To Find A King (Legolas and Aragorn Friendship Fanfiction)

Chapter 4

Working her natural charm, Arwen had convinced Legolas to spend one more night in Rivendell and depart at first light the coming dawn. The world was still dark when the Prince awoke, the winter stars the only lights in the frosty night. Legolas lit a few of the candles on the candelabra and gave the fire a stoke before changing out of his nightwear and into his own garb. He was glad to note that all physical aches and pains that had ailed him when he had arrived at Rivendell were now gone.

"You need not lurk at the door, Arwen," Legolas said as he fastened his tunic, sensing her presence. Arwen opened the door and entered.

"You are almost ready?"

"Pray tell you have not arranged a leaving party?" Legolas teased.

Arwen smiled. "No. Your departure shall be as quiet and unremarkable as your arrival."

"Good," Legolas said, thankful. He did not wish for a large send off, and quite supposed given the hour of his departure that he would be unlikely to see any more of the occupants of Rivendell.

"You are not wearing that?" Arwen said, nodding in the direction of Legolas's fine mail vest which lay on the end of the bed.

"It is a garment meant for battle," the Prince said, sitting down on the bed to pull on his boots. "I shall fight if this quest calls for it, but will not intentionally look for conflict." Legolas stood up.

"Will you wear this though?" Arwen asked, handing him a bundle of cloth.

Legolas unfolded it and looked at the cloth in the candlelight. "It would be rude of me to refuse such a gift," the Prince said, holding up a cloak of fine mottled blue, grey and brown wool to admire it. It was not lost on Legolas that the cloak was the colours of shadows.

Arwen took the cloak from his hands and placed it around his shoulders. "I know you need it naught for warmth," she said, fastening the clasp, "But there are many eyes out in the world, and not all are friendly, least of all toward elf-kind, viewing us with suspicion and mistrust."

"I know," Legolas said. Of late he had experienced much of that; dwarves preferring war to making a deal with the elves, and men doubtful and wary in the presence of those of the Eldar.

Arwen lifted the hood up over Legolas's head. "There will be times when you identity may be best kept hidden."

"You support me on this quest against your father's wishes," Legolas said, picking up his quiver and knives and fastening them to his back. "He would not have me seek out this Ranger." Lord Elrond had made himself scarce since his encounter with the Woodland Prince the previous morning, and Legolas did not expect to see him now.

"He is not always right," Arwen said, "Age does not necessarily lead to wisdom on all matters. His visions can be wrong. The future can be changed. I do not believe this world to be so fixed upon a single path."

Legolas frowned ever so slightly. Surely is was too early in the morn for such philosophy. Then he realised it was unlikely that Arwen had slept this night. He picked up his bow. "I shall return," he said and walked to the door.

"Give Aragorn my blessing," Arwen said.

Legolas stopped as he reached the door. He touched his right hand to his heart and then held it out to Arwen in a sign of admiration and respect. Arwen returned the gesture.

...

Legolas had travelled south and west for a little over two weeks before he came to a village of men within the shadow of the Misty Mountains. Upon entering the village, Legolas had not come across a name for it, and wondered if such a place had a name at all. A half dozen ramshackle buildings stood together, making a town centre of sorts. Fortunately, one of those buildings was an inn.