Forbidden Love {Legolas Love Story}

Prologue

Artemis' POV
2,200 Years Before the Battle of the Five Armies

"Mother? Father?" I called, racing into the throne room of the Woodland Realm. I used Elvish, my native tongue; I loved the way it sounded like a flowing river. "The North border guards are back to report."
"Thank you, Artemis," my father Thranduil said. "However, please remember to knock. And by the Banes, slow down a little!"
"Thank you, Artie," my mother Vendethiel chimed in, using the common tongue. She insists that we need the practice. "Where is your brother?"
"I have no idea," I said honestly, in the same language. "Probably playing in the Rapids again, knowing him."
Mother shook her head. "That's really not safe. We elves might live forever, but we're not immune to dying from injuries."
"Do you want me to go get him?" I asked, adjusting my forearm guard.
"Yes please. Tomorrow, how about you two try to find somewhere else to play that is less dangerous?" Father suggested. "Wow, you're so tall! It seems like yesterday that you were waist high and not yet weapon trained."
"I guess we grow up fast," I replied, staring Father straight in the eye. I was tall enough for that.
"Go get Legolas!" Mother interrupted, laughing. Father laughed too, and I raced out of the room. The last thing I heard was Father calling in the North border guards.

"Legolas!" I called, holding my arrows in my quiver as I did a flip off the bank down to where he stood.
"What?" he asked. Then he added, "I see you haven't mastered a double flip yet."
"I don't have to do it," I said crossly. "Doesn't mean I can't."
"So why are you actually here?" he continued.
"Mother and Father think this is unsafe. Particularly for a prince. Also, I think they want to talk to you."
Legolas groaned. "Alright, Artie. I'll come."
"Race you back to the palace!" I called, already atop the bank.
"Not fair! At least let me get up!" Legolas complained, scrambling up.
"Fine... 3, 2, 1, GO!"
I sprinted away, my feet sure and steady on the familiar path. Legolas caught up to me quickly.

Neither of us won. It was a perfect tie, both of us running through the door at the same moment. Being twins, we often thought, spoke and did alike, so that wasn't really surprising.
"Legolas," Father began. "Tomorrow, I'd like you and Artemis to find somewhere safer to play. The Rapids are dangerous."
Legolas groaned. "But they're fun!"
"Mirkwood is huge," I put in. "There are plenty of places to play. Like that tree I haven't showed you yet."
"Just because you're fifteen minutes older doesn't mean you get to lecture me like I'm your little brother," Legolas complained.
"But you are!" I replied innocently, flicking easily back to the common tongue.
"Children!" Mother cut in. "What will you be doing tonight?"
"Archery practice," Legolas said resignedly.
"Knife throwing. Left handed," I added.
Legolas sighed. "I haven't even mastered archery yet, but at least I can throw."
"Don't worry, we have thousands of years to practise. We're only 600, there's ages left," I pointed out. "Come on!"

Not long after, Mother came out to the practice field.
"The North border guards reported a small party of Orcs approaching Mirkwood. Most of the soldiers are busy and you two need some real life practice. You will come with me to deal with them."
Legolas started to reply, but Mother stopped him.
"You can use knives. Go get your mail shirts and collect your arrows."
We didn't need further instruction. We sprinted down to the targets to retrieve our weapons, and at an equally fast pace, ran into the armoury. Both of us had mithril mail shirts of the highest quality. I checked my quiver strap and my bowstring. My string was wearing out, so I unwound the bracelet I wore. It was made of plaited bowstrings, so I would always have a spare. I restrung my bow, not wanting to take any chances. There would be nothing worse than to have my bowstring break in the middle of a battle.

We rode our horses to the place Mother had chosen. My horse, Gil-galad, was black, with a white star on his forehead. That was how he got his name, which means starlight in the Elvish tongue. Legolas' horse was chestnut with a white sock. Legolas had named him Hadron, meaning warrior. Mother's horse was black, like Gil-galad, but with no star. She had named him Dúath, which means shadow. Leaving the horses some way away, we took up positions on a small rock plateau, surrounded by boulders. Mother stood on the platform created by the rocks, and Legolas and I stood either side, on top of the boulders. We knew the Orcs would come this way. Now all that remained was to wait.