CH11 – Legolas' Princeling Ass

The sun was just rising as Legolas briskly walked down the hallways of Mirkwood. He was making his way to his father's office for Thranduil requested his presents. However, Legolas's mind was swarming. It wasn't often that Thranduil sent for him so early in the morning. This, of course, lead the Prince to think that his father was aware of his—and Arryin's—late night eavesdropping. He just hoped this reprimand was not as harsh as the rest.

The Mirkwood Prince sighed at this thought, for he remembered when he was a young ellon and his Ada was not as strict and cold hearted. Thranduil had had a light in his eyes—guided with a happiness that stemmed from his wife. But alas, those times were long gone.

When Legolas arrived at his dreaded destination, he causally opened the door and stepped into the room. "Ada (father)? You wished to see me?"

Thranduil nodded but he did not lift his head, for he was gently pouring hot wax onto the bottom of a letter and pressing the Thranduilion seal onto it. When he finished his task, the king looked up at his son. "Legolas, there is something I would like to discuss with you."

The Prince frowned but waited patiently for his father to continue.

"You have been falling behind."

Legolas' scowl deepened and he opened his mouth to speak but Thranduil did not let him. Instead, the king spoke with a harsh and commanding tone. "As the Prince of this Kingdom, you need to keep up with appearances. I will not have a son who is lax with the rules of his sector. Is this understood?"

Legolas felt anger arise, "What do you mean by that?! My warriors are the most advanced. They have the highest rankings and killing rates—"

King Thranduil stood from his seat and interrupted him, "Tell me about the Ranger, the one who is always cloaked in black.

Legolas raised an eyebrow at his father for he was surprised by the quick change in subject. "Arryin? What more do you desire to know that you know not of already?"

Thranduil gave his son a stern look as a warning to stop with the bullshit, for they both knew that Legolas understood his father's question.

Legolas sighed in annoyance, "She is an exceptionally skilled warrior with direct precision in combat. She doesn't hesitate with the kill."

The Mirkwood King exhaled in exasperation, "Not her skills, Legolas." He paused, "She has a fiery temper and no concern for authority and you know it."

Legolas shook his head as he moved towards the long, brown-colored sofa. He plopped down on it, letting the familiar feeling of leather sink into his skin. "Yes, she is very independent, but she gets along well with most of the sector and neutralizes a fair amount of enemies in the field."

Thranduil picked up a crystal glass and began to pour the contents of a forest colored bottle into it. He took a sip before sitting down across from his son, "I need you to watch her and report back to me."

Legolas was taken aback by this statement. He knew from last night that his father was digging for information on her. However, he did not expect Thranduil to go as far as asking him to spy on her. "Ada (father), I know your opinion of her is not high—excluding your evaluation of her fighting skills—but that doesn't mean she is a threat."

Thranduil's face twisted into one of anger, for he was vexed by his son's response. He then spoke, words contorted with hissing resentment. "She is a stranger in my kingdom. I put her on the guard so she would be kept under control! You are the Prince of Mirkwood and this is your duty." Thranduil grinded his teeth again while leaning forward. "I am your king and you must obey me!"

Legolas' heart was filled with anger as he rose from the cushioning quickly. His tone was laced with shock, fury, and aggravation. "I am your son! Your own flesh and blood! Your kin!"

Thranduil looked into his son's eyes and he knew what Legolas was trying to say. He was unhappy with the way his father was treating him and ruling the kingdom. He did not approve of his methods. But Thranduil knew, all too well, that it was the only way to keep his people safe. The harsh orders and direct commands, the strict regime and joyless retorts—it had a purpose, for Thranduil could not withstand losing the last of his family. Therefore, he had to do his due diligence. He had to investigate this threat. He had to unearth Arryin's weakness.

The Elven King stood up and moved towards his son. "Legolas, you will respect me and my decisions."

The Prince scoffed and shook his head. Seemingly done with his father's attitude, he turned towards the door to make his leave. However, something stopped him. He paused and stared at the door, debating whether or not he should speak his thought.

Legolas turned back to face his father. "Ever since Naneth (mother) died your heart has turned cold."

Thranduil's lips parted for he was not expecting that and, quite frankly, he did not know how to respond. Instead, he watched as his son stormed out the room in furry, leaving the Elven King behind with those harsh words.

...

Arryin walked onto the training fields, basking in the early rays of the morning sun. It had just risen and the gentle beams did not hesitate to brush upon the soft, dew-covered grass. Alongside this was the gentle breeze, for it whispered lightly against her skin while the forest birds' song danced upon her ears. She could not help but smile. Arryin took a moment to really take in these feelings for she truly felt content and at peace. The Ranger didn't want to admit it but as time went on, her desire to leave Mirkwood began to fade. As much as she missed the freedom of roaming the lands of Arda, this elven kingdom truly was a beautiful place. Besides, she had begun to make friends here. And, to top it all off, she had access to unlimited resources—knowledge, warmth, drink, food. As that thought crossed her mind, she brought the green apple she held to her lips.

Not many elves were up at this hour so the training field was empty—save a few warriors. Legolas, Beyla, Belanor, and herself were meant to meet for a smaller sparing practice given that techniques often got lost in the chaos of hundreds of guards training at once.

Arryin made her way towards Legolas, who was perched upon a large rock. He held a long silver sword in his hand as he used the other to run a metal file across its edge.

"New weapon?" Arryin questioned causally as she dumped her bag next to him.

Legolas dipped his head, "Aye, it was forged in Lothlórien—it's a beauty, don't you think?"

Arryin hummed in response as she took the last bite of her fruit—savoring the sour taste. The Ranger then proceeded to throw the core into the forest behind them.

Legolas sent her a scolding look.

"What? It will decompose. Beside, it's good nutrients for the plants."

The Prince raised his brow, "What do you know of plants?"

Arryin snorted, "Well, I didn't survive on my own for my entire life without knowledge of natural apothecary."

Legolas rolled his eyes at her sarcastic response, but really, what else was he expecting? Besides, she was right. From what he knew, she lived her years exploring the lands of Arda and for that she would indeed have vast knowledge of plant life and survival skills. You couldn't be a ranger without it.

The elf was drawn from his short contemplation by the sound of popping bones. Arryin was twisting her form in attempt to loosen her muscles and the resulting sound that emitted from her was much louder than normal.

"Is your body stiff from slacking at practice, Mellon Nin (my friend)?"

"I am not the one who has been slacking, Princeling," She retorted.

A loud chuckle sounded in his chest, for he was very much so amused. "Princeling?" He questioned.

The dark-haired elf scoffed, "That is what you are, is it not?"

A grin formed upon his face as he shook his head in amusement. He was quite grateful for Arryin's playful tone for it began to wash away the vexation from his father. However, their playful banter was interrupted by a light voice calling out to them.

"Man erin, mellyn nin (Good morning, my friends)!"

The two turned to see Beyla waving as her, Belanor, and Rowan approached.

"Man erin (good morning), Beyla," Legolas responded with a gentle smile.

Upon arrival, the dark-skinned she-elf began to dig through her satchel while starting simple conversation. "How was the meeting with your father?"

The Prince snorted as the irritation of Thranduil's words returned to him. "Well, you know Ada..."

Beyla scrunched up her face, "That bad, huh?"

Legolas sighed and shrugged because, in the simplest terms, what were you gonna do?

As everyone settled in and prepped their weapons and bodies, Rowan raised his sword. "Who's first?"

Belanor laughed lightly as he put his hand on the hilt of his elven steel, "Mellon (friend), be prepared to loose."

Legolas rolled his eyes at their antics.

The two elves stood approximately ten feet apart with their weapons ready. Belanor charged first, his sword clashing against the amber-haired elf's blade. As they continued swing and twisting, the sounds of metal echo throughout the open space. Disturbing the peace if you must say.

Rowan quickly ducked as the light-haired elf's weapon danced above his head—just barely missing him.

"You are getting slow," Belanor stated teasingly.

Rowan's threw a punch into Belanor's gut and took that opportunity to crashed his sword against Belanor's.

"Oh, how wrong you are," Rowan taunted.

Belanor broke the locked hold and made a move for his friend's legs. However, it did indeed appeared that he was the one who was too slow, for the amber-haired warrior's knee came into contact with Belanor's groin.

Arryin smirked. Now, that's gotta hurt.

Belanor immediately buckled at the pain as his hands flew to protect his 'oh so precious package.' He then released an aggravated moan while curling into himself.

A collective laugh from the onlookers erupted for there was no denying the comical natural of the situation.

Rowan pat the distressed elf on the shoulder as he walked past him. "You should be more careful next time, Mellon nin (my friend). It seems you were distracted by your ego."

Belanor groaned once again but had enough energy to rolled his grey eyes at his friend. He then waddled towards the large rock. He desperately needed a couple moments to recover.

Beyla giggled at his miserable expression. "Would you like me to fetch some ice for that?"

"If you weren't normally such a sweet soul, I would hate you." Belanor responded, which only caused Beyla to let out another airy laugh.

Arryin, still grinning, walked into the center of their circle twirling her twin silver blades. Legolas observed her smug persona and was about to stand and meet her, but the sound of a familiar voice stopped him.

"Do you mind if I join?"

All the elves' heads turned to see Edyrm, a member of their sector.

Arryin opened her arms to gesture for him to enter. A smile crept onto her lips as she spoke to him. "Edyrm, I will warn you, I won't go easy on you."

The brown-haired ellon chuckled lightly. "I would not expect you too."

Legolas narrowed his eyes at the young ellon for he felt an irritation arise in his chest.

Edyrm planted his feet firmly into the ground, only a short distance away from the Ranger. He then unsheathed his sword and stood ready. Arryin nodded and Edyrm lunged forward.

The green-eyed elleth, quick and fluid with her movements, somersaulted out of the way. She then sprung off the ground, sending her body high into the air, just as his blade swung at her legs. He missed. Arryin twisted her wrist to slice at his side but he parried the blow. Their weapons continued to collide and clank as the fight went on.

It wasn't long before Edyrm saw an opening in her defenses. It was then when he got the upper hand. He kicked Arryin's feet out from under her and she instantly fell towards the ground, but not before grasping his tunic and pulling him with her. Both of their blades slipped from their grasp as they wrestled for dominance.

Edyrm, who was currently straddling the Ranger, spoke with a taunting tone. "I thought you said you wouldn't go easy on me?"

Legolas felt angry heat enclose around himself. He could not help but cross his arms and clench his jaw, for the scene before him ignited resentment and bitterness deep within his soul. He did not approve of Edyrm's positioning and words, and he did not like what was unfolding.

The demeanor of the blue-eyed elf did not escape the attention of Belanor. The pained second-in-command quickly made the connection as to why the Prince's muscles tensed and his expression hardened. Belanor desperately tried to hold back the smirk that tugged at his lip. If anything was an indication of his friend's growing feelings, this was it. It was obvious that Legolas was possessive of her—even if Legolas himself didn't recognize it yet.

While these thoughts strung about Belanor and Legolas' minds, Arryin responded to Edyrm. "Yeah I did say that, didn't I?"

She reached one arm out and grasped Edyrm's dark locks and yanked...hard. He let out a small yelp and fell sideways as Arryin reached out—feeling the ground for her long silver dagger. As soon as her hand grasped the hilt, she rolled over and brought the blade to Edyrm's neck. He froze in defeat.

"I win." Arryin stated with a smirk.

She then stood up and held a hand out to the dark haired ellon who took it gratefully.

As the morning went on, the group of elves were joined by the rest of their sector, along with others, to hone their skills and practice their combat techniques. During so, Legolas made it his mission to go hard on Edyrm. He made sure to embarrass him with quick defeats and curt comments. The brown-haired ellon was desperately trying to stay on his feet the whole day.

This was of course amusing to Belanor because oh boy, Legolas was unhappy with him alright.

...

It was the late afternoon when Thranduil was reading through patrol reports in his office. However, the appreciated silence did not last long given that a gleeful shriek followed by a deep chuckle echoed throughout the corridors.

The King blew hot air threw his nose for he could recognize that deep laugh anywhere.

What was Legolas doing?

Thranduil was obviously still angry about his son's outburst earlier that morning and, quite frankly, he did not have the patience to deal with whatever shenanigans this was. So, he opted to ignore it and focus on the important matters at hand: the increasing spider attacks. He was well aware that he had to double patrols before the vile creatures overtook the forest completely. The King refused to lose his Kingdom to disgraceful, oversized, hairy spiders who—

The sound of stomping and laughter interrupted his thoughts.

A pissed off, feminine voice loudly called out, "Legolas! I am warning you...I will kick your princeling ass!"

Princeling ass? Thranduil questioned.

The teasing tone of his son retorted the comment. "Oh yeah? Want to place a wager on that, Dilthen Er (little one)?"

Thranduil grinded his teeth and rolled his eyes into the back of his head. He sucked in a deep breath before taking a very long moment to release it in frustration.

He began mumbling under his breath as he stood. "This is what I was referring to when I said 'not doing your duties.'"

Once again, the pitter patter of feet running up the stairs echoed amongst the stone and angry yelling from the elleth followed.

By the Valor, elves are gifted with the ability to be light on their feet. Why was this stomping necessary?!

Thranduil growled slightly as annoyance seeped into the air around him. His son, even for being over two thousand years old, was still acting like a child. Did he not have concern for his reputation?!

"Oh dear me!" Elbereth, Legolas's prior nanny, called out and the sound of a basket dropping followed suit. "Legolas! Be careful my boy!"

Thranduil closed his eyes and let out another deep breath.

Of course he knew Legolas joked around with his sector, but this seemed to be more prominent and out of character. At least beforehand it was an adult-like banter, not whatever this nonsense was.

The King marched out of his office, the door slamming behind him, and stormed down the hall.

When he began to ascend the stairs, he had to resist the urge to scream, for he saw Elbereth picking up freshly washed sheets and placing them back into a basket. How could his son be so...so rude irresponsible, and inconsiderate?!

"I apologize, Elbereth—for my son's behavior."

She let out a light laugh, "My King, it is quite alright. I have been dealing with it since he was a young ellon. Besides, it is good to see him smile again. However, I would say it has been a while since he was this mischievous." She said the last sentence with a wink.

Thranduil frowned at her words and continued up the steps.

As he went through the halls and corridors, the yelling and banging increased. However, it wasn't until he realized the bickering was coming from his own private washroom that anger rushed through his blood. The King grinded his teeth, desperately trying to remain calm.

"Give it back! Now!" The woman hollered.

Thranduil quietly stepped into the doorway and the scene before him was revealed. His son and the elleth, which he recognized as the wayward ranger, were scrambling about the room. They didn't seem to notice his presence.

Thranduil crossed his arms and clenched his jaw while he opted to observe for the time being.

Legolas' back was now pressed up against one of the large pillars and his arm was held high above his head. A silver throwing star was burried in his grasp and a smirk plastered across his elven features. Arryin, on the other hand, was leaning against his chest with a face full of rage. She was slightly jumping in attempt snatch to the weapon, that most likely was hers, from Thranduil's son's hand. But, because of her short hight she was nowhere near being able to seize it.

"Legolas," She threatened. "I swear to the Valar, if you do not give it back to me right now you will deeply regret it."

The Prince released a loud, rumbling laugh and replied to her with a taunt. "What are you gonna do about it?! You. Cant. Reach."

The infuriated she-elf narrowed her eyes at him.

Without warning, she grasped his other arm and, with immense force, judo flipped Legolas over her shoulder.

Much to Thranduil's dismay, the Elven Prince went flying through the air, right into the deep pool of water with a big splash.

Thranduil sighed. Lovely.

Legolas rose to the surface gasping for breath for surprise had most definitely caught him. His previously neat blonde hair was entirely spread across his face like a drenched mop while his white tunic stuck to his skin.

Arryin snorted in amusement at the sight of her sector leader.

Legolas, with dancing eyes, swam towards the ledge. He rested his elbows against it and held the silver weapon out to her. "Here."

She rolled her emerald orbs and made her way towards him. Just as she reached for it, Legolas grasped her wrist and yanked her into the blue water.

The Ranger instantly came to the surface spluttering while Legolas was howling with laughter. With a provoked exasperated tone she railed a crude comment at him. "Auta miqula orq, Ud'Raan (Go kiss an orc, Asshole)."

Legolas' chuckling only increased at her response.

The Mirkwood King decided to take this moment to reveal his presence. He walk to the edge of the pool and, with crossed arms, clearing his throat loudly.

"Which one of you would like to explain this to me?"

The two drenched elves looked up at him with wide eyes and parted lips.

Oh no.