Disclaimer: Okay, Legolas, Thranduil, Smeagol,
Elrond, Gandalf, and Aragorn are all the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. I
don’t own them in the least, because if I did I would have a much nicer
house and a better computer. I do own Adrolas, Narius, and Neviara. Tziganecelt
owns Jeriel. Oh yeah, I’ve never seen anyone mention this but Mirkwood,
the Misty Mountains, and Rivendell all belong to Tolkien also.
"Foreshadows in the Wood"
by Elfytype
Chapter Three: Brotherly Love
“Legolas,
You are a fool.”
Legolas,
who had been searching the endless paths and twisting ways of Mirkwood
for hours now, was loosing patience with his younger twin. He looked up
from the moss-covered earth before him to glance over his shoulder to Adrolas.
“Yes, tell me again, Adrolas, how I am such a fool.” He said with obvious
distain.
Adrolas,
who had been a few paces behind his slight older brother, strode toward
him with an air of importance. Legolas rose to meet his cynical gaze. “How
are you such a fool, brother?” Adrolas asked, a slight mocking smile pulling
at the corners of his mouth. “If you wish to know then I shall tell you.”
Legolas looked patient. “You are a fool because you are not cautious. You
sit back and revel in the beauty and majesty of Mirkwood and let prisoners
slip through your too loose grasp! Father should have assigned me to this
task! I would have kept my alert eyes on him every second he was in my
quite capable supervision! You are obviously not capable enough-”
Legolas
stood straighter, a look of grave severity laced his delicately handsome
face. Anyone could have passed and known it had no place there. He then
interjected. “Yes Adrolas, I made a mistake. A dreadfully large mistake-”
“Your
largest yet, Legolas.” Adrolas interrupted to point out.
“Yes,
my largest yet.” Legolas took a deep breath before continuing. He looked
as though he were going to say more, but only paused and turned back to
his previous task.
Adrolas
looked after his brother as one would look to a cat that had spoken. “Legolas!”
He called after his brother. “You would turn your back to me?”
“I
would turn my back to a senseless exchange of words.” Came Legolas’ blunt
reply as he moved to catch up with Jeriel, who had gone ahead.
Adrolas
increased his speed to overcome his brother. “No words you exchange with
me are pointless, brother!”
Legolas
wheeled on his brother as he approached. “Your petty exploits of my mistakes
are pointless!”
Adrolas’
eyes blazed. His anger quieted his voice to just above whisper. “You are
a fool, and you do not even know it.”
Legolas’
handsome face what contorted with rage and it flowed through his lilting
voice and a hot ember wafts on a breeze. “Yes, brother!” Brother sounded
more as a curse than as an address. “You keep telling me this, but you
fail to show me why, or even how!” Legolas stepped toward his brother and
a glint of hatred flashed across his thunderstorm eyes. For centuries he’d
dealt with his brother’s constant annoying prattle. His father was very
strict, very pointed in his ways, and Adrolas never ebbed in his ability
to make Lord Thranduil’s punishments more unbearable. Legolas had had enough.
Something in him snapped.
Adrolas
saw the unebbing fury in his brother’s eyes and straightened, for he recognized
it. It was the rage of a man who had lost control of himself. It was the
rage that burned within a murderer’s eyes. He tensed; ready for the blow
his brother intended to deal him, though it pained him deeply to see his
brother so full of unbridled fury. What had he done do deserve his brother’s
wrath...?
Legolas
lunged at his brother, but jerked back suddenly as a strong arm, as yet
unseen, wrapped around his neck an pulled his struggling to the ground.
Legolas fought with the fury of a madman.
Adrolas
started and drew his sword, ringing, from it’s scabbard, and swung, intending
to fend off his brother’s attacker, but his sword was met by one of superior
skill, and their union rang through the trees. Adrolas looked hard into
the black depths of Jeriel’s eyes.
Adrolas
seemed to come to his senses and resheathed his sword, then looked down
to his brother, who lay motionless on the moss-covered ground. Adrolas
looked back to Jeriel. “What have you done to him, Jeriel?” Adrolas asked,
for the first time, his voice was not laced with sarcasm or arrogance,
but with brotherly concern.
Jeriel
stood and sheathed his sword as well. “I have nothing but render him unconcious.
He needs to regain himself before he confronts you again, Elirius.” He
said pointedly.
Their
eyes met once again and Adrolas knew that he had gone too far. Had their
sibling rivalry escaladed so far that he could drive peaceful Legolas to
such rage...?
They
broke eye contact at once as they both noticed a hauntingly scent on the
air. “Jeriel,...”
“Yes,
Adrolas,” Jeriel replied. “I smell it too. Orcs...”