Wild Justice
Chapter 12: The Storm Brews
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He stepped out of the washroom as a knock sounded upon the door, his lithe frame shaking slightly from this sickness that plagued him in the mornings. It made him feel horrid and weak and extremely miserable.
He called out that Abie may enter, for he knew that 'twas her who waited outside. She came into the room with a smile upon her features and carried a try laden with fresh foods for his breakfast meal.
She lay the tray down upon the table and looked at him in a critical matter, taking in his sunken features, the traces of bags beneath his eyes, his pale complexion and though his face had thinned, his waist had thickened. Legolas hurriedly thanked her for bringing in the food, indicating that she may now depart. Abie took the hint and did so leaving the young prince to himself.
Legolas left the food untouched, he knew that Abie knew that something was wrong. Every morning she would arrive with a try of food and a few hours later she would return to pick up the empty tray. Only they would not be so empty: some of the food at least would have been attempted, nibbled at, but the majority was left untouched. She remained tight lipped at him about it and he would not have dared tell her to just simply not bring him a morning meal.
He knew inwardly that she would still even if he asked. He sat himself upon his bed, attempting to pull upon his boots, it was becoming harder and harder to do this. His stomach had, thankfully, not yet fully inflated itself. He had seen the Elf-maidens in Mirkwood whom were expecting: their stomachs swelling up to unbelievable sizes. He cringed at the thought of being so obviously engorged. There had been the few with but a small bump, visible but not terribly noticeable. Legolas wondered if he would be lucky enough to be in the smaller majority?
He managed to fix on his boots, standing- his muscles not yet showing too much of a strain- and cautiously walking over to the tray of food. He had to cover his nose as the fumes immediately attacked at him. At any other time they would have enticed him, but in the mornings, it made him sick. Gingerly he picked up a piece of sliced apple and nibbled on that a little- he managed three slices before his stomach turned and he was forced to leave that which remained. He looked both longingly and resentfully at the food before him and made a mental note to take some cinnamon sticks from the kitchens. At least he could eat that at whatever time of the day.
Sighing heavily, he pulled on his cloak and left his room, his feet propelling him towards the libraries. He would wait until the breakfast rush in the kitchens had died down before going for his fetish foods. It looked to be a lovely day; Legolas could see signs of weak sunlit forests and hear the gentle trickling of some fountain or water source not so far away. He hoped to himself that many of the Imladrarian would be out of the Homely House on such a day. Though there was a slight chill to the air, it would no doubt warm up rather quickly, at least if one stuck to the open-path roads as opposed to the dense forestry trails.
He entered through the huge opened wooden doors into a room thick with knowledge. Texts, centuries upon centuries of years old were said to be found in the further reaches and wings of these great rooms. Unfortunately, travellers and guests to Imladris, (and ones in his predicament), were not permitted to such areas. Neither were many of Imladris' population, come to think of it. Only those with Lord Elrond's permission and those whom served close to him were allowed.
Legolas wished he were one of those fortunate enough. He loved to read. Had always. It was his next favourite activity to archery and hunting. Though Mirkwood had not almost a whole wing of its kingdom devoted to knowledge, but rather a small collection of rooms. He smiled fondly at the memories of the shelves upon shelves cramped with scrolls and books: many of which were ineligible, so old and worn away as they were. He remembered the many times he could be found tucked away in a corner, cramped between shelves, sitting upon his crumpled tunic for comfort, his nose deeply engrossed in whatever it was that he were reading. He could recall the days when Ahearn would rebuke him for staying into the late hours as opposed to spending time with him, being seen out with him, attending to his duties as- not the crowned Prince- but as his lover.
Legolas Greenleaf's face suddenly became devoid of all emotion as a sudden realisation came to him. Rather than allow himself to dwell upon his thoughts however, he forced his eyes to scan the library. It, although as quiet as the grave, was busier than usual. More Elves than he had yet seen were gliding about the library: seated at tables; looking for texts; reading and writing. He skimmed the heads of the twenty or so Elves, looking to check that he would be safe to remain.
Alas that this was not to be so. For hidden away in a far corner (though plain to see for a scrutinizing eye) sat two Elves of similar look, dark heads bent together surreptitiously. The Prince of Mirkwood's heart began a steady hammering against his chest as he recognised his friends, the twins Elladan and Elrohir. Turning on his heel he decided after all to visit the kitchens of Imladris. He would take a couple of cinnamon sticks and head out into the woods once more.
As his feet took him down the halls, careful to avoid groups or anyone who may have authority he pondered to himself what now the twins would do. They had not told Lord Elrond anything, but that did not mean that they would not. It seemed to be all a matter of time. Elrohir could simply have rejected such an idea- that he was pregnant- due to its absurd nature. He would want proof. These thoughts he had already resolved. The question: what would the Elvish brother's do to gain proof to either confirm or deny?
And would their being in the library have anything to do with it? He sighed slightly. Maybe he was just being paranoid. Looking for any reason of which to suspect the twins of plotting against him. It was nothing unusual to see Elrohir in the library; he was always helping his father out with documents and so forth that needed to be researched before being completed. And even when these were not being done he was in likeness with Legolas in that he too loved to bury himself into the texts of old for hours on end. Such a likeness between them had been their beginning.
Elladan was another matter entirely. He was as like to his brother in looks but nothing in personality and interests. True they both adored hunting and so forth, but Elladan had always avoided the library like orc to the sunlit day. Something neither his brother nor Legolas could understand. Perchance the older Elf had changed over the years since last Legolas had known him? Nothing ever stayed the same. Why should Elladan be any different? The world continued to change every minute of every day, and so did the peoples living in it.
Nothing could ever stay the same.
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It was chillier than he had expected it to be out with the confines of the Last Homely House. It was chillier, but not unbearable. Legolas Greenleaf pulled his cloak tightly about his shoulders and started off into the shaded paradise of the forest trails.
Deeper and deeper he journeyed, his mind blissfully devoid of thoughts as he gave himself up to the spectacular beauty and wonder that was Imladris. Oh so magical and safe! It made his home in Mirkwood look like some foul creation of Melkor as opposed to an Elven realm!
The trees pulsed with energy and squirmed with living, growing things. A small, fleet hare flew across his path- running from one undergrowth to the next. Legolas paused and smiled in its passing. The leaves above him stirred from a slight breeze before a sudden hush took over.
Legolas frowned at the sudden silence before his body tensed as he felt a presence behind him. He could hear nothing outward, even in the deep quiet but the feeling of someone approaching behind him unnerved him. Without pausing for further thought, his hand had swept to his blade belt (worn at all times, even if he had had to loosen it).
He pivoted smartly, blade swinging about only to clash against the singing metal of another's weapon. Legolas froze for an instant, eyes widening in shock.
He promptly pulled his blade back, sheathing it and hurriedly beginning to mumble his apologies, eyes to the ground. He heard a slight chuckling and looked up into the face of the Imladrarian Lord Elrond. The Elven Lord sheathed his own weapon and brushed the younger Elf's request for forgiveness aside.
"Do not be so quick to offer apologies, Legolas. You acted just as warriors are trained to."
"I should have been more car-"
"Nonsense!" abolished Elrond. "I would not have had you act any other way. Always trust your instincts, my prince." He smiled at Legolas. "If any of us should be apologising, it should be I."
He chuckled at Legolas' sudden look of shock. "It was I, after all, whom caused you to act thus. Forgive me, for I had assumed you to be in thought and wished not to disturb you."
Legolas didn't say anything for a long moment before he nodded his head. There would be no point in arguing with Lord Elrond he decided, the Elf was- from what he knew of him- utterly stubborn and unmoving on such things. And for something as small as to whom the blame did so lie with, well, it was just not worth it.
Elrond smiled kindly at him. "Good." He acknowledged the younger Elf's submission on the matter and began walking on again. Legolas hesitated, unsure whether or not the older Elf wished for him to walk with him.
The dark-haired Elf paused after a moment and looked back at the younger Elf. Legolas noted the look of faint amusement in his ancient eyes as he asked if he would join him.
The Mirkwood Elf complied, once again giving into the Elven Lord. They walked on in silence, each keeping to their own thoughts. Legolas remained tense. Being in the presence of this great Elf was just not relaxing on him, he kept wondering if somehow Elrond knew. If he knew and was just biding his time before he cornered the younger Elf with the information. When the older Elf found out- for it was inevitable that he would- Legolas pondered if he would be able to stay within Imladris, for surely he would be just as opposed to the birth as both his father and Ahearn were? Would he still be granted the sanctuary if he refused to comply? Or would he have to leave?
He doubted sanctuary would still be valid.
"You do not have to wear your hood in my presence Legolas, nor when you are this deep in the forests. It is doubtful that many will run into you out here, much less recognise you as the prince of Mirkwood."
Legolas was pulled from his musings with a blush. He removed his hood and raised his hands to run through his hair. He had neglected to braid it this morning and so it hung freely about his face. For this he only blushed harder, feeling like a mere child in the presence of his elder.
His fingers were swift to gather up the correct particles of hair, and braid them into his preferred style.
"You hair is beautiful, my prince. You suit it down. It enhances your natural beauty."
Legolas' cheeks flared and he shot a look of amazement at the Elven Lord. To think something like that was enough, to say such a thing was daring indeed. The blond Elf found that he was at a loss for words to speak in reply to such a statement. It was confusing at the least.
"My apologies." Lord Elrond finally commented at the lack of response. Though from the slight twinkle in his eye, he looked not it in the slightest. "My words were too bold."
"No!" Legolas said hurriedly. Elrond looked at him quizzically and the young Elf felt his cheeks burn harder. "No, 'tis fine, you- you need not say sorry." He met the Elven Lord's eyes for a moment as he spoke, "I'm flattered. Truly."
Elrond looked at the blond Elf. Really looked. As if he were seeing him clearly for the very first time. Legolas ducked his head again and tried to compose himself. The moment had been extremely, bewildering.
"So, my lord, is there any particular reason for your walk this fine day?" Legolas was glad his voice betrayed none of his disquiet. They began walking on again. A bird from somewhere high above them began to chirp a sound and a whisper flew through the trees.
The raven-haired lord laughed quietly to himself. "Well yes actually. I happen to be hiding from Lords Erestor and Glorfindel."
Legolas gave the Lord an enquiring look and was rewarded with a louder laugh. "There are some matters I should be attending to, political and so forth, but I decided that today is not the day for such things."
Legolas smiled suddenly as a devious thought hit him. "Would that be the reason for Lords Elrohir and Elladan to be in the library?" his voice was innocent, his nervousness at the awaited answer only visible by the flickering emotions in his eyes.
"I am unaware of my sons' reasons for being in the library, why do you ask?"
"Oh," Legolas shrugged nonchalantly. "I was planning to spend some time in there earlier but I witnessed them and presumed that they must be helping you out. I felt I should not disturb them if this were so and thus I journeyed out here." He gave a small laugh. "Foolish of me no doubt."
"Not at all, my fair prince. Not at all." Legolas was looking ahead and thus did not see the look that Lord Elrond was giving him. The Elven lord was already extremely curious about this Mirkwood Prince who had fled from his realm due to a- family feud? Some things just did not add up.
The Elven lord plastered a convincing smile upon his lips and engaged the young prince in conversation on unrelated topics, pleased to note that the more they spoke, the more the young one seemed to relax in his company. Elrond inwardly congratulated himself, if he could just get Legolas to trust him...
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To Be Continued...?
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Peace,
CS WhiteWolf
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