"Elrohir? Are you in there?" Haldir called to the other side of the closed door. The door opened and Elrohir stood there. A smirk played mischievously on his face. He held a large candle stick that supported three candles burning brightly.
"I'm here, Haldir," Elrohir fully smiled. His hair was unbraided and curling its way into messy tendrils of dark silk. His skin was unusually pale, even for him, and dark purple tones circled his eyes. His chest was revealed: his shoulders were not broad but neither were they weak, his form was muscular. He only wore a pair of pants ripped at the knees and stained with an orangey-brown substance. He wasn't wearing any shoes and his feet were filthy. His hands and lower arms were spotted with small straight red cuts that occasionally dripped blood.
"By Valar, what is wrong with you?" Haldir reached out to touch one of the tendrils but felt his arm burn. He hissed in pain and quickly withdrew his hand.
Elrohir laughed, he had moved the candlestick in front of him, "Oh, no! I hope you are not burnt!"
Haldir offered him a look to kill and shoved the candlestick out of his hand. It crashed to the floor and wax splattered on to his clothes, Elrohir's clothes as well. He gripped the twin's shoulders and pushed him into the room.
"I see you've already relieved yourself of much of your clothing? A fine choice," as the blond leant to kiss the dark elf, he tripped over something. He cursed as he fell on the floor. The spines and hard-covers of books were strewn indiscriminately; countless pages also littered the floor. The marchwarden slowly sat up observing the scene around him in confusion. To be honest, he was scared. On the large bed lie hundreds of books, some old, but most looked relatively new or even mint: not a page was misplaced from them unlike the trash he sat on. "May I beg you what is going on here?"
Elrohir slowly backed away until he leant on the wall. His back arched seductively and he traced his abdominal muscles with his fingertips. His face was like a child's: innocent but tempted by the allure of mischief but also scared of its repremandible consequences.
"Oh, Haldir, I am guessing that you have come here for something to do with- what's it called? Oh yes, lust," he hissed. "That is what I have been reduced to."
"Elrohir, you mean more to me than that!" he protested.
"I do? Like what? What do I mean? Didn't you ever step back and see that I have turned absolutely mad?" Haldir opened his mouth to protest again but was interrupted: "But at least I'm sexy. Don't you agree, Haldir?"
Haldir slowly rose to his feet, finally regaining his courage. With much caution, he walked to the door. Elrohir's eyes followed his every move.
Just as he was to open the door, "Goodbye, Elladan."
Elrohir laughed, "Excuse me?"
Haldir realized his mistake immediately and looked at the twin again, "I apologize, Elladan!" He covered his mouth in shock. "Elrohir, Elrohir!"
"Get out of here," Haldir didn't need to be told twice and left the room in a hurry. He slammed the door behind him and exhaled in relief.
"Keep away! Do you hear me?" the dark elf wielded a sword and smashed it against his hip, sending Haldir to the floor.
The marchwarden looked up at his assailant, gripping his side in pain. The dark elf stood proudly above him and wore a stern countenance. He was dressed in a robe of highest honors reserved for the rulers of Imaldris. Only three existed and only three elves owned them: deep blue velvet with ribbing comprised of the finest golden thread and draped numerous times over the shoulders. The gold emitted an amber aura around the wearer, something that could be noticed to be revered.
"Know your place, marchwarden," the ethereal elf resounded, his voice warm but harsh in its intentions.
"Dreadfully sorry, Master Elrohir," Haldir again covered his mouth as if the words could be retrieved.
"Know your vocabulary as well," he sheathed his sword and left.
()()()()
Dinner was served. Elrohir was absent. Elladan was also absent. No one asked any questions; therefore, no one told any lies.
()()()()
Legolas stood at his private balcony with bow in hand. His fingers gently grazed over the fine engravings repeatedly. New thoughts ran through his mind. I am certain Elrohir has done something horrendous to Elladan to bring him to his wit's end like that. That elf has devious intentions: I would assume a black heart if he wasn't able to love his brother so. But even now I have my questions as to his actual dedications to him because I am certain they do not exceed mine.
Elrohir is not only a threat to my dearest Elladan but also to Mirkwood. Certainly, I suspect he has become aware of my supposed "affections" for Haldir. There must be a greater connection between the two. Surely, the bastard will try to convince Haldir that I am using him. But then again, in reality, Haldir is using me. He's using me for his own pleasures and desires as I lay a defenseless and subservient pawn in his simple little games of lust.
The clock on the wall neared closer to 3AM, it was time to get ready. Legolas knew he would have to further his efforts and wear something to race the mind even before the body. He chose an almost golden sheer pair of leggings that fit snugly around all the right parts. He pushed aside all the tunics and pulled out a white shirt that was sleeveless with high collars. Most elves and other people of Middle Earth would have thought him naked for wearing such bold attire. It mattered not to him. The only thought in his mind was that of Haldir's pleasure. He happily imagined when Haldir would agree to return to Mirkwood with his guard. The happy countenances of his fellow elves greeted him happily and their voices sang his praises, not his insults.
He took out his braids with much care and proceeded to brush his golden locks. The strands shined in the candle light, the glimmer reminded him of his childhood…
"The most beautiful son, the most beautiful elf, the most beautiful being on all of Arda," his mother sang playfully as she ran her fingers through her son's messy hair. Once again, the tangled mess was full of strange objects like leaves, twigs, and the odd bug.
"Nana? Am I really the most beautiful bean on all of Arta?" the small elf asked, merely a tot.
"I believe so, Legolas. I am very old and have seen many a people cross this land. They hardly compare!" she laughed as she flicked a cricket away from his ear.
"But, Nana, you are the most beautiful bean I have ever seen!" his naive protests were received with a gracious and adoring smile.
"Ok, fine. I'm compromise. The second most beautiful being on Arda, if that makes you happy!" she finally removed the last bit of leaf and swished his long blond hair around with the back of her slender hand. The strands glistened in the sunlight so much that little Legolas squinted from the reflected light. She smiled and began to braid it with much care.
"I love you, Nana," his little voice was confident in its statement.
"I love you too, Legolas. I love you more than anything in this land. Remember that…" she heard her husband barking out orders to the guard. She overheard something about the palace being infiltrated. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Thranduil slap the head marchwarden of Mirkwood and scold him. He was quickly dismissed and Thranduil approached his family. His wife picked up Legolas and held him close.
"Take Legolas to the safe house. Then come back to me, I don't want you out of my sight after that," Thranduil spoke quickly, sternly, but more nervously than anything else.
She nodded with uncertainty, "Will anyone accompany me? What if we are attacked?"
Thranduil's eyes flared, "This is not the time to question me! I can assure you, you will be fine. The dark forces are still in the lower levels. Be quick!"
She nodded and took Legolas tighter into her embrace and ran with him to the safe house. With much luck, she was able to secure him there. She was a brilliant elf, she knew she would not be able to make it back and she was right after all.
"Enough of that!" he shook his head, immediately clearing his mind of the memory. He finished brushing out his hair and admired its sheen, Perfect, Haldir will love it. The clock read 2:45AM; he picked up his quiver and twin knives as if he was actually going to use them. A sigh passed his lips and just about when he reached for the door knob, a knock. He recognized it as Elladan's and grew nervous, What will he say when he sees me with all this weaponry? With haste, he locked it all in chest. As he shut it, he saw his bare arms and quickly grabbed a long over robe as well. The familiar knock came again, "Who is it?" A question he didn't need to ask, he began to open the door and just as the door was opened only a few inches, the reply came:
"Elrohir."
()()()()
Dun dun dun!!! Cliffhanger! Sorry, but I had too. It has been a week since I last updated and I feel horrible so I'm offering you this! The next chapter will probably be the longest and most crucial. So it may be a few days before it comes up. I've been so excited about getting to finally write it!!! Yay!!!
But anyway, please be a dear and offer a review? Please? I love you!