A/N: If you've read this far, you know I only own Mel and Taratoun.
I've been told that Mel fits the perfect role of a Gary Stu. Yet, he is NOT such one - his looks, his ability to wield fire, and just about everything else about him has a reason. His dark skin originates from a dark-skinned father from Far Harad, and his hair, eyes and skills are due to reasons explained more detailed in chapter 18...
Chapter 11: Chaos, thy name is Legolas
Legolas took it as his personal task to see to Mel's speedy recovery, although he continued to have trouble fighting the slowly growing feelings within him. Once Mel grew better, even though he was still confined to his bed, he and Legolas played many games, talked or did other things to pass the time. And when the dark elf dosed off, his body still weak from the poison, Legolas began passing the time by using his skills in drawing to make a portrait of the dark elf, and found he was slowly but steadily falling in love.
He was quite confused over his own feelings, but kept them to himself, having little desire to frighten off his dear friend by confessing them. And so, he waited instead, doing what he could to aid Mel as he recovered from the spider's bite, and only in his dreams allowed his mind to picture how it would be to have his feelings returned.
And so it was that a week passed while the dark elf grew more and more restless with lying in bed, and even the healers' orders could no longer keep him from leaving the room and walking the corridors and halls of the Palace. He and Legolas were sitting on one of the benches in a small garden that Thranduil had created for Legolas' mother while she still lived, breathing in the calm atmosphere of the place, and talking about different things.
Yet, Legolas was utterly taken by surprise when Mel went silent for a while, and, as the Mirkwood elf turned his head, suddenly found himself being given a hug by the dark elf, and felt warm lips press against his for just a brief second.
"Thank you for everything," Mel said, laying his head against Legolas' shoulder for a moment before pulling away, a smile on his features.
Legolas sat still, his mind screaming fanatically at him. Everything he felt for the dark elf came crashing over him at that moment, yet a part of his brain yelled in protest of how it was custom among some cultures to give a kiss as a sign of friendship. Feeling torn, he muttered a low excuse and quickly rose to his feet, walking fast out of the garden, not noticing the wounded look in Mel's eyes as he left.
He sought out the solace of the rooftops of the Palace, finding a secluded spot behind a chimney where he hoped he would be able to make some sense of his thoughts. Part of him told him to return to Mel, confess his feelings and accept any rejection he might get, even though that would risk their friendship. Another part of him protested against this, telling that Mel had been the only giving him a kiss, however brief it had been. And a third part kept insisting that even among the Lothlorién elves was it custom to give a light kiss as a signal of trust and friendship – and that it was quite likely it was so in the culture Mel originated from.
He lost track of time, trying to sort out the muddle of feelings within himself and desperately trying to interpret what Mel could have meant with his gesture. It was not until he turned his eyes to the sky and saw the first stars twinkle in the sky. Drawing a deep breath, he figured that it would probably be for the best to seek out Mel, apologize for his behaviour, and confess how he felt. Yet, he found that Mel was not within the garden where he had been left, in the Grand Hall, or within his room – in which, it struck the elf, his things were missing as well.
Having a sudden feeling of dread, Legolas was close to running through the hallways, his eyes desperately searching for the familiar white locks and dark skin, yet he found nothing. Only when he nearly ran into his father did he find out what was happening.
"I've been looking for you, Lassui," Thranduil said, gently grabbing the shoulders of his offspring. "You missed Mel's departure – although I would have thought you would be the first one there to bid him farewell."
"Mel's left?" Legolas gasped, immediately knowing that he had truly broken their friendship more than he would have been able to by confessing he loved the dark elf.
"You didn't know?" Thranduil asked, a frown creasing his brow, and tightened his grasp on his son slightly when Legolas tried to break free. "He left in quite a hurry, although I did not know why before. You two had an argument of some kind?"
"I… I fear it may have been me causing him to leave," Legolas stammered, his mind racing. "I have to fetch him – I have to apologize!"
For a few seconds, Thranduil was silent, looking into the eyes of the younger elf with a gaze that seemed to look straight into the depths of Legolas' soul, before he released his grasp and said: "He walks on foot, and asked for the safest path out of Mirkwood. Take Arod and go northeast – you should be able to catch up with him within the hour."
Giving a light bow, thanking the Valar for his understanding father, Legolas broke into a true run down the hallways, only skittering to a halt once he reached the stable. Not bothering with a saddle or rein, he brought out Arod and quietly asked his equine friend to help him track down Mel. With a snort, Arod waited for Legolas to mount, then broke into a fast gallop out of the stable and down the pathways through Mirkwood.
The darkness of the night was penetrating the forest, the coolness of the air causing fog to rise from the ground and making it difficult to see the path. Yet, Legolas pressed on, undaunted by the darkness and the sound of nocturnal creatures stirring to life around him. He did not know how long he rode, only that he was following a small spark within his mind, a sixth sense that guided him through the forest down paths he had only rarely passed.
Then, he saw it. Ahead, slightly up a small hill within a glade, the faint glow of a campfire. His hope renewed, Legolas pushed Arod on even faster, feeling as if the distance would never grow shorter. Even before Arod came to a full stop had the elf leapt off, and half ran, half climbed up the hill, slipping in the dew-wet grass as he approached the campfire.
A surprised Mel rose to his feet as Legolas tumbled up the hill, clearly not having expected any of this. He opened his mouth to speak, yet, before he managed to do so, Legolas had reached him. Wrapping both arms around the slightly smaller elf, the Mirkwood elf pressed his lips against dark ones, feeling Mel tense in surprise in his arms.
"I'm sorry," Legolas whispered, breaking off the kiss and gently brushing a lock of bluish white hair from the forehead of Mel. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have run off like that. I care for you, Mel, I even love you, I have for a long time and I'm sorry…"
Mel then gently silenced him, placing a single finger on Legolas' lips.
"I know," he said softly. "I saw it in your eyes. But I hoped you would not say so. I like you – as a friend. A good friend. But not as a lover. I thinked your kin do as mine when giving friendship and… alliance. I apologize for giving you the wrong idea."
"It's okay," Legolas replied, swallowing before giving a weak smile. "And it would be 'thought', not 'thinked'."
Mel made a face, and mock-punched Legolas' shoulder, commenting with a laugh: "Esa doa! I've only been around you for two weeks, you shouldn't complain of my language!"
"Not until you start teaching me yours so I'll be able to understand when you're insulting me!" Legolas replied, laughing equally hard. Taking a few steadying breaths, he smiled and held out a hand. "Friends?"
"Friends," Mel agreed, clasping the offered hand with a smile. "And only that."