The White Wolf

Legolas watched the door close behind Aragorn with trepidation and a good bit of annoyance. The human king was avoiding telling him something; Legolas knew him well enough to read that fact right from the start.

He had longed to see Aragorn as soon as he had arrived the previous night, after his rushed and tiring trip from Mirkwood. He had jumped at the opportunity to bring a message to Aragorn from his father Thranduil, even though the errand could have been delegated to someone below Legolas’s station. Legolas took every opportunity that he could to visit the White City.

After arriving, Legolas had been expecting to be allowed direct entrance to Aragorn’s private quarters. He was disappointed when the Mistress of the Servants had stopped him, saying that Aragorn was already engaged with company and was not to be disturbed. He had been disappointed and slightly jealous of this unnamed person, so used was he to spending most of his nights at the palace in Aragorn’s bed.

The discussion of Aragorn’s unknown companion had not stilled his fears, either. The topic seemed to make Aragorn uncomfortable, a sight that only added to Legolas’s trepidation. His relationship with the king was a loose one, an easy bond that the two had shared for many years now. Although it was a relationship separated by distance, Legolas knew that it was a strong one. He also knew that it was an exclusive one. Or so he had thought.

Taking a deep breath, Legolas tried to calm his mind and his nerves. He was jumping to conclusions without all the facts. What he had heard did not necessarily mean that Aragorn had been with another in the way Legolas was thinking. He knew that Aragorn cared deeply for him, and he would have to trust the man.

“Are you going to sit there all day and ponder, Greenleaf?” Elladan’s quite voice broke through Legolas’s thoughts, and Legolas was surprised to find that while he had sat thinking, everyone else in the room had disappeared, leaving him and Elladan alone.

Legolas forced a tight smile and shook his head before rising to his feet. “No, I think I’ll walk around the palace a bit. To keep my mind off…other problems.”

A slight frown flickered across Elladan’s face. “Would you like some company? I would not mind joining you, if you want someone to speak with.”

“Do you not have anything else planned?”

“Well, there was this beautiful young maid, but I am sure that she can wait until another time, and I am always willing to help a close friend.”

Legolas shook his head, smiling. He doubted that whatever Fate threw at Elladan, he was one person never to change. “No, do not mind me. Go and have your pleasure. I’ve been here enough times not to get lost. Do not worry about me, my friend.”

Elladan stopped to pat Legolas on the shoulder on his way out of the room. “You are the one that should not be worrying.”

Legolas stood in the silent room for a moment, lost deep in his thoughts. There were so many problems, so many things to attend to that it hardly seemed right to let such a trivial matter bother him. But bother him it did. He stepped out of the solar and closed the door with a quite click, glancing up and down the wide, empty hall. The hall that led off to his left would take him to the barracks, but with a sigh Legolas turned and started down the right.

There were few servants about at the morning hour, and most of those he saw he knew on sight. He spoke with a few but always moved on, charting an aimless and twisting path through the castle halls. After tiring of treading the worn carpets, of moving in and out of the shafts of sunlight that fell through the east windows and wanting to only be alone with his thoughts, Legolas headed up, using the back stairwells to make his way to the battlements.

The sky was a dazzling blue streaked with a few thin clouds, the sun already well above the horizon by the time Legolas reached the soldier’s walk. Only a few sentries were ever stationed there, more of an honor guard in gleaming mail than a true show of force. Legolas nodded in greeting to the sentry guarding the entrance to the stairs before walking on, trying to get out of view.

As he walked he kept his eyes on the city of the humans below. The city that was truly the only thing that tied Aragorn to this place. If Aragorn did not so insist on believing that only he could take care of his people, Legolas was sure he could have convinced the man to move away years ago. But the people needed Aragorn, and so Legolas had to share his time and do his best to cope with the distance that separated him.

Taking his eyes from the city, Legolas turned the outside corner that created the junction of two of the palace walls and stopped dead in his tracks. Just ahead, sitting on the parapet and staring down at the wide expanse of hills surrounding the city was a person Legolas had never seen before. Disquiet filled Legolas, and he knew without a doubt that this was the man that had occupied Aragorn’s attention all night.

He appeared to be an elf, even to Legolas’s eyes, although there was an air around the man that made his appearance irrelevant. He was tall and muscular and, Legolas had to admit, striking. Legolas could only see his sharp profile and a fall of white hair down his back, the strands thrown in relief against the scarlet cloak he wore over his loose white tunic. He sat on the edge of the precipice with apparent ease, paying no attention to anything about him other than the long hundred foot drop below him.

To Legolas, it was a disturbing sight. Although there was no possible way for Legolas to know every elf that lived, he knew many, and he had never seen this particular one before. But he knew that he would have heard of someone that had such a commanding presence.

Legolas began walking again, toward the spot where the stranger sat. The man turned at the barely audible footsteps and Legolas stopped when the full intensity of the amber eyes fell on him. The man studied him, silently, his face a frozen mask before nodding once.

“Legolas Greenleaf, the Prince of Mirkwood.”

Something in the way the man had said the title, some hint of mockery hidden behind the words, caused Legolas to stiffen. He gave one curt bow before straightening back to his full height, his eyes cold as he spoke. “Yes, that is my title. I’m afraid that while you seem to know me, you are strange to my eyes and I have not heard of you before.”

A tight smile curved the man’s lips, as if he could see the ire he was causing in Legolas and found it amusing. “I prefer it that way. Life is much more easily lived ifryonryone believes you are of no great import.” With a graceful fluid motion the man swung his legs around and dropped back to the battlements before sweeping into a mocking bow. “My name is Dinrogion. Dinrogion Heru Draug, if you care for the full title. It is a great pleasure to meet someone I have heard so much about.”

Dinrogion’s eyes locked with Legolas, and though it caused misgiving to tingle down his spine, Legolas held the gaze. “And where do you hail from, Dinrogion? I must admit that if you come from Lothlorien or Imladris I am surprised that I have never seen you before.”

“Nay, I do not live among elves. I hail from a small place to the South, a place I’m sure you’ve never heard of before.”

So there was a reason for his dread. Legolas had to control his face to keep from grimacing as the stranger confirmed his worst fear. “Perhaps I have heard of it. I have been South many times, patrolling and fighting enemies.” Legolas’s tone left no doubt that he considered Dinrogion to be an enemy, but that only seemed to amuse Dinrogion.

“Had you neared my home, I would have heard of the passing of such a noble figure. I keep track of those that pass within a certain distance. In such troubled times, one can never be too careful.”

“That seems to be quite extensive, even for times such as these, to track everyone that comes within range of your home. Unless you were trying to hide something.”

Dinrogion’s eyes seemed to flash and he glanced away from Legolas, smirking. “I have a great deal to hide. There are reasons for the extravagance.”

Legolas’s frown deepened. “And what secrets would those be?”

“If I told you, it would hardly be a secret.” Dinrogion tilted his head to one side and looked past Legolas, to the corner. Legolas turned his attention in the same direction and could hear footsteps approaching with the heavy tread of a human.

“Aragorn,” Dinrogion said, leaning his back against the parapet and crossing his arms.

Legolas shot a scowl in Dinrogion’s direction, instant dislike swarming anew in him at the casual way the statement had been announced. “And how would you know?”

Dinrogion shrugged one shoulder. “I know the pattern of his footsteps well.”

Irritation and jealousy grew anew at the nonchalant comment, as if it was not of big import to the strange Dinrogion that he knew Aragorn’s habits. Legolas had known the king since he had been a mere boy, and had not been able to say for a certainty that it was Aragorn that approached.

Yet Aragorn did appear, walking slowly around the corner as if he dreaded the coming meeting. Legolas watched him with keen eyes, trying to note the man’s every move and mood. He frowned when Aragorn’s eyes flashed away from him to linger on Dinrogion.

Dinrogion, for his part, only continued to lounge back against the wall, smiling as he watchegolagolas grow angrier by the second as Aragorn shifted his gaze between the two. Finally, not quite knowing how to handle the elf’s anger, Aragorn spoke to Dinrogion.

“You have proved difficult to find this morning. Especially considering that I need to speak with you.”’

Legolas said nothing, holding his anger in and glaring at both men. If there was nothing but friendship between the two of them, Legolas wanted Aragorn to assure him of that. As the thought crossed his mind that there might be something more, he imagined shoving the spiteful stranger over the edge of the battlements and watching him tumble to the earth below.

Dinrogion made a move to get closer to Aragorn but stopped when Legolas bristled, turning a death glare on him. Dinrogion shrugged the elf’s glare off before turning back to the waiting king. thi think I know of the matter that concerns you.” A disarming smile swept across Dinrogion’s face. “Do not let it worry you, I assure you that it will not happen again.”

Legolas was pleased to see that Aragorn did not seem to be affected by the smile. “I have heard that before. And I am not willing to believe you this time, either.”

The smile turned into a smirk. “So little faith in me, Ranger?”