Hi everyone. I'm back! Never thought I could survive for two whole weeks without my trusty laptop but I made it! I have still been working on the story though but it was a pain writing it out by hand. My fingers have cramp from clutching the pen too tight!
Anyway, Thanks to all of you who read, favourited, followed and reviewed the last chapter and hopefully will have been waiting patiently for this one.
To .Queen - hopefully you'll hang on in there to get the answers :)
To my mad no. 1 reviewer (you know who you are!) I'm glad you picked up on the perspective difference. As you so rightly say I was trying to show how even though he has been brought up by elves he isn't one and there are some differences in cultures that are not easily understood by outsiders as it is in real life. You may even be able to work out where I'm going with it too ;) Oh yes, and I decided not to risk the punishment. Couldn't let you down by being banned for a month now could I!?
Anyway, on we go. Here's chapter 20. Hope you like and pretty please with sugar on, review!
Chapter 20
Seated, high in one of the oldest trees in Imladris, back against the comforting trunk, long legs dangling from the gently swaying branch Legolas surreptitiously watches the tousled haired figure walk slowly past on the ground below with mounting frustration.
"Why will they not leave me alone?" The unvoiced words reverborate around his head.
It has been two days since he awakened to the twins, strangely reserved, presence beside his bed and this is the first chance he has had to be alone. It would appear that the lord of Imladris and his three sons have deemed it necessary he be accompanied at all times as if they fear what he may do if left to himself and being constantly under somebodys gaze is beginning to grate on the wood elfs nerves.
He values his privacy and when at home, often spends hours on his own with just the trees for company. The need to be amongst the trees soothing presence has now become an almost physical one, nature can relieve his pains and anxieties better than all else and the feeling of life and simplicity that surrounds him in the verdant, green leaves he loves so much makes him almost forget why he is there.
" Ai, Valar, what have I done?"
He closes his eyes at the silent plea, not wanting to think about Lhosson, yet unable to leave it alone. The last few moments of their fight keep playing, over and over in his head. He should never have fought back, should not have let the elder rile him, should have tried to talk, to use reason instead of meeting violence with violence. So many things he should have done but did not, and now, there is a price to be paid.
" I failed him." This time the words crystalise in the air and he realises he has spoken them aloud. Then the guilt washes over him again and he feels like he is drowning under its huge wave. A vice tightens around his chest, constricting his breathing until he is gulping for air in short, ragged breaths, his heart is being squeezed by icy fingers until the pain becomes almost unbearable and a low moan escapes his lips to be quickly swallowed so as not to give his position away to any who may be near.
Failure, he can almost taste the word. Failure.
Green eyes lit mad with a desire for vengeance stare relentlessly into him from between the leaves wherever he casts his gaze. He cannot escape their accusatory glare.
"Saes, please, no," whispered words tumble from his mouth, "I did not mean to, I never meant this, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, so stupid, so." The flow is quickly stemmed and he holds his breath as he catches sight of the moving figure once more beneath him, the human will not give up his search it seems and he presses his body back into the tree as if wishing he could merge his form with its, to avoid detection. "Why will he not just leave me alone?"
The thought lingers in his troubled mind as he waits for the young man to move on.
"Legolas!" Estel shouts his friends name in near desperation.
He has been searching for the elf for three or four hours now and refuses to give up, even though his brothers have long since told him to leave it and let the prince reappear in his own time. He is unable to stop however, he knows his friend will be hurting and feels a deep need within himself to alleviate the pain he feels partially responsible for, after all, he should have been there, he knows the young archer so well he should have realised he would seek answers for the attack upon his life and kept a closer eye on him, stopped him from stealing away alone thus preventing all this before it began.
A feeling of guilt has settled within his heart like a stone, he was not there when his friend needed him then, the least he can do is be here for him now.
Running his fingers through untidy brown hair for the thousandth time he stands for a minute beneath a tall oak tree he knows he has passed before and listens intently, sure that he has heard a faint sound in the air. A soft rustle of leaves makes him raise his eyes hopefully into the branches above him and for a second thinks he sees a flash of gold on high, but, just as he is gathering himself to scale the tree, a small, yellow bird flits out from between the leaves, leaving a sweet trill in its wake, and as hope fades again his feet resume their aimless wandering.
With a deep sigh of relief the wood elf relaxes slightly as he sees the young man walk away once more. He was certain that he had been spotted in the tree and for one heart stopping moment he had thought that Estel was going to clamber up to his hiding place, until a saviour, in the shape of a small finch flew out to distract him.
Legolas sighs once more and tenderly strokes the roughened bark that supports him allowing himself to feel cocooned within the loving presence. He feels the strength of the tree pouring into him, it offers comfort freely as if able to sense the burdened mind of the wood elf and he accepts its unconditional love and support. He needs this solitude and communion with the trees, this time to accept his failings, his shame and think about what will come.
The one thing he has never been, even though the enraged elf he knew and once loved, had so recently and repeatedly told him he was, is cowardly. He has never shied from taking responsibility for his actions and this will be no different. For every action taken there is a reaction and he knows it will not be long before he must return home to face the consequences and he must be prepared for this.
Home. The thought of home brings a sadness to his sky blue eyes that mirrors the grief in his heart, that he must face his fathers disappointment fills him with shame.
The feeling of failure grows as he realises how badly he has let his father and his friends down and this makes his heart ache more than the thought of any punishment he must endure. A silver tear makes its way slowly down one porcelain cheek before being hurriedly brushed away. He will not weep, he will be strong and face his father and his people without flinching and with his head held high as a warrior should.
" What is done cannot be undone," he whispers. "I have let you down ada, I did not intend to, but I have and for that I will be eternally regretful, you deserve a better son."
He closes his eyes and breathes in the living scents that surround him as if savouring them for the last time then lithely drops from the tree and walks back to the last homely house heart aching but mind resolved.
The lord of Imladris watches his adopted son pace backwards and forwards restlessly across the grass through his study window, he knows the young man is trying hard to understand all that has happened but is unsure if he really comprehends what his best friend now faces. As much as he has been raised in the elven way of life he is human and the lord feels this difference between himself and the young prince is now going to test their friendship like never before.
Elronds heart is heavy with the thought of things to come. He knows that within a day, or two at the most, the party from Mirkwood will arrive, he does not think Thranduil will be among them as he rarely leaves his kingdom but his presence will be here none the less and the lord is unsure how the volatile king will have reacted to his message. That this has happened within Elronds realm will probably have fuelled the fires of the Kings ire and he can only hope that past animosity will not work against the young archer who has become so much a part of their family.
Wrapped up in his musings, eyes downcast to the floor, the young man fails to notice the others presence until he comes up against a pair of feet encased in soft, brown, leather boots. Raising his troubled grey eyes he looks into cerulean blue that flash briefly with grief then harden to become emotionless and stony.
" You look terrible." Legolas frowns as he takes in the unkempt hair and strained features before him. "You should really take more care of yourself Estel."
The young man gapes for a moment then throws his arms around the elf failing to notice the slight stiffening of his friends body in his elation.
"Where have you been?" Relief is written in every word. He releases the elf and takes a step back to take in the slight form before him. "I've been searching everywhere."
" Whatever for? " The archer raises one dark eyebrow nonchalantly. "I have been here, in Imladris," his voice is flat and emotionless. "Where did you think I would be?"
The young man is thrown for a moment by his friends dispassionate reply and a quizzical look settles upon his face.
" I, " he stutters, not knowing quite how to answer. " I was worried about you." The words seem so lame once he has uttered them and he suddenly feels like a child again. " I thought " he is unable to finish the sentence as the elf suddenly turns away.
"What did you think?" The elfs tone is harsh and unforgiving. " That I would need supporting in my 'hour of need'? That I would be crumbling under the strain, or that I would fade with grief?" The elf turns back to stare with cold unfeeling eyes. "Do you think me so weak Estel?"
The young man stares as the tirade washes over him, confusion and guilt warring on his face.
" Nay, Legolas," he manages finally to speak. " I thought to help, that is all, to listen if you wished to talk or," he pauses, unsure of himself now under the steely stare before continuing. "Just be there."
The last three words sound faint to his own ears as his heart is pounding so loudly it seems to drown all else out. This is absurd. This is his friend, yet, suddenly, he feels that he has never met this being before. The eyes, usually filled with light and love are like frozen lakes, hard and unforgiving, the face has lost its naïve joy of life to become an unreadable mask as if all emotion has been swept away to be replaced by an empty void.
" Saes, Legolas, mellon nin." An involuntary shudder passes down his spine as he tries to tear his eyes away from the wintry azure orbs seemingly intent on piercing his heart with icicle shards.
"I need no help." The words are flat and aloof as the elf turns to walk away. " I am fine Estel." The familiar mantra sounds wrong, hard and bitter, the normally lyrical voice a detached monotone, somehow grating to the ears.
The young man reaches out a hand to grasp the archers arm as he goes to move off and is dismayed to feel it shrugged off.
"Baw! No, let me go Estel!" There is a brief pause before the elf begins to move again, quickly covering the ground towards the house." Leave me be! "
And with this he is gone, leaving the young man standing under the trees, alone, confused and with an unexplained feeling of loss.