Author: Mirrordance

Title: Exile

Summary: An elf is exiled as a suspect to his own brother's murder.  A young king goes out into the Wild.  Two warriors cross paths and embark on a common adventure as one seeks to escape his past and the other to reclaim it.  How Aragorn and Legolas met.

* * *

PART 9

      He soon left, excusing himself with a grunt as he rose from his position on the floor.  Legolas watched him rise, and waited the minor eternity until he returned, wondering if it had only been minutes or if it had been hours or even days.  Time simply vanished in this wasted prison, where the sun refused to shine. 

      "Have you moved at all?" Strider asked him wryly when he returned, noticing that the elf was in the exact same position he had left him in.

      "I am not certain," Legolas admitted distractedly, watching the elves Strider returned with cautiously.  The human came back with Elrond's twins and a trio more of Rivendell's soldiers, who were all looking at him with great suspicion and wariness.

      One of the soldiers unlocked the dungeon, and stepped aside as Strider moved past him.  He was clutching a pack of herbs, and he dropped to a knee beside the bound Mirkwood elf.

      "Your injuries require attention," he said quietly, by way of explanation.

      "They will heal on their own," Legolas said, "You needn't bother."

      "Imladris will not neglect you," Elrohir said to him, "Even if you have done things in the past that merit nothing short of death."

      "Will not neglect me?" said Legolas wryly, "How ironic.  Considering it was you and your men who had generously put me in such a state."

      Elrohir's lips quirked, appreciating the humor, "Well you should have been more cooperative."

      "I apologize," Legolas said, his voice dripping with marked sarcasm.

      Strider shook his head in dismay and amusement.  Mostly the latter.  He looked at the Mirkwood elf with his healer's eyes, and set all the healing herbs he felt he would need in front of him.

      Legolas took Strider's hands to keep him from his work, and the twins and the soldiers visibly tensed, thinking perhaps he was attacking the human.

      "I said not to bother," Legolas told Strider quietly, feeling the sudden agitation of the soldiers and pulling his bound hands away, as if stung.

      "He isn't going to do anything," Strider berated his brothers, "He's barely moving as it is."

      Elladan's jaws were set, as he watched the Mirkwood prince's face.  Their eyes met, and Legolas' stared him down coldly when he began to feel the other's pity.

      "It pays to be cautious, Estel," he told his human brother soothingly, turning away from Legolas, "You've seen what he is capable of."

      Strider took a deep breath, nodded in understanding, before turning his attention back to the Prince.  "Let me help you, all right? Stay still.  I'll be quick."

      "No thank you," Legolas said stubbornly.

      "I can get them to pin you to the wall while I work," Strider threatened.

      "I'd love to see you all try," said Legolas arrogantly.

      "They happily would," Strider boldly declared.

      Legolas glared at him.  Was the human not on his side the last time he checked?

      "I cannot allow you to show them my hurts," Legolas said coolly, "for they will most certainly use it against me when I escape this dreadful place."

      Strider rolled back his eyes.  "If I asked them not to look?"

      "I absolutely refuse to turn my back on this murderer!" Elrohir retorted.

      "We will not let his poor treatment be a reflection on this House," said Elladan, trying to soothe his brother, "or on our Father's name.  We will do as Estel asks, as the Prince of Mirkwood desires.  But you must swear on your honor, you will not do anything to harm anyone here."

      Strider looked at Legolas, eyes ablaze.  The elf said nothing, until the human poked him in the ribs and said, "Swear!"

      "Curse you!" snapped the elf in surprised annoyance, stung, for the human had skillfully located a significantly aching bruise, "All right, I swear!"

      Strider looked at his brothers and the soldiers pointedly.  "Look away."

      Grudgingly, the Rivendell elves complied.  Strider breathed deeply and began to probe at the elf's injuries.  The bruised face was more of a distraction upon Legolas' otherwise unmarred face than a worry.  But the ankle needed binding, and so did the ribs. 

      "You're giving our ada quite the headache," Strider said, preoccupied as he worked, "He is sending a message to your father that you have been found."

      Legolas' head shot up, "It would be better for all if he did not."

      Strider shrugged, as he wrapped clean bandages about the elf's ankle, "Any father has the right to know."

      "Life in Mirkwood has long since moved without me," argued Legolas, "No one needs the aggravation."

      "Well it is not in my hands," said Strider, fishing the keys to Legolas' hand shackles from Elladan's pockets.

      "Estel!" Elladan retorted, profoundly disapproving.

      "How can I work on his ribs if his hands are bound, eh?" said Strider, "He gave you your word, did he not?"

      Elladan looked at his brother pointedly, with narrowed eyes.  "You know what you are doing."

      "Of course!" said Strider at once.  Elladan was beginning to see that he was up to something other than treating the injured elf, and he turned away before his perceptive brother saw any more.

      Strider unclasped the bonds and pressed closer against the elf to twine bandages around his torso.  He talked distractedly, as the sheathed daggers beneath his outermost tunic glinted against the dark of his clothes, against the dark of the room, and their cool hilts brushed Legolas' hand, so close were their proximity.

      "I wonder what the King would do when he finds out," Strider murmured, looking up at Legolas intently.  The elf's brows were furrowed, he was confused, conflicted, feeling that the human was trying to tell him something.  Strider finished binding the rib injury, but lingered close for a moment more, "Perhaps you will get that trial you fled from years and years ago."

      Legolas' heart pounded.

      "You'd try to stop all this if you could, wouldn't you?" Strider asked.

      Legolas returned his intent gaze searchingly. 

      "I would," he said softly.

      "You would do anything for it," added Strider.

      "Anything," Legolas affirmed, thinking perhaps he understood what the human was letting him—practically asking him—to do at last.

      "Estel…" Elrohir growled in warning, feeling something was amiss.  As he began to turn to face his human brother and the captive Mirkwood elf, Legolas moved in a blur of motion, and in a breath, two of Strider's daggers were in his hands, and the human was in his lethal embrace, the blades pressed against his throat.

      The Rivendell elves moved a beat later, quick but not quick enough.  Bows and swords were drawn and pointed his way, but Legolas was already securely ensconced behind his human shield.

      "You came in close contact with a criminal armed," Elladan scolded Strider, "You should have known better!"

      "He did know better, 'Dan," growled Elrohir, glaring at his wily human brother, "If we were really clever, we ought to either leave him in the clutches of this crazy murderer or strangle him ourselves."

      "I don't know what you're talking about!" Strider exclaimed, lying bold-faced.

      Legolas' grip tightened about him threateningly, bringing the blades ever closer to his bare, tender neck.  "Throw your weapons away, please."

TO BE CONTINUED…