Where Shadows Breathe [Legolas Fanfiction] :on hold:

Chapter Six: Cacophony

Idly, I swirled the wine in my glass. After far too long, one of the kitchen staff had finally left, an hour long report of the kitchen stores coming to a close--but not without a complaint on the warriors taking "inexcusable advantage of the stores." I promised that I would speak to Legolas on it. Next to me, Galion barely suppressed a snort at the improbability of that.

There was only one appeal remaining for the day. A lord had brought a report from one of the colonies a short ways from the stronghold, to the north. All seemed well, our warriors keeping the darkness from the South from creeping past their defense. Good news was sparse of late, but cherished. Placing my wine glass on a side table, I stood, thanking the lord. "If you are ever in need, the home guard is at your call."

"Hannon-le, aran-nin." The lord placed a fist across his chest and bent at the waist. Just as he exited the room, a commotion sounded in the corridor. My eyebrow quirked upwards as Galion and I exchanged a look. There were few who dared cause this type of ruckus.

The offender finally appeared and, unsurprisingly, I recognized him immediately. My son never had managed to stay still for very long, and he could evade trouble for less time. Looking closer, I glimpsed a look in his eyes that rarely shone so clearly: terror. "Legolas? What is the meaning of this?"

Seemingly ignorant to my inquiry, Legolas's voice carried through the cavernous room. "Everyone out—now!" When only looks of confusion turned on him, he reiterated, "Go!"

The few present servers—aside from Galion—and the councilors quickly moved to obey, Legolas's mere presence carrying as much authority as his words. My personal guards, however, looked at me questioningly, unsure of how to react. I tipped my chin in agreement. "Do as he says."

Moments later, the doors slammed shut, and Legolas slid the large wooden plank into place. Almost as a deer searching for the hunter, his eyes darted back and forth over the expanse. "Explain yourself, Legolas."

"Arthion has been poisoned," Legolas said as he finished shoving the bar in place. I had stood, coming around the large desk, meeting Legolas at the end of it.

"Galion, did they bring it?" Legolas's eyes turned on my seneschal, a cold fire burning in them.

"Poisoned?" I interjected, "When—how?" The archery master had never been a particular friend of mine, as I did not have a natural affinty for the bow, but many a night I had spent listening to Legolas expound on his lessons with him.

For the second time, Legolas brushed by my voice. "Did they bring it?"

"What, pray tell?" Galion said. Exasperation laced his voice, but affection as well. He had been almost as prominent in Legolas's life as myself, perhaps even more—ai, the curse of a king.

"The wine you requested—I asked the kitchen to bring it up. Did they?" His eyes, piercing the air like lightning, turned to me. "Did you drink any?"