Laughter like the fall of moon silvered water, stayed the man’s steps. Aragorn sighed, shaking back his elven cloak, and turned to face his pursuer.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Legolas questioned, his voice touched with mirth. He crouched easily on the garden wall, watching the attempted escape with amusement.
“Away. Anywhere but here.”
“You cannot elude your advisors so easily.”
“I can if you don’t help them,” the fugitive king muttered.
“I suppose I could grant you a few hours – for old times sake.” Heart filled with understanding, Legolas relented, throwing him a rope. “Come on…”