Disclaimer: Bugger off, it's not mine.
AN: Heh heh heh , oops. Yeah I've read like perhaps 20 pages into the book Silmarillion by J. R.R. Tolkein and I've already figured out that I've pretty much screwed up on a bunch of stuff. But that's okay! Because. . . well I don't know why, but it just is! :D
Reviews:
My Arwen: Partly. Your just gonna have to read to find out though aren't you. :D Thanx for the review.
Elfaer: Thanx for your review. I got so many this chapter, it makes me happy. :D
Cherryfizz: You find out in this chapter what Iluvatar said to him in private. :D That's why he's leaving her.
Doyle: Yay, I knew I could count on you! :D lol. It's good to hear your still reading after the horribleness of chapter 15. :D
Nelinde: :D:D:D:D:D:D I looooooooooove reviews. :D lol. Thanx for your, but your just gonna have to read this to find out what's wrong with him.
Okay that's it for now. :D Oh and for any of you that are wondering, yes, I know there is something wrong with the first two chapter. I've spent hours trying to fix it but the only option I can see is taking the whole story off and then uploading it again. And I'd hate to do that because then I'd lose all of your wonderful reviews. :( So yeah. If your reading the first chapter or if they were screwed up when you read them, I'm sorry but your just gonna have to live with it.
Three years had passed since that fateful night in the woods beyond Minas Tirith. When the prince had returned, many Elves had noticed the change in Legolas' behavior. He was less open and tended to keep to himself more than he had before he had left. Often the Elves of Mirkwood would see their prince sitting silently in a the tall branches of a tree, looking sadly to the South.
He rarely slept, and the lack of rest was showing in his face. His strength was weakening because, even rarer than sleep, did he eat. He was less than a shadow of the man that had left to Rivendell four years before. His wounds had never healed, his heart was broken and the injuries he had sustained in Valinor had never been properly treated.
He had spoken to no one of the love he had briefly had in the wilds of Gondor and Rohan. He'd brood on it though, for that was what he thought about while up in the trees. What would have happened had he not said those cruel words to her in the forest? What would have happened should he have asked for her hand and she accepted? Would the evils of Mirkwood be somehow undone? Yet the words of her father still burned in his mind and he would not cause that wrath upon all those he loved.
His father was more than worried, he knew, but yet he still could not pull himself from his depression. He remembered the sight of her, half dead from grieving his supposed death, and he could not bring himself to look into the mirror, to gaze at the monster that had betrayed her trust, and destroyed her ability to love.
The guilt of it washed over him every day, and his constantly wished that he had not been sent back to Middle-Earth to live again, but that he could have perished from the torture of the Varya. Yet that was not so, and now he lived in the Dark Wood and wandered in both night and day, hardly able to live with himself.
Honora had wandered, she had freed Anarvende of her service, though the mare had insisted it had been of her own choice, and she wandered on foot through the lands of Middle-Earth.
It had been nearly a week since her last meal as she walked through a dense dark forest. The sun barely filtered through the leaves above and there seemed to be a tension throughout the wood. Fangorn, she thought to herself.
There had been a trail for her to follow, but she had veered off of it, not wanting to be found. She was nowhere near as sociable as she had once been and indeed it had been months since she had smiled. Perhaps she would find Treebeard though, perhaps his hoor-hooming would cheer her a bit.
A twig cracked to her left and she turned to find an arrow pointed at her chest. She looked around and found eleven more archers wielding bows at her. She was puzzled, what were a dozen of Elves doing in Fangorn? Had they started a new colony there? Or were these Elves just passing through and she had stumbled onto their camp.
"Lay your weapons to the ground." The lead one said.
"I carry no weapons." She replied in a daze, for indeed she didn't. She had cast her bow into the Anduin River, and buried Ulors blades under a great mallorn tree in Lorien, protecting it with magic so no thieves could steal them. The forests of Lorien were now almost empty and it would not be much longer, by Elven standards, until Celeborn and Galadriel passed away over the sea together with the last of the Elves of Lorien and Rivendell.
"Good." One said. An arrow was released into her shoulder and with a cry she sank to the ground. The Elves then took their knives to her, making it seem as though a furious battle had taken place. They would get a much higher reward for her capture if the battle looked to be ferocious. They took liberties with her unconscious body too, unknowing of her heritage and such. Her blood ran golden to the ground.
Legolas silently wandered the halls, for some reason drawn to a commotion near the thrown room. He turned down a hall on his right and quickly walked through it, then entering the thrown room from the back door he quietly walked in and sat down at his fathers side. No one had any objection, for truly he should be there all the time, instead of up in the trees in the forest.
He watched as a party of hunters came in wounded, two of them dragged behind them another being, shrouded in a ugly torn grey cloak. Legolas averted his gaze from the body, he thought perhaps it another of the hunters, dead from, perhaps, a spider attack.
"My Lord, we found this wench wandering through the south-side of the forest. Off the tracks. She gave us one hell of a fight." The leading Elf said, his blood ran freely from a wound on his right arm and his left hand was clutched tightly over the hurt to stem the bleeding.
"A woman?" Thranduil asked in disbelief. " A woman withheld twelve of Mirkwoods best hunters?"
"Aye, she's no ordinary woman. Maybe an Elf-witch. It took us a lot to bring her down." The spokesman of the hunters said with a slight bow.
Then Legolas' eyes caught a glimmer of a reflection from the torch light on the floor. He looked down at the floor and cried out in surprise. Beneath the shrouded prisoner was a slowly growing puddle of golden blood. He leapt from his chair, and, pushing the hunters out of his way, knelt beside the prisoner, fearing what he would find.
He lifted the slight frame of the woman into his arms and slowly pulled away the concealing hood of the cloak. Tears came to his eyes, had it not been for the pale blonde hair, he would hardly have recognized her. She was frail and malnourished, her eyes were sunken in from lack of sleep and food. She was covered in filth.
"Honora. . ." He whispered and lightly caressed a hand across her cheek. She had many wounds on her being, the worst though was that of an arrow in her shoulder. The shaft had been ripped off but the arrowhead still remained imbedded into her skin. He could tell by the rips in her clothes and the blood stains, that she had been raped.
He looked to the hunters with rage evident in his eyes. "You tried to kill her, you bastards! Then took freely from her body once she had fallen unconscious!"
"She attacked us, My Lord!" The spokesman cried.
"Then where are her weapons?" Legolas demanded.
"We left them in the forest. We did not think we would need to prove her violence!" Their leader said again, scared now at the rage in his princes eyes.
"Really? And what weapon did she carry? What blade?" Legolas demanded.
"A sword!" He cried.
"A sword?" Legolas asked, pulling his dagger from it's sheath. "She did not carry a sword. How many of you felt her, I want to know. Just you Toris, or did you all have a try?"
"Enough!" Thranduil yelled, he had had quite enough of their quarrel. "Do you know this woman, my son?"
Legolas froze, could he reveal to all those around him her identity? To his father, the dozen hunters, six of his fathers counsellors and a few others who were drawn to the room by the commotion of their entrance.
"She. . ." He said quietly in barely a whisper. "She is my beloved."
There was an audible gasp in the room and soon it was replaced with the quiet murmurings of the bystanders present. Toris, the lead hunter, visibly paled at this new information and many of the others backed away from their furious prince.
"Toris . . ." Thranduil said strongly, for he was very good at judging the character of people by their actions, and the actions of Toris and his hunters were actions of guilt."You and your hunters are charged with the attempted murder and rape of this young woman. You are to be sent to the dungeons below until we have come to an agreement on your punishment."
Guards stepped up behind each of the hunters and took their arms behind their backs. Then they were silently led away to the dungeons, none struggled for they all knew they were guilty. Their punishment would be death, probably. Legolas was not sorry to see them go.
"Legolas, get her to the healers. You will explain this all to me once she is safely cared for." Thranduil said sternly.
Legolas nodded and carefully picked her up into his arms, her head lolling to the side unsupported. He hurried towards the healers and when he arrived he carefully explained to them her injuries. They took her graciously, news already spreading of the arrival of their princes beloved. Questions were asked at the color of her blood, but he would not answer them. He bowed to them then returned to the thrown room to face his fathers prodding questions.
"Who is she Legolas?" Thranduil demanded. "Why did you say nothing of her to me?"
"She . . . I met her on my journey with Aragorn in Gondor. I did not speak of her because . . . " He trailed off.
"Because, why?" Thranduil demanded again, his anger rising. "If I'm to have a daughter-in-law, I should like to know of it!"
"I didn't tell you because she is not mine to possess!" Legolas cried. "I was trying to forget her!"
"Then what was she doing in the forest? I had assumed she was coming to see you." His father asked, he said nothing about the look of pain upon his sons face.
"I do not know what she was doing in the South Forest. I doubt coming to see me, we did not part on such good terms." Legolas said.
"So be it." Iluvatar growled.
Honoras eyes snapped open and her sat up straight. She was in a room, it was dim and had only one small window on the eastern side. She saw two healers standing nearby, they came to her quickly when they saw her awake.
"My Lady, you need your rest." One of the healers said, coming to her and firmly pushing her back onto her pillow. His long pale hair, sweeping over his shoulder as he did so.
"I am in Lorien then, for only the Elves of Lorien have such fair colored tresses." She said, catching a strand of the healers hair in her hand.
"Nay, My Lady, fair-haired Elves live also in the forests of Mirkwood." The healer said.
Her eyes went wide and she struggled against the healers strength to sit up. "Mirkwood! Oh, how ironic that I should arrive in the only realm of Middle-Earth I swore never to venture!" She cried. "I must leave, before he see me."
"Before who sees you, My Lady? We cannot allow you to leave without the consent of the Prince. He gave us specific instructions." The second healer said.
"He's seen me already then . . . the stupid fool. He probably thinks I've come to beg for his love." She muttered, slumping back on her pillow with a sigh. "It can't be helped, I guess."
"How do you feel, My Lady?" The first healer asked, deciding to change the subject.
"I feel fine." She said quickly, not wanted to speak of how she really felt. Abused and violated. She wanted to travel back to the tunnels of old, which she had explored after being released of Aragorn's service to see if any ancient treasures had been uncovered, and huddle up in a corner of it and be forgotten for the rest of the ages. It was safe in those tunnels for no being, good or evil, had yet mustered enough courage to travel through them after the passing of the demons. She wished she could end this life, walk again in the eternal white of Valinor.
"I would suggest you rest, My Lady. The prince will no doubt wish to speak with you once you are well rested." The second dealer said, bowing to her as he and his companion prepared to leave the room.
Suddenly the door flew open and Legolas walked in. Honora closed her eyes quickly, hoping to give the illusion of sleep. She waited a moment and heard the shuffling of feet and then the closing of the door. Her hopes flew and inwardly she smiled, if she was careful she would not have to face him.
"You can stop pretending, Honora." She heard his voice call from beside her.
She inwardly cursed, so much for her hopes of not having to confront him. She slowly opened her eyes and found herself staring up into his ocean blue orbs. He looked different than he had when she had last seen him. He looked haunted and pale, yet now his eyes sparkled with a kind of happiness.
"What do you want?" She asked angrily.
"To know what you were doing in my realm." He answered, sitting gently upon the edge of her bed without invitation.
"Not looking for you, if that's what you mean." She replied hotly, turning her head away from him.
She heard him take a deep breath. "Honora . . . I'm sorry for the things I said to you in the forest that night. I didn't mean them." Honora snorted and turned on her side so her back was to him. "Honora, please. Your father made threats on all those I cared for. I would not knowingly put them in such danger!"
"As if you needed to fear the threats of my father! I have fallen out of his favor, he no longer cares what I do. He has taken from me my armies, my pride, my luck and my strength. Do you think your beloved hunters would have been able to abuse me as they did had I still been in Iluvatars favor?" She demanded.
Legolas fell silent, carefully contemplating her words. Truly, the blood that had been spilled should have called down the Valar to aid her. They would have when he had last seen her. He supposed much had changed since then though. It had been three years after all, not long by Elven standards, but a long enough while for a person to change.
"They will not live, Melda." He whispered.
"Do not call me that!" She yelled turning and slapping his face. "You think you can say such things as you did then, when events turn for the worst, say a few comforting words and make up an excuse and things will be better again?"
Legolas looked down in shame, refusing to let his hand go to his cheek where she had slapped him. "What more must I do?" He asked.
"What more must you do? What more must you do! There is nothing you can do! You have no comprehension of the pains I have gone through in the last three years. Yes, I know it is not all that long of a time, but it was Hell! I spend a year of this time lost in the tunnels of old, the ones the demons had passed through. A year in complete darkness. When I finally emerged, it took another three months for my eyes to be able to see in the sunlight again.
"Do you know what I wished for while in those tunnels, Legolas? My one hope was that you were suffering worse than I. That was the only thing I wanted. I wanted you to hurt more than I did.
"You made a fool of me, Legolas. I was nieve of the ways of the men- folk of Middle-Earth. But I've learned my lesson now and will not make the same mistake twice." She snapped.
"Honora! My life has been Hell since that night as well! Not a day has gone by that I have not thought of you. My father thought I had either gone mad or had caught some strange disease while in the South. I am to the the king of the realm one day, I am to be studying the ways of rulership. I have given up on all that in the last three years. Indeed, the day those cursed hunters came in was the first time I had been in the thrown room since my return!" He cried in return.
"Oh y es, it must have been absolute horror to have all those friends you spoke of to me once turn on you in suspicion of disease." She snapped.
Then the doors to her room were thrown open and the healers returned. Their cries had obviously carried down the long halls of Thranduil's palace.
"My Lord, our patient needs her rest." The first healer cried, she recognized him as the one who's tresses she had admired.
"She needs no rest!" Legolas snapped. "Indeed, if she is healthy enough to fight with me she needs no rest."
"Get out, Legolas!" Honora cried. "I have no wish to speak with you. Not now, nor ever again!"
"This is not your realm, Honora. You hold no power here nor, if what you have told me is true, do you hold power in any realm left in Arda." Legolas snapped in anger, his temper rising even faster than his fathers had ever done before.
Honora glared angrily at him and dove from the bed. She landed on top of him and got in one swift punch to his jaw before the healers pulled her off of him. She struggled against their iron grip, unbridled fury blazing in her eyes.
"Lotesse i Mandos Nare tuilindo elye ar ardalya inya!" (May the Hell Fire swallow you and your realm whole) She cried, her body quickly weakening from it's struggle due to her recent injuries.
AN: Heh heh heh heh heh, pissyness. lol. READ AND REVIEW!!! :D I loved each and every single one of the reviews I got for the last chapter, it more than makes up for the lack of reviews in the chapter before that. . . it would have been. . . um . . . 15 right? This one's 17. :D I dunno.
AN: Heh heh heh , oops. Yeah I've read like perhaps 20 pages into the book Silmarillion by J. R.R. Tolkein and I've already figured out that I've pretty much screwed up on a bunch of stuff. But that's okay! Because. . . well I don't know why, but it just is! :D
Reviews:
My Arwen: Partly. Your just gonna have to read to find out though aren't you. :D Thanx for the review.
Elfaer: Thanx for your review. I got so many this chapter, it makes me happy. :D
Cherryfizz: You find out in this chapter what Iluvatar said to him in private. :D That's why he's leaving her.
Doyle: Yay, I knew I could count on you! :D lol. It's good to hear your still reading after the horribleness of chapter 15. :D
Nelinde: :D:D:D:D:D:D I looooooooooove reviews. :D lol. Thanx for your, but your just gonna have to read this to find out what's wrong with him.
Okay that's it for now. :D Oh and for any of you that are wondering, yes, I know there is something wrong with the first two chapter. I've spent hours trying to fix it but the only option I can see is taking the whole story off and then uploading it again. And I'd hate to do that because then I'd lose all of your wonderful reviews. :( So yeah. If your reading the first chapter or if they were screwed up when you read them, I'm sorry but your just gonna have to live with it.
Three years had passed since that fateful night in the woods beyond Minas Tirith. When the prince had returned, many Elves had noticed the change in Legolas' behavior. He was less open and tended to keep to himself more than he had before he had left. Often the Elves of Mirkwood would see their prince sitting silently in a the tall branches of a tree, looking sadly to the South.
He rarely slept, and the lack of rest was showing in his face. His strength was weakening because, even rarer than sleep, did he eat. He was less than a shadow of the man that had left to Rivendell four years before. His wounds had never healed, his heart was broken and the injuries he had sustained in Valinor had never been properly treated.
He had spoken to no one of the love he had briefly had in the wilds of Gondor and Rohan. He'd brood on it though, for that was what he thought about while up in the trees. What would have happened had he not said those cruel words to her in the forest? What would have happened should he have asked for her hand and she accepted? Would the evils of Mirkwood be somehow undone? Yet the words of her father still burned in his mind and he would not cause that wrath upon all those he loved.
His father was more than worried, he knew, but yet he still could not pull himself from his depression. He remembered the sight of her, half dead from grieving his supposed death, and he could not bring himself to look into the mirror, to gaze at the monster that had betrayed her trust, and destroyed her ability to love.
The guilt of it washed over him every day, and his constantly wished that he had not been sent back to Middle-Earth to live again, but that he could have perished from the torture of the Varya. Yet that was not so, and now he lived in the Dark Wood and wandered in both night and day, hardly able to live with himself.
Honora had wandered, she had freed Anarvende of her service, though the mare had insisted it had been of her own choice, and she wandered on foot through the lands of Middle-Earth.
It had been nearly a week since her last meal as she walked through a dense dark forest. The sun barely filtered through the leaves above and there seemed to be a tension throughout the wood. Fangorn, she thought to herself.
There had been a trail for her to follow, but she had veered off of it, not wanting to be found. She was nowhere near as sociable as she had once been and indeed it had been months since she had smiled. Perhaps she would find Treebeard though, perhaps his hoor-hooming would cheer her a bit.
A twig cracked to her left and she turned to find an arrow pointed at her chest. She looked around and found eleven more archers wielding bows at her. She was puzzled, what were a dozen of Elves doing in Fangorn? Had they started a new colony there? Or were these Elves just passing through and she had stumbled onto their camp.
"Lay your weapons to the ground." The lead one said.
"I carry no weapons." She replied in a daze, for indeed she didn't. She had cast her bow into the Anduin River, and buried Ulors blades under a great mallorn tree in Lorien, protecting it with magic so no thieves could steal them. The forests of Lorien were now almost empty and it would not be much longer, by Elven standards, until Celeborn and Galadriel passed away over the sea together with the last of the Elves of Lorien and Rivendell.
"Good." One said. An arrow was released into her shoulder and with a cry she sank to the ground. The Elves then took their knives to her, making it seem as though a furious battle had taken place. They would get a much higher reward for her capture if the battle looked to be ferocious. They took liberties with her unconscious body too, unknowing of her heritage and such. Her blood ran golden to the ground.
Legolas silently wandered the halls, for some reason drawn to a commotion near the thrown room. He turned down a hall on his right and quickly walked through it, then entering the thrown room from the back door he quietly walked in and sat down at his fathers side. No one had any objection, for truly he should be there all the time, instead of up in the trees in the forest.
He watched as a party of hunters came in wounded, two of them dragged behind them another being, shrouded in a ugly torn grey cloak. Legolas averted his gaze from the body, he thought perhaps it another of the hunters, dead from, perhaps, a spider attack.
"My Lord, we found this wench wandering through the south-side of the forest. Off the tracks. She gave us one hell of a fight." The leading Elf said, his blood ran freely from a wound on his right arm and his left hand was clutched tightly over the hurt to stem the bleeding.
"A woman?" Thranduil asked in disbelief. " A woman withheld twelve of Mirkwoods best hunters?"
"Aye, she's no ordinary woman. Maybe an Elf-witch. It took us a lot to bring her down." The spokesman of the hunters said with a slight bow.
Then Legolas' eyes caught a glimmer of a reflection from the torch light on the floor. He looked down at the floor and cried out in surprise. Beneath the shrouded prisoner was a slowly growing puddle of golden blood. He leapt from his chair, and, pushing the hunters out of his way, knelt beside the prisoner, fearing what he would find.
He lifted the slight frame of the woman into his arms and slowly pulled away the concealing hood of the cloak. Tears came to his eyes, had it not been for the pale blonde hair, he would hardly have recognized her. She was frail and malnourished, her eyes were sunken in from lack of sleep and food. She was covered in filth.
"Honora. . ." He whispered and lightly caressed a hand across her cheek. She had many wounds on her being, the worst though was that of an arrow in her shoulder. The shaft had been ripped off but the arrowhead still remained imbedded into her skin. He could tell by the rips in her clothes and the blood stains, that she had been raped.
He looked to the hunters with rage evident in his eyes. "You tried to kill her, you bastards! Then took freely from her body once she had fallen unconscious!"
"She attacked us, My Lord!" The spokesman cried.
"Then where are her weapons?" Legolas demanded.
"We left them in the forest. We did not think we would need to prove her violence!" Their leader said again, scared now at the rage in his princes eyes.
"Really? And what weapon did she carry? What blade?" Legolas demanded.
"A sword!" He cried.
"A sword?" Legolas asked, pulling his dagger from it's sheath. "She did not carry a sword. How many of you felt her, I want to know. Just you Toris, or did you all have a try?"
"Enough!" Thranduil yelled, he had had quite enough of their quarrel. "Do you know this woman, my son?"
Legolas froze, could he reveal to all those around him her identity? To his father, the dozen hunters, six of his fathers counsellors and a few others who were drawn to the room by the commotion of their entrance.
"She. . ." He said quietly in barely a whisper. "She is my beloved."
There was an audible gasp in the room and soon it was replaced with the quiet murmurings of the bystanders present. Toris, the lead hunter, visibly paled at this new information and many of the others backed away from their furious prince.
"Toris . . ." Thranduil said strongly, for he was very good at judging the character of people by their actions, and the actions of Toris and his hunters were actions of guilt."You and your hunters are charged with the attempted murder and rape of this young woman. You are to be sent to the dungeons below until we have come to an agreement on your punishment."
Guards stepped up behind each of the hunters and took their arms behind their backs. Then they were silently led away to the dungeons, none struggled for they all knew they were guilty. Their punishment would be death, probably. Legolas was not sorry to see them go.
"Legolas, get her to the healers. You will explain this all to me once she is safely cared for." Thranduil said sternly.
Legolas nodded and carefully picked her up into his arms, her head lolling to the side unsupported. He hurried towards the healers and when he arrived he carefully explained to them her injuries. They took her graciously, news already spreading of the arrival of their princes beloved. Questions were asked at the color of her blood, but he would not answer them. He bowed to them then returned to the thrown room to face his fathers prodding questions.
"Who is she Legolas?" Thranduil demanded. "Why did you say nothing of her to me?"
"She . . . I met her on my journey with Aragorn in Gondor. I did not speak of her because . . . " He trailed off.
"Because, why?" Thranduil demanded again, his anger rising. "If I'm to have a daughter-in-law, I should like to know of it!"
"I didn't tell you because she is not mine to possess!" Legolas cried. "I was trying to forget her!"
"Then what was she doing in the forest? I had assumed she was coming to see you." His father asked, he said nothing about the look of pain upon his sons face.
"I do not know what she was doing in the South Forest. I doubt coming to see me, we did not part on such good terms." Legolas said.
"So be it." Iluvatar growled.
Honoras eyes snapped open and her sat up straight. She was in a room, it was dim and had only one small window on the eastern side. She saw two healers standing nearby, they came to her quickly when they saw her awake.
"My Lady, you need your rest." One of the healers said, coming to her and firmly pushing her back onto her pillow. His long pale hair, sweeping over his shoulder as he did so.
"I am in Lorien then, for only the Elves of Lorien have such fair colored tresses." She said, catching a strand of the healers hair in her hand.
"Nay, My Lady, fair-haired Elves live also in the forests of Mirkwood." The healer said.
Her eyes went wide and she struggled against the healers strength to sit up. "Mirkwood! Oh, how ironic that I should arrive in the only realm of Middle-Earth I swore never to venture!" She cried. "I must leave, before he see me."
"Before who sees you, My Lady? We cannot allow you to leave without the consent of the Prince. He gave us specific instructions." The second healer said.
"He's seen me already then . . . the stupid fool. He probably thinks I've come to beg for his love." She muttered, slumping back on her pillow with a sigh. "It can't be helped, I guess."
"How do you feel, My Lady?" The first healer asked, deciding to change the subject.
"I feel fine." She said quickly, not wanted to speak of how she really felt. Abused and violated. She wanted to travel back to the tunnels of old, which she had explored after being released of Aragorn's service to see if any ancient treasures had been uncovered, and huddle up in a corner of it and be forgotten for the rest of the ages. It was safe in those tunnels for no being, good or evil, had yet mustered enough courage to travel through them after the passing of the demons. She wished she could end this life, walk again in the eternal white of Valinor.
"I would suggest you rest, My Lady. The prince will no doubt wish to speak with you once you are well rested." The second dealer said, bowing to her as he and his companion prepared to leave the room.
Suddenly the door flew open and Legolas walked in. Honora closed her eyes quickly, hoping to give the illusion of sleep. She waited a moment and heard the shuffling of feet and then the closing of the door. Her hopes flew and inwardly she smiled, if she was careful she would not have to face him.
"You can stop pretending, Honora." She heard his voice call from beside her.
She inwardly cursed, so much for her hopes of not having to confront him. She slowly opened her eyes and found herself staring up into his ocean blue orbs. He looked different than he had when she had last seen him. He looked haunted and pale, yet now his eyes sparkled with a kind of happiness.
"What do you want?" She asked angrily.
"To know what you were doing in my realm." He answered, sitting gently upon the edge of her bed without invitation.
"Not looking for you, if that's what you mean." She replied hotly, turning her head away from him.
She heard him take a deep breath. "Honora . . . I'm sorry for the things I said to you in the forest that night. I didn't mean them." Honora snorted and turned on her side so her back was to him. "Honora, please. Your father made threats on all those I cared for. I would not knowingly put them in such danger!"
"As if you needed to fear the threats of my father! I have fallen out of his favor, he no longer cares what I do. He has taken from me my armies, my pride, my luck and my strength. Do you think your beloved hunters would have been able to abuse me as they did had I still been in Iluvatars favor?" She demanded.
Legolas fell silent, carefully contemplating her words. Truly, the blood that had been spilled should have called down the Valar to aid her. They would have when he had last seen her. He supposed much had changed since then though. It had been three years after all, not long by Elven standards, but a long enough while for a person to change.
"They will not live, Melda." He whispered.
"Do not call me that!" She yelled turning and slapping his face. "You think you can say such things as you did then, when events turn for the worst, say a few comforting words and make up an excuse and things will be better again?"
Legolas looked down in shame, refusing to let his hand go to his cheek where she had slapped him. "What more must I do?" He asked.
"What more must you do? What more must you do! There is nothing you can do! You have no comprehension of the pains I have gone through in the last three years. Yes, I know it is not all that long of a time, but it was Hell! I spend a year of this time lost in the tunnels of old, the ones the demons had passed through. A year in complete darkness. When I finally emerged, it took another three months for my eyes to be able to see in the sunlight again.
"Do you know what I wished for while in those tunnels, Legolas? My one hope was that you were suffering worse than I. That was the only thing I wanted. I wanted you to hurt more than I did.
"You made a fool of me, Legolas. I was nieve of the ways of the men- folk of Middle-Earth. But I've learned my lesson now and will not make the same mistake twice." She snapped.
"Honora! My life has been Hell since that night as well! Not a day has gone by that I have not thought of you. My father thought I had either gone mad or had caught some strange disease while in the South. I am to the the king of the realm one day, I am to be studying the ways of rulership. I have given up on all that in the last three years. Indeed, the day those cursed hunters came in was the first time I had been in the thrown room since my return!" He cried in return.
"Oh y es, it must have been absolute horror to have all those friends you spoke of to me once turn on you in suspicion of disease." She snapped.
Then the doors to her room were thrown open and the healers returned. Their cries had obviously carried down the long halls of Thranduil's palace.
"My Lord, our patient needs her rest." The first healer cried, she recognized him as the one who's tresses she had admired.
"She needs no rest!" Legolas snapped. "Indeed, if she is healthy enough to fight with me she needs no rest."
"Get out, Legolas!" Honora cried. "I have no wish to speak with you. Not now, nor ever again!"
"This is not your realm, Honora. You hold no power here nor, if what you have told me is true, do you hold power in any realm left in Arda." Legolas snapped in anger, his temper rising even faster than his fathers had ever done before.
Honora glared angrily at him and dove from the bed. She landed on top of him and got in one swift punch to his jaw before the healers pulled her off of him. She struggled against their iron grip, unbridled fury blazing in her eyes.
"Lotesse i Mandos Nare tuilindo elye ar ardalya inya!" (May the Hell Fire swallow you and your realm whole) She cried, her body quickly weakening from it's struggle due to her recent injuries.
AN: Heh heh heh heh heh, pissyness. lol. READ AND REVIEW!!! :D I loved each and every single one of the reviews I got for the last chapter, it more than makes up for the lack of reviews in the chapter before that. . . it would have been. . . um . . . 15 right? This one's 17. :D I dunno.