Fic: A Fine Mess or An Elvish Sleeping Beauty Aegnor/Legolas, Galion, Thranduil
Title: A Fine Mess or An Elvish Sleeping Beauty
Author: phyncke
Beta: keiliss, the patient and wise
For: Slashy Valentine 2011 (for samtyr)
Characters: Legolas/Aegnor, Thranduil, Galion (mention of Andreth)
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, they are the property of JRR Tolkien and his estate. I have borrowed them for my own amusement and for yours I hope.
Summary: Aegnor magically appears in Mirkwood, disgusting spiders and a beautiful elf sleeps from a venomous bite…
A Fine Mess
It was a fine mess he had gotten into. True, he had saved the comely lad from the vile spiders and yet now he sat in the dungeons of the king of this realm. Admittedly, carrying the elf into the enclave unconscious had not been the best course of action. The shocked expression of the monarch, who bore a likeness to his charge, had resulted in his apprehension and incarceration. His honorable intent not apparent, he was mistaken for a brigand or rapscallion. Definitely not his finest moment.
Now, he lay on the stone floor and sighed. He did not even know where in Arda he was.
/--/
When Thranduil was upset, he paced. Tonight he walked the healing chamber as he waited for his son to wake and regain his senses from the sting of the spider. Prince Legolas lay prone, still, very pale in the lantern light of the healer’s room.
The King was not always rational where his son was concerned, something he was loathe to admit but a fact fully acknowledged by those at court. No one had hesitated to grab the stranger when the royal elf shouted, “Seize him!”
The interloper was escorted to the dungeons, much like a certain party of dwarves many years ago.
“Sire?”
“Yes, Galion.”
“I have observed the elf you have imprisoned. He is wearing finely made armor though I do not recognize the design, and his hair is out of fashion, but I do believe he rescued Prince Legolas. Is this wise?”
“We do not know what happened and will not know until my son awakens. Until such time, that elf shall stay where he is.”
“Yes, Sire, as you wish.”
Thranduil scowled.
Galion bowed and turned to leave, thinking he could provide food to the captive, and not inform the King.
/--/
Hours later, Legolas still lay unconscious, but the prisoner was served a wonderful meal of venison, potatoes, carrots and fresh baked rolls from the King’s own kitchens. He used the flaky bread to mop up the gravy on his plate, enjoying the flavor of the food. He accepted the offer of a cherry tart for dessert. It was still warm from the oven.
“What is your name, elf?” came the question from outside the cell.
“I am Aegnor, the fell fire, the sharp flame of Dorthonion. And who might you be?”
“I am not familiar with Dorthonion, where is that?” The inquisitor ignored his question for now.
“It is in the high country and the first line of defense against Angband! How can you not know of it!” The prisoner was outraged at his plebian ignorance.
“My name is Galion, Lord Aegnor, I mean no slight. Let me know if there is anything you need this night.”
Their conversation confirmed the Greenwood elf’s suspicion that something unusual was afoot in the land and all was not as it seemed. Galion hoped that Legolas would be awake soon and able to explain these circumstances: the presence of an elf from another time.
/--/
Thranduil did not take to being shooed very well, even if it was by the medical staff in his own realm. They were competent at getting their way and shooed with authority. They were not intimidated by their sovereign in the least. The Prince needed to rest, to recover and this would not be possible with the King hovering, ready to pounce and question him upon waking.
The monarch retreated to his chambers and paced the rugs there until such time as he could return to the healing wing.
/--/
Legolas existed in a state of consciousness that was neither sleep nor reverie. His mind travelled down pathways he could not control, roamed by shadows, darkness and creatures that had never seen the light of day. The last words he remembered were his talisman in his journey through the labyrinth, they had been yelled by the elf in shining armor with hair aflame who had stood between him and the spider, sent by the Valar to save his life.
“Be gone, vile spawn of Ungoliant! Leave him be!”
The elf had driven his sword right through the head of the giant arachnid and then jumped free as it had collapsed in death throes on the ground, spewing poisonous blood and bile.
“Be gone…” the Prince murmured in his sleep as he wandered lost in the netherworld, keeping this vision of his savior alive in his mind, a beacon of hope where none could be.
/--/
Warm blankets had been brought for the Lord of Dorthonion, down pillows along with a pallet and a change of clothes. While he might be jailed at the moment, the staff felt since he was, in fact, a hero from times of old, he should be provided some comforts. He looked quite handsome in brown leggings and a white linen shirt, but the dungeon chamber was cold and ill-lit so bedding and lanterns were provided along with tea-service at regular intervals. All this happened while the King was unaware, of course, as their ruler was still not in the mood to release him.
“How is the Prince? Has he awoken from the venom yet?”
“No, my Lord. He yet sleeps.”
“I do not think one would be sleeping. It is a different state altogether, I imagine.”
“Quite. If he recovers at all…”
“If I can be of service…” The elven hero frowned in thought.
Galion nodded and thought that Lord Aegnor was a fine fellow indeed to offer his service while trapped in the Dungeons of Mirkwood.
/--/
Thranduil spent much time worrying in his room, and an equal amount of time worrying at his son’s side. Neither seemed to help the cause much, Legolas slept on. Finally the King was urged to take his rest each night as it would do him no good to fret himself into exhaustion. He lay down and surprisingly could sleep without difficulty. He slumbered deeply from midnight until the next morning.
/--/
Legolas saw spiders at every turn, underfoot, overhead, everywhere, sometimes small, ranging in size to the proportion of the ones he fought in the waking world and larger. Their skeletons were a myriad of beautiful colors designed to attract him or please him, a rainbow of bright blues, greens, oranges, red, every hue imaginable. When they swarmed in multitudes, they looked like a seething mass of undulating vibrancy. It was a trick, he knew it was. He felt a despair he had never known. Would this never end?
It was then he struck out and began to fight, against the abyss of malevolence and infinity spread before him. He would not be trapped here forever, he would not!
/--/
“The Prince is moving in his sleep, so say the healers. He thrashes and calls out.”
“So he is no longer paralyzed but not awake.”
“Just so.”
“Hmm.”
Galion came to visit Lord Aegnor just as the King retired on the second night after a long day of recriminations, angst and worry. He himself was very tired but wondered if something could be done to spur the Prince to wake, a presence they had not tried.
“Would you talk to him, sit with the Prince and just speak?”
“Me? The King would have me executed, not that I am afraid of dying.” He believed he had been dead before, in some manner.
“Well then.”
Aegnor smiled his most winsome grin, “Take me to him. I am at your disposal.”
/--/
Legolas could hear someone talking. Where before the sounds had been muffled and indistinct, now he could make out what was said, the tone and timbre. This voice had a lilt and an accent which differed from those of the Greenwood elves. The sinister landscape around him shifted, no spiders in sight, the shadows receded, the very air seemed lighter.
“The hills of my lands were green as emerald gemstones though the peaks were snow capped…crisp air and wide mountain streams…Remember now, we were right on the edge of danger, in those times Morgoth lay to the north in Angband with wastelands in between…”
/--/
Aegnor did not know what to talk about and so babbled about nothing and everything: his homeland, his life, his friends and family. He knew he had some hours until the King awoke and then would be returned to his cell. Galion had this all figured out. The Prince’s expression had gone from stormy to peaceful so he knew that his voice penetrated the unconscious state. Some link must have been formed between them.
Truth be told, Aegnor enjoyed the time spent with Lord Legolas. He was a beautiful elf, with refined features. His own face held elven beauty though the aspect of the Noldor and he had a gruffness to his nature. The Prince had a more delicate face and beautiful hair which looked like spun gold. His own locks were coarse and stood on end at odd angles from his head, much shorter and spiked.
The comatose elf was beloved by his people and they would mourn his passing should the worst happen. Aegnor was determined that Legolas wake and so kept up a constant stream of chatter for the hours they spent together. He did not presume to touch him, though he had held him in his arms when first they met. It seemed too intimate and presumptuous. He was well versed in manners and morays and would not be so forward.
Galion would summon him back to his cell well in advance of the time the King returned to the healing chamber. So a little routine was set---Aegnor would spend the hours through the night with Legolas while Thranduil would spend the days.
/--/
“I don’t know why Lady Andreth fell in love with me, I really don’t, but she did. I liked her, in truth, but I knew I had to leave. Some might consider that wrong but I believe it was best all around.”
Aegnor had also known he had different preferences, but was not able to tell the Lady of this lest he cause a scandal. Legolas slept on, but the Dorthonion Lord was sure he would have simply nodded in agreement to all that he said. He imagined the other elf was a very good listener.
“She was a lovely girl, but not my cuppa, if you know what I mean.”
Galion was passing by and paused at this declaration. He sometimes listened and observed Lord Aegnor’s nightly sessions with the Prince to see if all was well and if the heir to the throne might arise or need anything. So far there had been no change in his state, but his expression was more peaceful when the Noldor elf was present. Sometimes Legolas even smiled in his sleep at something amusing the Eldar said.
“She had lovely long brown hair and was quite intelligent, but I could not stay. She did not speak to my heart. You know, Legolas, one must love who one marries, so take that from me, marry for love, if you must do so at all.”
Legolas sighed at that and Aegnor found that a melancholy sound. More often than not, now, he held the Prince’s hand and sat very close to him. He noticed that the royal heir responded well to his touch and proximity, displaying a more peaceful countenance. He only did so when he knew that no one was near. He was cognizant of the royal elf’s reputation, nay vulnerability.
“I do wish you could speak, Prince Legolas. I have many questions to ask you about yourself and your life in this dark forest full of spiders. All in good time, I suppose, unless your father catches me and has me executed forthwith.”
He chuckled throatily at that. He would escape before that came to pass but the thought was amusing.
Legolas sighed again in his sleep and his lips parted slightly. The healing staff had been very conscientiously applying a lip balm and so they looked soft, sumptuous and very kissable, a luscious red color and smooth to the touch.
All was quiet here and no one was about. The staff had made their rounds a few moments before. What was one kiss? One small peck…a stolen embrace and no one the wiser. Aegnor listened and then leaned over the slumbering elf, touching first his hair which felt smooth as silk, and then the collar of his sleeping shirt, of a soft, homespun fabric native to that land.
“Just one kiss and no one will know. Well you might or might not. I am not sure what you will remember, hmm. Perhaps nothing, eh?”
He shifted closer still, until he could smell the hint of mint on the Prince’s breath and kissed his lips softly, gently, with barely any pressure at all, or a whisper of it. He let his eyes close as their mouths met and lifting, opened them again. To his surprise, delight and amazement, Legolas’ eyelids had opened and so he saw the bluest eyes in all of Arda looking back at him with something akin to affection.
For the rest of their long lives, both elves would swear it was that kiss which brought him back, though Aegnor jests that it was the tedium of his talking all those nights which finally spurred Legolas to wake. The Prince had finally had enough.
Epilogue:
What is not writ in the annals of elvish history, is that the Noldor hero was finally released from the Dungeons of Mirkwood after an explanation of the heir’s miraculous recovery from his venom-induced slumber. Festivities immediately commenced and Lord Aegnor was offered an advisory position at court upon the advice of Galion, the wise and patient consul of the King.
The seasoned warrior assisted in the training of Prince Legolas while also augmenting the defense of the realm.
Legolas and Aegnor fell deeply, madly in love and some years later sealed this bond with a formal ceremony in the forest, officiated by a proud and beaming King Thranduil. They were well and truly wed forever and eternity.
While Legolas went off to perform heroic deeds as a member of the Fellowship of the Ring and later in the War of the Ring, Aegnor occupied himself with the defense of Mirkwood and aiding the King as well he may in those dark times. He later joined Legolas in his travels and at the last they sailed to the Undying Lands together. They were accompanied by Gimli the dwarf, for a merry trip over tranquil seas.
And so that is the end, but such tales are never over, they continue on without us.
Note that the unveiling of the Slashy Valentine stories was today. You can read more of these here: (look at the 2011 My Slashy Valentine link)
http://www.slashysanta.com/eFiction/
Author: phyncke
Beta: keiliss, the patient and wise
For: Slashy Valentine 2011 (for samtyr)
Characters: Legolas/Aegnor, Thranduil, Galion (mention of Andreth)
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, they are the property of JRR Tolkien and his estate. I have borrowed them for my own amusement and for yours I hope.
Summary: Aegnor magically appears in Mirkwood, disgusting spiders and a beautiful elf sleeps from a venomous bite…
A Fine Mess
It was a fine mess he had gotten into. True, he had saved the comely lad from the vile spiders and yet now he sat in the dungeons of the king of this realm. Admittedly, carrying the elf into the enclave unconscious had not been the best course of action. The shocked expression of the monarch, who bore a likeness to his charge, had resulted in his apprehension and incarceration. His honorable intent not apparent, he was mistaken for a brigand or rapscallion. Definitely not his finest moment.
Now, he lay on the stone floor and sighed. He did not even know where in Arda he was.
/--/
When Thranduil was upset, he paced. Tonight he walked the healing chamber as he waited for his son to wake and regain his senses from the sting of the spider. Prince Legolas lay prone, still, very pale in the lantern light of the healer’s room.
The King was not always rational where his son was concerned, something he was loathe to admit but a fact fully acknowledged by those at court. No one had hesitated to grab the stranger when the royal elf shouted, “Seize him!”
The interloper was escorted to the dungeons, much like a certain party of dwarves many years ago.
“Sire?”
“Yes, Galion.”
“I have observed the elf you have imprisoned. He is wearing finely made armor though I do not recognize the design, and his hair is out of fashion, but I do believe he rescued Prince Legolas. Is this wise?”
“We do not know what happened and will not know until my son awakens. Until such time, that elf shall stay where he is.”
“Yes, Sire, as you wish.”
Thranduil scowled.
Galion bowed and turned to leave, thinking he could provide food to the captive, and not inform the King.
/--/
Hours later, Legolas still lay unconscious, but the prisoner was served a wonderful meal of venison, potatoes, carrots and fresh baked rolls from the King’s own kitchens. He used the flaky bread to mop up the gravy on his plate, enjoying the flavor of the food. He accepted the offer of a cherry tart for dessert. It was still warm from the oven.
“What is your name, elf?” came the question from outside the cell.
“I am Aegnor, the fell fire, the sharp flame of Dorthonion. And who might you be?”
“I am not familiar with Dorthonion, where is that?” The inquisitor ignored his question for now.
“It is in the high country and the first line of defense against Angband! How can you not know of it!” The prisoner was outraged at his plebian ignorance.
“My name is Galion, Lord Aegnor, I mean no slight. Let me know if there is anything you need this night.”
Their conversation confirmed the Greenwood elf’s suspicion that something unusual was afoot in the land and all was not as it seemed. Galion hoped that Legolas would be awake soon and able to explain these circumstances: the presence of an elf from another time.
/--/
Thranduil did not take to being shooed very well, even if it was by the medical staff in his own realm. They were competent at getting their way and shooed with authority. They were not intimidated by their sovereign in the least. The Prince needed to rest, to recover and this would not be possible with the King hovering, ready to pounce and question him upon waking.
The monarch retreated to his chambers and paced the rugs there until such time as he could return to the healing wing.
/--/
Legolas existed in a state of consciousness that was neither sleep nor reverie. His mind travelled down pathways he could not control, roamed by shadows, darkness and creatures that had never seen the light of day. The last words he remembered were his talisman in his journey through the labyrinth, they had been yelled by the elf in shining armor with hair aflame who had stood between him and the spider, sent by the Valar to save his life.
“Be gone, vile spawn of Ungoliant! Leave him be!”
The elf had driven his sword right through the head of the giant arachnid and then jumped free as it had collapsed in death throes on the ground, spewing poisonous blood and bile.
“Be gone…” the Prince murmured in his sleep as he wandered lost in the netherworld, keeping this vision of his savior alive in his mind, a beacon of hope where none could be.
/--/
Warm blankets had been brought for the Lord of Dorthonion, down pillows along with a pallet and a change of clothes. While he might be jailed at the moment, the staff felt since he was, in fact, a hero from times of old, he should be provided some comforts. He looked quite handsome in brown leggings and a white linen shirt, but the dungeon chamber was cold and ill-lit so bedding and lanterns were provided along with tea-service at regular intervals. All this happened while the King was unaware, of course, as their ruler was still not in the mood to release him.
“How is the Prince? Has he awoken from the venom yet?”
“No, my Lord. He yet sleeps.”
“I do not think one would be sleeping. It is a different state altogether, I imagine.”
“Quite. If he recovers at all…”
“If I can be of service…” The elven hero frowned in thought.
Galion nodded and thought that Lord Aegnor was a fine fellow indeed to offer his service while trapped in the Dungeons of Mirkwood.
/--/
Thranduil spent much time worrying in his room, and an equal amount of time worrying at his son’s side. Neither seemed to help the cause much, Legolas slept on. Finally the King was urged to take his rest each night as it would do him no good to fret himself into exhaustion. He lay down and surprisingly could sleep without difficulty. He slumbered deeply from midnight until the next morning.
/--/
Legolas saw spiders at every turn, underfoot, overhead, everywhere, sometimes small, ranging in size to the proportion of the ones he fought in the waking world and larger. Their skeletons were a myriad of beautiful colors designed to attract him or please him, a rainbow of bright blues, greens, oranges, red, every hue imaginable. When they swarmed in multitudes, they looked like a seething mass of undulating vibrancy. It was a trick, he knew it was. He felt a despair he had never known. Would this never end?
It was then he struck out and began to fight, against the abyss of malevolence and infinity spread before him. He would not be trapped here forever, he would not!
/--/
“The Prince is moving in his sleep, so say the healers. He thrashes and calls out.”
“So he is no longer paralyzed but not awake.”
“Just so.”
“Hmm.”
Galion came to visit Lord Aegnor just as the King retired on the second night after a long day of recriminations, angst and worry. He himself was very tired but wondered if something could be done to spur the Prince to wake, a presence they had not tried.
“Would you talk to him, sit with the Prince and just speak?”
“Me? The King would have me executed, not that I am afraid of dying.” He believed he had been dead before, in some manner.
“Well then.”
Aegnor smiled his most winsome grin, “Take me to him. I am at your disposal.”
/--/
Legolas could hear someone talking. Where before the sounds had been muffled and indistinct, now he could make out what was said, the tone and timbre. This voice had a lilt and an accent which differed from those of the Greenwood elves. The sinister landscape around him shifted, no spiders in sight, the shadows receded, the very air seemed lighter.
“The hills of my lands were green as emerald gemstones though the peaks were snow capped…crisp air and wide mountain streams…Remember now, we were right on the edge of danger, in those times Morgoth lay to the north in Angband with wastelands in between…”
/--/
Aegnor did not know what to talk about and so babbled about nothing and everything: his homeland, his life, his friends and family. He knew he had some hours until the King awoke and then would be returned to his cell. Galion had this all figured out. The Prince’s expression had gone from stormy to peaceful so he knew that his voice penetrated the unconscious state. Some link must have been formed between them.
Truth be told, Aegnor enjoyed the time spent with Lord Legolas. He was a beautiful elf, with refined features. His own face held elven beauty though the aspect of the Noldor and he had a gruffness to his nature. The Prince had a more delicate face and beautiful hair which looked like spun gold. His own locks were coarse and stood on end at odd angles from his head, much shorter and spiked.
The comatose elf was beloved by his people and they would mourn his passing should the worst happen. Aegnor was determined that Legolas wake and so kept up a constant stream of chatter for the hours they spent together. He did not presume to touch him, though he had held him in his arms when first they met. It seemed too intimate and presumptuous. He was well versed in manners and morays and would not be so forward.
Galion would summon him back to his cell well in advance of the time the King returned to the healing chamber. So a little routine was set---Aegnor would spend the hours through the night with Legolas while Thranduil would spend the days.
/--/
“I don’t know why Lady Andreth fell in love with me, I really don’t, but she did. I liked her, in truth, but I knew I had to leave. Some might consider that wrong but I believe it was best all around.”
Aegnor had also known he had different preferences, but was not able to tell the Lady of this lest he cause a scandal. Legolas slept on, but the Dorthonion Lord was sure he would have simply nodded in agreement to all that he said. He imagined the other elf was a very good listener.
“She was a lovely girl, but not my cuppa, if you know what I mean.”
Galion was passing by and paused at this declaration. He sometimes listened and observed Lord Aegnor’s nightly sessions with the Prince to see if all was well and if the heir to the throne might arise or need anything. So far there had been no change in his state, but his expression was more peaceful when the Noldor elf was present. Sometimes Legolas even smiled in his sleep at something amusing the Eldar said.
“She had lovely long brown hair and was quite intelligent, but I could not stay. She did not speak to my heart. You know, Legolas, one must love who one marries, so take that from me, marry for love, if you must do so at all.”
Legolas sighed at that and Aegnor found that a melancholy sound. More often than not, now, he held the Prince’s hand and sat very close to him. He noticed that the royal heir responded well to his touch and proximity, displaying a more peaceful countenance. He only did so when he knew that no one was near. He was cognizant of the royal elf’s reputation, nay vulnerability.
“I do wish you could speak, Prince Legolas. I have many questions to ask you about yourself and your life in this dark forest full of spiders. All in good time, I suppose, unless your father catches me and has me executed forthwith.”
He chuckled throatily at that. He would escape before that came to pass but the thought was amusing.
Legolas sighed again in his sleep and his lips parted slightly. The healing staff had been very conscientiously applying a lip balm and so they looked soft, sumptuous and very kissable, a luscious red color and smooth to the touch.
All was quiet here and no one was about. The staff had made their rounds a few moments before. What was one kiss? One small peck…a stolen embrace and no one the wiser. Aegnor listened and then leaned over the slumbering elf, touching first his hair which felt smooth as silk, and then the collar of his sleeping shirt, of a soft, homespun fabric native to that land.
“Just one kiss and no one will know. Well you might or might not. I am not sure what you will remember, hmm. Perhaps nothing, eh?”
He shifted closer still, until he could smell the hint of mint on the Prince’s breath and kissed his lips softly, gently, with barely any pressure at all, or a whisper of it. He let his eyes close as their mouths met and lifting, opened them again. To his surprise, delight and amazement, Legolas’ eyelids had opened and so he saw the bluest eyes in all of Arda looking back at him with something akin to affection.
For the rest of their long lives, both elves would swear it was that kiss which brought him back, though Aegnor jests that it was the tedium of his talking all those nights which finally spurred Legolas to wake. The Prince had finally had enough.
Epilogue:
What is not writ in the annals of elvish history, is that the Noldor hero was finally released from the Dungeons of Mirkwood after an explanation of the heir’s miraculous recovery from his venom-induced slumber. Festivities immediately commenced and Lord Aegnor was offered an advisory position at court upon the advice of Galion, the wise and patient consul of the King.
The seasoned warrior assisted in the training of Prince Legolas while also augmenting the defense of the realm.
Legolas and Aegnor fell deeply, madly in love and some years later sealed this bond with a formal ceremony in the forest, officiated by a proud and beaming King Thranduil. They were well and truly wed forever and eternity.
While Legolas went off to perform heroic deeds as a member of the Fellowship of the Ring and later in the War of the Ring, Aegnor occupied himself with the defense of Mirkwood and aiding the King as well he may in those dark times. He later joined Legolas in his travels and at the last they sailed to the Undying Lands together. They were accompanied by Gimli the dwarf, for a merry trip over tranquil seas.
And so that is the end, but such tales are never over, they continue on without us.
Note that the unveiling of the Slashy Valentine stories was today. You can read more of these here: (look at the 2011 My Slashy Valentine link)
http://www.slashysanta.com/eFiction/