Oh, wow. I'm tired. And since no one asked anything last chapter, I'm just slapping this up and calling it a day.
Nea still isn't availible to beta for me, so I was on my own for the final draft (she helps alot with ideas and plot twists, and when I get stuck, but she hasn't actually read this yet). I thank her for the help she has given me, though... and I wish her computer was working! If it was, she'd be done with Not A Word, and Among The Brambles would have been updated! Argh!
Chapter 11
Legolas followed the slight sound of wolves to a small clearing he had been unaware of when they first left the area. He paused when he could see the rocks instead of descending to the ground at once as he had intended.
Nenya was in the midst of wolves, five of them crawling over her and grabbing onto her clothing, growling roughly as they tugged on the loose material.
"Never figured you for the brood of kids type," he teased, dropping into the clearing. Two of the pups wobbled over, latching immediately onto his boots.
She laughed softly and tossed him something. He shook the material out, and found a large, loose shirt. "Trust me," she murmured to his questioning look. She held up her arm, from which a roly-poly pup dangled by his sharp little teeth.
He shrugged into the shirt, glad for the extra layers when one of the bolder pups latched onto his arm, the fangs making it to the skin regardless. He glanced over at the full grown wolf lying slightly to the side. "How is she?"
"She'll be running again soon. Really, these little guys are the only thing stopping her. They need some more time to grow longer legs." The mother wolf lifted her head and made a soft noise, which almost sounded as a snap. "Time for us to run along," Nenya murmured, disentangling the pups from her clothing. She rubbed her hands up and down the fuzzy back of the pup that was still growling and pulling on Legolas's sleeves, distracting the small wolf long enough Legolas could pull himself free. In self defense as the pup wobbled after him, he leapt into the low branches of a tree. Nenya tugged the wayward pup's short tail, making him cry in annoyance and turn around, where he saw his siblings feeding happily. He lost interest in the two elves at once and went to join his family with a soft snort.
Nenya climbed up beside Legolas, glancing at him before walking back to the flet he had come through while looking for her. The one no one else really knew about, the one of those she had not led them to that he not only knew about but had been within on occasion. She picked up a book and slid into the swinging chair, laying her head against the back as she flipped through the old book to find her place.
After a moment of ignoring him, she smiled faintly and glanced up at him, crooking a brow in question. He smiled faintly and bowed his head ever so slightly. "If she is well, should we not continue back to the palace?"
"You wish to see your brother?"
The mere thought of his brother was enough to make Legolas's spine stiffen. "Not really," he stated, aware his voice was harsher than usual. He paused for a moment, closing his eyes as he drew a calming breath. "But I do miss Father and Eirthriel."
"You were born close to each other. I take it that closeness remained?"
Legolas started to nod when he paused. "How did you know she was born soon after I was?"
She smiled faintly. "You know your father writes to me. You think he would leave out such family news?"
"Not at all. But I do believe I am older than you."
"Indeed, you are correct. Not as much older as you probably assume. Apparently I look much younger than I am, even in the ways of elves."
"Then my father wrote your mother?"
"Of course," she agreed.
"She never came to the palace?"
"Only once that she told me of. Before you were born."
Having someone else speak so calmly of his own history, someone who was younger than he was, was a new experience for Legolas. He found he didn't particular enjoy it. "Then you began writing him?"
"I informed him of her leaving the forest, and expected the connection would be terminated. But a letter came, requesting that I keep him appraised of the forest, of my existence within it. He also said he would be of help should I ever require any."
"I believe you never requested any, since he saw you first at the same time I did."
She smiled and nodded slightly, lifting a hand to take in the trees around her. "What more could I ask?"
He thought about that for a moment. The only thing the palace really had to offer him was his father and sister. She didn't have any family that he knew about. "How about friends? Elven friends," he qualified when she began to answer.
Her eyes dimmed as they had the last time he had asked about such, and she slowly shook her head. "That is too much to ask."
She was slipping away yet again, seeking to lock herself out of reach. "Why do you hold us away?"
"For you… and for me," she admitted softly. "You will look back on this moment, one day, and you will laugh, wondering how you could have ever wished for my friendship."
He sighed as she started to bury her nose in the book again. "I think it more likely I shall wish to kick myself for not shaking some sense into you." With a shake of his head he studied the books for a moment, really looked at them as he hadn't before, seeking any reason not to leave her alone just yet. His brows drew together as he spotted one. He tugged the book out, brushed some dust from the cover and flipped it open, turning to her. "Where did you…" he trailed off, realizing the truth. "He sent it to you, didn't he?"
She glanced at him and nodded slightly. "For my two hundredth birthday."
"I have scoured the library for this. It was my favorite when I was young." Legolas found one of the pictures he remembered best and traced the dragon lightly with a fingertip. Every scale was drawn in, the illumination one of the finest he recalled. He closed the book and set it back on the shelf. "I suppose this explains the necklace he had made a few years back."
Nenya smiled slightly. "The third bit of jewelry he sent me. Apparently she-elves in the palace find use for such." She lifted a brow.
"They tend to wear them."
"Why?"
"To…" he frowned, shrugged one shoulder as he found he didn't really have an answer. "To look richer, I suppose. Or because they think the jewels are pretty."
"The pieces he sent me are exquisite, but I have no reason to wear them."
"Yet you speak of them as if you have them."
"Of course I have them," she agreed softly, glancing at him over her shoulder. "Why would I destroy or throw away something beautiful?"
"Good question," he murmured. "So answer me this. Why do you refuse my friendship?"
"Because you would not offer it if you knew everything."
"Does my father?"
Her eyes dropped, and she frowned slightly. "I believe he does, yes."
"Yet he not only befriends you but sends you things for your major birthdays. Why do you believe that which does not deter my father would deter me?"
Her eyes flashed to his before she pushed herself out of the chair and onto her feet, leaving the book there as she began to leave the flet. When he caught her arm to prevent her escape she whirled on him, her eyes darkening while still glittering, anger flaming coldly at him. "You would not have the strength to hear the whole story before you judged. You would believe the half-truths told by people who only know a small part of the tale, jumping to the conclusion they are right without pausing to hear the truth from me."
"Like when I found out the wolves were our silent guardians? I was very upset by that. So upset I refused to even consider staying in the woods a moment longer than necessary, and planned a hunting party to exterminate them all!" He snarled the words at her, his fingers digging into her arm.
Her obsidian eyes chilled farther in her anger, narrowed against him. "Kudos to you, dear prince, for choosing a pack of wolves over a pack of men who would have killed your friends—and you—if given a chance. Release me," she hissed, the tone chilling him to the bone.
His anger frozen with the rest, he realized the bruising grip he was keeping and removed his hand from her arm as if stung. She stalked away from him, disappearing through one of the branches from the flet.
Closing his eyes in exasperation, he got a handle on his once again rising anger, leaving the flet to walk in the trees for a while. There were several paths perfect for such, and he could easily imagine Nenya using them often. She seemed most comfortable in the trees.
Or with the wolves.
Her words rang in his ears, and by the time he wound his way back to the big flet for the evening meal logic had reseated itself firmly in his mind. She insisted, time and again in one way or another, that no elf would wish to be her friend if they knew the truth. Well, he knew she had lived out here throughout her life, knew she cared little for status symbols the elves he was used to dealing with enjoyed flaunting, and he knew she had a great love within her for the animals she called friends. But they were animals. He wouldn't take it to a human level and say they were just animals, but they were not elves.
Every elf should have elves as friends sometime in their life. Without friends their eyes would eventually dim for good, having no reason to continue living. How would she survive when she had to pass into the havens?
She said her mother went to the undying lands, though, so she would be all right.
Still, that would be many years ahead.
With a sigh, Legolas gave up his circular thoughts and stepped into the flet, joining his friends for the meal. Oleydya stretched her neck nearly out of place as she strained to see Nenya, expecting her to be behind him.
"Where is she? It's almost time for tales," she murmured when Nenya didn't appear.
Tales. Legolas blinked. Tales? What tale could she possibly have to tell that she viewed so repulsive that it would keep any elves from wishing her as a friend? He could think of nothing that would lower any elf to such a liminal state as she claimed for herself. Well, befriending orcs or some such would do it, but the elf in question wouldn't be an elf for long. Evil cannot reside in an elf indefinitely. It is destroyed, either by killing whatever good remains and so the elf, or by another elf killing the traitor to his kind. Elves of darkness are not tolerated. Elves and darkness are never spoken of in the same being, for once the relationship is established, deadly measures are always taken to prevent it.
Nenya never came down to hear their tales that evening, leaving Legolas without her presence to help alleviate his confusion… not that her presence usually helped.