Darkest Nights | Love of Royals: Book II

IX: Ruined

'Ahem.'

Legolas whips around to find me leaning, arms folded, against the wall of an alcove in a lonely corridor. I've been trying all morning to catch him on his own, a long shot considering all the tasks Thranduil is assigning him while he's here. But the dull thud from his boots alerted me, treading in that steady rhythm I have come to memorise, and it was all too easy to lie in wait for the unsuspecting Prince. The dim light in here accentuates his gorgeous cheekbones and darkens his eyes to a warm, thoughtful shade of sapphire.

'Fíria... I didn't see you there.'

'No one ever does,' I reply, stepping out of the shadows. 'I need to speak to you.'

'I gathered that. Is it about what happened yesterday? I've been trying to see you since then but my father keeps sending me on errands, like I'm some mindless muscle he can have at his beck and call,' Legolas scoffs. 

Biting down on my irritation, I launch ahead.  'My main point is that both you and him are acting like fools. And since Elena has failed to make her husband see sense, I thought I should try you. You act like an angry child when you're in front of him.  Yesterday was appalling on both your fronts.'

'So not, "thank you for stopping me from murdering Avalor and getting myself locked up again?"  Not, "I've missed you, will you kiss me again?"'

I roll my eyes at the smirk on Legolas's lips.  'Thank you for stopping me from murdering Avalor and getting myself locked up again.  The latter can wait.'

He pauses, repressing his grin before announcing, 'We're taking this to my room.'

As we start walking, I begin to properly speak my mind. I've been mentally rehearsing this since yesterday afternoon, and if he doesn't listen I won't hesitate to make him. 'Look, do you know how much I've wanted a real, loving father? You had that. He loves you, and I know a lot has gone down between you but you're taking his love for granted. So he's cold towards you.'

'You speak as if you know what really happened,' responds Legolas with surprising coldness. 'You do not, Fíria. Our rift has existed longer than you or Elena know. There is nothing either of you can do.'

'Is this why you and Elena used to dislike each other?'

His head snaps across to face me, my expression instinctively hardening at the glare he's wearing. 'What has she been telling you?  Things about my mother, perhaps?  Elena and I resolved our conflict long ago, but I don't doubt she would tell you everything about it,' he says bitterly.

'Elena told me nothing,' I answer, 'her reasoning is different to mine.  I just want you to experience what I never got.'

'What was your father like?'

'That's not the point!' I blurt in annoyance. I'm not letting him change the subject now, the desperate elf. 'This is about you and your father.  Unless you want me to aggressively push you towards each other and shout FIX YOUR RELATIONSHIP, I'd suggest you do something about it.'

Legolas seems a mixture of taken aback and mildly amused. 'Most elves wouldn't dare interfere with such matters as this,' he says, pushing open the door to his room without taking his eyes off me.

'Well I'm not most elves, am I?  And nor is Elena.  It makes a lot of sense.'

He closes the door behind us and politely waits for me to take in the cosy, welcoming atmosphere of his bedroom.  It feels warmer and closer in here than in the King and Queen's chamber nearby, despite the furnishings being almost identical. I do take note of the bed; it's a normal size, rather than the gigantic thing Thranduil and Elena share.