This, And My Heart Beside *added ch. 20/part 1*

CHAPTER 11


Praise Eru, Legolas thought, almost there. He couldn’t remember ever being so uncomfortable on previous journeys to Ilandros. Of course, he’d been much younger at the time, not that he wasn’t still considered a mere child by many other Elves whose lives spanned thousands of years. But somehow he’d been better able to tolerate long periods of time on horseback, before this year. Ilandros was so near, he could literally smell it. Smell the lush green forest, underscored by fresh breezes that blew inland from the sea that bordered the opposite side of the kingdom. The two mingled scents always reminded him of Isalith. His dear friend, Isalith; he’d been missing him so, that it seemed unreal to Legolas that he’d actually be seeing him again, within the hour. Many letters had passed back and forth between them in recent years, but it wasn’t the same as standing face to face with him. Suddenly, the anticipation was more than he could bear.

“Race you, Belorfilad,” he challenged playfully. They’d sustained a steady, moderate pace all through the journey so far; the horses weren’t in the least bit tired. The Captain of the Guard raised an eyebrow, smiling.

“Done!” he said and immediately urged his horse into a full run. Legolas followed suit, and they rode fast and joyously toward the line of trees that ringed the Ilandrian forest. Smiling and shaking their heads, the other Guards attempted to catch up with them, but leading the two pack horses slowed them considerably.

When the Prince and Belorfilad were within thirty feet of the wooded area, Legolas having gained a slight lead, they were brought to an abrupt halt by the appearance of a line of armed Ilandrian guards. They stepped soundlessly from between the trees, their dark faces impassive as they aimed their arrows in perfect unison. Legolas pulled up hard on the reins, and Belorfilad found it necessary to veer sharply to the left, to prevent their horses’ colliding. The other Mirkwood guards had caught up, and immediately drawn their weapons, and now the two groups faced each other silently. After finally calming his horse sufficiently, Belorfilad rode to where Legolas still struggled to soothe his mount’s jolted senses. Between the two, they were able to bring him under control. Belorfilad angrily wheeled around to face the Ilandrians.

“Have you lost your wits?” he demanded through clenched teeth. “Do you threaten the Prince of Mirkwood? I would speak with your Captain.” He urged his horse forward a few steps.

“I think not,” a deep, commanding voice came from behind the line of Ilandrian warriors. “I will thank you to remain where you are, until I know your business here.”

“Our business,” Belorfilad said haughtily, “is with the royal family of Ilandros, and is of no concern to you.”

Legolas watched all of this from where he sat motionless on his horse. He couldn’t believe this was happening; never had they been challenged so, upon approaching Ilandros. But he knew the Mirkwood Captain was capable of handling it, and he wisely allowed him to do just that.

Belorfilad stood his ground. “Now, do you allow us to pass, or do we have it out, here and now?” He spoke with the authoritative tone that Legolas had come to know and admire through the years. The Ilandrian Guard slowly lowered their weapons, as the owner of the voice that had forbade their entry, stepped forward.

“’Have it out’?” he asked wryly as he came into view. “That was a bit dramatic, was it not?” Uriong grinned at Belorfilad.

The Captain of Mirkwood returned the smile, tilting his head to the side. “Too much?”

Uriong turned to one of the warriors under his command. “What did you think, Earon?”

“Truthfully Captain, it gave me chills,” the young guard played along admirably.

Uriong shrugged, still smiling. “I stand corrected,” he laughed good-naturedly as he walked toward his lover. “And now,” a tinge of entreaty colored his voice, “will you please come down from your horse, so that I may give you a proper welcome?”

Belorfilad slid fluidly from his mount’s back and strode quickly toward the raven-haired warrior. “You are early,” Uriong stated as they met and came together seamlessly. “Thank the gods, you are early.” They clung to each other desperately.

“I have missed this so, missed *you* so,” Belorfilad whispered before taking Uriong’s beautiful, golden face in his hands and kissing him deeply. Legolas smiled and lowered his eyes quickly. Ah gods, there it was again. That tiny pang of envy he felt each time he witnessed a display of intense love, such as the one shared by the two Captains. What was *wrong* with him? He would never begrudge Belorfilad and Uriong their happiness together, but why couldn’t *he* find that with someone?

“My dear Legolas! Can that be you?” His head snapped up to find the Captain of Ilandros coming toward him, smiling broadly. He returned the smile warmly and dismounted.

“It has been too long, Uriong,” he greeted him, as they embraced.

Releasing Legolas and stepping back a bit, Uriong looked him over from head to toe.

“Indeed it has; I hardly knew you! You were but a gangly boy when last we met, and look at the fine Elf you have become. I believe you will be surprised when you see the changes in Prince Isalith, too. Come, I will take you to him; he was not expecting you this early in the day, and he is bathing in the pond at the foot of the waterfall.”

Legolas stopped short. “Isalith? My *friend* Isalith, the Prince of Ilandros? Bathing outdoors?” His mouth hung open in shock. As a child, Isalith had always been a little frightened by the outside world. And he certainly would never have been caught dead naked and vulnerable, surrounded by nature and the elements.

Uriong laughed heartily at that. “As I said, dear Prince, I think you will be surprised by how he’s changed. Shall we?” he swept an arm toward the forest in invitation, and the Elves of Mirkwood led their horses into the trees, anxious to once again take in the sights and sounds of the magnificent, exotic world of Ilandros.

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Hania sighed heavily as she sat beside the window of her bedchamber, elbows on the window sill, chin resting on her hands. Three days had passed since her brother’s departure, and his absence still seemed unbearable to her. She’d tried to occupy herself with looking after Ada and Naneth, as she’d promised, but they never seemed to need cheering up. They didn’t have the free time on their hands that she had, now that toron wasn’t there to take her to the stables while he groomed his horse, or scoop her up and swing her around until all of Middle Earth spun around her, or perform silly antics that made her giggle until she was breathless. She sighed again. It just didn’t feel right. The four of them should be there together, *always*. A movement on the lawn outside caught her eye, and Hania turned her head half-heartedly to see what it was.

Thranduil strolled across the ground, his hands clasped behind him, deep in thought. He paused slightly when he realized he was not far from his precious daughter’s bedroom. Glancing surreptitiously from the corner of his eye, he saw her small form in the window. An idea formed in his mind and he smiled a little.

After making a show of glancing all around, to see if anyone was watching, he removed his overtunic, carefully folded it and laid it on the ground. Then, the King of Mirkwood did something so unexpected that Hania gasped and sat up straight. Taking a few small, running steps, Thranduil turned a series of graceful cartwheels, followed by several flips. Then he turned, performed a perfect handstand, and walked effortlessly on his palms until he reach his starting point. There he stopped, lowered his legs to the ground and stood proudly, as though quite pleased with himself.

From her window look-out, Hania squealed in delight. “Ada!” she cried, clapping her little hands appreciatively. Thranduil pretended to be quite startled to see her there, but quickly recovered, and smiled, bowing in a courtly manner. He smiled up at her tenderly, and blew her a kiss. She returned the gesture, and waved wildly. The King took up his overtunic and continued regally on his way, as if turning cartwheels on the palace lawn was a daily routine for him.

Hanatchatched him until he was out of sight. Still smiling, she sat on the edge of her bed, thinking. Perhaps it would not be so bad after all, being apart from Legolas for a while.

Who would have guessed that Ada could be so entertaining?


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Legolas could hear the roar of the waterfall in the distance, as Uriong led him downhill over stone steps leading to a pond that was constantly fed by the rushing water from above. The two Elves were now near enough that Legolas could feel the cool, delicate spray from the falls on his face. He smiled in enjoyment.

When they’d descended the few remaining steps, Uriong turned to him and pointed toward a cluster of tall, flowering bushes that edged one side of the pond.

“You will find Isalith on the other side of those bushes,” he instructed. “Is there anything else I can do for you, Highness?”

Legolas swallowed hard. He was actually a little nervous about seeing his friend in person for the first time in many, many years; but he turned to the Captain and smiled confidently.

“No, thank you, Uriong.”

The black-haired warrior gazed at him thoughtfully, before patting his back affectionately.

“He will be *delighted* to see you, Legolas,” he said warmly.

“No more than *I* am to *be* here,” the Prince affirmed. Uriong left him with the promise that they would catch up later. He was very anxious to see how Legolas had progressed in his fighting skills. As he sprinted up the steps to the top of the hill, the blonde Prince couldn’t keep from smiling to himself. He knew exactly where the Captain was heading. Belorfilad had gone ahead to deposit his belongings in Uriong’s quarters, where he would be staying. Unless Legolas missed his guess, he believed the two of them would be “catching up” for the next two or three hours.

Taking a deep breath to relax, he turned and walked along the group of bushes until he came to a break. He stepped through it, to find himself staring at the back of a solitary figure who sat on a shelf of slate rock that jutted from the pond’s edge. He was sitting on a large white bath cloth, with the ends draped across his lap, as he leaned over and scooped up the clear water in a wooden bowl and poured it over his long black tresses.

Legolas froze, watching in fascination. His eyes roamed over the long broad expanse of the Elf’s golden back, watching the pof mof muscle and sinew as he moved. After rinsing his hair several times, he tossed his head back and the raven locks swept back like a veil, falling in soft loose waves to his waist! He then dried his face with the ends of the cloth, wrung the water from his hair, and stood to wrap the cloth around his narrow waist. He still hadn’t seen Legolas, and he turned to leave the pond. Without even seeing them side by side, Legolas could tell that his friend was already taller than his father, Tyrion. He moved with a panther’s grace, leaping lightly on to the bank.

“Isalith?” Legolas called softly.

The Ilandrian Price turned to glance at him. “Aye?” he replied pleasantly. Legolas said nothing more, and his friend began to turn away from him again. But he froze suddenly, and slowly turned his head to look over his shoulder at the blonde Elf who had hailed him.

Recognition slowly came over his beautiful face, and he silently mouthed, “Legolas?”

“I am here,” he replied needlessly, grinning.

“Legolas!” They crossed the distance between them quickly, and embraced with the love and relief of dear friends who’d been kept apart far too long.

“My friend, my friend!” Isalith whispered joyfully. He leaned back then and bent his head to place a light, sweet kiss on Legolas’ lips. The Mirkwood Prince blinked rapidly in surprise, but recovered himself quickly.

“I nearly did not recognize you,” he said to cover up his slighnstensternation. He looked up at Isalith. I have to look *up* at him, Legolas realized, with surprise. When did *that* happen? And his eyes! They’d lightened to a mesmerizing shade of charcoal, and since it was summer they were now flecked with green. At least *that* hadn’t changed; Isalith’s eyes had always changed with the seasons. While the dominant color remained the same, the flecks throughout the irises were always white in the winter, silver in the spring, gold in autumn, and green in the summer. The eyes of his friend had also developed a slightly more noticeable upward tilt at the outer corners, adding to his feline beauty.

“And I did *not* recognize you at first,” his friend replied. “It seems we have both undergone some changes. Have Mother and Father seen you yet?”

Legolas shook his head. “No, Uriong brought me directly here. I cannot wait to see them, though.”
alitalith smiled brightly. “Well then, let us rectify that immediately. They will have me flayed alive, if I do not take you to them soon. I am so glad you have come,” he added in a conspiratorial voice. “They will not abuse me, while you are here.”


Legolas laughed, shaking his head, as he waited for his friend to dress before they returned to the palace.

Gods, but it was good to be here again.


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