Title: The Price of Peace 3
     Author: Tesekian
     Email: Tesekian@yahoo.co.uk
     Pairing: Aragorn/Legolas
     Rating: NC-17
     Summary: Legolas regrets his words. 
     Warnings: There will be rape in a later chapter. 
     
     ***
     
     Legolas woke the sound of soft footsteps across a rug. The sounds of
cupboards and doors being opened and closed softly, in an attempt not to disturb
him. Legolas opened his eyes and, in the early light creeping around the
curtains, saw Elessar dressing. The man's position rewarded Legolas with a fine
view of his naked back, a smooth expanse of skin held taut over firm muscles. 
     
     Elessar was moving quietly as he pulled on his clothes, clearly thinking
that Legolas still slept. Legolas closed his eyes and allowed the illusion to
remain, since he wasn't certain he was ready to face Elessar just yet. The words
spoken in anger the previous night were too clear still in his memory. 
     
     Legolas must have drifted back into slumber because, when he next opened
his eyes, he was alone in the room. He had only managed to fall asleep when it
was very late the night before, so he was tired now. He stood, and went to the
windows. Judging from the sun, it was still morning, the day barely begun. It
was hardly surprising that Elessar had woken early given how he had gone to
sleep. 
     
     Legolas washed and dressed, and checked his appearance in the mirror to
make sure there was no sign of the tears that had plagued him most of the night.
His reflection was impeccable, but the eyes were cold and dead, devoid of hope
or happiness. 
     
     He made his way down to the dining room with only one wrong turning.
Boromir and Faramir were sitting at the table, eating their own meals, in
Boromir's case close on finishing it. They each smiled in greeting as Legolas
walked in. 
     
     "I hope you don't mind that we started without you," Boromir said, "but
Aragorn wasn't certain when you would want to rise." 
     
     "Aragorn?" Legolas queried, leaning slightly sideways in his seat to allow
the servants better access to his plate. 
     
     "The King Elessar," Faramir explained. 
     
     "How many names does he have?" Legolas asked, in genuine curiosity. 
     
     "A good deal too many," Faramir joked. "He travelled a lot before he was
crowned, and so picked up various names from the different realms he visited." 
     
     "Where is he now?" Legolas asked, hoping he didn't sound as nervous as he
felt. He had no desire to see the human king any time soon. The longer went by
before they met again, the more time Elessar would have to forget words which
should never have been spoken. 
     
     "He went to his study," Boromir said, "I should probably join him," he
pushed an empty plate away from him slightly, "Once he's discharged his duties,
he might go to the training grounds, or perhaps riding. I don't know. The king's
leisure time is his own concern." 
     
     Legolas nodded. The riding comment reminded him of how he had been shirking
his own duties. He had no way of knowing how humans would treat and elven horse,
and he ought to have checked before this. As Boromir left the room, Legolas
turned to Faramir and asked the question he should have asked the day before. 
     
     "Where would my horse be kept?" 
     
     "Probably in the royal stables," Faramir answered, "If you leave the palace
by the main entrance and turn right, you'll find them easily enough. But Aragorn
doesn't want you to go riding on your own. You might get lost outside the city
and come to some harm where we cannot find you." Or, Legolas added silently, he
might try to escape his slavery. 
     
     "I wasn't planning on riding him," Legolas assured Faramir, "simply
checking that he is being treated well." 
     
     The rest of the meal passed in silence, and Legolas was soon walking
outside to the stables. It was only a short walk, but the number of people
peering out of doorways and windows at him was embarrassing. Legolas was used to
a public life, but at home he would never have been stared at with such
undisguised curiosity and, in a few cases, lust. 
     
     He was glad when he reached the stables. Faramir had been about them being
easy to find. The large building had a paddock beside it. Legolas marvelled that
such a thing would be here, in this city of stone, and almost smiled. His horse
came walking over to the fence, noble and proud among the horses of men. Though,
Legolas noted, these horses were as fine as many elven horses. 
     
     As Legolas stroked his horse's mane, a stableboy came hurrying over with a
hasty bow. The boy looked no older than twelve, but Legolas was no judge of
human ages. 
     
     "Do you want him saddled for riding?" the boy began a stream of words, "I
don't know where the tack is, and the stable master's not here. No one told me
you were coming, or I would have had him ready. Not that it's your fault that no
one told me, of course. If you want him, I'll try and be quick, but I'll have to
see if the other boys know where your tack is, and I'm not sure how long that
will take. Not that I'm trying to excuse it or anything. You probably think the
stables are horribly disorganised if no one knows where anything is, but that's
not the case. It's just that the stable master is ill and I've not been here
very long and I'm just trying to find my way around." 
     
     The boy continued on this stream for some time, until he finally came to
the conclusion that he should have stopped talking several minutes earlier.
Legolas was fighting down the urge to laugh, knowing that the boy wouldn't take
it kindly. The boy was clearly afraid of being punished for being disorganised,
and with his constant talk he might have been digging his own grave with his
tongue. When he fell silent, he bowed his head to Legolas with a quiet, "I'm
sorry, your highness." 
     
     Legolas squashed the desire to laugh and answered, "You will not find any
tack for him. He is an elven horse, and we don't inhibit our horses' spirits
with saddles or bridles. And you could hardly be expected to know I was coming,
since I didn't until just before I set out. I just wanted to ensure he is being
cared for." 
     
     "We care for him as well as we do the king's horses," the boy answered. 
     
     "He is used to wide movement," Legolas told the boy, "be sure that you
don't keep him shut inside too much. This paddock will do well enough." 
     
     "Of course, your highness," the boy said, with another, rather clumsy, bow.
Legolas was surprised by the boy's deference. He was treating Legolas as though
he were a prince of Gondor rather than Mirkwood. After the king's actions the
night before, Legolas was now growing extremely confused about his place. He
might have been an honoured guest, by the way the servants bowed and served him,
but always in Legolas' mind was the memory of Lord Gregor's words, and the fact
that he shared the king's bed. 
     
     Legolas thanked the boy and walked slowly back to the palace. He had no
idea now where he should go or what he should do. He started walking through the
maze of corridors that made up the palace. It was readily apparent that it
wasn't just Elessar living here, since Boromir, Faramir and the twins clearly
did. There were also several richly dressed nobles walking around, bent on
errands or conversing lightly with their companions. 
     
     Legolas said nothing to any of them, though he did nod his head in greeting
when they did they same to him. There wasn't a single figure he passed, from the
nobles to the servants, who didn't look at him with curiosity. Though, Legolas
noted, the more proudly they held themselves, the more discrete their
observations. 
     
     Legolas was quite grateful when he found himself outside again, in a wide
yard containing only one figure. A man was practising complicated sword
movements with almost elven grace. Legolas watched for a moment, impressed by
the man's skill. Then he realised who the man was. 
     
     Legolas turned quickly, hoping to avoid a meeting. Unfortunately, Elessar's
routine meant that he turned as well, and saw Legolas standing there. 
     
     "Legolas," Elessar greeted him. His tone seemed cordial enough, but Legolas
noted the tightening of his hand on the sword hilt. 
     
     "My lord," Legolas responded, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude." He
made to leave again, but a single word stopped him. 
     
     "Stay." Legolas wasn't sure if it was a request or a command. Erring on the
side of caution, Legolas faced Elessar. 
     
     "I have heard of the skill of Mirkwood's warriors," Elessar said, "perhaps
a demonstration?" His tone was that of a quiet request, but his eyes spoke
differently. 
     
     "I do not have any weapons," Legolas said calmly, despite the thin wisp of
fear beginning to reach him. Elessar might expect him to fight with just his
bare hands. Legolas probably wouldn't have been worried, but he'd just seen
Elessar's skill with a sword. 
     
     Elessar nodded his head to one side of the yard, where a rack of swords
stood, sheltered under a wooden roof. Legolas walked over to it, relieved that
the fight would at least me fair. He tested a few of the swords for weight and
balance, before choosing one he wouldn't have bothered giving a spare glance to
if it had been in his father's house. Clearly he wouldn't be allowed a weapon of
any quality. 
     
     "I have sworn not to hurt you," Legolas said, his borrowed sword unfamiliar
in his hand. 
     
     "We are not fighting to kill or injure," Elessar answered, "I will hardly
complain if you deal a few cuts or bruises," then he smiled, "that is, if you
can get past my defences." 
     
     He attacked before Legolas had a chance to prepare himself, so Legolas had
to resort to an undignified leap sideways to avoid the slicing blade. He was
tempted to yell that he hadn't been ready, but he knew that was a feeble excuse.
The retreat put him off balance slightly, so his blocks weren't as good as they
should have been, meaning he was unable to force Elessar back enough to place
any attacks of his own. 
     
     He quickly recovered, but Elessar was more skilled even than he had
appeared practising alone. Legolas had always preferred short knives to swords,
and so was ashamed to find himself struggling in his attack. They each gathered
a handful of shallows cuts that were an irritation more than an injury. Finally,
when both of them were beginning to tire, the human performed a brilliant trick,
twisting Legolas' sword from his hand, and continuing the movement so that his
own sword ended up resting against Legolas' neck. 
     
     For a brief moment, Legolas wondered if Elessar truly intended to slit his
throat. Then the sword was removed. Elessar sheathed it with a look of
satisfaction. 
     
     "It seems your tongue is more cutting than your blade," Elessar said, with
just a hint of anger still behind the words. 
     
     "I'm sorry about what I said," Legolas said, surprised at how much he meant
it, "I didn't mean it." 
     
     "Yes you did," Elessar answered, "You might only have said them because you
were angry and afraid, but that does nothing to change the fact that you meant
every word." There was a short pause, as Legolas strove to find something to say
to that. He never had a chance to however, before Elessar spoke again. 
     
     "We should probably get cleaned up before luncheon." 
     
     Legolas returned the sword to its place and followed Elessar without
complaint. He was still too ashamed of those hastily spoken words to do anything
else he might regret later. 
     
     He was surprised when Elessar stopped at a door a corridor or so from the
one in which the king's suite was situated. Elessar pushed open the door to
reveal a room well furnished, though not so elaborate as the king's. 
     
     "This is your room now," Elessar said, "you'll find everything you need in
here." Legolas was frozen for a few moments, unable to react. He wasn't expected
to return to the king's bedroom. Legolas guessed that the accusations had
probably shamed Elessar into this, but it was a wonderful gesture nonetheless.
By the time Legolas had recovered enough to realise this, Elessar had already
gone, striding towards his own rooms. 
     
     He washed quickly, and changed into some of the clothes that had been moved
in here with him. He was ready quickly, and explored the room carefully. There
was a small bathroom beside the bedroom, but nothing more than that. A large
wardrobe was mostly empty, and the bed was only meant for one occupant, which
was a great comfort. 
     
     Legolas went down to the dining room when the servant appeared, and found
the twins waiting, whispering to each other excitedly. They looked round sharply
as Legolas entered the room, but returned to their conversation as soon as they
had checked who the new arrival was. Legolas guessed that meant it was nothing
to do with him, and was therefore most likely to be a trick for Boromir. Sure
enough, when Boromir appeared, the twins fell instantly into silence, causing
Boromir to eye them with great suspicion. 
     
     Elessar arrived soon and the twins commented, with grins to each other,
about the king's change in clothing from breakfast. 
     
     "Legolas and I practised our swordwork in the training yard," Elessar
commented, as though there had been no other implication made. 
     
     "Who won?" one of the twins asked. 
     
     "I did, of course." Legolas thought it was jest rather than simple
arrogance, but he couldn't be sure. 
     
     "I'm far better with knifes than I am with a sword," Legolas defended
himself, "and no one in Mirkwood could best me with a bow." 
     
     "Then you'll have to demonstrate those skills to me at some point," Elessar
smiled. Again, Legolas wasn't sure if it was a command or a request. 
     
     "Another point we should discuss," Elessar went on, "is your attire." 
     
     "What about it?" Legolas asked. 
     
     "I had the tailors provide you with clothes but it was fairly difficult
without knowing your exact size, so they only made a limited supply of clothes
for every day wear. You're going to be in Gondor for quite a while so you'll
need more fitting outfits for a prince." So Legolas had been wrong about the
style of clothes offered to him marking him lower. 
     
     "Would you rather send off for clothes from Mirkwood," Elessar asked, "or
are you happy to have them made here?" 
     
     "I'll gladly have them made here." 
     
     "I'll have the tailors informed. You just have to see them when it's
convenient for you." Legolas nodded. 
     
     "Now," Elessar turned to the twins, "have you two been doing anything
interesting this morning?" 
     
     "No," the replied in unison. Their faces wore identical expressions of such
pure innocence that even Legolas, who barely knew them, was instantly
suspicious. They kept up their angelic appearance even under Elessar stern gaze. 
     
     "I think," Elessar commented to Boromir, "that you might need to watch
out." 
     
     "It's strange," Boromir said thoughtfully, "I used to worry about watching
shadows in case they had enemies lurking in them, now I'm worried that those
shadows contain allies." 
     
     "We're not that bad," one of the twins protested. 
     
     "We would never hurt you." 
     
     "We might embarrass. . ." 
     
     ". . . humiliate. . ." 
     
     ". . . torment. . ." 
     
     ". . . but never hurt." 
     
     "Next time I see an assassin in the shadows," Boromir said as though to
himself, "I'll just pretend not to." 
     
     "You know," one twin said to the other, "I don't think he likes us." 
     
     ***
     
     "I though perhaps we might go for a ride today," said Elessar. He and
Legolas were sharing breakfast. They were alone in the dining room, since
Boromir and Faramir were both busy and the twins hadn't emerged. Elessar wasn't
sure what the twins were up to, but it seemed to be taking a lot of planning.
Every time he saw the twins they would instantly stop talking. Elessar rather
suspected that he would be finding a message for them to deliver to Rivendell
the instant the prank was pulled. 
     
     "A ride would be nice," Legolas answered. Three days had passed since the
argument and they had barely spent any time near each other. Elessar might have
suspected Legolas of avoiding him, if Legolas had known his way round well
enough to manage it. 
     
     Legolas spent most of his time outside, either in the gardens or on the
archery range. He had made some arrows to replace those left behind in Mirkwood,
and had insisted on completing the task himself. Legolas said nothing about
missing being among wild plants, in fact he said very little on any subject, but
Elessar suspected all the same that a ride in the woods would do Legolas a good
deal of good. 
     
     So, a short while later, two horses set out from the gates of Minas Tirith.
His guards had been reluctant about letting him out alone, but a ride was never
fully enjoyable with an armed escort. Both he and Legolas were armed, and that
would suffice. He wondered if, perhaps, the reason the guards had been so
reluctant was the bow on Legolas' back. 
     
     Elessar wasn't worried about that. Legolas had sworn not to harm him, and
that would be enough. Elves were generally reliable about keeping their word,
though the twins were consistently failing to keep their promises about not
causing trouble. 
     
     Legolas remained silent through most of the ride, but Elessar could see
clearly that he was more relaxed than he had been in the palace. Not completely
though. He probably still held some fears about the position he held, even
though Elessar had done all he could to show to Legolas that there was nothing
to worry about. At last, when they had already turned back towards Minas Tirith,
Legolas spoke. 
     
     "What is my position in your city?" he asked. 
     
     "A symbol, nothing more," Elessar answered, each word carefully considered,
"the treaty requires your presence in order to show that the elven kingdoms will
trust Gondor enough to place one of their own in the power of the king. You are
showing faith that I will not abuse what is given to me." 
     
     "So you do not wish to claim me as your slave." 
     
     "I would never do that to anyone. Not even my worst enemy." 
     
     There was a long pause, in which Legolas seemed to be intently studying the
foliage growing beside the path along which they rode. When he spoke, it was
softly, almost timidly. He was afraid that his statement would be taken badly. 
     
     "I've seen the way you look at me," Legolas said, "I know that you want
me." 
     
     It would be pointless to deny that Elessar had looked. It was also be a
lie. It took Elessar a long time to speak, since he was as afraid as Legolas. He
didn't want this proud, noble elf to be an enemy. 
     
     "Even a blind man would find you attractive, Legolas," Elessar said, and it
was the truth. "I have looked, but I would never do more than look unless you
wished me to." 
     
     Legolas hesitated a moment, then he gave a small smile, "I believe you." 
     
     There was another pause, and Legolas seemed to be intently studying the
trees that surrounded them. Elessar waited. If he said the wrong thing now then
Legolas would pull away, thinking that Elessar hadn't meant his kind words. 
     
     "I'm sorry about what I said that night," Legolas said at last.
     
     "I believe you," Elessar echoed his words and earned himself one of the
elf's brilliant smiles. 
     
     "Do you think," Legolas asked, "that we can put it behind us and begin
again, as friends." 
     
     "I'd like that."