Home Sweet Home
Thank you to Manwaithiel Melda, Martiny the one and only still, Legolas Greenleaf . Willizabeth , Ron Brown and River Otter1 for reviewing last chapter! (For those of you that I couldn't get a reply to it's at the bottom of the page :D)
Part Eight
"K-Kemen?"
Legolas stared at his childhood friend. It couldn't be happening. It couldn't be possible. Why would he? How could he? More importantly, how had he hidden it from Legolas? They had been friends for millennium. Each could tell easily when the other was lying, or hiding something. Could they have grown that far apart? Questions threw themselves at Legolas so fast and hard he was in danger of being knocked unconscious.
He had stood up because he was ready to attack whoever had done this to Gimli. He had even prepared himself for the horrible possibility that it would mean attacking his own brother, and understood the consequences. But he had been boiling with hard, dangerous anger. The thought of it being Kemen hadn't even crossed his mind. Here, with these unpredictable new events unraveling, he didn't think he was capable of attacking anyone, let alone the boy he had grown up with, who had been his best friend until Aragorn and Gimli had come along. Saying that, he didn't feel capable of doing anything at all without speaking in gibberish or his knees buckling.
Kemen was breathing hard and staring at him. His grey eyes flickered from Legolas, to Gimli, to Legolas, to Gimli and back again. Those eyes, which Legolas had once compared to the sky on a cloudy day, were now as hard and cold as a steel blade and twice as piercing.
"Legolas," Kemen rasped. "Get away from him!"
Legolas replied by looking at him with a devastating mixture of hurt, confusion and disgust reflected in his eyes, face and body language. Still, he took one step back, until his foot brushed Gimli. He didn't look at the Dwarf, but held his gaze with Kemen, who struggled to break away before continuing desperately.
"No- Legolas-" Kemen tried. "I can help you, just- come here! Now, please, Mellon-nin-"
Something snapped inside Legolas and he had to stop himself from launching himself at the other Elf. "What did you call me?" He demanded icily. "Kemen, you lost the right to call me your friend the moment you even considered this."
Kemen swallowed. It had never meant to happen like this...his whole plan was going wrong! There was no point in denying his part in the charade, but there was still a chance of salvaging something. If only he could get Legolas out of the way...
Maegóre turned to his father to see what Thranduil would say to the rather eccentric outburst Kemen had performed. They had merely been waiting for Legolas to arrive before starting their meal, but things had to be dealt with properly, after all.
Thranduil watched the door where just moments ago Legolas's childhood friend had run through. He didn't knot why, and couldn't explain it at all, but he had a bad feeling. A knot of anxiousness had settled in his chest, and he was all too aware of the fact that Legolas wasn't in the hall yet. His youngest was never late for a meal, and if he didn't arrive withing the next thirty second, he would be late. This, together with Kemen's unsettling behavior, made Thranduil extremely worried for Legolas. There was no reason to be worried - after all, what could happen to Legolas in his own home? - but the surprising events of the last few days made the decision for him.
"Maegóre, would you go and get your brother, please?" Thranduil kept his voice as neutral as possible.
Maegóre tried to hide his scowl. "Why? He'll be down in a moment, I'm sure. Just wait, Adar."
"I will not wait," Thranduil replied through gritted teeth. "Go and get him. Now."
Rolling his eyes, the younger Elf replied calmly. "I'm sure Kemen just went to get him, or something. I think we should just-"
"If I have to ask you again," Thranduil warned. He tried to keep his voice quiet, so that others wouldn't hear, but the idea of Kemen finding Legolas scared him. It was an unexplainable feeling, but it simply would not go away. "There will be trouble."
From the impatient sigh Maegóre made as he pushed back his chair and stood, Thranduil could tell that Maegóre wasn't happy - not at all. His eldest clearly didn't feel as he did. And as Thranduil watched his son slip from the room, the ache in his chest didn't go away.
Legolas stood defiantly in front of the Dwarf; shielding him. Over the last two minutes, when his beliefs had been turned upside down and jumped on, he had grown more confident. Legolas had even brought himself to belief that the events might actually have a happy ending - it was all just one big misunderstanding.
"Kemen," He tried. "Stop this. Help me - I need to get Gimli to a healer. I don't think I should move him. I don't know what you've done to him, but it's...look at him. Look at his breathing!" Legolas was panicking now and he knew it. Glancing from the Dwarf, to Kemen, and back to Gimli again, he continued, voice shaky. "I must have got here just in time."
Kemen nodded agreeable, seeing his chance. It was only fair, after all. It was every Elf for himself, he believed, and so right now he had to put himself first, no matter what this would mean sacrificing. "I know, Legolas. And I'm sorry, really, I am. I don't know what came over me, but I just went- went insane. I-" He was cut off by the tears that were rolling down his face. He was looking mournfully at his friend, as though he had never felt so much inner pain in his life. "Help me, Legolas. Please help me. I've ruined everything." With that, he took a few, blundering step towards the , Kemen always had been a good actor.
Legolas looked back with wide eyes. He hadn't expected Kemen to admit he was wrong so easily. Now the other Elf was practically sniveling at his feet. He had to admit, he was disconcerted. "Kemen," He said, his voice doubtful and unsure. There was Gimli, lying on the floor. He needed a healer, and fast. Legolas was not a good enough healer to treat Gimli here himself; but to get one, he would need Kemen's help. That would mean he had to trust him.
But how could he be trusted now?
It didn't matter though, Legolas realized. He didn't have to trust him further than they could get Gimli to a healer. After that, it didn't matter. Nothing would matter. Not if Gimli died. He would never, ever forgive himself for that as long as he lived - and he was an Elf. He lived forever. Spending a lifetime guilty and miserable did not appeal to him at all.
"Help me carry him downstairs." Legolas said loudly, already looking around for anything that would help them with this; the only thing in the room, apart from themselves, was a jug of water that looked as though it had been scooped from a muddy puddle, if not a sewer, and a plate of the moldiest, most stale, and most unappetizing slice of bread he had ever laid eyes on. Legolas quickly looked away, back to the dark-haired Elf that had sunk to his knees in front of him.
Legolas couldn't help but cringe at the sight of him. He just looked so...pathetic, down on the floor. Pathetic.
"Get up, Kemen. There will be time to do that later. Just help me take Gimli to a healer!" Legolas's voice rose at the end of his speech. He knew that he sounded desperate; and he was desperate. Desperately scared.
Maegóre rolled his eyes as he scanned his brother's bedroom. What a surprise...it was empty. At least, Legolas wasn't in there. Supposing that they must have taken different routes to and from the dining hall and they must have just missed each other (he and their father were probably laughing about it right now), he pulled the door shut again before returning to the hall. In fact, he was about to make his way back to the dining hall when he noticed something odd.
The door to his father's rooms was open.
Maegóre frowned. He had walked past that door on his way down to dinner earlier, and it had been shut. Thranduil always shut it, and so did the maids and anyone else who went in there. It was meal time. Everyone, even the servants, were eating at the same time, unless they were serving or in the kitchens. No-one was in there. No cleaner would have gone in there with just minutes until dinner was served.
In the space of less than ten minute between Maegóre leaving his rooms and coming back up to Legolas's, someone had gone in there.
Kemen.
Why on Arda was Kemen in there? He certainly was not a servant, cleaner or otherwise.
Stepping lightly through the door and cautiously shutting it behind him, careful not to make a sound, disguising the click of it closing. No-one was in the lounge. It stood, still and silent.
The door to his parent's bedroom was ajar. Maegóre glowered at it, as though it was the doors fault that an intruder had crept into Thranduil's room. Taking a deep breath, he leapt through the doorway, fully prepared for a startled-looking Kemen to be on the other side.
He wasn't.
Thoroughly confused, Maegóre saw the open door the his parent's spare rooms. And groaned. There had better not be any more carelessly left open doors that he had to sneak through. It was definitely trying his patience.
The doors led to the room that both he and Legolas had used as young children. Much of Legolas's belongings had been left in there, even after moving to his current rooms. All the other guest quarters in his parent's rooms were accessed from the living area. He couldn't help the flickering smile that crossed his face at all the childhood memory's that came from these very rooms.
As he slipped through the last door, Maegóre noticed that he had no weapons of any kind with him; he was anticipating a struggle, for surely Kemen was up to no good, sneaking about in these rooms.He dedcided not to go back and get some though, because it was at that point he heard voices.
"Get up, Kemen. There will be time to do that later. Just help me take Gimli to a healer!"
Maegóre almost dropped to the floor in surprise. That was Legolas's voice, rather more shrill than any male would like to admit, but still Legolas's.
He hurried forward until he was peering through the doorway to a familiar toy room. What he saw really made his mouth drop open in surprise, until he was gaping like a fool.
The horrible Dwarf, lying on the floor looking...he hated to say it, but the Dwarf looked dead. Maegóre felt rather sickened by the horror he felt at this observation. He put it down to feeling horrified at the thought of what the Dwarf's death would do to his brother. This was highly understandable, for Maegóre cared about his brother more than anything else, even if he didn't always show it. He would do anything for Legolas, just the same as the younger Elf would do for him. Valar, he would die for his brother.
There was Kemen, crawling along on the floor, sniffing unattractively and gazing up at Legolas, who was in turn gazing down at the Dwarf, looking stricken.
"Quickly!" Legolas gasped. He turned his body fully, so that he had his back to Kemen, and bent down to touch the Dwarf. Kemen, behind Legolas, unseen by all except Maegóre, brought himself to his feet and reached for something concealed by his tunic. Even Maegóre could not see the evil, psychotic smile on his face; but he could see the shiny, sharp dagger clasped in his hand. Maegóre didn't know if Kemen intended to kill anyone with that, but he did know that it wasn't out for him to admire. It was there to injure someone at least, and by the looks of things, the intended person wasn't Gimli.
"No!" Maegóre yelled. He meant to yell, anyway, but it came out as no more than a faint whisper.
Before he knew what he was doing, before he could stop himself, he pushed forward, through the door, to Kemen. It was all he wanted to do, reach the Elf and stop him from using the dagger. But he wasn't going to get there in time - jumping, lunging, throwing himself at the Elf, pushing him to the ground, rolling, not caring what happened, only that Legolas wasn't the target anymore, he was --- gasping for breath as he tried to push the crazy Elf away from him, the dagger away, trying to get under control -- there was surge of adrenaline but it wasn't enough! Whatever was driving Kemen through this madness was stronger, so much stronger!
There was a searing pain in his shoulder; he couldn't tell exactly where it had come from, or even when, only that one minute there was nothing and the next there was something. But it didn't matter, for a second later he felt the handle of the blade in his hand and he was in control. He pulled away from the other, from the floor, until he was on his feet. It was a few seconds before his vision cleared enough for him to see Kemen on the ground, staring up at him with large, anxious eyes, mouth opening and closing but no words were coming out. Maegóre looked back at him, satisfied, relieved, before turning to look at Legolas.
Legolas's eyes were fixed on Maegóre - or rather, the blood gushing out of his shoulder.
"Maegóre," Legolas began hoarsely. "You've been stabbed."
Maegóre gave his brother a dry look before easing himself down to the floor, a suitable distance away from Kemen. "Really." He replied sarcastically.
Legolas smiled faintly. Even after all of this, it was nice to know some things never change - Maegóre was always moody after being hurt.
"Legolas, find something to bind his hands and feet together." Maegóre accompanied this statement with a disgusted look at Kemen, who was looking between the two worriedly. Maegóre turned his attention back to Legolas. "Then go and get Adar. And some healers. I will keep an eye on that and the - Gimli."
Then he sighed tiredly. The wound was making him feel dizzy - and drowsy. "Hurry, Legolas." He continued. The pain from the wound was just beginning to reach its climate; as though the pain had been kept in a well-insulated jar before, now it came over him in waves, waning and waxing. "Find something to bind him."
Legolas nodded. His eyes were drawn to the worrying amount of blood covering his brother, but he knew that Maegóre was capable of looking after himself. If possible, Maegóre hated being in the healing wing with the healers even more than Legolas did. Any attempts to 'mother' him, as he would see it, would be met only with, well, attitude and occasionally insults.
Rising, Legolas racked his brains for something at hand to bind his one-time friend with. He needn't have bothered, though.
The space on the floor where Kemen had been just a moment ago was now empty. In fact, Legolas hadn't the faintest clue of where Kemen was, or even how he had slipped out without the two brothers noticing.
Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. This chapter was really difficult to write, much harder than last chapter. So glad I've finally managed to post it!
Feedback, reviews and constructive criticism are welcome and highly appreciated...so you know you want to! Press the green button and GO!
Legolas Greenleaf . Willizabeth - Thank you for reviewing! It was very encouraging :) I'm really happy you like it! (You have your PM's turned off so I'm replying this way!)
Ron Brown - Thank you for reviewing! I hope this is continued enough for you :) I don't think anyone has ever called one of my stories fantastic before! Thanks!