Lynx: Wow! Fourth chappie already! And thank you to my wonderful reviewers! (Author's Note: I have changed the name of the tauren capital and of Amros' brother… I didn't like them. Malthen Taur-Elvirin and Beren-Amondel)
Legolas: I am missing my late night dessert for this… You better give us something good…
Lynx: Is that a threat I hear?
Laure: OoOoOoOo someone's gonna bite the dust.
Legolas: … women…
Haldir: They are a gift from the Valar!
Legolas: Are you sure?
Lynx: Rawr. That's it I'm gonna make sure you die in this story!
Legolas: What! I was kidding! Yes they are a gift from the Valar please don't kill me! (Sob)
Lynx: Men… so fickle…
Laure: They are a gift from the devil.
Haldir: That's not very nice…
Lunch went quickly, as did the food on the tables. Laure kept her mouth shut most of the time, with the exception of course to put food in it, but she barely spoke to King Thranduil or his son. The only moments that she did was when a question was addressed to her, but even then she gave the shortest answer possible. Several times during the occasion she had to catch herself before she spoke in her normal intonation, which was too feminine for her disguise.
"Was the food enjoyable, Prince Valandil?" Thranduil asked as he sat back in his chair.
"Please, just Valandil is fine." Laure smiled softly, "The food was excellent, thank you."
"Good." Thranduil seemed satisfied with her reply; "Then we shall leave to my study and discuss these matters of war."
Laure nodded before following Thranduil's example and standing.
"Ion nin, would you like to accompany us?" The king addressed Legolas with a hopeful voice.
Legolas thought for a moment before he shrugged in response, "I don't see why not."
Thranduil began to make his way towards the grand doors, Laure walking slowly in his wake. She once again had to ignore the stares she received and some of the comments her sensitive ears picked up.
"Don't let them intimidate you." Legolas' voice suddenly cut through her thoughts like a knife. Laure looked over to find that he now walked alongside her. "They are not used to visitors of your race." Legolas looked away momentarily, disturbed at how racial that sounded to him.
Laure grinned slightly at this, finding some humour in how father and son did think a lot alike. "I understand where they're coming from. No need for apologies, I've already gotten plenty of those."
Legolas smiled and nodded in agreement. He carried himself very gracefully and walked with long strides, his chin parallel with that of the marble floor. His jaw was level with the top of Laure's head; he was generally the same height as Valandil himself.
When they reached the sanctuary of the hallway, Thranduil veered off to the right and led them down a corridor lit by flaming torches instead of the steady beat of the sunlight, for this hall was leading towards the inner sanctums of the palace. Their footsteps echoed softly against the ancient walls, sending chills down Laure's spine.
"Welcome to my study, Valandil."
Laure suddenly found herself standing in the doorway of Thranduil's study, heavily flourished with scarlet silken seats, a sparking fireplace, and a grand oak desk, polished until it was gleaming.
Thranduil walked to his desk, his footfalls muted by the softness of the scarlet rug. He shoved back all the papers littering the desktop as Legolas made his way over to a comfortable seat near the fireplace.
Laure adjusted her cloak slightly and took a seat across from the Prince of Mirkwood, busying herself with her hands so she would not have to make eye contact with any of them.
"Straight to the facts, Prince Valandil, what is it that you wish to bring to my attention?" Thranduil said with his eyes flickering routinely over a portrait on the wall of a beautiful woman with hair like sunflowers and eyes like the ocean. Laure automatically assumed that it was the wife he had lost some time ago. She couldn't assume much more because she had never heard the story in detail.
"About the war, your majesty…" Laure replied dryly, knowing full well that the outcome of this conversation depended on her political skills. "I dare say that we both see it as unnecessary, do we not?"
"Aye, that much can be said." Thranduil nodded in agreement, "Many people have fallen needlessly because of neither ruler's willingness to surrender… but this war is much more to your father than it is to me."
Laure frowned inwardly at this; it made absolutely no sense! How could such a gentle and compromising man be the warlord she had heard so much about? How could King Thranduil be her uncle's killer? Amondel had been Amros' older brother and the ideal heir to the throne before he was killed in battle by Thranduil's sword. Now here was Thranduil, standing before her not as a merciless murderer, but a fair king and leader who had lost a member of his own family, his lovely wife.
"True as that is, being a King, he must understand that the sacrifices must end." Laure countered suddenly after a moment of thought. "The real reason to this war has been lost and buried under many veils of revenge and a thirst for victory and many people are dying because of it. Husbands, brothers, cousins, uncles, fathers… all have died and many have suffered for it."
"And yet we still wage war." Legolas gave an afterthought. "I see where this is going… you wish for a truce? A treaty?"
Laure nodded; "Correct, I propose a pact and perhaps an alliance if we are in agreement."
"An alliance you say?" Thranduil raised a dark eyebrow. "Bold is that request, considering the circumstances."
"One cannot always take the most discreet and rational paths of life." Laure smiled slightly at this. "The act of forwardness can sometimes be the difference between life and death."
"I suppose that you speak with experience?" Thranduil responded graciously.
Laure concurred with a tilt of her head, "I do."
Thranduil sank into a seat beside his son, silently weighing the pros and cons in his head.
"I will have to think about this." He finally concluded. "I will get back to you as soon as the decision is made."
Laure forced a grin to her face. "Take as much time as you please, my lord." What were a few more days here in the ultimate place of doom for a tauren? It would be a piece of cake... or so Laure hoped...
"I shall. In the meantime, feel free to make yourself at home." Thranduil stood once again. "I will see you at dinner I presume. Good day, Prince Valandil. Good day, my son."
With that he left the room, his footsteps disappearing down the hall.
"Perhaps I ought to show you the gardens." Legolas suddenly suggested, "I'm sure that you have nothing else to do with your time."
"Now that you mention it that sounds like a superb idea." Laure said as she pulled herself to her feet, brushing a stray lock of mahogany hair from her face.
"Splendid, it's this way, if you will." Legolas gestured to the door, silently requesting that she go first.
"That elf maiden…" Laure inclined her head at the portrait Thranduil had been examining as she stepped towards the door. "She is the Queen, if I'm not mistaken."
"No, you are correct." Legolas said, closing the door behind them as they left. His tone held a touch of sorrow to it, giving Laure an idea of what had occurred.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything; it's none of my business." Laure apologized.
Legolas simply smiled as they began to walk down the hallway to the left. After a moment of peace with nothing but the sounds of the flickering torches and their light footsteps, he broke the silence. "I don't remember much of my mother… she died when I was young, but a mere child."
Laure could think of nothing to say at the moment, so she remained quiet, waiting for him to continue.
"Ethereal, she was, though I hardly recall the sound of her voice or what she enjoyed." His tone held such affection and sadness that it hurt Laure to know that she had brought it upon herself to remind him. "Father likes to talk about her a lot, and I enjoy listening. He used to weep when the incident was still fresh in our minds, but now I think that he just imagines that she sailed to the White Shores rather than being killed. Though sometimes I can hear his sobs late at night when he thinks that no one is awake."
"The White Shores…?" Laure inquired, preferring him to speak of something more cheerful. "What are those?"
"Valinor…" Legolas replied with a faraway look in his eyes of azure. "The place where elves go when their time comes to leave Middle-earth. They take the grey ships and sail to meet their loved ones who have already gone. I believe that my father already feels the sea longing, though he stays out of duty to his people. He will most likely leave when I become king, just as his father did."
Laure nodded in response as they now strolled smoothly down the granite steps of the palace, squinting when the sunlight beamed down on them from the clear sky.
Legolas began to lead her down a path that led around the palace towards the back.
"We share one thing in common, Prince Legolas." Laure announced as she watched the lovely houses pass them by.
"What would that be?"
"My mother died when I was young also, just learning basic swordplay." Laure nearly winced as a fresh wave of anger washed over her. "The city we used to live in was… overrun."
Legolas made a soft noise of recognition, but made no further attempt to recall the event.
"It was just a few years after I… after my youngest sister, Laure, was born, Artanis was just beginning to learn the ways of a lady." Laure said taking from the stories she had heard from both her father and her brother growing up. "My father was nearly consumed by the grief, and for a while he refused to speak about it. I think he's nearly over it now, but he's got a few ways to go. How did your mother die, if you don't mind me asking…?"
"She was going for a short horseback ride when she came across a band of orcs… I never got to see her body, but I vividly remember the blood." Legolas closed his eyes momentarily as they walked, as if willing the memories away.
"I'm sorry."
"As am I for you."
Laure smiled and let her gaze fall upon the entrance to the gardens, symbolized by a few well-placed berry bushes.
They stepped in and ceased walking so Laure could look. Her mouth opened in awe, it was the most beautiful garden she had ever seen and it was the size of an entire village. There were many stone fountains with elegant carvings of elves and animals, the water spouting out and sparkling under the sunlight. Littering the grassy ground were patches of wild and exotic flowers. She counted sunflowers, blossoms, roses, violets, and her favourite: lilies. Weaving through the bushes and flowers were gravel paths that led away into a deep thicket with tall birch and evergreen trees.
"Your kind certainly has a gift for maintaining greenery. It's magnificent." Laure offered tentatively, her breath having been stolen.
"The elves consider them selves one with the earth." Legolas explained, softly caressing the nearest tree, "We speak to trees, we hear their thoughts, we feel their emotions."
"What is that like?" Laure asked, catching the scent of a nearby rose, "I don't think I could ever imagine talking to a tree."
"It's phenomenal." Legolas replied, "We can hear their voiceless thoughts in our minds, almost like a foreign language that only the beholder and the receiver can understand."
"You're making me envious." Laure gave a cocky smile.
Legolas gave a small laugh, "But what I wouldn't give for one of those tails."
"An extra appendage can be both a blessing and a curse." Laure smirked, her orange, black-tipped tail swishing lazily to the side; "You certainly can't sleep on your back."
Together, their laughter filled the garden and merged with the chirping of the late afternoon birds.
Anaro paced his bedroom quarters, his silvery blonde eyebrows knitted together in deep thought. With one hand on his chin and another on his hip, he made another round about his room.
"That Prince Valandil… something is off with him." Anaro frowned, halting his pacing to stare out his balcony window. "What is he hiding…? I will find out."
He noticed sometimes the change in pitch of Valandil's voice, and it was peculiar to Anaro. He noticed how Valandil walked awkwardly for a man and how apprehensive he looked when he thought no one was watching. He was peculiarly lacking in height for a male, too... These traits did not add up to the picture properly, and the elf captain knew he would have to unearth the enigma that was Valandil for the sake of Mirkwood, lest it be a threat.
Anaro hurriedly strolled to his door and exited the room, his day cloak billowing out behind him as he rushed.
In the hall, five minutes down from his door, he ran into the exact person he was looking for.
"Renwe." The elf being addressed immediately stopped walking and turned his head of dark hair to look at Anaro.
"Yes captain?" The soldier cautiously inquired, a confused look settling in his hazel eyes at being called upon off-duty.
"You know of the tauren our patrol brought here yesterday?"
"Yes, captain, you speak of Prince Valandil." Renwe replied, turning the rest of his body so he faced Anaro completely.
Anaro looked up and down the corridor before he leaned forward and whispered, "I wish for you to keep a very close eye on him. Do not let him go anywhere without being under surveillance. I do not care who is watching him, as long as there is someone."
"Yes, captain." Renwe bowed his head slightly in respect, "But even into his bedchambers?"
"Everywhere." Anaro answered curtly, "Understood?"
"Yes captain." Renwe bowed his head once again before hurrying off down the hall.
"I will discover your secret, Valandil." Anaro swore under his breath, "I shall not rest until I do.
Lynx: OoOoOoOoOoOoOo is she going to be found out? OoOoOoOOoOoOoOo
Laure: That's annoying.
Lynx: Put a damper on the cliffhanger will you?
Legolas: I'm too sexy for my shirt. Too sexy for my shirt. So sexy it hhuuurrrrrtttsss. (Dancing along with the song by Right Said Fred)
Haldir: … (Hurriedly moves away and hides behind Lynx)
Lynx: (chirps) Review please!