Disclaimer: I own nothing. The full versions of this and all my fics can be found on adultfanfiction.net author ID Shanastay.
Chapter 4: Silk-ums (AN: title is an inside joke, unless you're privy, don't bother trying to get it)
Legolas looked at his hand in confusion, but did not still it. He found the repetitive motion to be somehow calming, soothing his nerves. He suddenly realized that it wasn't just his fingers in motion. He was rubbing his tongue against the roof of his mouth in sync with his fingers. He stopped then, and immediately felt a wave of unfocused anxiety wash over him. Experimentally he let his fingers and tongue return to the restless motion. The anxiety immediately decreased.
Strange. Very strange indeed. I can't just sit here worrying at my pants. I'll put holes in them in no time at all.
A mission on his mind he headed back to Elrond's house to find a seamstress.
I'm sure she'll have what it is I need.
Legolas hunted up and down the halls until he came across a room filled with fabrics and garments of all kinds. There was a she-elf sitting on the balcony working on an intricate piece of embroidery. She looked up as he entered.
She put aside her needlework and stood. Bowing slightly she greeted him, "Good evening, Prince Legolas. What brings you here?"
Now that he was actually there he wasn't sure how to ask for what he was looking for.
The she-elf smiled at the prince's apparent discomfiture.
Legolas realized how silly he must look searching for words. Gathering what was left of his dignity looked into the smiling she-elf's face and froze.
How do I explain my request without appearing extremely foolish?
The she-elf continued to look at him expectantly when inspiration struck.
"My cousin in Mirkwood heard that you have the most wonderful array of silks here in Imladris. I was wondering if I could have a selection of samples to take back with me to Mirkwood to show her. Then the next time someone from home comes here she can send a request for a dress," he said, blushing.
"Oh! Is that all you needed my Lord? From the look on your face I thought you would ask me for something very unusual," the she-elf responded.
If only you knew just how hard that was…
"Did your cousin specify if she wanted textured silks or smooth fabric?"
Sand-washed came into his head from nowhere.
Legolas answered, "Smooth and a type she referred to as sand-washed?"
The she-elf nodded knowingly, "Your cousin knows her silks. That is an excellent choice." She began sifting through a basket of swatches, occasionally laying aside a particular piece in the growing pile.
Legolas tried to disguise his growing excitement. Why am I getting all worked up over some fabric? He looked down to his right hand that had begun to worry his leggings again. He consciously stilled its movements waiting for the she-elf to finish her search.
I can't put holes in my leggings. That would surely draw attention to this new habit of mine.
He drew in a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment. When he opened them he found the she-elf standing before him, the swatches neatly tucked into a small pouch, and a small smile creased her face. He quickly thanked her and beat a hasty retreat followed by the musical sound of her light laughter.
I think I shall go for a walk. It is such a beautiful evening and I wish to look upon the stars.
Legolas stopped at his room to drop off the bag of silk swatches, pausing to retrieve a sapphire blue piece and placing it in his pocket. He quietly made his way out into the darkening evening looking for a particular spot he enjoyed visiting.
As soon as the trees grew close enough to travel he climbed the nearest one and continued his path through the trees. Being a wood elf he felt most at home in the trees. He felt a sort of kinship with them and could almost hear them whispering as the wind blew through their leaves.
The trees used to have voices of their own in the old forests. But that was long ago. Before even my time.
He finally came to the particular tree he remembered. The spot was beautiful. His favorite branch hung out overlooking the waterfall feeding into a clear pool. The water sparkled in the light from the full moon. Legolas breathed in the scents of the forest at night. He settled down on the branch, his back against the tree's trunk. He drew the swatch of blue silk out of his pocket, examining it in the moonlight. He laid the piece of fabric on his leg rubbing it between his fingers.
This must have something to do with the visions, but how this is connected, I cannot begin to fathom?
He let the serenity of the place wash over him as the motion of his fingers quieted the unfocused anxiety that kept creeping up on him. He let his eyes slip closed, taking in the sounds and scents emanating from the forest.
Legolas' revere was suddenly broken by the feeling that he was being observed. Opening his eyes he found the light from the moon obscured, but there was no eclipse. There was someone standing over him, blocking out the light of the moon, his face hidden in shadow.
Legolas leapt to his feet, his hand reaching for the dagger he kept in his boot. He never got to it. The shadow-man grasped Legolas by the throat, slamming him back against the tree trunk so hard his head swam.
This is no elf. He is too broad and thickly muscled. But how could a man sneak up on me up here? I should have heard him long before he even started climbing, especially since I had my hearing focused on everything around me.
Legolas lashed out blindly, vision still blurry from the initial hit. Trying to bring his hands into play he found his arms pinned to his sides in a vise-like grip. Legolas' response came from nowhere he knew of. His raised his leg up and slammed down hard on his captor's foot. He was rewarded with a muffled curse.
The man's response was immediate, slamming his foot into the side of Legolas' knee, driving him down onto both knees. The man's aim, luckily, had been off. He'd missed the crucial spot that would have smashed Legolas' knee, but it still hurt like all hell. As he fell, the grip on his arms faltered for a moment and he tried to slam his fist into his attacker's stomach. Before he could take the shot, his body was twisted around face-first into the trunk. His arms were pinned behind him and secured at the wrists. He was hauled to his feet gasping in pain as a knife was pressed to his throat.
For the first time the man spoke, "So you like it rough do you? Make a sound and I slit your throat and leave you bleeding here." He pressed the knife closer, turning the blade to run it along the underside of Legolas' jaw, drawing a thin line of blood. "A little souvenir to remember me by."
The man's intentions became amply clear as he pressed the length of his body against Legolas' back, the hard length of the man's erection more than evident.
Realization dawned, this must be another vision. It HAS to be. Please, by the Valar let this just be another vision! Legolas pleaded in his mind as the man worked to remove both their pants, hands caressing in places they had no business to be. Legolas suddenly heard a feminine voice in his head screaming, OH GOD NO! NOT AGAIN! NOT HERE OF ALL PLACES! I'M SUPPOSED TO BE SAFE HERE! NO, GOD, NO NO NO NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO…. This final thought echoed in Legolas' mind as his leggings dropped to his ankles and he stumbled.
Legolas stumbled, nearly falling out of the tree as he snapped suddenly back to reality. Only by quickly grabbing another branch did he stop himself from falling. Heart racing, adrenaline pumping, Legolas turned and raced through the trees like the wolves of Isengard were on his heels.
He sprinted back to Elrond's house, where due to the late hour he encountered no one, going straight to his room. Only after he had closed the door and leaned back against the wood did he unclench his fists. Finally noticing the pain throbbing in his hands he looked down, observing the bloody half-moon shapes in his palms and the now blood-stained swatch of blue silk. He had clenched his fists so tight in frustration, trying to fight back; his short nails had cut deeply into his palms.
Walking to the washbasin he cleaned the blood off his hands, finally looking up at his reflection. He froze. Reaching up he gingerly touched the right side of his face where a growing bruise etched out a pattern. Trailing his fingers along his jaw he noticed the drying blood there and tipped his head back, remembering the knife… "A little souvenir to remember me by." He shuddered, remembering the man's words.
He looked again at his reflection. Was I actually attacked? He thought for a moment. No. There was no one actually there. The strength of the visions is increasing. He glanced back at the visage in the mirror, tilting his head back again. That IS going to leave a mark. He sighed, turning away.
He let his mind mull over the implications of the newest development in this ongoing fiasco as he washed up and changed into a sleeping shift. He climbed into the bed, trying to find some release from his tormented mental state, but to no avail. Something was … missing.
Legolas sat up in the bed and searched the shadowed corners of the room trying to identify what was missing. His eyes finally stopped on his bow. It was the one Galadriel had given him in Lothlorien. He climbed out of bed, retrieved the bow, bringing it back with him. He turned it over and over in his hands as a growing sense of relief swept over him. He moved to place the bow by the bedside and stopped. Instead he laid the bow under the covers next to him.
I just don't understand any of this, he thought as he laid back. He was so exhausted his eyes slipped closed and he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
As soon as all sounds of movement ceased in Legolas' room, a tall, white figure stepped out from the shadows in the hall. "And so it begins. Sleep well my brave friend. You will need your strength in the days to come."
"Gandalf." The white figure turned at the name.
"Elrond. You know better than to sneak up on an old man."
Elrond's brow arched up at that. "You are much more than an 'old man,' Ishtari. You are keeping something from me."
"I am doing no such thing," Gandalf replied, pulling himself up to his full height. Elrond stood straighter as well, taller than the Ishtari by several inches.
Gandalf looked at his old friend, "All I know is something powerful is coming. It is much closer now and it is directly related to Legolas somehow."
Elrond nodded, dropping his eyebrow and turning away from the man in white.
"No one is to question Legolas about the bruises. If he wants to talk to someone, he'll do it of his own volition."
Eyebrow up again, Elrond nodded and silently left the hallway, and Gandalf, to his thoughts.
A/N: real quick--thank you to everyone who has reviewed. I appreciate creative criticism, not bogus stuff. Double thanks to those of you with your own web site who've offered me a place there. I am unbelievably flattered.