Author: Deathangelgw
Author email: deathangelgw@hotmail.com
Disclaimer: The characters belong to Tolkien, not me.
Though I wouldn’t mind them! ~_^
Warnings: AU, slight OOC, sap, angst, dark, lemon/lime
later, slash.
Pairings: Eventual Elrond/Legolas
Rating: For now, PG-13…eventual NC-17 to be expected.
Summary: A time to explore finds new things for a certain
Mirkwood prince
Notes: I am no expert on elvish language, so until I get a
good source, I’m waiting on it. I also have NOT read the books, but have seen
the movie and read a few fics. SO, the gist is there. I blame AC for her
absolutely INCREDIBLE pieces of fiction! So, if they resemble hers slightly,
SORRY! She’s an inspiration! Feedback is much loved and appreciated!
‘thoughts’
The wind whistled softly as the young flaxen haired Elf ran
through the tree branches. His hair streamed behind him like a silken cape as
he nimbly ran from branch to branch. He neither heard nor saw his surroundings
though, so deep were his thoughts. His feet were sure though in each placement,
assuredly finding the safety of the branches as he moved along.
He slowed down eventually and gazed around at his
surroundings. ‘Where am I?’ he wondered briefly, his pale blue eyes narrowing
slightly. ‘And how did I get so far from home?’ Ever since he had gotten an
urge to explore, he had been wandering, learning of the lands within Middle
Earth. He had briefly passed into Lothlorien and met the Elves of that land as
well.
His eyes saddened as he remembered the formal, yet cold
reception he had received from Galadriel and her people. ‘Our peoples grow more
and more apart as the centuries continue. When will the rifts heal? Will it be
in time? If Gandalf is right…the rifts must heal soon,’ he thought grimly to
himself. Sighing softly, he leapt up and landed lightly on the ground. His head
tilted up to gaze at the clouds as they floated serenely across the sky. He
listened to the gentle sounds of the breeze and birds floating in the air as he
stood within the peaceful glade.
Softly, he heard a rustling near him, a stealthy sound of
one’s approach. His sensitive ears picked up the noise, but he felt no danger.
‘Not Orcs…is it one of the elves of this land?’ he wondered as he stayed still,
looking relaxed as he tried to discern the danger.
He looked up suddenly as he heard a whistling in the air
and moved his head. A soft thud in the tree caught his attention. A silver
blade glinted from the tree trunk, missing its true target by a mere inch. His
eyes narrowed as they focused on the dagger briefly then turned to look in the
direction from which it had come from.
He heard another dagger come at him and dodged it again,
hearing it imbed itself into the trunk behind him. As another dagger flew at
him, he flipped out of the way, landing a couple of feet from his original spot
with his bow out and an arrow notched.
He stared unwaveringly ahead, hearing the rustles of
movement as his opponent moved around. He dodged another dagger, then shot in
the direction it came from. Hearing that he had missed, he started running
through the forest, grinning as he heard pursuit. He knew that the Elf attacking
him only wanted to chase him off, which meant he was indeed in another land.
They both ran through the forest, dodging and shooting at
each other. Flaxen hair streamed behind him as he ran until he came to the edge
of a torrid river. Skidding to a halt, he gasped then stiffened as he felt an
arm around his waist and a point at his throat. He swallowed hard, pale blue
eyes wide in surprise at being snuck up on so swiftly, and panted for air.
A soft warm breath caressed his sensitive ear as his
opponent whispered, “And who is it that has led such a wonderful chase today?”
Swallowing again in both trepidation and delight, he
answered softly, “Legolas, son of Thranduil and prince of Mirkwood.”
“Legolas of Mirkwood? What brings you so far from your
lands into my realm?” the mysterious man asked in interest as he caressed his
cheek against the flaxen silk of the youth.
Shivering at the touches, Legolas replied evenly, “It would
seem the fate of my life to be in the dark. I know not why I am here…just as I
know not the one I have had chase with.”
A soft chuckle whispered past Legolas’ ear as he was slowly
released. The youth didn’t move for a minute, then slowly turned curious blue
eyes to see his mystery unveiled. Sharp gray eyes met his inquisitive blue,
sparkling with both amusement and wariness. Chiseled yet soft features framed
the gaze; a gentle smile on soft lips that were pink from their chase graced the
thoughtful face. Long dark brunette locks floated serenely down the trim body,
intricate braids adorning them as they fluttered in the cooling breeze.
Finding himself entranced and intrigued, Legolas gazed
steadily at the Elf, at a loss for the sense of familiarity he had for his
mystery. Smiling softly, the blond one found himself asking, “To what name may I
give to this beauty before me?”
Smiling wider as he caught the slightest traces of a
mocking smirk, Legolas stepped closer. Suddenly, he looked up as a flock of
birds took to startled flight. When they had gone, he looked back down. Much
to his dismay though, the one who was nameless had vanished soundlessly, melding
back into the woods he protected. Sighing sadly, Legolas returned to the woods,
vowing silently to know the one whom he had chased this day.
*~~**~~*
Brunette silk floated through the breeze as the one named
Elrond walked silently into his valley. His thoughts however were not on the
beauty around him, but on the one to whom he had chased as the wind. He smiled
softly, remembering the soft golden mane, gentle yet inquisitive blue eyes and
firm yet soft features that framed the questing gaze. ‘He is indeed young…I had
thought the rumors of the young prince had been just words,’ the Lord of
Imladris, also named Rivendell, wondered to himself.
His attention was disrupted though by a soft voice. “My
Lord…you return from your journey well I see.” The Elf Lord looked up, smiling
as he was greeted warmly by his golden haired friend and advisor.
“It is good to see you, Glorfindel. Yes, my journey
was…insightful,” Elrond replied vaguely, allowing his maroon robes to be placed
on over his tunic and pants. He straightened his hair, then looked around. “My
children do not come to greet me?” he asked somewhat sadly as he turned his gray
hued gaze upon his age-old friend.
Glorfindel shook his head, grinning. “They prepare
something for my Lord and say to tell you that they shall be with you near
twilight,” he said soothingly.
Cocking an eyebrow in interest, Elrond said nothing as he
walked with his friend to their home.
TBC
