DISCLAIMER: same as before, yadda yadda yadda- the character of Mek is mine, i think.
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CHAPTER 2: A BURDEN SLIGHTLY LIFTED
Aragorn stopped on his way back to his
room to admire the view from a balcony. Thinking back on that day earlier in
Rivendell, he ruefully thanked the Valar that the
trees in his home did not grow as tall as the ones here in Mirkwood. He stood
there, drinking in the sight and sounds when he suddenly heard a familiar,
scratchy voice behind him. "Hello, Aragorn."
He turned, smiling. "Gandalf! I did not know you were in Mirkwood!"
The wizard smiled in turn and
settled himself next to Aragorn, looking up at the starry night sky. He finally
said, "I did not think I would be here either, but there are some matters
in Mirkwood I find too pressing to ignore."
"Thranduil?"
Aragorn guessed. Like Arwen, he too had sensed that something was not right
with Legolas' behavior. Gandalf merely nodded, but offered up no more
information. Then another voice called out from behind them.
"Mithrandir?"
Legolas asked. They both turned to see the Prince, or rather the outline of the
Prince, barely visible in the shadows of a tree.
"Yes, young friend. I
decided to drop in for a visit. I trust my timing is acceptable?" he
smiled at the Elf-shadow before him, but the smile did not reach his eyes. In
fact, Aragorn almost thought that there was a sadness in Gandalf's eyes.
Aragorn saw the Elf's head
nod. "Perfect timing, in fact. I was just coming
to tell Estel that the evening meal is ready." Aragorn nodded his thanks
and began walking towards the dining hall when he noticed that Gandalf had yet to
move.
"Legolas, will you be
joining us for said meal?" the wizard asked softly. Aragorn heard a sigh
just as soft from the shadows.
"I may be a little late,
I am not feeling entirely well," came the reply.
"Then you know I shall
not eat in the same room as that-"
"Mithrandir,"
Legolas' voice sounded strained, and Aragorn sensed they had had this argument
before. He moved closer to Gandalf and watched Legolas, who was still concealed
in darkness. Legolas continued, "You know you cannot call Thran- the King those names."
"I know no such
thing," Gandalf said. His face finally turned to match the emotion in his
eyes, sadness. "What do you call a King who hits his own son?" With
that the pillar of Gandalf's staff shone brightly, casting away the shadows
that Legolas had hidden in.
Aragorn managed to suppress a
gasp, but his eyes widened in shock as he took in the appearance of his friend.
Legolas has a much darker and larger bruise on his cheekbone than before, and
his eye seemed slightly swollen. His lip was also cut and bleeding. His shirt
and tunic were ripped in several places, showing cuts and bruises where skin
should have been. He was holding on slightly to the tree beside him for
support, as if he were too weak to stand on his own.
"Legolas," Aragorn
said softly. Legolas flinched; he had thought Aragorn had left. He looked down,
obviously ashamed of himself.
"It is-" he was
about to say it was nothing, but he doubted they would believe him. "He is
just testing me."
"He's hurting you, Legolas," came another
voice. Elladan and Elrohir appeared with Mekahb, Legolas' best friend in
Mirkwood, and one of the few who knew the truth about the King.
"Mek," Legolas
began.
Mekahb shook his head.
"No. This had been going on for far too long."
"Indeed it has,"
Elrond and Arwen also stepped onto the balcony.
Legolas groaned inwardly. His
secret was unraveling too fast for his liking. He did not like showing his
weakness in front of so many, especially since he loved and respected those in
front of him. He sat down on a bench and put his face in his hands, wincing at
the pressure applied to his bruises.
Mekahb was next to him in an instant,
placing a hand on one shoulder, and then hastily removing it when he felt
Legolas shudder at the touch. Elrond also noticed this, and something clicked
in his mind. The twins used to tease Legolas for being too jumpy, for flinching
at sudden movements near him. But everyone, including Elrond himself, had
always just dismissed it as part of the Prince's nature, a Wood Elf raised
under the threat of shadow. But the truth was far more grave,
almost too much to comprehend. He shook his head sadly and watched as this same
realization came over the faces of his sons. He wondered if they felt as guilty
as he did.
The silence dragged on for
several minutes. In that time Legolas sat, still shaking, his head still in his
hands. Just when he thought he would scream from the tension in the air, he
felt a new presence beside him. Arwen. She sat down on
the bench, placing one calming hand on his arm and running the other hand over
his head and through his hair, clearing out tangles she knew had come when he
had been beaten. "Legolas," she whispered into his ear. He barely
acknowledged her. The others stood around them, wanting to help but not sure
how. Arwen brushed some strands of hair off of his face but still could not get
him to look at her. She kept her cool hand next to his cheek, which felt
burning and hot under her skin. "Legolas," she repeated. "We
must do something about this. It cannot be allowed to go on anymore." She
then thought of the bruise he had supposedly gotten from the Warg. How could
someone do this? As if echoing her thoughts, Legolas shuddered again.
"Legolas,"
Gandalf's voice was gentle, but firm enough for the Prince to finally raise his
head. "You must tell us. Everything."
Legolas sucked in a shaky breath,
and after an encouraging nod from Mek, began to explain. "I couldn't tell
you the exact date when it all began. It was a… gradual change. He wasn't
always like this. So much happened to him, he suffered so greatly-"
"Legolas, there is no
need for you to excuse his behavior," Gandalf quietly interrupted. Legolas
looked as though he were about to argue, but the Wizard held up his hand.
"Just continue, please. I want you to tell me what you can remember about
this change."
Legolas nodded, the painful
memories flooding back to him. He had been young, still too mischievous for his
own good. Thranduil had caught him sneaking into the armory to look at the bows
and blades. They might have fought, as most fathers and sons do, but something
in the king had snapped. Without seeming to realize it, he had backhanded
Legolas across the face. "He was so distraught; the first time he hit me,
he didn't really mean it. His emotions were simply beyond his control. The look
on his face… he honestly didn't mean any harm. But then it happened again some
nights later. I think he felt it was a good release for those emotions."
He took a pause, finally meeting the questioning eyes of Elrond and Gandalf. "It
was after my mother died."
The reactions were as he
suspected. His mother had died almost two thousand years ago; Legolas himself
had only been about eight centuries old, the equivalent to a young child in
human terms. Two thousand years?! Aragorn felt sick. How could someone go
through so many years of torment- by his own father? It would be a burden
Aragorn did not think he could ever bear.
"What about
Radames?" Elladan asked suddenly, his voice shaking slightly. "Does
he know?"
Legolas visibly paled at the mention of
his brother. He opened his mouth to reply but found his voice had left him. He
looked to Mek for help, who nodded and jumped in to answer for his Prince.
"Radames
not only knew, he endured the same. When he found out that his father
was doing this to Legolas on a fairly regular basis, he confronted the King,
only to be punished for it as well. You see, the King discovered he could 'let
out his emotions,'" he spat out the phrase, disgusted, "more efficiently
when using a weapon. Which meant both Princes were hurt more
often and more severely as the beatings went on. And yet everything was
kept so carefully hidden. Most Elves here know nothing of the king's actions. I
only found out because I am a healer. Radames came to me for supplies when
Legolas had had several ribs broken. Even that seems so long ago." Legolas
nodded in agreement, eyes closed, instantly regretting the motion as the cuts
and bruises on his body began sinking in and make him feel dizzy and weak. Mek
looked him over with a practiced and calculating eye, before turning to the
rest of the group. "Legolas really should not be here. He needs to heal
and rest. I'll take him back to his room, if that is all right," not
expecting any argument, he stood up and helped Legolas into a standing
position.
"Just a second,
Mekahb," Elrond said. "You speak of Prince Radames in the past tense.
What is it that you are not telling us?"
Mek stared at the Lord of
Rivendell, and felt Legolas freeze in mid-stride as well. "What do you
want to know?"
Elrond softened at the
anxious and pained expressions on the Mirkwood Elves' faces. "Radames is
known for his loyalty and compassion, especially when it concerns his younger brother.
I would like to know why it is he would leave his brother alone with Thranduil
and go off on some minor excursion to as far away as Rohan in such times. Where
is Radames truly?"
Mek was about to reply when a
quiet voice cut him off. "We don't know," Legolas answered. He let
that sink in. "We don't know where he is. One day he is here and the next,
he is gone. Mek and I have searched all over Mirkwood, as far and deep as we
can without garnering too much suspicion from my father. I… I even searched the
dungeons and our resting chamber for bodies. Radames has disappeared. My heart
has told me many times that Thranduil is behind this and he knows where my
brother is, but any time I get close to mentioning Radames to him, I-" he
trailed off, gesturing to his slightly battered body.
"So you can do
nothing?" Elrohir asked softly, still finding all this information hard to
process.
"I have tried everything
I physically can. I do not think I can afford to bring too much more attention
on myself. Part of me thinks that my father still believes that I accept his
explanation of Radames' absence. If he knew what I suspected," Legolas
almost seemed to shudder, something his friends were not used to seeing from
their brave and lively friend. This
treachery indeed runs deep, Gandalf thought to himself.
The wizard's gaze turned to concerned as he saw the Prince falter slightly, now
leaning more weight against Mek's support.
"Legolas, I believe Mekahb is right. You do need some rest to recover from
your injuries."
Legolas nodded slightly,
before bowing his head. "I am sorry, Mithrandir. I wanted to tell you but
I was… I was afraid. I do not blame you for thinking me weak. It is my fault
that Radames-"
Gandalf's eyebrows shot up in
surprise. "Legolas!" his voice rang firmly and full of shock.
"None of this, in any way, is your fault. You have been faced with a
hardship that none, be it Elf, Man, or Dwarf should have to face. Many more
might have crumbled when you have not." His voice grew quiet once again. "Your
mother and Radames would be proud of you. This is not your fault." The
others said nothing, but silently voiced their agreement.
His head still down, Legolas
successfully hid the tears threatening to fall down his face. "Thank
you," was all he said before allowing Mek, also throwing Gandalf a
grateful look, to lead him back to his room.
There was a shocked and
uncertain silence that held those that remained on the balcony. Surprisingly,
it was Arwen that spoke first.
"Well then," she
said, her eyes flashing with anger and purpose. "Would someone be so kind
as to instruct me on the proper ways to kill an Elven king?"
END OF CHAPTER 2
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again, thanks for reading! Another review would be mightily appreciated as well… not much else to say here… see ya in chapter 3!
Tenna' ento lye omenta,
Nell
