Here's chapter two. Thanks to all four reviewers for the support. Also I fixed the anonymous review block, so now hopefully anybody should be able to review. Sorry about that by the way. I just created my account and am still learning how to use it.
Usual disclaimer: Everything's mine, but what's his.
Note: This story starts before the movies, but will go through them and continue after with a sequel…I think. Anyway, have a happy read.
Chapter 2.
The healing house was perhaps an example of the size of the fortress she was now in, in short it was massive. The moment they stepped inside a healer came hurrying up to them, her tan novices' dress billowing behind her. Pulling a deep curtsy, she said, " Your Highness, Protector, we have a room waiting. This way."
They followed the woman past the main desk, and past two hallways of rooms, every door sporting a number. When they got to the last hall they turned right and skimmed the wall until they reached the room marked '73' where another healer, a male named Urril, was waiting. The novice, who had introduced herself as Linnea, pushed open the door and instructed Arien to set Eilde on the bed.
Urril watched with the Prince as the Protector walked into the moderately large room and carefully, as to not bump his injuries, laid his charge down. So this is the Protector, he thought, He is smaller than I would have expected. Mentally shaking himself he stepped forward his nut brown robes that marked him a master healer rustling as he walked. Stepping up to the bed the healer started his examination.
Arien, seeing that the two healers had it quite under control, slipped out of the room followed closely by Legolas. Making her way back to a small waiting room by the entrance she nearly fell into a settee. Glancing over at the prince, who had taken a seat as well, she allowed herself to take a good look at him. Something she had been wanting to do since they left the stable, because even a person with her limited knowledge of men could tell that Prince Legolas was an extremely handsome young man. Dressed in the uniform of a Mirkwood border sentry, leggings and a green tunic with blue decorative stitching, his warrior's physique was very clear. Judging from his slim yet sturdy build Arien thought that this fine-looking elf would have the grace and agility to rival that of a mountain cats.
Legolas too was taking a moment to assess his companion. The Protector wore normal leggings but instead of a one-piece tunic had on a skirt like bottom piece the same length as any tunic but with two layers and strategically placed slits, no doubt for easier movement. A long sleeved shirt hung a little past his waist, with a thin, half-length, sleeveless, hooded vest over it. It was this hood that kept the Protectors identity secret, though Legolas suspected that there was something else under that large hood that hid the face that everyone so longed to see.
All of his clothing had been made for long travel, maneuverability and camouflage, everything being a dark brown and green. All was well worn, as if it's owner had walked every path and climbed every tree of the wood. This seemed to cast out the idea that the Protector was a normal citizen with a secret life. Someone that lived in the city would not need to allow their equipment to fall into such disrepair. Whereas someone that did not have access to general goods and supplies on a daily basis, would have to do the best they could until they had a chance to purchase fresh attire and the like.
Legolas looked for little things that could give him a clue to the mysterious warriors' identity but could see nothing. In fact not an inch of skin showed. The man's hair, assuming he had some, was held under the large hood and could not be seen. His hands were completely enveloped in dark colored gloves, with suspicious looking stains. Tearing his gaze away from the bloodstains, Legolas looked down to examine the guardian's weapons and noticed something that struck him as odd.
The elf's sword was hanging from his right side. A long dagger hung from his left side and a knife sheath was strapped above the man's left boot. Is he left-handed? Legolas wondered, so wrapped up in his suspicions that he did not notice that his analysis had not gone undetected.
Arien sat in her chair trying not to fidget, wondering what had been so damn interesting about her appearance. She had noticed that his gaze had lingered on her blood stained gloves. Well in case he doesn't know, it is very hard to get orc blood out of leatherShe considered telling him it was rude to stare (purposely ignoring the fact that she had done so only a moment ago) but thought it too a feminine thing to say. After another few minutes of uncomfortable silence, Arien decided she could stand it no more.
"Should you not fetch the young man's parents, and inform them of their son's injury or, if he was thought missing, his retrieval?" As if on cue Lord Arlind burst through the healing house door.
"Where is he? Is he alright?" Arien's heart nearly burst from her skin. She leaped out of her chair, her hand on the hilt of her sword, still not entirely comfortable with being enclosed in a place full of…people. Fortunately her abrupt relocation went by unnoted thanks to the unexpected appearance of the King.
Legolas who had immediately begun to calm down the panicky father sighed in relief when he saw his own sire enter. "Ada."
"Legolas what happened? We were informed that Eilde had been hurt." Lord Arlind released a groan of frustration and started to pace, his green and gold robes rustling with each step. The King watched this uncharacteristic display of nerves apprehensively. Lord Arlind, King Thranduil's most loyal adviser and most trusted friend was not a man prone to panic preferring instead to stand back and analyze the situation calmly. Which is why his sudden lack of composure concerned his long time friend. "There now Arlind calm down," Thranduil said walking over to his companion and laying a comforting hand on his shoulder, "This is not like you. Eilde is strong. He will be fine."
King Thranduil turned to address his son once again his handsome face furrowed in concern, "So what did hap… Legolas who is this?" he asked upon seeing the dark figure standing behind his son. Legolas turned to look at the almost rigid form of the Protector that stood virtually unseen in his shadow.
"Oh, I am sorry father," he said, standing aside to present his friend's rescuer, "King Thranduil, Lord Arlind may I introduce to you The Protector. Protector this is Thranduil, King of Mirkwood, and Lord Arlind of Galethond Hall, King's Advisor and the father of Eilde."
Arien who had stood as still as possible since the arrival of the king, as if some way that would prevent anyone from noticing her, forced herself to bow trying to stamp down a panic she felt creeping up. Will he try to order me to unmask? She wondered feverishly.
The king looked at the renowned sentinel, a glint of curiosity hidden in the depths of his aged eyes. Legolas opened his mouth to explain the guardian's presence but was stopped by the unusual actions of his father. Stepping forward Thranduil placed a closed fist over his bronze silk covered heart and bowed. Something not oft seen being done by the king of the wood. Straightening he said, " My people and I owe you much. There is not an elf in this wood that does not bless your name. If there is anything I can do to show our gratitude let it be known. Anything that you desire that I may rightly give is yours."
The King continued to stare into her masked face making her suppress a shiver. He was expecting an answer. Arien's tongue spoke before her brain, "There is but one thing I desire at the moment my King."
Thranduil smiled, "Name it."
"Permission to sit down."
He blinked for a moment as if wondering if she truly meant it, then seeing that it was no joke broke out in laughter. "Granted."
Arien collapsed back into her chair with relief. The king seemed a pleasant down-to-Arda sort of elf, and he didn't seem to be in any hurry to learn her secrets. She decided that for the moment she would just be grateful that she made it through the introductions unharmed. As it would turn out, she made that judgment just a little too early.