Part One

"Legolas Greenleaf.... what exactly do you mean to do? We should not stop here."

"I am going for a swim, Silindë," the Prince of Mirkwood told his companion.

"Here?" asked Saelbeth, the third of their trio. "There are far safer places to swim. We are entirely too close to spider territory."

"If you are afraid, you may stand guard," Legolas replied, unlacing his tunic, pulling it up over his head, and casting it onto the ground. "This is the finest waterfall in the wood and I do not mean to pass it up."

It was one of the last few truly hot days of summer. Legolas could sense that a chill was coming, that the nights would soon be crisp and his cavernous bedroom in the Mirkwood palace would feel more comfortable and less oppressive, even if he was still likely to find himself in it alone. He glanced over at his companions. Saelbeth and Silindë had been assigned by his father to keep Legolas company when he wandered the wood near the castle as he was doing this evening. Silindë was much taller than Legolas, and broader of shoulder, while Saelbeth was of a height with the Prince of Mirkwood, slimmer and possessed of more angular features. They all had golden hair and blue eyes but Legolas knew he was the fairest of the three.

He cared nothing for his looks. They meant nothing to him and did little for him. What good was it being fair if everyone was too afraid of his father to take him for a lover? He had reached his majority nearly a hundred years ago and still he was untouched. Saelbeth and Silindë had been his friends since childhood and he would have been pleased to take either or both of them into his bed, but they had turned him away more than once. It was the same on the few visits he had made to Imladris and Lothlórien -- no one dared come near him, though he did not mistake the fiery glances he often received. Or, in fact, the ones he was receiving now as the two other elves watched him undress.

Legolas knew he was taunting them. As he set down his bow, quiver and unbuckled his sword belt, he bent over to place them lovingly on the ground, then stretched, flexing the finely toned muscles of his back and shoulders. He pulled off his boots and left them near the rest. He smiled first at Silindë, then at Saelbeth as he toyed with the ties of his leggings, slowly undoing the lacing.

"Will you not join me, then, Silindë?"

"I had better not," Silindë said, but his eyes never left the Prince.

"No, you had better not," Saelbeth agreed in a warning tone.

Legolas dropped his leggings onto the ground. "Are you sure?"

For a long moment neither of them answered. Inwardly, Legolas sighed. How could they stand there with desire written on their faces and ignore this blatant invitation? What could his father possibly do to them? Legolas had long suspected that Silindë had lain with Thranduil, mostly because the older elf had a gold hoop pierced through his earlobe. Thranduil had his own ears and the nipples of his chest pierced, something which was not a popular fashion among elves.

Thranduil was a fierce but benevolent ruler, and he had never been anything but kind to Legolas. His father was his closest friend. They shared everything. Legolas had never been able to understand why so many were afraid of Thranduil, though he knew he regarded his father with worshipful eyes. His father had raised him alone, as his mother had sailed for Valinor long ago. Thranduil had not left him in the hands of servants, but taken an active role in his upbringing. He taught Legolas the arts of archery and swordsmanship, and bragged that his son had even surpassed him in skill.

Silindë was tugging on his earring right now, a nervous gesture which Legolas had noticed in him lately. He twisted it between his long fingers and made Legolas wish to press up against him and bite that lobe. What would Silindë do if he did? Run away screaming into the wood? He would probably find himself eaten by a spider.

They really were in a dangerous area, Legolas reflected as he turned away from the staring pair and dove into the cool blue water of the spring that bubbled up from the ground and was fed by the spectacular waterfall from above. It was indeed the nicest and most private bathing spot in the whole wood, and maybe the water would calm his frustration. What would he give for the two of them to strip, join him and do all the things they were evidently thinking about.

Take me, he thought silently. Go ahead. I am offering you myself.

Saelbeth and Silindë turned to watch him swim, still looking slightly stricken and nerve-wracked, but neither moved to join him. He called to them again, but they barely moved. Cowards. Silindë lifted a hand and waved weakly back at him. Legolas decided he was going to stay in the water all day if neither of them joined him. Neither did. He lay on his back and floated, letting his golden hair billow out on a cloud around him. He looked up at the trees which nearly blotted out the sky. Mirkwood was like twilight even at high noon.

He was bored, he realized. Bored of Mirkwood, bored of his life. He wanted to go off in search of adventure. He wanted to see the land beyond the wood. He wanted passion, he wanted love. He wondered if his father would allow him to go visit Imladris by himself. Lord Elrond had two sons only a few centuries older than him. Perhaps one of them would be less hesitant than the two who stood beside the pool. Maybe the feeling would pass once the heat of summer was gone. Heat itself did not bother him, but the humidity got to him at times. It made him restless and edgy.

Legolas daydreamed. He closed his eyes as he floated and let the sounds of the world fade into a dull babble as he tipped back his head and let his pointed ears submerge. He pushed aside the dull anger that came from yet another rejection. He was so busy feeling sorry for himself that it was only a split second before the spider fell upon him that he opened his eyes and saw it.

It was not fully grown, only about the size of a large dog, and Legolas realized that it was already dead, shot through the head with an arrow, with several more arrows piercing the carcass. He also realized that the arrows were tipped with silvery white feathers -- not the green and brown pheasant feathers used to tip Mirkwood archers' weapons. Before he could comprehend what this meant, the spider hit him.

He sank under the water like a stone, the spider's weight carrying him all the way to the bottom of the stream. Legolas flailed, trying to push the disgusting thing off of his body. Finally he got out from under it and kicked up to the surface, drawing in a gasping breath as he did.

"Legolas!" Saelbeth was screaming his name, and Silindë dove into the water to haul him out, grasping him by the arm and dragging him up onto the bank.

"I am fine! Let go, Silindë," Legolas gasped. He wrested his arm away and pushed his hair back out of his eyes, rubbing at them.

"I can see why you were eager to save him," drawled an unfamiliar voice with an unfamiliar accent. "Good thing I arrived before that spider made a meal of him."

Legolas stared at the newcomer, who held in his hand a bow made of mallorn. He was taller than Legolas, but not as tall as Silindë though he was more broad in the shoulders. His hair was more silvery than golden. He had a prominent nose, a rounded face, and an arched brow. His manner was haughty and bold, and Legolas disliked him immediately even while acknowledging his unquestionable beauty.

He was dressed in a somber grey uniform that marked him as one of the private guard of Galadriel of Caras Galadhon, as were two others who lurked silently behind him. The strange elf's icy blue eyes roamed over Legolas and he licked his full lips. Legolas felt his skin crawl. He was distinctly aware of his own nudity but he did not reach for his clothing. It would be admitting how vulnerable he felt to this arrogant stranger.

"Forgive me," Saelbeth said to Legolas. "We did not see the spider. It came from the tree above the stream--"

"I told you this was a dangerous area," Silindë said angrily.

"Who are you?" Legolas demanded of the elf of the Galadhrim, ignoring his companions.

"I am Haldir of the Golden Wood," he said, bowing politely and yet it seemed somehow a mocking gesture. "These are my brothers, Orophin and Rúmil. We have been sent as emissaries to King Thranduil from Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn. Perhaps we may escort you back to the palace to protect you from further...mishaps?"

"I am Legolas, son of Thranduil," he replied, lifting his chin. "I would certainly be delighted to introduce you to my father."

Legolas took a grim satisfaction in the surprised expression of Haldir of Lórien. Clearly the warrior of the Galadhrim had been unaware that he was speaking to, and staring lecherously at, the Prince of Mirkwood.