Wanderlust (Legolas LOTR)

Fallen

Tap, tap, tap.

Thaliniel stifled a groan as she heard persistent rapping on the door again.

"Hello? Is anyone in there? I'm looking for someone-a maiden named Thaliniel?"
Barathion's voice sounded impatiently on the other side of the door before she heard him move down the hall to the next door.

She knew it was only a matter of time before he crossed paths with the king's porter who would surely inform him as to her location. She really did wish to speak with him-eventually- but just not right now, now with feeling so weary from her journey and with much of her mind lingering on Legolas and their friendship. She knew that he had dreaded speaking with his father. The king, it seemed, was still incredibly formidable, even to his own son! Thaliniel wished for his sake that his father would not be too angry; truth be told, she felt responsible for much of Legolas' actions. After all, he had only been trying to help her.

With a sigh, Thaliniel crossed the room to the small, narrow upstairs window and looked out across the town of Dale. A movement below soon caught her eye, and her young maiden's heart raced to see the top of a blonde head she recognized instantly-Legolas. He must have finished speaking with his father, and Thaliniel longed to speak with him, comfort him if needed. If his frustrated pacing down below in the small courtyard indicated anything, she feared that his father must have been very hard on him indeed. She turned, her mind instantly decided upon going downstairs to the courtyard at once, but her hand stilled just as she reached for the doorknob.

Tap, tap, tap. "Thaliniel, are you in there? The porter said you might be..." Barathion inquired politely on the other side of the door.

She cringed and backed quietly away from the door. Now she was trapped. She glanced wistfully down to the courtyard again. Legolas was still down there, still pacing away with his back turned away from her. Thaliniel hated to disturb him, especially if he wanted to be alone. The thought of having to deal with Barathion, however, was a most unwelcome notion, and she tentatively leaned out the window, noticing for the first time that a trellis complete with climbing roses adorned the wall beneath her windowsill.

Barathion knocked impatiently on her door once again, only this time to be joined by the sweet, ever so helpful voice of her younger sister. "Oh, looking for Thaliniel? I'm sure she must be resting. I could check for you if you wish."

Thaliniel's eyes darted toward the sound of the doorknob turning, and without hesitation, she swung her leg over the edge of the window and gingerly tested her weight on the trellis. With one hand still clinging to the windowsill, Thaliniel pulled her other leg over to the outside, the toes of her boots searching for a firm foothold. Just like climbing down from the tree outside the window at home, she reminded herself. As Thaliniel caught her balance, however, she heard a fatal snap beneath her right foot as the trellis completely gave away. She flung her hands forward to grab back onto the ledge of the window and missed.

As she plummeted toward the hard stonework below, Thaliniel only managed a short shriek before landing firmly in the arms of a most welcome rescuer. She exhaled against the warmth of his silken hair, almost cast white in the fading light. "Legolas," she breathed, "thank the Valar for you!" She relaxed into his arms and then stiffened. His scent was all wrong- not his usual piney, earthy scent, but a mix of sandalwood and spice. She lifted her head from his shoulder and with one telling glance at his profile, she knew at once that her rescuer was in fact not Legolas, but the king himself.

He gently set her down and studied her silently, his eyes impassive.

Mortified, Thaliniel blushed and lowered her eyes, her hand automatically drifting up to straighten her hair, which she found embarrassingly to contain several twigs and leaves. Her eyes darted around the courtyard, a low-walled affair with climbing roses and several stone benches, but the king was alone- no porter, no guards- with no one else to diffuse the awkwardness of this ill-timed meeting.