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

CHAPTER 3


Belorfilad needn’t have worried, as it turned out. As always, Legolas honored his word and kept Isalith and himself a safe distance from the sheer cliff from which sprouted the ollo-berry bushes, brimming over with ripe, plump berries. He could almost feel his mouth begin to water, just looking at them now.

“I wish you could taste them, Isalith,” he said wistfully. “They are the sweetest fruit there is. I would like to climb up and pick some for you, but Adar would be furious. It *is* very dangerous, and I did promise Captain Belorfilad, but still …” he trailed off.

Isalith smiled at him in gratitude for the sentiment, and then his face grew serious again. “Legolas, you are my only friend,” he said suddenly.

The Mirkwood Prince turned to him in disbelief. He’d never expected to hear Isalith voice his *own* sentiments! He found it quite unbelievable that someone as gentle and kind-hearted as the eastern Prince had no other friends back in his homeland.

“As *you* are *mine*, Isalith,” he replied.

Isalith frowned. “Truly, Legolas? But you can speak to *anyone*! I wish I had that ability. I attend my studies with other students, but I cannot bring myself to speak to them first. They are all friendly enough, but they seem to keep a distance between themselves and me, and I haven’t the courage to try to break through that barrier.”

A hint of sadness crept into Legolas’ voice as he answered, “It would do you no good anyway, Isalith. I *have* tried to bridge the gap between myself and the other students in my classes, but I am not just another Elfling, in their eyes. Father says they do not mean to treat me differently, but they shall probably never see me as anything except the heir to the throne of Mirkwood.”

Isalith looked down at the ground for a moment before raising his soft gray eyes to his friend’s face. “You have *me* now, Legolas,” he whispered shyly.

The blonde Prince smiled sunnily and, placing his hands on Isalith’s shoulders, he vowed, “And I shall be your friend as long as I live, Isalith.”

They turned back for the palace then, to rejoin their parents for the midday meal, and Legolas suddenly remembered that the day after next would be the celebration of his begetting day, and he found himself looking forward to it more than ever before.


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The Prince of Mirkwood awoke the following morning to the sensation of a sunbeam’s tickling caress on his cheek. He smiled sleepily and stretched, before turning toward the other side of the bed, where his friend slept. Their parents had decided this was a good idea, since they would have precious little time together as it was, before the Ilandros delegation returned home. It hadn’t gone unnoticed by the Kings and Queens that their sons were very lonely due to their royal status, and the reluctance of other children to approach them because of it. The fact that Legolas and Isalith had bonded so quickly and deeply was a gift, and the answer to many prayers.

Legolas rolled over to find the other side of the bed empty, the coverlet turned back. He frowned and sat up. Where could Isalith have gone? Realization caused him to smile self-consciously. Call of nature, most likely. He sat cross-legged, gazing out the window, and waited. Another beautiful day. Many moments passed without Isalith’s return. Legolas stood and walked around to his friend’s side of the bed. He touched the mattress. It was cold. Isalith had been gone for quite some time.

After hastily donning a tunic over his leggings, Legolas padded down the hall to the small, cozy dining room where he shared the morning meal with his adar and naneth everyday. They sat at the table now, along with Tyrion and Anylinde, talking and laughing over a simple meal. Legolas was greeted by four sunny smiles as he entered the room. He walked to where his parents sat, and stood between their chairs, resting a hand on each of their knees. Naniel leaned over to kiss his cheek, while Thranduil gently rubbed his back.

“I cannot find Isalith,” he announced.

“You *cannot*?” Tyrion asked, puzzled. He thought for a moment. “Well, he is often an early riser, Legolas. Most likely he is exploring the palace and lost track of the time.”

Legolas shook his head doubtfully. “I do not think so, your Majesty,” he said with respect. “He left the bed sometime ago.”

Tyrion and Anylinde looked at each other in concern. “We will help you look for him,” Thranduil said, even as he was rising from his chair.

The five Elves hurried into the hall, looking this way and that, in the event that Prince Isalith might be approaching the dining room even now. But no one walked toward them except a young kitchen maid, carrying a large silver bowl that she was transporting to the kitchen. Thranduil stopped her.

“Have you seen Prince Isalith this morning?” he laid a hand gently on her upper arm.

“No, my Lord,” she replied, “but I have only been in this hallway, thus far. Is anything wrong?”

Thranduil smiled at her reassuringly. “No, I am certain all is well. Thank you for your time.”

The Kings and Queens thought it best to go seang ing in opposite directions, and the Mirkwood King directed Legolas to return to his room.

“But adar,” the Prince began to protest, before his father leaned down to take Legolas’ small face in his large hands.

“Legolas,” he said in a voice both calm and firm, “it would not do for us to have to worry about you also. Besides, what if Isalith comes back to your room while we are out, and he finds no one there? Think how frightened he might be if he could not find any of us. Will you do this for me, my son?”

Legolas hesitated, clearly not fond of his father’s request, but wanting to do whatever would most help his friend. “Yes, adar,” he replied quietly.

Thranduil kissed the top of his head. “Thank you. We will return as soon as we have found him.” And with that, Tyrion, Anylinde, Naniel, and Thranduil left the young Prince standing alone in the hall.

He didn’t like this; not one bit. He could’ve kept up with the adults, he was certain of it. As he trudged toward his bedchamber, a disheartened slump in his shoulders, something occurred to him. What if his and Isalith’s parents forgot to look for him in the stables? They *must* look there; Isalith loved horses as much as Legolas did, and they had spent a great deal of time in the stables of late. It was where they could talk with the most privacy and enjoy the company of Glebriwyn and Sithrandil, their silver and chestnut stallions.

The Mirkwood Prince wheeled around to call after the adults, but he stopped himself. They were long gone by now, and there was no time to look for them. He was beginning to feel it in the pit of his stomach now; Isalith needed him.

“Forgive me, adar,” he whispered, “I have no choice.” He turned and ran toward the door that he knew would open onto the path leading directly to the stables. When he got there, he looked all around. Isalith wasn’t there; Legolas was met only by the inquisitive glances of the horses. The cold, hard knot in his stomach was growing bigger. Where should he look now? Think! His friend couldn’t be watching the Guards in their strenuous training; it was far too early for that.

He ran out into the sun again and looked around wildly, unsure which direction to take. Looking at the forest that bordered the Mirkwood palace grounds, Legolas felt a sudden pull inside him that was more than just a hunch. It was a *knowing*; into the woods was where he needed to go. He plunged into the thick foliage and ran, his destination unknown to him. When he reached the deep well located nearly three hundred feet inside the edge of the forest, he stopped. This was as far as he was allowed to go by himself.

The Prince looked around him; it was so still here, as if the wall of trees and shrubs that surrounded the woods forbade the sounds of the outside world to enter. He put his hands up to his mouth and yelled, “Isalith!” His voice echoed deep into the forest, seemingly without end. He turned in the other direction to call his friend’s name again, when a chill ran through him. A vibration from the ground beneath his feet made him go completely still. The heavy footfall of a very large someone or something, had landed mere inches behind him, and his skin tingled with fear when he felt a rush of warm breath on the back of his neck.

He was not alone.


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