Disclaimer: Don't own it, so don't sue…I've no money anyway!! (Anyana, Guillian and Irinwë are mine though!)
Well, here's the second chapter! Hope you enjoy!
Chapter 2
The rise of the new sun found Legolas at the archery ranges. He had neglected to practice his skills recently, but sought to remedy the situation that very day.
However, what one seeks is not always found, and try as he may, he could not get a single one of his arrows to hit the centre of the target. In his growing frustration at his current lapse in skill, his aim suffered even more, missing the target completely.
Upon seeing this, he sighed heavily and threw his bow down to the ground.
He wondered, as he sat cross-legged on the springy grass of the range, if the Lady Galadriel had been of sound mind when she gave him the bow of the Galadhrim, for he was sure that he did not deserve to wield such a mighty weapon.
A voice coming from not more than five metres away brought him from his moment of self-depreciation.
"My Lord, are you well?" Guillian, one of his Father's best archers, asked him.
"Forgive me, Lord Guillian, I was lost in my thoughts and did not hear you approach. I fare well enough, thank you. I trust that this day finds you well, also?" He said, trying to keep his tone as carefree as he could.
"Aye, My Lord, it does. I was just coming to practice before the rushes." He said with a smile, knowing that a group of twenty or so Elflings under the charge of Salberon would fill the range in only a couple of short hours. Legolas smiled back. "Perhaps you would care to join me?" Guillian asked him, his face betraying none of the worry he felt for seeing his former, and best, student turn down his offer, all the while looking like a trapped animal trying to find any way to escape.
Legolas hoped that none of the anxiety he felt inside showed on his face. Usually he would jump at the chance to best his former tutor, but now, after the disaster of his solitary practice…Guillian would know without a doubt that something troubled him. And after talking it through with Anyana, Legolas did not feel up to discussing it again.
"I thank you kindly for your offer, Lord Guillian, but I am afraid that I shall have to decline. I have some matters that need to be taken care of. Another time, perhaps?" Legolas said as he rose, as calmly as he could, retrieving his bow from the ground.
"Of course, My Lord. I know how busy your father keeps you these days, and I would not like to find myself out of favour with him. Send him my regards, won't you?" Guillian replied, seemingly oblivious to his former student's deception.
"I will indeed. If you'll excuse me?" He replied, bowing in farewell and respect.
Guillian returned this with a nod of his head, bidding him a good day.
Legolas left the Archery ranges as fast as he could without drawing attention to himself. He was fairly surprised that Guillian had bought his excuse; everyone in the palace knew how much influence he had over his father. If Legolas had requested time off, even for something as trivial as an Archery competition, Thranduil would have readily agreed. That, and everyone knew of his love for the bow and arrow.
None the less, Legolas knew that the Master Archer would not question him, for he held too much respect for the Royal family to ask for clarification where none was readily given.
As he made his way from the range, he turned left and took the path that would lead him to his private garden. He often found peace here, as this was where he had spent a lot of time as an Elfling with his Naneth (Mother) before she had sailed into the West to Valinor.
Finding his favourite spot underneath a Beech tree that had seen more years than he himself even dreamed to, he leant against its trunk, closing his eyes as he rested his head back against the tree.
"Oh, Naneth, I wish you were here now. I really need someone who can help me to understand how I feel." He sighed gently as he allowed the rays of Anor warm his face. The last thing he remembered was the sound of rustling leaves against the gentle, warm breeze as he drifted into the realm of Elven sleep.
Guillian was still to be found on the Archery range, practising alone. He could feel the gentle wind, its warmth lingering on his skin and the way it made wisps of his long, golden hair fly around his head as he loosed the arrows from his bow.
It was a familiar comfort to him, knowing that though some things changed, that many things would remain, and not even Sauron himself could stop the way he felt when the kiss of a summer's breeze caressed his skin.
And yet, his mind was troubled. He had sensed from his earlier conversation with Legolas that he was not at ease with himself. And then when he had requested him to join in one of their frequent competitions, Legolas had declined, with the excuse that he had things to attend.
Never before, in over the two thousand years since meeting the Prince, had he known him to turn down a challenge, especially if it involved beating his former teacher. Legolas loved to prove that he had surpassed his tutor's skills, and never missed an opportunity to boast about it. And so, today's scenario confused him no end.
Oh, well, he thought to himself, it's probably nothing to worry about.
But still, his thoughts would not be quieted. I suppose I could keep and eye on him though, just to be sure.
Yes, that would be the best course of action. And if his troubles were not alleviated he could always speak to Thranduil about it. He was always willing to listen where his only son was concerned.
He resumed his practice, contented by the course of his actions regarding the Prince, and by the thwacking sound his weapon made when an arrow was released from it.
Anor was at its zenith when Legolas awoke. Blinking to clear his eyes, he stood from his position of resting against the large old Oak tree he had loved as long as he could remember.
What he did remember, though, were the times he and his friends had played in this garden, running in circles around the old Oak, trying to catch each other. As they had gotten older, they used to climb up onto its sturdy branches, hidden from the world below.
He smiled at the memories. It had been a long time since he had done that…
Grinning like the Elfling in his memories, he began to climb the tree. As he ascended, he listened to the sounds around him; the birds chirruping, leaves rustling with the gentle breeze. As he reached his favourite branch, approximately a third of the height of the Oak, he closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, inhaling the scents of the forest.
Legolas felt his heart lighten for the first time in many weeks. He realized that he had been so busy trying to keep his thoughts off of his friends in different countries, that he had been neglecting his other friends in the forests and gardens in his own.
Clearing his mind as best he could, he began to look around him. He saw the elves walking below him, and he heard now the thwack of arrows as they were released by Salberon's students, and then the thud as they hit their target.
Perhaps life was not so bad after all…
A/N: So, what do you think? Thanks to those who reviewed! Please remember, if you read, review. We live off feedback!
Gozilla and Stephanie6: Glad you liked it! It may be a bit slow to start with, but I can assure you, it does get better!
Elfique: Thanks loads! I wasn't sure about the Elvish myself, but thought I'd give it a go. Found a good Sindarin phrasebook online…hopefully I will be able to put a whole conversation in a later chapter. Not sure yet!
