A/N: I hereby officially apologize for taking so long in writing this... for taking YEARS to write this. I'm not really sure who I'm apologizing too because I bet the many wonderful reviewers who read this fic years ago when I first posted it are probably long since mortally departed or just plain sick of me. :( But there it is.
My apology.
A few notes I'd initially written when I planned on posting the third chapter 2 weeks after the second chapter-
-Note to Koala: Ah. Okay. for your first question about 'Southern Elves'... I was looking at a map of Middle Earth and I began wondering about a little section of land below Mordor in the very south-eastern most corner of the map. 'Who lives there?', thought I. My imagination answered with 'Elves too ungainly, ugly and greedy for mention in Tolkien's log!'. And so... the concept of the more evil-prone Southern Elves was born. And as for your other two questions about Legolas's ability to keep up with the other elves, and whether or not he'll enter more tournaments... well, you'll find out in the story! D
-Note to Serena Lim: Hey, thanks so much for the e-mail... You know I read it right when I was on the verge of tucking Promise away again and putting off writing it for another few weeks? When I read your message, I immediately pulled out all my fanfic-files and got down to business again, lol. You saved Promise! Hooray! (Updated Note: Much of the contents of this third chapter were written during that period, Serena. Basically, all I recently did was weave together my already written random scenes.)
Disclaimer: Some characters are mine, but everything's pretty much based on Tolkien's masterpiece. (See Ch.1)
Warnings : Slashy implications and heavy innuendo. Nothing graphic. (Yet.) ... (Maybe.) Um... I hope no one minds that this fic is becoming less ... ah... Disney-ish. (Just say so if you mind! I'll change it, pronto!)
Takes Place Just After Aragorn Leaves Legolas In The Hallway.
"It lives!", declared a wide-eyed Elrohir upon seeing his elder brother approaching from up the stairs. Aragorn only rolled his eyes in response.
Elladan and Elrohir were waiting at the foot of the northern staircase, both tapping a foot impatiently and smiling in such a way that it was a direct contradiction to their annoyed tones of earlier and their irate body language of late.
They didn't need to smile, of course. Aragorn knew that his twin brothers, whatever they said, were not in the least bit angered by his lack of punctuality. In fact, it was rare that the twins were angered at all - Elladan being too calm and collected to fall prey to such a vehement emotion and Elrohir being unable to take anything serious enough to be angered by it. To give them credit, however, the twins did put on quite a show when they tried to be angry...
...Just as they were doing right then; giving Aragorn disapproving looks as their elder brother came within a good proximity of them.
"What took you so long?", Elladan asked, folding his arms across his chest, business-like.
"Well, I-"
"Nevermind", Elrohir interrupted, throwing the act aside,"Come on, they're waiting!"
Taking Aragorn's arms, the twins began leading their elder brother across the hard oak floor to the front entry way and were just about to cross the threshold when suddenly - someone plowed between Elladan and Aragorn, brushing past them and shooting out the front door.
"Yeah, excuse you!", Elladan called rather testily after the disappearing figure of a female elf. The girl only turned and cast him an angry flash of her green eyes, but didn't stop in her charge across the west lawn.
"Southern elves", Elladan muttered, narrowing his eyes at her.
Both Aragorn and Elrohir's eyebrows raised in surprise at the sudden unraveling of their brother's composure.
But neither of them said anything to Elladan in regard to this, and so... taking Aragorn's arms once again, the twins towed their elder brother through the entry way, out onto the palatial front steps of the Tournament house building and across the east lawn towards the stables.
"Where are we going?", Aragorn asked just then, looking around.
He'd thought that the Lorien elves (Haldir, Orophin and Rumil) would be waiting for them out in front of the Youth Tournament building. When outside, however, he quickly saw that there was no one else in sight - that is, except for the guards at the gates, of course - however, they appeared to be too deeply engrossed in a rather serious game of jacks to pay any mind to them. Instead, the twins continued towing him over the grass towards the right side of the settlement.
"Behind the stables", Elladan answered his brother's question while releasing Aragorn's arm,"They're leaving."
The expression Aragorn shot his brother clearly conveyed his puzzlement,"What are you talking about? Who's leaving?"
"Me, of course", Elrohir smiled, dropping Aragorn's arm, too, just as they rounded the stable building and appeared before a small gathering of platinum-haired elves.
"Aragorn", Haldir said, standing. Orophin, who had been seated on a log next to his brother, stood up as well.
Aragorn smiled and greeted the brothers, before turning and giving a little wave to the third elf who was in attendance... the youngest one of the bunch: Rumil was standing a little further back towards edge of the forest, busily examining a rock of some sort.
"All right", Aragorn began, business-like, arms akimbo as he faced his brothers and the blondes,"So why are we meeting behind the stables like some shady pipe-weed dealers? And why in Arda would you choose to leave now when we'd been begging you to do it for centuries, Elrohir? Did you put him up to this Haldir?"
"Such demands.", Haldir purred in that smooth drawl of his,"Must be that savage half of the Peredhil's..."
Aragorn couldn't help but crack a smile. Haldir The Flirt, a flicker of his eyes could make a grown-elf blush.
"We've got this new stallion", Orophin began explaining, to answer Aragorn's questions,"Handsome thing, blacker than coal, and faster than a dragon in the air. Probably more powerful than one, too. Oh, you've got to see this horse, Aragorn. The hooves alone are a marvel - they shine almost more than his mane, which is also-"
"Orophin", Haldir said, giving his brother a meaningful look.
"Right. Anyway, Elrohir is desperate to see him", Orophin summed up, considerably less enthusiastic than when he was talking about the stallion. Haldir shook his head at his brother and continued himself.
"The stallion was a gift to us from Galadriel", Haldir said, flashing his palms and then folding his hands together,"Orc stuff. We've got him tethered at and under the protection of the royal stables in Caras Galadrim. Can't trust a horse like that anywhere else. We are aware that no one is to leave the settlement unless it's an emergency but... If he's going to see the horse, we'd have to take Elrohir with us into to the city... "
"You can't just go and bring it back here?", Aragorn asked, reasonably.
"Around this many of our brethren's enemies?", Haldir gave a small smile," Peaceful tournament or no, I'd never bring such a creature among those southern beasts."
"We'd never be able to lift our eyes off of him," Orophin added,"A second is all they would need to swipe him. Centuries of thievery in their blood, they could disappear a mûmak up their sticky sleeves."
"In fact, we plan to transport the horse to Rivendell until we've received word that these Southern elves have passed Sutherland", Rumil added, turning over a black stone in his hand, as he approached the group.
"I see", Aragorn nodded . He sighed,"Let me see if I've got this - we're going to risk Glorfindel's wrath to spring Elrohir out of the tournament settlement and into Caras Galadrim, hours away, just so he can see a horse?"
"A shining, black stallion, actually, a very amazing-", Orophin began again.
"Yeah, yeah." Aragorn said, not really caring,"But really... Elrohir, a horse?"
"Well...", Elrohir's eyes shifted,"And..."
"And?", Aragorn prompted.
"And I must go, Aragorn.."
"What?"
Elrohir sighed, licked his lips and began the speech he'd been working over in his mind for the past fifteen minutes,"Aragorn, I know you promised Father you would look after Elladan and I to make sure that we stayed right and did everything we were supposed to here, but... this tournament means nothing to me. Nothing at all. You must know that. I honestly don't give a flying monkey's uncle who wins what and how. I mean, if we weren't legally binded to come, I wouldn't be here in a million years... it's just too boring! I'd much rather be out of here - in the forest and hunting... with them," the mournful twin said, gesturing towards the Lorien elves, who smiled at him softly. Elrohir turned his eyes up at Aragorn, pleadingly,"Please, let me go. I won't get into any trouble while I'm there, I swear it!"
Aragorn looked at his younger brother a little suspiciously. A well-behaved Elrohir was a silly enough concept to invoke a case of the giggles in even the most deplorably decorous of elves.
"Come on, Aragorn. You know you've ditched your share of mandatories in the past, too... and for less worthy reasons", Haldir said, smirking as he recalled those incidents. Elladan and Orophin smiled as they remembered, too.
Aragorn nodded silently, considering this. Elladan's presence could be used to substitute Elrohir when necessary. Such was the advantage of twins.
"Brother, please.", Elrohir begged, tilting his head to the side. His tone was serious now,"You've got to let me go, Aragorn. You know I'm going to be absolutely impossible if you don't."
"True enough", Aragorn muttered,"All right. Fine. I won't stop you if you really want to go."
"Praise Manwe!", Elrohir threw grinned first at the skies and then at his elder brother,"Thank you. I will be good, you won't regret this-"
"I hope not", Aragorn said,"But now, how are we going to get you out of here? And when? Can't this wait until after the feast?"
"Well", Elladan said,"Actually, right now might be a good time to do it because of the feast. Everyone's inside. So, we've less chance of getting caught."
Aragorn heaved a mournful sigh, knowing his brother was right,"Of course."
Elladan put an understanding hand on his elder brother's shoulder,"I know. I'm starved, too. I keep thinking of those sweet potatoes - straight from Hobbiton, best in the land. Mmm..."
Although Aragorn nodded along with his brother (because he really was hungry, too), the food was not the reason why Aragorn regretted not being able to attend the feast sooner. Sweet potatoes, thick slices of ham, and the moist, delicious bread that awaited him in heaping piles on silver platters just minutes away was tempting, of course. But mostly, Aragorn only wanted to talk more with the beautiful Prince of Mirkwood. He wanted to watch those eyes sparkling again, up close like before, and maybe ... just a little closer this time?
"Come now!", Elladan said, slapping and rubbing his hands together briskly."Anyone have a plan, then? The faster we do this, the faster Aragorn and I may eat."
Without hesitance, Aragorn first suggested they launch Elrohir over the wall via a good, firm kick in the behind and as much as the bunch admired this easeful idea - they soon began to suspect that Elrohir may not be so keen on agreement. And so, taking up space around a decaying log, they all set to thinking. After many plans were thought up, laid out before the critical eyes of the others and then swiftly scraped, there remained only one clear option.
"Look, we'll wrap him in a burlap sack, tell the the guards he's something inane and uninteresting...", Haldir began, decidedly.
"- Oh, they'll sense that -", Elladan, of course.
"- And they'll let us pass, right beneath their noses", Haldir finished.
Everyone nodded glumly in agreement. None of them liked having to conduct an escape in such a routine fashion - it was just so boring. But as of yet, this age-old tactic seemed to be the only way to go about the business of smuggling. Besides, it was going to rain soon and none of them wanted to sit around, soaking wet, inhaling the pungent horse-stench of the stables all night, just to think up a more creative plan.
"And I know just where to get the sack," Elrohir said at once.
Aragorn tried to hurry, tried desperately to jog along behind the settlement buildings to get this entire fiasco over with so that he may attend the dinner all the sooner. But his mates seemed to lag behind and as much as his logical side told his irrational side the otherwise, he could only assume that they knew what he was up to and were all bent solely on decimating all chances of his seeing Legolas later on that night and thusly, ruining his life altogether. 'Such maturity', Aragorn scolded himself.
"Quickly, now!", Aragorn whispered grumpily at his brothers and friends from up ahead.
"Oh, I hope we're not interrupting a pressing tryst, Aragorn", Haldir teased, doing nothing to alter his pace,"I know how you adore your meetings with certain shafts..."
Elladan, completely missing the innuendo, joined in,"Honestly, Aragorn, the blade practices aren't to be held until the day after tomorrow, anyway. But if you're so impatient, we may practice our swordsmanship after we feast this evening."
Haldir only chuckled, while Aragorn turned to glare before plowing onwards determinedly.
And soon enough, they reached the building that Elrohir gestured too and after peering in through a window to make sure the coast was clear, crept in through the front door. It seemed to be a kitchen storage, as large sacks of mysterious contents slumped against the walls and ridiculously large canisters of jam were sorted along the many shelves. A swift and thorough plucking through of the storage materials produced an empty burlap sack just big enough to hold Elrohir.
Critically, Rumil held the sack up against Elrohir's chest and examined the size,"Yes, I believe it will definitely do."
It was then the youths simultaneously heard the crunchy sound of twigs being crushed beneath elven boots.
"Hide!"
A small scrambling and rock-star-esque elf hair flying in every direction and seconds before the storage door swung open, all but Elrohir had suitable hiding places. The poor elf dared not breathe, his back pressed uncomfortably flat against the wall, his chest pulled up and his belly sucked in as he stood stone-still behind the door. The elf cook who argued with Glorfindel earlier in the day about the chickens stomped in with as little natural grace as any elf could muster. Still muttering of his missing birds, he failed to hear as Elrohir slipped expertly out the storage door.
Haldir, who was second nearest the door, planted squarely beside a shelf, followed next. Always a blur of silver, he left as a Cheshire cat - only his teasing grin remaining as the rest of him disappeared. Rumil and Orophin were stuck, Aragorn noticed, shooting a glance to Elladan who was crouching behind a sack along the opposing wall. So with a brazen sort of courage, Aragorn made a quick decision, gestured to Elladan and then stood up from his hiding spot in plain view. There was a pause as the kitchen chef registered the sudden appearance of a dark elf standing dangerously close to the shelves of jelly.
"AH-HAHH! Marauder!", The cook accused at the top of his everlasting lungs."You'll not get my JAM, my sweet jars of berrifulness!"
While the cooks eyes remained on Aragorn and he raged ear-splittingly about jam, Rumil took the opportunity to scramble out the door half on his knees. Sighing and noting the gesture, Elladan stood next, capturing the cooks attention to his corner of the room as Orophin escaped on the blind-side as well.
"Conspirators! Glorfindel's doing, I have not worked with such incompetence!", the chef yelled, pumping his fists angrily in the air. Haldir peeked in a few seconds later and Aragorn discreetly shooed him away. They would take the fall while Elrohir made his escape with the mischievous trio. Haldir shook his head ever amused at the crazy elfs unyielding goodness and disapparated once more.
Eight flying pots, a sedated cook and one angry Glorfindel later, Aragorn found himself sighing disheartedly over a giant, gurgling pot of dirty dish water.
"And I realize you helped all day, both of you, but I cannot have my kitchen staff compromised and I can do no favors in regards to punishments", Glorfindel was lecturing,"It simply isn't at all fair to the other contenders, to give you leave to breaking and entering and I won't even get started on what you've done to the cook - "
But not only did Glorfindel get started on the cook, Aragorn was quite certain he probably would never finish and so tuned him out. Scrubbing along beside Elladan, he forlornly tried to come to terms with the fact that he would not see his Greenleaf this night.
-------------------------- Meanwhile, At the Front Gates ---------------------------
"Hold it - What's in there?", the guard asked, pointing at the burlap. .
"Oh that?", Orophin said nervously, pointing at it as well. He gulped nervously,"Nothing."
The guard narrowed his eyes at him."Really? Well, it looks to me like a rather heavy load of nothing..."
Sensing the kind of suspicion that could lead to the discovery of Elrohir, who was packed neatly inside the burlap and thrown carelessly over the back of a horse, Rumil - not being a good liar, himself - shot Haldir: Master of Deception a look that said quite clearly, "DO something!". Haldir, that clever elf, caught on in an instant and strode confidently forward, his smirk deepening. Rumil rolled his eyes.
"What he means is 'nothing' of importance, of course", Haldir said, taking up a position beside the horse and in front of the guard. "It's actually chicken feed."
"Chicken feed?", the guard echoed, cocking an eyebrow. Rumil, looking pained, shut his eyes and lifted a hand to massage the area between his eyes.
"Yeah," Haldir smiled charmingly,"Imported straight from Rivendell."
To sort of back up his claim, Haldir lifted a hand and set it on the burlap sack while grinning proudly.
Now, by some strange coincidence, the palm of Haldir's hand landed on the part of the sack that lay directly over Elrohir's bottom. And when this became evident to Haldir - because he could feel the um.. anatomy through the material - the mischievous and smirking elf patted the spot profusely and even rubbed it a little. On the other side of the horse, the upside-down Elrohir glared at the burlap in front of his face.
Meanwhile, the guard still looked skeptical,"Oh really?"
Haldir nodded, a winning smile sparkling on his face,"Yes, actually. We had a friend of ours bring it over with him because it was on his way. Didn't have time to make the trip ourselves, you see."
Rumil was pleasantly surprised now. Privately, he resolved to never again doubt his brother's powers of deception.
The guard, only minimally paranoid by nature and wanting to get to the bottom of facts as quickly as possible so that he could return to his neglected jacks, peered at Haldir intensely for a few moments - inside him the war between jacks and honor raged on - but in the end, the guard blinked and shrugged. "All right", he said, giving in,"Seems like an awful lot of chicken feed, though.."
"Well, of course", Haldir said, looking as though the guard had said something silly,"Do you know how much it costs to have someone haul this thing through forests, and over mountains and rivers? I'm not going to pay that price six times a year, I tell you."
The guard smiled in understanding now,"It does get uncommonly expensive, this time of year.", he said, while backing up and waving them through,"Go on ahead, then."
And the three brothers and their giant sack of chicken feed passed freely through the gates, smiling innocently and waving happily at the guards, who waved happily right back.
"I thought for sure he was going to ask to see inside the bag!" Rumil said to Haldir, once they were out of earshot of the guards. Privately, Rumil had already decided to never again doubt his brother's monolithic powers of deception.
Haldir chuckled lightly in response to Rumil, while secretly thanking Elberth for the luck.
"I almost DIED under that pressure!", burst Orophin, eyes-wide. "Did you see the way he was just peering at me? Like he could see right through my head- !"
"Oh, we can all see right through your head", Rumil pretended to squint into his brother's ears.
But the banter was interrupted with a muffled cry of indignance from Elrohir,"HEY! Are we clear? Let me out now! But - not you, Haldir!"
Part Two: The Next Day
Morning sunlight began searing through Aragorn's window at about six o'clock, flashing it's blinding interruption on the youth's dry, creaky floorboards. Sleep - an activity anticipated and dearly missed, especially during the wee hours of the dawn - was chased away by the yellow glow that began seeping in past the curtains and creeping along past the lines in the floor and up onto the bed. By the time the luminous light tickled Aragorn's eyelashes, the elven youth was already awake and lying sprawled, without moving, on his back and staring up at his ceiling... - Yeah. Again.
Aragorn was wondering - from his strategically-positioned, horizontal expression of rumination upon the bed - what the odds would be that he would get dressed, run out of his room at just exactly the right moment and crash serendipitously into Legolas. He closed his eyes to get a few more dim moments to fantasize on the encounter.
As though reading his mind, the grey clouds hovering in the sky - remnants of last night's rain - moved to block the prying rays of sunlight that had entered his room and succeeded in shrouding Aragorn's chamber in a private obscurity.
'Mmm, sweet sleep.' Aragorn whispered to himself, nearly drifting off again. But in an unexpected flurry of movement, he lifted himself swiftly from his blankets and decided to greet the day now, before he could catch himself cuddling his own pillows, wrapped too comfortably in thoughts of the Greenleaf.
There were ever more chores to be done - more of his penance from the night before. But surely, he would meet the Prince at some point during his activities. And the sooner he left his room, the sooner this chance meeting would occur, he concluded, smiling.
Much as he tried, though, through-out the busy day to come across the elusive Prince of Mirkwood, his eyes remained unsatisfied by the usual Loth'lorien prettiness, which now seemed so mediocre in comparison. Everytime a blonde flash of hair danced across his peripheral vision, it only came to belong to some unknown elf, of whom he had no interest in. In a shadowy disappointment, he would return to his work. And so sullenly, he plodded across the day, completing each menial task after another, helping to setup the last few bits of preparations before practices began the next day.
At long last, his anticipated meeting came in quite the most unexpected way...
"Aragorn?", that dear, sweet sound echoed in the manure-gritty barn.
Aragorn paused, gulped and turned to see Legolas standing in the small pool of sunlight a window allowed through the roof. Glowing, slender beauty smiling sweetly at him.
"Legolas", he managed to smile without looking like the deranged fool he felt like,"Hello."
Legolas smiled back briefly and looked towards the bucket Aragorn was holding,"Am I interrupting? I can go - "
"No, no, it's fine", Aragorn assured him, as he set the bucket down and dusted his hands off. They looked grimey and lined in sludge. He wiped them off as best as he could with a rag pulled from his back pocket.
Legolas seated himself on a bale of hay and gave a friendly smile."Glorfindel told me you would be in here. I didn't see you at the feast last night and wondered what happened..."
"Ah, well - "
Legolas continued, his eyes laughing,"He said you broke into the pantry and stole a chicken?"
Aragorn laughed, while Legolas grinned and continued,"Such a curious crime, I wondered - did you have something against this particular chicken or do you just prefer to hunting savagely for your dinner in storages?"
"Nothing of the sort... We were in need of a dress for my brother, Elrohir", Aragorn explained as he sat beside Legolas,"He has a certain fondness for burlap sacks..."
"Wearing burlap sacks?", Legolas inquired.
"Given the occasion..."
"What occasion, might I ask?"
"Sneaking out of the compound."
It was Legolas's turn to chuckle,"So you missed the feast to dress your brother in burlap, and send him out into the forest with a chicken?"
"Very nearly", Aragorn smiled,"The chicken came along of its own accord, you see."
The two youths shared another bout of laughter, which died away into silence as they became aware of the other's closeness. They looked at each other for a while, trading glances and feigning interest in strands of hay sticking out beside their knees.
Finally, it was Legolas who broke the silence, being unable to blush any brighter than he already was. "Maybe I can help you."
"Help me?", Aragorn could not think what Legolas was talking about. In truth, between you and I, he could not think at all, actually.
"Glorfindel said you were assigned consequential chores for last nights occurrence...", Legolas said, moving away and taking up the bucket Aragorn set down."I don't think I have any experience with this sort of thing, but I would not mind learning, if you would not mind teaching."
It would be an understatement to tell you all that Aragorn was more than happy to teach anything Legolas wanted to learn. And it just so happened that the care of horse's was one of Aragorn's most treasured subjects, being of equestrial relation himself - in the sense that he liked oats very much.
"It would be a pleasure."
By sunset, the two had talked themselves dry on every subject under Anor - but continued along, stretching every possible 'lesson' on horse care. Aragorn told Legolas of his family and vice versa through-out the afternoon, each chuckling as the other told his own tale of cruel and unusual exasperation caused by relatives.
Legolas learned of Aragorn's twin brothers, who were so similiar and yet different in their own little ways. And Aragorn learned of the King and Queen of Mirkwood and their tendency to relocate trees standing too near the Prince's windows, for measurements of safety.
"So that you won't climb out and escape?", Aragorn asked, incredulous, as they brushed down the horses.
"So the branches won't slither in and sadistically poke me to death, I should assume," Legolas replied, as he combed gently down a colt's mane. He paused as a sudden idea came to his mind. With a small hesitation, he said,"Aragorn?"
"Yes?"
"Do you think, perhaps, I could ride one of these horses?"
Aragorn smiled a slow smile that Legolas had already begun to admire.
"I think we can arrange that."
Together, the two led a horse from the barn and into the fields to begin Legolas's riding lessons. For the Prince had never before had the privilege of riding a full-grown stallion by himself - though he learned quickly enough.
And there was laughter once more, that sparkling laughter from Legolas that echoed through the forest, fluttering the wings of birds, the leaves of the trees and even the heart of a quiet on-looker.
Soft, shimmery sapphire eyes flashed enviously from the rooftop of a barn, very near to the fields. Tirinien watched, from his perch, the on-goings of the compound, taking special interest in the Prince of Mirkwood. His gaze, though it wandered, never strayed too far from the Greenleaf.
For part of the afternoon, he'd been looking on as Legolas and the dark son of Lord Elrond flirted sickeningly through-out the stables and the fields.
Mostly, though, he'd thought endlessly about the exchange he'd had with Cudagor the night before - impatient with himself as he realized and contemplated harshly his own horrifying error.
Perhaps, if he'd remained quiet, he would not have sparked such a rage in the southern elf - a rage, he knew, which caused Cudagor's limited mind and boundless ego to pool such determination in pursuing the Prince. And now, if his guesses were correct, as they mostly were, he would now have the moral obligation of keeping an eye out for the Prince's safety. Not an easy endeavor - to watch the object of your affection be courted by another, while simultaneously half-shielding him from a salivating beast.
But Tirinien was not one to show much emotion, anyway - certainly not the sort of emotion he found himself falling victim to as of late. He could in no way have made the Prince so happy as he seemed then, riding a brawny steed, smiling more glorious than the sunshine.
'That laughter would never have been caused by one such as I, Tirinien reasoned internally, and if I cannot bring forth such radiance from him myself, then it would be better to leave him to one who can.'
But more than anything, as his current position proved, he wished no harm to come to the Prince of Mirkwood. Most especially if that harm was in any way caused by himself.
And so the silent elf watched, dutifully and resolutely, into the late evening from aloft until finally, the two elves parted ways beneath the light of a ripe moon. Tirinien looked towards the heavens quickly, in a quiet thanks that he did not have to bear witness of a kiss.
Swiftly, hopping along the rooftops, stealthily as any Galadrim assassin, he followed Legolas to make sure that he got to his room safely. He watched, amusement in his eyes, when he saw for a moment Legolas's confusion as people the Prince passed whipped their heads around after him. Such innocence.
Finally Legolas made it safely into his building, and out of sight. His work for the evening had finished.
Tirinien stood up, took one last scan around and nimbly slid off the side of the roof he was on, held the edge of the gutter for a split second and landed squarely onto his feet at ground-level. And just as he made to round the corner, a pair of angry steel-grey eyes appeared before him and another elf dropped down behind him, securing his arms across his back.
Two seconds.
"Enjoy the show?"
It's been years, but I'm TRYING to finish.. :( Anyone there?