A/N: Hi everyone! I'm so happy you like my story. A few review responses
before I start:
Morrwen: I've never heard of The Seer and the Sword. I can only guess that
you think my story sounds a lot like it, but believe me it's not
intentional.
Moose Head: You're right. Aragorn is SO much hotter than Legolas. I know it
may not sound like it, but I'm an Aragorn fan girl all the way! I just
enjoy putting my favorite characters through torture.
Starkitty Angel: I know I'm evil, but that's the whole reason this story
works.
Anywho, on with the chapter:
Chapter 5: Loopholes
Lothien lay in her bed staring at the wood and stone ceiling above her. The King and Queen's funeral was in the morning. Protocol required her to go as a delegate for Mirkwood if nothing else. She could never love the royal family as their people had. She could never love the King half as much as Legolas had, or even as a friend. She did not love him to any degree.
Had her father even planned to go to the funeral? She would have to question him on it when he arrived.
Please hurry, Legolas, she thought, I'm here only for you, yet you aren't here. That was her last thought before she sunk into a deep resting state with her eyes wide open.
~~~~~~~
"Elf!" Legolas had the wind knocked out of him as a swift kick in the stomach jerked him out of his fitful sleep. He struggled to breathe for several seconds, then began to rise.
"A day more of travel and we'll reach the city! Then you'll wish you'd never been born!"
I already do. Legolas mounted the house and prepared for the last day of his journey that would bring him to the city he thought he'd left behind forever.
~~~~~~~
Faramir stormed into the court office of Minas Tirith. "Meclan!" he demanded angrily. "Where is he?"
"My Lord. . ."the page in the front room seemed confused.
"Bring him to me!"
the young Man hurried off, and moments later, the Truthsayer of Gondor stood before the Lord of Ithilien. Meclan was a scrawny Man, half of Faramir's height and less than a quarter of his strength. It was clear he had never been a soldier, and he had only gotten to the position he was in by greasing the palms of his superiors. He had no idea what life outside his own was like and, in Faramir's opinion, was the most unfit Man to rule the courts in Gondor.
Despite the difference in size, Meclan looked at Faramir with smug superiority. "You summoned me, My Lord?" His voice dripped with insult.
"Meclan, you idiot!" Faramir raged. "You ordered the arrest of an innocent Elf, not to mention a very dear friend of mine and the King's, without even consulting me first!"
"The reason I did not tell you, Lord Faramir, is that I knew your reaction would be this way."
"I am Steward of Gondor! I rule in the King's stead! I am to be consulted before any legal action is taken!"
Meclan smiled a disgusting smile, displaying crooked, yellowed teeth. "You are not the ruler of this land yet. Gondor is ruled by the dead King Elessar, and until you legally come into power, law states that authorities in the justice system, such as myself, have the right to do what they see best for the Kingdom, and right now, that is bringing the King's murderer to justice."
"The King was not murdered! Faramir shouted, "And even if he was, it would not be by his best friend!"
"I would try to avoid defending the attempted usurper of the crown, My Lord, or you might be mistaken as a partner of the Elf."
Faramir's voice lowered to a growl. "Is that a threat?"
"I'm not saying it wasn't."
In less than a second, the Steward's hand made contact with Meclan's face. The Truthsayer raised his hand to his face and wiped off the steady stream of blood trickling from his nose.
"Believe me, Meclan," he hissed, "when I do come into power, the beggar on the street will have more authority than you!" That said, Faramir swept out of the court office leaving Meclan tending his wound.
Chapter 5: Loopholes
Lothien lay in her bed staring at the wood and stone ceiling above her. The King and Queen's funeral was in the morning. Protocol required her to go as a delegate for Mirkwood if nothing else. She could never love the royal family as their people had. She could never love the King half as much as Legolas had, or even as a friend. She did not love him to any degree.
Had her father even planned to go to the funeral? She would have to question him on it when he arrived.
Please hurry, Legolas, she thought, I'm here only for you, yet you aren't here. That was her last thought before she sunk into a deep resting state with her eyes wide open.
~~~~~~~
"Elf!" Legolas had the wind knocked out of him as a swift kick in the stomach jerked him out of his fitful sleep. He struggled to breathe for several seconds, then began to rise.
"A day more of travel and we'll reach the city! Then you'll wish you'd never been born!"
I already do. Legolas mounted the house and prepared for the last day of his journey that would bring him to the city he thought he'd left behind forever.
~~~~~~~
Faramir stormed into the court office of Minas Tirith. "Meclan!" he demanded angrily. "Where is he?"
"My Lord. . ."the page in the front room seemed confused.
"Bring him to me!"
the young Man hurried off, and moments later, the Truthsayer of Gondor stood before the Lord of Ithilien. Meclan was a scrawny Man, half of Faramir's height and less than a quarter of his strength. It was clear he had never been a soldier, and he had only gotten to the position he was in by greasing the palms of his superiors. He had no idea what life outside his own was like and, in Faramir's opinion, was the most unfit Man to rule the courts in Gondor.
Despite the difference in size, Meclan looked at Faramir with smug superiority. "You summoned me, My Lord?" His voice dripped with insult.
"Meclan, you idiot!" Faramir raged. "You ordered the arrest of an innocent Elf, not to mention a very dear friend of mine and the King's, without even consulting me first!"
"The reason I did not tell you, Lord Faramir, is that I knew your reaction would be this way."
"I am Steward of Gondor! I rule in the King's stead! I am to be consulted before any legal action is taken!"
Meclan smiled a disgusting smile, displaying crooked, yellowed teeth. "You are not the ruler of this land yet. Gondor is ruled by the dead King Elessar, and until you legally come into power, law states that authorities in the justice system, such as myself, have the right to do what they see best for the Kingdom, and right now, that is bringing the King's murderer to justice."
"The King was not murdered! Faramir shouted, "And even if he was, it would not be by his best friend!"
"I would try to avoid defending the attempted usurper of the crown, My Lord, or you might be mistaken as a partner of the Elf."
Faramir's voice lowered to a growl. "Is that a threat?"
"I'm not saying it wasn't."
In less than a second, the Steward's hand made contact with Meclan's face. The Truthsayer raised his hand to his face and wiped off the steady stream of blood trickling from his nose.
"Believe me, Meclan," he hissed, "when I do come into power, the beggar on the street will have more authority than you!" That said, Faramir swept out of the court office leaving Meclan tending his wound.