The Guilty Grace of Exquisite Sin
By IsisFireDancer
DISLAIMER: I own nothing. Would I be here if I did. I have the first three chapters of this ready. I will post them and see what happens. I may not update this for a while as I'm having a bit of a block on this one at the moment. SLASH occurs in later chapters!!! Rating may go up in the future. I own any unrecognisable people. Enjoy...
The silent moonbeams fell on the gently swaying leaves of Mirkwood. A misty silhouette came riding through the ebony, midnight air. The figure was bedecked in an Elvish cloak and rode upon a chestnut stallion. Suddenly, he halted and rapidly dismounted. He led the beast into the nearby stable and tethered it to a post. He reassured the magnificent animal in an almost silent whisper and strode out of the stable, silver light caressing his lean frame. He approached an opening in the dense row of trees, which shone in the light of the hazy orb that hung lazily in the musky air. He turned and waited for a moment, watching with great amusement as a band of riders clad in similar dress as he, slowed to a halt by the inconspicuous stable. They hurried towards him, one slightly to the fore of the others.
"What took you so long?" he asked, with veiled sarcasm. He smiled at the angered look that passed over the steward' face and turned to walk away before receiving an answer. The steward's look of anger passed and was quickly replaced by a small smile of defeat.
Together, the troop proceeded down the aisle of shimmering trees. They continued their journey quietly, contemplating the familiar (but ever beautiful and mysterious) scene of the misty forests and serene trickling of the river that ran by the path.
Finally, they arrived at a small clearing. The small party stopped, apart from their leader. He continued towards a half hidden gate, where he proceeded to knock imperiously. He stepped back as the gate was suddenly shimmering with an opalescent light. Then, a white fire seemed to seep over the exquisitely wrought gate and it seemed to dissolve, revealing a waiting elf. This elf bowed to the party and they bowed back.
"Welcome to the realms of Thranduil, King of all Mirkwood. He is expecting you. Follow me please." And with a curt nod, the Gondorian group followed the graceful being.
They were now walking through the Elven gardens and grounds of Mirkwood. Everything was bathed in a sheen of pearly dewdrops, as dawn was advancing. Many delightful aromas filled the noses of the men-wild flowers, fruit and sweet herbs. They continued through the vast maze of passages, which wound their way towards the snowy palace.
After passing through an arch of cream flowers, they finally came to the majestic court. This was the only way to actually access the palace, but it was the centre of all the main activity of everyday life and was easily accessible from everywhere else. And only now did they step through the silver gates of the palace.
Throughout their journey around the peaceful palace, the men could see no imperfection. Everything shone with the white beacon of love and care. The smooth marble stone of the floor was refreshing after the abundant shining grass and caressed the weary travellers' feet. They passed many fine tapestries and hangings as they wandered through the seemingly endless halls, all featuring memorable deeds or commemorations to the elves of Mirkwood.
They were soon faced with a silk hanging that spanned the space between the two eggshell coloured walls. This was, on closer inspection, adorned to look as if it was water and had much success in this matter. The fair elf stepped towards the flowing ripples of fabric and held it aside for the guests, bowing graciously.
"King Elessar and his party are here, your majesty," he announced with a flourish.
"Thank you Kirka."
Now, all attention was turned towards the few figures sitting at the far end of a lavishly draped table.
"Welcome, Elessar. Be seated, for I have much to tell you. But first, I am sure that you would desire to dine," said Thranduil, standing with a smile. He gestured towards the long table and plates of gold that lay, awaiting food. Kirka and several others appeared carrying platters, while the travellers prepared to seat themselves. "Please, continue. I have a small matter to attend to," their host smiled, calling Kirka over to join him.
Aragorn watched thoughtfully, as he saw the King whisper something to Kirka. He could not make out what they were saying (despite his Ranger hearing), but they both looked anxious. He could tell that they were speaking in their own language, yet hardly making a sound. Only then did he notice the empty seat near Thranduil's own empty chair. He looked around, but could not see Legolas. Where was he? This must be what was worrying the King.
ARAGORN POV
I was about to enquire about this matter, when the Prince himself burst through the doors at the far end of the fair hall. He staggered in, hunched up to one side. His usually shimmering blonde hair was limp and untidy, plastered to his head and neck, in a dirty mass. His rich tunic was ripped and stained with blood, and his whole body was wracked with effort to breathe. He looked around wildly for a moment, before falling forwards and collapsing on the marble floor. There was a stunned moment of silence, before pandemonium broke out.
"Legolas!" I cried, jumping up from the table. My outburst triggered many more of similar effect. It was a good thing that Thranduil (at least) kept his head.
"Kirka! Nanta! Take Legolas to the healers-NOW!!!" Thranduil commanded sternly, silencing all other cries. Abruptly, he and the two serving-elves rushed out of a small door in the corner that had previously seemed invisible, carrying Legolas at the same time.
I sank down into my delicate seat, still in shock. What was going on here??? Everything was wrong here. What discord had fallen on this noble court I could only guess. I wanted to see Legolas again. I pray to the Valar that he makes it. I've NEVER seen him looking so bad in all my life. How had this terrible fate befallen my companion??? It was indeed a mystery.
Whilst I sat pondering my many jumbled thoughts, I did not notice Nanta enter the room. She looked distressed, kind of strained to those who had noticed her. Finally, I acknowledged her presence as she came swiftly before me. I looked into her face for comfort and she must have sensed this, as she smiled at me shyly.
"We've made him comfortable. He's going to make a full recovery as long as he rests," she said, her smile widening slightly.
"Legolas??? Rest??? Wow!!! That's certainly going to be a task in itself!" I exclaimed, using sarcasm to mask my relief.
"I quite agree!"
"So... Are you a friend of Legolas'?" I asked, eager to find out a little more about this curious character.
"A friend??? Hmm. I don't know if you could say that! I just help make the Prince's life a little easier," she replied.
"Do you speak to one another often?" I asked, my curiosity defeating my restraint.
"Occasionally," she blushed. "A-Anyway, would you like to see him now?" she said, trying to recover from her embarrassment but failing spectacularly. Well, Legolas certainly didn't mention this! I decided to question him on the matter at a further date.
"Yes please."
"Follow me," she cried, pulling me up and out of the small door. She led me through the maze of passages swiftly.
"How do you remember the way around all of this???"
"I grew up here," she explained, stopping abruptly. "I'll just let them know that you're here."
I sat outside the carved wooden door, waiting for Nanta to return. It felt like years sitting out there, but it couldn't have been more than a few minutes. Finally, I caught a glimpse of Nanta's slight figure, followed by several other elves, including Thranduil.
"He's waiting for you."
"Thank you!" I exclaimed, rushing through the open doors. I dashed towards the simple bed in the corner, almost skidding in my haste to cross the shiny marble space.
"Legolas???" I heard the door click closed behind me, and I knew that we were alone.
"Is that you Aragorn?" His voice sounded totally feeble and meek, and he a shadow of his former self. I knelt down beside his bed, clasping the pearly skin of his fragile hand.
AN: Cliffie! REVIEW FOR.. FOR.. ME!!! Seriously, it really helps me! And, I'll give you a cake. Yes, yes, if you've read my other story you'll know that I also give out cake then, but whatever! Have fun!
By IsisFireDancer
DISLAIMER: I own nothing. Would I be here if I did. I have the first three chapters of this ready. I will post them and see what happens. I may not update this for a while as I'm having a bit of a block on this one at the moment. SLASH occurs in later chapters!!! Rating may go up in the future. I own any unrecognisable people. Enjoy...
The silent moonbeams fell on the gently swaying leaves of Mirkwood. A misty silhouette came riding through the ebony, midnight air. The figure was bedecked in an Elvish cloak and rode upon a chestnut stallion. Suddenly, he halted and rapidly dismounted. He led the beast into the nearby stable and tethered it to a post. He reassured the magnificent animal in an almost silent whisper and strode out of the stable, silver light caressing his lean frame. He approached an opening in the dense row of trees, which shone in the light of the hazy orb that hung lazily in the musky air. He turned and waited for a moment, watching with great amusement as a band of riders clad in similar dress as he, slowed to a halt by the inconspicuous stable. They hurried towards him, one slightly to the fore of the others.
"What took you so long?" he asked, with veiled sarcasm. He smiled at the angered look that passed over the steward' face and turned to walk away before receiving an answer. The steward's look of anger passed and was quickly replaced by a small smile of defeat.
Together, the troop proceeded down the aisle of shimmering trees. They continued their journey quietly, contemplating the familiar (but ever beautiful and mysterious) scene of the misty forests and serene trickling of the river that ran by the path.
Finally, they arrived at a small clearing. The small party stopped, apart from their leader. He continued towards a half hidden gate, where he proceeded to knock imperiously. He stepped back as the gate was suddenly shimmering with an opalescent light. Then, a white fire seemed to seep over the exquisitely wrought gate and it seemed to dissolve, revealing a waiting elf. This elf bowed to the party and they bowed back.
"Welcome to the realms of Thranduil, King of all Mirkwood. He is expecting you. Follow me please." And with a curt nod, the Gondorian group followed the graceful being.
They were now walking through the Elven gardens and grounds of Mirkwood. Everything was bathed in a sheen of pearly dewdrops, as dawn was advancing. Many delightful aromas filled the noses of the men-wild flowers, fruit and sweet herbs. They continued through the vast maze of passages, which wound their way towards the snowy palace.
After passing through an arch of cream flowers, they finally came to the majestic court. This was the only way to actually access the palace, but it was the centre of all the main activity of everyday life and was easily accessible from everywhere else. And only now did they step through the silver gates of the palace.
Throughout their journey around the peaceful palace, the men could see no imperfection. Everything shone with the white beacon of love and care. The smooth marble stone of the floor was refreshing after the abundant shining grass and caressed the weary travellers' feet. They passed many fine tapestries and hangings as they wandered through the seemingly endless halls, all featuring memorable deeds or commemorations to the elves of Mirkwood.
They were soon faced with a silk hanging that spanned the space between the two eggshell coloured walls. This was, on closer inspection, adorned to look as if it was water and had much success in this matter. The fair elf stepped towards the flowing ripples of fabric and held it aside for the guests, bowing graciously.
"King Elessar and his party are here, your majesty," he announced with a flourish.
"Thank you Kirka."
Now, all attention was turned towards the few figures sitting at the far end of a lavishly draped table.
"Welcome, Elessar. Be seated, for I have much to tell you. But first, I am sure that you would desire to dine," said Thranduil, standing with a smile. He gestured towards the long table and plates of gold that lay, awaiting food. Kirka and several others appeared carrying platters, while the travellers prepared to seat themselves. "Please, continue. I have a small matter to attend to," their host smiled, calling Kirka over to join him.
Aragorn watched thoughtfully, as he saw the King whisper something to Kirka. He could not make out what they were saying (despite his Ranger hearing), but they both looked anxious. He could tell that they were speaking in their own language, yet hardly making a sound. Only then did he notice the empty seat near Thranduil's own empty chair. He looked around, but could not see Legolas. Where was he? This must be what was worrying the King.
ARAGORN POV
I was about to enquire about this matter, when the Prince himself burst through the doors at the far end of the fair hall. He staggered in, hunched up to one side. His usually shimmering blonde hair was limp and untidy, plastered to his head and neck, in a dirty mass. His rich tunic was ripped and stained with blood, and his whole body was wracked with effort to breathe. He looked around wildly for a moment, before falling forwards and collapsing on the marble floor. There was a stunned moment of silence, before pandemonium broke out.
"Legolas!" I cried, jumping up from the table. My outburst triggered many more of similar effect. It was a good thing that Thranduil (at least) kept his head.
"Kirka! Nanta! Take Legolas to the healers-NOW!!!" Thranduil commanded sternly, silencing all other cries. Abruptly, he and the two serving-elves rushed out of a small door in the corner that had previously seemed invisible, carrying Legolas at the same time.
I sank down into my delicate seat, still in shock. What was going on here??? Everything was wrong here. What discord had fallen on this noble court I could only guess. I wanted to see Legolas again. I pray to the Valar that he makes it. I've NEVER seen him looking so bad in all my life. How had this terrible fate befallen my companion??? It was indeed a mystery.
Whilst I sat pondering my many jumbled thoughts, I did not notice Nanta enter the room. She looked distressed, kind of strained to those who had noticed her. Finally, I acknowledged her presence as she came swiftly before me. I looked into her face for comfort and she must have sensed this, as she smiled at me shyly.
"We've made him comfortable. He's going to make a full recovery as long as he rests," she said, her smile widening slightly.
"Legolas??? Rest??? Wow!!! That's certainly going to be a task in itself!" I exclaimed, using sarcasm to mask my relief.
"I quite agree!"
"So... Are you a friend of Legolas'?" I asked, eager to find out a little more about this curious character.
"A friend??? Hmm. I don't know if you could say that! I just help make the Prince's life a little easier," she replied.
"Do you speak to one another often?" I asked, my curiosity defeating my restraint.
"Occasionally," she blushed. "A-Anyway, would you like to see him now?" she said, trying to recover from her embarrassment but failing spectacularly. Well, Legolas certainly didn't mention this! I decided to question him on the matter at a further date.
"Yes please."
"Follow me," she cried, pulling me up and out of the small door. She led me through the maze of passages swiftly.
"How do you remember the way around all of this???"
"I grew up here," she explained, stopping abruptly. "I'll just let them know that you're here."
I sat outside the carved wooden door, waiting for Nanta to return. It felt like years sitting out there, but it couldn't have been more than a few minutes. Finally, I caught a glimpse of Nanta's slight figure, followed by several other elves, including Thranduil.
"He's waiting for you."
"Thank you!" I exclaimed, rushing through the open doors. I dashed towards the simple bed in the corner, almost skidding in my haste to cross the shiny marble space.
"Legolas???" I heard the door click closed behind me, and I knew that we were alone.
"Is that you Aragorn?" His voice sounded totally feeble and meek, and he a shadow of his former self. I knelt down beside his bed, clasping the pearly skin of his fragile hand.
AN: Cliffie! REVIEW FOR.. FOR.. ME!!! Seriously, it really helps me! And, I'll give you a cake. Yes, yes, if you've read my other story you'll know that I also give out cake then, but whatever! Have fun!