Where Shadows Breathe [Legolas Fanfiction] :on hold:

Chapter Seven: Nebulous

Upon leaving my father's study, I found myself discontent but could find no cause to exemplify upset. My adar may be holding to his stoic façade, but I had been there—watched in muted horror as shadows pulled him nearer to their dark hold. To watch my father, usually strong and proud, crumble under the strain of an unknown poison coursing through him—

I felt chilled even thinking on it.

The king had given me his orders, and I planned to follow them, if not exactly. Should any attack bring further threat to the life of him or another elf, I would not hesitate to change our course of action. For the time being, we would have to wait for another appearance by the deceptive assassins. I could only hope that death would abstain from the stronghold until then.

Rounding the corner, only just having exited the royal wing, I spotted Iaewneth. Strangely enough, I had just been on my way to find her. Why she had wandered to this side of the stronghold, I could only wonder, as the guest halls were many corridors away. Regardless, she was still oblivious to my presence, and I leant against the wall, watching. Her eyes were trained to the wall, seeming to be in search of some object. Whatever it was eluded her and she turned—as she did so catching sight of me. Surprise jumped into her eyes briefly, but quickly faded to calm. She smiled. "Hir Legolas, I did not expect to find you here."

"Truly?" I raised an eyebrow, neglecting to mention that my quarters were only a short distance from where we stood.

Seemingly choosing to leave my question standing, Iaewneth turned to the walls. "I was admiring the paintings... She is very beautiful." Her gazed rested on a large portrait that depicted two elves, an ellon and elleth... In the portrait, the ellon had his arms wrapped around the elleth, laughing as he gazed down at her. The elleth's face was turned away from him, but a grin pricked the corners of her mouth and her hair whisked around her.

"Yes." My words hardly carried sound. "She is."

Iaewneth spoke slowly. "That is the king, so I presume her to be our late queen... Your naneth?"

There was something about her words that bothered me, but I let it pass, clearing my throat. "You presume correctly." Before I could steer the conversation in a less painful direction, words spilled from her lips in one blow after the next.

"I am sure you miss her. I forget how old you were at the time of her death, but every child has a need for a naneth—or so I am told. Your adar must miss her even more though... Perhaps he would have been happier had she lived. In any case, I am glad to have seen her fabled beauty. The legends do not do her justice."

Unable to stand the detached manner in which she spoke, I finally allowed myself a word in the matter. "Her memory is dear, and I anticipate seeing her again. For now, I must be going. There are matters that must be seen to." Not so much as waiting for a reply, I hastily pressed a fist to my chest and hurried past her. Whatever I had wished to speak to her on could wait.