By the time Legolas was out on the street, his temper had already begun to cool. Irritated to have experienced it to that degree in the first place, he absent-mindedly adjusted the collar of his jacket, not really feeling cold anyway, and strode on under the bluish light of an early Parisian morning in autumn. 'She lied to me,' he thought in bafflement and the idea was certainly not a pleasant one. Not only because of the obvious reasons, but also due to other reasons - such as the fact that he had fallen for said lie for a rather long time. 'My sentiments are clouding my mind for sure!' was the bitter echo in his mind. 'How can such a thing evade my perception?!' Secondly, it was not a simple and innocent lie. It was one that had made him look foolish. And there was nothing foolish about an elf. A flame of anger burst in him once more and his steps quickened unconsciously to dampen it.
The fire did not last long, though. Because.......well.......there was no David. And that was good.
'She lied to you, you fool!' shouted a part of his mind.
The other part sighed and shrugged. 'There is no David,' was his simple and matter-of-fact statement.
'And that makes it acceptable?!'
'Would you rather that she did NOT lie and there indeed WAS a David?'
Legolas had no reply to that. He sighed and looked up, finding himself in a large square with a fountain and a flock of pigeons. He walked by the birds, his eyes not seeing, his mind too engaged in an inner battle. 'Besides,' began the rational Legolas then, 'it's only fair. You, dear Legolas, can not claim honesty when you have none to give.'
A surprisingly sharp shame rose in him. For the first time in days his wager popped up to the surface of his mind - like a corpse that refused to sink into the dark waters of his conscience. Who was he to blame Irulan, when his lie to her was far greater?
'You never lied to her,' broke in the sentimental Legolas eagerly. 'Not to her and not to anyone else.' Under the dry look of the rational Legolas, it felt tempted to continue: 'You have not spoken the full truth, yes. But it was no lie.'
'I am sure that Irulan will disagree once she finds out,' was the sheepish and rather bemused response.
Legolas took a sharp breath with that thought and halted in the middle of the street he had been walking through. His lips pursed in concentration and a frown invaded his features. He did not look up and remained unmoving - his stance erect, his fists in the pockets of his jacket, his hair lose and hanging down his shoulders. 'What is it, Prince Legolas?' came the amused, taunting challenge. 'Why do you fear such revelation?'
'First off, he does not fear it,' defended the other part stubbornly and Legolas, eager to believe it, resumed his walk, though his pace had slackened. 'Secondly, it was a test - not a mocking, shameful attempt like hers! For the sake of the Council. For the sake of an important decision!'
'Ah please!' cut in the other one and Legolas knew that it was foolish to insist on the opposite. It had been a test, yes. But not one he had not been involved in emotionally. He could not deny now that he had WANTED her to lose. He had wanted her to give in to temptation and prove herself unworthy of her line, of the Circle and of Aragorn altogether. He had wanted her to face defeat in front of him.
"But the defeat is mine," he said almost inaudibly to himself as the autumn breeze ruffled his hair and the elf blinked to look up. Day was dawning in Paris and the faint orange glow in the horizon had begun to turn into the dull yellow of daytime. "I have lost," he said again. And how strange that the thought held no dismay.
'Don't be foolish,' said another voice in his head then and he took a sharp breath when he recognized it. 'You have lost a simple wager,' said Mithrandir, his soft but deep tone suspiciously human, though he was as far from a human as any being could be. 'Yet you have won the match of your heart. No other victory is greater, Legolas.'
'My heart's match?' he thought, stupefied. And yet, even though there was perhaps no open sign for it, he knew right then and there that it was true. His heart wanted her. It was simple and plain. He did not dare to think that he was in love with her -for love to an elf was a mighty bond and had no counterpart in the human world- but he knew that he desired her. Beyond physical longing. Beyond mental enjoyment. There was something more than those things that pulled him to Irulan. Something looming behind a scarlet curtain, throwing an enticing shadow on the wall behind. Although Legolas did not have the heart to pull that curtain aside for now, the presence of that something was undeniable.
'You have lost,' a calm voice spoke in his mind and Legolas looked up to the breaking day, taking a deep breath of the crisp, cool air. 'Face it like a man, Thandruillion.'
He nodded grimly and then looked around. Except for the few people that it held, the street was deserted. A premonition came over him, then. One of the kind he had not felt for the longest time. It was almost prophetic in nature. He knew with utmost certainty that he stood at a crossroads and that his pick of path would have an unparalleled effect on his life and fate. Of this, he was sure. But not of which route to take or which one presented danger. His mind stilled and his focus sank like water seeping into earth. He stood in the cool morning hours, unmoving, closed to the outer events, open to his inner perception, trying to hear the whisper of his intuition.
Nothing came. The paths stretched before him in equal threat and in equal allure. 'Let go,' was the sign on one and it sounded tempting. 'Let go and go back to your tranquility. Let the rock sink into your depths. Soon the ripples will cease and you will have peace. You outlive all, Legolas. You shall outlive this as well.'
Indeed. Why not?
He looked up to the other sign then. 'Hold on,' that one said. 'Take the ride. Too long have you walked in solitary idleness. Sure, it is rough. It is frightening – even to you. It is the tempest that will rip off all you have built. And yet……no real choice stands before you. Or are you too proud to admit that your voice holds no sway here? Here, where gods and demi-gods clash? Here, where the fate of entire people is stitched and unstitched? You too are only a thread in this fabric, Legolas. Know your place and know that this battleground is none for you – you hold no other option than obedience in the face of your destiny.'
He turned around and began his return walk. During that walk he made many decisions. Such as the conclusion that Irulan should never know about the wager. It would break her heart. Actually it would probably break his head, since she would probably act more angry than sad, but eventually, it would break her heart. She did not need to know, anyway. Once they returned, he would summon the Council and tell them that he had lost. That Irulan was as incredible, trustable and mighty a person as Estel had been and deserved the highest respect and vote in the Circle. Higher than even himself. He would tell them that his vote lay with hers and that her decision should be final in the matter of discussion. He smiled with satisfaction. No doubt that they would be shocked. No doubt that some would be displeased. If he had not seen it with his own eyes, her immunity to temptation would be highly suspicious to him, too. And he, too, would have been unhappy with this sort of decision. But she had ripped his eyes open and no longer did he hold such imprudent ideas.
Legolas could be blamed with many things. But never of injustice and foolish pride. He knew when he was right and when he was wrong. And when convinced of his mistakes, he was not ashamed to face the consequences. He had been mistaken. And though for a human the idea to step in front of the Council and apologize for his misleading on the matter would have been embarrassing, the elf Legolas saw no embarrassment in the issue whatsoever. And the prize in return was simply too great to give in to dismay: he had found Irulan. If in return he had to step up to the whole world and declare his stupidity, it held not the slightest hesitation for him.
But.......
She had lied to him. And just like he was ready to face the consequences of his own lie (though a part of him still insisted that he had NOT lied; that he had never spoken an untrue word to her all this time), she too should be ready to face the results of hers.
It would be a mistake to think of Legolas as a man. Though his looks and his capabilities of blending in often tempted one to perceive him in that fashion (or any other elf, for that matter), he was nothing like a man. His mind, even after so many millennia amongst humans, remained the mind of a Firstborn. His dislike for deceit and betrayal and pretense was still as strong as it had been in his far younger years in Middle Earth. He had not played with Irulan or any other human. Never made promises he could not keep. Never pretended to be someone he was not. He had attempted to test her and she had proven him that she was worthy of the highest respect.
She, on the other hand, had openly and repeatedly lied. She had elaborated and used the image of David to manipulate him. And this kind of deceit was not something he would allow to happen again. Grim determination enveloped him like the scales of a dragon. He had no intention of letting Irulan go. He had no intention of ending this relationship. On the contrary - now he wanted her more than ever. But he would make sure that she would NEVER EVER lie to him in this fashion again.
By the time he hotel was in view again, several hours later, his mind was ready for the fiercest of discussions. He would back her yet into another corner and take what he wanted. In this case, it was Irulan herself that he wanted.
He had no idea of course that his battle strategies were needless. Irulan would grant him with his wish in a far more eccentric way he could have imagined.
***
Irulan waited in silent agony. The fact that she had no means to return home was very frightening. She thought about calling Anne and having her send in some money. But even if Anne did so under her name, she had no ID and no passport to withdraw it from the bank. Even if she got the money, she could not use it to leave the country – again, because she lacked a passport to prove that she had entered it, in the first place. The more she thought, the more she realized that she was literally trapped here, with no means out. No means, other than Legolas.
But that was not the main reason for her anguish at the moment. She had failed Legolas. Which was terrible. And what was yet even more terrible was the fact that she had failed herself. All the respect she used to have for herself was gone. She had intentionally lied to a person who had shown feelings for her and played with him. Even though that had not been her objective, she had brought up the issue of David too many times to make it an innocent act. Too many times she had elaborated about her devotion and love for him. In the end, it had become something downright humiliating.
"Aragorn's heir indeed!" she hissed to herself, tears rushing to her eyes again. "You are not worthy of him, Irulan! You have lied to his best friend. Congratulations!" Her torture on herself continued and became even deeper as the minutes dragged by and turned into hours. Legolas still did not return. The pain became unbearable and Irulan sat thinking why that was. "He has treated me so incredibly nice, why else?!" she said to herself. A sly part of her simply snorted at that.
She sat there and thought back to the times they had spent together. What had actually happened? She had admired him. Then she had met him. Upon which she had found him rude and irritating. Afterwards she had thought him downright terrible. Then somewhere along the line she had feared and perhaps even detested him. And after that……well…she had……respected him. For his strength of character. And she had looked up at him. For his skills, his culture and his experience. After that it had been rather natural. With the ease of a river running downhill, she had begun to like Legolas. In a painfully addictive way.
There was something in him…SOMEONE in him that she both felt incredibly tempted to know, and yet feared to know at the same time. She wanted to unearth him, breathe life into him, bring him back amongst the living. And yet, she feared the man that would come out of that shell, that cocoon. What strange creature would unfold wings? What chilling eyes would she be looking into?
Of one thing, Irulan was certain: she liked him. And she wanted his company. She wanted him to remain beside her and speak of tales that held the mystery and romance she had always dreamt of. She wanted him to take her to places ad show her a different face of this world. All her boyfriends had been so shallow and rude. Compared to them, Legolas was like a god. He was daring, yet kind. He was bold, and yet respectful. Irulan had no imaginations of a relationship with him. That was too far-fetched a thing to think (especially after this last incident). But nevertheless, just to be with him was such an amazing experience!
As the time grew longer and longer…..a strange thought came knocking on the door of her mind. So peculiarly and so shyly it knocked, that first she did not even take is serious. But it came flying back, like a buzzing, annoying insect that refused to go away. She kept swatting, but it returned. Again. And again. Until she listened to it. And it made sense. Actually very much so. And true enough, it was the only way to fix things. The only way. A path muddy, dangerous and rather frightening. But not as frightening as dishonor.
It might be difficult to understand Irulan's point of view. Perhaps it would help to remember that she is Aragorn's kin. And that the elves were right – that blood and lineage granted her things that were beyond her choice. One thing she was simply and downright incapable of, was to choose cowardice. To crawl away from her shame and her deeds. To run off and shrug off the consequences of her actions.
It was much later when she heard the door open and click shut. She took a deep breath, stood up and walked to the other room, just in time to see Legolas striding in. When their gazes collided, he stopped in mid-step and Irulan observed with a sinking heart that once again his face had assumed that legendary blank look. The one that had deserted his visage for the last day. "Where were you?" she said, the fear of her solitary hours finally finding expression.
He looked at her for another moment, then turned away. "I went for a walk," he said dismissively and strode into the room, taking off his jacket. He tried not to look at her again, since it only served to evoke feelings in him that were highly distractive, to say the least. Feelings that sung of strange actions. Such as grabbing her and kissing her until she relented to be with him. Such as telling her about his heart and his mind and his true desire for her. Such as baring his soul to her and admitting everything – from the test of the Circle to his doubtless defeat at it. Such as embracing her and quenching his thirst for her physical closeness.
A dangerous song. A hasty and most tricky song. He placed his jacket on the armchair, his hands unconsciously smoothing it as he remained with his back turned to her, afraid to give in to the temptation of the sirens of his mind. Legolas was aware that the matter needed solving. That it stood between them and their possible future (one that he was hoping and aiming for, anyway) like a great, spiky obstacle. But to his own alarm, the decisiveness that he had just barely moments ago when he strode into the hotel, had vanished at the sight of her face. And as amazing as it was, at the moment he had absolutely no idea how to approach the subject. Should he be angry? Relieved? Should he apologize for handling her rudely and striding out like that? Or should he simply accept her apology and grant forgiveness? Should he be gentle or rough? He sighed in frustration, leaning further on the armchair, his shoulders rising as his chin rested on his chest.
Irulan cast her gaze down and remained watching his back. Until the slap of the shame became a sizzling pain, asking for relief. "Legolas," she began cautiously, "I really-.."
"No need for further apology, Irulan. I heard you the first time," he cut in, his own frustration making his voice blank and emotionless. She exhaled in defeat and remained silent behind him. A moment later he suddenly turned to her. "Did you eat?"
She looked at him, stupefied, then slowly shook her head. He gazed at the window, although he did not really need to do that to assess the time of the day (all elves were gifted with an instinctive knowledge of that – of a biological clock, so to say). "You should. You can not stay hungry the whole day." With that, the elf walked to the phone. "What would you like to have?"
Irulan just exhaled in frustration once more, turning away. "Nothing. Legolas, I'm not hungry," she said, waving her hand in a dismissive manner.
"You must eat," he said, giving her a long look. "Would you rather go out, instead?" When she did not reply, he sighed softly. "Forgive me, I know your first day in Paris did not start off well." Irulan only nodded, still not able to look up at him. "Nevertheless, we need to have lunch," he added then with a more determined tone.
"Legolas," she said with a tired voice and a few moments later finally locked eyes with him again. It took a lot of willpower to look into those eyes and not be discouraged by their inexpressive state. She halted for a moment, then took a deep breath and before she could change her mind, said "I want to pledge debt of honor."
He just looked at her, not a single muscle moving. Irulan stared back with steely determination. There! She had said it. Now nothing could reverse the process. And that was a good thing, because the human part in her was more than tempted to go back on it.
A long moment passed. Time seemed to be frozen as his stare became heavier and heavier, but she refused to look away. "You don't know what you are saying," was his slow reply as his eyes narrowed while his grasp on the phone seemed forgotten.
Irulan shifted to stand more erect, pushing her shoulders back. "I do," was her flat answer. Who knew she had this much guts? She herself did not. 'Fool! Fool! What have you done?!' screamed a part of her. But it was not terribly strong. Her shame, for instance, was stronger.
Legolas regarded her for another moment, then managed to look away, a forced disinterest in his voice. "There is no need for an act of that measure. You were right – from the beginning it was a mistake. I should have never attempted," he said, his mind lingering on the wager. He locked eyes with her again. "It is me who should apologize. For I started it, against your wish."
Instead of giving in, Irulan seemed to grow more determined at his words. "I have lied to you. And caused you dishonor. I pledge debt of honor."
"I decline that pledge," he said, turning away once more.
He had obviously misjudged Irulan. She was, after all, not an ordinary woman. His head snapped around at her tone of voice that followed: "I am Aragorn's kin!" she said and it sounded incredibly threatening. The elf blinked in surprise, halting in mid-action. "You will NOT refuse me," she seethed.
Legolas walked towards her, step by step. Any other time, she would have felt intimidated and step back. Not today, though. "Do you have any idea," he said with a growl, "what you are offering?"
"I am offering anything you ask for," she said, her voice sharp but blank. A moment passed between them. "Was that not your wish, anyway?"
He raised his chin, his crystal eyes meeting her dark orbs. "You are a child, Irulan," he said finally, not knowing what else to say to that. Mainly because a major part of him stirred dangerously in reply to the offer. And the temptation to give in and accept became almost sharp in its intensity. To Irulan's luck, Legolas was not a Man, but an elf. And even though the temptation was incredible, he was strong in the face of it. And too well mannered to take advantage of an offer like this.
"I am no child," she growled then and took another step towards him. "I was no child yesterday, Legolas, was I?" It came out rather amused and Irulan felt instantly amazed by her own boldness. Another short silence set in and she broke it soon enough: "I know that you will not demand anything unbefitting of me. So-.."
"And how, may I ask, do you know that?" was his flat intervention. She looked up in surprise at his pose – his feet slightly apart, his arms crossed on his chest.
Now that was not something she had been expecting. Irulan swallowed softly, then said "Well.....well because.....you are an.......elf." His eyebrow rose and for the first time since this morning, he smiled. Though it was a disturbing one, it still felt good to see him smile. "You would not ask me of.......I mean you would not......" she stammered, despite herself, her image crumbling too swift for her liking.
"I can ask anything I want," he said almost with a feral attitude, and continued his approach of her. "Retrace your offer, Irulan. You do not have the heart to fulfill it."
And that was definitely the wrong thing to say to someone like Irulan. She took a sharp breath and ignored the pleading of her mind that told her not to be foolish and act sentimental to the comment. "I have more heart than you think, Lord Legolas!" she hissed. "And I am ready to prove it."
He stood before her, looming, his coldness giving in to amusement against all odds. "Are you now?" he said slowly, inspecting her fearful and yet determined expression. "What if I asked to kiss you, Irulan?"
Irulan blinked, her eyes widening with surprise. "W-what?!" she managed to say a moment later.
A smug smile crawled on his lips. He waited another moment, then said "See what I mean?" He turned away in disinterest, his amusement not changing for the worse, though. "Nevertheless, I respect your courage to offer it, of course. It was a very -..."
"Kiss me then."
Legolas halted for the third time and did not turn to face her immediately. He had to force down the sudden excitement that had exploded in him, first. When he did turn around, his heart was hammering like some stupid machine, but his face was as blank as ever (thanks to millennia of training). He looked at her for a long time, and she glared back, a mixture of anger, determination, fear and unease on her face. "I ask you one last time," he said slowly, his voice almost a whisper now. "Take back your pledge. It is unnecessary and unwise of you."
And how right he was! Kind, too. Cause her own pick of words instead of "unwise" would be "Stupid" and "Idiotic".
"I am ready to face the consequences of my actions," Irulan said slowly, her eyes dark pools of determination. Actually at the moment she felt no determination whatsoever, but rather stubbornness and something that could only be described as pride. She would not turn her back to her mistakes and recede into a dark corner. She never had and was not about to start today.
"Very well," Legolas said finally, elven blankness hiding the thrill he was feeling. He had tried to change her mind. He really had. If this was her wish...well....who was he to stop her? Biting down the grin, he approached her again and stood looking down at her as Irulan gazed up without blinking. "I accept your pledge then. And I bind your will to mine for a fitting time."
She did not move or look away, but he saw the flicker of relief dancing across her features momentarily. Followed by a soft and long exhale. A few moments passed, taking the tenseness and the alarm she had been feeling since this morning, with them. It was childish. But at that moment, all Irulan wanted was for that dreadful atmosphere to disappear. She only desired to return to the gentle and thoughtful Legolas. She wanted to go back to their conversations and the amazing feeling of sharing something with another.
"I suppose I deserve a punishment," she said finally, tearing her gaze from him, clear exasperation in her voice. 'Some Paris adventure indeed!' she thought with slight dismay.
"Yes you do," he said, and his voice betrayed amusement, though his features did not. Irulan remained rooted, not sure what would follow. Of all possibilities, she did not expect the touch of his hand on her cheek. The only reason why she did not jump at the action was mainly because she was too surprised to react. Unwillingly her eyes found his visage again as Legolas moved even closer and stood so close that the warmth of his body was perceivable.
Irulan swallowed softly, feeling suddenly very uneasy. Her pledge held no regret. But certainly Legolas would not take advantage of such a thing. Right? "What are you doing?" she whispered, aware that her alarm was evident in her tone.
"Whatever I want to," was his rather dismissive reply. A moment later he leaned in and placed his lips on her neck and she gasped despite herself, instinctively trying to step away. But that action was refused by Legolas, whose other hand had found her waist and prevented any movement on her behalf. His lips lifted from her skin. But only for a moment, and after an interlude, during which his warm breath did rather discomforting things to Irulan's heart pace, they ended up in another kiss, a little further up her neck. She tried to step away again, to no avail. "Do not move," he said, and the embedded, but rather evident command in his tone made her obey. The third kiss that was at the junction of her ear and her neckline made her bite her lower lip ferociously, because it was downright devastating. Irulan closed her eyes, a chaos of fire and ice battling within her. A part of her was tempted to give in and another part remained scared witless.
Thankfully it stopped then and only when she felt him pulling away did she find the courage to open her eyes again. Legolas ignored the expression of alarm and shock on her face and ran his fingers through her long hair, his eyes following his gesture. The Valar must be very fond of him this day, for at the verge of losing everything, he had been offered a gift like no other. Though of course he had no intentions of abusing his rights over Irulan, the line between abuse and well deserved rights on her was rather tricky. And that felt immensely good. He sighed in satisfaction, finally locking eyes with her as his fingers trailed to her cheek again.
"I think I earned that much," he whispered. Irulan did not answer. She did not have the strength or the heart to do so. "Now," he said softly, feeling more excited and happy than in a very, very long time, "let us go and eat."
"I.....am not hungry," Irulan whispered, dazed.
"We will eat anyway," he said with soft determination and released her. "You will need your jacket. It is rather cool outside."
Irulan blinked and confused at the recent turn of things, ran her hand through her hair. "But I-"
"Irulan," was his low intervention and her head snapped up at the tone of gentle warning. "Your jacket."
She stared at him for another moment, then walked into the bedchamber to get it. 'This is not good,' she thought with a sinking heart, 'not good at all!'
And right she was.
***
Legolas took her to a little and cozy and rather plain restaurant and when Irulan still was not certain what she wanted, ordered in her stead. This time he did neither ask nor hesitate before he entwined his hand with hers on the table. The action, though done in the most natural fashion, was nevertheless awkward for Irulan, who felt tempted to take her hand back, but knew with grave perception that that choice was beyond her now.
She decided not to talk about the matter. That decision lasted about three minutes. "This does not seem a fitting demand of me," she burst at the end of that short time.
The elf glanced up at her, then leaned slightly back in his seat without releasing her hand. "I will decide what is fitting or not," he said slowly, his tone speaking of enjoyment.
Irulan once again found the napkin and decided to make it pay for these happenings. "I don't think the debt of honor includes-"
"What exactly do you know about the debt of honor, Irulan?" was the matter-of-fact intervention.
Startled, she remained speechless for a moment. "Well......I.....not much." A moment passed. "I read about it in the archives of the Circle," she added.
Legolas remained expressionless. "Then you must know that I can do whatever I want with you." She pursed her lips and remained gazing back at him with unease. He leaned onto the table, his fingers playing with hers. "I am master to you now. Until I deem your debt paid, you are sentenced to my wishes."
"I know," she said a little tersely and was about to add that this information did not exactly explain why he was holding her hand, when he cut in smoothly:
"And believe me, you do NOT want me to punish you." The look in his crystal eyes made a believer of Irulan right there and then. They remained locked to each other's gaze as her anger dissolved into slight intimidation and the elf continued leisurely: "The last time that pledge was made to me, I was not this merciful."
She released the napkin then, rather afraid at this point. 'Just let him hold your damn hand!' said the voice in her head. 'Don't you dare do anything to invoke his fury, Irulan!'
"Fear not. I am not a man of vengeance. Though your lies have offended me greatly, I seek no pain on your behalf," he said somewhat gently. She nodded to that. "However," he continued, "I will take advantage of my rights over you." He let her stare back another moment in unease, then continued: "Your company gives me great pleasure. And my company will give great pleasure to you, if you but let it be so."
"How long was.....the....I mean how long the last pledge?"
A very peculiar smile came up to his lips and he did not speak as the wine was served. Only after the waitress left, did he continue: "Rather short. In elven standards, anyway. But then, he was a man of obedience," he added pointedly. He kissed the back of her hand before he released it and she picked up her glass. No doubt that wine was becoming a strong habit for her. And it seemed to taste so much better here. "Only 22 years of serving was a demonstration of my forgiveness and tolerance," he said dismissively, picking up his own wineglass.
"WHAT?!" she exploded, making several heads turn in their direction.
Legoals, though, continued spreading his napkin and smiled up to her sincerely. The curiosity of the others held no importance for him. "Yes, indeed. Many thought he deserved far longer. But I am not a cruel man."
Her mouth fell open and to her own demise, her brain was washed blank. The shock ran through her like a wave of earthquake. The elf observed her for another moment, then chuckled lightly. "Irulan," he said suddenly, "look at me." She obeyed reluctantly. His gaze held a softness this time. "Do not fear me. There are limits that I would never cross." Slight as it may be, relief came over her at his words.
"I know," she said with a shaky voice.
Suddenly he got up and moved his chair closer to hers. To sit across one another was too great a distance for him at the moment. Now that all obstacles were cleared, he felt an immense urge to be closer to her. To be as close to her as possible. Something incredibly majestic was blooming in him at the thought of it. Like an exotic plant, a species unknown before. How he wanted to smell it! To touch the strange petals of it! To watch it open up to sunrise and close with the dusk! The Valar had arranged things to happen in this fashion. And they were right…who was he to speak in the arena where gods clashed?
He found her hand again and gently kissed it several times. "Let us breach the walls that keep us hidden from one another," he said slowly. A waiter rushed to replace his plate and his cutlery to the new position, but Legolas remained oblivious to him, not looking away from her.
"I do not want to breach walls," was her whine of a reply.
He looked around the restaurant for a moment. "Curse of the times," he said then and when Irulan locked eyes with him again, continued matter-of-factly: "Your kind has forgotten what a woman is and what a man should be."
The look on her face became bafflement and she raised her eyebrows in a questioning manner. "What a woman IS?" He nodded in amusement to her already forming defensive attitude. "And what IS a woman, Legolas?"
Legolas smiled, playing with her fingers and taking his time to reply. "A woman, Irulan," he said with a beguiling smile, "is the finest of creations."
She gave him a smirk that spoke of disbelief and he chuckled lightly. "Have I ever told you anything untrue?" Satisfied with her silent but rather discomforted stance, he continued: "And I have no reason to do so now. In all my years in this world, your gender is one of very few things that has not deteriorated or grown less in beauty."
"You just say that cause you want to soften me for the upcoming and God knows how infuriating statement!"
Legolas laughed at that and once again, it chimed in the restaurant, making heads turn. 'He could win an argument simply by laughing,' Irulan thought to herself. "No. I say it because it is true."
"Very well," she said, a little shaken by that laughter but not ready to give in yet, "but I am sure that you mean to make a point here."
He nodded with amusement. "Once again, I am only honest when I say that I am no believer in the equality of genders."
Her eyes widened. "What?" she exclaimed, amazed and intrigued at the same time.
Legolas shrugged gracefully. "We are not equal. Such an idea is foolish and fits only many of the foolish ideas of the times."
"I can't believe how.....conservative and......stiff you are!" she said softly, amazed. He smiled again and remained silent as she bolted "Oh I know! You think you men are better because-"
"I never said that men were better," he cut in, and Irulan halted with unease. "I said we are not equal. No doubt that the female gender is superior."
Taken by surprise at such a thing, she remained too startled to find a reply. Legolas smiled again, caressing her hand and not diverting his gaze. "It is only true," he said with a sigh, cocking his head to take a better look at her. "You and me, Irulan, are not equal. We were not created to be so. And nature knows best. I find it foolish to argue the opposite." A short silence followed. Finally he continued: "But...apart from the whole superiority and inferiority issue......nature has placed us in certain roles. And I think only conformity with those roles will bring the sought happiness and satisfaction."
"Roles?" she asked, suspicion creeping into her voice again.
Legolas leaned forward and placed his arms on the table. "The role of a woman and the role of a man. Roles that have, no doubt, been forgotten. Which is the true source of unhappiness in this world."
"Oh I see now," she said dryly. "Women are supposed to stay at home and men can rule the world."
The elf waved his hand dismissively. "Do not insult your own intelligence, Irulan," was his sole statement and it miraculously shut her up. "Let us not go into extreme and foolish categorizations. I think it is perfectly fine and fitting for the female gender to engage in all activities that men do. As a matter of fact, it is my observation that they are often far more adept in those than their male counterparts, anyway." He placed a kiss on the back of her hand and she swallowed softly at the effect that had on her. "My concern is the roles in relationships."
"Alright. Explain," she said finally, throwing back her hair.
He smiled slyly before he continued: "I suppose to elaborate further on an example would be more helpful."
"An example? Like?....."
"Like you and me."
She stared back in surprise, then looked away with slight unease and embarrassment. Elves were too damn bold and straightforward! "There is no you and me," she managed to say finally.
"Yet," he added with satisfaction and ignored her stifled moan. "But let us assume that there was."
"Well....perhaps another exam-"
"If you were my woman...."
"YOUR woman? That sounds downright wrong," she cut in hastily, this whole example issue already getting on her nerves.
"No it does not," was his rather solemn reply. "Which would make me your man. I think you need to shed your human way of thinking – a thinking that only knows possession and ownership." Feeling childish and foolish, she decided to keep silent unless something intelligent occurred to her. "Anyway....if you were my woman, I would demand you to BE a woman."
"Which means exactly what?"
"Which means," he said, his eyes boring into hers, "that you should be the sole ruler of my heart. And I would give in to your reign without the slightest hesitation." She swallowed softly, her heart pushing against its confinements. "In return, Irulan, you would have to submit to mine." Irulan opened her mouth to reply, but halted as his expression gained a melancholic edge to it and his eyes glazed. Legolas swallowed softly and once again looked away, to the couples and groups in the restaurant, talking, laughing, listening. "All my life," he said suddenly, and it was a low and sad tone that she had not heard from him before, "I have envied the kind of couple Arwen and Aragorn were." Startled, she remained unmoving. It was the first time he had ever spoken of Aragorn. And she knew that he did not do so often. "In the deepest corners of my spirit, it is what I have always desired."
When he locked eyes with her again, Irulan found herself at a loss of words. Many moments passed between them and the waitress brought in the food, but neither made an attempt to eat. "What were they like?" she said finally with a hoarse voice, afraid that he would refuse to answer or tense at the request.
But Legolas did neither. He looked at her for a long moment, then simply said "Perfect."
Another, shorter silence followed and not daring to continue asking, as if it was a sacred and rather private realm and not fit for questioning, she respectfully kept silent. It was a surprise that he continued without the request. "You have much resemblance to Aragorn."
Her head snapped up in surprise and she saw none of the mocking or amusement she was expecting on his face. "I-I do?"
He nodded. "I failed to see it for a time. But it is very clear to me now."
Irulan laughed nervously, feeling hot for no apparent reason. Probably because that intense gaze had imprisoned her again! She massaged her neck, not looking away from the tablecloth as the elf suddenly discovered something really interesting - Irulan was indeed much like Aragorn. And Legolas himself was an elf, and both in character and nature rather similar to Arwen. As a couple, they were not too different. Of course there were major differences - the genders were reversed, the times were very different and therefore the characters not as they would be in Middle Earth.. There were also natural differences that made each and every person unique in the first place. But the essence was there. His heart suddenly stomped with that realization. For in his mind, a calculation of the strangest nature began. If they were so similar to that pair that he had always envied and looked up to....well....perhaps Irulan and himself too could......
"Stop looking at me like that," she said suddenly and broke his trance.
"Like what?" he said a moment later, his heart refusing to slow down and his brain reaching strange conclusions.
"I don't know. Like....THAT. Like you mean to......to own me or something," she laughed nervously.
Legolas though did not laugh and that only made her more nervous. And she was very nervous to begin with. "Perhaps such is my intention," was his slow reply, his face serious.
Irulan blinked and tried mightily not to blush. Rather intimidated and cornered, she retrieved her hand and picked up the fork. Not because she felt hungry, but because it was a far safer thing to do at the moment. "Anyway," she said, giving her salad a few strokes with the cutlery, "you were making a point about women and men. And that was.....?"
Legolas, feeling shaken but dueling it far better than Irulan, gracefully picked up his own fork. "The point is, a woman should allow herself to be spoiled, admired and adored. And a man should spoil, admire and adore her. It is in each's nature and satisfactory for both." A moment later he added "She should bend to his will and he should do everything in his power to fulfill hers."
"I don't think that I would want to bend to any man's will, Legolas," she said a little tersely, finally finding the courage to look up.
Legolas almost grinned. "I am not surprised," were his devious words. "However, I can not blame you. It is, no doubt, hard to find a man worthy of such trust." Irulan nodded curtly and began to eat her salad. Which tasted incredibly delicious, by the way. "Perhaps then," the elf said suddenly, with amusement in his tone, "your pledge will help you to overcome that stiff streak of yours?" A miracle saved her from coughing wildly. She hastily swallowed and glanced at him. The look in his eyes was downright dangerous. "After all, I am a man. And bending to my will might be good exercise for you, Irulan."
"I don't think so!" she said sharply.
His eyebrows rose and Irulan knew that she was walking on dangerous ground. For if she proved to be stubborn or persistent in the matter, Legolas would no doubt break that persistence in the most discomforting manner. "Is your will not bound to mine now, Irulan?" came the slow question and she almost cringed at the dare in his tone.
"It is," she said with a little defeat.
"And will you not do all I ask of you?"
It took her a moment to answer. 'Thank you very much for putting yourself in this position, Irulan!' said a sharp voice in her head. "I will."
Legolas suppressed a smile at her battle. No doubt that such a thing was extremely hard for a woman like Irulan. It would be impossible for Aragorn. But then....she had asked it herself. And the Valar knew that she needed a real man! Someone to take the reigns and -though it would perhaps be unwillingly on her behalf in the beginning- show her that to sit back and enjoy the ride was more pleasurable than to drive the cart herself all the time. "Good," he said finally. "For a moment I thought you meant to object." She looked up, her brown eyes betraying both annoyance and yet intimidation. "THAT would have been a terrible mistake, Irulan," he said slowly and watched the words sink in. He smiled a bright smile. "Do you like your salad?"
She blinked and looked down. "I do. It is very good," was her reluctant response.
"Good. Let us eat, then. The Versailles is not open all day."
A spark of excitement settled into her eyes and Legolas pretended not to see it, to spare her the embarrassment. When she picked up the fork again, it was with more enthusiasm.
****
