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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 4: Close Encounter
Before the dawning of the new day, when the world was still asleep, he was ready to leave. His horse, Arroch, was saddled and packed with his essentials and now stomped at the damp earth with an impatient hoof. He snorted in frustration as his master checked him over, warm air shooting out of his nostrils with a grunt, condensing in the chilly pre-dawn air and hanging suspended for a moment before his face, as if trapped in time, before disappearing inconspicuously into the sleeping world. Arroch let out another impatient snort.
"Calm, my dear. We shall leave shortly, and we will find him." Ahearn stroked his steed's nose gently, turning his face away to look out over the horizon where the sun would begin to rise within the next hour. His jaw became suddenly stubbornly set and he glared at nothing in particular, body tensing in suppressed anger. "So help him if we do not." He whispered sharply. But the only one to hear his words was the creature beside him, and he wasn't about to repeat them to anyone.
"Lord Ahearn?" the dark-haired half-elf spun sharply and watched the approaching servant. A quick bow of the head was given before he was permitted to speak.
"My king gives you his leave, he expresses his concerns also."
"His concerns about what?" he asked brusquely.
"My king does not say, but I believe he means for you to interpret his words as thee sees fit."
Ahearn scowled. "Very well. Please inform thy king that no concern is needed, for I intend to fulfil what I have set out to do. Go now."
He watched the servant scurrying away for a moment before leaping onto his waiting horse. With a nudge he set off through the dense woodlands of Mirkwood towards the realm of Lord Elrond of Imladris.
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Legolas had spent a good half of the last two days and most of this day in the library of Imladris sifting through the scrolls and ancient texts. He was not looking for anything in particular, he just took pleasure in knowing that he was surrounded by so much information and lore and poetries from over the many years of the world.
He had though forlornly of the library in Mirkwood and wished bitterly that it were as grand as this one was, the thought was folly, his father's love for jewels and gold overruled such 'petty' things as libraries. It was a no wonder that many of the elves of Mirkwood knew very little about the past, too much about the present and spent their time singing songs and poetry, dancing and hunting and fighting the foul creatures dwelling about his homeland.
Legolas sighed heavily. His homeland... oh how he longed to be home under the familiar branches of the trees he loved. He longed to sing sweet songs of nothing surrounded by friends, but most of all, he wished to be back in the arms of his lover. No matter how much he feared him at the moment.
"Oh melamin," he whispered into the dusty text that sat upon his lap. "Lle rangwa amin? Why do I love and fear you when I should only hate."
He snapped the text shut and stood, placing it back atop the right shelf and exiting the library. It would be better for him to keep active than to dwell on things that could only unearth painful truths and memories. He didn't want that right now. He needed to think about his predicament but today was not that day.
Taking a left, Legolas made his way towards the kitchen's feeling a sudden urge to nibble at something. He passed discretely down the halls before reaching the kitchen doors. He made sure his hood was still in place before he entered.
Luckily for him there were only a few people left in the kitchen, and those few barely spared him a second glance. He figured that the other cooks and so forth were delivering or retrieving the lunchtime meal. He himself did not feel like eating anything too substantial. He made his way over to one of the loner cooks and asked if there were anything he may have just to snack on.
"Why are you not eating your lunch, master?"
"I do not feel hungry, only peckish."
"What then would you like?" The cook rummaged about in a few cupboards and disappeared briefly into the pantry. "We can offer you bread, cheese, berries and fruits, buns, sticks of carrot, parsley and cinnamon, and soup?"
She displayed the contents on a board and offered it to him. "Help yourself. If you need any more assistance I shall be over by the washer. The dishes will be coming back any moment and they have to be cleaned and ready for use again soon."
"My thanks." Legolas bowed his head politely and the cook returned the gesture before hurrying off.
"Now what to take..." Legolas bit his lip, his hand hovering over the board. Finally he settled with a handful of berries and two sticks of cinnamon. He had a taste for something sweet and something slightly... savoury.
With that in order he waved his hand to the cook and left the kitchens. He made his way up through the front halls, taking a long stroll back round in the direction of his room. Maybe he would bypass the library and pick up the book he had been reading on the way there.
He finished the berries and drew a stick of cinnamon from his pocket; he sucked thoughtfully on one end, his mind perfectly calm and relaxed. In fact he was so relaxed in his surroundings that he barely noticed the travel-worn stranger enter the front hall until he had bang-on collided with them.
Stumbling back- the cinnamon stick falling from his mouth- Legolas looked up to apologise to the person only to find his apology falling from his lips like the dewdrops from a bowing leaf as recognition sparked in his mind and he realised who it was that stood now before him.
Legolas sharply ducked his head, the force of his actions causing stray strands of hair to fall out from beneath his hood. Legolas' hand immediately smoothed them back behind his hood.
Had his lover ever paid him as much attention as he had to his lover, then Ahearn would have immediately recognised those strands of hair as belonging to him. As it would have it, he did not recognise him for Legolas had been outside the day before and had roamed the infamous lands of Imladris with the hot autumn sun upon his back, turning his soft, fair hair to that of a dark, golden-honey colour. Much darker that was normal. Legolas did not know whether to be relieved by his lover's obvious lack of attention, or saddened that he meant that little.
"Watch were you are going, fool. You could have knocked me straight off my feet!" Ahearn's voice was rough and deep.
Legolas stepped back, his mind spinning frantic suggestions of escape. He turned and made to dash down one of the halls only to find a large hand gripping at his upper arm.
"Are you not even to apologise?" Ahearn was looking expectantly at Legolas. The elf could feel his questioning gaze.
"Sorry." Legolas mumbled, trying to make his voice sound deeper and more from his belly. He was mortified that it sounded more of a fearful croak.
"See, now that wasn't too hard was it? What is thy name? Remove thy hood so that I may see your face."
"May you please release my arm first?" Legolas stammered, keeping his head down.
"Why? So thou may attempt to run from me again?"
"Forgive me, my lord. You startled me is all." Panic was bubbling up inside him and if he didn't get away from Ahearn quickly he knew it would escalade out of control and force him to either reveal himself or attempt to hurt Ahearn. He wished to do neither for the consequences that would follow.
"Is this how you treat my people, lord messenger of Mirkwood, when you come into my lands?" Came a deep and commanding voice. Powerful in the words it spoke.
Both Legolas and Ahearn turned to face the voice that had spoken. Legolas nearly sighed in relief when he saw the Lord of Imladris enter the hallway.
"Forgive me, Lord Elrond." Ahearn bowed respectfully. "I meant no disrespect."
"Tell that to the one you hold." Elrond's dark eyes were filled with authority and pride radiated off of him as he stood tall.
Ahearn released his grip. "I meant not to startle you-?" he waited expectantly for a name.
"You may go now." Elrond spoke to Legolas and the Elf bowed his head and hurriedly retreated the scene. "Please follow me, Lord Ahearn, I believe you wish to speak with me?"
"Indeed." The half-elf began following the Elven Lord, but his eyes watched the retreating stranger. He seemed almost familiar.
Most curious.
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Elvish:
"Oh melamin, Lle rangwa amin?" : Oh my love, do you understand me (at all)?
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To Be Continued...?
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Peace,
CS WhiteWolf
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