A/n: New Chappie!!! But it's a short one... ^^.
Disclaimer: I no own Lord of the Rings.
Chapter Two: Dancing Queen
The dance hall smelled overpoweringly of burnt honey and incense, which seemed to make the dancers all the more enthusiastic but made a certain Princess Legala feel sick.
//I hate balls. I never make any new friends, all the girls are my 'bestest pals' already. And the only men that ever approach me...//
A large hunk of muscle moved in his direction, wearing a long ivory robe. Legala smiled icily up at him. "Thank you, but I am not in the mood to dance with anyone right now," the Princess said smoothly. The muscle looked disappointed, and lumbered away,
//... are HIS type. Really. You'd think there would be more variety to them, wouldn't you? I'd like to carry out an intelligent and meaningful conversation with someone other than my brother, for a change. Speaking of Romul... isn't he supposed to be arriving right about now?//
There was a clamor of trumpets blaring, and then a herald quickly announced that "Romul, High Prince and Captain of the Guard, has returned!"
The Princess leaned back on her throne, trying to envision the hall without the crowd. It wasn't too difficult, because the hall had fallen silent. She stood up, and her brother chose that moment to bound down the hall, up the steps of the dais, and envelop her in a bear hug.
"Legala! I'm so glad to be home again. I missed you! What have you gotten up to lately, mischievous one?"
Legala smiled wearily as the noise in the hall escalated to its usual volume once more. "Not much of anything, I'm afraid. Come walk with me for a moment in the gardens, where it is less noisy and I will be able to hear your tales better." Romul smiled sweetly at her, giving her a lopsided grin.
"Of course, my fair one. You're the only maiden to hold my heart!"
Legala tittered. "Oh, do let's be serious, Romul. I'm nowhere near as attractive as the women you've probably managed to ensnare on your travels."
The two walked out onto the balcony, under the light of the moon and stars.
Romul's pointed ears sliced through his windswept blonde hair, which played about his shoulders in the slight breeze. "Ah, yes, well, none of them could ever compare!" After a moment's pause, he cheekily added: "Except for the girl in that inn we stopped by. She was much more understanding and had such open arms..."
Legala choked with laughter. "I am not quite sure that you ought to be discussing such things with me, brother dear! What would adar say?"
"Oh, whatever do you mean?" Romul said innocently. "No one found our activities disturbing except for the people next door!"
The Princess collapsed on a stone bench, giggling harder than ever. After a few moments, she sighed and stopped, looking up at the stars. They were all out tonight, and it was indeed a lovely night. There wasn't a cloud in the sky, and the moon was full. She rested an alabaster chin on her palm as she stared upwards.
Romul smiled at his sister. She was always daydreaming, sometimes even in the middle of talking. He sat down next to her, tapping her gently on the shoulder. Legala blinked, and then smiled sweetly at him.
"Sorry. You were saying?"
Romul sighed. "Do you ever pay attention?"
Legala pretended to consider it for a moment. "No," she said at last, gifting him with another smile. "No, I don't believe I ever do."
Romul smiled back. "Well, what were you thinking about?"
Legala turned her head back to the stars. "I don't know. Wings, I suppose. I wish I could fly away from here, fly away and never come back..." Her voice had gone low and melancholy. Romul shifted uneasily in his seat.
"Legala, are you happy here?" he tried finally, when she showed no sign of motion. She turned her head, and Romul could see that her eyes were shining. Tears?
"I'm all right, Romul. But so are all pampered girls in the palace. I spend the day bored, doing nothing but embroidery and talking to friends. I am fed, watered, and fawned over by other women and men, even servants. They say I am beautiful, very beautiful.
"But all caged birds are beautiful. However, beautiful birds would be much prettier in the forest where they can breathe, don't you think so?" Legala's voice grew abstract. Her eyes were vacant, looking somewhere other that the world around her.
"I just want to fly. But they keep following me and chasing me and watching me, and they don't even know me..."
"Legala, I don't think I'll ever understand you," Romul sighed gustily, stretching out his legs. "But I do understand most of what you said. You're bored. You want out. You want to be somewhere with someone you can talk to who doesn't rave about how lovely you look. Fine. We can go riding tomorrow. Picnic, if you like. Just the two of us, I promise." He looked over at Legala.
She smiled. "Thank you, Romul. You listen. I would like that very much. I suppose adar will have our heads for avoiding protocol, though. We had best get back, before someone decides they need the royal offspring!" She drifted back into the ballroom, eyes holding a dreamy expression. Romul was right behind her, but even he was separated by the courtiers jostling and pushing, the servants rushing, and the odd noble seeking either of them out.
Legala kept one eye on her brother as she drifted around, well aware that she was being followed. //He's so strong. When he took my arm, he had to concentrate on not hurting me.// She sighed. //I'm so delicate and airy-fairy. I even prefer males. No wonder adar picked me to be the 'girl'.//
A waltz began to play, and a dignitary materialized in front of her, asking her if she would like to dance. Legala smiled cooly. "No, thank you," she said calmly. "I believe I shall be retiring to my rooms for the night, sir."
She wafted away to the staircase, aware of the multiple sets of eyes on her back. She paused. //If I leave the party now, someone will insist they accompany me. But if I stay, I get accosted by a huge number of people. Yet again, someone walking me to bed would be a much more intimate gesture than a mere dance. Oh, what to do, what to do?//
Fortunately, Romul showed up before any would-be suitors began to jostle. He grinned at her. "Well? Going to bed already?"
Legala nodded, and in a low voice, said, "It isn't so much the dancing, but the men who attempt to seize my attention. It gets rather tiresome, you know." Romul laughed aloud.
"Come on then, sleepyhead, I'll walk you to your room!" In the same low voice, he continued, "They were waiting behind that potted plant and at the end of the banister. If you know who they were, tell me and I'll wring their scrawny necks for you."
Legala sighed. "You're so violent, brother."
"And you're a pansy."
The two continued their quiet banter all the way up the stairs and to Legala's door. Giving a short bow, Romul walked away with a small, whispered goodnight.
The door opened soundlessly, and shut behind Legala with a click. She scowled. //I hate these ceremonies. Everyone is so rude.//
She sat at the mirror and began to take her hair out of its buns. Outside the window, a moth flew by.
//Of all the arrogance! Those stupid men aren't the sort that I'd prefer at all. Well, at least I think they aren't... I've never really had a crush on anyone. I don't really know if I'd ever like a girl.//
Hair dealt with, Legala began the task of removing her makeup. When she had finished, she looked into the mirror once more.
Legolas stared back. He sighed and looked down. //Dresses. I have grown to detest them.//
Now that the face powder was off, his skin could breathe again. He quickly took off the dress, and put on a nightgown. No one was allowed to help him dress, not even members of the family. No one could know the secret.
Legolas got into bed, grateful that a servant had put a bedpan into warm the sheets. He hoped, desperately, that he was not the only one who knew that secret anymore. He hoped that his father remembered.
All he really wanted was for someone he could be himself around. Not the Princess Legala, just- Legolas.
The elf that wasn't supposed to exist.
*****tbc*****
A/N: Lol, you'll notice that they don't refer to their father as ada. They call him adar. "Father" not "Daddy". Hmmm! Wonder what that means, eh?
Review Please!
Disclaimer: I no own Lord of the Rings.
Chapter Two: Dancing Queen
The dance hall smelled overpoweringly of burnt honey and incense, which seemed to make the dancers all the more enthusiastic but made a certain Princess Legala feel sick.
//I hate balls. I never make any new friends, all the girls are my 'bestest pals' already. And the only men that ever approach me...//
A large hunk of muscle moved in his direction, wearing a long ivory robe. Legala smiled icily up at him. "Thank you, but I am not in the mood to dance with anyone right now," the Princess said smoothly. The muscle looked disappointed, and lumbered away,
//... are HIS type. Really. You'd think there would be more variety to them, wouldn't you? I'd like to carry out an intelligent and meaningful conversation with someone other than my brother, for a change. Speaking of Romul... isn't he supposed to be arriving right about now?//
There was a clamor of trumpets blaring, and then a herald quickly announced that "Romul, High Prince and Captain of the Guard, has returned!"
The Princess leaned back on her throne, trying to envision the hall without the crowd. It wasn't too difficult, because the hall had fallen silent. She stood up, and her brother chose that moment to bound down the hall, up the steps of the dais, and envelop her in a bear hug.
"Legala! I'm so glad to be home again. I missed you! What have you gotten up to lately, mischievous one?"
Legala smiled wearily as the noise in the hall escalated to its usual volume once more. "Not much of anything, I'm afraid. Come walk with me for a moment in the gardens, where it is less noisy and I will be able to hear your tales better." Romul smiled sweetly at her, giving her a lopsided grin.
"Of course, my fair one. You're the only maiden to hold my heart!"
Legala tittered. "Oh, do let's be serious, Romul. I'm nowhere near as attractive as the women you've probably managed to ensnare on your travels."
The two walked out onto the balcony, under the light of the moon and stars.
Romul's pointed ears sliced through his windswept blonde hair, which played about his shoulders in the slight breeze. "Ah, yes, well, none of them could ever compare!" After a moment's pause, he cheekily added: "Except for the girl in that inn we stopped by. She was much more understanding and had such open arms..."
Legala choked with laughter. "I am not quite sure that you ought to be discussing such things with me, brother dear! What would adar say?"
"Oh, whatever do you mean?" Romul said innocently. "No one found our activities disturbing except for the people next door!"
The Princess collapsed on a stone bench, giggling harder than ever. After a few moments, she sighed and stopped, looking up at the stars. They were all out tonight, and it was indeed a lovely night. There wasn't a cloud in the sky, and the moon was full. She rested an alabaster chin on her palm as she stared upwards.
Romul smiled at his sister. She was always daydreaming, sometimes even in the middle of talking. He sat down next to her, tapping her gently on the shoulder. Legala blinked, and then smiled sweetly at him.
"Sorry. You were saying?"
Romul sighed. "Do you ever pay attention?"
Legala pretended to consider it for a moment. "No," she said at last, gifting him with another smile. "No, I don't believe I ever do."
Romul smiled back. "Well, what were you thinking about?"
Legala turned her head back to the stars. "I don't know. Wings, I suppose. I wish I could fly away from here, fly away and never come back..." Her voice had gone low and melancholy. Romul shifted uneasily in his seat.
"Legala, are you happy here?" he tried finally, when she showed no sign of motion. She turned her head, and Romul could see that her eyes were shining. Tears?
"I'm all right, Romul. But so are all pampered girls in the palace. I spend the day bored, doing nothing but embroidery and talking to friends. I am fed, watered, and fawned over by other women and men, even servants. They say I am beautiful, very beautiful.
"But all caged birds are beautiful. However, beautiful birds would be much prettier in the forest where they can breathe, don't you think so?" Legala's voice grew abstract. Her eyes were vacant, looking somewhere other that the world around her.
"I just want to fly. But they keep following me and chasing me and watching me, and they don't even know me..."
"Legala, I don't think I'll ever understand you," Romul sighed gustily, stretching out his legs. "But I do understand most of what you said. You're bored. You want out. You want to be somewhere with someone you can talk to who doesn't rave about how lovely you look. Fine. We can go riding tomorrow. Picnic, if you like. Just the two of us, I promise." He looked over at Legala.
She smiled. "Thank you, Romul. You listen. I would like that very much. I suppose adar will have our heads for avoiding protocol, though. We had best get back, before someone decides they need the royal offspring!" She drifted back into the ballroom, eyes holding a dreamy expression. Romul was right behind her, but even he was separated by the courtiers jostling and pushing, the servants rushing, and the odd noble seeking either of them out.
Legala kept one eye on her brother as she drifted around, well aware that she was being followed. //He's so strong. When he took my arm, he had to concentrate on not hurting me.// She sighed. //I'm so delicate and airy-fairy. I even prefer males. No wonder adar picked me to be the 'girl'.//
A waltz began to play, and a dignitary materialized in front of her, asking her if she would like to dance. Legala smiled cooly. "No, thank you," she said calmly. "I believe I shall be retiring to my rooms for the night, sir."
She wafted away to the staircase, aware of the multiple sets of eyes on her back. She paused. //If I leave the party now, someone will insist they accompany me. But if I stay, I get accosted by a huge number of people. Yet again, someone walking me to bed would be a much more intimate gesture than a mere dance. Oh, what to do, what to do?//
Fortunately, Romul showed up before any would-be suitors began to jostle. He grinned at her. "Well? Going to bed already?"
Legala nodded, and in a low voice, said, "It isn't so much the dancing, but the men who attempt to seize my attention. It gets rather tiresome, you know." Romul laughed aloud.
"Come on then, sleepyhead, I'll walk you to your room!" In the same low voice, he continued, "They were waiting behind that potted plant and at the end of the banister. If you know who they were, tell me and I'll wring their scrawny necks for you."
Legala sighed. "You're so violent, brother."
"And you're a pansy."
The two continued their quiet banter all the way up the stairs and to Legala's door. Giving a short bow, Romul walked away with a small, whispered goodnight.
The door opened soundlessly, and shut behind Legala with a click. She scowled. //I hate these ceremonies. Everyone is so rude.//
She sat at the mirror and began to take her hair out of its buns. Outside the window, a moth flew by.
//Of all the arrogance! Those stupid men aren't the sort that I'd prefer at all. Well, at least I think they aren't... I've never really had a crush on anyone. I don't really know if I'd ever like a girl.//
Hair dealt with, Legala began the task of removing her makeup. When she had finished, she looked into the mirror once more.
Legolas stared back. He sighed and looked down. //Dresses. I have grown to detest them.//
Now that the face powder was off, his skin could breathe again. He quickly took off the dress, and put on a nightgown. No one was allowed to help him dress, not even members of the family. No one could know the secret.
Legolas got into bed, grateful that a servant had put a bedpan into warm the sheets. He hoped, desperately, that he was not the only one who knew that secret anymore. He hoped that his father remembered.
All he really wanted was for someone he could be himself around. Not the Princess Legala, just- Legolas.
The elf that wasn't supposed to exist.
*****tbc*****
A/N: Lol, you'll notice that they don't refer to their father as ada. They call him adar. "Father" not "Daddy". Hmmm! Wonder what that means, eh?
Review Please!