Hello, and welcome to my new story, Runaways! Please don't ask me where this idea came from; it was just like all my others. It came out of absolutely nowhere!
Wow, I've been on ff.net for almost a whole year now! 26th July is my anniversary, and it just happens to be a Monday! So I MIGHT put up more than 1 chapter on my stories. We'll see…
And I have to say…I am quite proud of MOST of my stories. The first few were a bit…hmm, well…
I showed you the beginning of this chapter last week, and here is the entire thing in full. I have put the replies to reviews on the last chapter of Farewells May Not Be Forever on here. Hope you enjoy it, and I look forward to your responses.
Lainfaer.
MusicDreamer – Yup, long happy life. I look forward to reviews from you on other stories. Please do so; they will be very much appreciated. Thanks for reviewing.
Mayrana – Yeh, Leggy for a week. But the week's over, so I want him back now! We all read too much ff! So you think the 'girl falls into ME' will be ok? I think I should send a few of you previews, just to see what you think. Good idea?
Oh, and Thranduil said I could marry Leggy, so you can be bridesmaid and have Haldir! Happy?
Thanks for reviewing.
Snowelf12 - Yes, you used great a lot! Sad, but appropriate. I like that! I inspired you? Wow. Thanks for reviewing.
In The Depp End – Shirt on? Did you mean shirt off? I bet he looks scrummy! Thanks for reviewing.
Zammy – Glad you liked it. Thanks for reviewing.
Rayame325 – Yes, please read the new one. I think you'll like it. Thanks for reviewing.
Elerrina – Here you go, tissues. Just in case you cry! No, I'm not going to write a sequel. I'm working on llloooaaddsss of stories at the mo, so I could chuck you in somewhere, I'm sure! Thanks for reviewing.
Runaways.
Chapter 1: Why me?
I hate my life.
It's quite simple.
Why can't anyone understand that?
For 160 years, I've had to live this life.
The life I hate.
I'm still treated like a seven-year old.
Why me?
Why did I have to be born into this family?
Why can't I just be a normal boy living with a normal family?
What have I ever done to deserve this?
I don't feel right here.
I feel like an intruder in the 'perfect' family.
Perhaps I am.
I know I'm not meant to be here…
…but no one else seems to.
People just laugh when I tell them.
They don't believe me.
It isn't fair.
I hate my life.
"Legolas, its time for dinner."
"I'm not hungry."
"Come on. Look, you're not even changed!" Brilmír walked into her sons' room, shutting the door behind her. "Let's find you something decent to wear." She started rummaging through his wardrobe.
"Naneth please, I am not hungry."
"Legolas, you are coming down to dinner whether you like it or not. We have important guests."
"We always have important guests!"
Brilmír sighed and looked at the Prince with exasperation. "Please? Your father will not be pleased if we are both late. Here, wear this." She threw him a dark green tunic with silver edging. "And here are some leggings to go with it."
Silver, surprise, surprise...
"Legolas don't be cheeky!"
He sighed. Why did he have to have a mother who could pick up echoes of his thoughts?
"Get changed, and I expect to see you down in the hall in ten minutes!" She walked out of the room without looking back.
Legolas slid down off the end of his bed where he had been perched, and looked at the outfit she had chosen for him. He pulled a face at it, but changed anyway. He also had to wear his silver circlet.
Great…
Ten minutes later, as requested, he was sat next to his mother at the table. His tunic was stiff from where it had been washed recently, and he kept pulling the neck out a bit to loosen it. Brilmír cast her son a sharp glance, and he immediately stopped fidgeting.
"Of course, our alliance would be immensely useful," one man was saying to his father. Legolas looked at him. He was a respectable-looking man, quite young, with a mop of dark hair. His eyes however, were a dark, deep blue, glittering as he conversed with the King of Mirkwood.
"Most certainly it would," Thranduil agreed, taking a sip from his wine goblet. "What benefits are there exactly? From your point of view?"
Legolas sighed and started playing with his fork. He found this all incredibly boring, and would give anything to be outside right now, high away in a tree, all on his own, admiring the view…
"Well we shall undoubtedly think this over very carefully," he heard his father say. He looked at the King. Thranduil had his long golden hair braided back in a traditional fashion, with a few strands trailing down over each shoulder. A crown of red berries and green leaves was upon his head, making look even more regal than usual. He wore a beautiful silver tunic, and had a robe of dark green slipped around his shoulders. There was a very slight frown on his forehead, the 'serious kingly look' as Legolas liked to call it. He was clearly concentrating very hard on the matter of an alliance with these people, and was taking their ideas into thorough consideration. On his far side was his chief adviser, Maenherdir. Legolas wasn't fond of Maenherdir to say the least. He was a very stern person who took his work extremely seriously.
He felt a gentle slap on his leg and he placed the fork back down on the table. He stole a glance at his mother, who was still looking at the men, not seeming to take any notice of her son. He sighed again and slumped back into his chair. He ignored her look and started fiddling with a strand of hair.
Just as she was about to say something to him about his behaviour, the servants arrived with platters piled high with food. He grinned to himself and sat up straight again.
As everyone helped himself or herself to food, he went over his earlier thoughts. How much longer could he honestly stand all these important meals and meetings? They were always so tediously boring. Why did he always have to attend? He never said anything to anyone, or put forward any ideas of his own. Perhaps when he was older, Thranduil would let him off having to go to every single one. But wait…he was an immortal Prince!
As this final concept entered his head, he suddenly lost his appetite. He took a couple of mouthfuls but then pushed his plate away. He took a sip of water, (he was not yet allowed wine, except at dances and annual feasts), then sat back in his chair.
"Legolas?" his mother asked, looking at him. "Mana na roeg?" (What is wrong?)
"Úqua Naneth." (Nothing mother.)
"Medi-qua." (Eat something.)
Legolas shook his head. He could see the men listening in, even though they could not understand their language. "I'm not hungry." He reverted back to normal speech.
"Very well," she replied. "But don't complain to me if you are hungry later."
"I won't." He smiled reassuringly at her, and then took another sip of water. He could feel his circlet slipping, so he straightened it up as best he could without a mirror.
The man sat opposite him smiled. "That crown uncomfortable my Lord?" he asked.
Legolas smiled politely in return. "Just a little Sir. Keeps slipping."
"I can see that."
Legolas smiled again, and looked down the table. Next to the man who had just spoken to him was a young girl, who looked scared stiff. She had unusually dark hair, almost black. Her eyes were blue like his own, and wide with awe. He smiled softly at her, and she smiled faintly in return.
"This here's my daughter, Celille," the man told the Prince.
"Hello Celille," Legolas said gently.
"My Lord," she replied in a timid voice, barely audible above the noise of the diners. She inclined her head a little in respect. She had obviously been drilled beforehand on how to behave in front of the Royal Family.
"Legolas," he heard Brilmír say.
He turned to her. "Yes Naneth?"
"Be a dear and fetch your father's maps from his study."
He nodded. "Of course. Back in a moment." He excused himself from the rest of the guests and hurried out of the room. He could feel many eyes watching his retreating back.
He leant back against the door as he shut it behind him. Smiling to himself, he stood up straight. He had escaped, if only for a short while. He made his casually down the corridor, round a few corners, until he came to Thranduil's' study.
It was a fairly large and spacious room, with a high ceiling. Mirkwood Palace was of course, built into the caves, and so each and every room had walls of stone. Into each were carved immaculate designs. Thranduil's' study however, was lavishly decorated.
Each wall was carved as a tree, the branches, and leaves stretching up to the ceiling, spreading out across it, and meeting in the middle where a crystal chandelier hung. It was lit with candles in the evening, but they were not yet burning. Pillars stood beside the trees, also carved into the walls. On one wall, there was a grate in an exquisite fireplace. It was built into the wall, and there were logs burning merrily away, making the room feel more homely. On the mantelpiece itself were ornaments made of stone and wood, figurines Thranduil himself had made. Mini statues of archers and horses spaced in between two rather fancy candleholders, in which stood two candles that had never been used, and Legolas doubted if they ever would be.
Above the fireplace hung a painting of Oropher, Thranduil's' father, and Legolas' grandfather. He had never met the great King, as he had died in the Great Battle against the Dark Lord in the Second Age. But Legolas could clearly see the likeness between the past and present King. Thranduil had the same hair as Oropher, same eyes, and same stature. In the painting, he wore a gentle expression, but one that showed power, authority, and strength. He was dressed in the typical colours of Mirkwood – green, silver, and brown. He was standing in a clearing in the forest, just beside the River, one Legolas knew well. His horse was grazing just behind him in the tall grasses beside the water. A waterfall tumbled down into a deep pool, and every summer, Elves would go down there and dive in. It was a part of the river that was enchanted, but the spells did not work on Elves. They were completely unaffected by it.
The floor was covered with a dark red rug, hemmed with gold. Sewn into it was literally Mirkwood forest. Tall trees with dark green leaves, the river running more or less through the middle, ending in a waterfall at one end, the end beside the fireplace. All manner of animals were placed in and amongst the trees – deer, horses, foxes, rabbits. Birds were sat in branches or flying around the treetops. It was a calm, peaceful scene, but full of mystery and wonder.
Legolas turned to the desk that stood in front of the balcony windows. It was reasonably tidy, but covered with papers, quills, and inkbottles. In one corner was a vase, full of pale violet irises. Their small flowers were surrounded by green foliage, which highlighted the white and yellow markings on the petals. He saw the maps, and picked them up. As he tucked them under his arm, a ray of sunlight filtering through the drawn curtains caught his eye. He couldn't resist having a peek at the outside world. He placed the maps back down and drew back the curtains.
The sunlight poured in, lighting every corner. Opening the doors, he stepped out onto the balcony. Thranduil's' study overlooked the main courtyard, and so he could see everything from here. Legolas leant against the railings and looked around.
It was midday, and so the sun was high up in the sky. Many Elves were walking around below him, leading horses to and from the stables, heading out into the woods on patrol, or just generally walking around, talking to others they met.
Trees and climbers that grew up the face of the caves trailed onto the balcony, gripping and twirling up the railings. It was autumn, coming up to winter, and so there was a chill breeze blowing the red and golden leaves around. That was why Thranduil had had a fire lit.
He stood out there for a few precious moments, then slowly headed back inside. He shut and locked the doors, then reluctantly drew the curtains again. He loved being outside, and couldn't wait until he was old enough to go out by himself.
He picked up the maps again and hurried back down the corridor. He had lingered too long already, and Brilmír would be wondering where he had gotten to.
He handed the maps to his father, and quickly sat back down again. Smoothed his hair, straightened his circlet, (again), and then he was ready.
"What took you so long?" Brilmír asked in a whisper.
"Adar's desk is rather untidy," he quickly answered. It was only a little white lie. It was untidy…now that he had messed it up a bit by grabbing random maps.
"Hmm." Brilmír raised a questioning eyebrow, but turned back to her conversation with the leader's wife.
Legolas grinned to himself and drank some more water. He caught Celilles' gaze, and she grinned at him. He grinned back. Perhaps, if he talked to her, this meal wouldn't be so bad after all.
So how was that for a first chapter? Good, ok, awful…?
Poor Leggy. Hates his life, so doesn't know what to do. Aww. Perhaps some nice reviews would cheer him up? As well as myself of course!
Lainfaer