Ringspell

Chapter 15.
The Prince's chamber...

Legolas entered the room first, pausing to glance around before striding to across the floor towards the far wall. About to follow him had been the Fellowship, until they realized with something akin to embarrassment, that this was in fact, the Prince's bed-chamber, though the term hardly did justice to the size of the room. Halfway across the space, Legolas stopped, apparently just noticing that his friends had not followed. He turned, and looked back at them, as they peered around the room, through the doorway.

"You can come in, if you like." Legolas said, as he turned and continued to cross the room. Tentatively, like children who somewhere they were not supposed to be, his friends stepped inside.

"Do close the door, behind you." The Prince added, over his shoulder. He picked up what looked like several pieces of clothing and a towel, from his bed and proceeded to make his way across the floor, from right to left, heading for a large door in the side wall.

"You must forgive the delay," He said apologetically, as he went. "but your rooms are a good way further down the hall and I am honestly desperate for a bath."

Aragorn smiled.

- This, - his inner-voice commented, dryly, - is typical. -

"Make yourselves at home." Legolas said, pleasantly. "I will only be a moment." With that, he disappeared through the side-door, closing it softly behind him.

With the owner of the premises safely out of sight, the Fellowship relaxed considerably and immediately set about following the Prince's instructions, meandering around the chamber and, as Pippin diplomatically put it, 'taking a look around'.

Aragorn called it 'rifling through someone else's belongings', a far less pleasant, but entirely more accurate description of their activities, and it was something he considered wrong. So, he stood, somewhat stubbornly, near the entrance, meticulously inspecting the thick fur rug beneath his feet, the making of which, Aragorn suspected, had involved a large number of bears. Inevitably though, as the minutes wore on and Legolas did not return, the naturally inquisitive Ranger could not help but begin to 'look around' himself.

The first thing Aragorn noticed, when he allowed his eyes to wander around the room, was that being the heir to Thranduil's throne came with some impressive benefits.

The chamber was slightly rectangular in shape and at least half the size of the first hall that they had entered*(A.N). The stone walls had been artfully covered with a solid, floor to ceiling, wooden carving, not unlike that of the doors, complete with intricately detailed wooden vines and leaves, that gathered in the corners of the room, almost as if they had grown there.

The decorations on the walls had effectively closed off the gap that provided light to the chamber, and the room was quite dark; though a good number of candles were spread about the place, they all lay cold and dead, testament to the long absence of the rooms' inhabitant.

Three slender pillars graced the chamber, set in a more or less triangular pattern around the centre of the room and intricate wooden vines also wove their way delicately around them, the carved artwork thick near the floor and thinning out and fading away at about head-height.

In the corner directly on Aragorn's left stood a large bookshelf, brimming with elvish texts bound in soft leather, their titles printed elegantly down their spines. Aragorn browsed the books, finding several texts that he recognised from Elrond's library at Rivendell. However, a great majority of the texts were unfamiliar, and some of the titles were in a language he could not read.

Next to the bookshelf, on the wall adjoining his friend's bathroom, was a sturdy wooden desk, upon which sat several ink-wells, and a small stack of parchments. Trying to be subtle, he moved closer to the desk and cast his eyes downward, instantly recognising the patterns of lines and markings on the parchment, as music. Intrigued by this revelation, Aragorn picked up the parchments and began rifling through them, stunned at the complexity of the music his friend had written.

Legolas often sang songs for the Fellowship, during the quiet nights they spent under the stars and the young Elf had an exquisite voice; a clear, ringing contralto, which floated through the air, like the whispering of the wind, calming beasts and the hearts of Men, alike. Aragorn had, however, never considered the possibility that his friend might be a composer, and as he read the music, written in flawless Elven hand, he desperately longed to hear it.

"I don't think you should be doing that." Frodo's disapproving voice reached the Ranger's ears.

Brought out of his reverie, Aragorn caught himself rifling. He swiftly returned the parchments to their rightful place, taking care to put the correct page on the top of the pile, before turning to see what it was Frodo had been talking about.

In the far right corner of the room, stood a large bed, its solid base adorned with the same wooden creepers as the other furniture in the room.

The theme gave Aragorn the impression that the vines were growing over everything that touched the walls "“ or perhaps, that the furniture had somehow escaped from the wall of vines, Aragorn could not decide which.

At the foot of the bed, sat a large, wooden chest, the heavy lid resting on the floor beside it and, in front of the chest, knelt two hobbits; a Took and a Brandybuck. They appeared to be doing their very best to empty the chest of its contents, observed, at a respectful distance, by a disapproving Frodo and Sam.

"Merry! Pippin!" Aragorn said harshly. "Get out of there, for pity's sake." He began to storm across the room, towards the two, and the looks on Frodo and Sam's faces turned from disapproval, to amused satisfaction.

"Now you're in for it." Sam warned his kinsmen.

Merry and Pippin began scooping armfuls of clothing and trinkets off the floor around them, shoving them back into the container in a futile attempt to undo what they had done before Aragorn reached them. They needn't have bothered, since Aragorn had barely walked three paces when the door in the wall beside him opened, and Legolas stepped out.

Aragorn stopped and looked at his friend, about to apologize for the behavior of the hobbits but, as the Ranger laid eyes on the vision before him, his words ran dry and all he could do was stare.

Legolas had discarded his utilitarian, traveling clothes in favor of a more comfortable and infinitely more elegant attire and had made the transition seamlessly from warrior, to Prince.

The dark, leather pants he wore were similar to those from which he had changed, but his green, woolen tunic had been replaced by a long, loose-fitting, robe, in a pale shade of blue, graced with subtle silver embroidery on the hem and cuffs. The robe appeared to made of a heavy velvet, and was, Aragorn thought, just slightly too big for the young Prince, its hem gathering slightly on the floor around the Elfs' bare feet, the cuffs hanging almost beyond his hands, allowing only his slender fingers to peek out from under the fabric.

The robe hung open at the front and beneath it Legolas was naked to the waist, the clean, golden flesh of his taut stomach clearly visible, muscles rippling ever so slightly, even as the Elf breathed.

Legolas had also changed his hair, letting go the braids that had previously kept it under tight control and pinning that which would have fallen before his eyes loosely behind the delicate tips of his ears, allowing his mane of golden silk to fall in thick, lustrous waves over his shoulders and cascade down his back.

The new look was finished with a delicate chain of gold and mithril, entwined around the Elfs' slender hips. It was the creature's only decoration, and more, Aragorn thought, than was needed, as he gazed at the simple, elegant perfection that was Legolas.

"Is something the matter?"

Aragorn started. The vision had spoken. He realized with embarrassment that he had been staring and immediately the Ranger's eyes flickered around the room, searching for a place where they could safely rest. He noticed with some relief, that Merry and Pippin had replaced the lid on the chest at the end of Legolas' bed, presumably while he had been staring at the Prince. Gathering his thoughts, Aragorn carefully returned his wandering to the Elfs' exquisite face.

"No, nothing." He replied to his friend's question. "Are you ready?"

Legolas nodded prettily, saying that he was and leading Aragorn back to the door of his chamber, the others following close behind.

*(A.N.1) I wanted to say ..."at least the size of an average house."... but then I realized the only houses I had seen in the movies had been little more than hovels (in Edoras) and one bedroom, second-story apartments (in Minas Tirith). What I MEANT was the average three bedroom, open-plan home in suburbia, with a rumpus room and double lock-up garage. So it wasn't a good description. But it makes a much better sentence. sh*t i dribbled again.... that must be annoying for you *grin*.

To be continued...