Another short post...I'm beginning to think they might all be like this.
But if I keep updating a few times a week it won't be too bad, right?
Ok I need to straighten a few things out...first off, it seems like a lot of people had comments that the language doesn't seem to fit that of Middle Earth. I agree. And it most stories I wouldn't even think about using words like 'klutz' or 'crap'...I'm hard core LOTR, I *know* they wouldn't talk like modern day teenagers. But guess what? That's what I am. =P . And I know I stated several times before that this is a mirror of a real life situation. I'm trying to balance two extremely different worlds here, a few compromises will be necessary. So just please bear with me as I continue to try and sort this out.
Another Disclaimer: Yea, I don't own Lifehouse ether. Or any of their lyrics. DUH.
Ok I need to say a HUGE thank you to everyone that reviewed. I honestly didn't really expect many people to read this.
Kayleigh-talitha: Well for your information I HAVE read the books =P. My trilogy looks rather ratty with all the abuse they've taken ;). I'll be starting 'The Similarion' soon (on my bookshelf just waiting for me), and I've been eyeing a copy of 'The Lost Tales' at Borders. I'm glad your patient...you may very well need that virtue depending on how often I can post...
Tithen Min: *pointedly ignores comment about shortness* ;) Wow...I never thought my writing was *that* good...but thanks. Hope you continue to enjoy it.
Paper Crane: Good question...in all honestly I never really thought about how old they were. Hmm...I guess Aragorn is around 25 and Legolas is probly around 2,500 or something like that. And uh.SLASH??? *is violently ill* Not a chance in heck. I hate slash with a passion. But thanks for pointing that out...*runs and adds 'no slash' to summary*
MoroTheWolfGod , Torture-the-elf (you killed Legolas! You're evil! =p), tamara , Again...BIG thank you s to all. I'm so honored that you're enjoying the story
Now I better stop yakking before this gets longer then the post... _
~*~
It wasn't long before Legolas had to go home. His only response to pleads for him to stay was a mumbled excuse about having to train a group of his father's troops.
Aragorn had watched him ride away with sadness shining in his eyes. All he wanted was to keep his friend away from the pain being home seemed to cause him. Was Lagaslan even a home to the elf? Wasn't 'home' supposed to be a place where you felt safe...where your first instinct was to run to when things went wrong?
Yet it seemed like it was the exact opposite for Legolas. He knew that it was a rare time that Legolas actually enjoyed being around his father. In fact the prince looked for any excuse he could find to spend as much time as possible *away*.
Whenever the ranger had come to Lagaslan to visit his friend, it was glaringly obvious that Legolas was tense, as if he was just waiting for something to go wrong. It wasn't uncommon for the elf and his father to have one of their 'talks'. He wondered why Legolas called it that. There was hardly ever any talking done. Just shouting that could be heard several halls away, most of it coming from Thranduil. Along with words that seemed the very antonym of Legolas. Selfish. Ungrateful. Ignorant.
At least when he was in Imladris the prince could relax. And though a shadow of hopelessness still clung to him...he could smile. He could laugh. He could live.
Aragorn just hoped it would remain a shadow. And not grow into something palpable enough to break his spirit. That had almost happened once. A long time ago.
The ranger had pulled together little bits and pieces of the past Legolas was so reluctant to talk about. Some he managed to coax from the Legolas himself, some he had garnered from a few of the elf's friends in Mirkwood, but most had come from Haldir.
Aragorn had learned that Haldir had spent the better part of a century in Mirkwood before he moved to Lorien permanently. In those years he had become a very close friend of Legolas. Even closer then the ranger was now. Haldir had told Aragorn a very disturbing tale of the woodland king.
Thranduil had a horrible temper, everyone knew that. But what most did not know..was that he had a nasty habit of taking out his anger on his son.
Blue eyes had hardened to orbs of pure ice as the elf recounted the bruises he had seen his friend try to shrug off, the tears he had cried when he could hold in his pain no longer.
Aragorn was sure this was the reason Legolas had once slit his wrists. Haldir knew of this as well and had in fact greatly helped the prince in overcoming the tendency. Even going to such lengths as sleeping outside Legolas' room to make sure he did nothing further to harm himself.
Rather then follow Legolas' request of silence about the actions of his father, Haldir had gone to Celeborn, one of the few who still held sway over Thranduil.
Together Haldir and Celeborn confronted Thranduil, and although Aragorn had never quite gotten the full details, apparently the resulting encounter had succeeded in curbing the elven king's vicious habit.
At least for a while. Haldir was no longer around to keep an eye on things. The ranger felt a deep dread at the thought that Thranduil might have rekindled the abuse. Perhaps not to the same degree as before...but even a small number of strikes could help to drive Legolas back over the edge he had struggled so long to rise above.
Aragorn had to admit he feared for his friend sometimes. Feared what might be done to him, feared what he might do to himself, feared that one day his strength would finally break under the strain it was constantly placed under.
If he had been honest with himself from the beginning instead of trying to reason away his fears as irrational, he might have admitted that there was a very real chance they were warranted. He had only the vaguest of ideas what life must be like for Legolas. Day after day...rarely an escape.
Legolas had told him on multiple occasions that sometimes the only way to stay anywhere close to sane was to lock himself in his room for hours on end. Or take long walks alone on the paths of Mirkwood, far from Lagaslan. Aragorn had expressed concern at the prince wandering alone with the many dangers of those woods, but Legolas had only shrugged as if it didn't matter.
Maybe he though that *he* didn't matter. That no one cared if he lived or died. That he was utterly useless and would amount to nothing. How many lies, fed to him over and over throughout his long life, had Legolas come to falsely believe were true?
Worse yet...did he believe he was alone?
~ Can't be weak Can't stand still Watch your back Cause no one will
Don't believe these lies that they told to you Not one word is true You're alright..you're alright...you're alright... ~
~Lifehouse~
TBC...
Ok I need to straighten a few things out...first off, it seems like a lot of people had comments that the language doesn't seem to fit that of Middle Earth. I agree. And it most stories I wouldn't even think about using words like 'klutz' or 'crap'...I'm hard core LOTR, I *know* they wouldn't talk like modern day teenagers. But guess what? That's what I am. =P . And I know I stated several times before that this is a mirror of a real life situation. I'm trying to balance two extremely different worlds here, a few compromises will be necessary. So just please bear with me as I continue to try and sort this out.
Another Disclaimer: Yea, I don't own Lifehouse ether. Or any of their lyrics. DUH.
Ok I need to say a HUGE thank you to everyone that reviewed. I honestly didn't really expect many people to read this.
Kayleigh-talitha: Well for your information I HAVE read the books =P. My trilogy looks rather ratty with all the abuse they've taken ;). I'll be starting 'The Similarion' soon (on my bookshelf just waiting for me), and I've been eyeing a copy of 'The Lost Tales' at Borders. I'm glad your patient...you may very well need that virtue depending on how often I can post...
Tithen Min: *pointedly ignores comment about shortness* ;) Wow...I never thought my writing was *that* good...but thanks. Hope you continue to enjoy it.
Paper Crane: Good question...in all honestly I never really thought about how old they were. Hmm...I guess Aragorn is around 25 and Legolas is probly around 2,500 or something like that. And uh.SLASH??? *is violently ill* Not a chance in heck. I hate slash with a passion. But thanks for pointing that out...*runs and adds 'no slash' to summary*
MoroTheWolfGod , Torture-the-elf (you killed Legolas! You're evil! =p), tamara , Again...BIG thank you s to all. I'm so honored that you're enjoying the story
Now I better stop yakking before this gets longer then the post... _
~*~
It wasn't long before Legolas had to go home. His only response to pleads for him to stay was a mumbled excuse about having to train a group of his father's troops.
Aragorn had watched him ride away with sadness shining in his eyes. All he wanted was to keep his friend away from the pain being home seemed to cause him. Was Lagaslan even a home to the elf? Wasn't 'home' supposed to be a place where you felt safe...where your first instinct was to run to when things went wrong?
Yet it seemed like it was the exact opposite for Legolas. He knew that it was a rare time that Legolas actually enjoyed being around his father. In fact the prince looked for any excuse he could find to spend as much time as possible *away*.
Whenever the ranger had come to Lagaslan to visit his friend, it was glaringly obvious that Legolas was tense, as if he was just waiting for something to go wrong. It wasn't uncommon for the elf and his father to have one of their 'talks'. He wondered why Legolas called it that. There was hardly ever any talking done. Just shouting that could be heard several halls away, most of it coming from Thranduil. Along with words that seemed the very antonym of Legolas. Selfish. Ungrateful. Ignorant.
At least when he was in Imladris the prince could relax. And though a shadow of hopelessness still clung to him...he could smile. He could laugh. He could live.
Aragorn just hoped it would remain a shadow. And not grow into something palpable enough to break his spirit. That had almost happened once. A long time ago.
The ranger had pulled together little bits and pieces of the past Legolas was so reluctant to talk about. Some he managed to coax from the Legolas himself, some he had garnered from a few of the elf's friends in Mirkwood, but most had come from Haldir.
Aragorn had learned that Haldir had spent the better part of a century in Mirkwood before he moved to Lorien permanently. In those years he had become a very close friend of Legolas. Even closer then the ranger was now. Haldir had told Aragorn a very disturbing tale of the woodland king.
Thranduil had a horrible temper, everyone knew that. But what most did not know..was that he had a nasty habit of taking out his anger on his son.
Blue eyes had hardened to orbs of pure ice as the elf recounted the bruises he had seen his friend try to shrug off, the tears he had cried when he could hold in his pain no longer.
Aragorn was sure this was the reason Legolas had once slit his wrists. Haldir knew of this as well and had in fact greatly helped the prince in overcoming the tendency. Even going to such lengths as sleeping outside Legolas' room to make sure he did nothing further to harm himself.
Rather then follow Legolas' request of silence about the actions of his father, Haldir had gone to Celeborn, one of the few who still held sway over Thranduil.
Together Haldir and Celeborn confronted Thranduil, and although Aragorn had never quite gotten the full details, apparently the resulting encounter had succeeded in curbing the elven king's vicious habit.
At least for a while. Haldir was no longer around to keep an eye on things. The ranger felt a deep dread at the thought that Thranduil might have rekindled the abuse. Perhaps not to the same degree as before...but even a small number of strikes could help to drive Legolas back over the edge he had struggled so long to rise above.
Aragorn had to admit he feared for his friend sometimes. Feared what might be done to him, feared what he might do to himself, feared that one day his strength would finally break under the strain it was constantly placed under.
If he had been honest with himself from the beginning instead of trying to reason away his fears as irrational, he might have admitted that there was a very real chance they were warranted. He had only the vaguest of ideas what life must be like for Legolas. Day after day...rarely an escape.
Legolas had told him on multiple occasions that sometimes the only way to stay anywhere close to sane was to lock himself in his room for hours on end. Or take long walks alone on the paths of Mirkwood, far from Lagaslan. Aragorn had expressed concern at the prince wandering alone with the many dangers of those woods, but Legolas had only shrugged as if it didn't matter.
Maybe he though that *he* didn't matter. That no one cared if he lived or died. That he was utterly useless and would amount to nothing. How many lies, fed to him over and over throughout his long life, had Legolas come to falsely believe were true?
Worse yet...did he believe he was alone?
~ Can't be weak Can't stand still Watch your back Cause no one will
Don't believe these lies that they told to you Not one word is true You're alright..you're alright...you're alright... ~
~Lifehouse~
TBC...