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Chapter Text

     Of all the places he had seen and journeyed to, none shall ever compete with the grandeur and elegance which was that of Lothlórien. The Lady Galadriel and her beauty, the surrounding forests and streams, there was a fine mist of comfort veiling the valley and everyone who entered. Naysayers would gripe and say of stories about monsters and witches and dark curses that lay within the woods, but none was true, for the fairest of creatures slept beyond, laying quiet in the darkness.

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     "The stars. They shimmer with an ethereal beauty." Called a voice from the shadows, a calm voice belonging to someone who most certainly was not supposed to be there.
     A whispering wind fluttered through the curtains where a young Elven prince sat, his hair shining and golden against the silver silk he wore. The smallest of sighs slipped past his lips.
     The prince spoke softly. "Haldir, is it? You must need something and it must be important if it was the cause for you to enter my room unannounced."
     "Forgive my intrusion, Lord Legolas. I bring a message from your father."
     Legolas turned to give the messenger his attention. Haldir continued.
     "He has summoned you back to Mirkwood and has requested you leave immediately. A carriage is already waiting outside to escort you." Haldir knelt before his prince and extended a hand, in his grasp was a single letter embellished with emerald lace and onyx words. And beautiful they were, poured onto the paper, but alas, t'was a guise to snare Legolas and bind him. His father wished him home as if there were a home to return to.
     Legolas turned his lip up at the pale parchment. "You can tell my father that his "well-wishes" are not gladly recieved. I wish only to stay here in Lórien. I'm content and at peace."
     Haldir took pause before he stood to face the prince. "I do not think it wise to send me away with that."
     "And did I ask you of your say in the matter?" Legolas snapped and swiftly stood. "My family is of no concern to you." His voice rose ever higher as the words came forth, cursing his father and the messenger he had sent.
     Haldir stepped away to allow the seething prince his space. "Forgive me for upsetting you, I will take my leave. Goodbye, mellón." He bowed then and abandoned the room as quietly as he had entered.

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     A thunderous racket was heard from above the towering pillars of the dining hall. All was still as Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel of Lothlórien lay witness to a rage they had never quite seen from the young Mirkwood prince before. Lady Galadriel spoke first to another Elf sitting opposite her, at the end of the table. He had been quiet all through their meal but she thought now was his time to speak.
     "Whatsoever did you relay to Legolas that has him so irritable, young Marchwarden?" She asked.
     "I fear I don't know. Lord Thranduil sent me to pass on a letter to him, though he reacted rather harshly to the words, whatever they may be."
     "I see you speak the Common Tongue. Hm. It matters not, will you be staying the night or must you make haste to the Woodland Realm?" The Lady in White questioned once more.
     Haldir tipped his chin down in pondering thought, only taking a moment until his eyes rose to meet Lady Galadriel's warm blue glow. "No. I'm afraid I must be going shortly after dinner. My thanks to you and your husband for such gracious hospitality."
     "Nonsense. It was our pleasure after the long journey you took to get here."
     Haldir tipped his chin again, this time with respect. "Much obliged." A pause between breaths. "My Lady, if I may ask, my horse was made lame on the trip, his hoof was injured. Is there any way possible I could leave him here to heal? I will return soon to take him home, but he needs rest and nourishment though I do not."
     She bowed her head at a slight tilt. "Of course. We will provide him with the best care possible until you return. You may use one of our mares whilst you are without your companion, I hope she will suit you."
     The golden-haired Elf stood, bowed, then excused himself, but not before eyes caught sight of him. Blue eyes. Watchful eyes. Waiting eyes. Haldir was walking right to him. (Past him, really, but it's all the same any way you look at it.) Legolas stood quietly near the entrance to the hall, against the intricately carved birch and elm. Little flowers and leaves had left their mark on it, delicately woven in a tangled dance of nature and beauty. One in the same.
     Haldir stepped a foot nearest Legolas and his expression warped into something Legolas couldn't recognize. Confusion. Pity. Respect. He dare not try to name it. The messenger flicked his eyes to the prince for a mere second, taking long strides out of sight afterwards. Legolas had been left alone in the hall with his thoughts and, as calm as they were, his heart was in a state of desperate turmoil. His eyes lingered on the spot where Haldir had slipped around the corner, wondering. Wondering why his emotions tugged at his better judgement and forced him to desire more knowledge of his father's messenger.

Chapter Text

     "Galion, pray tell, has my father sent word about the frontlines as of yet?" Said Legolas from his nice and comfy pillow-covered bed stacked to the edges with finely brushed furs and specially crafted silks and delicately handwoven quilts. A bed fit for a King, or Prince in this very instance.
     The Elf in question was young-looking with long brown hair and warm brown eyes, though his looks are deceiving. He is well over thousands of years old! He serves as the Elven King Thranduil's royal butler but tags along to keep a sharp eye on Legolas at the King's insistence.
     He finished neatly sorting a few papers on a study desk in the corner and stood to address the prince. "No, my Lord, your father was quite upset at your recent rebellion. He hasn't said much on the matter, but I'm sure he was furious."
     Legolas gave the tiniest of scoffs and turned his face toward the only open window in his room, the one closest to the balcony. The stars had just barely begun to peek through the clouds and Legolas noted that he should go for a stroll under their starlight before bed. "If he hadn't been so cruel maybe I wouldn't be so rebellious."
     "He only wants what is best for you. You know that as well as I do."
     "Then he should dare not try to command my heart!" The Elven prince hollered, not caring if the whole of Lothlorién heard. "Trying to put an elleth on my arm without so much as asking for my approval. Who does he think he is? I myself think anyone would like to know who they were getting involved with before they're involved."
     Galion gently lay his hand on Legolas' back, a comfort, for the young Elf had started to shake with fallen tears. He had seen the Elfling cry on very few occasions, but this one seemed well within reason. A controlling, overprotective father and a royal life he was born into were not easy burdens to bear. Many years of living in Thranduil's shadow can eventually take a harsh toll on the one who lingers in it and Galion tried to be there for him every moment it was needed though sometimes he was forcefully pushed away.
     Not that Thranduil meant to be that way, no, Galion knew better than anyone of how wholeheartedly he loved his son, Little Leaflet he used to call him as a child and Legolas adored it. But his father had changed, shifted into somewhat of a foreign stranger in the disguise of a once loving parent.
     "Do you remember when Father used to take me outside the castle walls and he would teach me to find berries and seeds and lichen and all the nice things you could cook? And he would hum while we rode along the winding Western stream to hunt for a nice deer to bring home even though it wasn't his duty? He was the King, but he used to not care about keeping appearances. He used to be different, didn't he? Or did I imagine all the beautiful and fun things we did together?" Legolas whispered through his repeated sniffling.
     Galion could only brush his long-fingered hand through Legolas' golden hair while he willed the Elfling to lay back down and sleep. A gentle hum rose from his throat to possibly lull him into sleep faster, but Legolas' eyes refused and stayed ever open. So Galion sat down on the edge of the plush bed and wrapped his arms firmly around the young prince, tight though not overpowering.
     Legolas sighed a warm breath on Galion's neck and nestled into the curve of his shoulder. "Thank you." He whispered. "You always know what to do."
     "Shh, shh. Sleep. You need your rest, Leaflet." Responded Galion still smoothing his hand across Legolas' hair and back. And soon, after much effort on Galion's part, Legolas finally fell into a deep dreamless slumber from his perch on Galion's shoulder.

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     The next morning was very hurried for Legolas and his aide. Elves pacing this way and that, backward and forward, up and down all through the marbled halls you could hear the shuffling of their soft shoes and the clickety clack of plates being organised and arranged. For these were all the well and good signs that a great festival was about to arrive. Legolas had tried and failed to gather more information about what was happening, all he got were the words "marriage" "feast" "must hurry" and "feast" again. By the Valar, these Silvan Elves move quick when they need something done whereas the ones he knew back home liked the slow, meandering life of the castle. Nothing interesting or unexpected ever rarely happened in Mirkwood and Thranduil liked to keep it that way.
     At least breakfast wasn't so absurdly out of order except for a few servants who were hushedly whispering amongst themselves and giggling and such. Legolas was so terribly curious as to whom was getting married but he dare not ask out of fear of interrupting the peaceful aura settled around the table. He stole a glance at Galion who was seated on his right and gave him a look with the most desperate attempt at unsaid words he'd ever done. Galion was quite content at the moment chewing on his piece of sausage and cheese that he barely noticed the prince's eyes searing holes through his head. Swallowing the piece of meat in his mouth and trading his fork for a napkin he subtly leaned over to hear what Legolas wanted to say.
     "Whoever is being wed today and am I invited?" Legolas whispered for Galion's ear only.
     "I'm not all that sure myself as she is in distant relation to a family here, though I believe the whole Kingdom is welcome to the festivities." He whispered back just as softly.
     The rest of breakfast went along nicely and afterwards Legolas found a good quiet spot in the garden to rest his eyes and read the book he'd been meaning to for a long while now. He didn't know who it was from as there was not a name in sight when a polite elleth servant had set it on his dresser and left without giving him a chance to question a thing. It was a beautiful dark brown leather book with little silver flecks smattering the edges and a ruby red ribbon set in the spine as a bookmark of sorts. Sindarin Poems & Verses he read to himself as one of his long fingers traced the gold lettering on the front cover. With a steady breath he opened the cover and it creaked with that newly-opened-book kind of sound.
     Legolas had never thought himself to be interested in things so trivial as poetry, but he found that he quite enjoyed the simple yet elegantly formed verses he had read so far. One in particular caught his eye the most.

In the stars I see light
Away you are hid
From the cold, lonely night
Behind hinges and wood.

How I wish I could touch
Though I fear I may doubt
Just a touch, not much
What that could bring about.

In the cold, lonely night
Dark ne're finds you
There dwell your light
In the cage that doth bind you.

     It wasn't a very traditional poem by any means yet it was so humbling and simple that Legolas couldn't help falling in love with it. He dragged his hand across the handwritten ink thinking about whoever wrote it. They must be terribly alone to create something so sad.
     Legolas closed the book, having had his fill of depressing poetry for the day, and stood to smooth the wrinkles out of his silk gown. A beautiful green it was, long-sleeved and soft. His favorite. He had wanted to start wearing jewelry to match but soon found that he couldn't find a single piece worthy of its beauty. Many days he sifted through his father's treasury casting aside emerald circlets and sapphire rings and golden bracelets and opal necklaces. Nothing seemed to fit. Until he eventually decided it best to give up entirely. He was never much of a jewelry person anyway.
     "It's rare to see you in the royal gardens. We're you in need of a fresh breath of air?" Someone said from behind Legolas, too close for comfort. He hadn't even heard them approach.
     Legolas turned in a hurry and was now face to face with Lord Celeborn, Galadriel's husband. He hoped his reaction hadn't been disrespectful to the much older Elf.
     "My Lord," Legolas bowed lowly. "I apologize for my abrupt reaction, you seem to have startled me."
     Celeborn laughed lightheartedly which made Legolas dare to peek up from where his eyes were plastered to the ground.
     "Lord?" Legolas was now standing straight up now, peering into Celeborn's pale eyes.
     "Dear me, many apologies for giving you such a fright. I just couldn't stand by so idly without speaking with you for a moment."
     "About what, my Lord?" Legolas questioned further trying not to sound forceful or too curious.
     "Nothing in particular, simple small talk. Though I would like to know why you refuse your father so strongly." Said Celeborn.
     "He..." Legolas gulped and stood even straighter then. "King Thranduil wishes me to wed soon even at the cost of my own happiness. He does not care if my feelings are nonexistent."
     "I see. Your affections are elsewhere though, are they not?" Celeborn said softly.
     Legolas stared, utterly aghast at what the Lord was assuming, even if it was correct it would never be considered right.
     "My Lord. I assure you there isn't anyone who has caught my heart's eyes yet."
     "No? Perhaps not. Perhaps it's just an interest as you haven't had a good amount of conversation. I know you were there at dinner some days ago, watchful of a particular guest at the table." Celeborn said as he intertwined his fingers behind his back.
     Again the prince was at a loss for words. Lord Celeborn could see through him and read his very soul, nothing could escape his gaze.
     "Do not mistake my words for judgment, young one. I'm not scrutinizing you or your choices of interest, I merely want you to be cautious. We both know your father would never approve of someone such as that."
     Legolas opened his eyes (since when had he closed them?) to face Lord Celeborn and his words but he was gone before he had a chance. Legolas sighed as he went back to retrieve his book of poems from the stone bench he'd left it on and then studied the cover once more. He flipped and flipped until he came across the poem from before, the one he liked so dearly. His eyes then wandered back up to the sky as they always did when he felt alone, there were no stars as it was barely midday but he could feel their lingering light. Clutching the book to his chest, he sighed once more.

Chapter Text

     After the not-so-humbling conversation with Lord Celeborn Legolas decided it best to just retire to his room for the remaining hours of the day much to Galion's appalment. He'd spent at least an hour running behind Legolas trying to convince him that he "should really reconsider" and "there will be a grand party tonight, of course you should be there" and "Lady Galadriel will be most displeased if you don't show up." Legolas wasn't hearing any of it. All he wanted to do was relax in his fluffy bed and read more from that book of poems.
     "Are you going to stare at me like that all night?" Asked Galion who was perched over the balcony looking out at the festivities. "Because, if so, I regrettably have to inform you that I'm not interested." He said once more while he peeked over his shoulder at the prince.
     "O, shut it!" Legolas huffed.
     Canting back and forth over the balcony edge, Galion audibly set his palms on the marble and gave a sharp exhale. "Well, I don't know about you, but there's a party down there and I'm not missing it."
     "Fine," Legolas said. "Go on. Leave me here alone to die of boredom." And then he fell back into his soft bed and wallowed around in the fur blankets.
     Galion groaned and leaned back off the ledge. "You won't die of boredom, Legolas. I only mean to be gone for an hour or so. I could find out whose wedding it is, too. Does that sound like something you'd want to know?"
     The Elf thought for a moment, measuring the price of both: Galion staying and Galion leaving. On one hand he would have company all night and on the other he would be alone for a little while but also learn more about what was going on outside his window. I think I speak for everyone when I say which choice was the obvious one. Legolas seemed to think so too.
     He crossed his arms from where he lay. "Very well."
     "Wait," Galion spun around and gawked. "Really? You're certain?"
     "Yes, now go!"
     Galion jumped at Legolas' raised voice. It wasn't out of anger and he knew that, it just caught him so off guard. Legolas laid back again onto the silk pillows and stretched his long arms above his head while he listened to Galion's ruckus in the next room. Normally he would barge in and make fun of all the silly things his aide tried on, but this time he felt like being a decent friend. The other Elf wasn't terrible at choosing clothes when he really wanted to impress and tonight certainly was one of those "dress to impress" events.
     Not even half an hour after he left Galion was back in the center of Legolas' room showing off his choice. One of which, Legolas noted, was a gift from the prince himself. A long and elegant saffron coloured robe with silver trickles of leaves falling down to the hem. His undercoat was a flattering shade of deep blue and green with loopy gold patterns around the cuffs. Legolas believed it was good attire, though he soon came to see that the colours shouldn't have looked as good as they did together. Gold mingled with silver and ocean blue with autumn orange? The atrocity it would be at a formal event. That only meant that Legolas had to allow it. It was quite obvious. He wanted to hear the gasps and murmurs from the crowd whilst standing safely on his balcony snickering at Galion's efforts.
     "So?" Galion said, a quirky smile set on his pale face.
     "I like it. It suits you." Legolas mused quietly. And it was true. The robe truly did match Galion's appearance, especially his eyes but Legolas would never admit that bit out loud. Truth be told there was a time when the young prince was undeniably fond of his father's butler. Not a repulsive, odd fondness, no, just curious and intrigued. Merely a fleeting thought as it was, Legolas realized he was a tad different from other young Elves his age. And when you think 'young' think Elven, about two centuries sort of young.
     Galion set his hands firmly on his hips and rested his weight onto one leg and then let out a great dramatic huff. "Is that all the great Prince of Mirkwood has to say? Legolas the Prince of Flattery only says a few words now when he was so keen on being talkative earlier."
     "Hush. I'm tired of talking, that's all. Now, please, leave me alone to read and go enjoy the party." Said Legolas as he opened his book of lonely poems once more and leaned back onto his pillow-piled bed.
     Galion's gaze flicked to the book in his hands and he frowned at its presence. "You would rather read melancholy writing than have fun and dance and sing at a wedding celebration? Excuse my boldness but that isn't like you at all."
     Legolas skimmed the words in front of him not caring nor wanting to look up at the brown-eyed Elf. "I just want to be alone right now."
     "Very well." Galion sighed as his back turned toward the door. "I hope you join the celebrations later tonight. I'd like to see what you wear." And with those final sentences he was gone, strolling through the halls and down to the gardens.

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     The cold, damp feeling of loneliness was something Prince Legolas had know for most of his adult life excluding what time he spent with Galion. His days were almost always planned the day before and nothing unexpected ever happened.
     Usually.
     It had been around a quarter of an hour with Galion gone and Legolas had hardly noticed his absence, just barely. Deep in his heart Legolas wished he hadn't allowed the Elf to go and leave him all alone but there wasn't much he could do about it afterwards. All he really could do was read and mope about and quietly entertain himself and for around twenty minutes he had done exactly that. Then, when it was close to midnight and he was bored with twirling his hair the strangest noise emitted from his balcony. Legolas couldn't tell if it was a wild squirrel or a bird that had hit the window, but it made him want to investigate nonetheless.
     He removed the book from his lap and stood slowly, taking care not to make much sound. As he moved nearer he heard a soft thud and a word of pain after. It certainly wasn't an animal then. He smoothed his nightrobe out since he now suspected he would be in the company of another very soon. And he was right. As he rounded the corner to his balcony a head of blond hair came into view and he flinched at its suddenness.
     It was another Elf, Legolas knew, though he couldn't see their face the ears gave them away. That and the probability that no Man could climb that high and not have fallen yet. Legolas inspected them as they got closer and closer, his eyes scanned the ground below and to his bewilderment no one was noticing that someone was climbing the lattice to his room.
     The other Elf was getting so close to the window that it made Legolas' heart beat with such a ferocity that he was sure the stranger could hear it as well. He didn't know what to do in a situation like this, run or hope that they aren't hostile and invite them for tea? No, that was far-fetched.
     "By the Valar, these vines are horrid." Legolas heard the other Elf mutter. Now he could breathe. Confident that it wasn't an attack on his life simply because he recognized the voice.
     He leaned over the white marbled stone once more and whispered down to the Elf. "Whatever are you doing down there? You know your outfit will be ruined."
     The blond Elf lost his balance for a moment, then gripped onto the bottom of the stone overhang, right near Legolas' shoe. "You startled me." He whispered back.
     "Really? I should be the one who's startled. There's a strange thing climbing up my balcony in the middle of the night making scary noises." He crossed his arms. "You're lucky I didn't call for the guards."
     "I'm sorry, forgive me. I would have used the door but it seemed you didn't wish to be disturbed."
     Legolas uncrossed his arms and tilted his head. "What do you mean?"
     "I mean," He strained as he pulled himself up and over the ledge before sitting on the railing. "There's a red cloth around your door handle."
     Legolas backed away to allow the Elf more space. "There's no such thing." He said, then paused in thought. "Unless my aide put it there when he left."
     "Most likely. Again, I truly am sorry for the intrusion but I felt I had to speak with you tonight."
     Legolas quirked a brow. "And what could Haldir the Marchwarden want with me on a night like this?"
     "A talk. That's all." Haldir said, sounding sincere enough for Legolas to move aside and let him in.
     Legolas walked the length to his bed and sat down on the plush blankets, then pulled the poetry book into his lap and absentmindedly traced the lettering on the front. Haldir watched with quiet eyes until Legolas prompted him to speak.
     "What is it you need to speak about?"
     Haldir hesitated. "Your father."
     "Not this again." The prince sighed. "I thought I told you to get it across that I didn't want to talk to him."
     "No, it's not about that. I only meant that I wanted to ask why you're so cold to him." Haldir corrected with haste.
     Legolas stared at the Elf in front of him wishing it wasn't rude to laugh. "My father is insensitive and foul. He doesn't pity anyone even if it's justified. All he wants is a successful lineage from me and I don't wish to do that so he resorts to anger."
     "I see." Haldir was at a loss of words. Legolas could sense it.
     "There's no need to feel sorry for my situation. And there's also no need for you to stand awkwardly in the corner." Said the prince while he tapped an area of the bed next to him. "Sit, please."
     The Marchwarden hesitated once more. "I'm not entirely sure this is appropriate." He stepped back.
     "None of this is 'appropriate.' It's late and a lowly Marchwarden sneaks into the Prince of Mirkwood's quarters wanting to talk like old friends. Does that sound at all normal to you?" Legolas mused still keeping his laugh well hidden from Haldir using a sneer as its disguise. On an off topic note, he hadn't had the time to truly drink in Haldir's appearance until now but he had to admit that the Elf wasn't all that bad to look at.
     "Are you not going?" Haldir's calming voice sliced through his ogling.
     "What?" He unknowingly stuttered out.
     Haldir gave the slightest of smiles. "The party. Aren't you going?" He repeated.
     Legolas composed himself then, hoping and praying to the Valar that his curious eyes hadn't reached Haldir's. Fortunately, they hadn't. In fact, Legolas was almost certain the Marchwarden was completely oblivious to every look he'd given him so far.
     "Well?" Said Haldir in response to his silence.
     "O, no." Legolas dismissed with a shake of his head. "No. I wouldn't be caught wandering around at that reception. Besides I don't have any clothes nice enough to wear. Or jewelry for that matter."
     Haldir gave a small hum and closed his eyes. Legolas wished he hadn't. His eyes were pleasing to look upon in the moonlight, as was his hair and practically every other thing about him but the prince kept those dangerous thoughts to himself.