Standard Disclaimer: I own none of Tolkien's characters. I own my
original ones. They kick major butt. Lanelese and Clotild are actually
real people, my bestest buddies. And yes, Lanelese is actually like that
in real life. So is Clotild. We mostly just smile and nod a lot at Lane.
Note: Yes, I didn't really go into how Gondor interacted with other Kingdoms and how no one would have noticed Legolas gone. I see it now that you pointed it out, that HUGE gaping hole in the plot. I tried to close it a little, but I still suck. I'm sorry! Mea Culpa! I'll try harder next time!
And no, Legolas is not going to fall in love/forgive his rapist. Yes, that is really what the whole thing is. But he also has to come to terms with his friend. That will be worked out much later.
And Jasta and I both had life come by and hit us in the heads with big, nasty 2x4's with bent, rusty nails in the end, Jasta much worse than I. Life truly sucks. But I'll try and be faster with the next update. That is, if you want an update. The story could end here if you like, but I have more to tell, and there is so much more angst (ie childbirth and more Machiavellian twists and turns in the court). After all, Davyn is still alive, Legs is still caught and preggers and Lanelese is still looking for the perfect pair of shoes.
So you can forgive me for the late update, I wrote a huge volume and didn't leave you on a cliffie but on a quiet note.
Oh, and Meg, please don't damage your manicure on my account. Here you go, honey!
Clotild had clever fingers, Legolas thought to himself. The same fingers that could pick a lock were equally skilled in fine needlework. Legolas shifted in the window seat, pushing the small of his back against the stone wall even harder than before. The pressure helped to lessen the ache there. Or at least it seemed to.
His attention was again drawn to the woman sitting next to him, her hands almost hypnotic in their motions. The seam was small and neat, nearly invisible in the silky cloth. The calluses on her fingers made almost inaudible sounds against the nap of the fabric as she ran her hands across the seam, checking her handiwork.
Lanelese sat on the floor below them, her blonde hair gleaming in the sunlight. In her hands was a heavy leather bound book, spine stamped with gold. Her voice was a pleasant murmur as she read aloud to them both. Lanelese read aloud often, usually to entertain herself. Clotild enjoyed hearing her in the process, and a symbiotic relationship was born. Clotild would often request obscure titles from the library so that she and Legolas could enjoy hearing the sound of Lanelese's voice almost as much as Lanelese herself enjoyed hearing it.
The current selection was an interesting dissertation on the mystical. The sheer volume of information on his own people had been overwhelming, if misguided. This writer at least noted that elves did exist, although they were increasingly rare. The writer had also noted that in several places, his kind were becoming the stuff of legends.
Lanelese was now reading the chapter on Earth Magics. Her tongue occasionally stumbled on some strange or technical word, but overall she was an excellent reader.
"The main characteristic of the earth wizard, or hedge wizard, is the usage of personal energies to accomplish his goals. The hedge wizard is unable to use any energy except his own to do his workings, and he is also unable to accumulate or store energies. This makes their abilities extremely limited."
The blonde stopped reading and yawned. At a gentle kick in the back of the head from Clotild, she sighed and turned the page to continue reading.
"The true wizard is much more powerful than the hedge wizard because he is able to draw his strength from other sources to supplement his personal energies. A true wizard is identified by his usage of a familiar. The human body is simply too frail to hold a large amount of energy for an extended period of time, and would age and decay at an extended rate. The only exception to this rule is the Istari, who despite their appearances, are not human.
"The main strength and weakness of a true wizard is his familiar. His familiar can help direct his strength as well as store his energies. However, if a familiar is injured or destroyed, the wizard is weakened or even killed." Lanelese sighed again. "Could you not choose anything more boring from the library, Clotild? Why couldn't you be like all the other girls and choose bodice rippers or romances?"
Clotild swung her foot back, but then paused in thought. "Because you never know when you might need to know how to kill a wizard." She turned and looked at Legolas with a knowing look. "Do you not agree, My Lady?"
Legolas raised stunned eyes to Clotild as his memory returned to Davyn's workshop. ::I know his weakness. It was in my hand. I know how to win.:: His thoughts ran like quicksilver. "I absolutely agree. You never know. Please continue, Lanelese. I find the subject… fascinating."
At the young blonde's pained sigh Clotild swung her foot forward again and Legolas found himself laughing for the first time he could remember.
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It was a glorious morning for a wedding. The day dawned clear and bright, with no sign of clouds on the horizon. The day boded well for Valda and Arnlaug.
The sun crept through the window of the queen's chambers to find Legolas crouched over a parchment with Clotild and Lanelese. The pen in his fingers scratched frantically against the vellum as he drew the picture of what they were to obtain, and what they were to do with it. The discovery that he could show instead of tell had been a huge victory in his eyes. The wizard was careless in his arrogance for the more he pondered Davyn's spells, the more flaws he found in them.
As one, the girls nodded and looked back to him. He rolled up the parchment and shoved it under the bed, and then smoothly rose to his feet to stand before the mirror. Touching the image of himself, fingertip to fingertip he spoke softly without turning to the maids. "What do you see in this mirror?"
The maids looked at each other for a moment and then Lanelese stepped forward and looked into the mirror. "What do YOU see?" She asked back, voice soft and barely audible.
"I see myself. Only myself." His hands slowly slid off the glass, and then to cover his swollen stomach. "Do you think that a slave that is born to slavery knows that he lacks freedom? Do you think he knows that he should be unhappy? Or would he just learn to adapt and be happy with what little he is given, never knowing that there was something better?"
Clotild shot a questioning look to Lanelese, and the blonde narrowed her eyes. "I know not what you refer to, Lady. Your son will not be a slave, but heir to the throne of Gondor."
Legolas turned his head slightly and looked at the maid in the mirror. "If you had to choose between two things, both of which were so vile and repugnant that they both sickened you, how would you decide?" The girl wrinkled her forehead in confusion at the subject change, but Legolas did not see it as his attention shifted back to his reflection.
"I would choose the thing that was the lesser evil, I suppose. But how do you know the two things are the only choices? Is there no other option?" Lanelese's voice reflected her puzzlement, but Legolas merely nodded.
"The options are at best limited. I will simply make the choice when the time comes." He frowned at his reflection and then turned to get dressed.
The dress that Clotild brought forward was in shades of moss green with a silvery blue underdress that displayed richly embroidered sleeves and bodice. The fabric was soft and light, but still clung to the curves of his body. It emphasized the swell of his stomach by the way that it clung and then fell to his feet. From the back, it hugged the indentation of his waist, and then the swell of his hips and then fell in lush folds to the floor. The low neckline showed the collar and gem at his throat, and also the rise of firm breasts
Clotild smoothed the fabric down and then gently pushed Legolas to sit so that Lanelese could dress his hair.
Lanelese pulled small pieces of hair and began to make small individual braids, and then began to interweave the braids so that they formed a large diamond pattern on the fall of his hair. Into each junction she braided in a small gem, either a sapphire, emerald, or diamond. She ended this pattern at his waist, and then blended the loose ends of the braids back into the golden locks.
The door to the King's chamber opened silently and Aragorn walked into the room. His overtunic was of a dark blue material with a burgundy undertunic peeking out underneath. The torc was now clearly displayed, resting on top of his tunic, both touching and not touching his skin. His leggings were of a slate grey, almost matching his eyes. His soft boots made a slight scuffing sound as he walked across the room, and then stopped to stand before Legolas.
Lanelese curtseyed fearfully and scurried into the far corner of the room, her blue eyes still filled with the terrifying memory of her last encounter with him. He did not notice this however. His eyes rested on the elf in front of him. With a slight smile, the king extended his hand to the elf. "Stand so that I may see you more clearly."
Legolas regarded the hand in front of him as he would a snake, and then gingerly placed his own in it. He stood smoothly and then walked a few steps forward.
The king released the slender hand and then walked full circle around Legolas, inspecting his possession. After a moment he smiled, well pleased. "You are lovely beyond words, Legolas." He then leaned in to kiss the elf on the lips.
Legolas turned his head and the kiss landed on his cheek instead.
Aragorn's face darkened, his expression perturbed. With fingers of steel, he caught the small chin and turned Legolas back to face him again. He then moved his lips next to a delicately pointed ear and breathed a barely audible whisper. "You will behave today of all days." The voice was stern, giving no quarter. "If you do not, I suspect I will have to make good on my threat to have yon pretty one beaten. And this time I will not relent."
All the elf could do was nod, and then accept the kiss that was forced upon his lips. ::I pray this works today. This will be my last chance. Valar help me.::
The king none to gently grabbed his arm and then began to escort him to the door. The elf looked over his shoulder and looked at the maids with large eyes, imploring them silently. As one they nodded and smiled encouragement. He turned his attention forward, knowing he would have to have faith in them.
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The last time Legolas had seen the great hall was in the winter during his own sad wedding. Now the great hall was done up in great masses of flowers and greenery. The bride was a noble woman, a ward of the king since her husband had died, and the groom was the chancellor of Gondor, second only to the king in importance. Even though this would be a second marriage for them both, it would be handsomely celebrated.
The smell of flowers was sweet and pungent, but not overwhelming. A breeze flowed through from the open great windows. It kept the room from being stifling.
The king paused at the entrance to the great hall, waiting for every eye to turn to him. "They wish to see you, not I." He looked sideways at the elf. "Few have seen you since we were wed, little one. They wish to see the evidence of my devotion to you." The king patted Legolas' swollen stomach and smiled.
Before Legolas could react to this he was being dragged into the hall. Every eye in the room fell upon him as last time. This time however he held his head high and met the gazes that fell upon him. The faces that he saw were openly happy, smiling. There was laughter and joy in this room, whereas the last time he had been here there had only been his overwhelming sorrow and fear.
They moved slowly up the room, people parting for them with some reluctance. Suddenly a young woman accosted him from the side. Her hands reached forward in supplication and she fell to her knees in front of Legolas. "Please, Majesty. Let me touch you so that I may share in some of your magic. I cannot conceive and my husband will put me away if I cannot bear him children. Please, Lady. Let me touch you." Her hands plucked at the hem of the gown like a nervous bird and Legolas took a step backwards, confusion written in his movements and expression.
Aragorn moved forward, almost too swift for the eye to see. His hand was raised to summon the guards to carry the woman away, but then Legolas moved as well. He caught the hand before he could complete the signal, and then pushed it down. With a look of silent reproach, Legolas then turned back to the woman and sank to his knees as well. He took her hands in his own and then pressed them firmly to his stomach. "I don't know if this will help you or not, but I will share what I have with you willingly."
The woman sobbed in elation and then met the elf's eyes. Human eyes widened with joy and then filled with tears. "Thank you, Lady. I will never forget this, and I will tell my children and their children of this moment. Thank you."
She bowed her head and lifted the hem of his gown to her lips. Then she quickly disappeared into the crowd, immediately lost from sight.
After a moment, Aragorn's hand appeared in front of Legolas' face again, and he gripped it so that he could stand and continue walking. As they walked slowly together, he could feel the light brush of fingertips as the people lightly touched his hair and gown as he moved past them. He looked into the faces in the crowd and saw approval and affection and smiled despite himself.
They reached the councilors gathered at the head of the aisle, and then walked beyond to a pair of thrones set upon a low dais, one slightly shorter than the other. With a gentle push, Aragorn indicated that Legolas should sit while the king went and spoke with his council.
The room was swirling with color and sound, Legolas reflected as he watched the crowd. The barons and lords were there, along with their families. The common servants of the castle had crowded into the back, all eager to catch a glimpse of the pageantry of nobility. His eyes moved over the crowd unseeing, as his fingers toyed with an imperfection of the wood on the arm of the throne.
After a second his eyes jumped back to a shining face hidden in the back of the crowd. There he saw an elf with dark hair, his face glowing in the shadows of the back of the hall. He wore the livery of Ithilien. ::A messenger?::
Elven eyes met elven eyes across the room, and Legolas felt his heart skip a beat as the messenger studied him intently. He dared to feel hope for a second that perhaps his people knew he was here and had come to help him, but then was shattered when the elf bowed his dark head in respect, turned and left. It took everything Legolas possessed not to stand and give chase. ::No! He did not recognize me. How could he not recognize me?::
Davyn turned from where he stood with the king and the rest of the council and saw the desolate look on Legolas' face. He bowed to the king and moved to stand next to the throne and bowed again, this time with a mocking smile on his lips. "Does my Lady find something amiss?"
Legolas shifted his attention to the mage and found his eyes narrowing in ill concealed hatred. Davyn saw this and only smiled wider. Turning his eyes back to the door, Legolas said quietly, "I saw someone from Ithilien."
Davyn nodded. "Yes. A courier." The mage tilted his head and studied the elf closely. "You write often, you know." At Legolas' furrowed brow he continued. "All your correspondence has continued while you've been here. You write to your people in Ithilien, and to your dwarf friend in the Glittering Caves. We found it much simpler to keep up the appearance of the prince being here occasionally than to have him disappear entirely. Your reputation of wandering off for months at a time for some adventure or hunting trip makes the illusion much easier to maintain. The prince simply is never here when someone asks."
Legolas bowed his head, hiding his fury from the mage. ::I must be defeated in his eyes. He must suspect nothing. I must not think of what is to come lest he see it in my eyes.::
Schooling his expression, he looked up again. "And what is the news from my people?"
With an eyebrow raised in surprise at the lack of reaction, the mage answered, "More of your people have left these shores. A few linger, but I think they will be departing soon. There is not much left to hold them here. The Age of Men is upon us all. Even your friend Gimli feels that. His letters say that his people are decreasing in number, although not to the extent that yours are."
An expression of hurt briefly flashed across the fair face, an expression that was noted by those of the people watching the exchange. They could see Davyn's smile at the pain of their queen, and they were not pleased.
Legolas' reply was cut short by the arrival of Aragorn. With a bow, Davyn returned to his place with the council, and Aragorn sat upon his throne. It was time.
Valda walked through the great doors and Legolas gasped. He had never her seen her before in anything but widow's weeds and dark colors, but now she shone.
Her gown was of a bright yellow, and gold and gems gleamed at her fingers and throat. Her hair which had always been upswept and modestly hidden now flowed freely down her back, almost to her knees. It was the richest chestnut, and decorated with wildflowers. The silver strands shone in the sun, merely adding to her beauty.
But the most amazing change was her face. Her eyes glittered with joy, her face was flushed with excitement and her smile showed her bliss.
Legolas glanced to Arnlaug, standing with the council. His face as he beheld his bride was heartbreaking. If there had been any doubt in anyone's mind that the two were deeply in love, the looks on their faces would have dispelled them instantly. It was the total opposite of the last time he had been in this hall.
As Valda stood next to Arlaug and the wedding contract was presented Legolas found his gaze drawn to Davyn and then up to the window to check the position of the sun. ::Soon. Please let it be soon. Please, let them be successful:: He had not told them what he intended to do if they were not.
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The corridors were empty. For this small blessing, Clotild sent many thanks winging their way up to whatever deity might be watching over them. The metal handle of the bucket cut into her hands, and the weight of the roll of silk cloth didn't make the burden any lighter.
With a silent sigh, she wondered again how she ended up with this part of the job. ::Because Lanelese can seduce any man alive, that's why:: She rolled her eyes and then peeked around the corner to see what progress her fair partner had made with the guard.
The mage had installed a guard in the hallway near his rooms after Legolas' last adventure. They had hoped that during the past uneventful months that security would have been relaxed, but the guard still stood. Fortunately, it was a guard known to Lanelese and her considerable charms. Unfortunately, he also had a sense of duty that had to be dealt with as well.
The guard's broad back was to Clotild as she looked around the corner and caught Lanelese's eye. She gestured to the blonde to hurry up. The blonde smiled widely, strain showing in her lips as she widened her eyes and jerked her head for Clotild to duck back behind the corner.
"Bryn", she continued. "Surely no one will come this way. Everyone is at the wedding. Please walk with me in the gardens. Surely you will find a flower there of such rarity and beauty that you will wish to possess it." She could hear Clotild's choked guffaw, and laughed loudly to cover the noise.
The guard raised an eyebrow and smiled down at the little woman. She was lovely as usual, but acting strangely today. "Lanelese, I've tried to possess that rarest of blooms many times, but it keeps pushing me away when I would pluck it. I will not leave my post for the promise of something that is not to be."
The maid pouted, lip trembling. "Bryn, I'm hurt that you would think such a thing of me. You know that I am a blossom of the highest virtue and purity. I would have the one who plucks me be worthy of me, as you are." There was another choked sound from around the corner and Lanelese made a mental note to place scorpions in Clotild's bodice drawer. "Come walk with me and let us decide how to resolve this. I do not like you to feel this way."
The guard leaned down and kissed the top of the maid's head. "Why do we not decide how to resolve it here? There is no one here now, nor will there likely be anyone coming."
Blue eyes wide in panic, Lanelese mentally scrambled. "Because… because.." She faltered and then saved herself, "Because I do not like the halls. They are dark and do not show my charms nearly as well as the light of the sun. I prefer to look my best at such times and that includes proper lighting, Bryn. Come to the gardens. The lighting is PERFECT there for my skin."
Bryn shook his head sadly. "Sorry, little bird. I am on duty now. Perhaps later?"
The maid blinked, stunned. She had been refused. No one refused her. No one. After a moment she smiled again. "Of course, Bryn. I shall await you in the great hall." She spun away, skirt swirling and then played her final card. She tripped upon a small speck of dust on the floor and went flying.
Bryn lunged forward and caught the maid before she hit the ground. "Lanelese! Are you alright?" All he could see were her shoulders shaking as she shook her head. The delay of him trying to help her up gave her the opportunity to conjure up a respectable amount of tears.
"I twisted my ankle, Bryn. It hurts. I feel it swelling even now!" She turned tear filled blue eyes up towards the tall guard, and allowed a single tear to spill down her white cheek. She made as though to stand and then fell against Bryn, into his arms with a small wail of pain. She looked over Bryn's shoulder and saw Clotild watching with a look of complete amazement. It was far from attractive to stick one's tongue out, but it was also satisfying at times, so she did it. Clotild made frantic motions again, pointing out the sun's position in the sky and that time was passing as Lanelse snuggled her face into the guard's strong neck and shoulder. With a sigh, Lanelese continued, "I feel it swelling, Bryn. Can you help me to the garden so I can soak it in the cool waters of the pond? Surely that will help."
The guard looked back and forth. The maid was right. No one would be here, and it was his duty as well to help those in need of aid. It helped that she was young, attractive and possibly willing. With an effortless swoop, he picked up the small body into his arms and began to turn back the way Lanelese had come to take her to the gardens.
"NO!!! NOT THAT WAY!!" Lanelese could shriek like a banshee when she wished. She froze when he stared at her. Then she wrapped her arms around his neck and wriggled herself against him. "Take the longer way, Bryn. I like the feel of you holding me."
With a confused sigh Bryn turned the other way and walked, Lanelese tucked up securely in his arms. Lanelese's smile and hand gesture over the broad shoulder as they left expressed her joy in a job well done and the fruits of her labors.
Clotild counted to fifty and then walked around the corner. She swiftly ran to the heavy wood door and placed the bucket and silk on the floor next to it. The lock quickly fell to her pick again. The mage had not even bothered to change it. She wondered briefly if he had perhaps placed a trap in his rooms instead and decided to be extremely careful.
The key to the workshop had been in the same place, just as Legolas had drawn it and the door had opened easily. She left the key in the lock outside and then walked in.
The workshop was bright and cluttered with many strange things, but the thing she sought was right in the open as expected. She wrapped her hands in the silk and then pulled the thing down to her and wrapped it even more tightly in silk. It then went into the wooden bucket. No part of it would be allowed to touch stone or metal.
It was while she did this that she did not hear the click of the door closing behind her. She did not discover it until she turned to go and found the door locked, with the key still in the other side.
She pursed her lips in annoyance. She could not pick the lock with the key still in the door. It blocked the tumblers. How could she have been so stupid? She turned slowly, surveying the entire room. There was no other way out. She tugged on the door again, but it did not budge. She was trapped.
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The wedding feast progressed and Legolas watched Davyn for some sign that their plan had worked. The mage remained annoyingly healthy. He glanced out the window again. The sun was past its zenith and was descending now. ::Something happened. They have failed. If I am to act, I must do so now while I still have some small amount of freedom.::
He closed his eyes and made his choice. ::I must do this. The Valar will never forgive me, but it will save the young one from a fate worse than death:: His eyes opened and found himself filled with a frightening calm.
Valda glanced down the table and met Legolas' blue eyes as he glanced her way. The elf radiated an aura of serenity that had never been exhibited before. The countess frowned for a moment before turning back to her husband.
Legolas slowly rose from his seat, and then moved back towards the side door towards the garderobe that he had already visited multiple times today without incident. Aragorn glanced up and away, and then back over. The elf stood in the far doorway and met his eyes. With a small smile at his captor Legolas then lifted his skirts and ran.
Aragorn carefully placed his knife on the table, stood slowly and walked casually across the hall to the side door. He turned back and made a gesture at Davyn. As soon as he was out of the sight of the populace, he ran after his queen.
Legolas skidded to a halt in the hallway, looking frantically for the path that he knew he was to take. He knew he only had a few moments leeway before Aragorn would capture him, and the dress slowed him considerably.
He heard the sound of running feet behind him and turned to the first staircase. There. That would take him where he wanted. His feet flew as he climbed the stairs, and entered another gallery. He ran down the straight stretch of hallway and heard Aragorn come to the top of the stairs and run afterwards. "Legolas!", the king bellowed, his anger giving him speed.
Legolas ran harder; his feet barely touched the ground as he flew down the gallery. He came to another flight of stairs going up. The entrance was flanked by two pedestals with statues of some obscure city official from the distant past. It was with little remorse that Legolas knocked them down as he flew past. They had just given their lives for a noble cause. He ran up the stairs, starting to breathe a little hard now.
Aragorn's curses filtered up the stairwell as he tripped and then climbed over the wreckage. Legolas knew that it would only buy him a few seconds, and he was beginning to tire. The child was having more of an effect on him than he realized.
He reached the head of the stairs and there stood an armed guard. The guard seemed as surprised to see Legolas as Legolas was to see him. They stood and regarded each other for a moment while Legolas panted for breath.
Aragorn's feet began to run up the stairs again, and his voice preceded him. "Catch her! Don't hurt her, but catch her!" The guard put aside his sword and then opened his arms as if to grab the small and helpless looking woman in front of him.
He soon discovered that looks are often deceiving as Legolas ducked under his arms, bundled both of his hands into a fist and rose up and swung them into the back of the guard's head as hard as he could. The guard fell off balance and tumbled down the stairs, plowing into Aragorn as he came up the stairs. They both rolled back down, a tangle of arms, legs and curses.
Legolas darted through the doorway and onto the walls of Minas Tirith. His goal was ahead of him, up another long flight of stairs. The tall watchtower that overlooked the city and the lands below loomed ahead of him as he poured on a final burst of speed and then climbed the long stairs to the top.
The tower was round and open on all sides with a waist high wall surrounding it. Crenellations were on top of this, giving both an excellent view of the land around, and also cover against archer fire. After a pause to get his bearings Legolas climbed up to the wall, and then on top of one of the crenellations. He stood there, looking out over the city, and then down. The ground was far below. There would be no surviving that fall, even for one of the firstborn.
He looked up again and narrowed his eyes against the sun. The day was clear and bright and there was no haze. He thought perhaps that dark smudge he could see on the far horizon might be his beloved woods. He put his hands over his stomach. ::I wish it could be another way, young one. But the alternative is so much worse for you.:: Visions of a small golden collar danced behind his lids when he closed his eyes.
He heard footsteps at the head of the stairs and turned to face them.
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Clotild was cursing colorfully beneath her breath. She had spent what seemed to be many hours trying to find a way out of the workroom. She had heard that wizards always had secret passages and escape routes from their dens, but she had been unable to find one. Either she was not looking in the right places or Davyn was too arrogant to have one. Given the amount of time she had spent looking, she thought it was the latter.
She then returned to the door and pondered it. When staring at it failed to cause the lock to quail in fear and open before her fury, she then used her mind.
After searching she had found that Davyn had several large, thin books of what appeared to be spells. She was able to find one large book that would slide under the door when opened. She situated the book below the lock area and pushed it out as far as it could go with her still able to slide it back in.
She then returned to the lock. With one of the daggers she had found on the workbench she slowly pushed the key backwards from the lock until it fell. She closed her eyes and prayed as she did this, hoping that something heard her and would watch over her.
The key fell with a thump, not a clang, and Clotild slid the book carefully back under the door. The key lay on top of the pages and then was in her hands.
She finally opened the door and then grabbed her burden and ran into the hall.
Lanelese waited for her there. "Where have you been? I had to do such things to keep Bryn busy!" The blonde couldn't help but smile for a moment.
"I got delayed." Together the two maids grabbed the handle of the heavy bucket and ran towards the great hall.
But the plans had changed.
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Legolas turned to face as Aragorn as he came to the top of the watchtower, followed closely by Davyn and Arnlaug. The king was panting for breath, his face scraped from his fall down the stairs. Davyn glowered evilly and moved forward, only to be stopped by a hand on the arm from Arnlaug.
"Legolas, come down from there." Aragorn spoke, his voice silky. There was a note of fear behind his voice.
Taking a deliberate step backwards so that his heels rested on the line between stone and air, Legolas shook his head in the negative. The wind blew around him, causing the gown and his hair to whip in the wind. The dress tightened on his stomach, clearly showing the king the pregnancy that was the ultimate goal of his actions.
When Legolas at last spoke, it was one word, softly spoken yet heard by all. "Choose."
Aragorn turned to Davyn and gestured towards the elf on the battlement. "Do something!"
The mage turned to the king. "I can do nothing. Let him go. We will catch another one for you, My Lord. That one we will hold much tighter." The voice was oily in its disregard.
There was a look of total astonishment in Aragorn's eyes as he processed the words of his mage.
He then turned and took a step towards Legolas, hand outstretched. "Come down." His voice was no longer as firm. "I promise I won't be angry. Just come down."
Legolas looked down at the king and shook his head again. Lifting his skirt to show his feet, he lifted one foot and hung it over the edge. "Choose."
Aragorn raised his hands to the torc at his neck and then looked back at the mage. "No, my Leige. Leave it on."
Hand alternately grasping and releasing the torc, Aragorn looked from one to the other, his breath coming in painful gasps. His expressions ranged from pain to anger to fear and back again. Behind him Valda and Gilby had joined Arnlaug.
Legolas smiled serenely down at them and spoke one last time. "Goodbye." He then shifted his weight from the foot on the battlement to the foot over the air and began to fall backwards.
"NO!!! LEGOLAS!" With a wrench, Aragorn ripped the torc from his neck and threw it to the ground, and then leapt up to the wall. He lunged forward and wrapped his arms around the falling elf, catching Legolas by the knees. The force of the falling body nearly yanked the king off his feet and over the wall, but Arnlaug had run up behind him and grabbed his king around the waist.
Valda and Gilby had watched the torc fly through the air and land at their feet. The metal made an almost musical chime when it hit the stonework and then shattered into hundreds of pieces. Each piece gleamed in the sun for a moment and then, as if the sun's light was too hot, melted and ran down between the cracks of the stone tower, gone forever. The countess and the councilor looked at each other and then to Davyn. The mage's face had gone white and then red with fury, eyes burning.
As one, they moved between the mage and their king.
The sudden stop had snapped Legolas' back and head into the wall, and he limply hung there for a few moments as the world spun around him. After a moment, the elf realized that his fall had ended, and in fact was reversing itself as he was pulled back up the wall. The rough stone scraping the back of his legs and back helped bring him back to himself. With frantic energy he began to fight the arms that were pulling him back up until Aragorn's bellow reached down to him. "Stop, you fool. I chose you."
Legolas went limp again, unknown emotions coursing through him as he was pulled back up onto the battlement. He looked to Aragorn's neck and saw that the torc was gone and smiled, but the smile was short lived.
Davyn raised his hands above his head and drew his power to himself. His true face was now revealed, wrinkled and aged and horribly cruel. With a flick of his power he sent Gilby and Valda flying sideways, each heavily hitting the wall and falling to the ground senseless. Another flick sent Arnlaug to lie beside his bride.
The mage closed the distance between the king and the elf slowly, his aura flickering blue around him as he prepared for a final strike. "At last I have my revenge, Aragorn, son of Arathorn. It may not be as sweet as I might have wished, but I will still have it at least." The burning eyes fell on Legolas. "I underestimated you, elf. You were something more than less than nothing. But you have still failed. Prepare to die." Davyn raised his arms and gathered his power to him to strike, this time to kill.
Behind him, unseen as servants often are, came two young women lugging a heavy wooden bucket. As one, they took in the scene before them, upended the bucket carrying a silk wrapped contraption of gold wire and crystals, and then together lifted the bucket over their heads and slammed it down onto one of the crystals. The impact caused the crystal to shatter, releasing a scream as it turned into powder. They raised the bucket again, and shattered another one. And then another.
At the first crystal's death, the aura around Davyn began to flare and grow brighter, and then dim. His face turned from one of anger to agony, and a scream came from between his lips that made those around him cover their ears. He turned and tried to move to where the women were shattering his familiar, but instead fell to his knees in agony as another crystal died. And then to his belly squirming in pain. He keened and howled and the tattoos on his arms writhed angrily, and the animals shown there began to rend and devour one another.
There was only one crystal left and the bucket was raised when Arnlaug's voice rang out. "Hold!" The weary maids froze and then lowered the bucket gently, but still ready to give the death blow to the vile creature before them.
Arnlaug helped Valda to her feet and then walked over to the mage. With a large hand he grabbed the front of the blue robe and pulled the now broken mage to his feet. Davyn's eyes were red with broken blood vessels caused by his screaming, and blood from them ran down his cheeks. With a deliberate movement, Arnlaug curled his hand into a fist and then struck the mage squarely in the face, and then turned the pathetic creature in his hand to face the King of Gondor.
Aragorn looked at Davyn for a moment and then turned back to Legolas, grey eyes wide in horror as he surveyed the body of his friend. "I… I did this to you?" His voice was thick with some unknown emotion as he touched the pregnant belly of his former swordmate.
Legolas looked deeply into the grey eyes and was relieved to find no trace of the creature there. "Yes, you did this to me." His eyes narrowed in anger and he balled up his fist and punched the King of Gondor with all his strength in the stomach. "Never touch me again without my consent, Aragorn. Never." Aragorn doubled over and wheezed, and then nodded his understanding.
Legolas brushed past the hunched over king to stand before Davyn. Lip curled in disgust, he spoke to the mage. "Free me." His hands indicated the collar, the stone, his body.
Davyn swayed on his feet, and then focused bleary eyes on the elf. From somewhere he summoned the strength to give his evil smile and spoke, lips rising from bloodstained teeth. "Why are you so swift to kill what you bear? Are you unhappy that your first attempt failed?" The bloody eyes crinkled in extreme good humor as they shifted from the elf to Aragorn, who had come to stand behind Legolas. "If I return him to his form, it will kill your child. Is that what you wish?"
Legolas staggered under the weight of this revelation and turned tortured eyes to Arnlaug. Arnlaug frowned and shook the mage. "I should just kill you now, cur. Tell me why I shouldn't."
The mage's smile got bigger. "Because my death will not undo the spell. The only death that can undo it is the death of your king, because the elf is bound to him. Only I can undo the spell, and you must have me alive for that." The mage turned his head painfully to the chancellor. "Caught and double caught, old man", he wheezed and then choked on his blood.
The mage turned back to the King. "Now find out what your elf will do, King." The title was sneered.
"Legolas?" Aragorn asked quietly, the question not needing to be spoken.
The elf had turned to the wall again, staring out at the dark smudge of trees on the far horizon. His eyes were filled with desolation as he looked at the thing he wanted most, yet could not have. He slowly turned his head to Aragorn, and softly spoke. "I never thought past the moment of beating him. I never thought about the rest of this." He swallowed hard. "He was going to take the child and bind it like he did to us, Aragorn. I knew I couldn't allow that to happen. Taking the child away from that was the lesser of the two evils. But now…"
Legolas turned and glared at the mage. "He needs to be kept in a place with no stone or metal, Arnlaug. Wood and cloth and rope. Nothing else. Keep him alive so that I can be free when this is over." Arnlaug nodded and then motioned to his wife.
Valda walked forward, long hair blowing in the wind, brown to Legolas' blonde. "And the babe?" She asked in dulcet tones.
"I will bear your heir. And when I have done so, I will be returned to my body and I will leave this place forever and go into the west." Legolas replied bitterly.
"Do you swear this? Do you swear you will bear the heir for Gondor?" Valda pressed the issue again.
Legolas nodded. "I swear it." Fatigue made his voice thick.
"Heard and witnessed." Gilby's voice rang clearly as he limped forward to help restrain the mage. "We need to make a special prison for you, Davyn. I for one look forward to every moment of doing so. Shall we tie him in a sack and hang him from the rafters until after the wedding feast is done?"
"I think that is an excellent idea." Aragorn spoke quietly. "And we must find a fitting way to reward the bravest of us all." His gaze fell upon the two maids who still stood ready to strike a death blow to the now defeated mage. "We all owe our lives to these two ladies. I shall strive to find something fitting of such bravery."
The king then turned to Legolas, eyes filled with sorrow. "I would escort you back down the stairs and to the hall, if you would allow me. That way we could talk as we went. There is much we must speak of."
Legolas nodded stiffly and took the proffered arm. He was tired and the stairs seemed steeper going down than coming up. It was all a matter of perspective, he supposed.
Note: Yes, I didn't really go into how Gondor interacted with other Kingdoms and how no one would have noticed Legolas gone. I see it now that you pointed it out, that HUGE gaping hole in the plot. I tried to close it a little, but I still suck. I'm sorry! Mea Culpa! I'll try harder next time!
And no, Legolas is not going to fall in love/forgive his rapist. Yes, that is really what the whole thing is. But he also has to come to terms with his friend. That will be worked out much later.
And Jasta and I both had life come by and hit us in the heads with big, nasty 2x4's with bent, rusty nails in the end, Jasta much worse than I. Life truly sucks. But I'll try and be faster with the next update. That is, if you want an update. The story could end here if you like, but I have more to tell, and there is so much more angst (ie childbirth and more Machiavellian twists and turns in the court). After all, Davyn is still alive, Legs is still caught and preggers and Lanelese is still looking for the perfect pair of shoes.
So you can forgive me for the late update, I wrote a huge volume and didn't leave you on a cliffie but on a quiet note.
Oh, and Meg, please don't damage your manicure on my account. Here you go, honey!
Clotild had clever fingers, Legolas thought to himself. The same fingers that could pick a lock were equally skilled in fine needlework. Legolas shifted in the window seat, pushing the small of his back against the stone wall even harder than before. The pressure helped to lessen the ache there. Or at least it seemed to.
His attention was again drawn to the woman sitting next to him, her hands almost hypnotic in their motions. The seam was small and neat, nearly invisible in the silky cloth. The calluses on her fingers made almost inaudible sounds against the nap of the fabric as she ran her hands across the seam, checking her handiwork.
Lanelese sat on the floor below them, her blonde hair gleaming in the sunlight. In her hands was a heavy leather bound book, spine stamped with gold. Her voice was a pleasant murmur as she read aloud to them both. Lanelese read aloud often, usually to entertain herself. Clotild enjoyed hearing her in the process, and a symbiotic relationship was born. Clotild would often request obscure titles from the library so that she and Legolas could enjoy hearing the sound of Lanelese's voice almost as much as Lanelese herself enjoyed hearing it.
The current selection was an interesting dissertation on the mystical. The sheer volume of information on his own people had been overwhelming, if misguided. This writer at least noted that elves did exist, although they were increasingly rare. The writer had also noted that in several places, his kind were becoming the stuff of legends.
Lanelese was now reading the chapter on Earth Magics. Her tongue occasionally stumbled on some strange or technical word, but overall she was an excellent reader.
"The main characteristic of the earth wizard, or hedge wizard, is the usage of personal energies to accomplish his goals. The hedge wizard is unable to use any energy except his own to do his workings, and he is also unable to accumulate or store energies. This makes their abilities extremely limited."
The blonde stopped reading and yawned. At a gentle kick in the back of the head from Clotild, she sighed and turned the page to continue reading.
"The true wizard is much more powerful than the hedge wizard because he is able to draw his strength from other sources to supplement his personal energies. A true wizard is identified by his usage of a familiar. The human body is simply too frail to hold a large amount of energy for an extended period of time, and would age and decay at an extended rate. The only exception to this rule is the Istari, who despite their appearances, are not human.
"The main strength and weakness of a true wizard is his familiar. His familiar can help direct his strength as well as store his energies. However, if a familiar is injured or destroyed, the wizard is weakened or even killed." Lanelese sighed again. "Could you not choose anything more boring from the library, Clotild? Why couldn't you be like all the other girls and choose bodice rippers or romances?"
Clotild swung her foot back, but then paused in thought. "Because you never know when you might need to know how to kill a wizard." She turned and looked at Legolas with a knowing look. "Do you not agree, My Lady?"
Legolas raised stunned eyes to Clotild as his memory returned to Davyn's workshop. ::I know his weakness. It was in my hand. I know how to win.:: His thoughts ran like quicksilver. "I absolutely agree. You never know. Please continue, Lanelese. I find the subject… fascinating."
At the young blonde's pained sigh Clotild swung her foot forward again and Legolas found himself laughing for the first time he could remember.
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It was a glorious morning for a wedding. The day dawned clear and bright, with no sign of clouds on the horizon. The day boded well for Valda and Arnlaug.
The sun crept through the window of the queen's chambers to find Legolas crouched over a parchment with Clotild and Lanelese. The pen in his fingers scratched frantically against the vellum as he drew the picture of what they were to obtain, and what they were to do with it. The discovery that he could show instead of tell had been a huge victory in his eyes. The wizard was careless in his arrogance for the more he pondered Davyn's spells, the more flaws he found in them.
As one, the girls nodded and looked back to him. He rolled up the parchment and shoved it under the bed, and then smoothly rose to his feet to stand before the mirror. Touching the image of himself, fingertip to fingertip he spoke softly without turning to the maids. "What do you see in this mirror?"
The maids looked at each other for a moment and then Lanelese stepped forward and looked into the mirror. "What do YOU see?" She asked back, voice soft and barely audible.
"I see myself. Only myself." His hands slowly slid off the glass, and then to cover his swollen stomach. "Do you think that a slave that is born to slavery knows that he lacks freedom? Do you think he knows that he should be unhappy? Or would he just learn to adapt and be happy with what little he is given, never knowing that there was something better?"
Clotild shot a questioning look to Lanelese, and the blonde narrowed her eyes. "I know not what you refer to, Lady. Your son will not be a slave, but heir to the throne of Gondor."
Legolas turned his head slightly and looked at the maid in the mirror. "If you had to choose between two things, both of which were so vile and repugnant that they both sickened you, how would you decide?" The girl wrinkled her forehead in confusion at the subject change, but Legolas did not see it as his attention shifted back to his reflection.
"I would choose the thing that was the lesser evil, I suppose. But how do you know the two things are the only choices? Is there no other option?" Lanelese's voice reflected her puzzlement, but Legolas merely nodded.
"The options are at best limited. I will simply make the choice when the time comes." He frowned at his reflection and then turned to get dressed.
The dress that Clotild brought forward was in shades of moss green with a silvery blue underdress that displayed richly embroidered sleeves and bodice. The fabric was soft and light, but still clung to the curves of his body. It emphasized the swell of his stomach by the way that it clung and then fell to his feet. From the back, it hugged the indentation of his waist, and then the swell of his hips and then fell in lush folds to the floor. The low neckline showed the collar and gem at his throat, and also the rise of firm breasts
Clotild smoothed the fabric down and then gently pushed Legolas to sit so that Lanelese could dress his hair.
Lanelese pulled small pieces of hair and began to make small individual braids, and then began to interweave the braids so that they formed a large diamond pattern on the fall of his hair. Into each junction she braided in a small gem, either a sapphire, emerald, or diamond. She ended this pattern at his waist, and then blended the loose ends of the braids back into the golden locks.
The door to the King's chamber opened silently and Aragorn walked into the room. His overtunic was of a dark blue material with a burgundy undertunic peeking out underneath. The torc was now clearly displayed, resting on top of his tunic, both touching and not touching his skin. His leggings were of a slate grey, almost matching his eyes. His soft boots made a slight scuffing sound as he walked across the room, and then stopped to stand before Legolas.
Lanelese curtseyed fearfully and scurried into the far corner of the room, her blue eyes still filled with the terrifying memory of her last encounter with him. He did not notice this however. His eyes rested on the elf in front of him. With a slight smile, the king extended his hand to the elf. "Stand so that I may see you more clearly."
Legolas regarded the hand in front of him as he would a snake, and then gingerly placed his own in it. He stood smoothly and then walked a few steps forward.
The king released the slender hand and then walked full circle around Legolas, inspecting his possession. After a moment he smiled, well pleased. "You are lovely beyond words, Legolas." He then leaned in to kiss the elf on the lips.
Legolas turned his head and the kiss landed on his cheek instead.
Aragorn's face darkened, his expression perturbed. With fingers of steel, he caught the small chin and turned Legolas back to face him again. He then moved his lips next to a delicately pointed ear and breathed a barely audible whisper. "You will behave today of all days." The voice was stern, giving no quarter. "If you do not, I suspect I will have to make good on my threat to have yon pretty one beaten. And this time I will not relent."
All the elf could do was nod, and then accept the kiss that was forced upon his lips. ::I pray this works today. This will be my last chance. Valar help me.::
The king none to gently grabbed his arm and then began to escort him to the door. The elf looked over his shoulder and looked at the maids with large eyes, imploring them silently. As one they nodded and smiled encouragement. He turned his attention forward, knowing he would have to have faith in them.
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The last time Legolas had seen the great hall was in the winter during his own sad wedding. Now the great hall was done up in great masses of flowers and greenery. The bride was a noble woman, a ward of the king since her husband had died, and the groom was the chancellor of Gondor, second only to the king in importance. Even though this would be a second marriage for them both, it would be handsomely celebrated.
The smell of flowers was sweet and pungent, but not overwhelming. A breeze flowed through from the open great windows. It kept the room from being stifling.
The king paused at the entrance to the great hall, waiting for every eye to turn to him. "They wish to see you, not I." He looked sideways at the elf. "Few have seen you since we were wed, little one. They wish to see the evidence of my devotion to you." The king patted Legolas' swollen stomach and smiled.
Before Legolas could react to this he was being dragged into the hall. Every eye in the room fell upon him as last time. This time however he held his head high and met the gazes that fell upon him. The faces that he saw were openly happy, smiling. There was laughter and joy in this room, whereas the last time he had been here there had only been his overwhelming sorrow and fear.
They moved slowly up the room, people parting for them with some reluctance. Suddenly a young woman accosted him from the side. Her hands reached forward in supplication and she fell to her knees in front of Legolas. "Please, Majesty. Let me touch you so that I may share in some of your magic. I cannot conceive and my husband will put me away if I cannot bear him children. Please, Lady. Let me touch you." Her hands plucked at the hem of the gown like a nervous bird and Legolas took a step backwards, confusion written in his movements and expression.
Aragorn moved forward, almost too swift for the eye to see. His hand was raised to summon the guards to carry the woman away, but then Legolas moved as well. He caught the hand before he could complete the signal, and then pushed it down. With a look of silent reproach, Legolas then turned back to the woman and sank to his knees as well. He took her hands in his own and then pressed them firmly to his stomach. "I don't know if this will help you or not, but I will share what I have with you willingly."
The woman sobbed in elation and then met the elf's eyes. Human eyes widened with joy and then filled with tears. "Thank you, Lady. I will never forget this, and I will tell my children and their children of this moment. Thank you."
She bowed her head and lifted the hem of his gown to her lips. Then she quickly disappeared into the crowd, immediately lost from sight.
After a moment, Aragorn's hand appeared in front of Legolas' face again, and he gripped it so that he could stand and continue walking. As they walked slowly together, he could feel the light brush of fingertips as the people lightly touched his hair and gown as he moved past them. He looked into the faces in the crowd and saw approval and affection and smiled despite himself.
They reached the councilors gathered at the head of the aisle, and then walked beyond to a pair of thrones set upon a low dais, one slightly shorter than the other. With a gentle push, Aragorn indicated that Legolas should sit while the king went and spoke with his council.
The room was swirling with color and sound, Legolas reflected as he watched the crowd. The barons and lords were there, along with their families. The common servants of the castle had crowded into the back, all eager to catch a glimpse of the pageantry of nobility. His eyes moved over the crowd unseeing, as his fingers toyed with an imperfection of the wood on the arm of the throne.
After a second his eyes jumped back to a shining face hidden in the back of the crowd. There he saw an elf with dark hair, his face glowing in the shadows of the back of the hall. He wore the livery of Ithilien. ::A messenger?::
Elven eyes met elven eyes across the room, and Legolas felt his heart skip a beat as the messenger studied him intently. He dared to feel hope for a second that perhaps his people knew he was here and had come to help him, but then was shattered when the elf bowed his dark head in respect, turned and left. It took everything Legolas possessed not to stand and give chase. ::No! He did not recognize me. How could he not recognize me?::
Davyn turned from where he stood with the king and the rest of the council and saw the desolate look on Legolas' face. He bowed to the king and moved to stand next to the throne and bowed again, this time with a mocking smile on his lips. "Does my Lady find something amiss?"
Legolas shifted his attention to the mage and found his eyes narrowing in ill concealed hatred. Davyn saw this and only smiled wider. Turning his eyes back to the door, Legolas said quietly, "I saw someone from Ithilien."
Davyn nodded. "Yes. A courier." The mage tilted his head and studied the elf closely. "You write often, you know." At Legolas' furrowed brow he continued. "All your correspondence has continued while you've been here. You write to your people in Ithilien, and to your dwarf friend in the Glittering Caves. We found it much simpler to keep up the appearance of the prince being here occasionally than to have him disappear entirely. Your reputation of wandering off for months at a time for some adventure or hunting trip makes the illusion much easier to maintain. The prince simply is never here when someone asks."
Legolas bowed his head, hiding his fury from the mage. ::I must be defeated in his eyes. He must suspect nothing. I must not think of what is to come lest he see it in my eyes.::
Schooling his expression, he looked up again. "And what is the news from my people?"
With an eyebrow raised in surprise at the lack of reaction, the mage answered, "More of your people have left these shores. A few linger, but I think they will be departing soon. There is not much left to hold them here. The Age of Men is upon us all. Even your friend Gimli feels that. His letters say that his people are decreasing in number, although not to the extent that yours are."
An expression of hurt briefly flashed across the fair face, an expression that was noted by those of the people watching the exchange. They could see Davyn's smile at the pain of their queen, and they were not pleased.
Legolas' reply was cut short by the arrival of Aragorn. With a bow, Davyn returned to his place with the council, and Aragorn sat upon his throne. It was time.
Valda walked through the great doors and Legolas gasped. He had never her seen her before in anything but widow's weeds and dark colors, but now she shone.
Her gown was of a bright yellow, and gold and gems gleamed at her fingers and throat. Her hair which had always been upswept and modestly hidden now flowed freely down her back, almost to her knees. It was the richest chestnut, and decorated with wildflowers. The silver strands shone in the sun, merely adding to her beauty.
But the most amazing change was her face. Her eyes glittered with joy, her face was flushed with excitement and her smile showed her bliss.
Legolas glanced to Arnlaug, standing with the council. His face as he beheld his bride was heartbreaking. If there had been any doubt in anyone's mind that the two were deeply in love, the looks on their faces would have dispelled them instantly. It was the total opposite of the last time he had been in this hall.
As Valda stood next to Arlaug and the wedding contract was presented Legolas found his gaze drawn to Davyn and then up to the window to check the position of the sun. ::Soon. Please let it be soon. Please, let them be successful:: He had not told them what he intended to do if they were not.
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The corridors were empty. For this small blessing, Clotild sent many thanks winging their way up to whatever deity might be watching over them. The metal handle of the bucket cut into her hands, and the weight of the roll of silk cloth didn't make the burden any lighter.
With a silent sigh, she wondered again how she ended up with this part of the job. ::Because Lanelese can seduce any man alive, that's why:: She rolled her eyes and then peeked around the corner to see what progress her fair partner had made with the guard.
The mage had installed a guard in the hallway near his rooms after Legolas' last adventure. They had hoped that during the past uneventful months that security would have been relaxed, but the guard still stood. Fortunately, it was a guard known to Lanelese and her considerable charms. Unfortunately, he also had a sense of duty that had to be dealt with as well.
The guard's broad back was to Clotild as she looked around the corner and caught Lanelese's eye. She gestured to the blonde to hurry up. The blonde smiled widely, strain showing in her lips as she widened her eyes and jerked her head for Clotild to duck back behind the corner.
"Bryn", she continued. "Surely no one will come this way. Everyone is at the wedding. Please walk with me in the gardens. Surely you will find a flower there of such rarity and beauty that you will wish to possess it." She could hear Clotild's choked guffaw, and laughed loudly to cover the noise.
The guard raised an eyebrow and smiled down at the little woman. She was lovely as usual, but acting strangely today. "Lanelese, I've tried to possess that rarest of blooms many times, but it keeps pushing me away when I would pluck it. I will not leave my post for the promise of something that is not to be."
The maid pouted, lip trembling. "Bryn, I'm hurt that you would think such a thing of me. You know that I am a blossom of the highest virtue and purity. I would have the one who plucks me be worthy of me, as you are." There was another choked sound from around the corner and Lanelese made a mental note to place scorpions in Clotild's bodice drawer. "Come walk with me and let us decide how to resolve this. I do not like you to feel this way."
The guard leaned down and kissed the top of the maid's head. "Why do we not decide how to resolve it here? There is no one here now, nor will there likely be anyone coming."
Blue eyes wide in panic, Lanelese mentally scrambled. "Because… because.." She faltered and then saved herself, "Because I do not like the halls. They are dark and do not show my charms nearly as well as the light of the sun. I prefer to look my best at such times and that includes proper lighting, Bryn. Come to the gardens. The lighting is PERFECT there for my skin."
Bryn shook his head sadly. "Sorry, little bird. I am on duty now. Perhaps later?"
The maid blinked, stunned. She had been refused. No one refused her. No one. After a moment she smiled again. "Of course, Bryn. I shall await you in the great hall." She spun away, skirt swirling and then played her final card. She tripped upon a small speck of dust on the floor and went flying.
Bryn lunged forward and caught the maid before she hit the ground. "Lanelese! Are you alright?" All he could see were her shoulders shaking as she shook her head. The delay of him trying to help her up gave her the opportunity to conjure up a respectable amount of tears.
"I twisted my ankle, Bryn. It hurts. I feel it swelling even now!" She turned tear filled blue eyes up towards the tall guard, and allowed a single tear to spill down her white cheek. She made as though to stand and then fell against Bryn, into his arms with a small wail of pain. She looked over Bryn's shoulder and saw Clotild watching with a look of complete amazement. It was far from attractive to stick one's tongue out, but it was also satisfying at times, so she did it. Clotild made frantic motions again, pointing out the sun's position in the sky and that time was passing as Lanelse snuggled her face into the guard's strong neck and shoulder. With a sigh, Lanelese continued, "I feel it swelling, Bryn. Can you help me to the garden so I can soak it in the cool waters of the pond? Surely that will help."
The guard looked back and forth. The maid was right. No one would be here, and it was his duty as well to help those in need of aid. It helped that she was young, attractive and possibly willing. With an effortless swoop, he picked up the small body into his arms and began to turn back the way Lanelese had come to take her to the gardens.
"NO!!! NOT THAT WAY!!" Lanelese could shriek like a banshee when she wished. She froze when he stared at her. Then she wrapped her arms around his neck and wriggled herself against him. "Take the longer way, Bryn. I like the feel of you holding me."
With a confused sigh Bryn turned the other way and walked, Lanelese tucked up securely in his arms. Lanelese's smile and hand gesture over the broad shoulder as they left expressed her joy in a job well done and the fruits of her labors.
Clotild counted to fifty and then walked around the corner. She swiftly ran to the heavy wood door and placed the bucket and silk on the floor next to it. The lock quickly fell to her pick again. The mage had not even bothered to change it. She wondered briefly if he had perhaps placed a trap in his rooms instead and decided to be extremely careful.
The key to the workshop had been in the same place, just as Legolas had drawn it and the door had opened easily. She left the key in the lock outside and then walked in.
The workshop was bright and cluttered with many strange things, but the thing she sought was right in the open as expected. She wrapped her hands in the silk and then pulled the thing down to her and wrapped it even more tightly in silk. It then went into the wooden bucket. No part of it would be allowed to touch stone or metal.
It was while she did this that she did not hear the click of the door closing behind her. She did not discover it until she turned to go and found the door locked, with the key still in the other side.
She pursed her lips in annoyance. She could not pick the lock with the key still in the door. It blocked the tumblers. How could she have been so stupid? She turned slowly, surveying the entire room. There was no other way out. She tugged on the door again, but it did not budge. She was trapped.
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The wedding feast progressed and Legolas watched Davyn for some sign that their plan had worked. The mage remained annoyingly healthy. He glanced out the window again. The sun was past its zenith and was descending now. ::Something happened. They have failed. If I am to act, I must do so now while I still have some small amount of freedom.::
He closed his eyes and made his choice. ::I must do this. The Valar will never forgive me, but it will save the young one from a fate worse than death:: His eyes opened and found himself filled with a frightening calm.
Valda glanced down the table and met Legolas' blue eyes as he glanced her way. The elf radiated an aura of serenity that had never been exhibited before. The countess frowned for a moment before turning back to her husband.
Legolas slowly rose from his seat, and then moved back towards the side door towards the garderobe that he had already visited multiple times today without incident. Aragorn glanced up and away, and then back over. The elf stood in the far doorway and met his eyes. With a small smile at his captor Legolas then lifted his skirts and ran.
Aragorn carefully placed his knife on the table, stood slowly and walked casually across the hall to the side door. He turned back and made a gesture at Davyn. As soon as he was out of the sight of the populace, he ran after his queen.
Legolas skidded to a halt in the hallway, looking frantically for the path that he knew he was to take. He knew he only had a few moments leeway before Aragorn would capture him, and the dress slowed him considerably.
He heard the sound of running feet behind him and turned to the first staircase. There. That would take him where he wanted. His feet flew as he climbed the stairs, and entered another gallery. He ran down the straight stretch of hallway and heard Aragorn come to the top of the stairs and run afterwards. "Legolas!", the king bellowed, his anger giving him speed.
Legolas ran harder; his feet barely touched the ground as he flew down the gallery. He came to another flight of stairs going up. The entrance was flanked by two pedestals with statues of some obscure city official from the distant past. It was with little remorse that Legolas knocked them down as he flew past. They had just given their lives for a noble cause. He ran up the stairs, starting to breathe a little hard now.
Aragorn's curses filtered up the stairwell as he tripped and then climbed over the wreckage. Legolas knew that it would only buy him a few seconds, and he was beginning to tire. The child was having more of an effect on him than he realized.
He reached the head of the stairs and there stood an armed guard. The guard seemed as surprised to see Legolas as Legolas was to see him. They stood and regarded each other for a moment while Legolas panted for breath.
Aragorn's feet began to run up the stairs again, and his voice preceded him. "Catch her! Don't hurt her, but catch her!" The guard put aside his sword and then opened his arms as if to grab the small and helpless looking woman in front of him.
He soon discovered that looks are often deceiving as Legolas ducked under his arms, bundled both of his hands into a fist and rose up and swung them into the back of the guard's head as hard as he could. The guard fell off balance and tumbled down the stairs, plowing into Aragorn as he came up the stairs. They both rolled back down, a tangle of arms, legs and curses.
Legolas darted through the doorway and onto the walls of Minas Tirith. His goal was ahead of him, up another long flight of stairs. The tall watchtower that overlooked the city and the lands below loomed ahead of him as he poured on a final burst of speed and then climbed the long stairs to the top.
The tower was round and open on all sides with a waist high wall surrounding it. Crenellations were on top of this, giving both an excellent view of the land around, and also cover against archer fire. After a pause to get his bearings Legolas climbed up to the wall, and then on top of one of the crenellations. He stood there, looking out over the city, and then down. The ground was far below. There would be no surviving that fall, even for one of the firstborn.
He looked up again and narrowed his eyes against the sun. The day was clear and bright and there was no haze. He thought perhaps that dark smudge he could see on the far horizon might be his beloved woods. He put his hands over his stomach. ::I wish it could be another way, young one. But the alternative is so much worse for you.:: Visions of a small golden collar danced behind his lids when he closed his eyes.
He heard footsteps at the head of the stairs and turned to face them.
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Clotild was cursing colorfully beneath her breath. She had spent what seemed to be many hours trying to find a way out of the workroom. She had heard that wizards always had secret passages and escape routes from their dens, but she had been unable to find one. Either she was not looking in the right places or Davyn was too arrogant to have one. Given the amount of time she had spent looking, she thought it was the latter.
She then returned to the door and pondered it. When staring at it failed to cause the lock to quail in fear and open before her fury, she then used her mind.
After searching she had found that Davyn had several large, thin books of what appeared to be spells. She was able to find one large book that would slide under the door when opened. She situated the book below the lock area and pushed it out as far as it could go with her still able to slide it back in.
She then returned to the lock. With one of the daggers she had found on the workbench she slowly pushed the key backwards from the lock until it fell. She closed her eyes and prayed as she did this, hoping that something heard her and would watch over her.
The key fell with a thump, not a clang, and Clotild slid the book carefully back under the door. The key lay on top of the pages and then was in her hands.
She finally opened the door and then grabbed her burden and ran into the hall.
Lanelese waited for her there. "Where have you been? I had to do such things to keep Bryn busy!" The blonde couldn't help but smile for a moment.
"I got delayed." Together the two maids grabbed the handle of the heavy bucket and ran towards the great hall.
But the plans had changed.
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Legolas turned to face as Aragorn as he came to the top of the watchtower, followed closely by Davyn and Arnlaug. The king was panting for breath, his face scraped from his fall down the stairs. Davyn glowered evilly and moved forward, only to be stopped by a hand on the arm from Arnlaug.
"Legolas, come down from there." Aragorn spoke, his voice silky. There was a note of fear behind his voice.
Taking a deliberate step backwards so that his heels rested on the line between stone and air, Legolas shook his head in the negative. The wind blew around him, causing the gown and his hair to whip in the wind. The dress tightened on his stomach, clearly showing the king the pregnancy that was the ultimate goal of his actions.
When Legolas at last spoke, it was one word, softly spoken yet heard by all. "Choose."
Aragorn turned to Davyn and gestured towards the elf on the battlement. "Do something!"
The mage turned to the king. "I can do nothing. Let him go. We will catch another one for you, My Lord. That one we will hold much tighter." The voice was oily in its disregard.
There was a look of total astonishment in Aragorn's eyes as he processed the words of his mage.
He then turned and took a step towards Legolas, hand outstretched. "Come down." His voice was no longer as firm. "I promise I won't be angry. Just come down."
Legolas looked down at the king and shook his head again. Lifting his skirt to show his feet, he lifted one foot and hung it over the edge. "Choose."
Aragorn raised his hands to the torc at his neck and then looked back at the mage. "No, my Leige. Leave it on."
Hand alternately grasping and releasing the torc, Aragorn looked from one to the other, his breath coming in painful gasps. His expressions ranged from pain to anger to fear and back again. Behind him Valda and Gilby had joined Arnlaug.
Legolas smiled serenely down at them and spoke one last time. "Goodbye." He then shifted his weight from the foot on the battlement to the foot over the air and began to fall backwards.
"NO!!! LEGOLAS!" With a wrench, Aragorn ripped the torc from his neck and threw it to the ground, and then leapt up to the wall. He lunged forward and wrapped his arms around the falling elf, catching Legolas by the knees. The force of the falling body nearly yanked the king off his feet and over the wall, but Arnlaug had run up behind him and grabbed his king around the waist.
Valda and Gilby had watched the torc fly through the air and land at their feet. The metal made an almost musical chime when it hit the stonework and then shattered into hundreds of pieces. Each piece gleamed in the sun for a moment and then, as if the sun's light was too hot, melted and ran down between the cracks of the stone tower, gone forever. The countess and the councilor looked at each other and then to Davyn. The mage's face had gone white and then red with fury, eyes burning.
As one, they moved between the mage and their king.
The sudden stop had snapped Legolas' back and head into the wall, and he limply hung there for a few moments as the world spun around him. After a moment, the elf realized that his fall had ended, and in fact was reversing itself as he was pulled back up the wall. The rough stone scraping the back of his legs and back helped bring him back to himself. With frantic energy he began to fight the arms that were pulling him back up until Aragorn's bellow reached down to him. "Stop, you fool. I chose you."
Legolas went limp again, unknown emotions coursing through him as he was pulled back up onto the battlement. He looked to Aragorn's neck and saw that the torc was gone and smiled, but the smile was short lived.
Davyn raised his hands above his head and drew his power to himself. His true face was now revealed, wrinkled and aged and horribly cruel. With a flick of his power he sent Gilby and Valda flying sideways, each heavily hitting the wall and falling to the ground senseless. Another flick sent Arnlaug to lie beside his bride.
The mage closed the distance between the king and the elf slowly, his aura flickering blue around him as he prepared for a final strike. "At last I have my revenge, Aragorn, son of Arathorn. It may not be as sweet as I might have wished, but I will still have it at least." The burning eyes fell on Legolas. "I underestimated you, elf. You were something more than less than nothing. But you have still failed. Prepare to die." Davyn raised his arms and gathered his power to him to strike, this time to kill.
Behind him, unseen as servants often are, came two young women lugging a heavy wooden bucket. As one, they took in the scene before them, upended the bucket carrying a silk wrapped contraption of gold wire and crystals, and then together lifted the bucket over their heads and slammed it down onto one of the crystals. The impact caused the crystal to shatter, releasing a scream as it turned into powder. They raised the bucket again, and shattered another one. And then another.
At the first crystal's death, the aura around Davyn began to flare and grow brighter, and then dim. His face turned from one of anger to agony, and a scream came from between his lips that made those around him cover their ears. He turned and tried to move to where the women were shattering his familiar, but instead fell to his knees in agony as another crystal died. And then to his belly squirming in pain. He keened and howled and the tattoos on his arms writhed angrily, and the animals shown there began to rend and devour one another.
There was only one crystal left and the bucket was raised when Arnlaug's voice rang out. "Hold!" The weary maids froze and then lowered the bucket gently, but still ready to give the death blow to the vile creature before them.
Arnlaug helped Valda to her feet and then walked over to the mage. With a large hand he grabbed the front of the blue robe and pulled the now broken mage to his feet. Davyn's eyes were red with broken blood vessels caused by his screaming, and blood from them ran down his cheeks. With a deliberate movement, Arnlaug curled his hand into a fist and then struck the mage squarely in the face, and then turned the pathetic creature in his hand to face the King of Gondor.
Aragorn looked at Davyn for a moment and then turned back to Legolas, grey eyes wide in horror as he surveyed the body of his friend. "I… I did this to you?" His voice was thick with some unknown emotion as he touched the pregnant belly of his former swordmate.
Legolas looked deeply into the grey eyes and was relieved to find no trace of the creature there. "Yes, you did this to me." His eyes narrowed in anger and he balled up his fist and punched the King of Gondor with all his strength in the stomach. "Never touch me again without my consent, Aragorn. Never." Aragorn doubled over and wheezed, and then nodded his understanding.
Legolas brushed past the hunched over king to stand before Davyn. Lip curled in disgust, he spoke to the mage. "Free me." His hands indicated the collar, the stone, his body.
Davyn swayed on his feet, and then focused bleary eyes on the elf. From somewhere he summoned the strength to give his evil smile and spoke, lips rising from bloodstained teeth. "Why are you so swift to kill what you bear? Are you unhappy that your first attempt failed?" The bloody eyes crinkled in extreme good humor as they shifted from the elf to Aragorn, who had come to stand behind Legolas. "If I return him to his form, it will kill your child. Is that what you wish?"
Legolas staggered under the weight of this revelation and turned tortured eyes to Arnlaug. Arnlaug frowned and shook the mage. "I should just kill you now, cur. Tell me why I shouldn't."
The mage's smile got bigger. "Because my death will not undo the spell. The only death that can undo it is the death of your king, because the elf is bound to him. Only I can undo the spell, and you must have me alive for that." The mage turned his head painfully to the chancellor. "Caught and double caught, old man", he wheezed and then choked on his blood.
The mage turned back to the King. "Now find out what your elf will do, King." The title was sneered.
"Legolas?" Aragorn asked quietly, the question not needing to be spoken.
The elf had turned to the wall again, staring out at the dark smudge of trees on the far horizon. His eyes were filled with desolation as he looked at the thing he wanted most, yet could not have. He slowly turned his head to Aragorn, and softly spoke. "I never thought past the moment of beating him. I never thought about the rest of this." He swallowed hard. "He was going to take the child and bind it like he did to us, Aragorn. I knew I couldn't allow that to happen. Taking the child away from that was the lesser of the two evils. But now…"
Legolas turned and glared at the mage. "He needs to be kept in a place with no stone or metal, Arnlaug. Wood and cloth and rope. Nothing else. Keep him alive so that I can be free when this is over." Arnlaug nodded and then motioned to his wife.
Valda walked forward, long hair blowing in the wind, brown to Legolas' blonde. "And the babe?" She asked in dulcet tones.
"I will bear your heir. And when I have done so, I will be returned to my body and I will leave this place forever and go into the west." Legolas replied bitterly.
"Do you swear this? Do you swear you will bear the heir for Gondor?" Valda pressed the issue again.
Legolas nodded. "I swear it." Fatigue made his voice thick.
"Heard and witnessed." Gilby's voice rang clearly as he limped forward to help restrain the mage. "We need to make a special prison for you, Davyn. I for one look forward to every moment of doing so. Shall we tie him in a sack and hang him from the rafters until after the wedding feast is done?"
"I think that is an excellent idea." Aragorn spoke quietly. "And we must find a fitting way to reward the bravest of us all." His gaze fell upon the two maids who still stood ready to strike a death blow to the now defeated mage. "We all owe our lives to these two ladies. I shall strive to find something fitting of such bravery."
The king then turned to Legolas, eyes filled with sorrow. "I would escort you back down the stairs and to the hall, if you would allow me. That way we could talk as we went. There is much we must speak of."
Legolas nodded stiffly and took the proffered arm. He was tired and the stairs seemed steeper going down than coming up. It was all a matter of perspective, he supposed.