Chapter Four
Athelas bundled her embroidery behind a cushion as Legolas entered the room. He saw the gesture and smiled at her.
"Another secret, my lady?" he asked her teasingly.
"Yes, my lord," she answered, "another secret project that I must tell no one of until the time is right. Will you try to guess?"
"I would never put you in such a position, my lady. Your honesty would force you to tell me if I guessed right, but your promise to Arwen would force you to remain silent. Instead, I shall remove us both from temptation, and ask you to come for some air with me."
Her eyes twinkled. "My lord, at the risk of shocking your sense of propriety, I must tell you that not only would I enjoy some time in the outdoors, I am ready for a romp! If you would allow me a few moments to change into suitable attire, I will meet you in the courtyard."
With a grin as wide as Athelas' own, Legolas bowed and left the room. She wasted no time in quickly discarding the flowing robes she wore for less comfortable but more practical trousers and tunic. After pulling on her high boots, she reached for a russet over tunic, and belted it. She pulled the pins from her hair and quickly braided the black tresses. Slipping a small dagger into the sheath of her boot and another into her belt, she left the room.
The prince was waiting by the fountain when he saw her. His eyes lit up in delight at the prospect of freedom and exercise. Together they left the courtyard for the forest.
"Well, my lady, where shall we run? To Mirkwood?" he laughed.
"If you would only follow me, my lord." she told him, laughing back, and darting through the wood.
They ran, feeling the joy that was left in the world. As they ran, Athelas could feel the tension in her leave. Her cares seemed to flow out of the soles of her boots. She felt the sunshine on her face, and the wind. Legolas laughed behind her, and chased her. She shrieked and put on a small burst of speed. He easily caught up to her and they ran like wild things through the brush.
When they finally stopped, Athelas had led him to a small copse by a stream. They sat beside the sparkling water and listened to the trees. Athelas closed her eyes and lifted her face to the sun. Her pale complection blossomed with roses from the exercise and freedom from cares. Small tendrils of hair had become loose from her braid and fluttered about her face. Legolas smiled in appreciation, for the elves love beauty in any form.
She felt him looking at her, and opened one eye.
"I thank you, my lord, for suggesting we take in the air." she said, smiling at him. He chuckled.
"Still so formal, Athelas? I thought you might have left that behind as well." She laughed at this and scampered up a tree. Swinging by her knees on a low branch, she again closed her eyes. Her thick braid swung down, and she laughed. The sight of her, usually so formal, enjoying herself so thoroughly, delighted Legolas.
"You are still a child, Athelas."
"Aren't we all, my lord? It has been a long while since I swung in a tree, I admit, but as children, Arwen and I lived in them." She let her hands drop down. "I have missed it."
"Surely you must be able to get away once in a while?" he asked, climbing up into the tree with her. She swung back up to look at him, perched several branches above her.
"Sometimes it seems that I am neglecting the forest. My other duties keep me so busy. And of course, one must always be formal and polite. I am proud to be able to help my Lord Elrond with anything he requires of me. But, oh, to be able to just run..." her voice trailed off. She did not notice the darkness that came into his eyes.
"Yes, to be able to run." he replied quietly, looking away.
"My lord?" she asked.
"To be able to run, to just be, as we were meant to be. Not to feel the darkness growing nearer."
"I am sorry, my lord. I seem to bring out these feelings in you, to remind you of the troubles in the world."
He shook his head. "It is not you, Athelas. In truth, you help me to forget for a while."
"Then, my lord, I would have you remember that today is for joy. Today we are but elves in the wood, being at one with the world."
He smiled at her, the darkness in his eyes replaced with mischief. "Then today, Athelas, you will call me by my name."
"My lord," she began, in mock protest, "I do not feel that would be appropriate. You are, after all, a prince."
"Ah, but today I am not. Today I am, how did you put it? An elf in the woods. As are you."
She laughed at him, and swung down from her branch. "Would you care for something to eat?" she asked him, careful not to use his name.
"Were you speaking to me?"
"Yes, I was, "o elf in the wood". Now, go light a fire, while I get some fish."
As Legolas built a small cooking fire, she lay beside the stream, and gently slid her hand in the water. After a short time, a fish swam into her open hand. Lightly moving her fingers, she tickled the fish into a trance like state. Then she quickly flipped it out of the water towards Legolas.
In no time at all they had several trout cooking over the fire. Athelas hummed happily to herself as she turned the spit. When the fish were ready, they ate in companionable silence. Afterwards, Legolas stretched out on the grass and Athelas wove the long stems of daisies together.
"Did you come her often? As a child?" Legolas asked her.
"Yes. Arwen found this place. We came here as often as we could. Arwen would dance beneath those trees, and I would play the flute very badly." She laughed at the memory.
"We would return to Imladris covered in mud and grass. My Lord Elrond would shake his head and call us incorrigible, but he understood. He rarely scolded us in those days."
"Before the world grew dark." he said.
She reached over and tickled the end of his nose with a daisy. "None of that, my lord. Shall I tell you wicked deeds of my childhood to amuse you? Tales of stolen jam pots and ruined frocks? Of hair so matted with burdock that my mother's patience gave out and she cut it off?"
He sat up and looked at her. "I cannot believe it of you. You, the model of deportment."
She looked at him from beneath lowered eyelids, "Oh, yes, I was a wayward child." She paused for a moment. "Legolas."
He gave her a smile that was like the sun breaking from behind silver clouds. She felt her heart jump in answer to that smile, and the look in his bright blue eyes. She didn't realize that her own were as brilliant as onyx.
As they talked of childhood capers, the sun went down and the stars came out. Finally Athelas stood up and stretched. "My lord, I fear we must be getting back. But it has been a wonderful day, and I thank you."
"The day is not yet over, Athelas, nor are we back in Imladris. Please, don't force me into my title until we are there."
She smiled and held out her hand. "As you wish, Legolas." He took her hand, and they began to walk back slowly through the trees.
"I haven't enjoyed a day as much as this in a good long while. Thank you, Athelas."
"It has been my pleasure, Legolas. I feel completely refreshed, and ready for whatever new crisis awaits me. Perhaps mice have invaded the linen cupboard in my absence."
He laughed and then stopped, turning to stand in front of her. Gently, he cupped her face in his right hand, while his left held hers firmly.
"Athelas," he began, with fire in his eyes, "There is something I must tell you."
"No, my lord." she interrupted him. "Don't spoil this." She lowered her eyes to the ground. "Let us keep this day as it is." She pulled her hand away, turning her face.
"But why?"
She lifted her head and looked around her, almost as if she were frightened of him. "I, I can't. I can't let you say it."
"Athelas." he tried again. "Please, let me..."
"No!" she almost shouted. She began to back away from him, tears starting in her eyes. He reached out and gathered her in his arms, whispering in her delicately pointed ear.
"My love," he murmured, "don't be afraid."
She struggled against him, pulling herself free. "I can't. You can't. Don't you see?"
"No, I don't." he said, his voice thick with frustration. "I'm free, you're free. What could be wrong?"
"Nothing. Everything. It's complicated."
"Then explain it to me."
"We both have duties. You to your father, and me, well, to Arwen."
"Arwen? I don't understand. What does she have to do with anything? She loves Aragorn, yes, but..."
"That's it. She loves Estel. And because of that..." She broke off, twisting her hands together.
"Athelas, that makes no sense."
"I can't explain it to you, I can't even explain it to myself."
He reached towards her. "You just need time. This isn't like you at all. Come here."
She broke away from him and ran. There were too many feelings in her heart, too many thoughts in her head. She had to get away. She ran without realizing where she was going, without paying any attention at all.
He followed, amazed at her behavior. What was happening to her? That she was surprised at him he did not doubt. He had been surprised himself. But the more he thought of it, the more it made sense. He had loved her for years, but not been aware of it. And until a few moments ago, he was sure that he stood high in her regard as well. But now?
Athelas crashed through thickets, blindly running. She could see as well as he could, but her eyes were blinded by tears. She didn't want to have to place all her doubts and worries in front of him now. She needed time to sort out the sorry mess that her heart and head were in. Preoccupied by the turmoil in her soul, she stumbled, then fell, landing heavily on her ankle, then sliding down a hill. She tried to stop herself, but it was too late, and she rolled, striking a large boulder. She heard Legolas' voice before the world turned black.
When she opened her eyes, Legolas was leaning over her, wiping her face with a damp cloth. She felt bruised and battered, and for a moment wondered what had happened to her. Then she remembered and shame at her behavior washed over her like a wave.
"My lord, I am so sorry," she began, but he cut her off.
"There are no lords here, or ladies. I am Legolas and you are Athelas. If you call me 'my lord' again, I will not answer." His fear for her had turned to anger, and she felt it.
"Legolas," she began again, "I am truly sorry. I shouldn't have run off like that."
"No." He continued to wash her face, "you shouldn't have. At least you should have had more sense than to fall down and break an ankle. And I don't like the feel of this bump on the back of your head either." He pushed her back down as she tried to get up. "Don't try to move just yet."
She felt the tears start up again, and called up every bit of stoicism she had to fight them back. He didn't seem to want to talk, and she was grateful for that. She didn't think she could explain why she had run.
He was seething inside. He shouldn't have tried to tell her of his feelings right then. He should have stopped as soon as she'd said no. The cold fear that had gripped his heart when he saw her go down had made him realize just how precious she was to him. When he had reached her she had been so still that for a moment he thought that she'd been killed in the fall. Reassured that she was still alive, he turned his fear into cold anger at himself. He had caused her to run like that. This was his fault. He was glad that she'd stopped talking. He didn't trust himself to try to explain how sorry he was.
When he had finished washing the blood from her face, he sat back on his knees and looked at her. Her black eyes were sparkling with unshed tears. He steeled himself against the urge to crush her to him, to kiss the tears from her eyes, and make her his own forever. He would not upset her again.
She saw the change in his eyes, as they grew colder, and felt him change somehow. At this moment, when she saw him retreat from her, she felt how much she loved him. One word of kindness from him and she would have flung her arms around his neck and wept with joy. But now that would not happen. She had lost him.
"As you cannot walk. I will carry you back to Imladris where you can be cared for properly." He thoughts were in chaos, but his voice was still.
"As you think best." she replied, feeling her heart crack within her.
He picked her up gently and began the long walk back.