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Legolas closed his eyes tightly and tried to stop the tears that gathered in his eyes. His heart was breaking from leaving Estel and he was terrified that Lenwe would hurt the boy while he was away. Legolas wanted nothing more than to turn back, gallop up to Estel, jump off his horse and throw him into his arms. Yet he was banished...and not allowed into the peaceful realm of Imladris.
Legolas and his escort rode for a week, and Legolas barely said anything. He was restless would often have nightmares when they stopped to rest. His company was worried, but they didn't question the distraught Prince.
On the third night, Legolas woke with a start. His heart was aching and sweat poured off of his figure. A cold fear gripped him and he struggled not to scream. He weakly felt Estel's presence in his mind, a fact that puzzled him. The only couples he knew of that felt each other in their minds were deeply in love and had physically bonded. The feeling quickly left, and Legolas unwillingly feel into a restless, troubled sleep.
Estel had been lying in bed, staring out his window. It had been four days since Legolas left, and he had never felt so alone. The moonlight softly illuminated his pale face, making him look like a vision.
Since the prince left, he had thought of going after him, but his fears had stepped in. What if Lenwe followed? What if the Mirkwood sentries wouldn't allow him to pass?
Moments later the door clicked, and Estel jumped. He tried not to panic as Lenwe's sneering face peeked around the doorway. The tutor was dressed in nothing but a thin nightshirt that left nothing to the imagination. He turned and shut the door before locking it. He walked over to Estel and tightly gripped the boy's chin.
"You thought you could get away from me, didn't you?" Lenwe asked softly, and his voice was full of venom. "That your whore of a prince would rescue you from me? That he would ease your pain? You thought that someone actually...loved you?"
Estel tried to keep the tears at bay, but he failed. He started to shake and tried not to listen to Lenwe's cruel lies.
Lenwe swiftly began undoing Estel's nightshirt, all the while saying, "Oh, I have missed your soft body, little one," he ripped the shirt off of Estel's torso and purred in appreciation.
"Stop," Estel whispered so softly that even Lenwe struggled to hear.
"What?" Lenwe asked, his voice dangerous.
Estel saw the poison in Lenwe's eyes and thought of Legolas. The thought strengthened him, and he said louder, "Stop!"
Lenwe slapped him fully across the face. "How dare you speak to me in such a way?" The teal eyes were dark with a combination of anger and lust. He scooted closer to Estel.
Estel brought a hand to his cheek, but stepped off of the bed and away from Lenwe.
"I've had enough of this, Lenwe. You are no better than me and you have no way to treat me in this way." Estel's voice shook weakly as he spoke, but the tremor left as he finished the sentence.
A low chuckle came from the tutor's full lips. "Sweet, isn't it, lovely one, how people can plant lies so cunningly in our heads? You know that the only thing that you are good for is your body. You have no extraordinary talent, though your beauty," Lenwe paused to run a finger down Estel's jaw line, "is exceptionally rare." Lenwe ran his tongue over his lips and leaned in to capture Estel's lips with his own.
Estel ripped his head away and surprised himself and Lenwe by forcefully shoving the tutor to the floor. Lenwe hissed and jumped up, trying to get a hold on Estel, but was silenced by a sharp, slicing pain on his cheekbone.
He brought up a hand to it, and saw blood coloring his fingers. Estel's eyes were wild and frightened, and in his hand he clutched a long, white knife. The same knife Legolas had cut him with the day he found out his secret.
Estel spoke once the shock wore down. "You will no longer run your reign of terror on me, Lenwe. I am stronger than that."
Lenwe seemed too surprised to argue. "It is not over, my little one," he whispered, and flounced out of the room, holding a hand to his bleeding cheek.
Estel was shaking, and he glanced down at Legolas' one knife. He had left it here for his protection, and it now had a thin glaze of blood over it. It had saved him from a painful night, and he thanked the Valar for giving him Legolas' love.
It didn't take long for Estel to decide what actions to take. Forgetting all of his fears and reserves, he grabbed a bag and packed a couple of sets of clothe, a comb, and a wrapped bar of soap. He dressed quickly in light riding clothes and strapped on his belt with the small pouch that held flint. Estel sheathed Legolas' knife and attached it to his belt.
Estel took a final look around the room and braced himself. He slipped out of his chambers and stalked down the corridors quiet as a cat, only stopping if he heard something. His heart was pounding; he half expected to see Lenwe around a corner. Finally he was down at the kitchens. The fresh smell of bread and ripe fruit filled his nose and calmed him slightly. He went over to the cabinet of necessities and loaded his bag with a few packs of lembas, a leather flask of water, and dried meats. He left the kitchen and walked down the hallway softly, and when he was out in the moonlit gardens he smiled. His mind wandered back to the time when he and Legolas together had walked these paths.
The night was still and cool for the summer. Estel headed for the stables, and smiled when he saw Alfirin's dark, soft eyes staring at him.
He stepped into the stall and stroked the velvety muzzle of the chestnut mare. He murmured softly to her as he slipped on her bridle and simple saddle. He tied his pack to the saddle and threw in a little bag of oats and a small bundle of hay. He hoped to find a filed where Alfirin could graze so he would have to burden her with his weight and more food.
The young man clucked to Alfirin softly and she trotted out of the stable. He took one last look at his home, and nudged Alfirin into a canter. She moved into a smooth gallop and they were off into the dark wooded path.
Estel trusted Alfirin to guide him though the darkness of the night and relaxed into her stride. He freed the reins a bit and pulled his cloak around him tighter as the chilly wind whipped against his face.
He rode until the edges of the sky turned a dull gray. When Alfirin slowed to a walk, he stopped to make a small fire and eat quickly. He rubbed down Alfirin with rags he had brought with him and fed her. He let his weary horse rest for a while as he ate a bite or two of lembas. Minutes later Estel and Alfirin were off at a brisk trot for the rest of the day. It was warm but clear and a good day to ride. Estel didn't stop for more than a half an hour at a time; he was desperate to reach Legolas and he knew that it usually took an escort a more than a week to reach Mirkwood from Imladris. He figured if he kept up at this pace he would arrive in four or five days.
Legolas arrived in Mirkwood a little over a week since he departed from Imladris dirty and weary. He greeted the sentries and rode through the main gates, breathing in the sent of his home.
Talans were set high up in the trees, but not many were in use because of the spiders and darkness that lurked in the forest. Thranduil's caves were now occupied most often, and the King tried to make it as comfortable as possible for the remaining residents.
Legolas dismounted from his horse and asked one of his guards to take her to the stables to care for her. He had to meet his father.
As he predicted, Thranduil was in the library, poring over an old novel. The king had always been a lover of words and literature, a fact that seldom knew. Many saw him as the warrior of the Battle of the Last Alliance and never focused on him as the loving father and poetic soul. They mostly saw the cunning and cleverness in the deep eyes and the fierce temper that was legendary of him.
Thranduil turned around before his son even entered the large, luxurious library. His deep green eyes filled with pleasure and surprise at seeing the young prince. He closed the book after marking his page with a dried leaf and stood up slowly. He smiled as he saw Legolas, but the look of happiness turned to one of concern. Legolas' face was not full of peace as it usually was; instead there was fear, regret and weariness. Traces of anger lingered on the fair features. Thranduil sensed his son's turmoil and opened his arms wide and whispered, "Come here, my son."
Legolas didn't need to be told twice and fell into his father's arms, holding back tears. He clawed at the soft velvet of his father's emerald tunic and breathed in the familiar spicy scent of pine and cloves that was trademark of the king.
After some time Thranduil pulled away and studied his son. "Why are you home so early, Greenleaf? What happened in Imladris?"
"Ada, I am still asking myself that. All I know is that I fell in love, and the one I love is in danger. By false accusations I was banished from Imladris and I am not to return for some time."
"Banished? Why did Elrond banish you?" Thranduil asked furiously, and comfortingly stroked Legolas' hair. His son had always been rather sensible, even if he did inherit his temper. The fact that his son would do something so badly to get him banished from a realm was extremely unlikely.
"I was wrongly accused of a horrid crime that we can barely comprehend. To make matters worse, they -meaning Elrond and his...tutor- think I brought this upon the one who I lost my heart to." Legolas' voice was full of bitterness and he fought the urge to scream his pain.
The elder Elf nodded. "I see. Who did you lose your heart to?" Thranduil had long ago let his prejudices against the Noldor go, but he still wanted to know who held his son's heart.
"I...he is of the Peredhil family, Ada...his name is Estel, and he is Elrond's foster son. I am led to believe that his mother and father died when he was young, and despite that fact that he is mortal, he grew up in Imladris. He is the most tenderhearted being I have ever met, but his soul had been broken and scarred by the actions that I am accused of. He has been abused physically, mentally, and...sexually, by the person that his foster father trusts most," Legolas said softly. His heart ached to be near the young man. The prince waited anxiously for his father's reaction.
Thranduil's face showed surprise and nothing more. The king was mildly shocked to here that a male had caught his son's fancy. Legolas hadn't allowed anyone to court him despite his many suitors. He declined all of their proposals, as he was determined to make his realm safer before he settled down to enjoy love.
Thranduil had always felt guilty about this. He had always stressed the safety of Mirkwood, and he knew that Legolas took his words seriously. When he looked into the eyes of Legolas, he saw the wise look of an experienced Elf, and not one of a young, spirited one. The thought had always saddened him.
The fact that this Estel was mortal also pricked Thranduil's heart with sorrow. He knew that if Legolas did truly love Estel, he would be left alone once Estel died.
"What is the tutor's name?" Thranduil asked, as he wasn't quite ready to discuss Estel at this point.
"He goes by the name of Lenwe. He's tall with dark red hair, with icy teal eyes-" Legolas was caught off by Thranduil's interruption.
"Lenwe?! That name is familiar, and the description fits the fellow perfectly. I believe he fought in the Last Alliance under Ereinion's command. He served as a spy, I think, but was too cowardly to carry out his job and sneaked off during the middle of the night. I always found him striking to look at, but I knew his heart was cold as stone."
Legolas could scarcely believe it. Lenwe? A spy? But he was a scholar! Yet Lenwe's past was no interest of his now. With a sigh, he stepped toward the door. "I'm glad to be home, Ada, but my heart is aching. Would it be alright for me to rest and be excused from dinner?"
Thranduil nodded. "Of course, my son. Sleep well."
With that, Legolas left the library and headed for his chambers. The light green color of the fabric pinned to the stone walls had always soothed him before, but failed to do so now. He collapsed on his bed and fell asleep before he hit the mattress. His slumber was filled with dreams of Estel.
Estel eyed the clouds worriedly. The sky was darkening and Alfirin seemed anxious.
They had ridden for 6 days; they were close to Mirkwood, Estel was sure of it. He had followed the many hoof prints that he assumed belonged to Legolas' escort, and despite the fact that both he and his horse were tired, Estel kept riding. It was late afternoon; the perfect time for a summer thunderstorm.
Estel felt his heart sink as a soft rain began to fall. Thunder began to boom and lightning lit the dark sky. Alfirin didn't spook, and Estel patted her neck.
The trouble was, he himself was frightened. The storm was strengthening and the rain turned into a continuous downpour. This was becoming more and more dangerous by the minute.
Estel tried to urge Alfirin forward, but she refused to move. "Please, Alfirin, don't despair! You are strong enough to do this, please, for me!" he shouted of the roaring trees. The mare began to trot slowly, and to Estel's relief, an elaborate set of gates marked the path ahead.
Unfortunately, so did a small group of eight sentries.
They were all fair haired and dry; the trees over head had been weaved as a protection from the rain. The tallest one strode forward and observed Estel with a critical eye.
"Who are you and what is your purpose in Mirkwood?" he asked, his green eyes suspicious. It had been a long time since one of the race of Men had been seen in the Elven realm and his curiosity was piqued.
"I am Estel, foster son of Lord Elrond of Imladris, here to seek Prince Legolas out. I assume he just arrived a day or two ago?" Estel shouted over the storm. He was tired and wet and wished that the sentries would guide him toward Legolas so he could fall into his love's embrace.
"Aye, he did, but why would you want to seek out our prince? He was banished from Imladris," the elf said. The name of Estel had been on the tongues of the guards and sentries the last couple days; the rumor was that he had to do with the banishment of Legolas.
Estel bowed his head. "That is what I must speak with him about," he lied. "There was a misunderstanding and Lord Elrond sent me to make amends."
The tall sentry nodded and considered this information. He spoke to the other sentries, and they broke away from their close knit circle they had formed.
The sentries, after agreeing there was no threat from Estel, let him in. They pointed him to the caves and offered to take Alfirin to the stables. He gladly accepted and ran through the storm to the caves.
To his surprise, the caverns weren't dark or damp. Many candles lit what he supposed was the entrance hall, and colored fabrics and tapestries decorated the walls.
He was vaguely aware that he was dripping on the floor, but he didn't care. He wandered the halls, hoping to find his way to Legolas.
He came to a room where he heard hushed voices coming from. He heard a deep, smooth voice full of good humor and a lilting, melodic one.
Melodic like Legolas'...
Without thinking, Estel knocked. When he heard the deeper voice call, 'Enter', he entered and nearly melted on the spot.
Legolas was standing there speaking with a slightly taller elf with the same golden hair but with bright emerald eyes. Legolas looked as beautiful and peaceful as ever, except his face had traces of regret and worry over it.
When Legolas fully registered the sight of Estel dripping and muddy, a joy spread over his fair features. He opened his arms, and Estel ran into them with a choked sob. Tears fell out of both of their eyes as they embraced tightly yet tenderly. Legolas whispered soothing words of his love and he stroked Estel's back. He glanced at his father, whose eyes were remarkably soft and gentle. A smile had formed on the handsome features are he watched his son and his love.
Legolas ignored the wetness seeping through his clothes as he held Estel tightly. He was where he belonged; in Estel's arms.
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