Wanderlust (Legolas LOTR)

Chapter 12: Fire Circles

Legolas stepped back involuntarily, almost as if he had been struck. His face mottled between shades of pink and red, and then he let out a snort, followed by an outright, very unprincelike guffaw of laughter.

"Barathion?" he exclaimed, as he doubled over between laughs. "That young whelp that came to visit the night at dinner? The one Narylfiel scared away with her mad talk of killer owls?"

"Yes," Thaliniel said shortly, not in the least bit amused by the prince's levity. It was not funny!

"Excuse me," begged the prince, and he turned away from her, with one hand on the wall to steady himself.

"I can still see your shoulders shaking," Thaliniel observed with her hand on the hip, trying not to smile, despite her best efforts.

"I am sorry," Legolas apologized, not sounding sorry in the slightest, as he was still laughing and now clutching his side as he turned back around to face her.

"You do not look very sorry," Thaliniel said with her best effort to sound stern. "Still laughing...and at my expense too! See if you find it half so hilarious when your father arranges your marriage."

Legolas stilled, and Thaliniel felt a little remorseful to see his boyish grin disappear.

"Oh, there is no doubt in my mind that he will do exactly that someday, Thaliniel," Legolas said resignedly. "It is a nasty feeling to have one's future all planned out with absolutely no say in it for yourself. I am sorry that I laughed about your engagement to Barathion-even if he is a little-"

Thaliniel cut him off. "We are not engaged," she said, emphasizing the 'not.' "I told my father in no uncertain terms that I would not marry him-no matter how great it would be for our families to unite our two vineyards." Her eyes flashed.

Legolas smiled grimly. The girl had spunk! "And what did your father say? I know what mine would say and it would probably have something to do with tossing me in the dungeons until I agreed."

Thaliniel looked appropriately shocked. Her mouth actually dropped open for a moment until she noticed the glimmer in the prince's eyes and realized he was teasing her.

"Very funny, Legolas. You are just quite the jokester tonight, are you not?"

He performed a mock bow. "If it pleases you, my lady." Then he reached for her hand and pulled her closer, his hand so warm around hers. He led her back toward the rug before the hearth and pulled her down to sit beside him once more, only this time much closer. Close enough that she could rest her head on his shoulder if she chose to do so. "Now," he said, his eyes earnest, "tell me what your father said."

"He was very angry. Understandably so," she said regretfully. "He told me that the matter was far from finished and that I should learn my place in his household."

"Listen to me, Thaliniel," Legolas said, catching her chin on his fingertip, so her eyes met his. "You are worth a dozen Barathions."

Suddenly the air between them felt so heavy, like Legolas needed to breathe and forgot how. He cleared his throat and released her chin, choosing to look toward the dancing flames of the hearth, rather than be consumed in the liquid depths of his friend's eyes.

"Perhaps when all this is done, Thaliniel, you should visit the palace. If your father wishes you to make an advantageous alliance, then my father's halls are the place to do so, not the dusty rows of a vineyard." Legolas said quickly, and as soon as the words had left his lips, he wished he could retract them. Thaliniel did not belong to court life. She was far too sweet, too innocent. The elves there would devour her like a butterfly among spiders!

But Thaliniel missed the look of regret crossing the prince's face, and her eyes began to gleam. "Oh, Legolas," she exclaimed, excitedly catching him by the arm. "Do you mean it? Because visiting the palace is on my list!"

Legolas raised an eyebrow. "Your list?"

Thaliniel colored ever so slightly. "I...happen to have made a list," she explained as she drew a circle in the thick nap of the rug with the pad of her finger, "of all the places and things I want to see and experience."

"I see..." said Legolas suspiciously. "You know, between you and your sister, I was sure you were the saner of the two. Now I am not so certain."

"I do try and live up to my name," Thaliniel insisted, but just at that moment, a knock on the door caught them quite off guard, and Legolas sprang up to open it. His eyes lit up.

"I ordered us a light repast," he explained.

A young man brought in a tray of towering turkey legs, a pitcher of mulled wine, berries, and some greens. Thaliniel pointed to the column of steaming meat on the tray, which seemed bent on falling over at any second, so great was the height of the pile.

"A light repast?" she stated. "This is a little much, isn't it?"

"Even runaway princes still like to eat well," he explained with a shrug and lifted off the first leg eagerly. "And I can hardly have you starving under my care, can I?"

She grinned. "It would be exceedingly bad form, I suppose."

"So what else is on that list?" Legolas asked curiously. He would love to know. This elleth was full of surprises.

"Well, a few of them have already come to pass," she explained, "but there are ever so many that have not, like visiting the Misty Mountains, seeing Rivendell, attending one of the Fire Circles in Mirkwood-"

A spray of mulled wine erupted from the prince's lips. "What!?" he cried, his head snapping toward her. His eyes had to be every bit as large as the enormous turkey leg he held.

"The Fire Circles in your own forest," she clarified. "I have heard about them, so I want to go to one some day."

Legolas was already emphatically shaking his head 'no.' "No, no, Thaliniel. Trust me. You do NOT want to attend one of the Fire Circles."

She tilted her head. "Why ever not? Dancing in the forest and a big bonfire sounds fun..."

Legolas was still shaking his head and now his turkey leg as well for good measure. "No, not fun. Thaliniel, no. You would not have a good time. They are too...wild," he explained, deliberately self-editing how he would have truly described those festivities. None of the words that came to mind seemed proper for a young lady's ears.

"We shall see," teased Thaliniel in a sing-song lilt of her voice.

"Not if I can stop it," Legolas muttered darkly.

"Well, have you been to one?" she asked suddenly, watching his face.

He blushed. "Well, as the Prince of Mirkwood, I am expected to make appearances on certain occasions, from time to time," he said with an air of finality, hoping to end this line of conversation.

"I understand," said Thaliniel, although her tone seemed to say the opposite. She had loosened the tie on her hair and had started to unbraid it. "When was your first time to go?"

Legolas looked at her from the corner of his eye. "I first attended on the occasion of my 100th name day celebration." He took another gulp of wine.

"So Legolas can attend, but I cannot?" She tsked, tsked. "That seems a tad hypocritical, don't you think?" She looked at him directly and now it was her turn to arch her eyebrow at him, which she did every bit as elegantly as the prince.

Legolas buried his face in hands. "Why do I get the feeling that we are not talking about fire circles any more?" he groaned.

Thaliniel smiled a secret smile and let the matter drop. The prince and the maiden spent the rest of the evening in easy conversation with both freely teasing each other. When sleep finally claimed them, the pair were sprawled out across the rug in front of the hearth, with her cheek propped upon his shoulder. Every single turkey leg had been devoured.
. . . . . .

So I've been meaning to throw this on for a while, some meanings to the names I've used in the story thus far.

Narylfiel: fire brand

Thaliniel: Dauntless

Barathion: Enthusiastic

Locien: Dragon