Aragon's Reign - Chapter One

As the first rays of dawn pierced the relentless black of night, a figure moved silently through the woods with practised ease. The only movement to be heard was the restless sigh of the leaves as the wind caressed them as gently as a lovers kiss. As the birds began their traditional greeting to the golden warmth of the sun he stopped and waited. So still was he for so long that animals usually wary of man, paid him no heed. However, this was no man who stood beneath the wise and ancient trees as if he were one of them. Indeed this figure waiting in the woods was as wise and as ancient as the trees themselves. He was kind, courteous, intelligent and brave; with the face of a mischievous angel, which after viewing, had many women confessing. He was an elf. He was Legolas.

Legolas was no ordinary elf however. He was in fact the Prince of the Woodrealm elves, who dwelled deep in the forest of Rhovanio - or more commonly known to man as Mirkwood. Legolas whirled as he heard the faint approach of footsteps, startling birds and forest creatures. The animals were not really afraid though as they sensed in him something different... something not unlike themselves, as if he were connected to all living things. Peering through the trees, Legolas could see the one who made the soft footfalls approach on this otherwise silent morning. The sun was slowly beginning to creep above the horizon and he who came was still a mile or two away. Impatiently Legolas scanned the face of the approaching man and a half smile quirked his lips. This was indeed whom he waited for.

The man drew near and Legolas grinned mischievously and shouted, "Hurry along Aragon or I shall grow old before your very eyes!". Aragon stopped and squinted into the suns rays. Distantly he could see a shadow underneath the trees. He had heard the sound of Legolas's voice but not what he had said as men's hearing is not as sharp as elves, nor is their sight. Raising his arm, he gave Legolas a half hearted wave and continued walking. Legolas laughed quietly to himself and shook his head as his companion drew even closer. When Aragon was a mere five meters away, Legolas pushed off from the tree he had been leaning against and closed the distance between them. Both were smiling as the embraced.

As they drew away Aragon saw mischief in his friends eyes.
"Ah Legolas I see you still have the twinkle of adventure in yours eyes." Aragon said as they clasped each other's arms. "Well," Legolas replied, "It certainly was an adventure waiting for you to get here. I was sure that when you arrived you would find me wrinkled and old!" Aragon laughed at this, as they both knew elves were immortal and never aged. "It is good to see you again Legolas, even if it was only a month ago that we parted." Aragon commented as he and Legolas turned and walked further under the canopy of the trees. He sighed, "I have... news. But I shall not burden you with it until we are seated."

Saying this, he leaned against an old oak and slid down its trunk onto the ground. He watched as Legolas gracefully climbed onto a lower tree limb and leaning against the trunk stretched himself out upon the branch. "Hmm," Legolas mused, "This must be news indeed for you to have travelled long miles from your home so soon after your marriage. So tell me, what kind of news is it?" Aragon grave eyes caught and held Legolas's. "I'm afraid it's bad."

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