Chapter 2

A few days later.

King Thranduil looked at the letter in his hands with disgust. Elrond of Rivendell had agreed to come, but he would also bring his three sons. This meant that he would bring his mortal foster son, Estel, Thranduil knew of Estel's history, and the elven king was less than happy of having this particular human in Eryn Lasgalen. Thranduil was not fond of humans generally, he had seen too much of their weaknesses, especially in the War of the Last Alliance, to ever trust a human again.

For that matter, he also did not trust Elrond, or his reasons for bringing the human. The king thought that he would have to find a way to keep the mortal out of mischief and constantly observed. He was less worried about Elrond's twin sons, he knew of their hate of orcs and it would be relatively easy to organise an orc-hunting party to get the twins out of the way. But if he remembered rightly, Elrond's foster son was not yet old enough for such activities, not even by mortal standards.

Finally the king decided that there was only one way how the mortal could be kept out of the way and under control at the same time. He would ask Legolas to occupy the human, without giving him any important information.

-o-o-o-

For Legolas, the last few days had been miserable. After the archery competition and his unintentional intrusion on Rainan's privacy, Legolas had found it difficult to be left alone. A group of the younger elves, led by Rainan, seemed to have made it their goal to observe his every move and to appear every time no other witnesses were around. At first, Legolas perceived their constant presence as a nuisance, but after a while he began to feel uncomfortable.

Whatever he did, several of the group were always around him, silently standing nearby, watching. Legolas could have opted for simply performing duties inside the palace, but the young prince was no coward, and was too proud to permit others to dictate his movements.

On the third day, when he was going to the stables to get his horse for a ride, he asked Rainan outright what he wanted of him.

With a smirk that made Legolas shudder inwardly, the other elf replied: "You disturbed our evening's enjoyment, and then you found yourself to be to good to take part. You owe us."

At these words, Legolas felt distinctly uneasy. "Just leave me alone. I have done you no harm."

"But you have ... you have spoiled some fun for us." At first glance, Rainan was an attractive elf, slim and tall, with the dark hair and eyes typical of the wood elves, and pale, flawless skin. But his smile was unpleasant and his eyes cold. Two of his friends had also arrived. The three elves were standing very close to Legolas, who instinctively took a step backwards. He only noticed belatedly that this step backed him against the stable wall, with no easy way to withdraw from the situation.

Rainan stretched out his hand and touched Legolas' face. The younger elf moved away.

"I told you yesterday that I do not wish to be touched by you." Legolas' dark blue eyes stared at the other elf defiantly.

Rainan grinned again, and moved even closer. "You are even more beautiful when you are angry, my prince."

Now seriously annoyed, Legolas tried to push past the three elves. "Just let me go, this has gone quite far enough." But the young prince did not get away. After a couple of steps, he felt arms around his waist. He turned quickly, trying to free himself of the unwanted embrace. But Rainan was somewhat taller and broader in built, and simply pinned him against the wall. At that point, Legolas began to get worried; this situation was rapidly getting out of control. He began to struggle in earnest, hitting and kicking at the other elf.

But he found to his horror that his arms and legs were held quickly by Rainan's companions, who leaned against his body to hold Legolas still. Then the other elf began to kiss Legolas. There was no affection in the gesture, for Legolas there was no joy and love in the experience, but only a feeling of violation. He turned his head as far to the side as he could and closed his eyes and mouth, to avoid as much of the distasteful contact as possible. He then felt hands wandering down his body, and ultimately, settle between his legs, squeezing and groping were no-one had ever touched before. This brought tears of shame to his eyes, but he managed not to let them fall. The young prince renewed his struggles to escape his captors.

Suddenly there was a stern voice. "What is going on here?" By chance, one of the novice instructors, Galadhir, had arrived to retrieve his own horse for an errand. The older warrior had taken in the scene in an instant.

"Rainan, what is the meaning of this? Why did you hold Prince Legolas in this position?" There was a large frown on the instructor's face. He was an older elf, and had seen much in his long life. Even though he had only just arrived, and had not seen everything that had happened here, he had a pretty good idea of the nature of the incident.

"Rainan, Darien and Melarion, I will deal with you later. Return to your quarters and remain there." Galadhir's voice was stern.

The three novices left quietly. Legolas was still leaning against the wall. Galadhir turned his attention to the young prince. There was pity in his eyes as he said: "Are you injured, Prince Legolas?" The younger elf shook his head. No, he was uninjured, although his arms, legs and back were bruised and hurt from being held against the wall, and he was sore between the legs. He leaned carefully forward, not trusting his legs to hold him. The older warrior reached out to steady him, but Legolas backed away from the contact. He could not bear to be touched at the moment.

Legolas still felt weak from his ordeal and just wished that Galadhir would go away. He was grateful for the elder elf's interference but he felt also deeply ashamed because the older warrior had witnessed his humiliation. He could not bring himself to open his eyes and look at the instructor. If he had done so, he would have noticed that Galadhir was regarding him not with contempt, but with pity.

-o-o-o-

Galadhir looked at Legolas for a long time. He had not much seen of the young prince. Galadhir spent much of his time instructing novices and training older warriors. He was one of the best archers in Mirkwood, and was also often asked to go out to longer or more demanding patrols. Since Legolas' training had been conducted at court, by others, he had only rarely seen the young prince. The instructor mentally appraised the young prince in front of him in a few moments, centuries of experience helping him with this quick mental exercise. He did not know how much in the way of warrior training this youngster had received, probably not all that much since he also had to learn the inticacies of running a nation and a court.

Galadhir knew that Legolas was an outstanding archer, despite his youth and upbringing at court. The young blond elf in front of him was slender, and probably not quite fully grown. As with all races, the age of majority for elves was somewhat arbitrary, and some youngsters achieved full physical maturity before this date, and others later. Legolas fell probably into the second group.

As almost all wood-elves, the young prince had dark eyes, in his case a very dark blue that looked almost black. Dark eyebrows and lashes contrasted with fair skin and blond hair that now, in the summer, had lighter streaks bleached into it by the sun. The youngster was undoubtedly very attractive. From what little Galadhir had seen of Legolas, the prince also had a natural grace rare even amongst their kin. His body build suggested that apart from being an excellent archer, he was also likely to be a good runner and swimmer, but probably less inclined to sword play and hand-to-hand combat.

The young prince was pale, his eyes were closed and he was breathing erratically. At that moment it struck Galadhir forcefully how young the prince was. Normally Legolas did not show any emotions, and the older elf had heard many comments about the beautiful but cold son of Thranduil. At this moment, the youngster looked hurt, confused and very vulnerable. Galadhir fought the temptation to move closer the prince and embrace him for support. He was fairly certain that such a motion would not be welcome.

"I am sorry I did not arrive earlier. I have known for some time that some of the novices were giving you trouble, but usually it does not help when we instructors get involved. Although in this instance I regret I did not act earlier. I will make sure that these three will no longer bother you."

Finally, Legolas opened his eyes, and looked at Galadhir. His voice was low and rough when he said: "Thank you, Galadhir. I...", his voice faltered. With visible effort, the prince straitened his shoulders and looked up. The look of vulnerability disappeared and was replaced with a cold expression. Only the dark eyes still betrayed the flood of emotions washing through the young elf, but quickly even his eyes became guarded.

"I need to return to my father. I will be missed otherwise." Legolas pulled his dishevelled clothing straight, and with a look of determination, turned towards the palace. Only a very observant onlooker would have noticed the slight stiffness of his movements.

Galadhir looked after him, feeling saddened. This youngster did not have an easy life. At his age he should be mostly carefree and enjoy himself. Just a few friends would make a large difference to Legolas' life, since even the support of only one or two others was likely to prevent incidents as the one that had just happened.

-o-o-o-

Estel was stretching his arms and legs lazily in the late afternoon sun. He was lying on his back in one of the beautiful gardens of Imladris, and was more than half asleep. Elrond had spent much time and effort on these gardens, and Estel appreciated the tranquillity of these spaces. Each plant, shrub and flower had been planted to best effect, and yet the overal impression was that of natural beauty.

Estel was tired. He had had a challenging, exciting and overall very enjoyable day. Summer was the time of training and competitions, and the younger elves of Imladris had organised a contest of five warrior arts. This involved comparing skills in five very distinct areas: horseback riding, endurance running, archery, swords practice and close combat. Estel had never competed in a contest before, as a mortal amongst elves he had never seen a chance of success. But this time both Elrond and the twins had encouraged him to participate. Much to his own surprise, he had not been the last in every challenge, as he had anticipated, but had held his own in all five areas. Best of all, he had won one of three prizes in swords practice.

After the competition, there had been a large communal picnic in one of the forest glades just outside of Rivendell. The merry-making had continued, and would continue into the night. Estel was looking forward to the evening, he liked dancing and recently there had always been more willing partners than he had been able to dance with in an evening.

Estel was not quite sure how this had come about, after all he was only a fifteen year old boy, but on several festive occasions this year it had been quite obvious that some of the younger elves, both males and females, were quite taken with him. But something inside him had so far always stopped him from becoming intimate with any of them, there was a small voice inside him that seemed to whisper that some things could and should wait until a special person came along. And so far he had not yet found that person.

Estel smiled to himself. He was in no hurry to take a lover. He was young, even by human standards, and he would simply wait until it all felt right. For now, he would rest here in the garden for a while, and then go to change and join the festivities for the night. With a contented sigh, he leaned back into the grass and closed his eyes.

Please review