Author's Note: Finally, an update! Just when you really began thinking I
had perhaps dropped off the face of the earth. But worry not, I don't
anticipate the next chapter being as long in coming, for I had to beat a
nasty case of writer's block with a large stick and I think I finally won.
So be happy! Happiness for all! And you know what creates more happiness
in the world? Reviews! You never saw that answer coming, huh? Okay then,
I'll shut up and let you read now, which makes me wonder if people actually
do read these, but whatever. And I still am extremely poor and own
nothing, so don't worry.
Chapter 23
Aragorn and Faramir were both gathered inside of the dwarf's bedchambers, the place where the dwarf had spent the whole of the day. Now in the fading light that signaled dusk when Aragorn had chosen to personally bring Gimli his supper, the king found himself at a loss for words.
"But why would Legolas choose to leave now?" Faramir was asking.
Gimli was sitting up fully in the bed, his face twisted in a scowl. "If I knew that I would have told you. That elf has no more sense than an orc these days."
"Why would he not tell us?" Aragorn finally found his tongue.
Gimli shrugged. "Who knows? I don't even know what goes on inside his head. My guess would be that he wanted to make a quiet exit so that there would be no more arguing than was necessary."
"But he did say he would be coming back," Faramir said. It was more a statement than a question.
Gimli nodded. "Aye, that he said. And my trusting his word is the only reason I did not get up out of this bed and hold him down myself. Though if he does not return soon enough for my tastes I shall be forced to hunt him down. Even with Edrahil locked away I still don't like the thought of that fool elf running about by himself."
"It does seem that this is not the best favored time for him to be leaving," Aragorn muttered.
"Apparently he feels no time will be suited best for him," Gimli replied.
While the talk concerning Legolas was taking place, Legolas was not yet gone from the city of Gondor. He had one more matter to see to before leaving.
Skirting along the dimming roads of Gondor in his elvish cloak, Legolas made his way silently to the small jailhouse. Glancing quickly around to make sure nobody saw what he was doing, Legolas quietly lifted the latch to open the door and stepped swiftly inside. He had deliberately come when he knew the single guard would be gone on a short supper break. It gave him at most fifteen minutes alone, but that was all he needed.
Edrahil locked eyes upon Legolas immediately, the dim lighting not proving to be an obstacle for him to know who it was at the door. "I was wondering when you would show up again," he called out gamely.
Legolas pulled the hood back from his face and stepped forward towards the single cell, the last of the fading light from the window waning on his pale hair.
"I have a few words I would wish to say with you," Legolas said lowly in reply.
Edrahil cocked an eyebrow. "Words of wisdom, perhaps? Or just something in general to amuse me."
Legolas' expression did not waver and he allowed a few beats to fall before speaking again. He was not going to let Edrahil think he could control or goad the conversation. Legolas had come here for one purpose only.
"I am leaving Gondor tonight," he began.
Edrahil cut in immediately, his eyes lighting up. "And you will be sorely missed, I assume. Who else will be left for angry vigilantes to turn their attentions towards?"
Legolas again did not respond immediately. "I am leaving Gondor tonight," he repeated himself as if Edrahil had never said anything. "But they are for sole purposes of my own and have nothing to do with your intentions."
Edrahil waved his hand. "Of course, they are for your intentions. Do what you will, I have no say in it." Even with a melodramatic tone plaguing his voice, Edrahil did not bother to keep himself from grinning.
Legolas' composure seemed to waver slightly. "My absence will not help your situation," he began.
"It will only worsen yours," Edrahil finished for him. "Yes, yes, I already know. It is almost funny though, I had not envisioned my victory being this easy."
Legolas took a step back. "I will return."
Edrahil pulled his head back slightly and peered at Legolas as if searching for something. Finally, he said, "Do you really think and feel this way? Do you truly put such stock in the human race? I cannot even begin to fathom your blind faith in this. You think that if you go away and then come back all will be forgotten and you will be a hero once again? My dear prince, have you learned nothing in your years of this life? If you cannot look to your own happenings, look to the past, look to history. There is nothing but death and destruction brought on by the second born. They are a problem of this land, not an aide."
Legolas took another step back. He lifted his hood to cover his head and fully cloak himself once again. "Believe what you wish," Legolas finally said, "I know what I am doing."
Edrahil laughed. "The foolishness of youth! Yet if you lived for five thousand years more I fear you would be just as stupid. Run away now, go to where you feel is safe. Just do not expect to be welcomed back. Even if I myself am already dead and gone, their mindset will not have changed. You are sealing your own miserable fate by even associating with men. If you wish to be wise at all, never return to this place, never come within five hundred leagues of men again."
"I will bear that in mind," Legolas said softly as he turned on his heel and exited the small jail building.
Edrahil watched the younger elf exit, his head bowed and his posture slumped, sure signs of a defeat. Perhaps he would not be returning, perhaps he would actually listen to Edrahil's words.
Edrahil smiled slightly. His impending death would not be in vain after all. Even if the foolish elf did come back, Edrahil knew he would still be treated as a pariah. Men and elves would never live peaceably together again. The only exception being that of the Lady Arwen, but she had given up her immortality. She would die and be quickly forgotten by the limited memories of her mortal people.
Left alone in the impending darkness, Edrahil's thoughts turned to the past, as they so often did. He once again saw his fallen lord lying beside him, the mighty Gil-Galad fallen in dirt that should have been stained with only mortal blood. And then he remembered the moment when he had realized that Gil-Galad's death had been for nothing, for the ring had survived after all, because of men.
Edrahil touched his ruined ears with his slender fingertips. That too, was all for nothing. He should have just died along with his lord so long ago and not have been subjected to living in a world with a disfigurement that would make those of the second born that he ran into assume that he was one of them, or even below them. A creature that was deserving of pity and polite kindness, but never of admiration or acceptance.
The door of the jailhouse rattled open noisily then, freeing Edrahil of his broodings. The insipid guard hesitated just within the door, his eyes fixated on Edrahil. But then he stepped inside and closed the door before seating himself beside it in the lone chair, leaning back easily into it. His expression said that he was not concerned for his own well- being, but rather concerned with the thought of somehow being able to defeat his own boredom for the long night's watch.
Edrahil frowned to himself. He had come by silently and glanced in when Legolas had been momentarily jailed. The guards then had been fearful, aptly awed by the fact that they had such a powerful being encased in what could have proved to be a flimsy cell to an elf.
And Legolas would never have hurt them.
That was the funny part.
Edrahil, on the other hand, would easily and without reservations extinguish this man. Yet Edrahil noticed that even though he was an admitted killer of several of this man's people and his cover blown, he was still not feared. Even as he stood staring at the young guard the man was trying to fall asleep so that his watch may go that much faster. To him, Edrahil did not look like an elf, did not look like Legolas, and thus was not deserving of fearful respect.
He was not going to die like this.
He was not going to be remembered as an aberration of war that wasted his life in the shadows. He would die with the respect that he deserved. And if he had to strike fear deep into the hearts of all the people of Gondor in order to insure a place in the songs and tales that would carry his name on forever, then so be it.
Edrahil could not bear the thought that the people feared Legolas so, that they thought so much more of him, when he was of a weak mind and as harmless as a young pup. It was no longer enough to simply separate man and elves, now he had his own name to look to. Aragorn's words would not prove to be prophetic, Edrahil would not waste his life in a fool's errand. He would be remembered and finally respected.
Edrahil leaned slightly on the bars that held him. For the men had a reason to fear Legolas when he had been held in here. Compared to an elf's strength, they were flimsy. And the only one who might have known this beforehand was Aragorn, but it had never occurred to the king to check the metal of the jail cell in case they should ever house an elf. Legolas may not have tried to break free, and he may not have hurt them, but Edrahil sure would. He would not bother to wait for mortal justice and disgrace himself by subjecting to a public execution.
All he had to do was wait, wait for the darkest hours of the night that would best aide him and make his inferior quarry all but blind.
Chapter 23
Aragorn and Faramir were both gathered inside of the dwarf's bedchambers, the place where the dwarf had spent the whole of the day. Now in the fading light that signaled dusk when Aragorn had chosen to personally bring Gimli his supper, the king found himself at a loss for words.
"But why would Legolas choose to leave now?" Faramir was asking.
Gimli was sitting up fully in the bed, his face twisted in a scowl. "If I knew that I would have told you. That elf has no more sense than an orc these days."
"Why would he not tell us?" Aragorn finally found his tongue.
Gimli shrugged. "Who knows? I don't even know what goes on inside his head. My guess would be that he wanted to make a quiet exit so that there would be no more arguing than was necessary."
"But he did say he would be coming back," Faramir said. It was more a statement than a question.
Gimli nodded. "Aye, that he said. And my trusting his word is the only reason I did not get up out of this bed and hold him down myself. Though if he does not return soon enough for my tastes I shall be forced to hunt him down. Even with Edrahil locked away I still don't like the thought of that fool elf running about by himself."
"It does seem that this is not the best favored time for him to be leaving," Aragorn muttered.
"Apparently he feels no time will be suited best for him," Gimli replied.
While the talk concerning Legolas was taking place, Legolas was not yet gone from the city of Gondor. He had one more matter to see to before leaving.
Skirting along the dimming roads of Gondor in his elvish cloak, Legolas made his way silently to the small jailhouse. Glancing quickly around to make sure nobody saw what he was doing, Legolas quietly lifted the latch to open the door and stepped swiftly inside. He had deliberately come when he knew the single guard would be gone on a short supper break. It gave him at most fifteen minutes alone, but that was all he needed.
Edrahil locked eyes upon Legolas immediately, the dim lighting not proving to be an obstacle for him to know who it was at the door. "I was wondering when you would show up again," he called out gamely.
Legolas pulled the hood back from his face and stepped forward towards the single cell, the last of the fading light from the window waning on his pale hair.
"I have a few words I would wish to say with you," Legolas said lowly in reply.
Edrahil cocked an eyebrow. "Words of wisdom, perhaps? Or just something in general to amuse me."
Legolas' expression did not waver and he allowed a few beats to fall before speaking again. He was not going to let Edrahil think he could control or goad the conversation. Legolas had come here for one purpose only.
"I am leaving Gondor tonight," he began.
Edrahil cut in immediately, his eyes lighting up. "And you will be sorely missed, I assume. Who else will be left for angry vigilantes to turn their attentions towards?"
Legolas again did not respond immediately. "I am leaving Gondor tonight," he repeated himself as if Edrahil had never said anything. "But they are for sole purposes of my own and have nothing to do with your intentions."
Edrahil waved his hand. "Of course, they are for your intentions. Do what you will, I have no say in it." Even with a melodramatic tone plaguing his voice, Edrahil did not bother to keep himself from grinning.
Legolas' composure seemed to waver slightly. "My absence will not help your situation," he began.
"It will only worsen yours," Edrahil finished for him. "Yes, yes, I already know. It is almost funny though, I had not envisioned my victory being this easy."
Legolas took a step back. "I will return."
Edrahil pulled his head back slightly and peered at Legolas as if searching for something. Finally, he said, "Do you really think and feel this way? Do you truly put such stock in the human race? I cannot even begin to fathom your blind faith in this. You think that if you go away and then come back all will be forgotten and you will be a hero once again? My dear prince, have you learned nothing in your years of this life? If you cannot look to your own happenings, look to the past, look to history. There is nothing but death and destruction brought on by the second born. They are a problem of this land, not an aide."
Legolas took another step back. He lifted his hood to cover his head and fully cloak himself once again. "Believe what you wish," Legolas finally said, "I know what I am doing."
Edrahil laughed. "The foolishness of youth! Yet if you lived for five thousand years more I fear you would be just as stupid. Run away now, go to where you feel is safe. Just do not expect to be welcomed back. Even if I myself am already dead and gone, their mindset will not have changed. You are sealing your own miserable fate by even associating with men. If you wish to be wise at all, never return to this place, never come within five hundred leagues of men again."
"I will bear that in mind," Legolas said softly as he turned on his heel and exited the small jail building.
Edrahil watched the younger elf exit, his head bowed and his posture slumped, sure signs of a defeat. Perhaps he would not be returning, perhaps he would actually listen to Edrahil's words.
Edrahil smiled slightly. His impending death would not be in vain after all. Even if the foolish elf did come back, Edrahil knew he would still be treated as a pariah. Men and elves would never live peaceably together again. The only exception being that of the Lady Arwen, but she had given up her immortality. She would die and be quickly forgotten by the limited memories of her mortal people.
Left alone in the impending darkness, Edrahil's thoughts turned to the past, as they so often did. He once again saw his fallen lord lying beside him, the mighty Gil-Galad fallen in dirt that should have been stained with only mortal blood. And then he remembered the moment when he had realized that Gil-Galad's death had been for nothing, for the ring had survived after all, because of men.
Edrahil touched his ruined ears with his slender fingertips. That too, was all for nothing. He should have just died along with his lord so long ago and not have been subjected to living in a world with a disfigurement that would make those of the second born that he ran into assume that he was one of them, or even below them. A creature that was deserving of pity and polite kindness, but never of admiration or acceptance.
The door of the jailhouse rattled open noisily then, freeing Edrahil of his broodings. The insipid guard hesitated just within the door, his eyes fixated on Edrahil. But then he stepped inside and closed the door before seating himself beside it in the lone chair, leaning back easily into it. His expression said that he was not concerned for his own well- being, but rather concerned with the thought of somehow being able to defeat his own boredom for the long night's watch.
Edrahil frowned to himself. He had come by silently and glanced in when Legolas had been momentarily jailed. The guards then had been fearful, aptly awed by the fact that they had such a powerful being encased in what could have proved to be a flimsy cell to an elf.
And Legolas would never have hurt them.
That was the funny part.
Edrahil, on the other hand, would easily and without reservations extinguish this man. Yet Edrahil noticed that even though he was an admitted killer of several of this man's people and his cover blown, he was still not feared. Even as he stood staring at the young guard the man was trying to fall asleep so that his watch may go that much faster. To him, Edrahil did not look like an elf, did not look like Legolas, and thus was not deserving of fearful respect.
He was not going to die like this.
He was not going to be remembered as an aberration of war that wasted his life in the shadows. He would die with the respect that he deserved. And if he had to strike fear deep into the hearts of all the people of Gondor in order to insure a place in the songs and tales that would carry his name on forever, then so be it.
Edrahil could not bear the thought that the people feared Legolas so, that they thought so much more of him, when he was of a weak mind and as harmless as a young pup. It was no longer enough to simply separate man and elves, now he had his own name to look to. Aragorn's words would not prove to be prophetic, Edrahil would not waste his life in a fool's errand. He would be remembered and finally respected.
Edrahil leaned slightly on the bars that held him. For the men had a reason to fear Legolas when he had been held in here. Compared to an elf's strength, they were flimsy. And the only one who might have known this beforehand was Aragorn, but it had never occurred to the king to check the metal of the jail cell in case they should ever house an elf. Legolas may not have tried to break free, and he may not have hurt them, but Edrahil sure would. He would not bother to wait for mortal justice and disgrace himself by subjecting to a public execution.
All he had to do was wait, wait for the darkest hours of the night that would best aide him and make his inferior quarry all but blind.