Darkest Nights | Love of Royals: Book II

XV: Alone

Fíria's POV

It's been hours since Legolas left me bored and vexed in the Woodland Realm by myself.  Packing off with Ílren and Tauriel to kill spiders without me?  Not even trying to sneak me some weapons so I can accompany them?  Just because his stubborn father doesn't trust me enough to return my own weapons to me and Legolas wants to stay in his good graces.  I mean, I want to stay in his good graces, but this is just ridiculous.  Imagine how much faster the spiders job would have been done if I'd been there.  Thranduil doesn't know what he's missing.

Apparently I'm not allowed to babysit Erainiel without Legolas either.  What in Arda was I going to do to her?  The little Princess likes me, for Ilúvatar's sake.  I would have loved to pass the time playing with her.  I'm sure I would be a nice change to Elena or Gelya.  But no—Thranduil wants his precious daughter to be supervised by a trustworthy person at all times.  I should have seen it coming.

This means I've been alone.  Literally alone: wandering the kingdom, smirking at guards, boring myself to death... with no options of friends to spend time with.  It shouldn't be bothering me as much as it does.  I've spent far longer by myself before—three millennia with only one friend who couldn't accompany me on missions meant I had no choice but to be alone.  But now, it's different.  I've formed a little circle of friends around myself, developed attachments to them all—oh, how my father would scoff—and I find myself missing them.  Half a day apart from them, and I miss them.

That's not the first thing I say to Legolas when he finally breezes in through our bedroom door to find me sat, ankles crossed, on the plush sofa at the far end with antler-like adornments carved from wood. In fact, I don't say anything at all.

'Did you miss me, meleth?' he asks, casually slinging his large bow up on a hook.

I begin to flick at my fingernails. I'm not answering you. I'm ignoring you. You left me here, you suffer the consequences.

'I said, did you miss me?'

Still ignoring you, Princeling.

'Mm, the Princess is angry that her handsome Prince left her all alone,' Legolas croons with a knowing smirk.

It takes all my effort not to chuckle. 'You think you're handsome, do you?'

'I look better when I'm not covered in spider blood.'  He elegantly removes his quiver of arrows and his top layer of leathers shining with black blood, leaving a spotless green shirt underneath. 'There,' he smirks, 'that's better.'

'That doesn't make me less angry with you.'

'So you are angry with me?'

'Oh, well done.' My sarcasm bites at him, but he doesn't falter, instead choosing to sit down beside me on the sofa.

'You love me really,' Legolas drawls, leaning towards me like he did outside the cell during our first conversation.

'I'm angry with you,' I reply simply, avoiding his eye contact.

He shuffles a little way across the sofa. 'Yes, but you love me really.'

Valar, he's just getting progressively closer to me—so close, I can feel his breath on the side of my face. But of course, I hold my ground. 'Yes, but I'm angry with you,' I repeat, now feigning interest in a painting on the opposite wall.

'Yes, but you love me really, so much that you've been missing me terribly, and despite feeling irked by my leaving you here while I got to go and have a wonderful time fighting, and betrayed by my lack of effort to get you weapons to do said fighting, you're starting to smile.  Because I've got through to you, and I'm sorry I did nothing to change my father's mind—because last time I went behind his back there were severe consequences—but it is better this way, really.' Now, I can't help but look at him. His gaze falls on the growing curve of my lips; he's close enough to kiss them now, but he waits just a fleeting moment longer. 'There's that smile, Fíria!  I only saw you this morning, but I've missed you so much.'