Deana I guess chapter 11 is a little bit late in coming, eh? Sorry for the wait.
Bitterlee I don't think they will ever learn. If they learn, then they will be no more stories! Ha! Ha!
Leralonde Uh, you're right. Leggy still has his clothes on. But he will take off his shirt in this chapter, while in chapter 15 or 16 or whatever, I'll make sure he bares it all! Mmm, yummy! (Is Leggy gonna do a striptease? No, I'm not telling.)
Keluin Lossehilin Yes, Hawkeye's back. The Three Stooges are in for another adventure! (Actually, I got the idea for that canvas thing from my mother. She's one beautiful lady with lots of beautiful philosophies.)
Ceyxa Firstly, I'm sorry to hear about your grandmother. Yes, it happened a long time ago. But still we miss what we have lost. As for when Legolas lost his manyan ability, it took place in my 1st fic, 'The Evil Bride'.
Kalayna I'm glad you like the simile. KOH is rated R in your country? Oh, poor you. In my country, it is rated G. Strange, isn't it? (Like Leggy, I'm quite a sentimental person too. I have an old photo of my parents' wedding in my purse, carried everywhere with me.)
Rutu No, I'm not a mother yet, so it doesn't apply. Ha ha ha! Oh, you can ask whatever questions you want, be it silly or awkward. I love them and I'll try my best to answer. Gosh, that was frightening about your brother missing like that! I lost my nephew once in a playground and we thought he had been kidnapped! But, no, he was playing happily by himself under one of the slides. What a relief! (Mmm. Stories for C2, stories for C2… If you want angst, how about 'Thorns In My Mind'? Oh, put on whatever you want, mate! I'm all yours. )
Theo darkstar You ask me the one question I cannot answer. Why is 'Triple Jeopardy' removed? Your guess is as good as mine. The reason which the ffnet board gave me was so vague, I still can't figure out what it was that I had done wrong. When I requested further explanation, they didn't even bother to reply. Maybe somebody else will?
Delano Oh, go give Kel a hug. He needs it. Yes, it has been more than fifteen years now since the manyan stone was taken out of Leggy. I'll try to come out with the correct date later on.
Sailor Elf : Of course, he will help. What do you think he is there for? Being a spy to the brothers' wives? He he he!
A NuEvil It is indeed nerve-wracking. I both love and hate it at the same time. It keeps my adrenaline going on and on until I go crazy from it. (Hawkeye first appeared in 'Trauma').
Karriya Great hockey game you had there! And you cheated? Good. If you don't cheat, then it's not a game. LOL! Yes. My posting schedule sucks right now. Like I said before, blame it on my boss!
Lomeril I had tears in my eyes reading your review. Thank you so much, mellon. It's a great honor to know that people is enjoying my work. I know that many readers have demanded that I put back 'Triple Jeopardy' on board, but I'm still not ready to do it for fear to have it removed again. If you want to read it, I'll be more than happy to e-mail it to you.
TaniaNZ Nice to see you back! How's vacation in Down Under? Got a good tan? (Talking about Marton Csokas, I love him in Bourne Supremacy. He looks hot!)
I know I'm late but please don't kill me for it because my PC acted up again and my boss keeps looking over my shoulders to see what I am doing and my colleagues keeps disturbing me to read this fic!
Anyway, here's the hastily written chapter 11.
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To say that the Mirkwood brothers were stunned was an understatement.
They were thoroughly stupefied.
"H…Hawkeye?" Keldarion croaked, still blinking in disbelief.
"Gallard!" Legolas exclaimed in deep shock. He lowered his bow, staring wide eyed at his long-time friend. "Where the blazes did you come from? And what on earth are you doing here?"
Grinning at their reactions, the draqwalked closer until he stood right in front of Legolas. "Why? Aren't you pleased to see me?"
"No! I mean…yes, of course we are pleased to see you but…" Legolas shrugged as he also started to grin. "What the heck. Come here, you!"
Keldarion watched in a slight daze as his brother and Gallard exuberantly embraced, slapping each other's back and laughing like a pair of loons. The sound of their rejoicing was so loud that a flock of birds scampered away from under the bushes, rudely awakened from their sleep.
This was not the first time that Keldarion had seen Gallard outside his eagle form. Still, he was impressed by the uncanny resemblance the man had to Legolas, which was clearly obvious when they stood so close together like that. They had the same long golden hair, the same physique, the same smile, and the same devil-may-care attitude. The only big difference was that Gallard had tawny eyes instead of silver.
And, unlike Legolas, he could fly.
Technically, Gallard was half man, half eagle. He was a draq, a shape-shifter that could take the form of the noble predatory bird at his whim. In fact, when they had first met him, they thought Gallard was indeed a full-bloodied eagle. Gimli, the dwarf, had given Legolas the bird so that the manyan prince could heal its broken wing. Legolas had grown fond of it and named it Hawkeye, not knowing that his beloved pet was a lot more than it seemed.
The entire truth only came out about ten years ago when, one night, a stranger had literally dropped from the sky onto Legolas' balcony. Suffering from an arrow wound, he had sought help and refuge from the Lord of Ithilien. No one was more shocked than Legolas when the injured man claimed that he was Hawkeye the eagle, but the elf's doubt instantly vanished the moment he witnessed Gallard'sincredible transformation.
Afterwards, they had been some confusion when Legolas was mistakenly abducted by the shraqs, the shape-shifting ravens—sworn enemy to the Tasqamaran, a kingdom of draqsfar across the sea. Gallard—accompanied by Aragorn and his army—had swiftly sailed to his island home and regained his rightful seat on the throne from his treacherous uncle, who had led the shraqs in the coup by assassinating the old king. Having defeated the traitor and his cohorts, Gallard was then crowned the new ruler of Tasqamaran.
From then on, Gallard's jovial visits to see Legolas grew less and less frequent. Not that he had forgotten his good friend, but his demanding role as a king did not permit him to roam free and easy like he used to. Except for attending the occasional festivities and formal functions in Gondor or Ithilien, King Gallard never left his kingdom.
Until now.
"Err…" Keldarion loudly cleared his throat as the former pet and master kept jumping over each other's speech to express their joy at the unexpected meeting.
"Excuse me? May I be included in this celebration, or should I catch some sleep and let you two at it till the sun comes up?" he wryly asked. At that, Legolas and Gallard ceased speaking and stared sheepishly at the wounded elf prince.
"Pardon us, Kel. We got a little carried away just now," Gallard said, grinning as he knelt down to squeeze Keldarion's hand in greeting. "Say, what happened here? Did Legolas accidentally shoot you?"
That caused Keldarion to laugh uncontrollably, which quickly turned into a loud groan as the pain in his chest intensified. Legolas, meanwhile, rolled his eyes.
"I take that as an insult!" he retorted, glaring at the draq. "By the way, why are you here, Gallard? Aren't you supposed to play king back home?"
Gallard's smile fell flat. Shrugging, he sat next to Keldarion and lazily draped his arms across his upraised knees. Staring at the ground under his feet, he sighed. "Why would they need a king when they already have a competent queen?"
At the strange remark, the elven brothers gaped back at him in incomprehension. "Eh?"
Realizing what he had just said, Gallard snatched his gaze back up and forced a smile on his face. "Never mind. I was simply muttering to myself."
Legolas' frown clearly showed that he was not utterly convinced. "Err…did I just hit a sore spot or something?"
"Look. Forget I said that, all right?" Gallard waved nonchalantly at the matter. He then jerked his chin Keldarion's way. "Now this is something new. Usually, it is Legolas who I would find lying on his back with holes all over him. So, what happened?"
"Kel got careless, that's what happened." Legolas chuckled. He then gave Gallard a brief account of all the events since they had found out about Eldarion running away from home.
"You truly believe that this Movrak person holds Aragorn's son?" the draq asked after Legolas finished with his story.
Swamped by sudden drowsiness, Keldarion responded with a slight slur, "I guess we have to. He's the only lead we have left."
Legolas noticed his brother's fatigue and instantly grew concerned. "Kel, are you all right?"
"Huh? What?" Keldarion blinked rapidly to fight against his heavy eyes. "Y...yes. I'm fine. Just tired..."
Not fully satisfied, Legolas reached down and lifted the blanket which covered his brother. Inspecting the wound, he noticed the spots of blood on the bandage but, luckily, no infection had set in. "Does it still hurt too much?"
Keldarion weakly shook his head. "Not as bad as before. It throbs, though."
"I've found more herbs in your pack. The leaves may help dull the pain as your wound heals. I'll add some of those into the soup—that is, if you're feeling strong enough to eat anything."
"I'm so hungry I could eat a horse. Now where is that soup? I've been waiting for hours!"
Chuckling, Legolas walked back to the pot to resume the task he had abandoned when Gallard made his appearance. The draq stared suspiciously at the bowl of soup Legolas carried over for his brother.
"You made this, Legolas?"
Legolas frowned. "No. Why?"
"Thank heavens for that!" Gallard released a sigh of relief. "Whatever you cook would only end up as poison!"
"Hey! I can cook, mind you!" Legolas protested, reaching up to smack Gallard upside the head, the bowl balancing precariously in his other hand.
"Watch out, watch out!" Keldarion cautioned. "Give me the blasted soup before you drop it!"
Glowering at his friend, Legolas put down the bowl before he assisted his brother to sit upright. Gallard helped on Keldarion's other side, gently pushing the wounded elf backward until he was leaning against the wagon wheel.
Panting for breath, Keldarion gave them both a shaky grin after closing his eyes briefly. "This is nice. I feel so pampered. Having two serving minions is not really a bad thing indeed."
"Right," Legolas dryly replied, not looking the least bit impressed. "Well, enjoy it while it last because this serving minion of yours is about to cram this soup down your throat. Now open up."
"I can still feed myself, thank you very much!" Grumbling, Keldarion seized the bowl and took a cautious sip. Finding nothing wrong with the soup, he began to slurp away. As he ate, he turned to Gallard. "You have not answered our question. What are you doing here?"
Somehow, the Tasqamaran king was reluctant to explain. Then, noticing the determined hounding looks the elven brothers were giving him, Gallard nodded with a sigh. "Yes, I know I'm supposed to stay home and sit quietly on my throne."
"Kel didn't mean it that way and you know it," Legolas said, fixing his friend a gimlet stare. "Why are you here? That's what we want to know. And where's your retinue? You do have your own bodyguards, right?"
"I lost them somewhere in the woods of Belfalas," Gallard responded with a nonchalant wave of his hand. "They can't keep up with me so I shook them off my tail."
Legolas frowned. "But why did you do that?"
Staring hard at the man's gloomy face, Keldarion put down the bowl. "Honestly, Gallard, are you in trouble?"
Glancing between them, Gallard sighed again. "I'm fine, I'm not in trouble, my kingdom is doing great, and my wife gets even lovelier each day. Everything is wonderful."
He shrugged, saying in a much softer voice, "I just need some time alone by myself, that's all."
At that, Legolas' brows shot upward, while Keldarion's eyes narrowed thoughtfully.
"O-oh. I don't think I'm going to like the sound of this," Legolas muttered.
"Yes. This sounds so terribly familiar, don't you think?" Keldarion nodded. "It reminds me of Eldarion and the entire mess he has gotten himself into."
Gallard rolled his eyes. "I did not run away from home."
"Oh, really?" Legolas didn't buy it. "So what are you doing here? Having a bloody picnic?"
Gallard glared, his tawny eyes burning as bright as the gold in his hair.
"I need some space!" he shot back. "Why can't anybody see that? Why must everybody keep pestering me with so many questions? Why should they follow me everywhere I go? Why can't they tend to their own affairs and leave me to mine? And what is so important about the stupid decorations anyway? Who cares what color the drapes and tapestries are? Do we really need a bronze statue of myself in the middle of the vestibule? No! I don't think so. This is all Kylea's doing! She keeps decorating the place with these little knick-knacks or whatever until that tower resembles a museum! I can't even fly in my own home without bumping into one thing or another. I nearly broke my neck once when I went smack into a low hanging chandelier that wasn't even there the day before! Really, my own furniture will become the death of me one of these days."
The brothers watched, slack-jawed, as their friend continued on with his tirade, growing increasingly red in the face. After spewing out a short foul curse, Gallard went silent and took several deep breath to calm himself down.
A long—and tense—while later, Legolas finally reached up and patted Gallard on the back.
"It's tough to be a king, isn't it?" he remarked, sympathetically.
Looking extremely sheepish, the now composed draq nodded. "Sorry for that outburst. I sounded like a total fool, didn't I? Just forget everything you heard, all right?"
"Don't you want to talk more about it? Maybe we can help," Keldarion offered.
Legolas resisted the urge to snort out loud in amusement.
Yeah, right, he thought, Your own relationship with you wife is not looking so rosy, Kel, and now you want to help Gallard with his? Come on, get real!
Coughing to hide his bubbling laughter, Legolas kept a straight face as he remarked, "You don't sound too happy with your wife after what she has done to your place."
Embarrassed, Gallard lowered his eyes and nodded. "I didn't mean to sound so ungrateful but…well, she likes to decorate and that is what she keeps on doing and doing. I can't blame her, though. The place looks nice and homey, great for impressing our guests, yet I don't feel quite at home. There are too many delicate and expensive ornaments around that I fear breaking any one of them. I start to feel insecure, you know, like I have to be on my guard all the time lest I drop a figurine here or knock a vase there. But I don't have the heart to tell Kylea how I feel. She is my queen. She has rights to my home and property, whether to beautify it or ransack it as she wishes, even if it gives me headaches."
Legolas couldn't hold it any longer. He burst into roaring laughter, clutching his tummy while his entire frame shook with his mirth. Keldarion and Gallard gawked at him as if he had sprouted a second head, which caused Legolas to laugh all the harder.
Looking bemusedly at the drag, Keldarion asked, "Want me to hit him for you?"
Gallard shook his head. "No, thank you. I'd prefer to do it myself."
With a yelp, Legolas quickly leaped away before Gallard's palm could connect with his head. "Take it easy, my friend. I mean you no insult."
"Then why are you laughing at me?" The golden-haired man looked angry enough to spit fire out of his mouth. But Legolas also noticed that Gallard's eyes glimmered with hurt. The elf quickly sobered.
"Forgive me, Gallard. I didn't mean any disrespect," Legolas said as he edged closer to his friend to squeeze his shoulder. "Coincidentally, Keldarion and I have our own…uh…problems with our respective wives right now. So, you see, I can't help but find humor in all this. I mean, here we are, the three of us, far away from our beloved significant others. And why is that? Lack of communication, that's why."
Keldarion chuckled. "There he goes again, preaching away like a wise wizard."
Ignoring his brother's rib, Legolas continued, "Why is it so hard for us to tell our ladies about our fears and insecurity? Would it make us appear weak and foolish in their eyes if we did? I don't believe so. If truth be told, I think it would make us stronger and feel a lot better with ourselves."
Legolas stared straight at Gallard. "Tell Kylea what you really think about her decorating your place. There's nothing wrong in stating your opinion to your wife. Whether she takes it kindly or not is a different matter but you need to admit the truth to her. She is no psychic, my friend. She is unaware that you are uncomfortable with your own home, so you have to let her know. If she loves you enough, she is not going to judge you on that. In fact, she will do something to rectify the matter. Trust me on this."
His mouth hanging open, Gallard stared incredulously at the Lord of Ithilien. "All right, who the heck are you? Where's Legolas? What have you done to my friend?"
That did it. Legolas laughed again, this time with Keldarion joining in.
"Seriously, Legolas, I thought it was your father talking just then." Gallard shook his head, and grinned. "The only difference is, Lord Thranduil is a lot better looking than you are. You look as if you have been operating a butcher house. You smell like one too."
Pushing away, Legolas sniffed at himself. He grimaced when the high stench of blood and rotten flesh hit his nostril.
"Pheh! I smell worse than a pigsty!" His face scrunched in disgust, Legolas stood and went to get the water skins. Shedding off his jerkin and tunic, he wet a towel and ran it all over his face and chest, muttering hotly to himself when he couldn't reach his back.
"Here, let me help you," Gallard proffered.
Legolas paused briefly. But then he shrugged and tossed Gallard the towel. "Sure. I always wanted a king to wash my back for me."
"Right." Keldarion grinned. "I still remember that one time when fatherwashed your back. You kept shrieking like a little girl."
Scowling at his brother, Legolas responded, "He was not washing my back. He scrubbed it raw."
"Well, he had to. You had just fallen into the cesspit!"
Legolas' face reddened as his two companions laughed uproariously with delight at his bad luck. His own nose wrinkled when he recalled the scent from that 'tragic' event.
"Ha bloody ha," he muttered. "I'm glad you two find it so funny."
"Not then, maybe. All the windows in the palace had to be left open the entire day to let out the heavy and…uh…interesting aroma," Keldarion said, wiping the tears of mirth from his eyes. With a grimace, he clutched at his chest. "Great. I think I just bust my lung again from laughing so much."
"Serves you right," Legolas shortly stated and looked over his shoulder. "Are you finished back there?"
Wiping off a patch of dried blood between Legolas' shoulder blades, Gallard then announced, "Done! You look as good as new, and smell as nice as a…"
"Don't even go there," Legolas warned with a mock glower, his lips twitching. Turning around, he went to his pack and took out a spare shirt. As he got dressed, he asked Gallard the question that had been plaguing him ever since the draq had appeared.
"How did you find us?"
Humor aside, Gallard sat back down next to Keldarion and arranged the blanket more securely around the wounded prince. Keldarion's eyes were drooping, a sure signal that he was growing more lethargic by the minute, either from his injury or full belly.
"I never intended to find you," Gallard responded, looking a bit guilty. "I was just roaming aimlessly, with no actual purpose in mind. I thought of turning back to Tasqamaran before sunrise. Or rather, before Kylea sends out an army to arrest me."
He grinned at this. "I think I just make my wife crazy with worry. She is not going to be happy with me when I return. Anyway, I caught sight of this campfire from afar and thought it peculiar when I noticed a pile of corpses dumped nearby. I flew down to investigate, and you know all the rest."
"You still plan to fly home today?"
Gallard shrugged. "To tell you the truth, I'm not feeling like going home right now, not after I've heard the big trouble that Eldarion is in. Besides, Kel is injured. I'm thinking of joining you, and give you both some assistance. That is, until Eldarion is rescued and sent back to his family."
"You would do that?" Legolas cocked his head to one side as he studied his friend's expression. "What about Kylea?"
"She will understand. Oh, she will blister my ears with a long lecture and stuff, but she knows I will never abandon friends in need." Gallard smiled. "Thank you, Legolas, for what you've said to me earlier about telling her the truth. I'm not looking forward to it but that will be my first intention the moment I arrive home."
"Good." Legolas nodded. "This might sound cliché, but honesty is really the best policy for a fruitful marriage. Right, Kel? Err…Kel?"
No answer. Keldarion was already lost to the world, deeply asleep.
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The clanging sound of an iron bar being lifted roused Eldarion from his slumber.
Moaning slightly, the young man raised his head and looked through heavy-lidded eyes at the opening door to his cell. A tall, burly guardsman strode in, heading straight for the other corner of the small dark and dingy space. A moment later, he strode back out, dragging along a small boy by the wrist.
Whimpering with fright, the boy's tearful eyes stared helplessly at Eldarion, as if begging him to put a stop to this nightmare. Guilt ridden, Eldarion shamefully looked away and lay back on the floor, his own eyes watering and tightly shut.
The door closed with another loud clang. Without anyone telling him, Eldarion knew where the boy was being taken. And he hated himself for letting it happen.
The day before, when they were still caravanning through the desert, Movrak had ordered the lovely child slave to be brought into his tent. When the boy emerged not an hour later, he had looked terrible—his eyes vacant and his body trembling from head to foot. Movrak had come out seconds later, rubbing at his crotch. And then the man had the gall to smirk at Eldarion before barking the order to break camp and head for home.
Home.
Eldarion chuckled without humor at the word. This was not his home. Minas Tirith was his home, not this fortress in the city of Harodem.
It was still late at night when they arrived, and all the slaves had been immediately hustled down the cellar. While most of the other slaves were crammed into one room, Eldarion was lucky to have this cell with only that young boy for company.
Lucky?
His tears fell at that. This had nothing to do with luck, he knew. Movrak had arranged it so, to torment and irritate him, to cause him fear and despair. Movrak wanted to show Eldarion through the small boy what he wished to do to him when the merchant got his chances.
"In the end, you will submit to me. Starting from tomorrow, you will be put into hard labor under the sun. We will see which part of you will break first—your back, or your spirit. Either one of them is fine by me," Movrak had gleefully told him before disappearing into his big sprawling house.
Those words still echoed in Eldarion's ears.
I'm not going to break, the prince vowed as he rubbed at his aching blistered feet. The long walk in the desert had been cruel on them.
The only thing that will break is your head, Movrak.
And I'll be holding the rock when it smashes down your skull!
TBC…