Chapter 6: Say it now
I would like to say that I might not get another chapter up on this very soon. I've got a lot of other crap right now that's taking up my once writing time. Stupid school play! But, anyway, posting will be slower now, and probably that will be the same on all my other stories also.
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Legolas fell back on his bed, a hand covering his eyes. His head was pounding, and he dared not move in fear that time would move with him. Beside him, the bed shifted, and he felt Estel sit on its edge. The elf let out one little sob but tried to hold the rest back. Now was not the time to weep for what was lost. That would come later, but not around Estel. He removed his hand and peered into the man's face above him. Estel stares straight ahead at the brightening sky, his hands clasped tightly in his lap, his breaths short. There was a mask over his face to hide all emotion. For once, to Legolas, he felt the man behind the youthful soul, felt control radiating from Estel in waves. He felt Legolas' eyes on his back and turned around. Slowly, his grey eyes fell, and he smiled a weak smile.
"Legolas," he whispered, reaching out a hand towards the elf. Legolas sat up and leaned into the man's embrace, closing his eyes in contentment. Images raced through his mind, memories floating back of the past month. Estel...Estel...Aragorn, if you wished...but always Estel. "I suppose..."
"Must you go?" Legolas asked suddenly, rising to stand in front of Estel. Estel took both hands of the elf and lowered Legolas down to his eye-level.
"There is nothing I can do. Mayhap it is a good decision, seeing how Haldir behaved..." Legolas shook his head.
"I could have Haldir sent away, if he would comply. No, no matter what he did to you, you cannot just leave. He did not mean to hurt you; I saw it in his eyes." Both thought for a moment, each studying in their mind the face of that strange elf. "Haldir is...protective," Legolas explained, "and he loves me deeply. Would you not do the same if someone threatened to take me from your arms?"
"Were you then..." Legolas shushed Estel by putting a finger to the man's lips, all the while laughing. He scooted over to the bed and sat down beside Estel with a little sigh.
"Close friends, yes, and sometimes probably appearing to be lovers...though I never felt that way for him," Legolas hastily added at Estel's surprised expression. "Haldir has always been protective for me, and as I grew older, that just changed its shape, until now, when he is protective of our friendship. But no, dear Estel, having you gone will do nothing." A strand of hair fell in front of Legolas' face and carefully hid his tear-filled eyes. "Having you gone will only intensify that riff." He sniffed and turned away in shame, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him. Estel's warm arms wrapped around him, and Legolas fell back towards the man, burying his face in his tunic. "Oh, Estel," he sobbed. Estel shushed him and gently rocked back and forth, though all the while he wept too. Tears cascaded down his cheeks, the mask dissolving at the liquid's touch. He choked on a sob and hung his head, his chin resting on Legolas' hair.
"We won't be gone forever, though," he tried to say as comfort. "There shall come another time when we meet, I promise it. In fact, I think in a year..." So long, he though, so long.
"A year? That is a year for you to forget. For us to fade away. Estel, stay here," Legolas begged, "just remain in Mirkwood. My father would permit it, and who knows how many years we can spend here. Think about it! All of the forest open to us, free for us to wander, hand in hand, arm in arm. Estel? Estel?" Estel was staring outside into the rising sun. Suddenly, the light grew in his eyes, and he seized both of Legolas' hands.
"Legolas, the sun!" he cried. "The cursed sun of men." He held both of Legolas' hand to his chest like a madman. "Legolas, shall we meet again?" he asked frantically. Legolas sat up and tried to do something, but Estel was not himself. Legolas nodded solemnly.
"We shall meet again," he whispered. He took Estel's hands and wrapped his own around them, now pulling them towards his chest, where they rested above his heart. He let them fall, and so was their vow made. Legolas lowered his voice so that it was barely audible, but it both hearts the words resounded. "No matter what barriers stand between us, we shall be together, bound eternally until the ends of the earth by love and friendship, by hopes and by dreams, by our hearts and our very souls, and may death find us if ever we break these sacred words."
"I shall never leave your side, Legolas, my love," Estel finished, kissing the elf on the cheek.
"And the same I say to you, Aragorn, my Estel," Legolas agreed, kissing Estel's own cheek. Estel gulped once, and before he could contain himself, his lips were upon Legolas' again. They pulled away shortly, but looking into the tear-stained face of their lover weakened them more. Legolas held desperately to the man as he kissed the elf. Their tears mingled together along with their hearts, as the vow taken fell into their beings, a new weight to carry through their lives. Legolas pulled away and stared into Estel's eyes, caressing the human's cheek softly. Estel reached for a finger and gently kissed its tip.
"Oh, my love," he whispered.
"Nin meleth," Legolas breathed. "Estel nin meleth."
***
The delegates from Rivendell departed about noon. Legolas stood beside his father, standing with as much dignity as he could muster. His face fit into a fitting sad smile as he bid the guests farewell. Slowly, they filed away, riding on the backs of their shining horses, all smiles and laughs. They sang a song as they left, and beside Legolas Thranduil joined in the chorus. Legolas kept his mouth shut, for the traveling song was one of light and mirth, promising quick passage back home. He wished none of those upon the Rivendell elves.
Finally, the last few in line rode towards Legolas, Thranduil, and an assortment of other elves. Legolas saw in the very back the same chestnut horse he spotted one month ago. His flank shone now and he held his head proud, but his rider looked to the ground, nervously fiddling with part of his horse's mane. Legolas gulped and stared at his own feet until he heard the clop of the horse's hooves. He glanced nervously up and saw Estel bidding Thranduil farewell. The horse moved on, and their eyes met again. Legolas reached up at took Estel's hand in his own. Estel paused though and slipped something into the palm of the elf. Legolas clasped his hand around a piece of wood.
Without another backwards glance, Estel trotted ahead to catch up with the receding train of elves. Legolas took a few steps forward, towards the gate, but it swung shut in front of him, and the elves departed without a trace. A hand came to rest on Legolas' shoulder, and he looked up to see his father, smiling down at him warmly.
"Come, son," he said. Legolas, though, shook off the hand and stormed away in the other direction, leaving a bewildered father behind him. Tears threatened to spring into his eyes, but Legolas wiped the back of his hand over his eyes, and the water stayed where it should.
He reached the borders of the forest and plunged headlong into the depths, jumping over and around tree roots in a mad dash away from his home. He whispered Estel's name under his breath as a chant. Slowly, the forest thickened around him, and Legolas stopped beneath the bough of a large tree, falling to the ground in the safety of its roots. He rested his head against the smooth bark and took a few halting breaths. Tears streamed down his cheeks, and he buried his head in his knees.
Something dropped from his palm. He felt the weight and looked down through the haze. It was the piece of wood Estel gave him. Upon its surface was a great oak tree, skillfully carved. Beneath it was a lone figure, an elf, glancing up into the sky above. Little pinpricks of stars covered the top of the wood. Legolas ran his hand along the etching, his fingers feeling along the grooves as he traced the lines of the tree up to the stars.
He clutched the wood to his chest and wept.
The days passed, and Legolas put on as much of a mask of normality as he could. He told himself over and over that he would see Estel again, eventually, for Rivendell and Mirkwood kept up strong ties. Yes, he would see Estel again sometime, even if that time were not now. Legolas continued his normal life now as a prince, and he even, one week after Estel's departure, began his teasing again of Athakia. Of course, a cloud of misery floated just out of reach in his eyes, and it would often return to the surface. He would excuse himself from whatever it was he was doing and stand outside in the daylight to calm his unsteady heart.
Days blended to weeks. Weeks flowed into months, and yet, Legolas went without sight or word of his beloved. Around him, the forest melted into autumn. The leaves turned to gold and amber, and yet, when songs of coming winter used to grace the halls of Legolas' youth, there was only sadness at this time. It was in autumn that Legolas' mother disappeared, and out of curtsey for the grieving king, the halls took on a somber tone.
It was then that Haldir took his leave. Legolas awoke one morning to find the elf in his room, watching the prince sleep with sad eyes. Legolas walked to his friend and stood out, admiring the chill morning. The leaves rustled in the breeze, and some floated gently to the ground. Legolas looked over to Haldir and gasped when he saw a cloak about the elf's shoulders and a pack on his back.
"I must return to Lothlorien now," he announced to Legolas. Legolas felt his throat clench up, and he tried to reach forward with a hand, but Haldir forcefully shook him away. He frowned at Legolas. "It will be better now, for both of us," he replied sternly. Legolas opened his mouth and tried to explain, explain the feelings knotted up inside him, but all that came out was a little squeak. Haldir sighed and lightly pecked Legolas' cheek before gracefully departing from the room. That was all he said to Legolas, all the explanation needed. Legolas sat down on the floor where he was and rested his head in his hand. First Estel, now even Haldir gone (not that they had much contact in the first place), but Haldir had been there for support. He was a friend, a dear friend, one that could never be replaced.
Why did he have to go? Why was he always so selfish? Legolas glanced up and suddenly made up his mind. He stood up and ran out onto his balcony, flinging himself onto the nearest tree branch. He climbed down and ran across the leaf-riddled ground, towards the gates. He thought he caught the sound of hooves on stone, and he increased his pace, calling out Haldir's name as he went.
Finally, Legolas reached the gate. Haldir was waiting for him when he came, standing beside his horse, and Legolas stopped a few feet away.
"At least tell your friend a decent goodbye," he scolded. Haldir gulped and whirled around, making to mount his horse, when Legolas restrained him, pulling him backwards by his cloak. "Haldir, I have not forgotten you," Legolas whispered. Haldir looked to the ground.
"Then Estel..."
"That is a different bond, Haldir, but you, you are my closest friend and comrade, as you shall always be. Estel, my lover, and you, my friend," he breathed. Haldir looked up, and Legolas smiled and embraced him. Haldir started and slowly wrapped his arms around Legolas.
"Then, my friend, I should say goodbye?" he asked with just a little scorn on his voice. Legolas pulled away.
"Do not mock me," he admonished, "and leave your self-pity. You may never have me as a lover, but do not refuse my friendship that I offer freely." Haldir flinched at the words, but Legolas took his hand and guided him back to the horse that waited patiently. "Return to Lothlorien, Haldir, and think. Know though that I shall miss you, as I always have when you leave."
"And know that I shall miss you, Legolas," Haldir said as he sprang onto his horse's back. He looked down and touched Legolas' cheek once more before spurring his horse on and trotting into the forest beyond. Legolas touched his hand to that warm cheek and turned away slowly. Anger boiled in him, but he could not help but mourn for the loss of that friend now, when he felt utterly alone in the world.
A passing glimpse
A fading dream
Was that all it was
A long lost memory
To both of us?
Bring back that time
Bring it back for me
~*~*~*~Three months later~*~*~*~
And so winter came and went, giving way to the thaw of spring. In Imladris, the flowers bloomed again, and the trees grew their bright foliage. Streams ran through the winding paths and gardens came to life once more; courtyards alight with sun and with color. The elves were in high spirits with the coming of spring, holding many feasts and banquets. Song floated through the halls and along the pathways. There was light and mirth.
Of course, it did not reach the heart of one human.
Even now, when the sun shone bright overhead and Estel sat upon a marble bench in the garden, he could not shake the darkness over him. He was twenty-one now, his birthday only a week ago, but not even that brought him joy. For now, he felt that there was a clear path across the vastness of Middle-Earth to one forest, not so far away truthfully, and Mirkwood called to him. Messengers had come from there, but none would speak to him when he came to them. They gave no word of Legolas.
His foster-father also would not speak; merely telling Estel that darkness grew in Mirkwood once more, more so than usual, in fact. Estel had heard that many vile creatures lived in its depths, but he never suspected that they would be of any trouble. In fact, he could barely believe those stories, thinking back to what it looked like to him: bright, beautiful, and untroubled. His mind grew all the more worried.
And, of course, the images of Legolas had returned. There had been a period when Estel could look at something without somehow, thinking of Legolas, but that was over, and his mind returned to the fair elf constantly. He would gaze over to the peaks of the Misty Mountains beyond his home and sigh, for that divide stood between him and his only love.
He leaned back and sighed, closing his eyes and letting the sun wash over his face. Around him, birds called to each other, but Estel found no solace...
"Estel," a voice said beside him. Estel opened his eye and saw Elrond standing not three feet away. He sat back up and nodded to his foster-father. Elrond sat beside him and looked into the human's eyes.
"What troubles you?" Elrond suddenly asked. It threw Estel off balance that was for sure. "For I see that a shadow hangs over you, and it has for many months. I considered you were unready to leave from Mirkwood and you missed its forests at first, but when your mood never improved, I have begun to wonder." Estel hung his head and scooted away. Oh, what would he say? That nothing is wrong? Evidently a lie. Say that he misses Legolas? Even to speak the name would summon painful feelings. To say that the elf is his lover and that he wishes once more to set eyes upon the prince. His father would scorn him and never utter a word in his presence again. But, when he looked towards Elrond again, the normal frown was not there, replaced by a softening at the eyes and a twitch by the side of his mouth. Estel steeled himself against the unfamiliar smile on his foster-father's face, rising instead.
"I am restless," Estel lied, his voice wavering only slightly, "restless to move again, to go off somewhere." Elrond's face molded back to his frown; Estel could feel the annoyance radiating from the stare boring into his back, and he coughed.
"Estel, do not toy with me," Elrond threatened. "Is it the prince?" Estel visibly flinched, and he choked on his own breath. Elrond rose and in one fluid movement he was in front of Estel. "I can see that you miss your companion." Estel toyed with the idea of fleeing the scene before his emotions betrayed him but deemed that unwise and merely went to inspect the bark of a flowing tree while his mind turned over, along with his stomach. Oh, Legolas...
"I will honor whatever decision you have in your heart," Elrond said as he came to stand beside Estel. Estel gulped back the stinging words that came to mind and simply hung his head. Why then did he make Estel leave, if he obviously saw a link between him and the prince?
"What would I say of it?" Elrond asked suddenly, his voice spreading out over the garden in its traditional fashion. Estel jumped at the answer to his unasked question, though he was quite used to this habit of Elrond's. "Nothing, I suppose, as it should be, foster-son."
Suddenly, there was the patter of feet, and Estel and Elrond turned their heads as one to an archway leading out of the garden. A young elf bowed before them.
"My lord," he announced to Elrond, "a messenger comes from Mirkwood, bearing news to you. He requests you meet sometime this evening, though the time is open for your choice." Elrond looked back to Estel, whose eyes now shone with anticipation.
"Tell the messenger I shall be there shortly," Elrond told the boy, who bowed once more and darted away again. Elrond made to walk to the arch, but Estel's clearing of his throat stopped him.
"Why another messenger?" he asked. Elrond looked at him, and the faintest twinge of something played at the corner of his mouth, though it was far from a smile. Estel moved closer and pushed back Elrond to the arch. "Why so many messengers from Rivendell?"
"There is trouble in Mirkwood," Elrond began. "I do not think that Legolas has come to harm," he added hastily at Estel's wide-eyed stare. "But, there is more movement than usual among the forests other inhabitants, spiders and such suddenly coming alive with a vengeance. Many of the roads are unsafe to travel now, and King Thranduil is tied down in his own work trying to hold back the vile creatures." He paused, and Estel thought for a moment.
"Then that is why," he mused aloud, "but Legolas," he whispered, "oh, there is no...Yes...no...Why now of all times...Legolas..." He looked back at Elrond, who merely regarded him with a look of indifference.
"I have heard that Legolas is fairing well, somewhat more reserved now than usual, Thranduil told me in his last letter, but that is to be expected." Estel sat down heavily on the bench, his mind racing. Mirkwood is unsafe now, and Legolas is inaccessible, and he would not see the elf for a while; oh, he couldn't stand it. He couldn't stand any of it!
"So we shall not go to Mirkwood," Estel began.
"Until we must," Elrond finished. Estel looked down, but Elrond put an arm around him. "If it is any comfort, I am almost certain that Legolas remembers you just as sharply as you think of him," Elrond whispered. Estel looked up through a haze and gulped. Suddenly, Elrond straightened up and smoothed out his robes.
"I must be going," he said. He turned sharply and strode from the garden. At the archway, Elrond paused and glanced back at his son. A flash of light passed over his eyes, and he felt an unexplainable pang in his heart. Estel faded in and out of view. Instead of him, Elrond saw an older man, sitting upon a throne. His head was bowed much in the same manner as Estel's was. In front of him was a bound prisoner, an elf, by the looks of him, with fair hair and shining skin. "I do not see what fool would come up with such an accusation," the figure spat. The older Estel flinched.
But there was just Estel, along with the birds, and Elrond shook his head to clear it of the vision. He turned away and left the human to his own thoughts in the garden.
The coming of night found Rivendell having yet another party, but Estel was not present. He sat on his bed in his room, staring ahead at the world outside. Through his mind ran a plan of Rivendell. He mapped out the room where a banquet currently was, though he doubted it would be hard to avoid it. Then, of course, there were the servants to count in. He had watched them some nights, as he wandered alone through the hallways, and knew that there were few now. Most slept in their own quarters. Anyone else would be in the hall, laughing and singing now. So, the path was clear for Estel, he hoped.
Gritting his teeth, the human rose. He picked up his pack and shouldered it. Then, he lifted up two full saddlebags and carried one in each hand. He nudged open his door a crack with his foot and made sure the coast was clear. One safe, he ran along the corridor, using all of the stealth Legolas had taught him. He sprinted out into the open air and along a winding path. He ran down a flight of stairs that led to a courtyard, taking them two at a time and vaulting over the railing when he was close enough to the bottom. He slowed to a walk, panting, and hurriedly made for the shelter of the shadows near the stables.
He walked along the rows of stalls until he reached his horse's stall. The chestnut horse looked up and snorted at him, but Estel silence him quickly. He led the horse out and slung a saddle onto him. Quickly, he fixed the saddlebags on and vaulted on himself. The horse turned its head to one side and glanced back at Estel with one of its large, docile eyes, and Estel gave it a short kick. The horse trotted out into the courtyard and down the path out of Imladris. Estel glanced back mournfully, but there was no more turning back there.
It was a simple choice to leave. If Rivendell and Mirkwood would only keep up their alliance with messengers, there was little hope for Estel. He guessed that before there was a chance for him to see Legolas, he would go mad with waiting. He had left a note to Elrond that he needed to get out, needed to move again. Elrond would understand Estel, would keep his true destination a secret.
Now all Estel had to manage was to cross the miles between them, and he felt no pressure at that. It would not be a hard task at all to do. Of course, what awaited him in Mirkwood he did not know? There were too many questions to speculate on what Legolas' reaction would be, so Estel would just have to go and hope for the best. If it was that Legolas hated Estel's return, then he hated Estel's return. If their love was just a dream to Legolas, then so be it. As long as Estel could look on that youthful face once more, see the beautiful prince again, he would be content for the rest of his mortal years.
***
"The Enemy is trying to regain control of Dol Guldur, and our forces cannot hold it. There are not enough elves there, and by the time we send in any reinforcements, we would not have anything to defend," Thranduil said wearily. He put his head in his hands and moaned. Maps crackled as his elbows shifted on the table. Legolas looked up from where he had been examining a map of Dol Guldur.
"There are paths through the woods that would get the elves there soon enough, if you wish to try and keep Dol Guldur out of the Enemy's hand," Legolas informed him. "I have found them on many a scouting mission. There is a way to get elves down there soon enough to drive out the Enemy." Thranduil sighed.
"I would not dare risk sending you with them though, my son. You are my only heir, with your mother...you are my own heir," he finished after a pause. Legolas' head twitched as he considered bowing it, but he merely looked into Thranduil's eyes.
"Then you lose Dol Guldur, father," he said coldly. "You may make your choice." With that, Legolas rose. His chair scraped against the floor and broke the silence between them. Motioning to the maps, Legolas said, "You cannot stay idle though if you wish to act." He turned away and strode out of the room. Legolas cursed under his breath and stormed down the corridor. His father did not understand! Legolas needed to get out of here! What did Thranduil think was the explanation of Legolas' constant absence if not that?
He had spent the past four months patrolling the forests, too restless to remain in the palace while Estel's (Legolas flinched at the thought of the human) ghost lingered and drifted lazily through the corridors. In the forest, he could lose the human. There, he could patrol through Mirkwood and devote his time to other things. The elves kept good company, and he could let Estel be for a while. Whenever he was idle, Estel returned full force. That damned human! Oh, how Legolas treasured him, hated him, and loved him all the more for it.
And what a busy time it was. The Enemy once again had its sights on Mirkwood in hopes of regaining the control it had before. In many of the lands to the south already darkness had returned, foul beasts living there. Orcs would enter the borders even, prowling about underneath the trees. There was much for Legolas to do to keep his mind away from the dark-haired human.
But, in the past few weeks, Legolas had found himself once more in the confines of the palace, trapped, alone with only his memories. For it was rumored by some of the scouts far to the south, near to Dol Guldur, that one or more of the Nine had crossed the borders of Mirkwood. Most of the southern elves pulled away, including Legolas, who, with his party, had been heading down that way. His father recalled that scouting mission and Legolas found himself back in the halls that whispered to him phrases Estel once said, mirrors showing his face, trees laughing like he once laughed.
Legolas became a recluse then, in a sour mood by his father's recall and plagued by memories. He had slowly, over that time, grown harder, colder than, not as playful as he once was. His father said that the elf was finally growing up. Legolas glowered at him for saying it and left the room before tears would come to him as he felt that Estel was all but forgotten by them. He spent days in his rooms or in conference with his father and other advisors, planning what to do about the southern lands.
"Curse it all," he muttered as he stepped into his chambers. A cool breeze blew through the silk curtains. Legolas grumbled and shut them, complaining about servants leaving them open. They were shut when he exited his room last. Legolas crossed to his bed and collapsed on the soft sheets. He pulled off his boots and threw them to one side of the room, letting out a sigh and closing his eyes afterwards. He was weary in his mind. Too much bothered him now.
"Oh, Estel, why do you always have to come around when I should have a clear mind...?" There was a rustling behind him, and Legolas sprang up, a knife that he always kept on his person out. But there was no one there. The room looked as it always should without anything out of place at all. Still, Legolas' spine tingled. He slowly circled once in place, dagger out, senses scanning the room. Nothing. Slowly, he settled back down onto the bed, sitting up now, his eyes constantly watching his surroundings.
Still, his instincts told him to get up and search his rooms. His senses told him else wise.
Legolas rose and silently glided across the floor. The door to his study was open, and he cautiously stepped over the threshold to the room. It looked normal enough to him, nothing at all out of place...
There was a sharp intake of breath, and Legolas whirled around.
The knife was only inches from the captor's face, and Legolas would have driven it into the man's head out of anger for the world. But he stopped, his breath catching in his throat. The intruder looked at him with wide eyes, pleading, hoping. Around them, the world moved, but in a little bubble time stopped, frozen on that one moment when the knife stopped and their eyes met. Frozen in time, just long enough for Legolas to see a small glimmer in that unfamiliar face, to see something familiar about it. He gulped. His hold on the knife loosened, and it fell to the floor with a clang.
Legolas stepped a few paces back, groping for a chair to sit down. He legs threatened to give way, but his mind screamed at him to do something other than that, something better, more fitting. He found the chair and fell back into it. His hands shook as they grasped the arms, his knuckles white. In front of him, the figure stared sadly in his direction.
"Hello," the man said, his face breaking to a sad smile. As the skin shifted, the light caught some smooth droplets on its surface. He was crying. Legolas reached out with one trembling hand. The figure approached him and kneeled by his side. Legolas gently touched the cheek, ran his hand through the tangled hair. His bottom lip trembled, and he bit it.
Suddenly, the man sprang up and wrapped his arms around Legolas. He was smiling on his shoulder. The skin, so soft, so warm. Legolas collapsed in the embrace and tightly gripped the tunic. His heart threatened to burst from its holdings as he felt the rough material. For once, it was solid, not just an apparition that he would reach for. Those would flit away, but this stayed, solid, true real.
"How..." he whispered, but Estel silenced him, placing a finger to the elf's lips. Legolas looked into the strong grey eyes and blinked a few times. They were real.
"One month I traveled," Estel said, "and a month worth my time, my dear, dear friend." He took Legolas' face in both hands. "Oh, my love, nin meleth, dear Legolas." Legolas closed his eyes as Estel leaned forward.
"Welcome back, Estel," Legolas breathed before their lips met in a long postponed kiss.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Probably be ending this story soon, methinks. I'm not sure though. My muses are threatening to revolt if I keep up this "solving problems" stuff. But, I mean, it's not as if I don't have enough other depressing stories going as is, so they should be pleased. *glowers at muses*
Anyway, all reviews and comments are welcome...except flames, which should go as an understood rule as is.
Please review!