CHAPTER TWO. 'Any Greater Fear'
Dinner was a feast, as expected of the wood-elves. Wine went all around and good food seemed to grow out of the ornate tables as the elves who were given the honor of sharing the meal with their King chattered about good- humoredly. On the head table sat the King himself, and on his right was Legolas and Lehramie. On his left sat his niece, the lovely Reeneal, and her older brother Feniel.
Most of the talk and laughter centered on Legolas and Lehramie's hunting expedition gone wrong. The Prince took the ribbings in good stride, while Lehramie sat there in silence, an amused smile on his face. The King was patiently listening to the exchanges inside the room, obviously taking great pleasure out of his son's discomfiture.
Meanwhile, Feniel sat sullen, as if in deep thought, smiling every now and then and pretending to listen to the conversations going around. But on the face of his younger sister Reeneal could be seen a serene expression and an adoring smile as she gazed upon Lehramie. This look was not lost on some of the elves in the room, including Legolas and Lehramie. Indeed, many times during dinner Lehramie's blue eyes would meet those of Reeneal's green ones, only to look away again.
A roar of laughter from their dinner companions interrupted Lehramie's brooding. He shook himself mentally and looked up to find Legolas turning a beet-red beside him. Lehramie gave a small laugh, not knowing exactly what brought it on but amused nevertheless at Legolas' state.
But Feniel didn't seem to find anything amusing. In a somber tone he said, "You could have put your life in peril, cousin, wandering off towards the wasteland like that. It is a dangerous place, you know that." Without waiting for a reply from Legolas, he turned indifferent eyes towards Lehramie. "But of course, your...protector, Lehramie, was there. There was not any need for worries, am I right?"
The hard edge to Feniel's tone was not lost on Lehramie, as well as a few others around the table. Some of them shifted uncomfortably in their seats as awkward silence reigned, eventually broken by Legolas.
"But of course, cousin Feniel," he said proudly, not a trace of malice in his voice. "Lehramie is like my brother. I trust him with my life."
Lehramie's gaze swung to meet Legolas' trusting eyes. Ah, so much trust, so much adoration in those blue eyes that mirrored his own. He smiled at the younger elf, an unspoken promise passing between them. Lehramie had no one else; his father Gerian passed away into the Undying Lands to join his wife, and he had no siblings. He had no one...except, of course, Legolas.
Feniel watched them intently, his earnest tone belying the hardness in his brown eyes. "Ah, yes. Who wouldn't? One of the best archers and wielders of a blade, one would be unwise not to trust their lives in his hands."
Lehramie immediately tensed, his hands clenched into fists as he bit his lip, not wanting to cause any scene with Feniel. The King's nephew had always made it pretty clear that he holds no soft spot for him, and that was always fine for Lehramie. Besides, Feniel was the King's nephew...Legolas' cousin...Reeneal's older brother...
King Thranduil cleared his throat, sensing the tension in Lehramie. With a quick motion of his hands, he beckoned the maidservants to bring in more food and wine. At the sight of the bounty the others seemed to forget the strain that invaded the room a while ago, and moved to partake of the spread laid out before them.
The rest of the evening went by without any mishaps. When the others retired for the night, Legolas and Lehramie still lingered in the hallway outside the Prince's rooms.
"Odd." Legolas spoke, looking about as if expecting someone eavesdropping down the hall.
"What is?" Lehramie asked, wondering what the Prince is looking for.
Although assured that no one else was listening, Legolas still spoke in a conspiratorial manner. "Feniel. He spoke to you. My cousin actually looked at you and engaged you in a conversation."
Lehramie became thoughtful for a moment, and then nodded. "He did, didn't he? Although what transpired between us hardly qualifies as a conversation."
"Curt though he was, he still spoke to you. That is something, right?"
Lehramie lifted his shoulders. "I fear it does not mean a thing, on his part, at least." He paused, looking earnestly at Legolas. "Your cousin does not like me, Legolas. In sooth, I think he hates me."
"That's rubbish!" Legolas shook his head vehemently in disbelief. "I do not entirely like Feniel but he is, after all, my cousin. Perhaps he was just having trouble of some sort. Besides, he is harmless, not even what we would refer to as 'skilled' with the bow."
Lehramie changed the subject, pushing Legolas towards the door of his room. "You better get some rest, Legolas, or you will be in trouble when we meet to train tomorrow."
"Someone will be in trouble, all right, but it won't be me!" Legolas' eyes suddenly glinted teasingly. "On your way home, why not stop by Reeneal's? You might want to talk to her."
Lehramie's face was a mask of innocence as he stared blankly at his friend. But Legolas did not buy it.
"Oh, come, Lehramie! I saw the way she was looking at you at dinner. Go talk to her! It's clear enough she holds you dear, and I doubt not that you feel the same."
Lehramie merely shrugged, an almost wistful smile surfaced on his face. He tilted his head at his friend and said, "Go on in now, my Prince. It is time for me to hit the pillows as well." Bidding each other good night, Lehramie walked off down the hall and Legolas went into his rooms.
He was almost to the great door of the palace when he heard the soft voice that kept him awake for nights on end.
"Lehramie. Will you leave without saying good night?"
Slowly he turned and beheld her as she stood there, breathtakingly beautiful and looking absolutely divine in the dim light of the great hall. She still had not changed from the leaf-green gown she wore at dinner, and this made Lehramie frown.
"Reeneal," he said softly. "What are you doing out of your rooms at this hour? You were supposed to be asleep now." Protectiveness surged within him, more out of instinct. Truly, he feels most protective towards three people alone: the King Thranduil, Legolas and Reeneal.
"I could not sleep," she replied, and took a step forward, stopping when she saw Lehramie stiffen at her approach. "Oh, Lehramie, why do you shun me so?"
Lehramie shook his head, not knowing how to explain. "It is not that, Reeneal. It is just...It is hardly proper...your brother..."
It was Reeneal's turn to shake her head, a small smile lighting up her fair features. "Feniel? He hardly cares what goes on around him, least of all about me." She gracefully moved towards him and, transfixed, Lehramie stood there, watching her seemingly glide.
He could not find any words when she finally stopped before him and looked deep into his sapphire eyes. Neither could he move an inch when Reeneal reached up to softly touch his left chin.
"Such beautiful eyes you have," she whispered with such tenderness. "Like gems. I don't believe I have ever seen such...beauty."
Carefully Lehramie grasped her hand touching his face and held it away from him. "No, my Lady," he said, his voice choking with emotions as he let go of her hand and took a step back. He tried to close his mind off, tried to ignore the anguish that swiftly invaded her beautiful face.
Lehramie could not bear to see this. He gave her a pleading look and said, "You know what is in my heart." Reeneal shook her head and he could see tears threatening to burst through the orbs of her green eyes. "Never doubt, not even for one moment, that what I feel is untrue."
"You lie." Such pain was mirrored in her eyes, glazed over by tears about to flow. Lehramie gazed at Reeneal, his heart in his eyes, and his pain as well. "You must understand. Honor dictates that I keep my distance. My honor, and yours."
"There is nothing dishonorable about---!" Her voice lowered to a whisper, but Lehramie heard her all the same. "Is honor the only thing you care about?"
"It is the only thing I have which is truly mine," he said simply. "I do not want to make enemies, Reeneal, especially of your brother. I respect him. I also respect the fact that you are of noble birth, and I am not."
"What about your heart?" A single tear slipped down her velvety cheek. "You speak of honor and respect...what of your happiness?"
A wistful smile surfaced on Lehramie's face. "Ah, but to behold your beauty in the morning and listen to your voice which is my heart's melody...I am content."
Silence reigned for a long moment between them as Lehramie met Reeneal's imploring look with kind but resolute eyes. Gradually Reeneal's face brightened and she beamed at him. "Time will pass, surely things will change. Perhaps then..."
Lehramie only nodded. "Perhaps." He did not want to promise anything, although his heart all but burst with the longing that engulfed it right this moment.
Reeneal moved forward slightly and touched Lehramie's cheek one more time. "Rest well, Lehramie," she whispered walked away towards the hall to her room. Lehramie stood there for a moment, watching her. When he heard the lock of her door slip into place, he ventured out of the palace towards his own humble home.
Unbeknownst to him, a pair of brown eyes observed his progress. Lip curling with disgust, Feniel's fist gripped the window jamb, jealousy searing through him like hot liquid fire. Even his sister Reeneal...
He turned away from the window, fighting the urge to confront Reeneal next door. It was not her fault that she was blinded by Lehramie's charms. What on earth do they see in that lowly elf!
Feniel knew that a lot of people do not like him and his attitude. But he has one trait: patience. He is a very patient being. But for the first time in his life, he felt on the verge of losing it.
Feniel sighed. Well, if he was the only one able to see through Lehramie's innocent façade, then he would have to do something about it, wouldn't he? He is, after all, kin to the King. It's his duty.
When you play with stakes this high, there's no right or wrong. By fair means or foul, he must sever the ties between his cousin and the commoner.
* * * * * * * * * *
Legolas heard the rapping on the great wooden door of his room as he was preparing to sleep. When he called for the visitor to come in, the door slowly opened to admit his cousin Feniel.
"Feniel!" Legolas greeted the older elf and bade him come in. "You need anything?"
"I just felt like a talk," Feniel replied, closing the door behind him. "If you have the time to spare."
"Of course, I have." Legolas wondered what brought Feniel into his rooms. They rarely 'talk'. All they had were exchanges that were quite few and far between.
"I thought you would be exhausted, considering all the time you spend with Lehramie. What mischief have you managed to get yourselves into this time?"
It dawned on Legolas what brought his cousin over when Feniel spoke Lehramie's name with a chilly voice. "It was hardly mischief, Feniel," he reassured the older elf.
"Then what do you call it? Causing ruckus in the courtyard, stirring trouble, bursting in on people...you act like errant children!"
He tried to give a wide grin. "Oh, but we are children, Feniel! Alright," the Prince said in resignation and leaned back, "let us finally have it in the open. What bothers you, really?"
"You trust him too much, Legolas!" Feniel burst out. "You treat him like an equal when he is not!"
Legolas sighed. "I am beginning to tire of this exchange, Feniel. Really, we are all of one race, of one blood, all of us elves. Your endless talk of nobles and commoners is sheer nonsense!"
"Nonsense, is it? Legolas, there is a reason why thrones and plain chairs are crafted, why palaces and lowly houses are built. One reason: People are intended to use them, dwell in them. We may be of the same race but there is something that sets you and me apart – and above – the rest of them. The noble blood of our royal ancestors." Ignoring Legolas' shaking his head, he went on. "What's more, you spend more time with him than you do with the rest of the family! You must be careful."
"You make Lehramie sound dangerous. A threat."
Feniel shrugged. "Perhaps he is. Granted, he is a good warrior, very polite, always with good intentions...but we do not really know much about him, do we?" He tried a different tack. "All I am saying is, be careful. Do not trust him too much. We could not know for sure what he is truly like."
Legolas' brows are now furrowed. "Elaborate."
"Let me remind you, then. His grandfather Rolfan, although presumed dead, the thought on everyone's mind is this: what if the great Rolfan happens to be one of those monstrous orcs our warriors constantly cross paths with? What if, by Rolfan's hideous hands and gruesome teeth, the flesh of our elven-kind was torn, their lives snuffed?" He began pacing. "And do not forget Lehramie's mother, that traitorous -"
"She was not a traitor," Legolas butted in, getting irritated at the flow the conversation is going.
"She turned her back on her elven-kind at a time when they most needed her! At their hour of need, where was she? She opted instead to go out of Greenwood, leaving behind her kin to perish in the plague. And she called herself a healer," he spat out with disgust.
"She went in search of Rolfan, her father," Legolas pointed out.
"And did she find him? Who paid the price for her heroics? A lot, including my mother."
Legolas stared at Feniel, sympathy in the depths of his blue eyes. "It was a tragedy, Feniel."
A bitter smile distorted Feniel's fair face. "Yes. A tragedy. Something I do not want to befall on my family...on you, Legolas."
Legolas chose not to say anything this time. Feniel straightened and headed for the door, turning back when he opened it. "There is darkness in him, Legolas. I sense it. I see it. It might be that you choose not to, but heed my warnings, cousin." With that, he was gone.
Legolas stared at the closed door, mulling over Feniel's words. Then he shook his head. Lehramie is his friend, his brother. He has no reason to doubt him.
* * * * * * * * * *
"Eyes ahead!" Lehramie bellowed, shaking his head in disapproval as Legolas stumbled, falling on his stomach on the grassy ground. Lehramie reached out a hand and roughly pulled the Prince to his feet. "Never for one moment break eye contact with your opponent, or that will be the end of you!"
With one swift movement, Lehramie was on top of Legolas, pinning him to the ground. Stunned, the Prince tried to get up but found he was immobilized by Lehramie's weight. A spurt of anger erupted within him and, with a livid cry tried to push Lehramie away.
This proved futile when Lehramie easily flicked Legolas' wrist, sending the Prince's knife from his hand. "Do not be such a child, Legolas," Lehramie whispered and pulled away. Legolas lay there, breathing hard, his ire was all the more stoked when he spotted the calm look on Lehramie's face.
"You took me by surprise!"
"Which is what every opponent will try to do." Lehramie sat on the ground, leaning back. "Never attack in anger, Legolas. You see what just happened? You tried to strike me in rage, and you were disarmed. Anger clouds the mind. Remember that. In a fight, keep your cool. Try to focus. Concentrate."
The anger within Legolas gave way to frustration, flowing through him as he bent to pick up the knife he had dropped. "Could we not go back to training with the bow?"
"You cannot hope to be a warrior if you familiarize yourself with only a single weapon. You have to be skilled with the bow and the knife. Do not limit yourself." Lehramie stepped back. "Now, do it again, and make the lunge cleaner this time."
Legolas shook his head in exasperation but obeyed just the same. After more than two hours, Lehramie grudgingly declared Legolas had a better grip than when he started earlier.
Worn out, Legolas stretched out on the grass and stared up at the vast blue sky. Lehramie did the same beside him, oblivious to the sound of other warriors training nearby.
"Your skill with the bow is increasing, although you still need more training," Lehramie said. "You will learn how to use the knife easily enough, that much is clear."
"Training with the knife is maddening! Look at these nicks and cuts!"
"Oh, quit whining, Legolas! Those are mere scratches! In battle, you better pull out all the stops and fight like your life depends on it. But be prudent enough to know your limits. That is what we are trying to do. It is wiser to know your skills are mediocre here than in the middle of battle."
Legolas mulled over this for a while, and said, "When will you teach me how to wield a sword?"
"I will not," came the faint reply.
Legolas turned his head to find Lehramie had closed his eyes. "Why not? You are very good with it. You can teach me."
"I can, but I won't. There is already enough talk amongst the others about my using a sword. I will not subject you to various talks about it."
Legolas smirked. "Since when did you care what the others say about you?"
"Never. But it is you they will talk about, you who will be the focus of much speculation. I would have none of that."
"You are very good with those massive blades. Exceptional, I think, is how Father rated your skill." He paused. "Do you like it?"
A scoff issued from Lehramie. "The blade? Not in the least. But I still try to learn it. It is, after all, what ended Father's life." He paused, paying respect to the memory of the slain Gerian. "Swords are designed to kill, Legolas. Swordsmanship is a method for killing, no matter how you try to make it clean and beautiful. No, I do not like it at all."
"Just as well. As much as I respect a sword, it is not to my liking. I'd prefer my bow...and my knife." Legolas beamed. "I shall make you proud of me, my friend. I will be one of the toughest warriors our race had ever known. They shall fear me, in a reverential way, of course." Lehramie smiled in spite of himself, but his tone was still that of a teacher talking to his pupil. "The toughest warriors are not necessarily the ones with the greatest strength, nor the ones with the finest weapons or unsurpassed skills. The toughest warriors are the ones who lay down their weapons and find a more productive way to live...in service of others, perhaps."
Wonder filled Legolas' blue eyes as he beheld his friend. "You are one of the toughest warriors I have ever had the honor of knowing. Is there nothing you fear?"
For a split second Legolas thought Lehramie would not reply for he turned away. Then he looked back up, a small smile betraying the sadness in the eyes that mirrored Legolas' own. "The dark. Caves, tunnels...they terrify me. The thought of being in those forsaken places, with no light, alone...it's unbearable."
The Prince fully shared Lehramie's fear, albeit for slightly different reasons. Legolas had heard the stories brought by scouts about those places, and that was enough for him to develop a fear of venturing into them. Lehramie's fear, however, ran deeper than that. His grandfather, Rolfan, Gerian's father, was among those ill-fated elves who fell into the hands of the Dark Lord during the First Age. Tortured, mutilated...Rolfan was widely believed to have become one of the first breeds of Orcs. Although everyone had concluded that Rolfan had perished, Lehramie had that long- lingering fear that his grandfather still existed, now one of those deformed and foul beings, inhabiting the many crevices of Middle-Earth.
"But if I do get into one," Lehramie continued, now smiling more widely, "I'll make sure you were there with me to share the experience."
Legolas laughed. He loves having these talks with Lehramie. Always he learned something from his friend, older by a mere margin of eighteen years but seemed as wise as Thranduil. Life as a commoner's son had molded him this way; his father Gerian had taught him well.
Out of the blue, Feniel's words from the previous night came back, but Legolas merely smiled to himself. The darkness in Lehramie, as Feniel put it, was eclipsed by the light of his character, the strength of his faith, the goodness in his heart and the wisdom that he seemed to embody.
Lehramie nudging his side disturbed his musing. "On your feet, my friend. The day is not over yet, and so is your training."
With a disgruntled groan Legolas let Lehramie pull him up. A very good teacher, but a ruthless one, too. Shaking his head in a mixture of frustration and amusement, Legolas picked up the knife and prepared to train again.
* * * * * * * * * *
His name is Gleofur, one of the palace's newest guards. More than a hundred years old, he came from a family who had spent their entire lives working in the palace, serving the royal family. Upon his father's death it seemed but natural that Gleofur take his place.
An astute admirer of the King, Gleofur was ambitious. He wanted more than anything to be famous, to be respected and revered. He would do anything to have the life that the royal family lived now. ANYTHING.
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Thanks to Haldir's Heart and Soul for the reviews! (
Dinner was a feast, as expected of the wood-elves. Wine went all around and good food seemed to grow out of the ornate tables as the elves who were given the honor of sharing the meal with their King chattered about good- humoredly. On the head table sat the King himself, and on his right was Legolas and Lehramie. On his left sat his niece, the lovely Reeneal, and her older brother Feniel.
Most of the talk and laughter centered on Legolas and Lehramie's hunting expedition gone wrong. The Prince took the ribbings in good stride, while Lehramie sat there in silence, an amused smile on his face. The King was patiently listening to the exchanges inside the room, obviously taking great pleasure out of his son's discomfiture.
Meanwhile, Feniel sat sullen, as if in deep thought, smiling every now and then and pretending to listen to the conversations going around. But on the face of his younger sister Reeneal could be seen a serene expression and an adoring smile as she gazed upon Lehramie. This look was not lost on some of the elves in the room, including Legolas and Lehramie. Indeed, many times during dinner Lehramie's blue eyes would meet those of Reeneal's green ones, only to look away again.
A roar of laughter from their dinner companions interrupted Lehramie's brooding. He shook himself mentally and looked up to find Legolas turning a beet-red beside him. Lehramie gave a small laugh, not knowing exactly what brought it on but amused nevertheless at Legolas' state.
But Feniel didn't seem to find anything amusing. In a somber tone he said, "You could have put your life in peril, cousin, wandering off towards the wasteland like that. It is a dangerous place, you know that." Without waiting for a reply from Legolas, he turned indifferent eyes towards Lehramie. "But of course, your...protector, Lehramie, was there. There was not any need for worries, am I right?"
The hard edge to Feniel's tone was not lost on Lehramie, as well as a few others around the table. Some of them shifted uncomfortably in their seats as awkward silence reigned, eventually broken by Legolas.
"But of course, cousin Feniel," he said proudly, not a trace of malice in his voice. "Lehramie is like my brother. I trust him with my life."
Lehramie's gaze swung to meet Legolas' trusting eyes. Ah, so much trust, so much adoration in those blue eyes that mirrored his own. He smiled at the younger elf, an unspoken promise passing between them. Lehramie had no one else; his father Gerian passed away into the Undying Lands to join his wife, and he had no siblings. He had no one...except, of course, Legolas.
Feniel watched them intently, his earnest tone belying the hardness in his brown eyes. "Ah, yes. Who wouldn't? One of the best archers and wielders of a blade, one would be unwise not to trust their lives in his hands."
Lehramie immediately tensed, his hands clenched into fists as he bit his lip, not wanting to cause any scene with Feniel. The King's nephew had always made it pretty clear that he holds no soft spot for him, and that was always fine for Lehramie. Besides, Feniel was the King's nephew...Legolas' cousin...Reeneal's older brother...
King Thranduil cleared his throat, sensing the tension in Lehramie. With a quick motion of his hands, he beckoned the maidservants to bring in more food and wine. At the sight of the bounty the others seemed to forget the strain that invaded the room a while ago, and moved to partake of the spread laid out before them.
The rest of the evening went by without any mishaps. When the others retired for the night, Legolas and Lehramie still lingered in the hallway outside the Prince's rooms.
"Odd." Legolas spoke, looking about as if expecting someone eavesdropping down the hall.
"What is?" Lehramie asked, wondering what the Prince is looking for.
Although assured that no one else was listening, Legolas still spoke in a conspiratorial manner. "Feniel. He spoke to you. My cousin actually looked at you and engaged you in a conversation."
Lehramie became thoughtful for a moment, and then nodded. "He did, didn't he? Although what transpired between us hardly qualifies as a conversation."
"Curt though he was, he still spoke to you. That is something, right?"
Lehramie lifted his shoulders. "I fear it does not mean a thing, on his part, at least." He paused, looking earnestly at Legolas. "Your cousin does not like me, Legolas. In sooth, I think he hates me."
"That's rubbish!" Legolas shook his head vehemently in disbelief. "I do not entirely like Feniel but he is, after all, my cousin. Perhaps he was just having trouble of some sort. Besides, he is harmless, not even what we would refer to as 'skilled' with the bow."
Lehramie changed the subject, pushing Legolas towards the door of his room. "You better get some rest, Legolas, or you will be in trouble when we meet to train tomorrow."
"Someone will be in trouble, all right, but it won't be me!" Legolas' eyes suddenly glinted teasingly. "On your way home, why not stop by Reeneal's? You might want to talk to her."
Lehramie's face was a mask of innocence as he stared blankly at his friend. But Legolas did not buy it.
"Oh, come, Lehramie! I saw the way she was looking at you at dinner. Go talk to her! It's clear enough she holds you dear, and I doubt not that you feel the same."
Lehramie merely shrugged, an almost wistful smile surfaced on his face. He tilted his head at his friend and said, "Go on in now, my Prince. It is time for me to hit the pillows as well." Bidding each other good night, Lehramie walked off down the hall and Legolas went into his rooms.
He was almost to the great door of the palace when he heard the soft voice that kept him awake for nights on end.
"Lehramie. Will you leave without saying good night?"
Slowly he turned and beheld her as she stood there, breathtakingly beautiful and looking absolutely divine in the dim light of the great hall. She still had not changed from the leaf-green gown she wore at dinner, and this made Lehramie frown.
"Reeneal," he said softly. "What are you doing out of your rooms at this hour? You were supposed to be asleep now." Protectiveness surged within him, more out of instinct. Truly, he feels most protective towards three people alone: the King Thranduil, Legolas and Reeneal.
"I could not sleep," she replied, and took a step forward, stopping when she saw Lehramie stiffen at her approach. "Oh, Lehramie, why do you shun me so?"
Lehramie shook his head, not knowing how to explain. "It is not that, Reeneal. It is just...It is hardly proper...your brother..."
It was Reeneal's turn to shake her head, a small smile lighting up her fair features. "Feniel? He hardly cares what goes on around him, least of all about me." She gracefully moved towards him and, transfixed, Lehramie stood there, watching her seemingly glide.
He could not find any words when she finally stopped before him and looked deep into his sapphire eyes. Neither could he move an inch when Reeneal reached up to softly touch his left chin.
"Such beautiful eyes you have," she whispered with such tenderness. "Like gems. I don't believe I have ever seen such...beauty."
Carefully Lehramie grasped her hand touching his face and held it away from him. "No, my Lady," he said, his voice choking with emotions as he let go of her hand and took a step back. He tried to close his mind off, tried to ignore the anguish that swiftly invaded her beautiful face.
Lehramie could not bear to see this. He gave her a pleading look and said, "You know what is in my heart." Reeneal shook her head and he could see tears threatening to burst through the orbs of her green eyes. "Never doubt, not even for one moment, that what I feel is untrue."
"You lie." Such pain was mirrored in her eyes, glazed over by tears about to flow. Lehramie gazed at Reeneal, his heart in his eyes, and his pain as well. "You must understand. Honor dictates that I keep my distance. My honor, and yours."
"There is nothing dishonorable about---!" Her voice lowered to a whisper, but Lehramie heard her all the same. "Is honor the only thing you care about?"
"It is the only thing I have which is truly mine," he said simply. "I do not want to make enemies, Reeneal, especially of your brother. I respect him. I also respect the fact that you are of noble birth, and I am not."
"What about your heart?" A single tear slipped down her velvety cheek. "You speak of honor and respect...what of your happiness?"
A wistful smile surfaced on Lehramie's face. "Ah, but to behold your beauty in the morning and listen to your voice which is my heart's melody...I am content."
Silence reigned for a long moment between them as Lehramie met Reeneal's imploring look with kind but resolute eyes. Gradually Reeneal's face brightened and she beamed at him. "Time will pass, surely things will change. Perhaps then..."
Lehramie only nodded. "Perhaps." He did not want to promise anything, although his heart all but burst with the longing that engulfed it right this moment.
Reeneal moved forward slightly and touched Lehramie's cheek one more time. "Rest well, Lehramie," she whispered walked away towards the hall to her room. Lehramie stood there for a moment, watching her. When he heard the lock of her door slip into place, he ventured out of the palace towards his own humble home.
Unbeknownst to him, a pair of brown eyes observed his progress. Lip curling with disgust, Feniel's fist gripped the window jamb, jealousy searing through him like hot liquid fire. Even his sister Reeneal...
He turned away from the window, fighting the urge to confront Reeneal next door. It was not her fault that she was blinded by Lehramie's charms. What on earth do they see in that lowly elf!
Feniel knew that a lot of people do not like him and his attitude. But he has one trait: patience. He is a very patient being. But for the first time in his life, he felt on the verge of losing it.
Feniel sighed. Well, if he was the only one able to see through Lehramie's innocent façade, then he would have to do something about it, wouldn't he? He is, after all, kin to the King. It's his duty.
When you play with stakes this high, there's no right or wrong. By fair means or foul, he must sever the ties between his cousin and the commoner.
* * * * * * * * * *
Legolas heard the rapping on the great wooden door of his room as he was preparing to sleep. When he called for the visitor to come in, the door slowly opened to admit his cousin Feniel.
"Feniel!" Legolas greeted the older elf and bade him come in. "You need anything?"
"I just felt like a talk," Feniel replied, closing the door behind him. "If you have the time to spare."
"Of course, I have." Legolas wondered what brought Feniel into his rooms. They rarely 'talk'. All they had were exchanges that were quite few and far between.
"I thought you would be exhausted, considering all the time you spend with Lehramie. What mischief have you managed to get yourselves into this time?"
It dawned on Legolas what brought his cousin over when Feniel spoke Lehramie's name with a chilly voice. "It was hardly mischief, Feniel," he reassured the older elf.
"Then what do you call it? Causing ruckus in the courtyard, stirring trouble, bursting in on people...you act like errant children!"
He tried to give a wide grin. "Oh, but we are children, Feniel! Alright," the Prince said in resignation and leaned back, "let us finally have it in the open. What bothers you, really?"
"You trust him too much, Legolas!" Feniel burst out. "You treat him like an equal when he is not!"
Legolas sighed. "I am beginning to tire of this exchange, Feniel. Really, we are all of one race, of one blood, all of us elves. Your endless talk of nobles and commoners is sheer nonsense!"
"Nonsense, is it? Legolas, there is a reason why thrones and plain chairs are crafted, why palaces and lowly houses are built. One reason: People are intended to use them, dwell in them. We may be of the same race but there is something that sets you and me apart – and above – the rest of them. The noble blood of our royal ancestors." Ignoring Legolas' shaking his head, he went on. "What's more, you spend more time with him than you do with the rest of the family! You must be careful."
"You make Lehramie sound dangerous. A threat."
Feniel shrugged. "Perhaps he is. Granted, he is a good warrior, very polite, always with good intentions...but we do not really know much about him, do we?" He tried a different tack. "All I am saying is, be careful. Do not trust him too much. We could not know for sure what he is truly like."
Legolas' brows are now furrowed. "Elaborate."
"Let me remind you, then. His grandfather Rolfan, although presumed dead, the thought on everyone's mind is this: what if the great Rolfan happens to be one of those monstrous orcs our warriors constantly cross paths with? What if, by Rolfan's hideous hands and gruesome teeth, the flesh of our elven-kind was torn, their lives snuffed?" He began pacing. "And do not forget Lehramie's mother, that traitorous -"
"She was not a traitor," Legolas butted in, getting irritated at the flow the conversation is going.
"She turned her back on her elven-kind at a time when they most needed her! At their hour of need, where was she? She opted instead to go out of Greenwood, leaving behind her kin to perish in the plague. And she called herself a healer," he spat out with disgust.
"She went in search of Rolfan, her father," Legolas pointed out.
"And did she find him? Who paid the price for her heroics? A lot, including my mother."
Legolas stared at Feniel, sympathy in the depths of his blue eyes. "It was a tragedy, Feniel."
A bitter smile distorted Feniel's fair face. "Yes. A tragedy. Something I do not want to befall on my family...on you, Legolas."
Legolas chose not to say anything this time. Feniel straightened and headed for the door, turning back when he opened it. "There is darkness in him, Legolas. I sense it. I see it. It might be that you choose not to, but heed my warnings, cousin." With that, he was gone.
Legolas stared at the closed door, mulling over Feniel's words. Then he shook his head. Lehramie is his friend, his brother. He has no reason to doubt him.
* * * * * * * * * *
"Eyes ahead!" Lehramie bellowed, shaking his head in disapproval as Legolas stumbled, falling on his stomach on the grassy ground. Lehramie reached out a hand and roughly pulled the Prince to his feet. "Never for one moment break eye contact with your opponent, or that will be the end of you!"
With one swift movement, Lehramie was on top of Legolas, pinning him to the ground. Stunned, the Prince tried to get up but found he was immobilized by Lehramie's weight. A spurt of anger erupted within him and, with a livid cry tried to push Lehramie away.
This proved futile when Lehramie easily flicked Legolas' wrist, sending the Prince's knife from his hand. "Do not be such a child, Legolas," Lehramie whispered and pulled away. Legolas lay there, breathing hard, his ire was all the more stoked when he spotted the calm look on Lehramie's face.
"You took me by surprise!"
"Which is what every opponent will try to do." Lehramie sat on the ground, leaning back. "Never attack in anger, Legolas. You see what just happened? You tried to strike me in rage, and you were disarmed. Anger clouds the mind. Remember that. In a fight, keep your cool. Try to focus. Concentrate."
The anger within Legolas gave way to frustration, flowing through him as he bent to pick up the knife he had dropped. "Could we not go back to training with the bow?"
"You cannot hope to be a warrior if you familiarize yourself with only a single weapon. You have to be skilled with the bow and the knife. Do not limit yourself." Lehramie stepped back. "Now, do it again, and make the lunge cleaner this time."
Legolas shook his head in exasperation but obeyed just the same. After more than two hours, Lehramie grudgingly declared Legolas had a better grip than when he started earlier.
Worn out, Legolas stretched out on the grass and stared up at the vast blue sky. Lehramie did the same beside him, oblivious to the sound of other warriors training nearby.
"Your skill with the bow is increasing, although you still need more training," Lehramie said. "You will learn how to use the knife easily enough, that much is clear."
"Training with the knife is maddening! Look at these nicks and cuts!"
"Oh, quit whining, Legolas! Those are mere scratches! In battle, you better pull out all the stops and fight like your life depends on it. But be prudent enough to know your limits. That is what we are trying to do. It is wiser to know your skills are mediocre here than in the middle of battle."
Legolas mulled over this for a while, and said, "When will you teach me how to wield a sword?"
"I will not," came the faint reply.
Legolas turned his head to find Lehramie had closed his eyes. "Why not? You are very good with it. You can teach me."
"I can, but I won't. There is already enough talk amongst the others about my using a sword. I will not subject you to various talks about it."
Legolas smirked. "Since when did you care what the others say about you?"
"Never. But it is you they will talk about, you who will be the focus of much speculation. I would have none of that."
"You are very good with those massive blades. Exceptional, I think, is how Father rated your skill." He paused. "Do you like it?"
A scoff issued from Lehramie. "The blade? Not in the least. But I still try to learn it. It is, after all, what ended Father's life." He paused, paying respect to the memory of the slain Gerian. "Swords are designed to kill, Legolas. Swordsmanship is a method for killing, no matter how you try to make it clean and beautiful. No, I do not like it at all."
"Just as well. As much as I respect a sword, it is not to my liking. I'd prefer my bow...and my knife." Legolas beamed. "I shall make you proud of me, my friend. I will be one of the toughest warriors our race had ever known. They shall fear me, in a reverential way, of course." Lehramie smiled in spite of himself, but his tone was still that of a teacher talking to his pupil. "The toughest warriors are not necessarily the ones with the greatest strength, nor the ones with the finest weapons or unsurpassed skills. The toughest warriors are the ones who lay down their weapons and find a more productive way to live...in service of others, perhaps."
Wonder filled Legolas' blue eyes as he beheld his friend. "You are one of the toughest warriors I have ever had the honor of knowing. Is there nothing you fear?"
For a split second Legolas thought Lehramie would not reply for he turned away. Then he looked back up, a small smile betraying the sadness in the eyes that mirrored Legolas' own. "The dark. Caves, tunnels...they terrify me. The thought of being in those forsaken places, with no light, alone...it's unbearable."
The Prince fully shared Lehramie's fear, albeit for slightly different reasons. Legolas had heard the stories brought by scouts about those places, and that was enough for him to develop a fear of venturing into them. Lehramie's fear, however, ran deeper than that. His grandfather, Rolfan, Gerian's father, was among those ill-fated elves who fell into the hands of the Dark Lord during the First Age. Tortured, mutilated...Rolfan was widely believed to have become one of the first breeds of Orcs. Although everyone had concluded that Rolfan had perished, Lehramie had that long- lingering fear that his grandfather still existed, now one of those deformed and foul beings, inhabiting the many crevices of Middle-Earth.
"But if I do get into one," Lehramie continued, now smiling more widely, "I'll make sure you were there with me to share the experience."
Legolas laughed. He loves having these talks with Lehramie. Always he learned something from his friend, older by a mere margin of eighteen years but seemed as wise as Thranduil. Life as a commoner's son had molded him this way; his father Gerian had taught him well.
Out of the blue, Feniel's words from the previous night came back, but Legolas merely smiled to himself. The darkness in Lehramie, as Feniel put it, was eclipsed by the light of his character, the strength of his faith, the goodness in his heart and the wisdom that he seemed to embody.
Lehramie nudging his side disturbed his musing. "On your feet, my friend. The day is not over yet, and so is your training."
With a disgruntled groan Legolas let Lehramie pull him up. A very good teacher, but a ruthless one, too. Shaking his head in a mixture of frustration and amusement, Legolas picked up the knife and prepared to train again.
* * * * * * * * * *
His name is Gleofur, one of the palace's newest guards. More than a hundred years old, he came from a family who had spent their entire lives working in the palace, serving the royal family. Upon his father's death it seemed but natural that Gleofur take his place.
An astute admirer of the King, Gleofur was ambitious. He wanted more than anything to be famous, to be respected and revered. He would do anything to have the life that the royal family lived now. ANYTHING.
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