Author: Mirrordance
Title: Return
Summary: Post-LOTR. Legolas always felt at odds with his home kingdom. Though it's King by birthright, he fled it, building a prosperous colony in Ithilien. Just when all seems well at last, great dangers in Mirkwood call for the return of THIS King home.
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PART THIRTEEN
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The King's study was dimly lit by a single iron holder that housed three fading candles. It was poised upon the desk, and danced with the same night breezes that teased the curtains and crept from the windows.
Thranduil was sitting amidst his layered robes on the floor, shackled and guarded by two of Torres' subordinates. The King looked anything but battered and bedraggled, though. His stance was as royal as ever, as if he sat upon his throne instead of on the hard ground. His face, though bruised, was carefully composed and the hit from earlier looked more like a proud shadow on a sculpted face, rather than an injury.
Torres watched him carefully, impressed by his show of strength, as always. He desperately wished things were different. But then again, here they all were and there was really nothing else to do.
~I often wish I was someone else,~ he admitted to the King. In contrast, he looked gaunter than ever, and tired and strangely old. He turned his face away, towards the windows, ~Someone better.~
~Some people wish for such things,~ said Thranduil evenly, ~And some people act towards them.~
~I suppose you fancy yourself to be a part of the latter,~ said Torres.
~Mostly,~ replied the King after a moment of thought, ~Although… I have made mistakes, and lived through hardships I once thought to be irredeemable myself. And at that point, one could do naught else but wish for better things. But I've often been proven wrong.~
~Proven wrong?~ Torres inquired.
~In that I once found the problems insurmountable,~ Thranduil replied.
~Often?~ Torres asked.
~Often enough,~ Thranduil corrected himself.
~Where is your wife the queen, my lord?~ Torres asked suddenly.
~She died,~ Thranduil replied swiftly, a cold calm coming over his eyes, as if a wall was suddenly raised between them. He did not wish to speak of a loss that was never too distant from his broken heart.
~And you've two sons who hate each other,~ Torres pointed out, ~And a Kingdom under siege. I wager you aren't a very happy fellow.~
~You'd be surprised,~ Thranduil told him, ~I think I'm giving up writing things off as irredeemable. This will pass. And I shall emerge on the other side. I always have.~
~Always is a big word,~ Torres told him evenly.
~That is why you always find yourself wishing, rather than doing,~ Thranduil told him, ~Torres… I've seen my kingdom come to the very edges of ashes only to rise in greatness again. In my lifetime, I've seen a great deal of evil for a great length of time defeated by a little hobbit. I've had one dead some come back to life. You can be anything that you can possibly desire.~
~It all makes sense,~ Torres conceded, ~Then again, you are shackled there on the floor and I am here, I've just wrested your kingdom from you. Perhaps you should not be giving me life lessons.~
~A kingdom is a decorative pile of rocks,~ Thranduil told him fervently, ~The reality of it is the strength you see upon the leader, and his people. It is a spirit that does not bow before the gravest of circumstances.~
The door to the study opened, and a guard peered inside.
~What?~ Torres snapped at him, annoyed at the intrusion.
~There's a problem,~ the guard said.
Torres looked at Thranduil accusingly, but the King just blinked at him, pleased with himself and not bothering to hide much of it.
~They move, my lord, and you will die,~ Torres told him gravely.
~I know,~ Thranduil said with glinting eyes, ~Let them come. If you think about it, Torres, I'm nothing but a pile of rocks myself. A symbol simply reminiscent of a greater reality. If I am as good a King as I hope and desperately worked to live to be, all will be well thereafter.~
~Such a sacrifice will not be necessary,~ a voice said from the door. The King's eyes lit up all the more.
Legolas!
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Legardo had led them to the King's study, and this time, they were not bashful at all about entering through the front door, fortified though it was by over a dozen of armed Forgotten Elves outside, and a few more within.
The guards watched them with caution and alarm, noting that their leader's wife was dangerously in their clutches.
"If you would be kind enough to announce our arrival, master elf," Gimli said to one of the guards, menacingly rubbing his fingers against the handle of his glinting axe.
~There's a problem,~ the guard had said, and the idea of being announced as a scourge was almost amusing to Aragorn, if his concentration was not so intent upon keeping their backs clean.
Behind Legolas and Yasmina, he, Legardo and Gimli stepped into the study, and Torres watched the new arrivals with his darkened eyes narrowed, measuring.
~The woman is naught but trouble,~ Torres said, ~Do with her as you please, she means nothing to me.~
Yasmina looked at him gratefully, and proudly.
Legolas' jaw tightened; he disliked playing dirty, but really. There were things that needed doing, and this was the cards he was dealt. He had no choice but to play the role bestowed upon him by his fate. The knife upon his sure hands slid ever closer to Yasmina's pale skin, drawing a thin line of blood.
The sight of the rust-red bead made Torres tense, and he caught his breath as he pulled Thranduil to his feet and laid a knife upon the King's neck as well.
~And so here we are after everything,~ Torres said to Legolas, his voice dripping with malice, ~A hideous little stalemate. End her life, my Prince, and you will watch me eat your father, just before your own death at the hands of me and my men. You may have outwitted me, I know not how you've come to be here. But you are at the very core of my lair now, and all I need to do is call my soldiers back and you will be completely surrounded.~
~If I die,~ said Legolas, ~So do you. So do all of you. You can only pretend for so long that my army is one you could match, Torres. This is over. This was over before it properly began.~
Torres' brow quirked, ~Well. We all die then, after all. We really might as well start with your father.~
~Do it, Torres!~ Yasmina exclaimed, ~I care not if the last sight I shall have on this Earth is of him with his throat bared open.~
Torres glanced at her wistfully, and then faced Legolas with his eyes stern and determined, ~But I cannot pretend you hold no power over me, Prince Legolas. I am, once again, at a loss.~
Legolas' brows furrowed in thought. A stalemate. The air was rife with tension, cackling and teasing. There was so much potent energy here that it flew around, not knowing precisely where to go. The situation was explosive. A single, unthinking movement could wreck havoc.
~I will set her free,~ said Legolas, ~If you give me your word that my father is freed as well.~
Torres snorted at him, ~You would trust me?~
~Yes,~ Legolas said simply, staring at him, devouring him with his glacial eyes.
~Why?~ Torres asked, skeptical.
~It's a stalemate,~ Legolas replied, ~Therefore if we are to move forward, we must begin a new game.~
Aragorn whipped to face Legolas, as if he was insane.
Freeing one hand, Legolas drew out one of his white knives and tossed it before Torres' feet.
TO BE CONTINUED…
Original Character Guide:
Lesandro was the much-beloved heir to Mirkwood and Legolas' older brother, until he was murdered in the 2800's.
Legardo is Legolas' younger brother, and was the murderer of Lesandro, as Legolas finds out in "Exile." He tries to kill Legolas too, but fails and is imprisoned.
Lady Andrada is an old elf woman who fell in love with Thranduil but staged her own death to escape her unreturned love and subsequent despair in Mirkwood. She staged Legolas' death as well, to keep him from being a pawn in Sala's ambitions.
Torres – the leader of the Forgotten elves
Yasmina – Torres' beloved wife, also one of the Forgotten elves
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