Lynx: Holy crap! It seems like forever since I've last updated this baby! Well then my readers (if indeed you are still my readers, not having lost interest after my little hiatus…) I will apologize humbly for the interruption of updates. I've been really tied down with other things lately, such as school beginning and the whole bit. I hope you guys can forgive me and find it in your hearts to read this chapter… what am I saying…? … READ THE CHAPTER!! RAWWRRR!!
Legolas: (cowers away behind Haldir who is cowering behind Laure) She is frightening…
Haldir: (cowering away behind Laure) Agreed…
Laure: … Men are such cowards… (rolls eyes)
Lynx: (hisses at the three) I can't threaten people properly when you three are blabbering away behind my back! SO SHUT UP!! RAWR!
Legolas/Laure/Haldir: (take three steps back)
Laure: (goes and hides behind Legolas)
Haldir: So much for men being the cowards… (glares at Laure but backs off when Lynx gives him the laser eye glare)
Lynx: Now is anyone going to give my disclaimer? Anyone? ANYONE!!??
Legolas: (shakes head vigourously and points at Haldir)
Haldir: Betrayer… (Glare) … fine I'll do it… Disclaimer: the usual nonsense about Lynx not owning the property of J.R.R. Tolkien and blah blah blah… Can I have my tea and crumpets now?
Lynx: RAWR!!
(and if you did not figure already, this story takes place before the War of the Ring, quite a few years prior actually…)
Intense silver-grey eyes watched lazily as the dark red liquid sloshed back and forth inside the crystal glass sparkling in the spotted rays of sunlight. Powerful lips thinned slightly in deep thought, the slight breeze going unnoticed as it combed through fine blond hair and thick foliage of leaves and grass.
The glass was raised, the perfectly smooth edge bracing his bottom lip as he tipped the wine lightly into his mouth. Settling his arm back down upon the marble rail to rest beside his other, Thranduil did not swallow immediately; rather he chose to savour the taste for a moment's time.
His hard eyes squinted discreetly as they stopped to follow a figure below, his throat constricting to take down the cool liquid. A small smirk spread on his lips, the figure a blatant reminder of his forthcoming conquering of his opposition… his nemesis…
Amros… Lord Amros… the title almost made Thranduil want to laugh. Such a soft-hearted fool did not deserve such an honourable title… Titles as such were reserved for the cunning and the worthy, for those with rational minds and no room for petty compassion. Compassion was for the weak… Compassion was for the cowards unable to attain their goals.
Thranduil had no use for such trivial things as compassion. As a warlord and a king, he needed to be ruthless and powerful; he needed to make sure that no one would dare challenge his place. Such a way of living would also secure a good future for Legolas as king. He would be known as the son of the great King Thranduil, as he himself had been known as the son of the great King Oropher until he had harvested his own reputation.
Amros was inadequate and his son, the almighty Prince of War, would soon follow in his father's flimsy steps.
Rhûn will fall at his feet…
Thranduil could not help his grin from growing as cobalt blue eyes, intense as his own, flickered up to meet his. Taking another delicate sip of his wine, Thranduil sat back on his heels upon his bedroom balcony and watched as his only son stared up at him resentfully from his position before the gates to Mirkwood Palace.
'Yes…' Thranduil thought to himself smugly, the taste of fine wine still fresh upon his tongue, 'Rhûn will fall…'
It was not but five minutes later following his brief preparation did Legolas find himself before the grand gates, waiting with baited breath.
This was wrong… so mortifyingly wrong that it tore at his heart and left a nauseous feeling to his stomach in its wake…
Subconsciously, he felt a strong gaze upon his back, forcing him to turn his head and look over his shoulder. He searched and found the source of his unsettling feeling… Through the slight shield of leaves from the trees growing around the intertwining paths, he spotted the shadowed silhouette of his father. The king was observing him from his bedroom balcony, taking a mental note of his actions and body language.
He locked gazes with Thranduil, intent on seeming confident and not willing to lose in this silent war. Thranduil stared back nonchalantly, his silver-grey eyes evident even at such a great distance between them. Legolas saw the smug grin on his face widen half a centimeter and felt himself dishearten.
He was going to lose… and he knew it…
With a subtle sigh, the prince turned his back to his father and faced the open gates before him.
He was going to lose for sure… but he was not going to simply give up and admit it.
No… he was going to give his greatest resistance and go out with pride.
That was one thing his father could not take away from him.
Legolas set his jaw firmly, his sapphire eyes darkening in determination. Brushing away a stray lock of gold hair tamed by the wind, he pushed off with his toes into a brisk pace through the iron gates, intent on proving himself to his unseeing father.
Thranduil let his smirk fade into the rim of his wineglass as he watched Legolas leave, the iron splendor of the gates swinging slowly shut after him.
He could not help the swell of pride from deep within him after seeing what a fine elf his son had become through his many years. Though still young, Legolas was mature far beyond his years and always had been. He was ambitious and righteous, an honourable and fair being. Ever since he was an elfling, Thranduil had been there to witness him excel in everything that had been thrown at him, from historical education and literature to horseback riding and archery. If he had not done greater than average at something, Legolas had pushed himself to guarantee that he went over the charts.
The only area Legolas ever lacked in was properness and etiquette. Though elegant and princely, the elf had always been a trouble-maker and a prankster and there was no help from Elrond's twins from Rivendell. Elladan and Elrohir had always been influencing the younger elf since before Thranduil could remember. That and add the human foster-son Estel to the package, equal in his rights to trouble-making and pranks.
Thranduil let a fond smile grace his expression as he recalled every lecture he and Elrond had given the four young menaces.
And now, watching Legolas exhibit everything in a prince that could be required and hoped for, it made way for a bright future for Mirkwood.
'Legolas would make a fine king…' Concluded Thranduil, 'A fine king indeed…
Legolas fought his very hardest to elude the feeling of foreboding as he heard the soft clank of iron behind him, the sentinels securing the gates shut. He forced himself to not turn back and only slowed his pace to observe the mossy dirt-covered forest floor for tracks.
Knowing very well that the tauren princess was not nearly dim-witted enough to choose the main entrance as her getaway, Legolas turned left on his heel and began to make his way around the vast perimeter.
The prince moved at a gradual but fair speed, his eyes scanning over and observing the ground for tracks or marks that looked recent. He kept his keen elven senses alert on his surroundings; Mirkwood forest was dangerous… he had to keep up his guard.
Staying a good metre from the magnificent wall of solid rock, he continued around for what seemed like hours. The routine that had been repeating itself every minute or so was almost to the point of becoming permanently embedded in his mind: scan the ground, stop, look around, continue walking, repeat…
He sighed soundlessly and stopped walking completely, finding himself standing at the southern segment of the wall. Looking around quickly once more, he put a foot forward to begin his mechanical walking once more before something caught his eye. At last a break!
Imprinted firmly in the soft moss not a few inches from him, were two footprints, side by side and deep.
'She must have jumped from the wall and landed here…' Legolas squatted down next to the prints, gingerly touching one of the rims. 'Four… five hours ago…?' Tracing with his eyes, there was a metre of flattened moss, testimony to her rolling.
But what caught his attention next to the prints she left when standing, were small, almost invisible specks of yellow-white. His brow furrowing slightly, he leaned over and caught one of the sparse specks between his thumb and index finger. Bringing it before his face to identify it, he almost smirked.
She was leaving him a trail of bread crumbs… Literally!
Legolas flicked the crumb to the side and brought himself back to his full height. There was a thin, nearly undetectable trail of bread crumbs in the direction in which she had gone. She must have been quite hungry.
Ensuring there were no other tracks going in any other directions, the elven prince began to follow the trail through the underbrush.
With any luck, it would be a while before the crumb-path disappeared altogether and he was left searching again.
There was no sunlight, no wind, and no sound of chirping birds. The forest was still and silent as death itself…
Laure could not help the gloom that consumed her quickly after spending a few hours in such a dark, eerie place where the air felt so close that it could suffocate her. So far she had not had any unpleasant visits from any forest-dwelling creatures, so she had that small factor to be grateful for because she had no weapons to defend herself with. She had no food or drink, which made her all the more glad she was heading for a river.
On top of all that, she was more tired than she could ever remember being in her life. Decent sleep had evaded her for the past few days and it was really starting to take its toll on her. The small rest she had attempted to take three hours ago did not go as well as planned when she kept startling herself awake every five or ten minutes, afraid that something might jump from the shadows to attack her.
She rubbed her eyes with the sides of her hands sluggishly, clearing the fog and forcing herself to become alert. She was not familiar with the forest of Mirkwood therefore anything was possible; she needed to be careful.
Sighing deeply, the tauren pushed the thought of sleep to the back of her head; thinking about such blissful things would only make situations worse for her. Next to her sigh, the forest became silent again next to the faint churning and babbling of water...
Wait…
Water?!
Laure's ears perked up at the blissful sound, her shoulders straightening. The delightful sound compelled her to walk faster, knowing she was very close to Forest River.
Within minutes she reached her destination, the sight of the sparkling water filling her with glee. She rushed forward over the grassy bank and dropped to her knees where the clear water lapped at the shore as it flowed on by, immediately dipping her hands into the cool liquid. Cupping her hands together she leaned forward and brought some of the heavenly substance to her lips. She took in a few gulps and returned her hands to retrieve some more.
Slowly, she could feel the parching in her mouth leave, along with that disgusting, metallic taste. She sat back after drinking her fill, her saliva no longer thick and hard to swallow and her lips not as chapped. Heaving a content sigh, she took off Valandil's boots and immersed her sore feet into the water, leaning back onto the palms of her hands.
It was then that she first noticed the small rays of sunlight piercing through the darkness and dotting the mossy ground. Laure looked up, expecting to see some form of animal life, but she saw none. All that was there to see were the thick, gnarled branches of the trees on either side of the river, crisscrossing over each other and attempting to block out the fading orange sunlight.
Bringing her gaze back down, Laure took her feet from the water and shook off the excess moisture. She would have taken a bath right then and there had she not been tried for time. She had to get home as soon as possible…
She stood up and stomped in the moss for a long moment until her feet were dry; how gross would it be to be walking around in boots with wet feet?
Laure yanked the boots on again and stopped all movement afterward. Her eyebrows drew close together as she looked to the right, and then left along the riverbank.
Which direction was west again?
Oh yes!
She remembered that the elven kingdom lay a few miles behind her north, so to the right must be west. It was the longer way, to travel along the Enchanted River and loop around to go through the Mountains of Mirkwood, but it was less chance of being caught and returned to imprisonment. She could not risk going close to the route of Thranduil's army, which was what going to the left along the river was. Also, she could not take the more direct path to the mountains by the Elf Path when there was a chance that scouts or watches have been placed periodically along the path during such dark times. A whisper of the Great Eye still remained and no race could afford to be careless.
From the Mountains, she would follow the river again until it connected to another, the River Running, which would take her across the plains of Edhel-Dagnir to home across the small sea.
How she wished she had not left home the first place… instead of stopping the war she fueled its purpose and gave the enemy ammunition! She jeopardized everything for her people and tipped the odds to the elves.
Now her people were going to fall for sure… there was no helping it now.
She had already done enough. Her last duty was to survive and get herself home safely, and then maybe she could help her father for a week or so before Thranduil made slaves of them all.
Her throat constricted tightly and her eyes misted; her guilt, her loneliness, her hunger, and exhaustion… so many things were assaulting her at the same time. She just wanted to break down and cry, to sob hysterically and hope for rescue… but chances of rescue were less than none. She was a weak, unworthy princess in enemy territory and she could hardly defend herself if the need arose.
Her best bet was to just give up and go back… she had a better likelihood of surviving in the elven dungeons than out here in this godforsaken spit of trees.
She would have done just that to if it were not for her pride, she decided as she began walking westward along the mossy riverbank.
She was surely her father's daughter
Legolas studied the ground with hard eyes as he followed the almost indiscernible tracks in the foliage. He inwardly cursed the sunset, feeling awkward because he had never before done so. The sunset was always a beautiful spectacle to behold, a whole show on its own. He loved watching the sun sink below the shadowed horizon, sending off rays of bright crimsons and oranges as its last farewell, but in this accursed forest, he could not watch as he did before.
He found that the claustrophobia never lessened every occasion that he had to enter the dark woods of Mirkwood no matter how many times his father had assured him that it would. He knew he would never be able to get used to it: the feeling of icy death; it would always loom over him like a bad omen.
Legolas shuddered, unsure of whether to be concerned or not of that. He did not feel the cold, but as the light was fading he became more aware of the foreboding in his heart.
Silently, he drew one of his long, white daggers, the weapon gleaming comfortingly in the dying light of the sun.
The tracks he was following were fresh, only a couple of hours or so old. This was a good sign; he was quickly catching up… catching up faster than he had anticipated. The tauren princess would be a day's tracking or less ahead of him; it would not be hard to find her if she kept leaving tracks like these ones, even in the dark.
Her footprints were pressed into the moss and the dirt, evident and southward. They were not hard to spot, and with his keen eyesight, the dark only hindered them enough that he had to squint to see them.
Laure was either very foolish or fearless, both of which Legolas knew she was not. She may have tried to seem courageous during their short-lived friendship, but he knew she had many fears… many worries… And she was neither stupid, nor slow; she had enough common sense to get by during the day.
She must not have known of the terrors Mirkwood forest beheld… the monstrosities that never slept. There were wolves, Legolas knew as he heard one howl to the upcoming moon as the sun disappeared completely. And there were spiders… giant, horrible spiders capable of swallowing whole horses.
Legolas silently wondered, as he ducked a low, distorted branch, just how important this war was to his father. Was it so important to conquer Rhûn that he was willing to put his only son in danger to have him repent for crossing the line?
It was disproportionate, Legolas thought, and Thranduil needed to rethink his priorities straight.
The faint gurgling of water reached his ears, the sound music to Legolas' silence-weary ears. He found himself quickening his pace, only distantly watching to follow the tracks that lead him to the river.
He pressed through the thicker bushes, the mossy bank forming under his very boots. He quickly crossed the bank to the river and knelt next to it. He placed his white dagger next to him and pulled out an elven flask. Uncapping it, he put it to his lips, finishing off the small amount of water that was left within it. Running his mouth over his sleeve briskly, he put the flask halfway into the river, allowing the cool liquid to flow into it.
Legolas looked to his left briefly to see a few heavy tracks next to the riverside, before they headed off past him to the west.
Where exactly was she going, he wondered.
He took the flask back from the water and capped it before reattaching it to his belt. Grabbing his weapon again, he stood and began to follow the tracks once again, the moonlight reflecting off the gurgling water and dancing across his face. The moon was faint through the thick leaves, but it did well enough to illuminate his path to the slightest.
Despite the evil that resigned within these trees, Legolas decided that it did have its beauty. Though obscured heavily by fear and death, the trees did have an air of serenity.
He just hoped that Laure would not have any accidental meetings with the evils that dwelled in the darkness and see the beauty this forest hid.
'Please stay safe, Laure… Please…'
Her arms drawn tightly to her chest, Laure clambered along through the forest, jumping at any noise from the hoot of an owl to the rustling of bushes or leaves. Her breath came out sharp and quick, her ears flattened against her hair.
She could hardly see where she was heading or what was around her, the breaks of moonlight doing nothing to illuminate her path and surroundings.
She could not help these panicked feelings as the fear gripped her heart. The dark was one of her worst phobias and it seemed to intensify the already sinister atmosphere suffocating her. She had not a single weapon to defend herself with and she was never very good at hand to hand combat, though what good it would have done her against the dancing shadows and figments of her imagination was questionable.
The river next to her babbled quietly and was glowing faintly in the equally faint moonlight.
Swallowing hard, she forced herself to keep moving, as much as she wanted to just curl up into a ball and block everything out of her frantic mind.
She knew she had to keep moving; her survival depended on it.
How she wished she was back at home in the safety of her own home, surrounded by her family.
If Laure had to list off her greatest regrets, coming to Mirkwood would have been her number one…
Lynx: (calmed down quite a bit) Sorry that this was such a short, late, and crappy update, my friends, but that's the best I can do right now. I'll try to get more writing done but I have a lot of things to do and a lot of issues to deal with right now. So bear with me, ne?
Laure/Legolas/Haldir: cowering away still in fear that she might suddenly eat them
Lynx: And thanks to all of you that have left reviews, you make my heart sing.
Laure: (cough)CORNY(cough)
Lynx: (ignores Laure) Please review again, it'll make my day, I promise!!
Legolas: (cough)SUCK-UP(cough)
Lynx: (ignores Legolas) And please don't flame me! I know it's not very good, but I'm trying my best!!
Haldir: (cough)GUILT-TRIPPER(cough)
Lynx: …….. WILL YOU SHUT UP ALL OF YOU!!! RAWRRRR!!!
Laure/Legolas/Haldir: (run away screaming in fear of their lives)
Lynx: … phew… I think I blew a fuse… 3