Storm Of Arrows ➝ The Lord of the Rings ✓

Part Thirty-One

PART THIRTY-ONE ~

"Legolas!" Taryn called, slamming her fists on his chamber door. "Legolas, please open up!"

A moment later, after more pleas of admittance, the Prince opened up his door in silence and she stumbled into his room.

"What?" He snapped, his mood sour. Was it because of her?

"Legolas," she whispered, searching his eyes. He frowned and turned away from her. "Legolas, I'm sorry. Arendyll kissed me... but I realised that I love someone else." Her voice grew quieter as she spoke, until her voice broke out as no more than a whisper. "I love you, Legolas."

The Prince froze, his hands unclenching from when he had scrunched them up at the mention of to kiss. His back still turned on her, he let out a long breath.

"I love you too, Taryn. And that's why I have to leave you here." His voice was drained of the previous harshness, and he spoke in the same whisper as Taryn.

Without hesitation she darted forward and wrapped her arms round his waist, small tears filling her eyes and rolling down her cheeks in a silent waterfall.

She felt his own hands press against her own; cold, but soft. Her cheek rested against his back, her eyes peering over his shoulder.

"I forgot to give you this," he whispered after some time, breaking the compassionate silence.

Taryn detached herself from him and Legolas turned around, clutching a small locket in his hand.

Her eyes widened at the sight of it, recognition flaring through her eyes. "My locket!" She breathed, tentatively picking it from Legolas' grip, as if the haunting memories of her family were going to plague her mind like leeches, sucking dry all happiness she had succumbed to these past days.

She looked up at Legolas, her eyes glazed with more tears, and suddenly wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him into a kiss. It wasn't a very intimate kiss; it was gentle and pleasant. And it didn't last very long. But Taryn relished every second of it, as did Legolas.

The Prince slowly pulled away and began wiping the tears streaking his lover's cheeks. "I found it in your village," he whispered, pressing his forehead against hers - having to lean down a little. "It's how I knew your story was true."

Taryn merely fluttered closed her eyes, her lips smoothing into a smile. She gently kissed his nose.

"Thank you, Legolas. My mind seems somewhat at ease. But do you have to leave so quickly?"

Legolas gave a saddened nod as she blinked open her eyes again. "I set out at dawn. We need to find the separate elves and return back as a group, else my father would be suspicious," he explained, giving her a sad smile. "You'll be safe here. And I promise I will come back for you... when the time is right."

Taryn hasn't a clue when that time was, but nodded anyway. "And Elrond is happy about my stay?"

"Of course. I have already spoken to him about it." Just like he said he would.

She felt a great sadness descend on her shoulders, weighing her down heavily. Of course, she would deeply miss Legolas' presence, but at least there was no chance of her execution now she was safely in the hands of Lord Elrond.

Legolas suddenly pressed his lips against her forehead and pulled away, eyes shining with unshed tears. She had never thought the Prince of Mirkwood would shed tears for a being such as herself.

The world really was full of surprises.

"I have to pack," he merely sated, turning away.

He doesn't want me to see him cry.

She nodded, though he couldn't see her. "I'll see you in the morning."

Legolas grunted in response and she left his room, still clutching the locket tightly in her hand.

Once safely back in her own quarters, she changed out of her dress and into some nightclothes - a simple gown - and splashed her face, before creeping into bed. The full moon cascaded it's shimmering pools along the wooden tiles of the floor; a soft breeze fluttered the curtains. She stared out of the window for some time, lost in thought.

Finally the necklace dominated her mind and she carefully lifted it from her neck and broke open the clasp. Inside was just how she remembered; the pictures of her and her brother, though terribly blanched and faded.

Aris.

Dear, dear Aris. The one who struggled so fiercely against his sister's pleas to return to his stricken parents, laid dead in the ruins before him.

She broke out into a sob, tears pooling onto the pillow beneath her and seeping into her hair. She wept for some time, allowing the memories to pinch her one by one, sending forth a fresh sprout of tears each time.

Then she lapsed into silence, and all that was heard was the curtain fluttering in the breeze.

And her gentle breathing as she fell asleep, the locket still clutched in her hand, the tiny inscription etched into the metal showing beneath her fingers.

My Dear Taryn,
Love Mother.

~

A/N: Ugh. It's 7am. Why am I up?
To give you an update, of course!
So be thankful! 😉

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