Disclaimer: See default chapter

Chapter 23

I hope you dance

I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance
Never settle for the path of least resistance
Living might mean taking chances, but they're worth taking
Loving might be a mistake but it's worth making

Don't let some hell bent heart leave you bitter
When you come close to selling out, reconsider
Give the heavens above more than just a passing glance
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance

I hope you dance

(I hope you Dance by Lee Ann Womack)

*~*~*~*

The next few days passed easily for Legolas, who for most of the time was sound asleep. He was woken to eat and not much else... He was rapidly regaining his strength much to everyone’s relief, but there was still a shadow in Galion’s eyes that worried Thranduil. There was something that the healer wasn’t telling them.

Thranduil planned to talk with Galion after breaking fast the next morning, but found that Galion wanted to speak with the entire family and the others from Rivendell that afternoon after finishing his exam on Legolas.

And so he found himself sitting, waiting once more for Galion to appear.

*~*~*

Galion straightened his face to an unreadable mask. He wordlessly re- bandaged the Prince’s leg before turning and exiting the door.

Legolas watched curiously as the door shut behind the healer. He strained to listen to what Galion would say to his Ada, siblings and friends.

“His leg isn’t healing as I would have liked.” The words were softly spoken probably because Galion knew that Legolas was trying to eavesdrop. “Right now you need to face the possibility that Legolas will never walk without a crutch.

The words were like a bombshell to the bedridden prince.

“I am still doing all that I can, but there is more than a slight chance that he will need crutches.”

Legolas sank back into the pillows, unable to believe what he had just heard.

“I’m sorry.” Galion apologized. “If I had been able to properly set his leg that very first day and would have been able to get the bone fragments out, there might have been a chance.” There was long pause then. “It will take a miracle if he will ever get out of that bed by himself at this point.”

Tears pricked the bedridden prince’s eyelids. ‘What was the use anymore?’ He thought miserably. ‘Why try to heal when he would never be able to walk without a crutch?’

So lost in his thoughts, the prince didn’t hear the door quietly open and close.

“You heard?” The king asked, softly.

Startled, gray-blue eyes met ones just like his. Legolas nodded, turning his gaze toward the ceiling. “I never thought that I would end up like this.” The voice was mockingly bitter. “A crippled elf. Not much use for one of those around here.”

“Don’t say that!” Thranduil cried out shocked.

Legolas choked back bitter tears. “It’s true though.” He said quietly. “Who needs a crippled elf? You might as well just give me to the spiders.”

Stop it.” The king’s voice replaced the father’s.

“But Galion...” The prince protested, but was interrupted.

“Galion.” Thranduil stated softly.” Also said that you wouldn’t live past four month after your birth.” He smirked.

Legolas swallowed back a smile. He wasn’t quite sure if laughing at his healer was something he should do... Especially Galion.

Thranduil smoothed back the golden hair and placed a gently kiss upon the brow. “Do not let your heart become too restless, nin ion. Galion always did like presenting the worst-case scenarios, but I usually don’t put too much trust in them.” He stood up. “I have little doubt that you will be up in a few weeks, walking around and driving us all insane with your daring tricks with the Rivendell twins and Aragorn.” He teased lightly, happy to see the light back in the eyes.

“Sleep now.” He ordered, and quietly left the room.

Legolas waited with baited breath until the door closed and the prince couldn’t hear anyone else coming or going outside the room. He threw off the covers and reached underneath a cloth on a nearby table and withdrew a sharp six-inch knife.

All other sharp instruments had been removed from the rather moody elf’s room in the healing ward, just in case. But there was one that they had missed.

He carefully placed the knife at the top of the bandage on his leg and slowly began to cut away. He wanted to see what Galion was so worried about and he knew that even if he requested to see his leg would be struck down immediately. So he had come up with a different way.

He felt a little guilty for disobeying Galion, but he needed to see his leg. As he carefully cut away at the white bandage, and slowly revealed his leg, bitterness rose in his throat.

So this was his leg.

The skin looked like it had been almost completely rubbed off in several places, and there was a neat row of stitches in the very center of his shin. It was badly bruised and swollen to almost twice its normal size. From the knee down it was nearly black because of the bruising. But what was the most startling was the fact that when he lined up both legs, his left leg, the wounded one, appeared to be almost... crooked.

Almost as if someone had taken his leg in their hands and bent it inward.

‘What was the use?’ The appalled prince thought. ‘They should have just cut it off.’

Bitter tears welled up in the crystal gray-blue eyes and for the first time, Legolas actually looked at the knife in his tightly clenched fist.

Looking up he caught his reflection in a mirror across the room; he watched almost hypnotized as the pale slender hand slowly placed the knife to the blue veins on his other wrist.

With a start he shook himself, mentally berating himself. Was this what it had come to? Dying like a coward just because Galion didn’t know if his leg would straighten or heal correctly?

With a curse, the prince threw the knife across the room and watched in morbid fascination as the point of the knife caught the middle of the mirror, the very center of its weakness and shattered. The loud crash immediately drew people in, namely Aragorn, the twins, Halbarad and Haldir.

Legolas quickly threw the covers back over his legs and waited for their arrival.

They had decided to see the bedridden prince and finally introduce him to Haldir, when a loud crash had been heard sending them helter skelter into the room.

The weakened prince was trying to pull himself more into an upright position, but was sinking down all the further.

“Legolas?” Aragorn questioned softly.

“What?!” Legolas snapped back, irritated with his body’s apparent weakness. Though it had only been three days since Galion had operated, Legolas was feeling rather claustrophobic in the stuffy room.

“What are you doing?” Elladan spoke up,

“What does it look like?” Legolas frowned.

“Doing what you aren’t supposed to be.” Elrohir replied.

“Now Legolas.” Aragorn reprimand lightly. “We only came here to say hello and to introduce you to Haldir.”

Legolas moved his glare to Haldir.

The March warden hid a grin, thinking that Legolas looked exactly like Thranduil when he glared.

”Well I am happy to met you and wish you the best as you make your home in Mirkwood for a few weeks.” Legolas said through gritted teeth, trying desperately to ignore the gnawing pains all over his body.

“Few months.” Aragorn supplied suddenly.

“Few months?” Legolas repeated, looking rather curious.

“The passes have all been blocked off so Ada sent a message telling us that if it was ok with your Ada to remain in Mirkwood until the snow has melted sufficiently.” Elladan explained.

“We are all situated around your room.” Halbarad spoke up. “Aragorn is next to you, then the twins, then it is me and then last.” He threw a cheeky grin at the other blonde elf. “But not least is Haldir.”

With a groan Legolas finally gave up.

With a crunch, Aragorn carefully stepped through the shards of glass then suddenly bent down. “What is this Legolas?” He demanded, holding up the knife.

Legolas sighed. “It’s a knife Aragorn.” He replied, looking up at the ceiling.

“I know that.” Aragorn retorted. “But why is it here in all the glass?”

“Because I threw it!” Legolas yelled, the pounding his head was the same rhythm as the pounding ache in his leg and back. “And don’t ask why I threw it because I won’t answer!!!!”

Aragorn was taken aback at the sheer fury in Legolas’ eyes. He had only seen that kind of fury when the prince was fighting orcs.

“That’s quite enough out of you young prince.” Thalion stated firmly. “You will apologize at once.”

Legolas, shamefaced mumbled an apology.

“Now, if you don’t mind.” Thalion smiled. “I would like some time with my little brother.”

“Of course.” Elladan replied for all of them.

After they had filed out and Aragorn had given Thalion the knife, and Thalion had closed the door, he turned to the prince, who was still pouting.

Thalion seated himself on a nearby chair, tossing the knife from one hand to the other. “What’s the matter?” He asked causally.

“Didn’t you hear what Galion said?” Legolas blurted out.

“Yes.” Thalion replied calmly. “I don’t really believe that will happen though.”

“It’s not just that.” Legolas sighed, allowing himself to ease up and relax.

“Oh?”

Legolas hesitated. Then without a word, threw off the covers, revealing his opened bandages.

“Ai Legolas.” Thalion sighed, shaking his head. “And why did you do that?”

“Just look at it Thalion!” Legolas blurted out. “It’s crooked.”

Thalion studied the leg carefully, then quietly replaced the covers. “I’ll have Miriwen come to re-bandage it.” He stated calmly.

“And what about my leg?” Legolas pressed.

“It will heal fine.” Thalion reassured.

“How do you know?” Legolas snorted.

“Because.” Thalion replied calmly ignoring the frown on his youngest brother’s face. “Even if it is crooked you will still be able to walk, ride and probably even run as you used to.”

Legolas sighed in response. He hated the weak, helpless feeling that stood in his chest. He hated it. He hated how despair could easily weasel its way into his heart and mind.

“You don’t remember Edrahil do you?” Thalion commented lightly, his brow furrowed in thought.

“Edrahil?” Legolas repeated curiously.

“No.” Thalion exclaimed, clasping his hands behind his head. “You wouldn’t would you? He left for the Valinor about two years before you were born.”

“So are you going to tell me who Edrahil is or not?” Legolas snapped, a bit wearily.

Thalion smirked. “With that sort of attitude, defiantly not. I think you need some more herbs to ease the pain.”

“What pain?” The prince retorted.

“The pain in your leg and back, not to mention that rasp I can hear in your voice.” Thalion replied angrily. He was getting frustrated with his little brother, so much so that the elder wanted to smack some sense into the dull witted brain.

Legolas, sensing some of his brother’s anger, quieted his emotions, smoothing out his face. “I’m sorry Thalion.” He whispered, casting his eyes downward. “It is wrong for me to despair.”

“Nay.” Thalion lifted the chin up. “It is not, but it is wrong to lash out in such a manner.” His lips quirked in a small grin, gently telling the younger that he had forgiven and forgotten already.

Unable to help himself, Legolas grinned back, feeling the headache ease slightly, but not the pain in his leg and back. Not to mention the rather painful ache in his chest.

“I’ll go call Miriwen.” Thalion said quietly. “You lay back and rest.”

“Thalion?” Legolas called out as his older brother half exited the door.

Thalion turned back. “Yes?”

“What will happen to Siovan?”

“Why?” Thalion questioned.

“He...” Legolas hesitated. “He’s different from the rest of them.” He frowned in thought. “I don’t know how I know, I just do.” He looked up. “Have you interrogated him yet?”

“No.” Thalion gave a half smile. “We haven’t exactly even thought about him. You take a nap and I will talk to Adar about him.”

Legolas sighed and nodded in agreement. “Promise you’ll tell me what you find out?” He asked hopefully.

“Only if you take a nap and drink your tea.” Thalion replied.

The youngest prince grimaced. “You mean the drugged tea.”

Thalion laughed. “Yes I do.”

Legolas frowned. “Sometimes I hate you.” He muttered.

Thalion laughed.

*~*~*

‘Drip’. ‘Drip’. ‘Drip’. ‘Drip’.

Siovan sighed, so this is what his life had come to. Captured and forgotten in a dank cell, far beneath the earth.

It was rather funny, but the Easterling had always thought that elves hated the dark.

A rattle of keys caught his attention. A tall, blonde haired stepped through the door holding a plateful of something. He was very careful not to spill it and gently set it down on the stone, then with a flourish brought out a knife, fork and spoon as well as a napkin.

Siovan stared startled, from what he usually heard, this was not the usual treatment of prisoners.

The blonde elf stated what was on the plate then left.

Quite hesitantly, Siovan stood and walked over to the plate. It smelled wonderful, far better than anything he had eaten in a long time. Taking the spoon he carefully placed it in the small bowl and took a careful sip.

As the warm soup slid down his throat, he suddenly realized that someone was watching him. His eyes quickly skittered upward toward the small window on the door.

The blonde elf grinned happily, and strode whistling away.

Rather confused, Siovan shrugged and continued to eat. After a bit he took the small loaf of bread and carefully broke it and sopped up the rest of the soup.

There was even a small flask on the edge of the plate and when the Easterling pulled the cork off he smelled the sweet scent of age-old wine.

A key rattled again and the blonde elf stepped through, in his hand he carried a small goblet. “I apologize.” The elf said whimsically. He smoothly set the glass on the rock and then left yet again

Ever so gently, Siovan poured a small amount into the glass and took a small sip. It tasted of strawberries, a rather surprising taste, but none the less a very good taste.

He carefully cleaned the plate off then sat back the goblet of wine in his hand.

He had not been shackled upon arriving in the cell and indeed saw nothing in the cell that would even give a thought that chains were ever part of the cell.

He sipped the wine again, the warm soothing alcohol sliding down his throat.

The key jangled in the lock and the door opened to reveal yet another blonde elf, but this elf happened to wear a crown on his head.

Siovan stood immediately.

“I am Prince Thalion, Thranduillion.” The elf stated calmly.

“I am Siovan.” The human returned, just as calmly.

“I have heard much about you from my little brother, Legolas.” He paused then continued. “He was captured and taken as a slave.”

Siovan nodded. “I know.” He smiled faintly. “He is very brave your little brother.”

Thalion smiled and nodded. “He is at that.”

The Easterling studied him. “Why are you here?”

“Legolas wanted me to talk to you.” Thalion replied.

“Why?” The question was simple, yet tough.

“He believes you are different from the rest of your race.” Thalion hesitated.

“And how would he know such things?” Siovan sneered.

“Well he was technically a slave for a few days in your camp.” Thalion bit back.

To his credit, Siovan looked downward. “It was something that should not have happened.”

“Why.” Thalion pushed.

“He was pure.” Siovan said simply. “Innocent.” He shook his head. “But no more.”

“He still is pure.” Thalion snapped, his eyes fiery.

“In body, yes.” Siovan agreed. “But in mind, no.”

“What do you mean?” Thalion took an aggressive step forward.

“Tourec is someone who is hated by everyone.” Siovan explained slowly. “His ways were not of us. He acted differently. Spoke differently. Even slept differently. He...” The Easterling struggled to put words to what he needed to say. “As a child he was beaten badly and many thought that his head had been damaged.”

Thalion nodded patiently, wondering why the Easterling was telling him this and where it would lead too.

“Everyone feared him.” Siovan paused. “Everyone knew that slaves that went to him were never the same after his treatment.”

“So why did you give Legolas to him!” Thalion shouted suddenly. “Why!” His hands balled into fists. “Why did you give my little brother to an animal!”

“Because I hated him.” Siovan whispered his face haunted. “I hated the innocence in his eyes, I wanted him to suffer as I did, to bleed as I did.” His shamed eyes fell downward at his own confession. “I wanted him to hate me as I hated him.”

“Well he does not hate you.” The prince whispered.

Siovan crumpled. “Then may the gods kill me for what I have done.”

“Nay!” Thalion was quick to cry protest. “Nay, the Valar has spared you for some reason. There is no reason for you to die now.”

“Ai, I cannot die.” Siovan muttered. “I have tried but I cannot.”

“Then you must live.” Thalion stated.

“And what if I do not wish to?” Siovan asked helplessly.

“Then take your life and be ride of it.” Thalion replied harshly.

The Easterling was shocked. “Take my own...?” He gasped lightly. “Die as a coward?” He shook his head. “No, I will not.” He lifted tear filled eyes to the prince.

Thalion smiled and stretched out his hand. “Perhaps I can help you then.”

“How?” Siovan asked almost fearfully.

“In exchange for information, I can assure you that you will be released outside of Mirkwood.” He paused. “And never return.”

“You cannot do that.” Siovan stated solemnly, looking a bit startled. “Only a king can do that.”

Thalion smiled. “Ada?” He turned.

Thranduil walked through the door. “Do you agree to the terms?” He questioned.

Unable to answer Siovan nodded.

Thranduil smiled grimly. “Then it is agreed. Thalion you will take care of him.” He nodded shortly to the prisoner then turned and left.

“Come Siovan.” Thalion helped the Easterling up. “First you need a bath and clean clothes before I question you.”

“Prince Thalion?” Siovan queried. “Why are you doing this?”

“Every so often in the cloudiness of a day, there can be seen a faint ray of sunlight.” Thalion smiled then headed out the door, leaving the Easterling to follow him and wonder if his question had been answered or not.