have to explain himself when he returned to the Homely House, but he was sure that if he smiled enough, apologized profoundly and then gently laid the blame on Erestor insisting on the escort, there would be no harm done.
And so he was now standing at the edge of the forest which flanked the large manner of his next target and waiting for the moment that he would finally go into action.
Deciding that there was no better moment then the now, Legolas pulled his dark cloak around his shoulders, all the while being glad that he had left a good set of velvety black clothes in Rivendell on his last visit. 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.
He had this well planned, down to the very second and he would not let even a shadow pass without his consent and knowledge. He had spent the entirety of that day and the night before watching the house with intent interest, keeping tabs of the servants, one the visitors and the amount of people that left in relation to the number that entered. If he was not mistaken, a single dark-haired gentleman remained within the house along with the older man, although his purpose was one that Legolas could only guess at. The visitor did not seem to excrete any form of ranking in office, his clothes were simple and yet not to the extent of a commoner, and while he did present himself with a hint of grace, he was far from being of any notable birth. For all Legolas knew the man was simply a well dressed servant, a butler or, perhaps somewhat more saucy, a younger 'companion' for the aging man held up within the comforts of his house.
Either way, he did not seem to present himself as being too much trouble, and, even if he was handy with a weapon, Legolas was more then confident that he could take him.
It was with that in mind that Legolas slipped a slender finger into the narrow gap between his gauntlet, the soft leather of his gloves and his wrist, drawing out a long, thin sliver of mithril. Blowing at a strand of hair that fell in his face, Legolas crouched by the door, his eyes narrowing as he carefully and quietly inserted the shard of silvery metal into the lock. His lower lip disappearing as his teeth came to chew gently on the skin, Legolas wiggled the small rod, trying to keep his actions as quiet as possible.
Normally on such a small job, he would have opted for a case of breaking one of the windows and getting himself straight to the point. But this one called for a little more tack, though it was still well below his league. The man's death - Julkin's death - had to look like natural causes else the son would run the risk of having the transferal of the estate into his name put on pause due to investigation. Also, over the last day or two, Legolas had finally been able to think upon the seriousness of his current situation. If any signs of his handy work were to show up, then he would have anyone and everyone hot on his trail, trying to be the one to track him and take him down. While the idea of a few peasants with pitchforks did not worry him, the number of said fools did, especially if he were forced to leave a trail of corpses in his wake...
It was those two issues and those two issues alone that prevented him from kicking the door down, walking in and just slitting the man's throat.
Once again Legolas found himself cursing the Valar for doing all in their power to make his life hard.
One more flick of his wrist saw a third click emit from the lock and brought a smile to the Elf's lips. Hand reaching up, he turned the knob gently and found, much to his relief that the door swung open easily and quietly.
The feeling of being an intruder was one that Legolas was well and truly used to by now and, as callous as it sounded, he did not hold any regret for his breaking and entering. It was just a part of his job and something that needed to be done.
Legolas paused in his crouched position for a moment, allowing his eyes to adjust to the gloom within the house and to take in his surroundings.
The house, though large, was very basic in its layout, helping the Elf to navigate the rooms by a simple guess and check procedure. He had entered through the kitchen, so all rooms surrounding that would either be storage, dinning, parlours and rooms for the servants back in the day when the house would have been at its height. Legolas was to hazard a guess that through the main dinning hall and into the foyer at the front of the house, here would be a staircase which would lead upstairs and to the bedrooms - a guess that he soon proved to be correct.
Once up the stairs and standing on the narrow hall, each wall lined with doors and paintings, it was relatively easy to find Julkin's room - it being simply a matter of looking for the most ostentatious door and the signs of more frequent footfalls on the carpet. A few quick, silent steps down the hall and the softest click of the door lock was all it took for Legolas to be standing in the room of the deeply slumbering man, his plan well on its way to execution.
Approaching the bed silently, Legolas pulled out a small vial of poison from a pouch that lay strapped to his belt, hidden by the long folds of his black velvet cape. Poison held tightly in his gloved hand, Legolas concentrated on keeping his breathing low and hushed and his footsteps even lighter then what they usually were.
This was the tricky part; actually being able to get the poison within the man's mouth and down his throat without any spillage or sounds that could possibly wake up the servant and visitor who still remained in the lower rooms.
Pulling out a small coil of tightly spun yarn, Legolas firmly wrapped one end around his left hand and let the other dangle freely. Using his teeth to pull the cork out of the small carafe, he carefully moved his right hand so that the neck of the bottle was under the hanging cord before dipping the rope into the flask. Now it was simply a matter of a few moments while the rope absorbed the poison. It would work in a fashion similar to how a cloth, left half in a tub of water and half hanging over the ground would transfer some of the water from the tub to the floor through its fibers. All he had to do was wait until he could feel it soaking into his gloves and then position the end of the cord that was around his hand into the man's mouth, thus moving the poison along as the other end of the cord soaked up more.
See, the entire situation was tricky, but far from impossible.
Feeling the poison soak through his glove and wet his hand, Legolas knew that it was time to move before too much of the deadly liquid was wasted.
As he neared the bed, Legolas could not help but notice that the slumbering man's breathing was strangely erratic, coming in gasps too short for a peacefully sleeping man. Brushing it aside as a thing that happens to human's as they grew old, Legolas crouched down beside the head of his target.
Placing the bottle down and unwinding the string from his left hand, Legolas moved that end up to the man's face, aiming for the mouth.
What happened after that was completely unexpected...
The door burst open with a resounding bang loud enough to make the Elf jump and whirl around on his heels. Bottle of poison and his target all but forgotten, Legolas watched wide-eyed as five men trickled through the door, each and every one of them heavily armed. The man in front, obviously the leader, Legolas recognized right away as the man that he had seen come and go that morning; the one that had stayed in the house after most of the others retired to their own dwellings. For a moment, Legolas thought that he may have made too much noise and that he had woken the man's caretaker, but one look into those dark and cruel eyes, Legolas knew that he could not be further from the truth.
"Well, this is interesting..." the man said with a smile as he walked slowly forward. He looked the Elf up and down and, much to Legolas' disgust, the other quirked his eyebrows slightly as he licked his lips. Rolling his eyes, Legolas hardly paid attention to the man as he looked over the scene before them and eventually spoke again. "Nice technique; no poison on the lips, no toxin investigation."
"I see you know the ways of the trade," Legolas replied calmly, keeping the small talk going as he quickly started to assess the other men.
"I know you," the other corrected. At this Legolas merely scoffed and rose one eyebrow in challenge. There was no way that he knew this human - he tried to never forget a face as one never knows when an acquaintance from the past is about to stab you in the back.
"Oh, do not look so skeptical," the dark-haired man continued with a quick smile back at his men, "I - we, I should say, may not know your name, but we know you by actions and reputation."
"I am sure you do," Legolas replied, his eyes roaming over each of the men in an attempt to take stock of their weaponry. Unlike the men in Larnfield, these were more professional, better at concealing their weapons and their various strengths. All Legolas could truly make out was that they were well armed -with other implements then just the swords that they all held unsheathed - and were highly trained by the way they stood.
"Come now, I know most of your little secrets. I have been following in your footsteps for years!" the man proclaimed, as if his achievement was something to be boasted about. "Watching you strike, trying to work out how it is that you just disappear for years on end only to strike with more fury and deadly grace then your last outing. My employers have an entire file on you, though they are yet to be able to put a name to it. Care to share?"
Legolas just smiled.
"I guessed as much," the other continued, not at all put off by the slightly feral gleam in the Elf's eyes. "But I must say, it was quiet the interesting read; all the stuff that they have collected. The way you work, those that you have killed, the subtle and the high profile escapes alike. Even those you use and leave behind make nice editions to the numerous pages. You are like a hero to most of us, a legend that some claimed did not exist. "
"Well, I am glad that you enjoyed my life story," Legolas said with nothing but sarcasm in his voice, "but I have no care to hear yours, so I shall merely offer you the knowledge that after tonight, you shall have your own pages added to my file under the 'victims' section."
"Well, well, we are mighty sure of our self, aren't we?" the other mocked with a cruel twinkle in his eyes. He and Legolas just stared at each other, trying to assess the others weaknesses and strengths while the intensity of their glares also fought for dominance.
During this time, the man in the bed finally stirred and proved to be the only thing that could have possibly cut into the battle of wills that the human and Elf were engaged in. As his eyes slowly blinked open, he tried to focus on the strangers gathered in his private chambers. Slowly trying to push himself up into a sitting position, Legolas saw for the first time just how feeble the man truly was. Mortally was such a crippling thing to be cursed with.
"What's goin' on 'ere?" the man demanded, his voice hardly above a scratchy whisper although he tried to make himself sound tough.
The dark-haired man whirled into action at the sound of Julkin's voice. Pulling out a dagger, he quickly crossed the room and shoved the man back down. Julkin made a startled cry before gasping out something which sounded like the beginnings of a name before the assassin harshly drew the blade across the man's wrinkled throat, opening it up and allowing blood to flow onto the white sheets.
Legolas looked away, the gurgling in the human's throat being the last thing that he wanted to hear at the moment. Something about the way in which the man had been near death already almost made him sad; almost made him regret that the few years the man had left had been stolen in such a way.
"Oh come now, do not feign repulsion," the other said with disgust as he wiped the blade of his dagger on the man's shirt, cleaning it of the blood, "you were going to kill him anyway. I just saved you the hassle."
"If that was the true reason for your presence, then I would feel inclined to thank you for your help," Legolas said with a forced smile and a mocking bow, "But there is more to it then that, is there not? So let's skip the forced formality and get to the real reason before I lose interest."
"As you wish," the other said with a bow of his own. "Kill him!" he ordered his men.
Glad to finally have some way in which to release the tension that had been building up in him for the last couple of days, Legolas smiled as the four man came at him, swords and daggers brandished high. The first reached him before Legolas had even pulled out his dagger, and so, with a small chuckle to himself, Legolas kicked the man square in the face, sending him backwards in a stumble as blood poured from his shattered nose.
Deftly pulling his twin blades from behind his back, Legolas spun them once as he waited for the next human to approach. Acting swiftly, probably fasted then what the human could truly comprehended, Legolas crossed his wrists and slit the man's throat with both blades. Before the human fell, Legolas quickly crouched on one knee and slashed across the man's stomach with yet another scissor motion, before turning his right blade just in time to block a downward thrust from another attacker. Leaping back onto his feet, the Elf kicked the dying man over, the impact of his boot splashing blood from the deep wounds that crossed his stomach.
Whirling onto the next, a fanatical smile on his face, Legolas waited for the man to make the first move. When he did, a forceful swing of his sword right at the Elf's neck, Legolas merely ducked under the blow and moved forward. Locking eyes with the man whose nose he had broken, Legolas did not even look behind him and he reached down and slashed the ligaments in the others knees, effectively hamstringing him. Before the man behind him fell, Legolas swung his other blade back and cut a deep gash into the side of the man's throat, opening up half of his throat and causing a river of arterial-spray to flow out and splash against the nearby wall.
The man with the broken nose took a few quick paces back, his hand still covering his bleeding facial feature as his eyes reflected both his pain and utter horror as the Elf glared at him.
A small battle cry from Legolas' left alerted him to the approach of his next attacker, and, deciding to be a little different, he dropped both his bow-knives to the floor. As the man swung at him, Legolas ducked under the blow and sent the ball of his open palm smashing into the man's collar bone. The man gagged as his breath became constricted and stumbled further away from the Elf, his sword dropping to the ground as his hands flew to his throat. Leaning to his right slightly, Legolas sent a forceful kick into the man's chest before rushing at the other and backhanding him across the face. With the force of the hit and his protesting lungs, the human soon found himself leaning against the blood splattered wall for support while not being able to do anything as the Elf approached.
Fingers outstretched and held slightly back, Legolas let his gloved left hand fly towards the man's face, locking his palm over the man's nose and mouth. Shoving hard, he did not even watch as the assassin's head hit the wall. His body struggled and withered in vain as his hands shot up to wrap around the Elf's leather arm-guard though he remained trapped between the structure and the poison-soaked glove. As the man fought against the Elf's superior strength, Legolas reached to his lower back, pulling a small blade free. Gripping it by the tip of the blade, the prince threw it through the air with deadly accuracy, striking the man with the broken nose - who had been trying to flee the room - in the throat. Removing his hand from across the others face, Legolas watched as, as one, the two bodies fell, one with a gurgling scream as blood bubbled from his open throat and the other in a what appeared to be a dead faint, his body slackening as the poisonous fumes traveled through his system.
Brushing a stray strand of hair from his eyes, Legolas allowed his gaze to slowly float over to the leader who, throughout the battle, had remained on the opposite side of the bed.
"Next!" Legolas said with a raised eyebrow. "As it would seem that your men met with a small accident."
"So it would seem..." the dark-haired man said through tight lips. He was not at all impressed, after all, he had brought some of the best people under his command, and yet the Elf had just made messy work of them within a few moments.
His hand tightening around the hilt of his dagger until his knuckles went white, the man waited for a mere moment before launching the blade from his hand, aiming it right at Legolas' head.
The Elven assassin easily dodged the blade by simply reaching down and picking up one of his own discarded battle knives. Clutching it in his right hand, he merely offered the other man a small shake of his head. "First lesson," he breathed out, though hardly out of breath as the leader of the group charged at him from the other side of the room, "never attack in anger." He finished as he sidestepped the man's feeble thrust and brought his elbow down on the spot between the man's shoulder blades.
The dark-haired man stumbled for a moment before quickly righting himself and turning on his heels. "You are right," he hissed out, "for that rule momentarily fled from me." he admitted, before adding, "But it shan't happen again!"
This time, when he came at the Elf, he was far more prepared, more calculating with each and every stroke and actually offered Legolas what would resemble a challenge. With a long sword against the single Elven knife, Legolas found himself needing to press the tips of his fingers to the flat of the tip of his blade in order to keep his wrist from giving way under the pressure. Elven blades were strong and resilient, but even they had their weaknesses, and the ability for a sword thrust anywhere near the tip of the blade was one of them. It would open the user's defenses up by forcing the point to turn inwards to face the holder thus not only leaving the Elf's right side completely exposed, but also giving the sword a nice path to slide down and a good chance of hitting the left arm. That was why, under any normal circumstances, an Elven warrior would fight with the twin knives as they covered both sides of the body and could easily reflect a blow with a mere cross of the blades.
Another forceful blow had Legolas raising his knife above his head, his fingers pressed to the very tip of the blade to avoid coming into contact with the razor sharp edge of the others weapon. A quick kick to the man's side broke the power struggle and Legolas found it easy to leap out of the way of the now down-coming sword.
One of the man's hands left the hilt of his blade and came to cradle his side, suggesting that Legolas' kick had been far more effective then he thought and had perhaps cracked a rib. Seeing his opportunity, Legolas took a step backwards and quickly spun his blade again.
"Second lesson," he said as he threw the knife into the air only to catch it in a different hold. "Never..." he continued while flicking his wrist and sending the sliver of the knife twirling through the air, "...take your eyes..." Once again throwing the knife into the air, Legolas swiftly applied another kick to the winded man's stomach before he caught his bow- knife. Spinning it over his arm to hold it behind his back, he skillfully threw it from his right hand to his left before taking a large step forward while swinging the dagger in a wide arch, its path ending as it buried itself in between the man's ribs of his left side. "...off an Elf's blade." Legolas finished as he pulled his weapon from the man's side.
The leader of the group looked completely stunned as he dropped his sword, favoring the use of the other hand to hold his heavily bleeding side. His face contorted in pain as blood ran swiftly through his fingers, falling like a waterfall onto the carpet below him and pooling out as the fibers could soak up no more.
Legolas watched in silence, his blood covered blade still clasped tightly in his hand. He did not quite know what to make of what had just happened in the room. The men had been a threat, people out to claim that ridiculously large reward just like what he knew would happen, and yet, looking around him, he was almost disgusted. While the old man, lying dead in his once white sheets now stained red with his own blood had not been his fault, the rest of it had. The carpet was starting to fill with red and was to the point that Legolas was sure that it would squelch if trodden on. Many places on the wall were splattered with the thick red substance which was now surrendering to gravity, slowly rolling down the smooth walls in gooey, viscous streams. Man lay all about the room, large, ugly wounds gleaming in the near dark as even more of their life-blood seeped from the jagged tears in their flesh. And still the leader knelt, looking up at him in terror and pain as his side continued to bleed and stain his fingers crimson.
Legolas felt like dropping his knife and retching at the sight before his eyes and the smell that assaulted his nose - at the massacre that he himself had created. None of the deaths had been clean, none swift like he always promised himself he would make them. It was a barging that he had long held with his conscience: it would not interfere if he did not make any of them suffer beyond their own sins. But not this time. This time he had fully lost control, he had surrendered everything to those murderous impulses which boiled just below the surface. Those that he could still feel there with disturbing clarity. His actions and butchery had added fuel to the already burning feelings within him, given them the power that he had always tried to suppress and keep separate and it was with a slight hint of terror that he knew that now, since he had allowed himself to completely disappear within that deep haze that came whenever he allowed his impulses to take over, he would never be rid of them. Never be able to keep that blood-lust from entering his veins and clouding his mind again.
"Please?" the chocked plea of the man before him brought Legolas slamming back to the world of the present. Realizing that the man was still alive, if only just, and what it was that the man asked, Legolas nodded his head slightly and blinked his eyes clear. His teeth sinking slowly into his bottom lip, Legolas righted himself and tightened his grip on his dagger.
It was with his eyes partly closed that Legolas sunk the blade halfway to the hilt into the man's chest, knowing that it would kill him within moments. Sighing loudly, Legolas casually yanked his blade free of the man's stomach and watched as the dark-haired man fell backwards, telling himself that watching the man die would act as a deterrent and prevent anything like that happening again.
"And your last lesson," Legolas said almost solemnly, knowing full well that the dying man could hear him. "Just because you follow someone, or you read all about them does not mean that you are experienced enough to take them on. And it does not mean that you should want to be like them out of some twisted form of 'hero worship'. 'Tis just a shame that you learnt that too late." The Elf added as he literally saw the life drain from the human. His face went slack, his hands flopped to the ground and his last movement was his eyes flittering closed as a pool of blood threatened to swallow him and the floor alike.
For a moment Legolas just looked around the room and stared.
That presence of the dark-haired man disturbed him more then he cared to admit. It was obvious that Julkin's gentlemen caller was well known and familiar to all who worked the house and grounds, so it could easily be said that he was a long time acquaintance.
They were after him, there was no doubt about that, which meant that they had to have been tipped off by someone and a long time ago. If the dark- haired man was well known, then this very incident had to have been planned for some time by someone who knew of the price on his head before hand. That meant that the entire thing had been staged, even Rolf being told of the job for Legolas had been pre-planned - that also meant that they knew about Rolf...
Grunting in utter frustration, Legolas moved across the room to one of the less hacked at humans and knelt down next to him. Rolling him over, he saw that there was nothing special about the way he dressed, he held nothing of importance and his blade was completely different from each and every other one in the room - matching blades being one of the main signs of allegiance to a certain group. Legolas was just about to stand when a flash of silver on the man's index finger caught his eye.
"The Order of Tercutkus," Legolas said to himself, chastising himself for not thinking of it sooner as he slipped the ring from the finger, knowing the craftsmanship and style of the ring as soon as he saw it. The ring was crafted of twists of silver and gold entwining around a drop shaped ruby of the deepest red - the sign of spilt blood. Turing the silver and gold loop over and over in his hands, Legolas purged his lips together and glanced around the room.
He should have known the moment that they stepped into the room; the moment that the leader said they had a file on him; the moment that he fought the men who were greatly skilled for humans even if they did not last long in battle. He should have known...
The Order of Tercutkus were a fearsome group of assassins, specializing only in the most deadly of tasks and in taking down the hardest of targets. They had a reputation that succeeded even Legolas', though most people merely thought the band a myth. They were never seen, never heard and never caught. Deadly as wargs and yet silent and swift like shadows; they were a force to be reckoned with and one that seemed to slip in and out of knowledge.
Only once before had Legolas had dealings with the Order. It had been many years ago, when he was only getting used to the new life that he had designated for himself and when he was not half as accomplished and skilled as he was now. He and a member of the Order had been after the same target, both unawares of the other hunter. As it was, they only found out about each other in the very room of the intended victim, Legolas arriving only moments after his unknown rival had taken the kill. Both must had thought the other to be a threat as, within a moment, they were both locked into a deadly battle around the man's chambers - a battle that Legolas was lucky to escape from with is life. Needless to say that the delegate of Tercutkus vanished without a trace and with hardly a scratch on him.
Yet as Legolas had just shown, times had changed. He was no longer the slightly meek novice that had been cursed with having a run in with the Order. Now he was the power in these parts and judging by the number of bodies, the Order knew it.
Whoever it was that was after his head was obviously not afraid of playing with fire; mercenaries, swords for hire, and now the Order of Tercutkus... they were big stakes to let loose, the later reserved only for when all else failed. Now, if not before, it was clearly obvious that this person who had put the two thousand gold pieces on his head meant business.
But who was it?
He had had the pleasure of aggravating many a person in his lifetime, so it was not a simple case of picking the most likely. It could even be someone from years back, having spent all this time waiting for the right moment and a time in which no blame could be put upon them. A grudge long forgotten, a revenge attempt from some disgruntled family member, or even a political plot that involved his father. After all, it had not said that he was an assassin on the flyer. It had been naught but his face and the offered amount, no mention of the fact that he was even royalty.
It honestly could be anyone.
But the Order of Tercutkus? They were not cheap and not easy to find meaning that the person was of obvious wealth and knew a great deal of less then reputable contacts.
The idea plagued his mind, swept all thoughts free save for the ones in regards to the deceased bodies that lay spread about him. They had known that he would be here. But how? He had been as careful as always, maybe even more so due to the knowledge that he had a price on his head. It had to have been staged from the word go; for months. Right back to when Rolf was informed of the job and, given his habit of being easily sidetracked, it would have taken him quite some time to track Legolas down and deliver the message. So he had a pretty good idea on how it had been set up, but more importantly, did they know where he had come from?
For once he was lost, utterly and truly alone. He had neither the supplies nor the equipment to make an escape out into the wild for any amount of time, but at the same time, what if the assassins knew where he had come from? He would risk leading them right back to Rivendell if he returned. And he was too far from home and with winter starting to set in, he would not make it to the high pass above Rivendell before it snowed over.
He had no choice, he had to go back to Rivendell and face both Erestor's questioning and his conscience there. The thought made him shudder, wanting nothing more then to be on his own for a time the idea of going back to the crowded Homely House was one that did not appear all too appealing.
But then, at the same time, for some reason he felt as if it may do him good. At the beginning of the fight, all he had thought about was ridding himself of that mounting tension, and yet, now, with the battle past and nothing but the mess left behind, he found that he felt even worse then before. His shoulder still pained which was an endless source of annoyance, and, even more infuriating, he could not seem to shake the thought of Estel, of that infuriating human who was the bane of his existence in Rivendell from his mind.
Rolling his shoulders and rotating his neck, Legolas found himself half moaning and half gasping in pain at his tight muscles. He was far too tense, the tightness of his shoulders getting to the point where it would hinder his movement and cause his life to be at risk within a fight. He had to find some way to rid both his mind and body of this constant rigidity.
Arching his back and stretching his arms out behind him, a small smile played upon the Elf's face. He was sure he had just the cure...
*****
The way he moved, it was a sin, so sweet and true.
Always wanting more, he'd leave you longing for...
Black velvet and that little boy's smile
Black velvet with that slow southern style
A new religion that'll bring you to your knees
Black velvet if you please
*****
Two days later...
*****
The door mocked him. Laughed in his face as he stood there, the toes of his boots highlighted by the soft glow of candles that streamed out from under the gap between the door and the floor. The light, that which he had always loved, always felt safe when surrounded by it, made Legolas feel as if his feet were on fire. Its imaginary flames scorched more then just his leather boots; it seared his soul and burnt itself onto his memory.
No matter how long he lived, he was sure that he would always remember the sight before him. The tall leering door, the soft, gentle light and the stranger cloaked in darkness that stood at the entrance, fearing what may lie within both the room and himself if he entered.
It was madness, utter foolishness to feel such a way, and he knew it.
With a deep breath Legolas reached forward, his gloved hand tentatively touching the crafted knob of the door in a way that would seem he feared it would bit him. A small flick of the wrist saw the door swing open and Legolas walking into the room, all the while trying to ignore the voice in his head that told him to turn around and leave now.
The sound of his door opening alerted Estel to a visitor - one that had obviously never heard of knocking - and he instantly folded the piece of parchment that he was writing on and quickly tucked it into the concealments of his desk drawer, slowly turning as he did so.
"Legolas?" Estel asked once his eyes fell on the other. The prince was the last person that Estel had thought to be the unannounced visitor; in fact, the young human did not even know that Legolas knew where his room was.
Rising from his chair, Estel made his way slowly over to the Elf who, for some unknown reason, refused to meet his gaze. He made his steps loud and sure, seeing that the Elf seemed to be in some form of light daze, and yet he made sure that he kept as much distance between them as possible. The last thing that he wanted was a repeat of the happenings of the last time that he saw Legolas, and the truthfulness of the situation was that he was not entire sure he could trust that the prince was not here to bring up old riffs.
Estel had not seen the other in days but the memory of the look in Legolas' eyes as they fought was still fresh in his mind. For the last five to six days he had gone out of his way to avoid any and all places that Legolas might have been, not wanting to irate the Elf any further and hoping that all could be forgotten in time. After all, he may have had a bad experience (or two) but he was far from giving up on his attempt in wooing the Elf. Legolas just needed some time to cool off, to find out more on Estel and be assured that the human would do naught to hurt him and Estel was more then willing to allow the other as much time as he needed before he once again gave pursuit.
Yet none of that stood to explain why Legolas was currently standing in his room, looking tired and weary in his dark clothing and back velvet cloak with his eyes locked on the floor.
Legolas looked tired beyond belief; worn out and spent. His eyes, from the small view that Estel had access to, were partly closed and ringed darkly. His mouth drawn tight and his hair in what could only be called disarray, Legolas looked as if he had trekked halfway across Middle-Earth with a band on Orcs on his tail. He constantly moved his right shoulder, rotating it ever so slightly as he stood with his hands clasped in front of him. With a small smile, Estel could not help but think that Legolas looked so young, so venerable at that very moment and the human knew that there was nothing he would not give to be able to try and comfort the Elf.
But before that could happen he had to first find out what was wrong and secondly, show Legolas that he could be trusted. Both which, if Estel knew as much about Mirkwood's prince as he thought he did, would be very hard to do.
"Legolas? Are you all right?" he decided to start simple, moving forward with his head down and shoulder bent, trying to see in through and under that cascade of golden hair. When it was once again painfully obvious that Legolas was not about to lift his gaze from the floor, Estel once again spoke as he moved his face closer, peering at the silent Elf with worry. "What is wrong?"
That voice. It was like a toxin, a poison racing through his body causing it to react in ways that he could not possibly comprehend. Legolas' heart raced and his pulse quickened, his hands, had they not been so tightly clasped together, would have begun to tremble...and all because of the human's voice. Scrunching his eyes together, Legolas just wanted to hear the man speak more...or shut up entirely.
He was a wreck, he knew that. He neither looked presentable nor was in a stable enough frame of mind to be eloquent, let alone speak. At least he had had the sense to clean himself up after the blotched job at the manner, removing all traces of blood and poison from his clothes, hair and skin. It would have been poor judgment to come here like that, even for his current state. Any and all confidence that he had held in his plan at the house had been shot down once he came to stand in front of the human's door on the very night of his arrival. He had only taken the time to drop his supplies in his room before coming here, at that point in time still being utterly sure that he could find the release that he needed in the young human. But now...
"Legolas?"
"Nothing..." Legolas finally said dismissively and with a small shake of his head. The words did not even sound as if they had come from his own lips; they seemed hollow, distant and filled with something that he could not identify, something that he did not like to hear. "I...it is nothing," he added with a little more confidence to his tone though his eyes never strayed from the floor. "I should go. Sorry for disturbing you."
Utterly shocked at not only Legolas' sudden decision to speak, but also at the completely out of character apology, Estel could do naught but stand there and frown as the Elf turned silently and made his way towards the door. Taking only a mere moment to sort his confusing feelings out, Estel made a dash for the Elf as he called his name while attempting to catch his arm before he walked out of his sight yet again.
Legolas stopped mid-stride, Estel's hand on his arm and his name still floating on the air. The way Estel spoke his name; the feeling of warmth as the human's hand clasped around his shoulder was enough to send all thoughts from Legolas' head while yet still allowing him to be completely confused.
Doing what he always did, what he had been trained to do, Legolas allowed his impulses to take over and spur him into a line of action.
As the Elf spun and pushed him back, Estel was sure that he had once again overstepped the fuzzy boundaries which existed between him and the Elf. He was prepared for anything, whatever Legolas was about to do, he would try to be compliant else risk pushing the prince further away with his resistance. If Legolas needed to remind Estel to keep his hands to himself, then so be it and Estel would do as he wished...for awhile at least.
The two of them stumbled for awhile, Legolas driving forward as Estel struggled to keep his steps quick and steady as he was pushed backwards. His back finally pressing against the far wall, Estel saw Legolas move his face in closer to his, a look which Estel guessed to be a snarl spreading across his lips. Mentally preparing himself for whatever the Elf had to throw at him, Estel kept his face clam and relaxed as he regarded the Elf.
The sudden warmth of Legolas' lips against his own caught the human completely off guard, freezing him in place against the wall with the Elf pressed tightly against him. He was sure he had slipped into some from of trance - perhaps Legolas had knocked him out and this was just a figment of his imagination - for Legolas could not truly be kissing him.
Legolas could feel the human tense against him, his muscles go taut in a feeling that he was utterly unsure of - was it fear, shock, terror, longing?
How could he tell?
His eyes, all Legolas had to do was look into Estel's eyes and he would know why he had reacted such, and yet, he could not bring himself to do it. Within that split second of contemplation, Legolas knew that no matter how much he wanted to or how hard he tried, he could not look the man square in the eyes. Not like this...not after this...
It had been that way since he entered the room, his heart and mind troubled beyond belief. Something had made him come here; something had told him how to react and, even now, told him to kiss the man pinned to the wall. From the moment that he saw the light under Estel's door, Legolas had been subconsciously telling himself that it meant nothing, that he was just stressed, tense and even scared, and that Estel would be like the string of others that Legolas had left defeated and heart broken in his wake. Even now he believed that: there was no other reason for this, nothing that could be seen as deep and meaningful. It was only Legolas finally satisfying those undeniable urges that had stirred within him after his actions with Sard in Larnfield.
Indeed it was unfortunate that it was Estel this time as Legolas knew it would hurt the man more deeply then any of his past 'acquaintances' but it could not be helped. Legolas could not control who was in Rivendell at the time nor could he pick and chose who would actually be able to make him feel something other then the need for excitement and the want for adventure. It was not his fault that Estel actually made him feel like anything more then a heartless assassin or a trophy to be placed upon a pedestal; nothing more then a pretty trinket to be looked at and patted, protected and worshiped.
It was like any of his jobs: a hit and run. Dominate and leave behind. Use and then break all contact so that none could get close. It was the way it had always been and the way that it always would be. Estel was merely another pawn in his life, another piece for Legolas to move about his board as he progressed through what he saw as a game of cat and mouse.
After all, the man would get over it. Once Legolas was gone, Estel would never again lay eyes on him in the human's short lifespan. Chances are Estel would find some nice Elven girl to settle down with - someone who liked to be treated like a treasure, who liked to be pampered and kissed, loved and cherished; someone who was willing to be part of the humans life and forfeit their independence. So it was all for the best - for both of them. Legolas was saved from having to remain so tightly strung while not having to look in any places too uncomfortable for relief while Estel would get a taste of what he thought he wanted and thus be shown that Legolas really wasn't the type for him.
It was a win-win situation!
Then why could Legolas not look the man in the eyes?
Forcing any and all thoughts from his head, Legolas pressed himself closer to the human, wanting to feel every reaction that Estel had, every flinch or tremor - anything and everything that he could.
He had long given up on the foolish idea that he could feel anything more then the fast pace of his heart when in fear or the reddening of his ears and cheeks when angry, so he wanted to hold onto the human, leaching his reactions and feelings from him like a bloodsucking leech.
For the time being Estel was not doing anything, just standing there as Legolas attacked his mouth and kept him pinned to the wall. Estel's failure to respond got to such a level that Legolas was sure something was wrong. Maybe he had read the human wrong - but that was impossible, wasn't it? Estel had kissed him, had followed him around and made preposterous declarations of 'feeling' things. Why did he not respond?
A pair of arms snaking around Legolas' waist took him slightly by surprise and he prepared himself to be shoved back, having already determined that he had made a grave mistake. Only, the total opposite occurred. Estel gripped at Legolas' waist and hips, drawing him closer as he finally dropped his head to better capture Legolas' searching mouth.
Legolas could feel the slight unease in the human slipping away with each and every time their lips moved; with each time their tongues brushed. Within a moment, Estel's arms were so tightly wrapped around Legolas that the Elf feared he would never be able to get out of the embrace and that he would be slowly squeezed to death.
Slowly wiggling in the grasp, Legolas managed to get his point across to the human who thankfully allowed his grasp to loosen and Legolas to once again be able to breathe as their lips finally parted. Sure that Estel knew of the fact that Legolas was in charge, the Elf felt no need to speak as he once again latched onto the human's lips, careful to never allow his eyes to lock with those of Estel's.
Legolas was about to pull the human towards the bed when, before he knew it, he found that Estel's hands had roamed further then what he thought. The human grabbed hold of the back of his thighs, pulling the Elf's legs up as he lent his head back. Legolas arms' having been wrapped around the man's neck, only helped Estel in achieving his goal of pulling the prince right against him and forcing Legolas to wrap his legs around the young man's waist in order to keep their balance.
Legolas was more then a little put off by this shift in power, especially as Estel started leading them towards the bed in a fashion which suggested that Estel thought he was in control. No one had ever dared to do such a thing before, none ever having the audacity and the courage to do something without Legolas' permission. Normally they bent to his will, gave what was expected and received what was given, knowing full well that it was Legolas calling the shots.
Estel? Well, he seemed to have a mind and agenda of his own as he carefully yet awkwardly dropped Legolas onto the soft bed before crawling up on there himself. Reaching out quickly, he secured the Elf - who was already trying to regain control of the situation - on his back, Estel's weight holding him easily in place as the human lay out on top of him. Legolas was about to voice his protest; ready to tell this overconfident human how these things worked when Estel's lips latched onto his throat, sucking and nibbling gently at the pale skin while making the Elf not only let out a small moan, but also decide that there was no harm in allowing Estel his small moment of control.
As Estel's tongue dipped into the hollow of Legolas' throat, Legolas felt his back arch on its own accord, just as an unchecked moan passed his lips. He had never felt such a thing, never had his skin tingle with such pleasurable fire at such a simple touch. It was riveting, remarkable, utterly mind-blowing, and what's more, it made him want to forget about everything else. About his life, about the fact that he was merely using the young man and about his need for control - his fear of not being able to command the other.
Estel's hand started to work at the fine clasps at the top of Legolas' tunic, seeking to go further with his still roaming tongue and it was all Legolas could do to keep himself at least partly under control. He was not going to render to this human; that was not the way it was meant to happen. Yet Estel had done more for him with a simple kiss - a touch of his tongue to his throat - then others had managed in an entire night. It was not right, and Legolas intended to put a halt to it once and for all. After all, had he not only just told himself that he was incapable of feeling; that he was only utilizing the human's little obsession to put himself at ease?
Using all the strength that he could possibly muster, Legolas wrapped a leg around Estel's and shoved upwards and to his left, his actions fueled on by the growing fear within him while ignoring the small whimper of protest as Estel's lips were torn from their current position. Straddling the human and pressing him in place, Legolas prepared to turn the tides of power in the right and favorable way when he did the unthinkable...
He looked into Estel's eyes.
Legolas froze. His heart stopped beating and his blood turned to ice. He swore that he could not breath as he looked down into those eyes that he had avoided since he first stepped foot in the room.
Estel was regarding him so oddly and with such confused emotions that Legolas' first thought was to run and never come back. The human seemed scared and yet confident; nervous and yet willing. They were such strange, conflicting emotions reflected in the depths of the human's eyes that Legolas actually found himself stopping and starting at the man with his own mixture of fear and uncertainty.
"You do not want this?" he asked quietly, his eyes now seemingly unable to look away from Estel's as he allowed the man the chance to choose his fate. "You want this to stop?"
He thought that he would have to wait forever, that he would see the battle within the man as Estel fought to make up his mind on the subject at hand, and yet, it hardly took a second for the human to reply in both words and actions.
Estel's arms wrapped around the Elf's waist, giving him a small and yet meaningful tug towards his face, the human also unwilling to look away from the Elf who had suddenly decided to grace him with his bright blue gaze. "Never." Estel whispered firmly once the prince's face was only a hairbreadth from his own. His other hand snaked its way up to burry the fingers in Legolas' hair and to gently rub the back of the Elf's neck while a cheeky smile crept upon Estel's face. "Though I would much rather we change positions..."
It was Legolas' turn to smile, his lips tauntingly parting as he slowly breathed out his reply. "Never."
The hand on the back of Legolas' head stretched out, gently removing the long curtain of golden hair from over the Elf's shoulder and revealing the left side of Legolas' pale neck. "We will see," Estel replied with a sly smile as he pulled the Elf down closer to him and allowed his lips to brush against the pale skin. Legolas saw stars as Estel whispered against his flesh, sending goosebumps racing across his skin. It was something that he had never felt in his entire lifetime and all too soon he felt his arms buckle at the sensation before he finally fell unceremoniously onto the human's chest. "We will definitely see about that..."
*****
To be continued...
*****
Next chapter preview:
"Why do you still refuse to understand? How can you be so blind to the real point? Last night was a mistake, Estel, a careless action on my part due to some questions that have been troubling my mind! I do not want you, Estel. I do not want to be with you, to render everything that I have to *you*! You mean nothing," Legolas yelled, his ears starting to colour in retrospect to his face.
Later on:
Parting from the shadows, Legolas slipped silently behind the figure and wrapped his left arm around the man's chest as he pointed his blade to the exposed throat. "Who are you and why have you been following me?" Legolas demanded, adding a small, threatening tug to his blade to emphasis his position of command.
*****
Response to reviews:
Kael Kalespel: Oh, he is an annoying little prick, isn't he? Lol, but wait and watch me pull the great old switch-a-roo and make you like him again soon...if that is possible! Yes, I too wondered what would happen if Estel won, but there was no way that I could actually see it happening...yes, I am biased...
Iara: Glad you liked Rolf - I am always really nervous bringing in my own characters - and the fight was quite delicious, wasn't it?
Rabbit of Iron: Ok, your Bond obsession scares me... but thank you anyway, even though I did have to sort through all the mental scaring that started to accumulate after you little description... ;)
Eddie Uwnhai: Once again thank you and I am glad that you are enjoying it, even through all the errors that you find!
Analia: You read it twice? Wow, I don't even think I read it that much! LOL! That's why Eddie up there *points up* always finds all my mistakes! Ok, so it told me ages to work out what you meant be 'rofl' but now I understand! Lol, but no, I did not get it from there. The character was *meant* to be really sneaky an such - like a wolf - so I changed it to Rolf...only after I started writing did I notice that the sneaky went flying out the window, kicked out by the comedy. Oh, I love writing about Legolas kicking arse, so I guess that it is lucky that you like it! ;) And about your computer picture thing...I hate to say it, but maybe you are going insane! LOL! Wow, you are really orientated towards Legolas' bed, aren't you? *Big grin* But oh, I so share your thoughts about him taking his clothes off...*may not be able to continue to reply as she is completely lost in drool worthy thoughts...* Bed...pants...make up your mind...Lol, but yes, don't you just hate Estel now?!?!?!?!?! Well, Estel and Legolas have gotten together now...or have they? And in regards to the others knowing about his other walks in life...well, you will just have to wait and find out! Thank you for your review, and I shall see you again next time!
Sirithiliel: *Is starting to think that she is converting people to Estel haters...* Oh, Rolf seems to be popular, but yes, it was time that there was a little dry humor and someone to make everything seem much worse then it is... Oh, I can see it now, Legolas pushing Estel down the stairs and then saying that he tripped over his boot laces...only to find that he does not have boot laces... Yes, I have far too many thoughts...lol.
Ivorybrowneyes: Elves are fun to make fight...they are so flexible! I am glad that your illness was nothing too serious - are you feeling better yet? But oh, I am like the queen of ear infections - I have really bad asthma, and this one time last year, I got a cold, which lead to asthma, an ear infection, whooping cough and that with my asthma made me cough that hard that the convolutions actually cracked a rib - it was the worst experience, and all cause of a little cold! But, cause I am so nice (HA!) I shall send you and Elladan clone, but keep your hands off my Elrohir who is obviously the hotter of the two identical twins that have never been shown...I have issues...
whispers of an angel: Maybe I should make Legolas go crazy...anyway, thanks for the review!
CareLess: I love the fact that Estel does not know how close to death he has come numerous times...if he only knew what Legolas could do... but yes, he definitely picked the wrong time to try and hit on the Elf! Hehehe, the fight scene was really fun to write...though hard to make myself not kill Estel! *Crazy grin* Lol! If you think that the writing is sarcastic, you should see me in real life...many years of dealing with people that I don't like and yet having to be civil teaches you a few things about sarcasm! Lol. Oh, beating Rolf's head against the wall, that sounds fun... and I am sorry that there was not much 'sarcasm - Minka style' in this chapter, but it does come back...and with vengeance! Lol.
n shute: As you said, each to their own and I am not going to hold your opinion against you. In fact, I am surprised that no one else has voiced his or her own thoughts on said subject.
Eeyaatoe: The 'pimp' idea was randomly pulled from the air one night when I was in a strange mood - but hey, it worked well...and you never really know what that Elf gets up to in his free time... Sadly, I do not think that Rolf will be coming back...at least not in this story, though, if all goes well, I have a few ideas for a sequel...but I am not saying any more about that yet! OH! As you just read, it happened a little differently this time, didn't it? Bet you weren't expecting it! *Eyes turn kinda crazy* One of your favorites? Why thank you, I feel honored!
Tainted Fortune: Yes, I also like showing Estel that, compared to Legolas, he is utterly inferior! Lol. The part with Legolas' arms moving on their own will, in a round about way, be further explained later. It was partly just his instincts to kill, but there is a little more to it then just that... And yes, you finally got to meet the mysterious stranger...
Silvertoekee: Yes, it would appear that Legolas' luck is running out - but that just means more fun for us! Rolf is...well, can I say 'Rolf'? Lol. But yes, I think he is slightly crazy...a little insane and with a death wish... And all your questions will be answered in due time...and oh, more arguments are assured!
Ihni: Alright, I pretty much covered all this when talking to you, so I shall be brief and try to cut these replies down a tad... this story is slash, but not 'oh I love you and lets us go skipping through the flowers.' Even the happenings of this chapter are not all that they seem and are definitely not ones of 'love'. Consider it ignored... Yes, I have a comic side occasionally...does not come out of hiding too much... I told you about Rolf and his current position in this story so I shall skip that... though I can not pass up on commenting on the 'Hollywood-action/comedies' idea! I guess you are right, though I never really thought of it like that. but a movie out of that scene - it would either be one of the shortest movies ever made or win a award for being the longest and most drawn out scene in history! LOL! But oh, I would love to have someone make something that I wrote into a movie - as long as they do not destroy it like they did things like Queen of the Damned and The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen... The scorpion kick was when he kicked Estel in the chin from over his shoulder...Trinity did it in the opening scene of the second Matrix movie. And even if Arafuck got this, he is still daft! LOL!
*****
*Pushes Legolas figure over and laughs evilly...* Umm, I would just like to say thank you to all of you for your lovely reviews - they are greatly appreciated!
Also, just on an updating note, there may be a slight delay (only a day or two) on the next chapter, as, as I am sure you all know, it is Halloween next week and that means great, all night party! And since I have a busy week this week, and then the party on the weekend, it may take me an extra few days to get the next chapter finished, though I think I am already close to having it done - will just need all the final touches. Anyway, I just thought that I would let you all know, so if you would excuse me, I shall go and torture the 'Helms Deep Legolas action figure' a little more! Lol!
Once again, any and all feedback is greatly appreciated but for now, I bid you all good-night!
Minka.
ANYWAY! Moving on. Here is the next chapter and again, be afraid, some of you more so then the others. There are some very 'un-Minka-ish' happenings in this chapter so consider yourself warned, though, I must say in my own defense, that there was no other way to set up the happenings of later on...but again, I am getting ahead of myself...
Oh, and just a word of warning: I was in a really feral mood when I wrote the battle scene to this chapter, and thus Legolas sort of goes all crazy- killer and it is a little bit of a blood bath...so yes, lots of violence this chapter even though the battle is only short.
So, without any more talk from me, let Legolas' slow spiral into darkness begin!
*****
The Thrill of the Chase
Chapter Seven
Phantoms of the Night (Black Velvet)
*****
Staring up at the manor with indifference, Legolas assessed the best way in which to enter unnoticed. It was a dull job really. Sneak in, make it look like an accident and sneak out; novice work and definitely nothing to get excited about.
Night had crept upon the land many hours ago, cloaking the world with her deep blackness in an usually swift manner.
It had been three days since Legolas left Rivendell under the guise of wanting to travel the forests and it was needless to say that the task of getting away had not been an easy one. Erestor, never one to disappoint, had been insistent on Legolas taking an escort with him, or, if he refused that, Erestor himself was set to come with him. Finally rending to the others wishes, Legolas had accepted the escort reluctantly which meant another day and night was spent in idleness while wandering the woods and listening to the chatter of the other Elves. Much to his chagrin, the Elf - whose name Legolas still did not know - who had been his dinner guest for the night of his arrival was one of those which volunteered to 'protect the Elven prince with his life as he reacquainted himself with the gardens of Rivendell'. Though a little Valerian in their water supply on the second night of their expedition saw he and the others pass out like drunken dwarves and Legolas heading out into the night on his own. He would surly have to explain himself when he returned to the Homely House, but he was sure that if he smiled enough, apologized profoundly and then gently laid the blame on Erestor insisting on the escort, there would be no harm done.
And so he was now standing at the edge of the forest which flanked the large manner of his next target and waiting for the moment that he would finally go into action.
Deciding that there was no better moment then the now, Legolas pulled his dark cloak around his shoulders, all the while being glad that he had left a good set of velvety black clothes in Rivendell on his last visit. 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.
He had this well planned, down to the very second and he would not let even a shadow pass without his consent and knowledge. He had spent the entirety of that day and the night before watching the house with intent interest, keeping tabs of the servants, one the visitors and the amount of people that left in relation to the number that entered. If he was not mistaken, a single dark-haired gentleman remained within the house along with the older man, although his purpose was one that Legolas could only guess at. The visitor did not seem to excrete any form of ranking in office, his clothes were simple and yet not to the extent of a commoner, and while he did present himself with a hint of grace, he was far from being of any notable birth. For all Legolas knew the man was simply a well dressed servant, a butler or, perhaps somewhat more saucy, a younger 'companion' for the aging man held up within the comforts of his house.
Either way, he did not seem to present himself as being too much trouble, and, even if he was handy with a weapon, Legolas was more then confident that he could take him.
It was with that in mind that Legolas slipped a slender finger into the narrow gap between his gauntlet, the soft leather of his gloves and his wrist, drawing out a long, thin sliver of mithril. Blowing at a strand of hair that fell in his face, Legolas crouched by the door, his eyes narrowing as he carefully and quietly inserted the shard of silvery metal into the lock. His lower lip disappearing as his teeth came to chew gently on the skin, Legolas wiggled the small rod, trying to keep his actions as quiet as possible.
Normally on such a small job, he would have opted for a case of breaking one of the windows and getting himself straight to the point. But this one called for a little more tack, though it was still well below his league. The man's death - Julkin's death - had to look like natural causes else the son would run the risk of having the transferal of the estate into his name put on pause due to investigation. Also, over the last day or two, Legolas had finally been able to think upon the seriousness of his current situation. If any signs of his handy work were to show up, then he would have anyone and everyone hot on his trail, trying to be the one to track him and take him down. While the idea of a few peasants with pitchforks did not worry him, the number of said fools did, especially if he were forced to leave a trail of corpses in his wake...
It was those two issues and those two issues alone that prevented him from kicking the door down, walking in and just slitting the man's throat.
Once again Legolas found himself cursing the Valar for doing all in their power to make his life hard.
One more flick of his wrist saw a third click emit from the lock and brought a smile to the Elf's lips. Hand reaching up, he turned the knob gently and found, much to his relief that the door swung open easily and quietly.
The feeling of being an intruder was one that Legolas was well and truly used to by now and, as callous as it sounded, he did not hold any regret for his breaking and entering. It was just a part of his job and something that needed to be done.
Legolas paused in his crouched position for a moment, allowing his eyes to adjust to the gloom within the house and to take in his surroundings.
The house, though large, was very basic in its layout, helping the Elf to navigate the rooms by a simple guess and check procedure. He had entered through the kitchen, so all rooms surrounding that would either be storage, dinning, parlours and rooms for the servants back in the day when the house would have been at its height. Legolas was to hazard a guess that through the main dinning hall and into the foyer at the front of the house, here would be a staircase which would lead upstairs and to the bedrooms - a guess that he soon proved to be correct.
Once up the stairs and standing on the narrow hall, each wall lined with doors and paintings, it was relatively easy to find Julkin's room - it being simply a matter of looking for the most ostentatious door and the signs of more frequent footfalls on the carpet. A few quick, silent steps down the hall and the softest click of the door lock was all it took for Legolas to be standing in the room of the deeply slumbering man, his plan well on its way to execution.
Approaching the bed silently, Legolas pulled out a small vial of poison from a pouch that lay strapped to his belt, hidden by the long folds of his black velvet cape. Poison held tightly in his gloved hand, Legolas concentrated on keeping his breathing low and hushed and his footsteps even lighter then what they usually were.
This was the tricky part; actually being able to get the poison within the man's mouth and down his throat without any spillage or sounds that could possibly wake up the servant and visitor who still remained in the lower rooms.
Pulling out a small coil of tightly spun yarn, Legolas firmly wrapped one end around his left hand and let the other dangle freely. Using his teeth to pull the cork out of the small carafe, he carefully moved his right hand so that the neck of the bottle was under the hanging cord before dipping the rope into the flask. Now it was simply a matter of a few moments while the rope absorbed the poison. It would work in a fashion similar to how a cloth, left half in a tub of water and half hanging over the ground would transfer some of the water from the tub to the floor through its fibers. All he had to do was wait until he could feel it soaking into his gloves and then position the end of the cord that was around his hand into the man's mouth, thus moving the poison along as the other end of the cord soaked up more.
See, the entire situation was tricky, but far from impossible.
Feeling the poison soak through his glove and wet his hand, Legolas knew that it was time to move before too much of the deadly liquid was wasted.
As he neared the bed, Legolas could not help but notice that the slumbering man's breathing was strangely erratic, coming in gasps too short for a peacefully sleeping man. Brushing it aside as a thing that happens to human's as they grew old, Legolas crouched down beside the head of his target.
Placing the bottle down and unwinding the string from his left hand, Legolas moved that end up to the man's face, aiming for the mouth.
What happened after that was completely unexpected...
The door burst open with a resounding bang loud enough to make the Elf jump and whirl around on his heels. Bottle of poison and his target all but forgotten, Legolas watched wide-eyed as five men trickled through the door, each and every one of them heavily armed. The man in front, obviously the leader, Legolas recognized right away as the man that he had seen come and go that morning; the one that had stayed in the house after most of the others retired to their own dwellings. For a moment, Legolas thought that he may have made too much noise and that he had woken the man's caretaker, but one look into those dark and cruel eyes, Legolas knew that he could not be further from the truth.
"Well, this is interesting..." the man said with a smile as he walked slowly forward. He looked the Elf up and down and, much to Legolas' disgust, the other quirked his eyebrows slightly as he licked his lips. Rolling his eyes, Legolas hardly paid attention to the man as he looked over the scene before them and eventually spoke again. "Nice technique; no poison on the lips, no toxin investigation."
"I see you know the ways of the trade," Legolas replied calmly, keeping the small talk going as he quickly started to assess the other men.
"I know you," the other corrected. At this Legolas merely scoffed and rose one eyebrow in challenge. There was no way that he knew this human - he tried to never forget a face as one never knows when an acquaintance from the past is about to stab you in the back.
"Oh, do not look so skeptical," the dark-haired man continued with a quick smile back at his men, "I - we, I should say, may not know your name, but we know you by actions and reputation."
"I am sure you do," Legolas replied, his eyes roaming over each of the men in an attempt to take stock of their weaponry. Unlike the men in Larnfield, these were more professional, better at concealing their weapons and their various strengths. All Legolas could truly make out was that they were well armed -with other implements then just the swords that they all held unsheathed - and were highly trained by the way they stood.
"Come now, I know most of your little secrets. I have been following in your footsteps for years!" the man proclaimed, as if his achievement was something to be boasted about. "Watching you strike, trying to work out how it is that you just disappear for years on end only to strike with more fury and deadly grace then your last outing. My employers have an entire file on you, though they are yet to be able to put a name to it. Care to share?"
Legolas just smiled.
"I guessed as much," the other continued, not at all put off by the slightly feral gleam in the Elf's eyes. "But I must say, it was quiet the interesting read; all the stuff that they have collected. The way you work, those that you have killed, the subtle and the high profile escapes alike. Even those you use and leave behind make nice editions to the numerous pages. You are like a hero to most of us, a legend that some claimed did not exist. "
"Well, I am glad that you enjoyed my life story," Legolas said with nothing but sarcasm in his voice, "but I have no care to hear yours, so I shall merely offer you the knowledge that after tonight, you shall have your own pages added to my file under the 'victims' section."
"Well, well, we are mighty sure of our self, aren't we?" the other mocked with a cruel twinkle in his eyes. He and Legolas just stared at each other, trying to assess the others weaknesses and strengths while the intensity of their glares also fought for dominance.
During this time, the man in the bed finally stirred and proved to be the only thing that could have possibly cut into the battle of wills that the human and Elf were engaged in. As his eyes slowly blinked open, he tried to focus on the strangers gathered in his private chambers. Slowly trying to push himself up into a sitting position, Legolas saw for the first time just how feeble the man truly was. Mortally was such a crippling thing to be cursed with.
"What's goin' on 'ere?" the man demanded, his voice hardly above a scratchy whisper although he tried to make himself sound tough.
The dark-haired man whirled into action at the sound of Julkin's voice. Pulling out a dagger, he quickly crossed the room and shoved the man back down. Julkin made a startled cry before gasping out something which sounded like the beginnings of a name before the assassin harshly drew the blade across the man's wrinkled throat, opening it up and allowing blood to flow onto the white sheets.
Legolas looked away, the gurgling in the human's throat being the last thing that he wanted to hear at the moment. Something about the way in which the man had been near death already almost made him sad; almost made him regret that the few years the man had left had been stolen in such a way.
"Oh come now, do not feign repulsion," the other said with disgust as he wiped the blade of his dagger on the man's shirt, cleaning it of the blood, "you were going to kill him anyway. I just saved you the hassle."
"If that was the true reason for your presence, then I would feel inclined to thank you for your help," Legolas said with a forced smile and a mocking bow, "But there is more to it then that, is there not? So let's skip the forced formality and get to the real reason before I lose interest."
"As you wish," the other said with a bow of his own. "Kill him!" he ordered his men.
Glad to finally have some way in which to release the tension that had been building up in him for the last couple of days, Legolas smiled as the four man came at him, swords and daggers brandished high. The first reached him before Legolas had even pulled out his dagger, and so, with a small chuckle to himself, Legolas kicked the man square in the face, sending him backwards in a stumble as blood poured from his shattered nose.
Deftly pulling his twin blades from behind his back, Legolas spun them once as he waited for the next human to approach. Acting swiftly, probably fasted then what the human could truly comprehended, Legolas crossed his wrists and slit the man's throat with both blades. Before the human fell, Legolas quickly crouched on one knee and slashed across the man's stomach with yet another scissor motion, before turning his right blade just in time to block a downward thrust from another attacker. Leaping back onto his feet, the Elf kicked the dying man over, the impact of his boot splashing blood from the deep wounds that crossed his stomach.
Whirling onto the next, a fanatical smile on his face, Legolas waited for the man to make the first move. When he did, a forceful swing of his sword right at the Elf's neck, Legolas merely ducked under the blow and moved forward. Locking eyes with the man whose nose he had broken, Legolas did not even look behind him and he reached down and slashed the ligaments in the others knees, effectively hamstringing him. Before the man behind him fell, Legolas swung his other blade back and cut a deep gash into the side of the man's throat, opening up half of his throat and causing a river of arterial-spray to flow out and splash against the nearby wall.
The man with the broken nose took a few quick paces back, his hand still covering his bleeding facial feature as his eyes reflected both his pain and utter horror as the Elf glared at him.
A small battle cry from Legolas' left alerted him to the approach of his next attacker, and, deciding to be a little different, he dropped both his bow-knives to the floor. As the man swung at him, Legolas ducked under the blow and sent the ball of his open palm smashing into the man's collar bone. The man gagged as his breath became constricted and stumbled further away from the Elf, his sword dropping to the ground as his hands flew to his throat. Leaning to his right slightly, Legolas sent a forceful kick into the man's chest before rushing at the other and backhanding him across the face. With the force of the hit and his protesting lungs, the human soon found himself leaning against the blood splattered wall for support while not being able to do anything as the Elf approached.
Fingers outstretched and held slightly back, Legolas let his gloved left hand fly towards the man's face, locking his palm over the man's nose and mouth. Shoving hard, he did not even watch as the assassin's head hit the wall. His body struggled and withered in vain as his hands shot up to wrap around the Elf's leather arm-guard though he remained trapped between the structure and the poison-soaked glove. As the man fought against the Elf's superior strength, Legolas reached to his lower back, pulling a small blade free. Gripping it by the tip of the blade, the prince threw it through the air with deadly accuracy, striking the man with the broken nose - who had been trying to flee the room - in the throat. Removing his hand from across the others face, Legolas watched as, as one, the two bodies fell, one with a gurgling scream as blood bubbled from his open throat and the other in a what appeared to be a dead faint, his body slackening as the poisonous fumes traveled through his system.
Brushing a stray strand of hair from his eyes, Legolas allowed his gaze to slowly float over to the leader who, throughout the battle, had remained on the opposite side of the bed.
"Next!" Legolas said with a raised eyebrow. "As it would seem that your men met with a small accident."
"So it would seem..." the dark-haired man said through tight lips. He was not at all impressed, after all, he had brought some of the best people under his command, and yet the Elf had just made messy work of them within a few moments.
His hand tightening around the hilt of his dagger until his knuckles went white, the man waited for a mere moment before launching the blade from his hand, aiming it right at Legolas' head.
The Elven assassin easily dodged the blade by simply reaching down and picking up one of his own discarded battle knives. Clutching it in his right hand, he merely offered the other man a small shake of his head. "First lesson," he breathed out, though hardly out of breath as the leader of the group charged at him from the other side of the room, "never attack in anger." He finished as he sidestepped the man's feeble thrust and brought his elbow down on the spot between the man's shoulder blades.
The dark-haired man stumbled for a moment before quickly righting himself and turning on his heels. "You are right," he hissed out, "for that rule momentarily fled from me." he admitted, before adding, "But it shan't happen again!"
This time, when he came at the Elf, he was far more prepared, more calculating with each and every stroke and actually offered Legolas what would resemble a challenge. With a long sword against the single Elven knife, Legolas found himself needing to press the tips of his fingers to the flat of the tip of his blade in order to keep his wrist from giving way under the pressure. Elven blades were strong and resilient, but even they had their weaknesses, and the ability for a sword thrust anywhere near the tip of the blade was one of them. It would open the user's defenses up by forcing the point to turn inwards to face the holder thus not only leaving the Elf's right side completely exposed, but also giving the sword a nice path to slide down and a good chance of hitting the left arm. That was why, under any normal circumstances, an Elven warrior would fight with the twin knives as they covered both sides of the body and could easily reflect a blow with a mere cross of the blades.
Another forceful blow had Legolas raising his knife above his head, his fingers pressed to the very tip of the blade to avoid coming into contact with the razor sharp edge of the others weapon. A quick kick to the man's side broke the power struggle and Legolas found it easy to leap out of the way of the now down-coming sword.
One of the man's hands left the hilt of his blade and came to cradle his side, suggesting that Legolas' kick had been far more effective then he thought and had perhaps cracked a rib. Seeing his opportunity, Legolas took a step backwards and quickly spun his blade again.
"Second lesson," he said as he threw the knife into the air only to catch it in a different hold. "Never..." he continued while flicking his wrist and sending the sliver of the knife twirling through the air, "...take your eyes..." Once again throwing the knife into the air, Legolas swiftly applied another kick to the winded man's stomach before he caught his bow- knife. Spinning it over his arm to hold it behind his back, he skillfully threw it from his right hand to his left before taking a large step forward while swinging the dagger in a wide arch, its path ending as it buried itself in between the man's ribs of his left side. "...off an Elf's blade." Legolas finished as he pulled his weapon from the man's side.
The leader of the group looked completely stunned as he dropped his sword, favoring the use of the other hand to hold his heavily bleeding side. His face contorted in pain as blood ran swiftly through his fingers, falling like a waterfall onto the carpet below him and pooling out as the fibers could soak up no more.
Legolas watched in silence, his blood covered blade still clasped tightly in his hand. He did not quite know what to make of what had just happened in the room. The men had been a threat, people out to claim that ridiculously large reward just like what he knew would happen, and yet, looking around him, he was almost disgusted. While the old man, lying dead in his once white sheets now stained red with his own blood had not been his fault, the rest of it had. The carpet was starting to fill with red and was to the point that Legolas was sure that it would squelch if trodden on. Many places on the wall were splattered with the thick red substance which was now surrendering to gravity, slowly rolling down the smooth walls in gooey, viscous streams. Man lay all about the room, large, ugly wounds gleaming in the near dark as even more of their life-blood seeped from the jagged tears in their flesh. And still the leader knelt, looking up at him in terror and pain as his side continued to bleed and stain his fingers crimson.
Legolas felt like dropping his knife and retching at the sight before his eyes and the smell that assaulted his nose - at the massacre that he himself had created. None of the deaths had been clean, none swift like he always promised himself he would make them. It was a barging that he had long held with his conscience: it would not interfere if he did not make any of them suffer beyond their own sins. But not this time. This time he had fully lost control, he had surrendered everything to those murderous impulses which boiled just below the surface. Those that he could still feel there with disturbing clarity. His actions and butchery had added fuel to the already burning feelings within him, given them the power that he had always tried to suppress and keep separate and it was with a slight hint of terror that he knew that now, since he had allowed himself to completely disappear within that deep haze that came whenever he allowed his impulses to take over, he would never be rid of them. Never be able to keep that blood-lust from entering his veins and clouding his mind again.
"Please?" the chocked plea of the man before him brought Legolas slamming back to the world of the present. Realizing that the man was still alive, if only just, and what it was that the man asked, Legolas nodded his head slightly and blinked his eyes clear. His teeth sinking slowly into his bottom lip, Legolas righted himself and tightened his grip on his dagger.
It was with his eyes partly closed that Legolas sunk the blade halfway to the hilt into the man's chest, knowing that it would kill him within moments. Sighing loudly, Legolas casually yanked his blade free of the man's stomach and watched as the dark-haired man fell backwards, telling himself that watching the man die would act as a deterrent and prevent anything like that happening again.
"And your last lesson," Legolas said almost solemnly, knowing full well that the dying man could hear him. "Just because you follow someone, or you read all about them does not mean that you are experienced enough to take them on. And it does not mean that you should want to be like them out of some twisted form of 'hero worship'. 'Tis just a shame that you learnt that too late." The Elf added as he literally saw the life drain from the human. His face went slack, his hands flopped to the ground and his last movement was his eyes flittering closed as a pool of blood threatened to swallow him and the floor alike.
For a moment Legolas just looked around the room and stared.
That presence of the dark-haired man disturbed him more then he cared to admit. It was obvious that Julkin's gentlemen caller was well known and familiar to all who worked the house and grounds, so it could easily be said that he was a long time acquaintance.
They were after him, there was no doubt about that, which meant that they had to have been tipped off by someone and a long time ago. If the dark- haired man was well known, then this very incident had to have been planned for some time by someone who knew of the price on his head before hand. That meant that the entire thing had been staged, even Rolf being told of the job for Legolas had been pre-planned - that also meant that they knew about Rolf...
Grunting in utter frustration, Legolas moved across the room to one of the less hacked at humans and knelt down next to him. Rolling him over, he saw that there was nothing special about the way he dressed, he held nothing of importance and his blade was completely different from each and every other one in the room - matching blades being one of the main signs of allegiance to a certain group. Legolas was just about to stand when a flash of silver on the man's index finger caught his eye.
"The Order of Tercutkus," Legolas said to himself, chastising himself for not thinking of it sooner as he slipped the ring from the finger, knowing the craftsmanship and style of the ring as soon as he saw it. The ring was crafted of twists of silver and gold entwining around a drop shaped ruby of the deepest red - the sign of spilt blood. Turing the silver and gold loop over and over in his hands, Legolas purged his lips together and glanced around the room.
He should have known the moment that they stepped into the room; the moment that the leader said they had a file on him; the moment that he fought the men who were greatly skilled for humans even if they did not last long in battle. He should have known...
The Order of Tercutkus were a fearsome group of assassins, specializing only in the most deadly of tasks and in taking down the hardest of targets. They had a reputation that succeeded even Legolas', though most people merely thought the band a myth. They were never seen, never heard and never caught. Deadly as wargs and yet silent and swift like shadows; they were a force to be reckoned with and one that seemed to slip in and out of knowledge.
Only once before had Legolas had dealings with the Order. It had been many years ago, when he was only getting used to the new life that he had designated for himself and when he was not half as accomplished and skilled as he was now. He and a member of the Order had been after the same target, both unawares of the other hunter. As it was, they only found out about each other in the very room of the intended victim, Legolas arriving only moments after his unknown rival had taken the kill. Both must had thought the other to be a threat as, within a moment, they were both locked into a deadly battle around the man's chambers - a battle that Legolas was lucky to escape from with is life. Needless to say that the delegate of Tercutkus vanished without a trace and with hardly a scratch on him.
Yet as Legolas had just shown, times had changed. He was no longer the slightly meek novice that had been cursed with having a run in with the Order. Now he was the power in these parts and judging by the number of bodies, the Order knew it.
Whoever it was that was after his head was obviously not afraid of playing with fire; mercenaries, swords for hire, and now the Order of Tercutkus... they were big stakes to let loose, the later reserved only for when all else failed. Now, if not before, it was clearly obvious that this person who had put the two thousand gold pieces on his head meant business.
But who was it?
He had had the pleasure of aggravating many a person in his lifetime, so it was not a simple case of picking the most likely. It could even be someone from years back, having spent all this time waiting for the right moment and a time in which no blame could be put upon them. A grudge long forgotten, a revenge attempt from some disgruntled family member, or even a political plot that involved his father. After all, it had not said that he was an assassin on the flyer. It had been naught but his face and the offered amount, no mention of the fact that he was even royalty.
It honestly could be anyone.
But the Order of Tercutkus? They were not cheap and not easy to find meaning that the person was of obvious wealth and knew a great deal of less then reputable contacts.
The idea plagued his mind, swept all thoughts free save for the ones in regards to the deceased bodies that lay spread about him. They had known that he would be here. But how? He had been as careful as always, maybe even more so due to the knowledge that he had a price on his head. It had to have been staged from the word go; for months. Right back to when Rolf was informed of the job and, given his habit of being easily sidetracked, it would have taken him quite some time to track Legolas down and deliver the message. So he had a pretty good idea on how it had been set up, but more importantly, did they know where he had come from?
For once he was lost, utterly and truly alone. He had neither the supplies nor the equipment to make an escape out into the wild for any amount of time, but at the same time, what if the assassins knew where he had come from? He would risk leading them right back to Rivendell if he returned. And he was too far from home and with winter starting to set in, he would not make it to the high pass above Rivendell before it snowed over.
He had no choice, he had to go back to Rivendell and face both Erestor's questioning and his conscience there. The thought made him shudder, wanting nothing more then to be on his own for a time the idea of going back to the crowded Homely House was one that did not appear all too appealing.
But then, at the same time, for some reason he felt as if it may do him good. At the beginning of the fight, all he had thought about was ridding himself of that mounting tension, and yet, now, with the battle past and nothing but the mess left behind, he found that he felt even worse then before. His shoulder still pained which was an endless source of annoyance, and, even more infuriating, he could not seem to shake the thought of Estel, of that infuriating human who was the bane of his existence in Rivendell from his mind.
Rolling his shoulders and rotating his neck, Legolas found himself half moaning and half gasping in pain at his tight muscles. He was far too tense, the tightness of his shoulders getting to the point where it would hinder his movement and cause his life to be at risk within a fight. He had to find some way to rid both his mind and body of this constant rigidity.
Arching his back and stretching his arms out behind him, a small smile played upon the Elf's face. He was sure he had just the cure...
*****
The way he moved, it was a sin, so sweet and true.
Always wanting more, he'd leave you longing for...
Black velvet and that little boy's smile
Black velvet with that slow southern style
A new religion that'll bring you to your knees
Black velvet if you please
*****
Two days later...
*****
The door mocked him. Laughed in his face as he stood there, the toes of his boots highlighted by the soft glow of candles that streamed out from under the gap between the door and the floor. The light, that which he had always loved, always felt safe when surrounded by it, made Legolas feel as if his feet were on fire. Its imaginary flames scorched more then just his leather boots; it seared his soul and burnt itself onto his memory.
No matter how long he lived, he was sure that he would always remember the sight before him. The tall leering door, the soft, gentle light and the stranger cloaked in darkness that stood at the entrance, fearing what may lie within both the room and himself if he entered.
It was madness, utter foolishness to feel such a way, and he knew it.
With a deep breath Legolas reached forward, his gloved hand tentatively touching the crafted knob of the door in a way that would seem he feared it would bit him. A small flick of the wrist saw the door swing open and Legolas walking into the room, all the while trying to ignore the voice in his head that told him to turn around and leave now.
The sound of his door opening alerted Estel to a visitor - one that had obviously never heard of knocking - and he instantly folded the piece of parchment that he was writing on and quickly tucked it into the concealments of his desk drawer, slowly turning as he did so.
"Legolas?" Estel asked once his eyes fell on the other. The prince was the last person that Estel had thought to be the unannounced visitor; in fact, the young human did not even know that Legolas knew where his room was.
Rising from his chair, Estel made his way slowly over to the Elf who, for some unknown reason, refused to meet his gaze. He made his steps loud and sure, seeing that the Elf seemed to be in some form of light daze, and yet he made sure that he kept as much distance between them as possible. The last thing that he wanted was a repeat of the happenings of the last time that he saw Legolas, and the truthfulness of the situation was that he was not entire sure he could trust that the prince was not here to bring up old riffs.
Estel had not seen the other in days but the memory of the look in Legolas' eyes as they fought was still fresh in his mind. For the last five to six days he had gone out of his way to avoid any and all places that Legolas might have been, not wanting to irate the Elf any further and hoping that all could be forgotten in time. After all, he may have had a bad experience (or two) but he was far from giving up on his attempt in wooing the Elf. Legolas just needed some time to cool off, to find out more on Estel and be assured that the human would do naught to hurt him and Estel was more then willing to allow the other as much time as he needed before he once again gave pursuit.
Yet none of that stood to explain why Legolas was currently standing in his room, looking tired and weary in his dark clothing and back velvet cloak with his eyes locked on the floor.
Legolas looked tired beyond belief; worn out and spent. His eyes, from the small view that Estel had access to, were partly closed and ringed darkly. His mouth drawn tight and his hair in what could only be called disarray, Legolas looked as if he had trekked halfway across Middle-Earth with a band on Orcs on his tail. He constantly moved his right shoulder, rotating it ever so slightly as he stood with his hands clasped in front of him. With a small smile, Estel could not help but think that Legolas looked so young, so venerable at that very moment and the human knew that there was nothing he would not give to be able to try and comfort the Elf.
But before that could happen he had to first find out what was wrong and secondly, show Legolas that he could be trusted. Both which, if Estel knew as much about Mirkwood's prince as he thought he did, would be very hard to do.
"Legolas? Are you all right?" he decided to start simple, moving forward with his head down and shoulder bent, trying to see in through and under that cascade of golden hair. When it was once again painfully obvious that Legolas was not about to lift his gaze from the floor, Estel once again spoke as he moved his face closer, peering at the silent Elf with worry. "What is wrong?"
That voice. It was like a toxin, a poison racing through his body causing it to react in ways that he could not possibly comprehend. Legolas' heart raced and his pulse quickened, his hands, had they not been so tightly clasped together, would have begun to tremble...and all because of the human's voice. Scrunching his eyes together, Legolas just wanted to hear the man speak more...or shut up entirely.
He was a wreck, he knew that. He neither looked presentable nor was in a stable enough frame of mind to be eloquent, let alone speak. At least he had had the sense to clean himself up after the blotched job at the manner, removing all traces of blood and poison from his clothes, hair and skin. It would have been poor judgment to come here like that, even for his current state. Any and all confidence that he had held in his plan at the house had been shot down once he came to stand in front of the human's door on the very night of his arrival. He had only taken the time to drop his supplies in his room before coming here, at that point in time still being utterly sure that he could find the release that he needed in the young human. But now...
"Legolas?"
"Nothing..." Legolas finally said dismissively and with a small shake of his head. The words did not even sound as if they had come from his own lips; they seemed hollow, distant and filled with something that he could not identify, something that he did not like to hear. "I...it is nothing," he added with a little more confidence to his tone though his eyes never strayed from the floor. "I should go. Sorry for disturbing you."
Utterly shocked at not only Legolas' sudden decision to speak, but also at the completely out of character apology, Estel could do naught but stand there and frown as the Elf turned silently and made his way towards the door. Taking only a mere moment to sort his confusing feelings out, Estel made a dash for the Elf as he called his name while attempting to catch his arm before he walked out of his sight yet again.
Legolas stopped mid-stride, Estel's hand on his arm and his name still floating on the air. The way Estel spoke his name; the feeling of warmth as the human's hand clasped around his shoulder was enough to send all thoughts from Legolas' head while yet still allowing him to be completely confused.
Doing what he always did, what he had been trained to do, Legolas allowed his impulses to take over and spur him into a line of action.
As the Elf spun and pushed him back, Estel was sure that he had once again overstepped the fuzzy boundaries which existed between him and the Elf. He was prepared for anything, whatever Legolas was about to do, he would try to be compliant else risk pushing the prince further away with his resistance. If Legolas needed to remind Estel to keep his hands to himself, then so be it and Estel would do as he wished...for awhile at least.
The two of them stumbled for awhile, Legolas driving forward as Estel struggled to keep his steps quick and steady as he was pushed backwards. His back finally pressing against the far wall, Estel saw Legolas move his face in closer to his, a look which Estel guessed to be a snarl spreading across his lips. Mentally preparing himself for whatever the Elf had to throw at him, Estel kept his face clam and relaxed as he regarded the Elf.
The sudden warmth of Legolas' lips against his own caught the human completely off guard, freezing him in place against the wall with the Elf pressed tightly against him. He was sure he had slipped into some from of trance - perhaps Legolas had knocked him out and this was just a figment of his imagination - for Legolas could not truly be kissing him.
Legolas could feel the human tense against him, his muscles go taut in a feeling that he was utterly unsure of - was it fear, shock, terror, longing?
How could he tell?
His eyes, all Legolas had to do was look into Estel's eyes and he would know why he had reacted such, and yet, he could not bring himself to do it. Within that split second of contemplation, Legolas knew that no matter how much he wanted to or how hard he tried, he could not look the man square in the eyes. Not like this...not after this...
It had been that way since he entered the room, his heart and mind troubled beyond belief. Something had made him come here; something had told him how to react and, even now, told him to kiss the man pinned to the wall. From the moment that he saw the light under Estel's door, Legolas had been subconsciously telling himself that it meant nothing, that he was just stressed, tense and even scared, and that Estel would be like the string of others that Legolas had left defeated and heart broken in his wake. Even now he believed that: there was no other reason for this, nothing that could be seen as deep and meaningful. It was only Legolas finally satisfying those undeniable urges that had stirred within him after his actions with Sard in Larnfield.
Indeed it was unfortunate that it was Estel this time as Legolas knew it would hurt the man more deeply then any of his past 'acquaintances' but it could not be helped. Legolas could not control who was in Rivendell at the time nor could he pick and chose who would actually be able to make him feel something other then the need for excitement and the want for adventure. It was not his fault that Estel actually made him feel like anything more then a heartless assassin or a trophy to be placed upon a pedestal; nothing more then a pretty trinket to be looked at and patted, protected and worshiped.
It was like any of his jobs: a hit and run. Dominate and leave behind. Use and then break all contact so that none could get close. It was the way it had always been and the way that it always would be. Estel was merely another pawn in his life, another piece for Legolas to move about his board as he progressed through what he saw as a game of cat and mouse.
After all, the man would get over it. Once Legolas was gone, Estel would never again lay eyes on him in the human's short lifespan. Chances are Estel would find some nice Elven girl to settle down with - someone who liked to be treated like a treasure, who liked to be pampered and kissed, loved and cherished; someone who was willing to be part of the humans life and forfeit their independence. So it was all for the best - for both of them. Legolas was saved from having to remain so tightly strung while not having to look in any places too uncomfortable for relief while Estel would get a taste of what he thought he wanted and thus be shown that Legolas really wasn't the type for him.
It was a win-win situation!
Then why could Legolas not look the man in the eyes?
Forcing any and all thoughts from his head, Legolas pressed himself closer to the human, wanting to feel every reaction that Estel had, every flinch or tremor - anything and everything that he could.
He had long given up on the foolish idea that he could feel anything more then the fast pace of his heart when in fear or the reddening of his ears and cheeks when angry, so he wanted to hold onto the human, leaching his reactions and feelings from him like a bloodsucking leech.
For the time being Estel was not doing anything, just standing there as Legolas attacked his mouth and kept him pinned to the wall. Estel's failure to respond got to such a level that Legolas was sure something was wrong. Maybe he had read the human wrong - but that was impossible, wasn't it? Estel had kissed him, had followed him around and made preposterous declarations of 'feeling' things. Why did he not respond?
A pair of arms snaking around Legolas' waist took him slightly by surprise and he prepared himself to be shoved back, having already determined that he had made a grave mistake. Only, the total opposite occurred. Estel gripped at Legolas' waist and hips, drawing him closer as he finally dropped his head to better capture Legolas' searching mouth.
Legolas could feel the slight unease in the human slipping away with each and every time their lips moved; with each time their tongues brushed. Within a moment, Estel's arms were so tightly wrapped around Legolas that the Elf feared he would never be able to get out of the embrace and that he would be slowly squeezed to death.
Slowly wiggling in the grasp, Legolas managed to get his point across to the human who thankfully allowed his grasp to loosen and Legolas to once again be able to breathe as their lips finally parted. Sure that Estel knew of the fact that Legolas was in charge, the Elf felt no need to speak as he once again latched onto the human's lips, careful to never allow his eyes to lock with those of Estel's.
Legolas was about to pull the human towards the bed when, before he knew it, he found that Estel's hands had roamed further then what he thought. The human grabbed hold of the back of his thighs, pulling the Elf's legs up as he lent his head back. Legolas arms' having been wrapped around the man's neck, only helped Estel in achieving his goal of pulling the prince right against him and forcing Legolas to wrap his legs around the young man's waist in order to keep their balance.
Legolas was more then a little put off by this shift in power, especially as Estel started leading them towards the bed in a fashion which suggested that Estel thought he was in control. No one had ever dared to do such a thing before, none ever having the audacity and the courage to do something without Legolas' permission. Normally they bent to his will, gave what was expected and received what was given, knowing full well that it was Legolas calling the shots.
Estel? Well, he seemed to have a mind and agenda of his own as he carefully yet awkwardly dropped Legolas onto the soft bed before crawling up on there himself. Reaching out quickly, he secured the Elf - who was already trying to regain control of the situation - on his back, Estel's weight holding him easily in place as the human lay out on top of him. Legolas was about to voice his protest; ready to tell this overconfident human how these things worked when Estel's lips latched onto his throat, sucking and nibbling gently at the pale skin while making the Elf not only let out a small moan, but also decide that there was no harm in allowing Estel his small moment of control.
As Estel's tongue dipped into the hollow of Legolas' throat, Legolas felt his back arch on its own accord, just as an unchecked moan passed his lips. He had never felt such a thing, never had his skin tingle with such pleasurable fire at such a simple touch. It was riveting, remarkable, utterly mind-blowing, and what's more, it made him want to forget about everything else. About his life, about the fact that he was merely using the young man and about his need for control - his fear of not being able to command the other.
Estel's hand started to work at the fine clasps at the top of Legolas' tunic, seeking to go further with his still roaming tongue and it was all Legolas could do to keep himself at least partly under control. He was not going to render to this human; that was not the way it was meant to happen. Yet Estel had done more for him with a simple kiss - a touch of his tongue to his throat - then others had managed in an entire night. It was not right, and Legolas intended to put a halt to it once and for all. After all, had he not only just told himself that he was incapable of feeling; that he was only utilizing the human's little obsession to put himself at ease?
Using all the strength that he could possibly muster, Legolas wrapped a leg around Estel's and shoved upwards and to his left, his actions fueled on by the growing fear within him while ignoring the small whimper of protest as Estel's lips were torn from their current position. Straddling the human and pressing him in place, Legolas prepared to turn the tides of power in the right and favorable way when he did the unthinkable...
He looked into Estel's eyes.
Legolas froze. His heart stopped beating and his blood turned to ice. He swore that he could not breath as he looked down into those eyes that he had avoided since he first stepped foot in the room.
Estel was regarding him so oddly and with such confused emotions that Legolas' first thought was to run and never come back. The human seemed scared and yet confident; nervous and yet willing. They were such strange, conflicting emotions reflected in the depths of the human's eyes that Legolas actually found himself stopping and starting at the man with his own mixture of fear and uncertainty.
"You do not want this?" he asked quietly, his eyes now seemingly unable to look away from Estel's as he allowed the man the chance to choose his fate. "You want this to stop?"
He thought that he would have to wait forever, that he would see the battle within the man as Estel fought to make up his mind on the subject at hand, and yet, it hardly took a second for the human to reply in both words and actions.
Estel's arms wrapped around the Elf's waist, giving him a small and yet meaningful tug towards his face, the human also unwilling to look away from the Elf who had suddenly decided to grace him with his bright blue gaze. "Never." Estel whispered firmly once the prince's face was only a hairbreadth from his own. His other hand snaked its way up to burry the fingers in Legolas' hair and to gently rub the back of the Elf's neck while a cheeky smile crept upon Estel's face. "Though I would much rather we change positions..."
It was Legolas' turn to smile, his lips tauntingly parting as he slowly breathed out his reply. "Never."
The hand on the back of Legolas' head stretched out, gently removing the long curtain of golden hair from over the Elf's shoulder and revealing the left side of Legolas' pale neck. "We will see," Estel replied with a sly smile as he pulled the Elf down closer to him and allowed his lips to brush against the pale skin. Legolas saw stars as Estel whispered against his flesh, sending goosebumps racing across his skin. It was something that he had never felt in his entire lifetime and all too soon he felt his arms buckle at the sensation before he finally fell unceremoniously onto the human's chest. "We will definitely see about that..."
*****
To be continued...
*****
Next chapter preview:
"Why do you still refuse to understand? How can you be so blind to the real point? Last night was a mistake, Estel, a careless action on my part due to some questions that have been troubling my mind! I do not want you, Estel. I do not want to be with you, to render everything that I have to *you*! You mean nothing," Legolas yelled, his ears starting to colour in retrospect to his face.
Later on:
Parting from the shadows, Legolas slipped silently behind the figure and wrapped his left arm around the man's chest as he pointed his blade to the exposed throat. "Who are you and why have you been following me?" Legolas demanded, adding a small, threatening tug to his blade to emphasis his position of command.
*****
Response to reviews:
Kael Kalespel: Oh, he is an annoying little prick, isn't he? Lol, but wait and watch me pull the great old switch-a-roo and make you like him again soon...if that is possible! Yes, I too wondered what would happen if Estel won, but there was no way that I could actually see it happening...yes, I am biased...
Iara: Glad you liked Rolf - I am always really nervous bringing in my own characters - and the fight was quite delicious, wasn't it?
Rabbit of Iron: Ok, your Bond obsession scares me... but thank you anyway, even though I did have to sort through all the mental scaring that started to accumulate after you little description... ;)
Eddie Uwnhai: Once again thank you and I am glad that you are enjoying it, even through all the errors that you find!
Analia: You read it twice? Wow, I don't even think I read it that much! LOL! That's why Eddie up there *points up* always finds all my mistakes! Ok, so it told me ages to work out what you meant be 'rofl' but now I understand! Lol, but no, I did not get it from there. The character was *meant* to be really sneaky an such - like a wolf - so I changed it to Rolf...only after I started writing did I notice that the sneaky went flying out the window, kicked out by the comedy. Oh, I love writing about Legolas kicking arse, so I guess that it is lucky that you like it! ;) And about your computer picture thing...I hate to say it, but maybe you are going insane! LOL! Wow, you are really orientated towards Legolas' bed, aren't you? *Big grin* But oh, I so share your thoughts about him taking his clothes off...*may not be able to continue to reply as she is completely lost in drool worthy thoughts...* Bed...pants...make up your mind...Lol, but yes, don't you just hate Estel now?!?!?!?!?! Well, Estel and Legolas have gotten together now...or have they? And in regards to the others knowing about his other walks in life...well, you will just have to wait and find out! Thank you for your review, and I shall see you again next time!
Sirithiliel: *Is starting to think that she is converting people to Estel haters...* Oh, Rolf seems to be popular, but yes, it was time that there was a little dry humor and someone to make everything seem much worse then it is... Oh, I can see it now, Legolas pushing Estel down the stairs and then saying that he tripped over his boot laces...only to find that he does not have boot laces... Yes, I have far too many thoughts...lol.
Ivorybrowneyes: Elves are fun to make fight...they are so flexible! I am glad that your illness was nothing too serious - are you feeling better yet? But oh, I am like the queen of ear infections - I have really bad asthma, and this one time last year, I got a cold, which lead to asthma, an ear infection, whooping cough and that with my asthma made me cough that hard that the convolutions actually cracked a rib - it was the worst experience, and all cause of a little cold! But, cause I am so nice (HA!) I shall send you and Elladan clone, but keep your hands off my Elrohir who is obviously the hotter of the two identical twins that have never been shown...I have issues...
whispers of an angel: Maybe I should make Legolas go crazy...anyway, thanks for the review!
CareLess: I love the fact that Estel does not know how close to death he has come numerous times...if he only knew what Legolas could do... but yes, he definitely picked the wrong time to try and hit on the Elf! Hehehe, the fight scene was really fun to write...though hard to make myself not kill Estel! *Crazy grin* Lol! If you think that the writing is sarcastic, you should see me in real life...many years of dealing with people that I don't like and yet having to be civil teaches you a few things about sarcasm! Lol. Oh, beating Rolf's head against the wall, that sounds fun... and I am sorry that there was not much 'sarcasm - Minka style' in this chapter, but it does come back...and with vengeance! Lol.
n shute: As you said, each to their own and I am not going to hold your opinion against you. In fact, I am surprised that no one else has voiced his or her own thoughts on said subject.
Eeyaatoe: The 'pimp' idea was randomly pulled from the air one night when I was in a strange mood - but hey, it worked well...and you never really know what that Elf gets up to in his free time... Sadly, I do not think that Rolf will be coming back...at least not in this story, though, if all goes well, I have a few ideas for a sequel...but I am not saying any more about that yet! OH! As you just read, it happened a little differently this time, didn't it? Bet you weren't expecting it! *Eyes turn kinda crazy* One of your favorites? Why thank you, I feel honored!
Tainted Fortune: Yes, I also like showing Estel that, compared to Legolas, he is utterly inferior! Lol. The part with Legolas' arms moving on their own will, in a round about way, be further explained later. It was partly just his instincts to kill, but there is a little more to it then just that... And yes, you finally got to meet the mysterious stranger...
Silvertoekee: Yes, it would appear that Legolas' luck is running out - but that just means more fun for us! Rolf is...well, can I say 'Rolf'? Lol. But yes, I think he is slightly crazy...a little insane and with a death wish... And all your questions will be answered in due time...and oh, more arguments are assured!
Ihni: Alright, I pretty much covered all this when talking to you, so I shall be brief and try to cut these replies down a tad... this story is slash, but not 'oh I love you and lets us go skipping through the flowers.' Even the happenings of this chapter are not all that they seem and are definitely not ones of 'love'. Consider it ignored... Yes, I have a comic side occasionally...does not come out of hiding too much... I told you about Rolf and his current position in this story so I shall skip that... though I can not pass up on commenting on the 'Hollywood-action/comedies' idea! I guess you are right, though I never really thought of it like that. but a movie out of that scene - it would either be one of the shortest movies ever made or win a award for being the longest and most drawn out scene in history! LOL! But oh, I would love to have someone make something that I wrote into a movie - as long as they do not destroy it like they did things like Queen of the Damned and The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen... The scorpion kick was when he kicked Estel in the chin from over his shoulder...Trinity did it in the opening scene of the second Matrix movie. And even if Arafuck got this, he is still daft! LOL!
*****
*Pushes Legolas figure over and laughs evilly...* Umm, I would just like to say thank you to all of you for your lovely reviews - they are greatly appreciated!
Also, just on an updating note, there may be a slight delay (only a day or two) on the next chapter, as, as I am sure you all know, it is Halloween next week and that means great, all night party! And since I have a busy week this week, and then the party on the weekend, it may take me an extra few days to get the next chapter finished, though I think I am already close to having it done - will just need all the final touches. Anyway, I just thought that I would let you all know, so if you would excuse me, I shall go and torture the 'Helms Deep Legolas action figure' a little more! Lol!
Once again, any and all feedback is greatly appreciated but for now, I bid you all good-night!
Minka.