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Chapter three:
Legolas played nervously with the edge of his sleeve, waiting restlessly for his verdict from the middle of his bedchamber. From time to time he gave his father, standing by the closed window, a quick glance. Legolas imagined himself becoming a little bug, vanishing underneath the door. Thranduil had his arms crossed firmly and a rock steady facial expression, which made Legolas stand paralyzed. They both knew that the young elf would probably jump out the window if his father asked him to. And Legolas hated himself for it. The king's intentions were unclear, but he figured something unpleasant was coming.
Thranduil sighed before looking at his son. Legolas, feeling the king's eyes upon him, swallowed and turned his face to the floor. He pretended to be studying his shoes intensely while he only waited for his father to speak. But the air maintained silent, resting across Legolas shoulders like led. He could not bare it much longer. Any reaction at all would be a good one.
-I'm sorry father…
Legolas bit his tongue and regretted speaking immediately. Why did his mouth always speak without his permission? His father moved closer. So close he could feel his breath on his cheek.
-You will never understand… Thranduil whispered.
Legolas shuddered. In midst of his terror, he was all of a sudden overwhelmed by a familiar sensation that almost calmed him. The scents of his father reminded him of everything in Mirkwood, which most of the time to him was most of all related to safety and comfort. Legolas felt his eyelids sliding over his eyes and the environment faded slowly out. Legolas gasped as he felt his legs collapse underneath him. He grabbed for his fathers hand and then everything turned black for a little while, and when he woke he was starring into his father's leather boots from the floor. He grunted quietly and looked up, understanding he was laying flat on the floor in front of his father's feet. Befuddling over how it had happened, Legolas knew he was in no condition to get up by him self. Embarrassed by his weakness, he wished his father soon would leave him.
-Stand to your feet Legolas, Thranduil said uncompassionate. He thought his son's sudden performance foolish and was not intending to give him a helping hand.
The elf uttered helpless sounds, moving slowly, ungracefully until he managed to rise horizontally. The room was still spinning, but Legolas knew he had to force himself to stand straight.
-I will se you when the sun rises, Thranduil said from the doorway. Then the door shut.
Legolas was in fact grateful over finally being alone. He let himself fall back over the bed, and with both hands he covered his tear-filled eyes.
Legolas would never understand the quarrel between elves and dwarfs simply because he was never given any reason for why. Why was there so much hatred? Why was he being punished for something he had no part in? Legolas sniffed and dried his eyes with the back of his hand. The only difference that he could find between elves and dwarfs laid in their appearance. He knew only one dwarf. Gimli was certainly loud-mouthed and blunt, but still friendly and sincere. He enjoyed his company more than any one he'd ever known, and now his father was going to take it away from him? The one thing that made him happy. Not that it came as a surprise…
The best moments of his life had been caused simply by the pride in his fathers eyes when he'd had accomplished something. Was it just meaningless satisfaction rather than happiness? Grief would fill his heart when he at times failed, and saw how disappointed his father would get. And then there would sometimes be pain, Legolas remembered and let his fingertips glide across his cheek. However, Thranduil had never hit him that hard before, and he had never seen such anger in the eyes of his elven lord. He had slapped him across his cheek, but never other places of his body. He rested a hand on his stomach and closed his eyes. What could it be that made his father so angry over someone so non-threatening as a little enthusiastic dwarf?
Light knocking disrupted his troubled mind. First he thought it had been at someone else's door. The third time he sat up, wrinkling his brows.
-Legolas? Hellooo?
Legolas went to the door and pushed it open to find Gimli looking up at him under a tense brow. Legolas face lit up, but he took a step back when he sensed Gimli's anger. Gimli marched eagerly up to Legolas and pushed him hard. The elf flew backwards until his legs bumped into the edge of the bed and he fell across it. Legolas crawled around the bed until he had his back leant against the wall. He pulled up his knees and wrapped his arms around them. Gimli was indeed irritated over something Legolas had done, however, his visit was badly timed. Thinking what could happen if Thranduil returned.
Gimli starred at him for some seconds before he spoke.
-Why did you leave me? I do not find it particularly amusing to walk alone around this property at night! You can laugh all you want, but I got lost as soon as I was out the door! This place has a strange atmosphere I'll tell you! Too much nature, and too much fresh air for my lungs to bear! It might be preferred by an elf, but not at all by one of my kind!
Gimli rested his voice and rested his eyes at the elf before he spoke again.
-What! Gimli asked hesitantly when he didn't get any reaction.
-Gimli… Legolas started. His face was bruised, his clothes wrinkled and his once perfect hair do was a mess. Nevertheless, the elf was smiling.
-I hope that it isn't me that is amusing you! Gimli mumbled with warning in his voice.
-I did not leave you on purpose Gimli, Legolas responded calmly; I had matters to discuss with my father. I apologize if you thought different. I would never do such a thing.
Gimli furrowed his forehead. The elf's clear voice showed no signs of lies.
Legolas tilted his head curiously. He narrowed his eyes and gave Gimli a clever smirk. After a while, the corners of Gimli's mouth developed into a shy grin.