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Wild Justice
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Pairing(s): Legolas/OC. Legolas/Elrond (eventual). Legolas/Elladan (mentioned).
Rating: PG-13/R-Rated (nothing graphic).
Summary: Legolas has fled both from Mirkwood and his lover, seeking sanctuary within the boarders of Imladris. He has told no one of his departure and he will tell no one his reasons. Why has our Prince fled? And from what does he flee?
Warning: AU; Slash; M-Preg; Angst.
Notes: Thanks to MoroTheWolfGod for the Plot Bunny.
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Chapter 3: The Lord of Horses
He seemed to ride with the wind itself. So agile and in sync were both horse and rider that any who saw them were left in sheer wonder at the perfection they both displayed. A whisper, a faint nudge to the left and the great mare instantly changed pace and direction accordingly. The rider was not known as the Lord of the Horses for nothing.
Ahearn's intense eyes were shining with suppressed emotions as he rode through the deep forests of Mirkwood. His heart dampened with the lack of news he had received. The tall trees shaded both him and his mare from the heat of the day, their thick branches allowing only stray beams of sunlight to filter through and touch upon the dark earth.
Strong hooves beat at the leaf-strewn ground and resounded in his delicately pointed ears. His dark hair and cloak flying out behind him in his speed. Swiftly, with a nudge to the left, Lord and horse burst forth from the captivating woods and out into the bright sunlit clearing, young elves dancing out the way.
Ahearn pulled his mare to a sudden halt and dismounted, stroking the soft mane he whispered kindly to it: "Diola lle, Arroch, a'mellon" a young stable-hand came up and took the reins from him, leading the powerful beast to feed and rest.
Ahearn watched a moment, longing to go feed and brush down the mare himself, but he knew his duties to his king outshone his own desires. He turned his eyes to look briefly around the immediate clearing of the Kingdom of Mirkwood. If he had not seen it so many times before and in much happier circumstances it would have taken his breath away. But now, now not even the promise of peace throughout the entire world of Middle Earth would lift his spirits.
With a bitter sigh, he straightened himself out and headed towards King Thranduil's Palace. Hopefully the king had far better news to tell than he did.
As he approached the Palace the guards bowed their heads respectfully, he acknowledged them in kind with a nod of his head. "Where is the king?" he asked of them.
One of the guards stepped forward. "He is in his Study, my lord. You wish an escort?"
He shook his head distractedly, "Nay. I shall find him myself." A small frown was bestowed upon his pale features as his mind began to drift. Shaking himself from his stupor he headed down one of the torch-lit hallways. A tiny shiver crawled up his spine and he inwardly wondered, not for the first time, what on this earth had possessed the king to build his palace around the caves of Mirkwood. He simply could not fathom it. The place gave him the heebie-jeebies already and that was without the prospect of sleeping in it. He may not be full Elf, but he disliked the caves all the same.
He sighed heavily as his mind once more tried to drift. With a mental slap he urged himself on. Light feet making not even the slightest of echoes as he walked towards King Thranduil's chambers.
Passing a few lavishly carved doors, Ahearn finally reached the Study-room of the king. He knocked heavily and the reply was immediate. He opened the door and bowed courteously. "My king."
King Thranduil turned around and looked upon the half-elf with a look of surprise. "Ahearn! You return so soon. What news do you bring?"
"None my king. For none have seen him. A few travellers around the boarders of your kingdom recall a lone rider passing swiftly, heading away from Mirkwood. They will say no more or less."
Thranduil appeared thoughtful. "You think perhaps he has sworn them to secrecy?"
"It would appear so. How else could your son have disappeared so efficiently?"
"Seemingly I have been a poor judge of his character: I underestimated his desire to leave us."
Both were silent for a moment. Each sunk into their own thoughts, yet both thoughts flowing along the same tracks. Thranduil desperately wished that his son had not left so hastily. If he had known in advance how his badly words would have affected the prince, he would have held his tongue. Or that is what he told himself anyway.
Ahearn however had no regrets; he was still in bitter stubbornness, adamant that he was right and that the prince had blown everything out of proportion. And he most definitely must have been right, for the king himself had agreed with him. It seemed the prince however had his own plans.
"What of the other messengers?" Ahearn was the first to break the lingering silence.
"A few have returned without news. One about a rider leaving Mirkwood." Ahearn dropped his head in frustration and Thranduil sympathised with him. "I understand how hard this must be on you Ahearn, but he is young, care-free, he will realise his error and return before long. You must have patience..."
"I will leave for Imladris in the morning."
Thranduil stopped speaking. "Ahearn?"
"Messengers were sent, told to go to Lothlorien first then Imladris. They will not have been there yet. I will depart tomorrow, if I may have your leave?"
Thranduil watched the brown-haired half-elf with slight compassion. "You have my leave."
Ahearn ducked his head briefly with thanks before departing the king's chambers. He had much to make ready before tomorrows dawn. Thranduil's bright eyes watched his retreating form. The heavy door closed and he sank to his chair in distress. Once more his thoughts caught up with him and he sorely wished he had not spoken so harshly to his son. Echoes of the last exchanged words between them resounded in his ears like a weird mantra, taunting him into anguish:
You are the crowned Prince of Mirkwood! I will'nt have my only son ruined because of his own stupid mistakes! You will obey my wills and the wills of your lover. So help me if you do not. You are too young for this!" Thranduil looked down upon his son, Legolas Greenleaf in infuriation.
"So what say you father?" Legolas spat out bitterly, eyes shining with fierce defiance. "That I am old enough to partake in the activities but not old enough to face up to the repercussions?"
"Taunt me not! For it will be a cold day in Mordor before I let you disobey me!"
Legolas' mouth thinned, teeth clenched and fists balled tight. "What power do you have over me if I am no longer around?" he spun on his heel and marched rapidly away from his father.
"Legolas!"
Oh how he wished he had held his tongue. How he wished he hadn't tried to be so controlling. But fate it seemed had a plan in mind.
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Elvish:
"Diola lle, Arroch, a'mellon" : Thank you, Arroch, my friend.
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To Be Continued...?
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Peace,
CS WhiteWolf
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