The Darkling(Legolas/The Hobbit) Book 1 ✔️

II

To xxAwkwardTurtlexx - for wanting to marry my story.

             “The King does not take kindly to being spoken to in the manner of which you did,” Legolas voice drifted through the bars of her holding cell. ”Then you can tell the King he should not summon me again.” Turning to face the blonde elf she saw his lips twitching, like he was forcing down a smile, humor dancing in his startlingly blue eyes.

            “You can also tell him, that sending you down here to get answers out of me was a futile attempt. I cannot tell him what I do not know myself.”

            “So you keep saying,” Legolas answered as he stepped closer to the cell door. “Alas, this time you are mistaken, my father did not send me here. Though I find myself wondering why my feet led me to your door I-”

            “Leave her alone you blond-haired twat!” Glóin shouted from the nearby cell. A chuckle tumbled from Arya’s lips as she gazed upon the prince’s face, a deep frown appearing as he heard the insult. “You should not have insulted his wife and child, dwarfs hold grudges like no other,” she said, standing up and walking over to the cell door where she could just about see Glöin’s beard sticking out from the cell door beside her own.

Legolas was about to answer, surprise taking over his features as he noticed how close to they were standing to each other. In wonder he stepped forwards himself, letting his sharp eyes travel over her leather boots, her travel clothes (where he noticed several rifts and holes), up her shoulders and over the soft but still prominent features of her face. Taking a moment to study her head alone his eyes moved from the slightly upturned corners of her mouth, giving her an alluring look, to the arch of her eyebrows. Taking in her hair he realized that it was hanging around her in dirty curls, he even spotted a twig or two sticking up from the back of her head. As his eyes met hers he realized he had been staring too long, one of her eyebrows raised high in question.

            “Goheno nin (forgive me).” He moved his eyes away from her, feeling his cheek warm slightly. When he dared to meet her eyes again he saw amusement twinkling in her eyes as well as a smile tugging at her lips. “I have never come across someone like you before.” He continued, and watched as her smile fell slightly. “Neither have I,” she whispered back, her eyes lowering to the floor. Frowning at her suddenly saddened mood he leaned towards the bars of her cell door, but just as he was about to open his mouth to learn more about her, his ears picked up soft footsteps from the stairs leading down to the prison cells.

            “Boe I’waen (I must go),” he whispered urgently, his eyes meeting hers for a final time before he hurriedly moved away from her door and in moving in another direction than the oncoming guards. Turning the corner, he started to trek up the stairs, unsure of what he should do nest. Walking, deep within his own thoughts he almost ran into his father. Surprised, his head shot upwards and his eyes clashed with his father’s; “Ada goheno nin (forgive me father), I was not watching where I was going.”

            “Lenneg, tolo (come, my son).” Thranduil turned, walking ahead of his son, moving past the large halls until they reached the more private wings, and he could move into his personal chambers. “Something troubles you henig (my child), what did our interesting little captive have to say?”

Legolas’ eyes widened in surprise at his father’s words before he bowed his head in shame. “The girl intrigues me, but as much as it shames me to go against your words, I do not regret going to her.” Legolas lifted his head again, his voice sure as he met his father’s eyes. Rather than getting angry at his son, a small smile lifted the corners of Thranduil’s lips; “you truly are your father’s son.” A careful smile lifted Legolas’            lips as he gazed at his father, waiting for what he would say next.