The King

Chapter Fourteen: Please, Be Direct

by blurr

They continued throughout the day without speaking much, each on their own horse, making their way down the slopes of the mountain and into the woods. Often he glanced over at her, watching the way she absently looked around her. He felt his heart fold into his gut as he replayed their conversation and her words over and over again.

"You promised. It is our pact. Kiss my nose so I know you'll be there always."

She leaned forward and kissed his nose with a sigh. "I will always be your friend, my Prince, but I am not suited to be your bride."

"Lass, your head is not thinking straight." He ran a hand through her hair. "It's been an intense few days I know-"

"Legolas." The sharpness in her tone caused him to worry. She turned back to the fire, idly pushing a few sticks she had been fiddling with into the flames.

She looked so broken as she sat back, her finger tracing the pearl around her neck. Tears framed her eyes and she met his gaze, biting her lower lip.

"I am not suited." Please, she thought, let that suffice.

"Siren or not, you're mine." He held her tighter.

"I'm not a siren, and I'm not pure." The tears finally pooled until they could be contain no more.

"Of course you're-" he stopped and swallowed. "You're not pure? You….have you," he looked at his hands feeling his heart beat faster, "have you been bedded?"

She sighed, feeling the darkness finally swallowing them. She reached for his hand and nodded once. "Friend…please, kiss my nose." Please forgive me.

He didn't understand. He had no idea where this was coming from. He understood that their day was anything but simple and she deserved to have any outburst of emotions that she felt, but that didn't leave him feeling any less secure. He was confused and, if he was being honest with himself, he would admit that he was deeply hurt and rejected.

He did kiss her nose, however, hesitantly and carefully. She closed her eyes at the contact, and he wiped the tears on her cheek, praying desperately that the action would soothe her. He had felt cold and numb as he went through the motion, finding the ground beneath him disappearing.

They didn't speak more on it because he needed to process what he was hearing her say.

What he didn't understand was the way she had said it. Not pure. Sure, he understood the loose concept and idea of purity within sexual relationships. But by the same standards, he wasn't pure either. He had slept with other she-elves. Yet something in her voice told him something else was going on here. Something dark. Something that was dark that she went through great lengths to keep hidden from him. And that, he decided, he didn't like. He wanted all of the information and didn't like the way it felt being left out in the cold. Especially when it was this lovely she-elf shutting the door.

It wasn't until he had put out the morning fire and packed up their camp that he really began to go over his time with her since she first showed up in the Mirkwood caves. He relived each conversation, each glance and touch. Somewhere, he decided, there was a clue. A screaming red flag begging for his attention.

She was happy, he thought. Carefree. Beautiful and laughing. A strong and independent lady, refusing to bend to the will of anyone. She was a source of comfort and great friendship to him. Of course she was tense and angry with his father on numerous occasions, and who wouldn't be. But generally speaking, she was content.

Wasn't she?

But then, when he saw her yawn out of the corner of his eye as they rode slowly through the woods, he thought of her back in the caves while she slept. When sleeping, her walls came down and the covers folded back. She certainly had a few intense sleep moments since she entered his life. The restlessness, the tossing, and the horrible screaming that sent shivers down his spine.

"You have been screaming for an hour." A calm voice said. She glanced to the side to see the Prince sitting on a chair that did not belong in her room. He looked like a mess; tired, worried, worn out. But when he saw the concern in her eyes he smiled gently and got off the chair to lay next to her.

"You did not wake me?" She asked, steadying her voice as much as possible, slightly disappointed at the soft wavering.

"I had the heart to, love. I promise. It was hard not too." Legolas said quickly in one breath. "You must know that." He kissed her brow and brushed back a few dark locks behind her ears. "However, my father said it was best for you to let whatever ill thought came to you in your sleep to play out so you could discover what would come of it."

Her heart felt cold. Nothing good would come of it- nothing ever had.

Legolas noticed the slight tremble of her lower lip and felt his gut tighten. He had lied. It wasn't just an hour but an entire night, or so it seemed, of her tossing and screaming for help as he sat there, helpless, fighting against himself to merely reach out to his friend and hold her close. She was so dear to him, he couldn't stand to watch her cry.

"Do you wish to speak of it?"

"Nothing good could come of speaking about such illness." Her voice was different than he had heard before. It was colder, dull. Lifeless. He reached for her, pushing her long hair over her shoulder.

"Enelya," He whispered, "No harm will ever touch you as long as you are in my arms. You know this, so why do you fear?"

Suddenly he felt confirmed. Something dark did happen. And she was often dreaming about it, the memories resurfacing. He felt curiosity growing in his gut. He wanted to know what happened. He wanted to smooth out the frown lines in her features and give her great cause to smile again. Whatever this 'darkness' was, it was threatening him. Keeping her away from him, from allowing herself to open up to him in an intimate way. That just simply wouldn't do, he decided.

And so, he took his time circling back to the caves. He wasn't ready to have them enter court life so quickly. They needed the time apart, so they could figure out just what was going on between them.

When the night folded into the sky, he told her to dismount because they were setting up camp.

"But we're just an hour outside the caves. If we hadn't been taking so many stops we would have been there the day we left. Why must we set up camp?" She dismounted, pulling her gray sack to her chest.

He shrugged. "Would rather go back and face the court, ready to welcome Mirkwood's new royal princess?"

She bit her lip at that. "No."

He smiled, dismounting himself and stepping towards her. "And wouldn't you rather have more time alone before we greet the mass chaos that is about to bestowed on us." He watched as she sighed deeply and returned her gaze to the ground, running a hand through her hair. "Friend? Please, don't do that."

This time he reached out, pulling her hand to his chest. "Don't do that anymore, we're past it."

She smiled skeptically up at him. "What? Touch my hair?"

"No," he kissed her palm, loving the way she smelled of cedar and rain. "Shut down from me. No more putting up walls. I need you to stay with me."

"I'm standing right next to you," was the soft reply. "Silly elf."

"And it isn't good enough." She loved the way he said it. As thought it was a hidden truth he was admitting for the first time. She loved more how he pulled her close into him, kissing her temple ever so softly. "I need you here, present, and open with me. Always."

She looked down at the ground, realizing a detailed conversation would be happening very soon. One she didn't feel ready to talk about.

Sensing her defeat, he squeezed her hand and gave her an encouraging smile. "Fetch some wood, concubine, I'll build a fire pit."

She rolled her eyes at the deranged endearment, but he shrugged. "I've yet to hear a submitted resignation of your currently employment."

She laughed. "I didn't resign. I was just updated to wifehood status."

"Wifehood." He repeated, loving the way 'wife' rolled off his tongue. "Well then, wife," he said slowly, "go fetch the wood just yonder."

She crossed her arms, turning into the brush to fetch sticks. "Dictator." she muttered under her breath, ignoring her wide smile or the warmth spreading throughout her. Wife.

She felt anxious over how calm he was. She felt anxious over how reassuring he made her feel. She didn't want to feel reassured. She didn't want his calmness to encompass her. The more safe she felt, the closer she was to telling him each and every dark memory. Resulting in her guilt and shame expanding and multiplying.

She couldn't stand to think of the way he would look at her then. Pity? Disgust? Sympathy? Or perhaps he'd be without reaction, leaving her alone in her dark memories. Isn't that what she wanted, though? To have these memories be left alone?

She bit her lip, pulling her arms tighter around herself as she watched Legolas pour the boiling water they had fastened above the fire into the cup she had given to him earlier from her sack. He was so beautiful, she thought. He was so at ease in the woods, much like she was in her mountains. He had yet to press her for information, yet to make her feel uncomfortable.

His gentleness was slowly breaking her down.

She realized, suddenly, that she didn't want to be left alone, she wanted him to wrap her tightly to himself.

Everything, she thought, would be undone.

But maybe that wasn't such a bad thing.

"Friend?" He asked, as he finished the tea he had made them. He had been watching her as she absently rubbed her left shoulder. "Tomorrow morning we'll head to the caves. A good warm bath should ease your muscles."

She smiled. "I'm not sure if it's worth it, dear prince."

"And why is that my lady?"

She shrugged half-heartedly and smiled grimly. "Court." And then, as an afterthought, "Your father."

He laughed beautifully at that, loving the way her voice was so grim when she said 'father.' Perhaps the King wouldn't threaten him so much anymore. Afterall, she had plenty of reason to distrust the King now.

"Would my father and his court keep you from a hot bath?" he asked, poking a stick into the hot flames just for something to do.

She nodded, taking a final sip of her tea.

"Legolas," she said softly, setting her cup down, "come sit by me. Here," she patted the ground next to her. "Please."

He wasn't sure what made his gut fold over; the way she said his name, or the way she held out her hand for him. She was reaching for him, he thought, opening up yet again.

He wasn't sure what to do, as though moving or speaking would scare her off again and have her folding over back into her guarded shell.

"I um," he swallowed. "….friend." he breathed out.

She nodded, feeling bad over his hesitation. He had all the reasons to believe she would up and run. She tried to keep her voice soft but firm. "I think we should talk."

And with that he gracefully plopped down next to her, enjoying the way she reached for his hand.

"Please, forgive me." She whispered. She knew there was no going back.

"There is nothing you could ever do that I couldn't forgive you for." He scooted closer to her, thankful for the way her body pressed up next to him. "I love you, my friend. Please. Remember that."

She laughed grimly. "How about you remember that." She leaned into him, looking down. "You might forget in a second."

He sighed, "Friend, you need to be honest and please, be direct with me."

"I was raped."

The words were breathed so quickly, to fast, barely allowing his last word to finish before they pushed their way into the conversation.

He felt her tense up immensely, but wasn't sure if maybe it was just him tensing up.

But then the words themselves began to form into a thought, one he could actually register. I. Was. Raped.

A thousand thoughts poured their way into his mind, but he couldn't successfully grasp at anything other than, "What?"

But by now she was a mess of tears, praying a mantra over and over, "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry."

Finding a small ground of clarity, he repeated, "raped?"

But she had yet to cease her mantra and held leaned further into him.

But really he only had one question. "Who?"

"Ask your father," came the bitter reply.

The King? Rage quickly became the only thing in him. "He touched you?"

She looked horrified at the thought. She practically screamed, "No!"

Only feeling slightly calmer, he attempted to soften his tone, and reached out to brush away her tears. "What does my father have to do with this, friend?"

She bit her lip. "He…um."

Legolas felt his breathing slowly return to normal and while he had more questions than he did beforehand, he at least felt the direction and path opening up, slowly and painfully as it may.

"Enelya, start from the beginning."

t.b.c.

thanks for reading. Love to know what you think of my story!

-blurr